The color of Divinity II - The truth of Legends

The color of Divinity
By Ellnyon

Notes: My deepest thanks to all who read my stories, especially those who rate and review. To the latter and to those who encourage and root for me, I’d like to offer my apologies for my absences. It hasn’t been easy to keep up with everything going on in my life and my writing ends up inevitably in second place. I am truly sorry. But I’m still here and writing, so give it a try once in a while, okay? Thanks!

Also it’s my first time writing a more graphic scene, so please don’t be too disappointed, I’m sure I’ll get better at it.

That said, please enjoy the new chapter.

Part II

Chapter 7


With an unwavering voice, Delaen’niel ordered the west gate to the Sacred Wall to be opened. Not wasting a second, one of the Eth knights next to him hurried to deliver the message to the gatekeepers in charge of that gatehouse.

The Eth prince, though, remained where he was, in the high surveillance tower, looking attentively down to the floor below and to the hooded men carrying the dark-blue banner depicting silver cross swords partially hid by a black ship with silver sails.

The daunting prince of N’Alaera stood by the blond prince’s side, as did his faithful adviser, Quera, both looking, instead, with questioning eyes, at the Eth prince.

As soon as the four hooded men had neared the Sacred Wall and had faced the Alliance’s army placed along its bulwarks, its archers ready to kill, they had unfolded their banner as if that alone would open the fortress gates to them. What was effectively true given Delaen’niel’s reaction.

Edyane didn’t know who it belonged to, though, for he had never seen that crest before. Still, gazing at his friend’s face, he felt no more reassured with the knowledge the prince of Meya possessed.

Quiet since that moment, Delaen’niel had opened his mouth only to issue the order that those men had to be guided inside the fortress the Alliance’s army currently occupied.

Still, despite his sure order, Delaen’niel had an aura of apprehension about him and a deep frown marred his features. Lost in his thoughts, he almost appeared to be in some kind of trance.

Not knowing what to make of his friend’s eerie expression, Edyane looked down to the four hooded men below. Ten years of war had taught him some things. And one of them was that men only hid their faces in two kinds of situations. Or they were afraid of something…or they were up to no good. Whatever was the case here, he ought to be careful.

Judging from his expression, Delaen’niel’s guess as to why those men were here was as good as his own, even if the Eth seemed to realize who they represented.

Still, Edyane decided the strangers would be the ones he would ask his questions to. After all, they were the only ones who could provide the correct answers.

With this thought in mind, he turned on his feet and started heading for the exit of the tower. Perhaps the appearance of that strange party of men was nothing alarming, but Edyane couldn’t shake the uneasy feeling that something was very wrong. Maybe this peace treaty was putting him on edge. Still, something in the current state of affairs, with Lnorien’s delay and the arrival of unknown Eth knights, just shouted to him that he was not going to like the news those mysterious men brought with them.

“Let’s go meet them. Whoever they are.” He said. Unsurprisingly, Delaen’niel and Quera followed him swiftly. Even if they remained silent, it was obvious they shared his worries. Maguenta, Edyane just hoped they were making a tempest in a teapot. He didn’t think he and his army could take another dose of tragedy coming their way.

&&&&&&&

Despite being a secondary gate facing north, used for supplies and small groups of men, the Sacred Wall’s west gate, reinforced by a heavy drawbridge and the moat that surrounded the whole Wall, was still a part of the mighty fortress. And as such, constructed to endure the nastiest of attacks.

The gate was composed by strong iron bars which, due to an intricate system of pulleys, could be hastily lowered to reinforce an already huge set of thick wooden doors. Still, even during battle, because of its favorable location, this iron gate was generally unused and the wooden plank constantly lowered in order to allow the flow of people and supplies and subsequently avoid the hardships of a possible siege.

Because this was the case, the four hooded men crossed the gate rather effortless, entering the fortress without anything stopping them. But this was where the simplicity of their task ended. The sight that greeted the four as they exited the threshold of the gate was awe-striking, to say the least. In their situation, and considering their purpose there, it was highly fearsome, too.

Hundreds of warriors from various races surrounded them on all sides. A great amount of archers watched them intently from their places on the bulwarks and small windows covering the Sacred Wall on the inside, their bows as ready to shoot now as they had been when faced outside. The infantry warriors, including some from the feared Eth infantry, formed a mass in front of the riders, holding their weapons tightly, ready for usage should they be needed. They all looked at them with distrust patent on their features.

The man commanding the four riders couldn’t help but feel a little intimidated, but that sight didn’t weaken his resolve in the least. If anything, it heightened it.

When he had decided to take action, he had given up on his fate and his life. For there were things he valued more than those. People he loved more than his own self. He had behaved like a child for long enough. He would no longer stay still because of his own prejudices while watching the scheming of others that could jeopardize everything.

And in that moment, he knew he was in the right place. With an odd sense of pride and righteousness, he felt relieved. Not all was lost. The army had not disbanded. They were together still and ready to fight. He gripped his banner more tightly. And he would follow them, I he was allowed.

Suddenly, the mass of men parted to let a single human pass. It was a hunky man bearing two gigantic axes in his hands. His dark-skin glistened in the morning sun, covering the bulging muscles of his arms and the ferocious expression of his face.

Without a hint of hesitation, the man approached them with defiance in his dark eyes. The leader of the four riders analyzed the man carefully as he neared them and concluded one thing from his demeanor and the reactions of the army around them: he was a general.

“Just so you know,” The man started with an authoritarian tone, surprisingly speaking the Eth language perfectly. “I’m in a lousy mood today, so I’ll advise you to answer my two questions quickly and synthetically. Who are you and what the Hell are you doing here?” He enquired, with a mischievous smirk while looking at the four riders in the eye.

Not caring that his three guards had backed down in fear under the scrutiny of the human general, the Eth leader decided he didn’t like the arrogance of the human. A N’Alaera noble, for certain, one of those who followed the utterly arrogant prince Edyane. All of a sudden, he was reminded of why he had always refused to join the Aliance’s army and had sided with Nlie’sieri in the first place. He hated both princes who commanded it.

Huffing in discontentment, the leader of the riders pushed his hood back with the hand not holding his family banner, revealing neatly cut silver hair and handsome features. “I would like an audience with Prince Delaen’niel of Meya.” He declared, unruffled, in an even tone.

The human general narrowed his eyes at him, not minding the other three who had backed some. Scoffing, he spoke directly to him.

“Some traits of your language still elude me. Perhaps I’ve not made myself cle-” He started, only to be interrupted by the man he was talking to.

“I understood you perfectly.” The Eth declared with a nonchalant shrug. “So I expect you to comprehend me as well. I asked about Prince Delaen’niel. I do believe you know who that is?”

The dark-skinned human pursed his lips in irritation and gripped his axes a little tighter. Glancing briefly at the Eth’s banner, he then returned his gaze at the elegant silver-haired rider again, taking in his fine clothing and his purebred northern battle horse.

“You’re not a messenger. You’re a noble. A rich one.” The human stated with a shrug. “I can see that. Where you’re from, that might be a great thing, but in here, it means nothing. I suggest you tell me your name and business quickly … or else.” He said inclining his head in the direction of the awaiting warriors behind him.

The Eth merely scoffed, looking sideways, not heeding the human.

“I don’t think you’re in a position to threaten me nor I advise you to do it.” He said. His horse neighed as if agreeing with him. The dark-skinned human looked at him in disbelief.

His patience completely lost, he was about to raise his right axe in rage, when a clamor in the crowd of warriors grabbed his and the riders’ attention.

As the warriors parted and bowed, three men became visible among the crowd.

The blond Eth prince gasped as he took a good look at the riders’ leader. His expression one of pleasant surprise, he ran to meet him.

The silver-haired Eth furrowed his brows in confusion when he realized that that tall, attractive, blond Eth was his first prince, Delaen’niel of Meya. For a moment, he couldn’t quite believe his eyes. Certainly, he hadn’t seen the man for ten years, but still, he had changed too much. In every way.

He looked more of a warrior for one, with muscles more defined and several scars marring his visible tanned skin. Also, with his hair kept irregularly short and the simple attire he wore, he looked more commonplace too. Surely, nothing like the pompous prince he used to be, parading around the Capitol in his white stallion with his golden armor shining in the sun.

But, more than all that, it was the simple way he ran to them, seeming sincere and genuinely happy to see him, without a hint of the arrogant behavior he would have had ten years ago. So very different from his brother Nlie’sieri.

“By Maguenta, Lian’niel, is that you?” He said, nearing them, with a smile. “You became such a fine man. I barely recognized you. I mean, I knew your family’s crest, of course, but to think you were the one to carry it, I would have never imagined it.”

The dark-skinned human lowered his axe, casting glances at Delaen’niel and the newcomer Eth. “You know him?” He asked the Eth prince, arching his eyebrows. The blond nodded at the human.

“Yes, Tenaii, I’m sorry.” He answered with a smile. “This is Lian’niel Benur’el. Heir to the Benur’el High noble family. My betrothed’s brother. He’s a friend.” The human looked up at the Eth noble who had yet to descend from his horse. His eyes narrowed in doubt. Still, if he was suspicious of anything, he decided not to comment on it, introducing himself instead.

“I’m Tenaii Ruana, noble from N’Alaera and general of its army. I hope you won’t take offence on my previous actions, Lord Benur’el.” Lian’niel nodded, still surprised at Delaen’niel’s unusual behavior, and dismounted from his mare. As he had thought, that man was one of Prince Edyane’s followers.

“Don’t worry, I won’t, Sir Ruana.” He said, bowing his head slightly in greetings. A minor commotion followed his words.

Raising his head, the silver-haired noble realized that the two humans who had been accompanying the Eth prince had reached them at last. With some satisfaction, he saw the many warriors around them starting to disband, disappearing quickly inside the large fortress’ walls as previously ordered by the humans who had arrived.

Lian’niel’s green eyes fell first on the glare the pale blond human, whose features almost resembled an Eth, gave to the dark-skinned human who had ‘welcomed’ him and felt even more satisfied. Especially at the latter’s huff of irritation.

Then, a conversation to his left captured his attention and he turned to the handsome auburn-haired human talking to his first prince. Delaen’niel was introducing him to the man what gave him some time to assess the dashing warrior.

The human was as tall as an average Eth, with almost shoulder-length auburn hair, kept shorter in front of his face in a rugged style as if shortened on haste, merely for the purpose of not getting in his way. He had a tanned complexion, equally marred by small, almost invisible scars, and a well-built physique. His features were strong and agreeable, but the most impressive thing about him was the clever and sharp amber eyes. Despite the human’s noticeable lack of care towards his appearance, Lian’niel had to recognize the man was utterly handsome. And if the rumors were correct, he had a feeling he knew exactly who that human was.

“Well, I’m Edyane of N’Alaera. Delaen’niel’s friends are my friends as well. It’s a pleasure to meet you.” The man said with a short bow, with an affable voice and a smile on his face. Lian’niel bowed as well, but he was not as happy as the other two. He had been correct in his assumptions. That man was effectively the crown prince of N’Alaera. The one Iadden spoke about with so much admiration.

He had hated that man since he had heard the Guinare lord complimenting the human for the first time and now that he had finally met him and had realized how attractive he was, he could only hate him more.

“Prince Delaen’niel and I were never friends.” He spoke matter-of-factly, implying he was no friend of the human prince either. With a sigh, he turned to the blond Eth prince. “I never liked you, I never hid it.” And that was the utmost truth. Lian’niel had always stated his displeasure towards his first prince.

The man used to parade around Meya with arrogance, as if he was above everything and everyone. Lian’niel had hated that. Nlie’sieri was the same, he knew. That was why the silver-haired noble didn’t like him either. Still, what had made him choose to befriend Nlie’sieri instead of Dealen’niel had simply been the fact that he felt the latter was being disrespectful to his family. After all, he had always paid more attention to his best friend Ryaen’ne than to Lian’niel’s brother, Iararin’ne Benur’el, who was his betrothed.

He knew why, of course. The silver-haired Eth had always been very perceptive and of course he had realized Delaen’niel’s requited love for the third prince. Lian’niel couldn’t exactly blame Ryaen’ne. The Siekih lord hadn’t had an intended. It fell on Delaen’niel the responsibility to respect, if not their tradition, at least his betrothed, who had always been infatuated with him and still was, even after he was aware of everything the man had done with the third prince. Still, what had frustrated him more at the time was that Delaen’niel always acted as if he was above reprehension.

If the Eth prince had been honest with his feelings, less cold and mighty, Lian’niel would’ve respected him. Hell, he might even have forgiven and supported him. Because he could relate. He knew you did not choose to love a fellow Eth. It simply happened. After all, the silver-haired noble had been in love with Iadden Guinare for the past five years.

And that was the reason why he hated the prince of N’Alaera as well. It was obvious Iadden felt something for the man. Not that he could do anything about it. In any case, he, like Iadden, were heirs to high noble houses. They had a duty to continue their bloodline with an Ethen. They could never be together. With or without the interference of the handsome prince.

Nonetheless, he couldn’t stop a flicker of envy at the sight of the man who had conquered Iadden’s admiration. It was so hard to please the powerful Guinare. Not that Lian’niel had been striving to accomplish it. Working for the man Iadden had been trying so hard to stop and all. And for all the good reasons, too.

Iadden, the silver-haired Eth could say, was the only one always thinking of Meya and its people and never of himself. He was the one who, along with lovely Midaen’niel and his gentle brother Iararin’ne, dared to defy the second prince. But this time not even he would be able to control Nlie’sieri and that was why Lian’niel had decided to act as well.

Nowadays, when he looked back at his actions, he always ended up chastising himself. He had been a fool. Little more than a pawn in the second prince’s plans.

All had started when he had decided to stay behind ten years ago, despite his amazing skills in combat, due to his disappointment with the first and third princes. At that time it had felt logic to become Nlie’sieri’s friend. They were both high nobles and they were nearly the same age. He had judged him completely harmless and even a fairly good guy.

When, sometime later, Nlie’sieri spoke to him about his plans to kill the first prince during the war, Lian’niel had laughed and had agreed with it, thinking the second prince would never attempt such an awful thing. But then Ryaen’ne had died and he had realized part of his mistake, for the first time understanding how serious Nlie’sieri was about getting the throne.

Still, he had never truly felt that Nlie’sieri had the upper hand in his struggles, with Iadden against him and all. Due to that, he kept following him, because the alternative was to become close to Iadden and he was, by that time, coming to the conclusion that he liked the Guinare heir more than he should. So, for the sake of his family and sanity, he decided to keep very far away from Iadden. In his opposition, to be exact.

However, some weeks ago, he had discovered the extent of a betrayal he had been accomplice to. Unwillingly, he had stumbled upon the whole truth of his second prince’s plans. And it had made him sick. And filthy. And dishonest. And he had realized he had not only been utterly blind, an idiot and a fool, he had also been a torturer, a murderer and a traitor to his king, to his country and to his God.

He hadn’t expected Delaen’niel to welcome him with a smile. Lian’niel had never treated the first prince with as much reverence let alone kindness. But, now, looking at the man he had conspired to kill, he knew he didn’t deserve any kindness. He was a worst person than Delaen’niel had ever been. At least his first prince had been risking his life for his people. And what had he been doing? Helping to destroy their hard work. Helping to destroy everything.

He only wanted a chance to warn them. After that, his fate and his life would be in the hands of the man he had spent a lifetime criticizing.

Delaen’niel had laughed and smiled at his words while the auburn-haired prince looked at both of them, confused. Still, with a good-humored smile, the Eth prince put a hand on the silver-haired Eth’s shoulder.

“Lian’niel, it’s true we had our differences, but that was almost a lifetime ago. You’re Iararin’ne’s brother and a reliable Eth. Believe me, after ten years fighting in a war, I think I’m aware of whom my enemies and friends are. And you are definitely a friend.” He affirmed with a cheerful expression, sure of his words.

Hearing that, Lian’niel felt even more like the sneaky traitor he was. Despite everything, there stood Dealen’niel in front of him, trusting his loyalty and dedication to his country, believing he would respect and support his first prince even when he disliked him. Delaen’niel trusted his subjects to do the right thing. Like the Eth conduct stated. Like the Eth army did.

Could it be that the first prince had absolutely no idea a conspiracy against him was underway? Or was he as deceitful as Nlie’sieri and that was a test? Lian’niel couldn’t be sure which was the truth, but he would still do the right thing for his country. For if Delaen’niel was naïve to the point of believing every Eth was as selfless as the warriors in his army, he would definitely need all the help he could get to protect Meya.

No, if Delaen’niel had become such an Eth, who thought first of his country and only then of his personal needs, then he deserved all the help he could get. Including Lian’niel’s own servitude. He would not fall lower than he already had.

“That’s your problem, my Prince. I don’t think you do realize who your enemies are.” The Eth noble affirmed in a low tone. The strawberry-blond prince furrowed his eyebrows at that. And the silver-haired Eth couldn’t stop thinking that if the man was being dishonest, he was incredibly good at feigning ignorance. The human prince looked at him with a similar frown.

“What do you mean?” Delaen’niel asked softly, letting his hand drop from the silver-haired man’s shoulder, perhaps sensing the gravity of the situation in the Benur’el’s heir tone.

“I am here for a reason.” Said man started, resolution clear in his manners. He had stayed silent for long enough. “What I came all this way to tell you is urgent and very important. A case of life or death. It will not be easy for me to tell you, nor will it be easy for you to listen. In the end, you are allowed to hate me. And you have every right to punish me as you see fit. But first, you must promise me you’ll listen to all that I have to say. I beg of you, Prince Delaen’niel. For Meya.” The two princes gazed at the silver-haired noble alarmed. Seeing their faces, Quera and Tenaii approached them. Behind them some Eth warriors helped Lian’niel’s guards take their horses to the stables.

“By Maguenta, Lian’niel, you are scaring me. What is it?” The strawberry blond prince pleaded. Divining the seriousness of the matter, Quera interrupted the Eth prince.

“Perhaps we should take this inside the fortress.” He offered, eyeing the surrounding walls filled with men. They weren’t paying attention to them now, but they would if they noticed any worrisome reactions. However, Delaen’niel was too concerned to move from there.

“I want to know now. What is happening in Meya?” He demanded, not accepting Quera’s proposition. Lian’niel sighed but nodded. He would’ve preferred to talk in private, but he knew Nlie’sieri had no human connivers, so he guessed he could speak in front of the prince and his followers. Besides, Iadden was friends with the human prince and if that didn’t make him a safe ally, nothing would. Also, Delaen’niel would need friends to support him when he told him what he knew. So, straightforward as was his personality, Lian’niel spoke.

“It’s your brother, Prince Nlie’sieri. He intends to ruin the Alliance.”

The other four looked at him as if he had grown a second head.

“What?!” They said in unison, almost with amused expressions. They became suddenly grim when they realized from his face that Lian’niel was far from joking.

“He has allied himself with the Death Whisperers.” The Eth noble continued, in his steady tone. “That’s how the peace treaty came to be. Prince Nlie’sieri has promised them the breaking of the Alliance.”

“And how does he intend to do that?!” Tenaii asked, skeptical of the silver-haired man’s words. Said Eth shook his head.

“That I do not know. I haven’t got all the details.” He said truthfully. He hadn’t discovered that part. He only knew the peace treaty was a means to destroy the Alliance. How, he hadn’t been able to figure out, even though he had tried. Because Nlie’sieri didn’t trust his own men with his plans. He only told them what they needed to know.

“What could they possibly give him in return?” The pale-haired human pondered out loud, also doubting. Lian’niel answered him as if it had been obvious from the start.

“The throne of Meya.” He said matter-of-factly. “His allegiance with them goes back to before the war even began. He has been poisoning His majesty, the King, for years and asking the Wizards for Prince Delaen’niel’s death in exchange for information regarding the Alliance’s army.” He concluded, lowering his head slightly in silent apology when he noticed his first prince’s gaze upon him. Delaen’niel’s expression was momentarily blank.

“By Maguenta, now it makes sense.” Quera said suddenly, the first to consider the silver-haired Eth’s words. “The successive attempts at your life throughout all these years, Delaen…”

The prince of Meya turned to the pale-haired human, finally with emotion filling his features. It was terror.

“No it doesn’t!” He exploded, almost angry. “Do you understand the gravity of his words, Quera? We’re talking about my younger brother!” He continued heatedly, but then realized the panic in his voice and taking a deep breath, tried to calm down, turning back to Lian’niel.

“Whatever you heard were certainly lies, Lian’niel.” He spoke lowly, though his voice still quivered.

“I appreciate your concern and your diligence, but I trust my brother. He would never do those things. He doesn’t have the spirit or the power to do those things.” He declared, nodding. Lian’niel huffed at that.

“Oh, he has the spirit, alright.” He affirmed, knowledgeable. “And the Council made sure to give him the power. The King is too ill to leave the bed and the first prince has been fighting in the war for ten years. The major noble families are fighting in the war or absent from the Capitol and the Council is composed of old, frightened Eths, who desperately need leadership. Nlie’sieri gives them what they need and tells them what they want to hear. Of course they want him as King. Only one thing stops them. You and your army, Prince Dealen’niel. But Prince Nlie’sieri is not alone. He has managed to convince many young nobles who stayed in Meya to side with him and conspire against you. Lord Iadden, Lessin Midaen’niel and my brother are the only ones who defy them.”

Delaen’niel shook his head, in complete denial. Quera reached him, putting a hand on his shoulder in comfort.

“And you, right?” Edyane asked, also starting to believe the Eth. Like Quera had said: many things made sense now. “How do you got all this? Why didn’t you come to us sooner?”

Lian’niel sighed sadly. The time had come for him to tell the whole truth. He could hide it, but he wouldn’t. Delaen’niel deserved the truth. The Alliance deserved the truth. Besides, Lian’niel had never lied before in his life. No matter the consequences, that was part of the little dignity he had left.

“I…I only discovered the worst of it a month or so ago. But I’m not making excuses. The reason I know all this is because I was one of the conspirators.” He declared, his voice still steady but regretful.

All four, including Delaen’niel looked up at him in shock.

“I can’t believe this!” The Eth prince exclaimed in a weak voice, looking back down.

“Why the change of heart? Why now?” Edyane asked. Lian’niel sighed.

“I’m not proud of it. The most of us who stayed behind follow Nlie’sieri. I’ve…been blind. I was too wrapped around myself to really see what was happening. Only recently have I realized my mistake. The people are oppressed, frightened and suffering. Nlie’sieri is putting Meya in jeopardy with his ambition and search for power…”

Delaen’niel reacted then.

“How do I know you’re not the one with too much ambition and desire for power? You came accusing someone who is not here to defend himself. How do I know you’re not lying for some kind of benefit or payback?” He said, exotic green eyes flashing. Lian’niel looked at his first prince, head on.

“I never lied to you.” He affirmed. “Not even when Ryaen’ne beat me into a pulp for my words. Besides I’m not asking for anything. Just that you consider my words and take some providences to protect the Alliance and our country. As I said before, I’ll take responsibility for my actions.”

Delaen’niel huffed. “You know that conspiracy to treason is punishable with death.” He commented. Lian’niel nodded.

“If you promise me that no repercussions will befall onto my brother or my family, then I’m ready to accept it right now. No trial needed.” And, as always, Lian’niel was being honest.

&&&&&&&

“I don’t trust him.” Alsatia said while pacing back and forth along the other side of the aged root serving as a makeshift table.

Lnorien Erephine, busy sorting out maps, didn’t even bother looking at his friend, but Alsatia knew he was listening all the same. Uncanny as his Lord was, he always did, one way or another...

Their party had been traveling south, through the Sandaer mountains for two days already. They had spent one day searching for the caravan who had escaped the attack before that too, but after finding no convincing trail, their leader had eventually decided they couldn’t afford to waste more time.

They needed to get to the Sacred Wall quickly to warn the army of what was happening in N’Alaera’s lands, and with two wagons, two unconscious men and an Ethen delaying them, they were moving slowly enough.

So, there he was, with Alsatia, trying to find the shortest path to the Sacred Wall in those aged maps of the area. But Alsatia wasn’t exactly helping and Lnorien wasn’t being very lucky so far. The trail which would take less time still took at least three days ridding non-stop. Which they obviously couldn’t do with two injured, unconscious Eths traveling along.

Lnorien had thought of sending a lone rider ahead, but he had discharged that thought quickly after. These mountains had become dangerous lately. And the ice-eyed Eth wasn’t just thinking about the dragons.

Leaving someone behind was impossible for the same reason and he already had a heavy conscience for abandoning the remaining caravan to its luck. So, he was stuck with that path. Slow as it was.

Alsatia, though, managed to have even more worries in his mind. Worries his guard kept constantly pestering him about, but which Lnorien refused to acknowledge. Even if they had their logic. Not that he would admit it to his personal guard.

“We both know the Rarin father and brothers for years and I don’t remember any of them EVER referring an Ethen in the family. And I know you don’t either.” The dark-skinned Eth continued, stopping in front of his Lord. The ice-blue eyed man kept analyzing the maps silently.

Alsatia, annoyed at being persistently ignored, slapped his hands into the wood, dislodging a map from its place. “He’s lying!” He declared.

The Erephine Lord sighed and finally looked up at him.

“I know.” He said simply, bending to snatch the map from the grassy floor. Alsatia fumed.

“I know you know!” He claimed, heatedly. “That’s why I don’t understand why you let him stroll around our camp like a butterfly.” Lnorien sighed again and glared at his personal guard and best friend.

“Alsatia. Until Lord Rarin wakes up, we won’t be able to clarify this. Meanwhile, he’s an Ethen. What do you suggest? That I chain him to a tree?” He asked, shaking his head. The dark-skinned Eth huffed.

“Assuming he really is an Ethen…” He commented dryly, receiving an exasperated frown from his master for his words.

“Come on, not that again.” The Lord General pleaded.

“Yes, that again.” The dark-skinned Eth refuted, crossing his arms in front of his chest. “It could be a Dark Whisperer disguised as an Ethen, meant to infiltrate our army. For all we know, he could have cast a spell on the unconscious Rarin Lord over there, already. Maguenta knows he spends enough time by his side…” The black-haired general shook his head with a sigh.

“It’s understandable if they’re family. The man was mortally wounded, the Ethen ought to be worried. And also, I’ve told you before, Alsatia, that hypothesis of yours is too farfetched.” He said patiently, while returning his gaze to the maps displayed on top of the large root.

“Really? We’ve seen them with so many forms, why is an Ethen any different?” Alsatia Ail’ne pressed on, despite his master’s clear dismissal. “Think on the circumstances in which we found him. No one that didn’t escape was left standing but him. And with barely a scratch.”

“Because he was lucky I happened to notice the Whisperer’s magic. Besides, how would the Death Whisperers know about the Rarin Lord traveling in the caravan?” He enquired, not looking up from the pieces of paper in his hands.

“Did you forget about your ‘traitor in Meya’ theory?” Alsatia asked, making a point. The Erephine Lord glanced briefly at his personal knight, considering his words. He had no way to argue that, but it still didn’t make sense to him.

“A Whisperer would have better chances to infiltrate our armies as an Eth.” He commented quietly, instead. His dark-skinned guard arched an eyebrow in disbelief.

“Oh, is that so?” He confronted, sarcastic. “That supposed Ethen is spoiled by every knight here but me. He even gets himself a nice tent with furs, while we all sleep outdoors on the hard floor. Even you, a High Lord and General.”

Lnorien glared up sharply at his indignant friend then. Alsatia huffed, both extremely pissed off at his master for his actions and sorry for his own indiscretion.

“Hiding your identity will matter little once we reach the army.” He defended himself. Lnorien sighed, but remained silent, turning his eyes to the maps again. He couldn’t exactly deny the veracity of his friend’s statement.

“Anyway, look at him.” Alsatia continued, forcefully trying to get his thoughts across to his Lord. “Have you ever seen someone so enchanting?” He enquired, looking in the direction of the Ethen who was near the injured, a good distance away from them.

The Erephine Lord sensed that the other Eth’s question had been somewhat rhetorical, but he still wasn’t able to resist a glance in the same direction.

The beautiful golden-haired Ethen was helping Ylrin’ne changing the bandages on the injured. It was a habit of his to help with the knights’ chores when they set up for the night. And Lnorien had to admit, he was a good help more often than not. His curative abilities were particularly useful on the injured.

From what he could tell in such a short amount of time, Lnorien could say that Ethen was a generous and caring type, but he also had a kind of fierceness and determination to him that was rarely found in both Ethen and Eth. Traits that made him enchanting in more ways than just physical.

But even on that last aspect, he was nothing less than idyllic. Lovely beyond all things the Lord General had ever witnessed.

The borrowed cloths he was wearing, too loose for his smaller frame, did little to disguise the attractive features of his body or the creamy look to his skin. And his long hair, loosely tied in a high ponytail to keep it from being a hindrance, was as gold and shiny as the metal it faked. The flames from the fire a few feet away from the Ethen enhanced its color even further, making its curls stand out with brilliance in the dark ambience of the dusk.

It was impossible for that Ethen to pass unnoticed. His own men, respectable warriors as they were, couldn’t keep their eyes to themselves when he was around. They also eventually ended up spoiling him, unconsciously in most cases, like Alsatia had rightfully claimed.

But Lnorien couldn’t exactly reprimand them for it. As long as they weren’t being abusive to said Ethen and it didn’t affect their duties, he would say nothing to them about their slight slips in composure. For he knew exactly how they felt. Though he guessed he was somewhat biased.

To men sick of the horrors of war, that Ethen was like a Seraph, a blessing from Maguenta. To know they had been fighting so that creatures like him remained free and happy, was all the motivation they needed to go on.

Lnorien, however, had other reasons for spoiling that Ethen. The truth was that he reminded him of his own betrothed. His golden locks, but especially those wild, gallant, sapphire blue eyes were exactly like he remembered Midaen’niel’s. Even the Ethen’s expressions and the graceful way he spoke and moved were everything like he recalled his intended’s.

What was absurd, of course. His Promised one was a long way from there. Safe and sound in the Capitol of Meya, surrounded by comfort in his family’s palace. Far away from the horrors of the war and from the Death whisperers.

But, still, this Ethen was a lot like him. That or the general’s mind was playing tricks on him. He hadn’t seen his betrothed since the war had begun and even before, he had only glanced at the boy from afar, never presenting himself, always afraid of the boy’s disappointment. He had no idea how the child had grown up.

Rumors said he was the loveliest of all Ethen alive, but Lnorien had a hard time believing someone more perfect than the dusty Ethen in front of him actually existed.

Was it possible that this kind of breathtaking beauty was something common in Ethen? It was probably true. All the Ethen he had met had been incredibly stunning.

“He is indeed beautiful, but that is not rare for an Ethen.” He opted to say to his guard, removing his gaze from the Ethen with difficulty. Alsatia frowned at his master.

“I’ve seen Ethen before.” The dark-skinned Eth started. “Not many I must admit, but I’ve seen enough. Prince Nareill, for instance. He was the most perfect thing I have ever put my eyes on, and yet, he loses to this Ethen by points. He doesn’t even compare. This one’s either a creation of Iairra or of Maguenta. Too beautiful to be mortal.”

Lnorien sighed. “I don’t believe in Maguenta.” He said, realizing his mistake too late. Glancing at his personal guard, he narrowed his ice eyes at the man’s expected smirk.

“Exactly.” The dark-skinned Eth said simply, his smirk not affected in the least by the glare directed at him. The general sighed again.

“Alsatia, my intuition tells me we ought to trust that Ethen. My intuition has never failed me before.” He claimed. The other knight nodded in acknowledgement.

“Yes, and in normal circumstances, those words of yours would be more than enough to shut me up.” He verbally agreed.

“This time, however,” The knight continued. “I am afraid that your intuition is being led by your senses and that boy’s resemblances to your betrothed.”

The ice eyed general huffed in frustration. “That is not obscuring my judgment, Alsatia. By Maguenta, I’ve never regretted something so bad than telling you that.”

The dark-skinned knight shrugged, looking at his master anxiously.

“I’m sorry.” He apologized. “It’s just all these years, you have been completely committed to Prince Midaen’niel. Simply unable to even look at any other Ethen, Eth or human. By Maguenta, you were so focused and worried about what he would think of you that you couldn’t get it up the day of your coming of age.”

The Lord General smacked his left hand on his forehead, effectively hiding his utter embarrassment. That was not something he was proud of. And almost eleven years after the incident and Alsatia still brought that up. He was never going to live it down.

“Another thing I regret telling you…” he murmured, uncomfortable. Alsatia dismissed it with a wave of his hand and a smirk on his lips.

“Oh please, everyone knows you’re still a virgin. If you ask me, you don’t know what you’re missing…” He affirmed, sure of what he was saying. The Erephine Lord looked at him with narrowed eyes, even though his guard’s words were true. The knight shrugged, nonchalant, still grinning.

Lnorien sighed and finally letting go of the maps, crossed his arms in front of his chest. “Great, noted. Can we change the subject?” He asked, trying to seem imposing.

With his tall stature and ice eyes, he usually was very good at that. Alsatia, however, was older than him and had known him since their childhood. He had created immunity.

“Fine.” He said, becoming serious again. “Just, please be careful. I’ve seen the way you eye this Ethen. Don’t let the features he shares with Lessin Midaen’niel fool you. I’ll concede that he may not be a Death Whisperer, but if he’s really an Ethen, then he’s lying for a reason. For all we know, he may be running away from home to be with some man. And we also know how these stories usually end. Let’s not get mixed up in them.”

The general nodded in agreement. He couldn’t quite rebut his knight’s wise words.

“I’ll be alert.” He gave in. “Good for you?”

Alsatia stared at him for a moment and Lnorien had the feeling the man wasn’t still satisfied with his promise. Eventually the Eth shrugged and sighed.

“I’ll be too, just in case.” He said, stealing a glance in the direction of the injured where Ylrin’ne and the Ethen were finishing their task. “I don’t like that Ethen. He puts on airs.” He concluded, scrunching his nose. Then he eyed his master who was folding the maps, having giving up on finding another path through them.

Deciding this was as good a time as another and taking advantage of their current conditions, he dared to approach another difficult subject with his master. A theme he had wanted to speak to him about for quite some time now. The appearance of this Ethen gave him a good starting point and he wasn’t about to lose the opportunity.

“By the way, speaking of Lessin who put on airs, about Prince Midaen’niel,…” He started. His master’s reaction was the expected one.

The Erephine Lord looked at his best friend in a mix of disbelief and exasperation. “By Maguenta, Alsatia, did you take the evening to annoy me?” He asked, infuriated. “Don’t you have any chores to do? We leave at dawn.”

The dark-skinned knight shook his head, the only sign he had heard his Lord. “It’s just another thing that baffles me about you. When do you plan on meeting your betrothed, hmm?”

The black-haired general unconsciously passed a hand through the stubble that was growing untamed on his face for days now.

“In case you haven’t noticed, I’ve been busy fighting a war.” He said bitterly, obviously diverting the subject. His personal guard didn’t let himself be fooled.

“That’s true enough. But he’s two years into marrying age, already.” He affirmed cautiously. Upon the lack of response from his master, he decided to prod a little further.

“He was eleven the last time you saw him and you hid yourself so that he could not see you. It’s amazing how you can face a red dragon bare-handed, a High Wizard with no hint of fear in you… and you’re terrified of meeting a single Ethen.” He continued, watching his master intently. He hated the look of uncertainty that flashed through his Lord’s eyes at his words.

Lnorien took his time to answer, but when he did, it was preceded by a deep sigh and his words sounded old and lifeless.

“Alsatia, Ethen are people. Have you ever stopped to think for a moment how Lessin Midaen’niel must feel about all this? He’s one of the most beautiful Ethen in the world and he’s been surrounded by beautiful things and handsome men like Ryaen’ne all his life. He surely won’t want to marry a man like me.” The guard huffed at that, angry at his master’s depreciation regarding his own self.

“It’s not a question of wanting or not. You two have a commitment.” He remarked. Lnorien gazed intensely at him.

“Yes,” he stated, firm and resolute. “A commitment I will honor, according to his wishes. Our betrothal was planned by me, his brother and his parents. Lessin Midaen’niel had no say in it at the time. But, in the end, he’s the one sharing his life with me. I will not force him to marry someone he does not want to. You know how much I adore him and you know I don’t intend on giving up on him easily. Still, even if I don’t expect him to love me like I love him, I do want him to care at least a little, to feel proud of me. I have to return home victorious. I have to be worthy of him. Why can’t you all understand that?” He concluded, with furrowed brows and opening his fists harshly in raw frustration.

Alsatia looked at his master sadly, and sighed.

“Because you are not the scrawny kid some stupid boys made fun of anymore, my Lord. You are the Lord General. A name which conveys fear to our enemies and instills courage to our men. You are a symbol of dedication, strength and fearless motivation to all of us. You have thousands of men, Eth and human, following you to the Underworld and back with a single word. Everyone who knows you, feels compelled and is proud to serve under your command. We admire and we love you. We would die for you! Why would an Ethen feel any different? If you ask me, and most of the army I believe, it’s not you who have to prove your worth to him. It’s the other way around.” He finished, fierceness and utter faithfulness patent in his sincere words.

Always astonished before his best friend’s devotion, but not exactly knowing how to answer or repay that, especially when he didn’t exactly agree with the man’s point of view, the Lord General simply smiled in gratitude.

“Alsatia, I-” He started, awkward. His guard interrupted him with a raised hand.

“I know.” He said quietly, understanding well what his master’s thoughts were, regarding that subject. “It just pains me that you think so little of yourself. And don’t you forget that Ryaen’ne agreed with me. He chose you to marry his brother, despite your father and your uncle.”

Lnorien looked down sadly at the mention of their deceased friend.

“That’s why I will not let him down.” He promised with renewed vigor. “If I marry Lessin Midaen’niel and die in the war, I will only bring more misery to that family. I don’t know how, but we will win this war. I promise you. For all who have fallen and for all those who are waiting our victorious return.”

&&&&&&&

Midaen’niel finished the bandage on Yari’niel’s arm and sat down beside the unconscious man. The Eth had been close to death two days before, but now, due to the expert abilities of the men that had saved them, the worst of his injuries were already healed. However, he had yet to awaken and that was worrying the Ethen.

“He’s still unconscious only due to the effects of so much healing magic being taken by his body at once. He’ll probably remain like that for some more days.” The middle-aged Eth, who was cleaning the wounds of another fallen warrior next to them, commented softly, guessing the Ethen’s thoughts.

Midaen’niel glanced at him. “Will they really be okay?” He asked. The grizzled man turned to him and smiled reassuringly.

“Don’t worry, Milessin. The worst has passed. They’re going to be hopping around with swords in their hands before you know it.” He said, with a scoff. The Ethen smiled with sympathy for the aged Eth.

“You seem like a man who has seen it before.” He affirmed. The Eth huffed.

“Too many times, I’m afraid.” He sighed, but then looked at the golden-haired Ethen and smirked, jokingly. “I’m kind of old.”

Midaen’niel chuckled, amused. “Well, you don’t look that old.” He commented. The Eth bowed his head in thanks with a simple smile and continued his task.

The Ethen watched him for a moment, lost in thought. To his surprise, the men who had saved them and defeated the wizards had been little more than a handful. Seven, to be exact. Still, all of them were clearly expert in combat and magic. Knowledgeable in the ways of the Wizards and in their poisons.

The discipline of the military was present in their manners and actions too, so Midaen’niel had started to think they were probably warriors returning from the war, who had simply taken that passageway across the mountains. Whatever they were, though, they were still a blessing from Maguenta.

Midaen’niel had no complaints about the Eth warriors. They were generally polite with him and some of them: this old man called Ylrin’ne and the younger one who guarded him, named Sayn, were even friendly and nice. He felt really safe and at ease around them. Only the dark-skinned one, Alsatia, looked at him strangely sometimes, with suspicion in his manners, but he was never impolite and Midaen’niel was okay with it as long as the man behaved properly.

So, the Ethen had an idea where those warriors had come from. However, he was still at a loss as to where they were headed. He had opted to follow them without having much of a choice, but the fact was that he knew little about their whereabouts. They didn’t share their plans with him.

Still, he hadn’t forgotten that he needed to warn the armies about Nlie’sieri and the attack to N’Alaera’s Capitol. Trusting that Maguenta had sent these warriors to aid him in his quest, he believed they most likely knew how to find the generals of the Alliance.

It was highly probable that the army had started disbanding already, but Midaen’niel still hoped to gather many warriors to defend N’Alaera. He had to get help from these men, though. And doing that without revealing his true identity was proving to be a very difficult task. But one which he had to attempt. For the Alliance’s sake.

He decided to try his luck once more with Ylrin’ne, seeing as the Eth seemed to be in a good mood today.

“So, are we still going south, tomorrow?” He asked, quietly, testing the waters. The grizzled man looked at him sideways, with a witty expression in his face. With a chuckle, he retorted.

“I’ve told you before: I’m not allowed to answer your questions regarding our whereabouts, Milessin. You should ask our leader.” Midaen’niel frowned, but he was already expecting that reply. It had been a long shot. Every Eth in that party always told him the same thing. His questions would only be answered by the handsome man with the attractive body and piercing ice-blue eyes. Their leader. The man they followed blindly and who had saved him. The strongest and more powerful of those seven, amazing, warriors.

Midaen’niel had yet to find out his name. Everybody just called him: the leader. Effectively, he was the only one Midaen’niel hadn’t asked for information yet. Well, him and the dark-skinned Eth who was always with him, but for different motives. He didn’t like the latter. That was the reason why he never went to him. With the leader the matter was another altogether.

“He always seems to be busy. I’m afraid of being in his way.” He commented, though that was not the truth at all. Ylrin’ne turned to him with an all-knowing smile.

“You’re not a good liar, Milessin. What do you find more intimidating? Hs strength or his good looks?” He asked simply. Midaen’niel eyed him, abashed.

“I…I don’t…” He stuttered. The grizzled Eth chuckled, good-humored.

“I’m old, child, not blind.” He affirmed. “And I’ve seen the way you gaze at him.”

Midaen’niel blushed. “Well, I can’t deny that he IS good-looking.” He confirmed. Ylrin’ne arched his eyebrows and eyed him with a mischievous smirk.

“Or strong.” The Ethen added quickly under the stare. The man chuckled and shook his head as if used to similar antics. Then he became serious.

“He also has a betrothed he’s utterly faithful to, my child.” He mentioned with a candid smile. Midaen’niel looked up at the grizzled man, surprised and momentarily silenced. He had spent the last two days thinking of the man and, strangely, the thought that he might be committed to an Ethen hadn’t even crossed his mind. A sudden sadness overcame him.

“Either way, you look too troubled, sometimes. If you need something we can’t provide, you ought to go talk to him, Milessin.” The old Eth advised. “Be honest and you’ll realize there’s no one else in the world you can trust more. He’s usually very understanding.” Midaen’niel sighed.

“When do you think I should approach him?” He asked. Ylrin’ne pointed his chin to the left.

“Now is a good time, while the food is not served. He doesn’t appear to be busy and there’s still some light. You won’t have to talk by the fire with everyone listening in.” The golden-haired Ethen turned to look in the direction the Eth had pointed to find a lone man sitting next to an old tree in the distance. Rising from his place on the floor, Midaen’niel nodded.

“I’ll go then. Thank you.” The elder man smiled and nodded.

“Good luck, Milessin.”

&&&&&&&

The golden-haired Ethen walked lightly over the forest ground, careful not to trip over the many roots in his path. As he looked up at the aged tree the leader was sitting against, he stopped in his tracks, his heart beating wildly in his chest.

The last rays of sunset bathed the man, warm colors illuminating his strong features and black hair. For the first time, the golden-haired Ethen realized the man’s hair had a wavy feeling to it, something not easily noticed due to it being so short.

He had adopted a leaning position against the tree, one leg stretched in front of him while the other was bent. His arms rested on this bent knee, the back of his bare right hand near his lips. He was looking down, a tender expression on his face, apparently lost in thought.

Unconsciously posing like a statue or a knight from Meya’s fairytales, even filthy from riding all day and all, he was definitely one of the most striking men Midaen’niel had ever seen.

A second too late, the Ethen discerned the design tattooed on the hand the Eth warrior had near his lips. He couldn’t see it well, due to the distance, but now he knew what the man was so lost thinking about. The leader’s mind was with his betrothed, far away from there.

Smiling bitterly to himself, for a single moment, Midaen’niel wondered if his own betrothed ever thought of him like that. Lost in memories. With that loving expression on his face…Probably not.

With a feeling of loss, Midaen’niel approached the man. The warrior noticed him before he could get close enough to see the marking in his hand. Standing to face him, he expertly hid his hand inside a riding glove.

“Do you need something, Milessin?” he asked with his rough and warm baritone. Midaen’niel just loved the way the Eth language sounded in his southern accented voice. Taking a deep breath, the golden-haired Ethen looked up into his crystal eyes.

“I haven’t been completely honest with you.” He declared, making up his mind. The man arched his eyebrows and crossed his long arms in front of his chest.

“Oh?” He stated with a knowing smirk. A very sexy knowing smirk.

“Sir Ylrin’ne advised me to come to you. He said I should trust you. That you can be very understanding.” He clarified, trying to focus on his own words rather than on the male glory in front of him. He wasn’t completely successful, but he managed well.

“I have my days. Go ahead.” The leader said, shrugging. Midaen’niel decided to jump head on with his request.

“I need to find the armies of the Alliance.” The Eth arched his eyebrows, taken aback. He was clearly not expecting that.

“What for?” He asked, narrowing his eyes, suspicious. The golden-haired Ethen sighed.

“I was given a mission: I have an important message to relay to His highness, Prince Delaen’niel. That’s why I and my cousin were traveling to join the Eth training camp. So that we could reach the army.” He explained, praying the man would be content with just that.

Midaen’niel had no such luck. The ice-eyed Eth raised a hand to his chin in thought for a few seconds, still apprehensive.

“I see.” He said. “Who’s it from? You can give the message to me. I’ll act accordingly.” He offered. Midaen’niel damned him.

“I still don’t trust you that much.” He retorted frankly. “I will only give it to Prince Delaen’niel. Those were my orders.” He claimed, hiding behind the false pretense that he was a simple messenger. The Eth considered his reply for a few seconds once again.

“Very well. Do you have something: letters, an object, anything that can make me believe what you’re saying?” He finally asked. Midaen’niel thought immediately of Lnora and its cargo of inestimable value: the Bow of Lvek’kia. He didn’t have to fake the grief that assailed his soul at his next words.

“I had, but they disappeared in the attack along with my horse. Still, if you take me there, I’ll have people in the army who can vouch for me.” He declared. Prince Delaen’niel would certainly recognize him, as would the knights who had worked for his family for years, he was sure.

The Eth sighed, scratching his short, black hair. Midaen’niel could comprehend him a little. It was the word of an unknown Ethen against a lot of suspicious events. He could see the man was making an effort to believe him, though.

“I see.” He started, holding up his hands. “Well, let’s presume you’re telling me the truth. You know I’m a warrior Eth and you still don’t trust me.” He observed. Midaen’niel nodded. “Am I right to assume this message of yours is related to what’s happening in N’Alaera?” He asked, looking Midaen’niel straight in the eye.

The golden-haired Ethen recognized that question as a final test. He didn’t know what the man wanted him to answer, but he had nothing else to offer him other than the truth. He hoped it would be enough.

“If you mean the presence of Death Whisperers there, yes, it’s related to that.” He replied, with a frown. The Eth gazed at him intently for a long time and Midaen’niel held that stare bravely. The Ethen just hoped he hadn’t made a mistake in trusting that Eth. Still, in the present situation, he had no other choice. He had to have some faith. After a while, the man let go of his scrutiny and nodded.

“Okay, I decided to believe you.” He affirmed. Midaen’niel looked up at the ice-eyed man, surprised.

“That means you’ll take me there?” He asked, afraid he had heard wrong. The man simply shrugged.

“We’re warriors from the Alliance’s army. We’re heading there already.” He said. Midaen’niel’s sapphire-blue eyes widened, hopeful.

“You said the Alliance’s army? That means the armies have not disbanded, yet?” It couldn’t be. If that was so, then N’Alaera would be saved. They would be there in time to stop the worst from happening.

The man shook his head. “No. And I don’t think they will anytime soon.”

Midaen’niel jumped into the man’s arms in happiness. After all he had been through in the last days: the fear for his life, the worry for Yari’niel, the worry for the Alliance, the suspicion regarding his saviors,…After all that, everything was turning out okay. His faith had paid off.

Not aware of his actions, Midaen’niel cried for a long time in the stunned Eth’s chest, wetting the man’s shirt with his tears of relief while being comforted by the strong heartbeat underneath his ears and the heat of the man’s hands on his shoulders.

“Thank you.” He whispered softly. Being so near him, the leader had no difficulties hearing his words.

“You’re welcome…I guess.” He replied, whispering as well.

&&&&&&&

Lnorien Erephine damned his luck. Of all the beasts to appear in front of them while they hunted, it had to be that giant centipede monster. He looked at himself, shook his arms forcefully and damned his luck again.

Another feral, gruesome beast would’ve been best. Hell, even a mountain dragon would’ve been preferable to that nasty insect. Those, he could deal with, without ending up completely covered in green, sticky goo.

Alsatia, who shared his sorry state, complained from behind him as he crossed a rather narrow path between two trees and became momentarily stuck to one of their lower branches by a shoulder.

Lnorien turned to him, facing a very infuriated Eth, trying to free himself. The damn substance was strong. Which was one of the reasons they looked like monsters instead of men. Every grain of sand or leaf which happened to fly around them ended up glued to their clothes, hair or skin. It was bothersome, to say the least.

“Are you okay?” He asked. The older Eth tore his short sleeve off, finally releasing himself and glared at him.

“Do I look like I’m okay?!” He retorted, angry, grabbing the bag containing their dinner: a wild boar they had killed before encountering the gooey insect. The Lord General didn’t bother with a reply and continued throughout the virgin forest, cutting their path through gigantic bushes with one of his Nla’dryea blades.

As they approached the main road through the mountains, Lnorien stopped to look to the south. In the distance, the majestic Sacred Wall already made itself known, imposing in the evening dusk, indicating the southern limits of N’Alaera.

Alsatia jumped to the main road, shaking himself like a dog, in a vain attempt to get rid of some of the goo. To his utter dismay, he was unsuccessful. Huffing, he turned to his master, noticing where the ice-eyed man was looking.

“Just another day of travelling. Tomorrow, my friend, we’ll be dinning with rest of the army.” He commented, happily.

Lnorien nodded. Against all expectations, they had managed to travel quickly through the mountain paths, without any major incidents happening, and would probably reach the army almost two days ahead of his planning.

Things appeared to be running smoothly for them in other aspects, too. The three injured men they had brought with them were still unconscious, but according to Yl’rin’ne, that was also to be expected and they were healing well. His Ethen guest was behaving as well, making no more inconvenient questions since the conversation they had had three days before.

The Lord General was still a little wary, but after the display of relief and happiness he had witnessed in the Ethen that day, Lnorien didn’t thought of him as someone that suspicious anymore (to Alsatia’s continuous huffing).

Of course, he knew the Ethen was still hiding things from him, but considering the circumstances, he kind of understood why he was doing so. If he really was a messenger traveling to warn the army about the Eth treason responsible for N’Alaera being under attack, then he was right in being distrustful of unknown Eths. And it made sense. It was a good plan. No one would ever think of an Ethen for the task. No one would suspect he was traveling with such intentions.

Anyway, whatever news he brought and from whom, tomorrow, as soon they reached the army, things would be clarified.

“And it’s about time.” He said, walking in the direction of the smoke signaling their camp, which was stationed a few feet ahead in a glade near the main road.

The dark-skinned man agreed. “Oh yeah. Tomorrow, I won’t have to hunt dinner anymore. Tomorrow, my underlings will be the ones filled with sticky goo. And I’m going to laugh at them. And you’ll shut your mouth about today. Oh yeah!” He growled, moving with fast steps towards their camp.

“Yes.” Lnorien replied with an amused smirk. “Good thing we’re camped close to a mountain stream, because you definitely need a bath. You’re filled with goo and worse: you stink.”

Alsatia didn’t bother turning around. “Yeah, like you’re so much better than me. Geez, you get one Ethen falling into your arms and you think yourself the king of the world.” He rejoined, with a grin of his own. Lnorien huffed.

“It’s been three days, Alsatia. When are you going to stop those remarks?” He grunted, as they entered the camp. The dark-skinned Eth simply shrugged.

“When something better comes up. Besides, it’s payback for not listening to me.” He concluded, dumping their game next to the fire where Ylrin’ne was slowly stirring the contents of a steaming pot.

Lnorien rolled his eyes at the same time the elder Eth looked up at the two. Dropping his spoon in shock at the sight of the two younger men, he exclaimed, disgusted.

“Ugh! What the heck happened to you two?”

Alsatia shrugged. “A giant centipede decided we needed a goo bath. It’s dead now, by the way.”

“Well, I think you need a water bath. You might get sick or something. I’ll take care of the game you brought. Go wash yourselves! You’re not getting anywhere near supper like that.” The grizzled, elder Eth retorted, shooing them.

The two men moved away from the camp fire quickly, grinning, under the watchful gaze of their elder.

“Is it just me or is Ylrin’ne acting more and more like a mother hen with us?” Alsatia asked, when said Eth was too far behind already and couldn’t hear them. Lnorien shrugged.

“He was always like that.” He stated, shrugging.

Alsatia shook his head. “Nah. It’s getting worse, I tell ya. Must be the age.” The Lord General smirked.

“We’re getting older too, you know.” He commented. The dark-skinned warrior grinned and glanced at his lord with dark eyes filled with mischief.

“Well, at least I’m not a virgin, anymore.” He insinuated. Lnorien merely glared at him. The man laughed, good-humored, immune to the icy stare. “I’m going to get some clothes for us. Meet you in the stream.”

Lnorien watched his personal knight and best friend walk away in the direction of their horses with narrowed eyes for a moment. Alsatia was hopeless. Growling to himself, he turned around and entered the woods separating their camp from the small stream of water situated deeper in the forest.

Reaching the stream sooner than expected, he marveled at its clear waters. Suddenly, the idea of a bath after a hot day of traveling and an extenuating hunt sounded even better than it had a few minutes ago.

Discharging his many weapons quickly, he proceeded to the more difficult task of removing his sticky clothes. With annoyance, he realized that he had to tear them off in order to take them off. When he finally got naked, there was little left of his previous garments.

He spent a second looking at his ruined clothes, morose, but then shrugged and dived in the clear waters. The cool liquid gave him an immediate, intense feeling of relaxation, but the sticky impression on his skin remained. Grabbing some leaves from the waterside, he started rubbing his body and his hair. Finishing quicker than expected, he discharged the green leaves and dove into the water again.

Swimming up stream, underwater, Lnorien marveled at the sensation of freedom and freshness the cool water gave him. He didn’t want to go back to the surface, but eventually even he had to breathe.

Resurfacing with a loud gasp, he almost missed the other gasp behind him. Turning around, he met the shocked sapphire blue eyes of the Ethen travelling with them.

The beautiful blond was sitting by the waterside, with a basin of cloths next to him, and had a wet cloth in his hand, probably to wash his face and neck, seeing as only those parts of his body were wet. Not that Lnorien could actually see the rest of the Ethen’s body as he was fully clothed.

Unlike Lnorien who was completely naked. Still, in the presence of the attractive blond, he didn’t even remember that. The shiny, long, golden locks and the widened blue eyes were kind of distracting. The fact that he was worried that he had scared the Ethen was not helping his memory either.

“It’s only me. Don’t be afraid.” He said to the blond, getting out of the stream into the forest ground to reassure him.

The Ethen blushed profusely as the black-haired Eth stood on his feet in front of him, his eyes widening further. His mouth slightly opened, he gazed at the man wordless. The cloth he had been holding fell from his grasp and he didn’t even notice. Meanwhile his blush kept intensifying further.

Worried, Lnorien called to him. “Milessin.”

The blond startled and looked at him in the eye.

“Oh…er…I…I…” He stuttered, completely breathless. Alsatia’s voice in the distance interrupted him.

“There you are!” The dark-skinned Eth exclaimed, as he neared them, a bag in his hand. Noticing the Ethen a moment too late, he stopped, frowning and taking in, first, the breathless state of the blond and later the worried expression in his lord’s face. Looking from one to the other, he remained silent.

However, the Ethen reacted then, hastily grabbing his things. “I…I’m s…sorry. I…I finished already. I’m…going back now. Excuse me!” He stuttered, getting up as quick as lightening and running away from there as fast as he could, disappearing through the forest in the direction of the camp.

Alsatia looked up at his master’s confused face and just couldn’t help it. He barked out laughing. Lnorien crossed his arms in front of his chest and glared at him.

“Shut up. I think I scared him.” He said bitterly. Alsatia nodded.

“Of course you did. You’re completely naked, man!” He explained, between two fits of laughter. Lnorien looked at him surprised and then at himself.

“Oh.” He replied eloquently. Alsatia finally stopped laughing, but couldn’t keep the grin off his face.

“I’m happy to see you’re starting to act your age. But, you know, it usually works better when your partner is naked, too.” Alsatia teased, patting his lord in the shoulder. The Lord General merely narrowed his eyes at the other warrior. The latter grinned.

“You know that something better I was talking about earlier? This is definitely it!” He uttered, wiping laughing tears from his eyes.

&&&&&&&

Midaen’niel did his best to maintain his composure all the way to his tent, adjusting the cloths he had taken with him in front of his lap the best he could while trying to appear content and relaxed after his supposed washing, even if his whole body was shaking.

Reaching his tent without incidents, for the Eths he passed by were too busy with their chores to give him the time of the day, he nodded his thanks to the young Eth who sat quietly next to it, waiting for him.

His guardian smiled politely at him, happy that the Ethen had returned after washing himself like he had promised.

Smiling quickly in return, Midaen’niel entered the tent even faster, careful so the Eth wouldn’t be able to notice the sorry state he was in.

After having fastened the tent’s entrance with agile fingers and double-checked his privacy, the golden-haired Ethen released the items in his arms haphazardly on the floor and hurried onto the furs serving as his bed.

With a suffering sigh, he unlaced his pants to reveal the red, turgid flesh inside. Looking at himself, Midaen’niel became horrified with his body’s desires.

Flushing even further in embarrassment, he tried to stop himself from doing what his body wanted, lacing his pants again, despite the excruciating need to touch himself.

He knew what was happening, of course, he was not that innocent. He was experiencing lust. For the first time, he was feeling such immense lust, that he was unable to control his body’s reactions. And the one at fault was that mysterious, cold man.

He had never felt like that before. He had never felt that excited, had never felt that aroused for someone. No one.

The desperate need to touch that man’s body, to taste his skin, to look at him in ecstasy, to be possessed by him…it was almost painful and something so new, Midaen’niel had no idea how to refrain it. He had never wanted anything in his life like he wanted that man now.

Shaking his head in stubbornness, Midaen’niel tried to put the handsome Eth out of his mind. This couldn’t possibly be acceptable. He had his betrothed. He had Yari’niel, who was injured and unconscious few feet away from there.

However, fueled by the scene he had just witnessed in the stream, his mind betrayed him by supplying the perfect arousing images and his imagination went wild before he could do anything about it.

With his eyes closed, he remembered how the beads of water glistened in the man’s golden, flawless skin, running along the firm planes of his strong chest, and over the hard abs. Then shamelessly traveling towards his groin, only to hide behind the impressive manhood. Midaen’niel gulped at the memory. Long, thick and imposing. Like the man it belonged to.

The Ethen licked his swollen lips at the mental image, picturing himself licking that long member instead. From bottom to top, making the organ hard, angry red and even bigger just with his tongue and lips, happily sucking the precome it would surely flow from the slit.

His right hand unconsciously went to his mouth and he sucked at his fingers in abandon, mimicking what he would like to do to the man’s cock.

His mind depicted an interesting image of said man with his ice eyes narrowed and glazed in pleasure, thin lips letting out low grunts in that rough, sexy voice of his while the perfect muscles all over his manly body contracted in a demand for more.

Midaen’niel whimpered in frustration and forgetting everything else, finally gave up fully to his fantasies. In an angry move, the Ethen took off his pants and tunic, lying down naked on the furs.

He imagined himself laying down on top of that large body instead, the man’s velvety skin surrounding him everywhere and his ass sitting on the man’s lap, the Eth’s stiff cock hot and pulsing between the Ethen’s buttocks. The Eth’s long arms would constrain him and his strong, rough hands would travel all over his own lighter body.

Shuddering, Midaen’niel caressed a nipple into hardness with his wet fingers, like the tall man did in his fantasy while his left hand stroke his weeping penis softly.

“Yes.” He said quietly, humming with pleasure.

His hand moved faster over his erection and the Ethen opened his legs wider, while rubbing his ass roughly on the bed.

With a small whimper, he imagined the strong Eth licking his neck, biting mercilessly on his earlobe, madly thrusting his thick cock along his buttocks as he growled in his ear, his hands everywhere on his body.

“More,” Midaen’niel pleaded. “more, please!” It wasn’t enough. He needed more.

Sobbing, Midaen’niel rubbed harder against himself, his fingers returning to his mouth. Sucking and licking them for a moment while shaking his ass harder against the furs, he let them travel along his body next, reveling in the cold wetness they brought against his hot skin.

Stroking his penis even harder, he guided his other hand past the slick member, his fingers emerging between his buttocks.

He let himself wait for it, while spreading his shaking legs even further, rubbing his wet fingers over the rim of his hole.

Crying in pleasure, he let one finger inside, thrusting slowly as his other thumb stroke the slick head of his penis. Desperately needing something thicker, he then added another finger, thrusting firmly, imagining the man’s long fingers inside his ass instead of his own.

The man was rough in his caresses, his fingers going in an out in a maddening rhythm, making Midaen’niel crazy with pleasure. Tears of ecstasy flowed from the Ethen’s eyes as he bit his lips to refrain from crying out loud.

The pace picked up, his cock ready to burst as he inserted a third finger in his ass. In and out. In and out…

Whimpering while closing his teary eyes, Midaen’niel pictured then the Eth penetrating him with his hard cock. The man’s growl of satisfaction was almost real in his ears.

And it was too much. With a long cry, Midaen’niel came, his climax hitting him so furiously his body kept shaking for several minutes afterwards.

After some time, the Ethen finally managed to calm his heart and breathe easily. He pulled a cover on top of himself, more to hide his face than due to the cold.

He felt so ashamed. How could he feel so much pleasure while thinking of someone who was already committed to another?

Sure, the man was everything Midaen’niel had dreamed of. Strong, chivalrous, intelligent, kind and immensely attractive. He was drawn to the man. To his ways, to his body, to the mystery surrounding him. To everything about him.

And it irritated him to no end. This was not how he had wanted to fall in love with someone. Not on first sight. Not with a man he knew nothing about and who was obviously too committed to his own betrothed to give him a second glance, let alone consider...

Midaen’niel startled at his own thoughts. What was he thinking? Fall in love? He couldn’t have fallen in love, could he? His heart beating fast, the Ethen realized that only that man was occupying his thoughts lately. Even when he was with Yari’niel, it was almost out of obligation to the Eth who had risked everything for him.

He cared for Yari’niel, of course. He loved him, but it was a brotherly love, a friends’ thing, and that was why he had been disgusted with his advances but still able to endure them.

It was different with this man. With the leader of these warriors. If this Eth would want him, Midaen’niel was sure he would still be scared, but he would be also completely willing. He would be eager even, to be possessed, to be loved by him.

By Maguenta, it was not just lust. Midaen’niel admired not only his body, but his personality too. His strength, his understanding. He had never had these feelings for anyone else before. Not for his betrothed and certainly not for Yari’niel.

Pulling the cover tighter around him, Midaen’niel cried in misery and envy. What a lucky Ethen, that man’s betrothed, was. Not only was he awarded a gorgeous Eth to be his husband, he also had an utterly faithful one.

As he thought that, Midaen’niel felt guilty. He silently prayed that the Ethen promised to that man was someone faithful and worthy of him and not an Ethen like Midaen’niel, who besides giving himself to the first who had dispensed him a little attention, had also fallen in love with yet another Eth.

Vowing that he would forget this love which had grown unwanted, Midaen’niel promised himself that he would become someone honored and better. He would hear his betrothed explanations for his absence and Nareill’s rumors. He would tell him his own wrongs. And then they could both start anew and become true partners for life, like his parents had been.

After all, his betrothed was the infamous ‘Lord General’, hero of the Alliance. He had to be an amazing Eth also, right? Who knew? Perhaps someone out there was thinking he was a lucky Ethen, too.

Tbc…


Ending notes: Hope you enjoyed it. See you in a month or so.