The camp was built around a ruined cathedral, its stained-glass long shattered, its steeple cracked like an old tooth. Whatever gods had once been worshipped here had either fled or died, and now only war banners flapped where prayers used to hang.
Alissa led me past the outer guard. Few looked my way, though some lingered with narrow eyes. I smelled steel, oil, blood, and bone-dust. I couldn't help but to grimace at it. The sense of smell of elven kind was a bit too powerful for our own good.
This was the kind of place where men died more often than they slept.
We passed between shattered archways and into the broken nave of the cathedral. It had been repurposed: the altar stripped bare, maps unfurled over the pews, crates of weaponry stacked beneath holy murals blackened by smoke.
At the far end of the room sat the king—or the warlord who would be one. He leaned forward on a broken throne of scavenged wood and dragonbone, one hand on his knee, the other clutching a goblet. His face was a ruin of its own: the right side seared with scar-tissue, the eye on that side dull and white.
He saw Alissa with his good eye. And he smiled. Thinly.
"Alissa," he said. "You weren't expected until sundown. I assume you have beaten those bastard hawk scouts back to their filthy king?"
She stepped forward. "The battle at Lowridge fell apart. The enemy pulled back after something attacked both our flanks. I brought the one who helped me."
"Helped you?" The king's tone held a faint challenge. Then he saw me. "What in the hells..."
"He's an elf," she said simply.
I gave a respectful nod. "Caelum, of the high paths. I traveled from the Spine."
The king looked me over with skepticism. "An elf. Thought your kind were dead."
"I didn't know we were supposed to be," I said. "I assume others are still out there. I just haven't found them yet."
That earned a short, humorless laugh. "That's optimism I don't expect to hear in this hall."
"I've been told I'm too quiet to sound like a threat," I said. "I find that helps."
He leaned back. "And what exactly did you do for Alissa?"
I looked toward her briefly, then spoke. "There was a green wyrmling—twisted, feral. It emerged during the battle. I used my seeds to restrain it. She killed it."
The king turned his gaze toward her. "You needed help with a wyrmling?"
"She didn't," I said before she could answer. "She could've handled it alone. She was already baiting its weak side. My interference just accelerated the outcome."
Alissa gave me a quick look — something between curiosity and mild approval.
The king raised an eyebrow. "You speak with a strange kind of humility."
"I speak what's true."
Alissa crossed her arms beside me. "He is an elf seedcaster, your grace, and he did help me. His actions probably saved half of the flank's, too."
The king's smile faded slightly, but the amusement didn't. "I must admit, I did not expect to meet a seedcaster after your kind was rendered extinct."
"And I didn't expect to meet a king in a church, but we all have disappointments in life." I replied.
Alissa seemed to dislike my joke. She probably regretted bringing me here.
But the king didn't mind, instead, he seemed to be entertained.
His laughter was dry as ash. "Fair."
He stood slowly, like a man used to battle-wounds. "Do you know who I am?"
"Not yet."
"I'm General Halbrecht. Blood son of King Osren's third wife. The other heirs are dead, and the throne's open. I have men. I have victories. I have a claim."
"No, you have a war to win," I said. "And this one here seems to think I can help you with that."
"And what do you think about it?" Halbrecht tilted his head.
"I am open to accept, though It would come with a few conditions."
"Hm. I have a war to win, you are right. That is my purpose." He leaned forward.
"And I see one in you, elf. Tell me your purpose and set your conditions."
My hands folded in front of me, fingers brushing the cloth of my satchel.
I looked to the ruined glass behind him. A pane remained intact—depicting some forgotten saint, head bowed, hands lifted in offering. Beneath the grime, I saw traces of goldleaf.
"I'm looking for something," I said. "The ruins of my tribe. If you say they are extinct, I need to know it for myself. And to visit the place I used to live, I need protection."
"Hmm." He glanced at Alissa. "You want her to escort you, I assume?"
"She's stronger than me," I continued. "Better trained. I know how to protect myself, but I've never seen someone move like that.
"Hmph." He scratched his beard. "And what will you offer me for this luxury?"
"My services," I said. "My seeds are versatile. I can defend your soldiers, grow walls, medicines, traps. I've walked dead forests and healed their roots."
He studied me for another moment. "What is your purpose with this visit? Sentiment?"
"For answers," I said. "And it would be to your benefit to have me go there while in your service, I reckon. Especially if I learn more about the magic that my tribe practiced. I am sure that knowledge isn't recorded anywhere else. It may not exist anymore. But I need to know."
"I see," he said. "But I don't run a library. I run a war."
"I don't expect charity. I have terms."
That got a laugh out of him. "Go on."
"Monthly pay," I said, "enough to travel, live, and restock my seeds."
"Done."
"A home. Something with open earth. Quiet. Light."
He nodded slowly. "We'll clear out a building for you."
"And a wife."
The hall went still. Somewhere, I heard a soldier cough.
The king blinked. Then his mouth curled into a crooked grin. "A what?"
"A wife of my choosing," I said calmly. "Someone I can rely on. I intend to travel into dangerous ruins — having someone skilled at arms at my side is logical."
He leaned forward. "You mean to recruit one of my soldiers as your escort — and marry her to make it official?"
"In a way."
"Who, then? One of the shieldmaidens?" His eye flicked to Alissa. "...Or her?"
I didn't speak.
His smile widened. "Are you serious?"
I looked at Alissa again. She hadn't moved. But she had pushed her hair back slightly — and for the second time, I saw the faint point of her ear, poking out of her long black hair.
When I first met her, I felt something shift in me. I knew she was one of my own. And she was beautiful.
Not fully elven. But not human either.
"She's half-elf," I said quietly.
"She is," the king replied. "You recognize your own? The ears I reckon?"
"I recognized her smell," I said. "Our kind gives a faint floral smell to our own. I recognized it in her when we first met."
Alissa finally spoke. "Absurd. You think blood is reason enough for this absurd proposal?"
"No," I said. "I saw you fight. You're a better warrior than I'll ever be. I've walked through mountains to reach places no one else cared about — but I've never had to fight like you do, day after day."
I paused. "If I'm to explore what's left of the ruins of my people, I would rather do it with someone who shares our ancestry. I'll also need someone who knows how to survive. Someone I trust not to flinch when a dragon rears its head."
She trembled at the words.
Dragon.
"You don't know me." she utters. "And that is not enough of a justification for marriage either. I was going to escort you anyways."
"True." I replied. "Though marriage is more of a safety net. If the elves are truly extinct, you and I are all that were left. It makes sense for me to want to preserve the species, doesn't it?"
Alissa stared at me, guarded. Dumbfounded at my boldness to utter these words right to her face.
The king looked amused.
He grinned wider. "I should let her stab you for the suggestion. And yet…"
He stood at last, looking down at us both. "This war has ruined all our customs. You, elf, want to tie yourself to a warrior who could break your jaw if she sneezes — and you," he looked at Alissa, "want to pretend you didn't drag him here because a part of you was impressed to have finally found an elf."
Alissa muttered, "Your grace! You can't just sell me off like merchandise! I didn't drag him here for this." She stood up in defiance, though her hesitation to go against the king was obvious.
"No," he said, "but you did bring him. And this seed-caster might be useful for our cause. Hell, we could plant his trees on every flank. You were right to bring him here, and you are going to obey my request, aren't you, daughter?"
"Eh?" I couldn't help but utter in surprise. I could not feel any smell coming from him, so her elven line did not originate from him. Her mother, perhaps.
I accidentally asked to marry a princess.
He turned to me again. "Caelum. Your demands are bold. But fine. You'll have your pay, your plot of soil, and your bride. If she doesn't gut you before sunrise."
"I accept those terms."
The king stepped back, waving over one of his aides. "Get the paperwork drawn up. We'll call it a political contract. She'll escort you. You'll plant your damn trees. We'll see where it goes."
He sat again, grinning.
"By the way — Welcome to Medellin!"