The color of Divinity II - The truth of Legends

The color of Divinity
By Ellnyon


Notes: :D I’m back! Sorry for the late. The first part of this chapter was written almost two months ago, but then my computer decided to break down. I’m happy I didn’t lose my works, though. Talk about lucky days… Anyway, here it is, chapter 1. My deepest thanks go to everyone following this story. Special words of appreciation and love go to those who rate and review: thank you so much for your encouragement!


Part II

Chapter 1


“Ten years.” The red-headed young man said clearly in a tone that reached every corner of the Council’s amphitheatre. All eyes focused on him, he stood undaunted in front of the Eths of the Council, most of them far older than he. To all of those, Nlie’sieri appeared to be the very definition of authority and certainty. After all, his speech had been rehearsed time and time again for the single purpose of today’s meeting. And the growing approval and attention of the audience to his person and words only made the Eth prince even more confident. Of course that reflected in his way of speaking. It made him bold and daring. And that was what the frightened voting members of the Council needed. Someone certain of something.

He let the two words hang in the air and before he spoke again, his sapphire blue eyes fell on his antagonists, mocking the only two who still refused to acknowledge his influence and superiority. He pitied them. So important and at the same time so ignored they were. He could not deny their intelligence nor did he underestimate their cleverness. However, his opponents could not face him openly, not here, not anywhere. They had no power they could use in this situation. And so they would see him win yet another battle; grow in the consideration of his peers and create his path to his awaiting crown.

He would reserve them a special place in his court. They were too beautiful, both physically and mentally to discharge. If only they weren’t so stubborn. They lived in a prison as it was, they had been disposed and left to suffer by those they were trying to protect and they still defied him in every step he took. Idiots. Both the two glaring at him and the ones they belonged to. How could they be miles away fighting a lost war in search of fame and glory, when they had such devoted beauties awaiting them in the safety and loveliness of their homeland? Such a waste. But even faithful hearts like those would break with time and disdain…

Anyway, idiots who did not valour their possessions like his brother and his oh so trusted generals, could only deserve what he had prepared for them with the aid of his own allies. He would not regret his actions. In the end he wouldn’t have to be that deceitful. He actually believed this was for the good of his country, even though the words he used and the sorrow they expressed couldn’t be more false.

“Ten years have passed since we, Eths, have sent the younger of our warriors into war.” He resumed after the short pause.

"A war that has lasted for ten years. And who was it that said we had to fight in that war?” Meya’s second prince asked the Council from his place in the pulpit, passing his eyes through the dozens of Eths in the colossal room. They returned his probing look with an expectant stare. Nlie’sieri shrugged somewhat enraged at their silence and answered his own question.

“I tell you. The exactly same ones that declared we were going to win it in a few weeks.” Some snorts were heard between the nobles and the approval they evidenced encouraged the prince to continue. “Weeks that have become months. Months that have become years. Years that became a decade. And what were we searching for when they decided, and we agreed, it was time for a war? Fame? Glory? A page in the History books?”

The approving nods and snorts ceased at this. Many Eths looked at him surprised, while others lowered their eyes in shame. The silence that followed the young Eth’s accusing enquiry was all the guilty answer he needed and expected.

“Have we gained those, Honourable members of the Council?” He asked next. Silence was his reply, so he again answered his own question. “No. What did we gain, then?” More silence followed. Nlie’sieri arched his eyebrows in an indulging manner. Then he shook his head and shrugged.

“You don’t know? Me neither, but I can tell you what we have lost.” He affirmed matter-of-factly. He pretended to think it over. “Let’s see. We have lost pride, faith, money, resources…” He sighed sadly and nodded at his own words.

“Yes, we did. But you know what? All those would’ve been minimal, if we hadn’t lost something far more important: Lives.” And he made another short pause to let his statement create the desired mourning atmosphere.

His eyes travelled the old faces, stopping for a moment on the angry dark brown eyes of his brother’s betrothal: Iararin’ne. He marvelled for a few seconds at the Ethen’s beautiful features and shining silver hair and then moved to the next old face. As it was, Iararin’ne wasn’t yet married to his brother and as long as he remained that way (and he would make sure he did), there was very little the lovely twenty years-old Ethen could do against him. Of course the second prince had gone to great lengths to ensure that even that little would not be achievable. And so, worrying instead about the task at hand, Nlie’sieri resumed his speech.

“Many of you look at the unaffordable amount of lives this war has cost us and you’re shocked. But you certainly agree with me, more than that, it’s not the quantity that really matters, but the fact that each and every of those lives has meaning. And I’m not talking about Fate, destiny or any of those significances they like to feed us in the temples. No. I’m talking about the meaning each of those lives has to us.

Look around you. How many of us, young and vigorous Eths are missing from these seats? How many of those won’t be coming back? How many sons, nephews, brothers, cousins have we lost, already? How many more do we have to lose?!

You know I’m not speaking idly. My dearest brother, your first prince, is out there, fighting this deadly war. And forgive me if I want him to return safe and sound to my side. Forgive me if I cannot forget my cousin…” Here he made another strategic pause, feigning sorrow and grief for his dead cousin.

He knew the death of Ryaen’ne had been the first real blow to the Council. And it was one of his greatest trump cards, too.

His idiotic cousin probably hadn’t known his country loved him that intensely. No one had wanted to believe it. Nobles and commoners alike. Many still didn’t believe the carefree third prince was gone for good. He had to admit it, too. It would be strange seeing his brother parading around without the tall blond next to him.

But even if he had rejoiced at his brother’s important loss, he couldn’t quite forgive Ryaen’ne. After all, the stupid Siekih heir had died in his brother’s place. (Of course, that made everyone love the brave hero oh so much more…) And in addition, after his cousin’s death, Delaen’niel was even more protected. The other knights had apparently been as shocked as the rest of the world. They hadn’t imagined that such a great warrior like Ryaen’ne could have died that easily and they had strengthened their resolve to prevent a second tragedy. As a result, his brother lived on, to Nlie’sieri’s frustration.

He finally faked recovery from his sorrow in order to continue his speech. Looking at the Siekih’s seats, he saw the old lord, with his head raised high but clearly fighting anguish, with his dark eyes wide open to prevent the tears from falling. By his side, glaring at Nlie’sieri with all his might was Midaen’niel.

‘How dare you?!’ His eyes glittered and screamed with anger, becoming even brighter with unshed tears. The second prince looked at him, mocking sympathy.

Certainly, the loveliest of all the Ethen he had ever known, the young Siekih Lessin was a painting of beauty and grace. Actually, he refined the terms. Golden hair that became lighter at the ends framed a perfect face of large sapphire blue eyes, creamy light skin, flushed cheeks and rosy lips. All this allied to a very nice figure and dignified manners.

It was only a pity the young Ethen didn’t like Nlie’sieri even a little. He challenged him at every opportunity. Nlie’sieri had amusingly started to think it was all frustration.

You see, the funniest thing was that, even though Midaen’niel was the very epitome of elegance and envied by any Ethen he ever came across, his betrothal was fighting in the war, not caring that his Ethen was already two years into marrying age. Normally, in the Eth society, this would be a scandal. There’s something very wrong with an Eth and his promised Ethen when they don’t get married in the year the latter becomes fertile (twenty years old).

But, this being a special case, where the Eth is an important general fighting in a deadly war, well, it’s quite understandable he doesn’t have time to think of marriage. Obviously, this theory was blown to hell when said Eth came to Meya a couple years back for new recruits and instead of visiting his own promised one, visited Midaen’niel’s cousin Nareill. That wasn’t a scandal. That was a huge scandal.

Now, Nlie’sieri doesn’t quite know if Lnorien Erephine really likes Nareill or if he’s just plain blind and stupid. Because this way Midaen’niel gets the right to break their commitment and he’s not only the most beautiful Ethen of Meya, he’s also royalty. With Meanea in N’Alaera and Ryaen’ne dead, he’s fourth in line to the throne. Yes, Erephine’s heir is THE idiot.

With that in mind, Nlie’sieri resumed his words, his eyes not leaving Midaen’niel. His tone was more perfect than ever: sad but certain and, noticeably, compassionate with his dear Ethen cousin.

“Forgive me if I cannot forget that Ryaen’ne, your third prince, will not be returning to see how lovely our adored Lessin Midaen’niel has become. I apologize, Lord Siekih. Your son was a hero, a brave hero we will remember forever. But, I would rather have him here with us. I’m sure you and all the members of this venerated Council would too.”

The Eths nodded in sorrow at the second prince, but if looks could kill, Midaen’niel and Iararin’ne would’ve murdered him on that spot. Those two were amusing. However, the time to play with his antagonists would have to wait. He had a mission to accomplish in this meeting and his speech was reaching his climax.

“Why did we prefer to believe what the priests were saying, instead of listening to our superior sense? Why didn’t we try to find a less damaging solution for the conflict before it even began? Why did we have to jump to conclusions and charge into war without a real knowledge of the situation? We not only underestimated our enemies, we provoked them. And this has been our punishment. All because we rushed into a so called millennium war and blindly believed that we would win it easily.” As his words poured from his lips, Nlie’sieri saw how many agreed with him, for most of his listeners nodded and showed expressions of support. But the next part of his speech would be tricky. He was about to question their beliefs and though it was a risk he forcefully had to take, it was a risk that could cost him everything.

“It may sound like blasphemy, but I don’t believe in what the priests of the Sea Temple in Loania’s island tell us, anymore. Especially when I remember that if not for prince Edyane of N’Alaera, even my cousin Iadden, with no more than nine years old at the time, would have marched for war too. No. Until the day those priests show us the dark-haired Ethen that has been controlling our actions and tests to his hair and markings are done to prove he’s the Ethen of the Legends, I will not believe another word coming from that temple. I understand the need for protection, but they have hidden him from us for too long, no one allowed to even glimpse at the Ethen. Well, conviction and faith only last for so long.

When the dark-haired Ethen appears with Maguenta’s sword in his arms and delivers it to a Maguenta’s Heir in front of my own eyes I will support a Holy war. Until then, forgive me, I believe white peace is the best resolution.”

By the end of his last statement, the whole room was silent, staring startled at him. Once more the second prince had managed to surprise the Council, Iararin’ne and Midaen’niel included. They had not been expecting that kind of boldness. However, the real shock came when the two Ethen realized the murmuring that had followed the seconds of silence and that was starting to become a noisy roar was not of reproach, but of acclamation. When the members of the Council started clapping, Nlie’sieri knew he had won them.

Meya’s people were tired of war. They were tired of being denied their wish to see the dark-haired Ethen. They were starting to doubt his real existence. If the Ethen really lived, Nlie’sieri had his own doubts since he, too, had never been able to confirm it (the priests didn’t even let anyone land on the island where the Sea Temple was built), then they had brought this on themselves. If the existence of the sacred Ethen was a fraud then they deserved this even more. Nlie’sieri had been chastised enough by the Black Wizards because he couldn’t get hold of the Ethen.

“I knew you would agree with me.” The second prince continued with a soft nod after he raised his hand and the clapping subdued. “With my father incapacitated due to his illness and in my brother’s absence you have decided to give me powers I did not wish for. Still, I could not have them and remain quiet. I had to do something about this war.

So, with this in my mind, I initiated negotiations with our opponents.” The lords in the room looked at each other, once again taken aback. The red-head prince nodded at their questioning eyes.

“Yes, and I realized they desire peace as much as we do. This war is costing them, too. They are not the beasts we believed they were. They are civilized people.

I posed my conditions and they posed their own. Most everything has been cleared between us. We have just some small divergences regarding their North borders, so negotiations have not been completely concluded yet. However, I can tell you today with great satisfaction, that as we speak their armies have already disbanded and our own are returning home.

Gentlemen, the war is over!” Between the amazed Eths and Ethen in the room, Midaen’niel and Iararin’ne looked at each other frightened. And as most of the Council raised from their seats to applaud the second prince, the two Ethen finally realized things were out of their hands, because this sudden peace could not mean anything good. Not when it came from the ambitious Nlie’sieri. The conclusion of his speech confirmed it.

“With Maguenta’s blessing my Father will soon get better, my brother will be home shortly and you won’t need me anymore. Still, I promise you this: as long as I maintain any kind of power and the Black Wizards do not trespass our borders, none of our Eths will have to go to war again and our Ethen won’t have to wait any longer than the LAW demands for their betrothals. Thank you.”

Among ovations and loud clapping, Nlie’sieri descended from the platform, a proud smile on his lips. Mission accomplished. No one could stop them now…

&&&&&&&

Iararin’ne entered the large main hall of the Siekih’s mansion and took off his hooded cape. The butler who had opened the door kneeled and remained silent, for he was not allowed to speak first in the presence of a noble Ethen. Particularly the one who would become Meya’s next vice-king.

“Good morning. I’m here to visit Lessin Midaen’niel. Is he home?” The silver-haired Ethen asked with a polite smile.

Acting accordingly to etiquette, the tall butler rose, but kept his head bowed as he answered the noble.

“Yes, Milessin. He’s in his room.” Iararin’ne nodded.

“I see. Please send word that I have arrived. He should be expecting me. I would like to greet Lord Siekih first, though.” The tall butler bowed.

“As you wish, Milessin. I will announce you right away. Please, come this way.” He replied, leading the Ethen to a small waiting room not very far from the entrance. “Lord Siekih has visits of his own. I’ll see if he can receive you.”

Iararin’ne nodded and sat in one of the small chairs next to the round coffee table in the centre of the room.

“Can I get you something while you wait?” Iararin’ne shook his head.

“No, I’m good, thank you.” The butler bowed.

“If you’ll excuse me, then, Milessin.” He said. Iararin’ne nodded and the butler left, closing the door and leaving the noble Ethen alone.

Iararin’ne remained seated in the small waiting room, looking out of the tall windows facing the manor’s lush gardens. He wondered what Midaen’niel had to tell him that required such urgency, they had been together just the afternoon before in the council meeting, and what did it have to do with the object he had to steal from the palace and bring on Midaen’niel’s request.

The calm morning of clear blue skies he could see just outside the glass door windows did nothing to soothe his worries. What had Midaen’niel seen this time? Lost in his thoughts Iararin’ne almost didn’t notice the door opening abruptly. He turned to its direction convinced he would find the tall butler. To the silver-haired Ethen’s surprise, however, it was not the proper man, but someone far more despicable who appeared. Someone he had not expected to see in the Siekih’s home at all. His heart froze under the cruel stare of cold blue eyes.

A few taken aback seconds too late, Iararin’ne rose and bowed his head.

“Your Highness, prince Nlie’sieri. Please, forgive my manners, I was not expecting you.” He hurried to explain.

The red-head man smiled knowingly. He advanced two large steps into the small room and reached for Iararin’ne’s hand, too close for comfort. Lowering his head at the same time he raised the silver Ethen’s hand, his eyes caught Iararin’ne’s alarmed coffee-brown ones. He whispered in a seductive tone, just before he slightly touched the Ethen’s delicate fingers with his lips.

“I hope I was a good surprise…” It was with satisfaction that he felt more than heard the short gasp that escaped the Ethen’s lips and confronted the glare the brown eyes were giving him. The silver-haired Ethen opened his mouth to speak, but if he was about to answer the prince with a remark, the red-head never got to hear it, for a deep voice coming from the entrance stopped him before he could utter a word.

“Now I see why you ended our conversation so abruptly, my prince.” The old Siekih lord declared, amusement lightening his dark eyes. Nlie’sieri rose to his full height, turned and let go of the Ethen’s hand quickly in an uncomfortable display. He then lowered his head a little, appearing somewhat embarrassed, but his arm kept intimately touching Iararin’ne’s shoulder. The Ethen looked at him, confused, not understanding the sudden change in behaviour. But the old lord’s next words were enough to enlighten and show him how well Nlie’sieri played his trump cards.

“Since you have always been someone so averse to the power the Council granted you in the absence of your brother, I never quite understood why you said you envied him. Well, now I can finally see why.” Iararin’ne’s eyes widened. Surely Lord Siekih was not implying… the Ethen turned to the prince and yes, that was the exact impression Nlie’sieri was giving by immediately rushing into an explanation. The deceitful bastard.

“Milord, I would never-“ The tall white-haired lord raised his hand stopping the prince in mid-statement and dismissed the subject with a wave.

“No one will hear it from me.” He affirmed concluding the topic. He gestured for them to take a seat and they did.

“My child, you look lovely, as always.” The old lord said then, turning to the flushed Ethen. Contrary to what lord Siekih most probably would think, Iararin’ne was not blushing of awkwardness before Nlie’sieri’s attentions, but of resentment towards his future brother-in-law. He made use of all his strength to control himself.

“Thank you, milord. I hope I find you well.” He answered regaining his cool.

“I am. And now that the war is over, I am even better.” The old lord replied, smiling gratefully at Nlie’sieri. Iararin’ne forced a smile upon his face. Nlie’sieri had finally gained Lord Siekih’s support, too. First his own brother, now Midaen’niel’s father. Things were worse than they thought.

“I suppose you didn’t come to visit this old man?” The Siekih lord asked, affectionately. Iararin’ne smiled sheepishly.

“I am sorry. I heard Midaen’niel was unwell, so I came to see if he needed anything and try to cheer him up.” Upon hearing these words, Midaen’niel’s father sighed.

“Thank you, my child. You and milord Iadden have been inestimable in these hard times. I’m glad Midaen’niel and I can count on your friendship and support. You know my son never did quite accept Ryaen’ne’s death. Every time the topic comes up, Midaen’niel closes himself and becomes distant. Those two were very close.” Nlie’sieri sighed.

“Forgive me. I am at fault for that.” The white-haired lord shook his head.

“It’s a reality we have to face sooner or later, my prince. You have nothing to apologize for.”

“I know, but still. I hope my gift will at least please my dear cousin. Ethen so caring and delicate such as Milessin Midaen’niel and Milessin Iararin’ne suffer more with this war than we Eths could ever do.” Iararin’ne made an effort not to glare at his future brother-in-law. Lord Siekih snorted.

“That’s why Ethen shouldn’t concern themselves with those matters.” The silver-haired Ethen in the room furrowed his brows at the old lord for his statement.

“How can we not?! When our loved ones and our people are fighting in the war?” He replied, in a hurt tone. Nlie’sieri smiled indulgently.

“See? Lessin Midaen’niel and my dear Iararin’ne worry about a withering flower and you don’t want them to worry about dying men? They are far too delicate and demure. That’s why they’re so precious…” Midaen’niel’s father nodded at this while Iararin’ne glowered at the prince who simply smiled in return.

“Well, this scandal about his wedding has not been helping Midaen’niel’s spirits either.” Nlie’sieri arched his eyebrows but dismissed the lord’s concerns with a wave.

“Lord Erephine comes from an honourable lineage and he is a proper man from what I know. You are worrying for nothing.” Midaen’niel’s father sighed.

“Don’t misunderstand me. The longer my son remains with me, the happiest I am. I just don’t like what people mutter behind my Ethen child’s back…”

Two knocks on the closed door interrupted the conversation between the three.

“Yes?” The owner of the manor called. The tall butler, from before, opened the door and bowed.

“Forgive me, Masters. Milessin Iararin’ne, Master Midaen’niel will see you now. He apologizes to your Highness, Prince Nlie’sieri, but he is still indisposed and not proper enough to receive you. He wrote this note for you, your Highness. Nlie’sieri rose swiftly and took the scented piece of paper the butler was handing him.

“Thank you.” He said, sitting down again. “There was no need.” Silence followed his words, while the old lord bowed his head in a silent apology to the second prince who was reading the note. It was Iararin’ne who broke the awkward ambience by speaking to the butler.

“I brought a small chest with some embroidered cloths for Midaen’niel to see. Could you carry it upstairs?” The tall Eth bowed.

“Certainly, Milessin. I will take care of it right away.” The butler left with a bow and Iararin’ne seized the opportunity to leave too.

“Well, my prince, my lord, with your blessings, I’ll be going. I’ll see if I can cheer Midaen’niel up a little.”

“Thank you for coming, Milessin. You are always most welcome in this house.” Lord Siekih replied with a smile. The red-head prince folded the paper and turned to the silver-haired Ethen with a blank expression.

“Milessin Iararin’ne, please tell Lessin Midaen’niel I loved his thanking poem and that he doesn’t need to worry. Also tell him that I’ll forgive him… this time. Next time, however, I demand to see him. I’m certain that nothing can diminish his beauty (or yours). Illness and tears included.” Iararin’ne smiled softly at the Eth’s words.

“You would be surprised, my prince.” He replied in an even tone, getting up from his chair. The two Eth rose at the same time he did.

“If you’ll excuse me, milord.” He concluded before he bowed, turned and left the room. As he closed the door behind him, Iararin’ne was still able to hear Nlie’sieri’s comment.

“We have been blessed, milord Siekih, with very delicate and devoted Ethen.” Certainly not noticing the prince’s somewhat sarcastic undertone, the old Lord answered with honesty.

“Indeed.”

TBC…


Ending notes: Waaah. This was one messy chapter. First I wrote the speech, then I wrote the in-betweens, then I had to re-write the speech. XD Ah!Ah! I’m tired. I don’t think I could write speeches for a living. It serves me right, putting so much politics and wars in my story. Nlie’sieri POV was something else, too. He is such a nice guy!