Legends of Kepler: Age of Erin

CHAPTER I: DUCHESS OF THE FORESTS (6)

 CHAPTER I: DUCHESS OF THE FORESTS (6)

"He was dressed in white," says Count Veredic. “We were in Edoer; the gates of the great wall had opened. I already seen him from afar, upon this peach tree. I was the first in the order, so I walk in the cold greens, and decided not to pay attention to the kid. He saw me leading the army, and turns his back on us. Takes out a fishing pole, put a bait on it, and threw it from the branches, towards a nearby bush."

"What do you think you're doing?" asked Veredic.

"Don't you recognize me, elf?" replied the young kid.

"Yes, you are a busybody!" respond Veredic. "Don't you see you are in foreign lands? Get out of here!"

"I’m amazed, by how conviction runs, and faith vanishes from your land." exclaims the young kid.

"Who the hell are you?" asks Veredic.

“I am the boy. I am the man,” replies the young kid. “I’m the meadow, I’m the prairie. I´m the currents of the beatific river, for I come from the all the truthful motifs. I didn't come here to show you anything, though. I just came to catch my favorite spider! And before doing so, I must speak, in the name of the hidden light from this baffled realm."

The young kid then, took a deep, long breath. Still showing his back to the elf, he recited a few words.

"The fall of autumn, lies upon us," exclaims the young kid. “Your time has come, Southern Elves of the Mountain. The rancor against the Assembly has finally ceased. The great nation will shine once again; its power will be reclaimed, and the shadows of today’s journeys will cover the cost of tomorrow’s victory. So, rejoice within your souls. The celestial arrival of the queen, is near. All you have to do, is choose forgiveness to the Land of Anaís, for the soils that were once blessed, have become irreverent. They’ve covered themselves with blasphemy, agony, and the heat of the sacred laws will fall abruptly upon its people. The gnashing of teeth will arise. The nightfall of doom will continue, and the giant guardians of this planet will proclaim the justice from the golden assembly. It is not convenient, to interfere in the course of the wandering kingdom. It will not be positive for the Eleanor’s Heart; for it will bring imbalance in the destiny of this realm, and will bring years misfortune for all of you. "

"I'll take care of them, just like I’m taking care of this spider!” the young kid finishes. “Look! It's already trapped!"

“Excuse me, sir, for my ignorance,” responds Veredic, “but what will happen to our queen's crown? As you may know, this has sparked commotion and uproar around Zaragad. We can bring your news, right to the royal council, but I assure you, this will be misunderstood. How come the queen will recognize her throne, without her ancestral gift? "

Elgoneth then, replied, “The new queen of this people will not wear a crown, for she will be the noblest of all beings. She will be the humblest woman, and her heart will be so pure, that she will refuse a crown. She will reject the throne, until she understands in her soul, she was chosen for this. And when she does, her triumph will begin, and will be announced around the autumn leaves; you’ll recognize her, and you’ follow her all along your glory. Therefore, raise a silver sign, my noble friends, that bears the title of the ‘Eleanor’s Leaves’, for this is how my sacred princess will distinguish her home, in the mist of this forest; the forthcoming of your pride is announced, and her emblem will finally emerge. She will be with you, as one of you, and will lift you all. And the, she will harden herself, as the most powerful queen that has ever seen the story of these nations, and her love will be the memoir of light, for all future times, against the reins of a mythical end."

“After those words,” Count Veredic resumed, “the young kid threw himself into the bushes, and when we went to look for him, he just disappeared.”

"Elgoneth gave us a harsh message, and a bitter test,” exclaims Yeradoc, “for we had to put our thirst for revenge aside, and decided not to attack."

 "Then we all know what happened next," continues Yeradoc, "because of the idiocy that existed in this deserting kingdom."

 “It was mismanaged sir,” exclaims Halem. “Luck was not form their side.”

"Yes, but still, he was a king of bad reckon," responds Yeradoc. “What has his name, Halem?”

"Argôn, sir" replies Halem.

"Yes, that bastard!" exclaims Yeradoc. “For his fault, Anaís was destroyed! Can you believe it? He wasn't even from there! He was from the north! Do you see what I tell you about northern people?"

"Yes s–sir." responds Halem, nervous.

"They were humble people before him!" shouts Yeradoc. “He just took over the poor natives, and ruled them! Like every tyrant does! But well, you know; fortunately, his discord did not cross the rivers of the south; his tainted legacy did not last any longer, and his name will soon be forgotten. Just another one, in the broken history of men."

Leyra stood silently.

“Look at the daughter of life! We're scaring the hell out of her!” exclaimed Yeradoc. “I'm sorry Leyra, you don't need to hear any of this. Let's give you some bright, shall we?"

The man then moved from his podium, and descended the four steps of the altar. He lifted delicately, the extensions of his red robe, as it pounds the marble edges of the steps, and approached to Leyra.

"Come with me, young woman" exclaims Yeradoc. "I will take you to the guides, of your arrangement."

The major count opened an entrance to a private room; it connected with the royal council, but was an extension of the tabernacle. It was the lowest area of the impressive council; the deepest level. There was a convalescent, inexplicable sight. The view showed a sweet narrative of an endless ocean, and mountains to all sides, long and wide. The mist covered the warm firmament; daughters of the highest earth. And thousands of ancestral birds, started raving about the delicate fold of light and their paths.

"Where are Mylo and Misahlia!?" exclaims Yeradoc, furiously. "Why are these kids never here when you need them?!"

"I'll tell them you're looking for them right away, sir," exclaims one of the room guards.

"Please!" responds Yeradoc. “The others shall start the preparation of the fire for the ring, immediately. We’ll make the consecration of the new seneschal of the ruby blood, today! You wanted your chance? Here I leave it for you; right in your hands, blessed by the creator. "

"Thank you, my lord!" exclaims Leyra, "I really appreciate this. How com–"

"We’ve no time!” interrupts Yeradoc. “Mylo and Misahlia will take you to the waiting hall, while I put on my great gown, for your special ceremony."

"Special ceremony?" asks Leyra.

"That's right! Do you think I'm going to receive Elgoneth's daughter as any ordinary thing?” exclaims Yeradoc. “Close the doors! Gather the people! Prepare the lady! Your holy welcome is about to take place! We would celebrate your new assignment, and we'll start it right now!"

"I'm–, I don't know how to thank you for this gesture, sir!" says Leyra.

"Start by feeling lucky, because you are" replies the count. “Today is a special day for the elves. It is the first day of the season for the Sigil of the Divine Nights*. Get ready! Today is our day! And tonight, it will be your best night, young Leyra! "

The woman couldn't believe what she was hearing. Her welcome to the kingdom was about to be sentenced, and she was still delirious around the mysteries about it. She didn't think it was possible, she didn't think it was real. Suddenly, tall men with wooden helmets and shields approached the head earl; the count had to withdraw, but his last words seemed to have made him delirious in the fantasy of a vision. He was looking the waves of the ocean, as if joy had reappeared in his heart.

"Master Yeradoc, before you go, could I ask you something?" says Leyra.

"Of course, my dear," Yeradoc replies. "Whatever for you."

"How could Zaragad be created?"

The count was surprised by the question, for no one had ever asked him that. And it surprised him more, that he had never stopped to think about it. He had accepted the city, as a story from divinity; he had taken the place, as a gift from the god of life to the southern elves. The man reflected with the calm wind, carrying the waves of the great Sea of Lúmelen, and scenes of might, brilliance, and history flourished in the corners of his mind.

“They were like waterfalls arising the children of the motherland,” responds Count Yeradoc. “The day of glory and pride, naturally arrived.  Against tyranny, and hidden darkness, it sprouted before us, Leyra. Miraculously created, upon the survivals of a bloodshed from the entire second generation; buried thousands of years ago, over the mist of centuries. Covered with their painful tears, falling into the murmur of new fields. Reliving the howl of our fearful soldiers; our ancestors, the eternal heroes of this beautiful homeland, of this beatific city. The one that emerged from the hands of the great owner of all heavens. How could it be? Wasn't the question. What would we do with it? Was the real liability. And here we are now, before the most precious kingdom of these mountains, for having accepted our mission, without questioning it, or understanding it completely. And although your father is now whispering us about the coming of a new battalion, we have chosen the exillion*. For as long as I command this reign, these waters will never touch impurity again.”

"And believe me, they won't do it," exclaims the man. “From now on, we can only win. From now on, we will only stand out. Hence, relax, and let yourself be covered by the precious garments of our realm. This is your moment."