“I’m not sure we should trust him,” Elder Gold said, adorned in her plate mail. At her neck was an amulet, with the symbol of Baktu, Lord Sozain. At her back was her trusted weapon, a long sickle, black as death. “He is unknown to us, and even his intentions are too mysterious.”

“He has not yet harmed our people,” Elder Forest replied. “How can you be so quick to suspect?” Elder Forest tapped her finger along the table in front of them, sipping the rest of her tea. She was also adorned in plate mail, a large glave against her back, the blade shimmering purple.

“He used an enchanting shrine of ours to form a gift,” Elder Gold said. “He is here to drain our resources.”

“He has paid the fees, and as you said, he created a gift, did he not? The daughter of the Rot family has received a gift near unrivalled on her birth as her first gift.” Elder Forest understood why Elder Gold was worried, since it was in their domain to keep an eye on the wealth of the Iyr.

“A gift which was too great,” Elder Gold said.

“Yet, by his own words, not good enough.”

“Yes. He has shown his intentions to create a better weapon, perhaps to use against the Iyr.”

“What say you, Chief Iromin? You’ve met the boy. You’ve heard of his tale, a tale which we have requested, and yet have been denied.”

“A possibility of the Iyr’s destruction?” Elder Wrath shook his head. “Ridiculous!” Like the Chief, he wore clothing of the Iyr, unarmoured, but with a warhammer at his side.

The Great Elders turned to face the Chief, who remained silent for a long while. The appearance of such a figure within the Iyr had been noted, but his actions had been far too mysterious.

“I trust in my judgement,” Chief Iromin said, though it did not need to be stated. “He will grow to become dangerous. His mind is coherently incoherent. He speaks of death, as though he has experienced it multiple time, and he knows things he couldn’t possibly know. We cannot forget he has spoken of the Frostbridge of the giants.”

“A theory,” Elder Wrath said.

“A theory which the Iyr had created and yet could not prove hundreds of years ago, and yet, here comes a half elf, who knows so much about us, even the birth of a girl, even knowing her name, which we did not. He has come with the theory which the Iyr had created and could not prove long ago, and yet, he speaks of it as though he’s seen it.”

“The Chief speaks true, Elder Gold, Elder Wrath, surely you can admit that much,” Elder Forest said.

“He is curious,” Elder Gold admitted. “We have to be careful. The Chief, too, believes he could be dangerous. If that is that case, we should kill him before he grows.”

“No,” Chief Iromin said, firmly. “We cannot.”

“She has not yet accepted him formally,” she replied to the Chief.

“Informally, she has,” Elder Forest said.

“Until it has been confirmed, we cannot act out of place.” The Chief crossed his arms. “The half elf has been accepted as Lanarot’s brother, I have heard it with my own ears, and I believe that Sonarot accepts the responsibilities which comes with it.”

“A nephew…” Elder Gold sighed, shaking her head.

“For now, we must treat him so.”

Elder Gold stared at the Chief for a long moment. “Just what did you hear, Iromin?”

“Something unbelievable,” he admitted.

“Yet you believe it?”

“I believe it as much as I disbelieve it. Even he is uncertain of the threat.”

“What of his connection to the silver wyrm?” Elder Wrath asked. The sight of the dragon so close to the Iyr had alarmed him.

“I have heard recently that he has no idea about her true identity.”

A long moment of silence passed through the elderly Iyrmen.

“He does not know her true identity?” Elder Wrath asked.

“Surely you jest, Chief,” Elder Gold said.

“Even a child of the Kingdom knows who she is,” Elder Forest added.

“He does not know,” Chief Iromin confirmed.

“It must be an act,” Elder Gold said.

“I wouldn’t disrespect Argon, Kandal, and Eshva so blatantly,” Chief Iromin said. “They had seen it themselves, and they had spoken to him of the matter. He has no reason to deny it, not unless he genuinely does not know.”

“It…” Elder Gold fell silent, staring at the Chief.

They grew quiet for a long while once more.

"Isn't there a possibility of that?" Elder Forest asked.

Chief Iromin nodded. "I agree."

"Perhaps it's all true? The tale? His reasons to be in the Iyr…" Elder Forest held onto her chin, falling into thought.

"There is a possibility that he's trying to seduce Sonarot," Elder Gold offered.

"Could he know that she possesses that bloodline?" Elder Wrath threw a look to Chief Iromin.

"It's possible…" Iromin said. “I wouldn’t bet on it.”

"There are too many unknowns,” Elder Forest said. “Since Elder Gold and Elder Wrath are both suspicious, perhaps you may keep an eye on him."

“A good idea,” Chief Iromin agreed.

Elder Wrath sighed, crossing his arms and bowing his head. "If only you had allowed me to meet that man."

"You would have tried to pick a fight," Chief Iromin said, shaking his head.

"Yes," Elder Wrath admitted. "Oh, Elder Peace. How I envy you."

Elder Peace had been sent away, with a delegation of Iyrmen. She stood atop the hill, among the ruins of a town which had been destroyed in her lifetime, staring at the forest which had taken the lives of hundreds of Iyrmen. She rubbed the beads within her hand.

There were ten Iyrmen overlooking the matter, due to the seriousness of the situation. Each were in their twilight years, save for the Argon, who snoozed lightly nearby, beside the young elf girl, who was within a trance.

At her side, silently, an Iyrman appeared. A woman wearing a skull, with a pair of blades at her side, who bowed her head. Elder Peace heard the hooves in the distance, hearing the approach of who she had sent word to in order to mediate the matter.

Elder Peace stepped out, seeing the lone figure ride along the road towards them. He wore a breastplate, a long cloak on his shoulders, and a staff on his back. He pulled the reins on the horse, and hoisted himself off, with the swiftness of a younger man.

“I’m sorry we had to bother you for such a matter, Sir,” Elder Peace said, bowing her head.

“Please,” the man said. “Call me Harold, Elder Peace.”

She bowed her head regardless, taking his hands in hers in a greeting. “Allow me to thank you.”

“You don’t have to mention it.” Harold noted the other Iyrmen, each of whom were staring at him, excitement filling their eyes. He hadn’t met many of them, but he noted the figure with the skull. “I am long retired.”

“We understand,” Elder Peace said, a warning for the Iyrmen nearby.

“So, you’re Unrivalled,” the little elf girl said, quickly stepping up to him. “I expected you to be bigger.”

“I hope you’re well, Master elf,” Harold said.

“I am well,” Amaerabyl said, her eyes beaming up at him. “The Iyrmen aren’t so bad. They’re very strong.”

“Yes,” Harold said. “They are.”

The group waited at the hill, with Argon waking up, and bothering Harold as calmly as he could managed. Harold stared up at the night sky. He hadn’t thought the Iyrmen were telling the truth, that there was an elf who had been kidnapped, and by a certain individual within the Kingdom.

Then, they came. A single figure stepped out from the forest’s edge, but the Iyrmen could feel the existence of many more behind the tree line.

The figure was wrapped from head to toe, as though it didn’t want its body sullied by the sight of others. However, it removed its hood, revealing herself. Long silver hair, which glittered under the stars, golden eyes which stared at the men ahead, and skin which glowed like moonlight.

Elder Peace squinted her eyes at the figure, before stepping forward. She wore the clothing of the Iyr, which covered her pale red skin. Her horns peeked out of her dark hair.

“Where is your Chief?” the elf asked, her voice so smooth.

“When it comes to matters of peace, is it within my domain,” Elder Peace replied, staring at the elf. She understood that her appearance was not something many within this land liked, but she had earned the role with her blood, sweat, and the blood of others.

The elf woman did not respond, though the elf girl bowed her head, not daring to look at the beautiful elf woman. The elf woman raised a finger, and magic engulfed the young elf, before she was carried towards the elf woman.

A tense moment passed, as the Iyrmen stared at the trees, Elder Peace at he female elf, whose beauty was unmatched in the entire land.

The elf’s eyes then fell to Harold for a long moment, who had remained silent the entire time. The elf raised her hand, and magic engulfed Harold from head to toe, and vines full of thorns wrapped around him, piercing him.

“We will remember this, Iyrmen,” the elf said, before she stepped into the trees, the little girl waving her hand as she followed, and the presence of the elves disappeared, instantly.

Harold flexed, before his arm tore away from the vines, and he grabbed at the vine, before he tossed the writhing vines aside. His body was cut, but he didn’t seem bothered at all.

Elder Peace offered him a vial, but he shook his head and said, “I’m fine. I should accept her intentions.” He couldn’t blame her, after what happened all those years ago.

“I have heard the tale of your relationship,” Elder Peace said, wondering how much he would reveal to her.

“Since the meeting has passed by peacefully, I should return,” he said, sighing. He closed his eyes, tilting his head back as he fell into thought.

“It was a pleasure to meet you,” Elder Peace said.

“The pleasure was all mine,” Harold replied. “Though…” The words had slipped out of his lips, and he wondered just when he had become so meek. “Perhaps we could make a trade?”

Elder Peace’s ears twitched. “What is the trade you are willing to offer?”

“I will be willing to spar with any Iyrman, for the price of a magical weapon. Spears are preferred, but swords or axes are fine, too.”

Elder Peace stared at Harold for a moment, feeling the Iyrmen behind her fill with excitement. ‘Why would you do this to me?’ “We will return to the Iyr and discuss your trade. I cannot give you an answer.”

Harold bowed his head, and with that, returned back to his small village.

“Gramps! Gramps!” called a voice through the small hut. “Harold’s back!”

“You little shit!” shouted back an older voice. “Didn’t I tell you to show him proper respect? That’s Sir Harold to you!” The old man stumbled out to see Harold, whose face was pensive. The look of his face said it all. “Go make the tea.”

The boy quickly rushed back to find the tea, the good tea which his grandfather hid, and began to boil the kettle.

“What are you thinking, Sir Harold?” the Chief asked, walking over to the man who was around his age, and yet held so much more responsibility.

Harold sat down on a trunk, and looked up to the sky again. “It’s coming,” he said.

The Chief stared at Harold for a long while. “Should I call for them?”

“Yes,” Harold said, returning to his thoughts as he stared at the sky. He closed his eyes, feeling the rain of that day once again.

The villagers gathered, young men and women, as well as a few elderly, who waited before Harold, who was lost in his thoughts.

Harold sighed, looking to the villagers before him. “We will begin training properly. From now on, you will train daily for a period of one hour, and those of you who can handle it, two.”

The villagers stared at Harold, who had been training them reluctantly for some time, but seeing the way he stared at them, they swallowed nervously.

The Chief reached down to brush his grandson’s hair, pulling him close. Sir Harold willingly decided to train the villagers, something which the Chief had never wished for, even though he wanted his village to hold its own.

“Is everything okay, gramps?” the boy asked.

“No,” Chief said. “May Lord Sozain have mercy on our souls,” he whispered.