The sun is setting on a distant horizon, the sky turning a deep, shimmering orange. The air is heavy with the smell of smoke and sweat as a grisly scene unfolds before the eyes. In the center of a barren, blood-soaked field, stands a single figure: a hulking brute of a woman, clad in crude armor, wielding a fearsome axe in one hand and a battered mace in the other. Her gaze is wild, a combination of rage, fear, and desperation. She stands surrounded by a dozen or more corpses, all bearing the same signs of violence: broken bones, wounds, and blood.
The woman surveys the scene with a stoic and determined expression, a single tear rolling down her cheek. She is surrounded by death, yet she stands resolute in her defiance. Behind the woman, the remains of a once-happy village burns brightly, orange flames licking at the ruins of the walls and towers. Claw marks marred the once-tidy cottages, and broken arrows lay scattered on the blood-soaked ground. Smoke trails lazily up into the sky, a reminder of the carnage that had taken place here.
Beneath her feet lies another figure, motionless. It is a woman, her body broken and bruised, her clothing torn and burned. She looks as if she has been through hell and beyond, but still, a faint glimmer of hope can be seen in her eyes.
A toddler's cry made the hulking woman turn her attention.
A handful of survivors emerged from the ruins. Among them was a mother, her arms tightly wrapped around two young children who clung to her for comfort. The pain in her eyes mirrored the devastation that surrounded them, and she cried as she hugged her children tight.
Further down the aged cobblestone path, an elderly man carefully guided a wounded woman with a makeshift bandage around her arm. He moved with a steady determination, his weathered face showing both grief and resilience.
In a corner of the village square, a group of men gathered their few remaining belongings into large sacks. Their expressions were grim, their shoulders hunched with the weight of loss and uncertainty. They exchanged solemn nods, each understanding the gravity of their situation.
The village, nestled at the edge of the Elgwood forest, had always fallen victim to relentless attacks from monsters of the dark forest but never at this scale. It was never this bad.
Amidst the preparations to leave their shattered village, an older man approached the beast of a woman, his hand resting on the hilt of a sheathed sword at his side. "Where are we going, Vojnka?" His voice was steady, but the worry was clear.
Vojnka turned and gazed at the horizon, her expression unreadable. She took a deep breath, the scent of smoke still lingering in the air. "Drakoria," she replied firmly, her voice carrying the weight of a difficult decision. The name echoed through the weary souls of the survivors. "Let's start a new life in Drakoria."
┌─────── ⇦♕⇨ ───────┐
As the heavy oaken doors creaked open, the druid delegation stepped into the grand hall, their presence accompanied by the subtle scent of nature. Among them, an older woman with wisps of silver hair peeking from beneath her cloak and a young girl with captivating bright green eyes caught my attention. The young woman clutched an exquisite, large egg in her beautiful hands, its intricate patterns and colors hinting at exotic origins.
Cloaked in dusty garments, the druids' attire, like the one before them bore the marks of their deep connection with nature. Twigs and leaves adorned their cloaks, seemingly woven into the fabric as if the forest itself had bestowed them with these organic embellishments.
As they approached, their hoods were pushed back, revealing the women's faces. The older druid had a countenance that spoke of ancient wisdom and timeless grace. Her face bore the marks of a life well-lived, yet her eyes sparkled with youthful vitality. Standing beside her, the young girl, who seemed to embody the very essence of nature's beauty, lowered her gaze shyly, but her radiant allure could not be concealed.
"Greetings, King of Drakoria," the older woman spoke with a voice that resonated like the whispering wind in the woods, and the subtle rustle of her cloak seemed to echo her connection to the natural world. "I am Eowyn of Bosvolk, and this is my grand-daughter, Isadora."
I acknowledged them with a nod, intrigued by the mystical aura surrounding the egg and captivated by the beautiful presence of the two druids. The atmosphere was charged with anticipation because I have been waiting for this meeting for days.
[ Name : Eowyn of Bosvolk ]
[Class : Druid]
[Level : 76]
[Attack : 35 (+580)]
[Defense : 20(+770)]
[Agility : 6(+390)]
[Stamina : 10(+400)]
[Skills : Shape-shifting, Herbalism, Divination, Moon magic, Illusionary cloak]
[Name : Isadora]
[Class : Unawakened]
[+]more
"If we had known your majesty is an awakened we would have brought a more suitable gift"
My right brow arched in shock; I pondered how she could have figure out my awakened status. None of her listed skills explained it, and I doubt it was [Divination].
Isadora who had been bringing forth the egg, paused in confusion of the hushed murmurs that her grandmother's statement had made.
The older woman's expression faltered for a moment, realizing the impact of her words. "Seems like I said something I shouldn't have," she admitted, a touch of regret in her voice. "I apologize."
"It's alright," I reassured her, signaling a knight to collect the gift from Isadora's hands. The knight gently received the delicate egg, careful not to disturb it.
Even though I didn't want it out I felt a tinge of relief that it was said, and it was said the way it was said. The reactions mirrored disbelief. They all seemed shocked, like something impossible had been said. Everybody except for the old mage, who remained composed, betraying no emotion.
"We are here to discuss the terms of joining the kingdom of Drakoria," Eowyn stated "And to solidify it with a marriage between our two families."
"Terms?" I echoed, caught off guard by the unexpected proposal. "I made my offer clear. It is take it or leave it, no harms done."
"I beg your majesty to reconsider" she pleaded her tone completely diplomatic. "We would have accepted your gracious offer but our...unique circumstances make it impossible to adhere to a new law you made. I assure you the terms are reasonable."
Curiosity piqued, I inquired, "What are the terms?"
"Marriage between the two families and an exemption from compulsory recruitment," Eowyn replied calmly.
I paused, contemplating their proposition. "Of what use are you to me if I cannot count on you to defend the kingdom when the time comes?"
"We understand that it is an impossible ask. We have something of great value to offer in compensation and hope you reflect on it"
"What?"
"It would be ill-advised to say it publicly" she said.
As I considered Eowyn's words, my gaze shifted to the young girl. Isadora. She stood slightly withdrawn, her eyes downcast and hands fidgeting nervously, revealing her shyness. About 5'8, and though it is a shame she's not awakened, her delicate beauty was definitely enough distraction to ignore that little flaw. Amidst her dark hair, a few green strands weave through, like fresh grass kissed by morning dew, adding a whimsical touch to her beauty. I have always scoffed at the idea of marriage but she makes a convincing case.
"I will hear your offer over dinner tonight" I finally said. "And you will have my final answers when we reconvene tomorrow. The maids will show you to your rooms".
She bowed and the court was dismissed.
[Copy Countdown : 30 Seconds]
As everyone departed the throne room, I noticed the witch in the company of the old mage, engaging in a hushed conversation. I called out, "Helene?" My voice carried across the hall, and she turned to look at me. "A word"
She exchanged a look with the old mage and started walking towards me.
My heart raced, and my breath quickened, anticipating the gravity of the moment.
[Copy Countdown : 10 seconds]
I led the way to my bed chambers, with Helene following closely. The air between us was silent, but the atmosphere felt natural and easy.
Upon entering my chambers, I began to remove my clothes without uttering a word.
"Take off your clothes"
"Why?" Her eyes narrowed suspiciously, confused.
I met her gaze confidently, asking, "Why not?"
She regarded me thoughtfully.
"Only if you won't withdraw"
"...I never planned on it."