Prologue
~ Pre War ~
Forest green tinted almond shaped nails tapped against the top of the Elderwood table, creating a gentle clacking sound. A quiet, nearly imperceptible sigh was breathed into the atmosphere as King Kalith exhaled deeply, his pale golden lashes sweeping low over endless pools of green when his gaze shifted to the empty seat to his right. The place setting could only be described in its entirety as a throne in its own right. Crafted from the finest harp wood from the heart of the ancient waters hidden in the Mord’ras Woods, the arch at the head was inlaid with swollen rubies that set fire to the crown molding in the otherwise empty room. A rich velvet fold was draped down the front of the back of the chair where the highly respected King of Dragons would have sat, had he attended the meeting at all. The very edge of the velvet glittered with a thin weaving of gold thread that winked ever so slightly, as if it were shy against the flames of the gems that it was framed in. The left corner of his mouth quirked ever so slightly at such a thought, for shy was not a word that even existed within the vocabulary of the king.
Movement to his left alerted his incredibly heightened senses. Being the Elven king, he naturally came with the grace and elegance of the species that did little to showcase the sensitivities they held with their delicate and attuned senses. Born of the gift of nature, the elven were naturally more in tune with the world around them then the other species were known to be. A slim arm slithered along the table, swishing across the wood until Queen Abalone’s forearm slid along his decorated sleeve that shielded his porcelain skin from the incessant dampness that forever seemed to plague the Mer-people. Tingles shot up the back of his neck, his spine taking on a hint of rigidity.
Tipping his head ever so slightly, his pale locks slid down over his right shoulder, the movement allowing him a better view of the queen herself. Peeling her lips back, her pointed teeth came into view like a slow grinning wild cat that had spotted its cornered prey. Truth be told, the queen held no qualms in flaunting her true nature, for she was half siren, a shocking revelation that had rocked Oceania when she had been selected to marry the king. Her rich raven locks rolled forward over her bare shoulders in slow motion as if she were rising from the sea waters right before his eyes. The top of her gown that kissed the edges of her minuscule cleavage was questionably covering skin that shimmered faintly with scales that were hidden just beneath the surface of her flesh. Abalone ran on the extreme side of slender, every limb threatening to blow away in even the faintest of wind and yet somehow she held an impossible grace as she floated about on land that was not so natural to her. Her glittering, shifting eyes were zoned in on him but his left brow arched with a clear warning that sparkled in his darkened gaze.
She smiled, a cool laugh easing past her lips as she lifted her pale hand and patted the back of his own.
“Oh, dearest Kalith. You never disappoint at these dysfunctions.” She hissed softly, her head leaning the slightest bit closer. The bridge of his nose wrinkled slightly, swearing silently that the brine of the sea was searing at his senses at that very moment. Her eyes flushed and for a moment, he was staring into the heart of an abalone shell. Each galactic color flashed by in a dazzling array until he sighed and reached for his pewter wine goblet with his right hand. He wasn’t much in the way of drinking, but anything to get him out of the pitch of the siren. She hummed, just the beginning of a soft tune and he felt the urge to curl his lips and let loose an animalistic hiss in response.
Thankfully, no such reaction was needed as Celban, seated directly across the table from them, slammed his own goblet down onto the table with a clang. He let loose a bellowing peal of laughter, the burgundy wine in his cup spilling over the edges and dribbling down to circle the base. “Hail of the sea, wretched witch, put your nonsense away! Or better yet-” He paused to hiccup before continuing. “Get on up here and entertain us all!” He called, tipping back in his chair as he thrust his goblet up into the air with another peal of laughter. Bringing the goblet to his lips he tipped it up to pour a bit past his lips before promptly leaning over the arm of his chair and spitting the mouthful onto the floor. Fairy Queen Titania, seated to his right, fluttered into the air in a shower of golden sparks at the display in an attempt to avoid being drowned in the torrential downpour. Her cheeks reddened and her emerald eyes narrowed with a flash of irritation at his display.
Oceania’s King Taiwae, seated beside his siren queen, glanced over at the interaction with a widening of his striking dark copper eyes, eying the king of the city of gold. Unlike his wife, the king was one of quiet contemplation. He didn’t speak much, but when he did he left no room to be taken as anything but serious. His long strands of red tinted auburn hair that normally floated freely around him in his ocean home were now tied back in a neat bun. He was a stately and well respected king and even now, overreaction was not in his nature. The only sign of his displeasure at the king of Ezberan was a slight narrowing of his eyes and a quiet grunt at his boisterous behavior.
Celban huffed as he straightened up in his seat and hissed as he raked the back of his hand across his mouth. Slamming his goblet back down onto the table, he held a meaty hand over the mouth of the cup.
“How do you mongrels drink such filth?” He grumbled before he brought the index finger of his right hand over the rim of the goblet. “We would never dare drink such sacrilege in my city.” He griped, his nose lifting higher into the air. Mortan, the Yeti king whom was seated on Titania’s right, leaned over the tiny fairy queen with a rumbling huff of amusement at Celban’s display as the short and stocky king’s thinning hair blew in the hearty wind that blew from the nostrils of the massive Yeti king. Titania, nearly tumbling from her miniature wooden stool, lifted her hands and waved the yeti away, “Shoo, now!” She commanded with a spark of sunlight that burst from her fingers. Mortan obliged with a full smile as he folded his fluffy white arms over his thick chest.
Xanthia, the last seated at the table on Mortan’s opposite side, sighed as she tipped her head against her left fist with a roll of her eyes. “Must you always display such foolishness every time we meet, Celban?” She muttered with a flat glance in the king’s direction just as liquid gold spilled from the tip of his index finger and spilled into his wine. The arch of her cupid’s bow curled slightly though she refused to show teeth, human as she was, she sank back in her chair with a sigh.
She looked on as he yanked his hand from his goblet, a fat droplet of wine dribbling down his meaty finger until it dripped to the Elderwood table where it soaked into the grain. A shimmer of gold whispered across the surface and Titania ducked once more when he swung his hand towards Xanthia, the leader of the humans. Queen as she was, she refused to be acknowledged as such. “Now now, little pet. Do not dare speak to me in such a manner! I am a king forged in legacy, in prestige!” He wailed passionately, shoving up from his seat which promptly tipped backwards and slapped against the floor with a heavy thwack. Kalith laid his left palm flat on the table, leaning forward slightly. Dare the sea queen to tempt him while he watched the confrontation between the two that was unfolding.
Xanthia’s eyes flared to life at his words, her palms slapping against the tabletop as she leapt to her feet. Her chair scraped across the veined marble floor harshly and her goblet wobbled precariously as she leaned forward, landing her fiery gaze on the petulant little king.
“Listen here you little rodent,” She started, her tone edged in darkness.
“Enough!”
The voice was clear and offered no room for argument. The entire room flashed with a blinding light and Xanthia was thrown back into her chair, vines springing up from the unassuming grey floor to fold over her forearms and around her waist to secure her to her seat. Her eyes flashed but she fell silent. Celban began to rock back, laughter boiling up his throat before suddenly, Titania’s left hand shot out towards him. Her entire emerald gown shimmered and shifted until suddenly it was a burning shade of crimson. Vines once more sprung up through the floor. The marble splitting, cracks fissuring to make way for the nature magic to spring forward. The vines crept forward with speed where they promptly righted his chair which scraped forward and scooped him into the seat before securing him in his seat as well. His jaw hung slack in shock and his cheeks became ruddy.
Several moments passed with Titania’s eyes blazing, their color suddenly matching her gown. Celban’s lips popped as he floundered for words; liquid gold dripped over the edge of the arm of his chair where he had been mixing magic into his drink. By now, they had all been forced to come to terms with how the people of the City of Ezberan lived with the intentional mutation of their magic to produce liquid gold, aiding in their exquisitely lavish lifestyles.
Every set of eyes in the room swung to the Queen of Fairies as she smoothed back a bit of her bright golden hair and lifted her chin. Tiny as she was, she was a queen in her own right. She folded her hands together and bowed her chin, begged forgiveness from nature herself and soothed away the flames of her irritation. Her gown set forth in an ombre shift from ruby back to a glittering emerald. Her eyes closed for a moment as she gave a soft blessing for the gift of her magic, once opened they had returned back to their normal viridescent hue. A slow smile settled upon her features and she sank down onto her tiny stool at the edge of the table once more, “Now that we have all come back to the fold,” She began while the vines slowly melted away and returned beneath the floor that melded back together as if nothing out of the ordinary had ever occurred, “Shall we discuss why we are all really here?” She inquired, her eyes bouncing from one to the next beginning with King Kalith who bowed his head slightly yet reverently. King and queen of Oceania fell silent, Xanthia sat with pursed lips while Mortan rumbled softly his agreement at her side. Celban was chewing at the bit, his viridian gaze flickering with annoyance but even he held silent.
Finally, they all looked to the ruby studded throne that stood empty at the head of the table. Not all had come to discuss such dark matters. The being they needed most to drive this council had decided to remain absent. It took quite the convincing to coax Kazabor down from his beloved home in the mountains. Clearly, this issue was not something that he was entertaining for the time being. A soft sigh escaped the elven king, clearly he would have to send alternative methods of communication to his oldest friend. No matter, fate had long ago told him what he would need to do. The time for action was upon them. Lifting his head, he addressed the table as they fell into a deep discussion of what could be done. How they could save their realms from this new darkness.
