'Elder... I appreciate the detailed account, but can you please get to the point?'
Virion sighed in exasperation. Elder Symonticus had been recounting in great detail all the discussions of the senate meeting. Virion had missed the morning senate meeting on account of being bedridden until late afternoon due to the injuries he had sustained in the scuffle with the warlocks outside the stronghold. He was at his wit's end listening to the elder's slow deliberation through the matters of the senate.
The elder had explained how the senate discussed food provisions, the splitting of rations, and a reallocation of living space. The senate had even discussed the education policies in detail. When Virion heard this from the elder, he snorted thinking he was joking but the elder's expression remained serious.
It was extremely characteristic of the upper echelons of the perabel community to be worried about education of all things while the warlocks threatened to invade at any moment and wipe out the entire race. Virion was growing impatient as none of these topics were of particular interest to him. There was only one thing he hoped for as a result of these tedious and largely useless senate meetings.
'And what might that be, young Virion?'
The elder had a slight twinkle in his eye as he snarkily replied to Virion's request.
'You know very well what I wish to know, elder. Will we travel to Dragoncrest?', said Virion, a hint of irritation creeping into his voice. Symonticus stroked his beard.
'I must admit that I have been avoiding this topic, young Virion...', he said tiredly, his gaze drifting away from Virion's eyes.
'As if that wasn't painfully obvious...' Virion sighed.
'At least an agenda? A forecast of the future?'
Elder Symonticus relaxed back into his chair.
'I am afraid there are no plans in the foreseeable future to travel to Dragoncrest, young Virion.'
Virion quickly stood and rushed over to the table where he grabbed his scabbard and cloak.
'Very well then, I will appeal to elder Albertus directly.'
Symonticus quickly rose and placed a hand on Virion's shoulder.
'Now, now do not be so hasty Virion. I am sure the senate will order a movement when the time is right.'
Virion looked the elder in the eye, tightening the fist with which he clenched his cloak.
'When will the time be right... elder?'
His voice was icy cold. Symonticus slowly removed his hand from the young elf's shoulder.
'You see Virion... War strategy is very delicate-'
'My mother is dead, elder!', Virion's voice had raised to a shout.
He turned to face Symonticus who was stunned to silence by his sudden outburst. Though he had shown irritation before, Virion had never spoken to Symonticus with disrespect. He had certainly never gone so far as to raise his voice and interrupt him mid-sentence.
'My mother i-is dead. She was our last hope of saving your people. Do you not agree?', Virion's voice was much quieter yet every bit as intense.
Symonticus remained silent. Virion stood stiffly before the elder for a beat then suddenly relaxed his posture. He replaced his scabbard and cloak on the table and slowly shambled over to his chair, into which he collapsed, exhaling deeply.
'The warlocks will break down the barrier and the perabels will be killed. Just as my people were killed two weeks ago.', Virion said quietly as he leaned back in his chair and looked the elder in the eye.
Symonticus walked back over to the chairs and sat in front of Virion, remaining silent.
'Does that not worry the senate? Does that not worry you? How long are you content with waiting for your inevitable doom?'
Virion slowly leaned forward as he spoke, his eyes remaining locked with the elder's. He wore a fierce expression that Symonticus had not seen before. The child before him was beginning to crumble, that much was clear. The old perabel sighed.
'You are correct, Virion.'
Virion took a deep breath and stared out the open door into the street. Symonticus watched him carefully and considered his next words.
'The sprites of Dragoncrest are the only ones who can save us now. But the senate is hesitant.'
Virion looked back at the old perabel, his brows twitching. The intense expression had left his face, but his green eyes still burned with a passion.
'They find it... unsightly to take the help of a race such as the sprites...', the elder said reluctantly, his gaze shifting to the floor. Virion remained silent for a moment as the elder continued to stare at the floor.
'Then there is no saving them.', said Virion. He stood and stomped over to the table, snatching up his scabbard and cloak once again.
'I will go and fetch rations for dinner, elder. Thank you for the account.'
Symonticus watched as Virion marched away. The boy was always a tough one, but his mother's death seemed to have sharpened his edge. Symonticus stood up and walked to his open doorway, staring out at the cliff where the hospital was. Hawlen was definitely another with a sharp edge. He slowly stroked his beard and thought back to the last time he had spoken to his daughter. A shiver ran down his spine as he remembered the harsh words they had traded. He would have his hands full with these two in the days to come.
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