Chapter 8:

Plans for Celebration

The intricate doors flew open as the king of the Yursear kingdom, King Godfreed, walked forward into the war room. The brilliant gold embellished throughout his clothing shined as the sunlight streamed through the large windows surrounding the room, and it made the king shine with an ethereal light unbefitting of his violent nature.

Rolling his dark eyes at the gleaming light, the king snapped his fingers impatiently, and the servants in the room all quickly snapped to attention, moving the heavy curtains to block the light from entering the room. Other servants began to light candles, quickly lighting up the room in a lustrous glow as the king stood, watching over his people with a glance of superiority.

“Welcome gentlemen,” The king said as he removed his heavy velvet cape and sat in the large chair at the front of the long table. Twelve men from all over the Yursear kingdom, all having different types of training in logic and warfare, looked patiently at the king, waiting for him to begin their meeting with mixed expressions, “As you all well know, I’ve asked you all to come to the palace because our kingdom was assaulted, and our people butchered, in a moment of weakness for our kingdom.” He sighed and rubbed his tired eyes with his wrinkled hand, “It’s a moment I hold in true shame, as it makes us look weak and pathetic compared to the filthy, woodland creatures that share our beautiful country.”

“So what are you thinking as a response to their attack, Your Majesty?” Culver, one of the king’s closest attendants, asked him, raising an arm to adjust his sleeve and pull out a feathered pen to write. The paper below his fingers was ready to be stained with ink at a moment’s notice. 

King Godfreed rubbed his chin with his hand and leaned back casually, “A response to their attack is absolutely necessary, one that reassures our people that we are controlling the situation. We don’t want a rebellion on our hands.”

“Your Majesty, I may have an idea, if I may voice my opinion,” One of the newest men welcomed into the king’s confidence, a young merchant with ties all around the continent, named Willis said, raising his eyes and looking directly at the king with sharp, narrow pupils, “Instead of a simple rebuttal, why don’t we do something more,” He waved his hand about nonchalantly, “Drastic? Something that will remind the elves that humans are the ones truly in charge.” His tone was heavy, but playful. As if the man were speaking of a humorous going-on he had in town.

The king lowered his hands and leaned forward with interest, but Culver, and some of the other men, looked at Willis suspiciously, not trusting the new man with questionable loyalties.

“And how do you suggest we do that, Sir Willis?” One of the other men, a Yursear noble with Yursearean aristocratic lineage leading back to the creation of the kingdom, asked, raising an eyebrow at the young merchant. In response, the young merchant laughed and crossed his arms, shooting the group a haughty chuckle. 

“If you’d only give me a moment, I will tell you everything I have planned,” Willis looked at the noble, then shot a mischievous stare to the king.

“How dare you-” The noble began to say, before the King cut him off with a wave of his hand,

The king raised his hand, the heavy gems sparkled as his palm silenced the group of bickering men. He opened his mouth and commanded, “Silence! I want to hear Sir Willis speak.” The king’s voice was low, and he frowned heavily as he looked upon the rowdy group of men, “I want blood. Do you have an idea to help me attain it?” 

“Oh, Your Majesty, you will love my plan then.” The snake-like smile on Willis’s lips lengthened as the red light in his eyes gleamed. An eager look flashed across his face before he could control himself.

A dark smile appeared on the king’s wrinkled face. He was anticipating something good to come from working with this crafty man. 

…

“Prince Clarence, please do not run off like that again!” Though she was reprimanding the young prince, his maid could only soften her tone when she saw the young boy running to her, smiling, holding a large, leather-bound book in his hands.

The pair was supposed to be going to the prince’s room for a nap, but he had instead said that he remembered something and ran ahead to his room at lightning speed, leaving his maid to hurriedly run behind him, calling him all the way until she had reached his room, where he was holding the book. 

“Valorie, I found it! I found my savior!” Even after he had been rescued by the older couple, Clarence was still searching for the young man that had rescued him. 

Valorie, a younger, peppier maid from the nearby countryside, smiled at him. Her freckles were like stars, according to Clarence, which led to her becoming his personal nanny for the time being, until they were able to move back into their own castle.

Valorie said, “Your rescuer? Is he in your book?” The adults found it hard to believe that an elven intruder would have saved the young prince. They had all believed that the boy had imagined it during the tragic event as part of a coping mechanism. They never thought the words about his savior would turn out to be true.

Clarence impatiently ran up to Valorie, holding the large book open in his small hands. “See, he looked just like this! I told you I wasn’t lying!” Indignant, Clarence smiled smugly.

Valorie began, “Of course, you weren’t-” She stopped herself, her eyes were fixed on the photo. 

The book was wide open, showing a picture of a tall, handsome young elven boy, maybe fifteen or sixteen. His long silver hair draped down his back in a long ponytail, and the sword in his hand was held high, glittering against the large moon behind him. The elf’s ears were tall and pointed, making him look almost celestial, a martyr. 

This picture accompanied the story, The Martyr Elf. The story described a young elven boy adopted by a human woman after being abandoned in the woods by his birth family. It wasn’t until he was a young boy before he noticed he was different from those around him. He had pointed ears and sharp eyes, where those around him had rounded eyes and ears.

After being picked on by the humans around him and finally being abandoned by his family and friends, he was banished from his small hometown. With only the clothes on his body and a few coins to his name, the boy went on a journey. He befriended other elves and humans alike, and he made it his mission to make the world a better place. A place where people who looked different would be accepted, and where justice ruled, not prejudice.

Soon, as he became a young adult, the boy’s story was shared amongst the people. Through his kindness and hard work, the young elf slowly helped the humans and the elves put down their weapons and hatred and come together as one society. The boy had helped bridge the gap between the humans and elves, and he had succeeded in making the world a much better place. The story goes on to say he lived a long prosperous life, spreading joy to those around him.

Clarence loved this story, and always requested it to be read to him. However, this was one of the few times he had seen a drawing of the lead character before. His eyes were fixated on the drawing, unable to look away. His young heart was captured. All he could think of was the young man who had saved him. 

 Silas… that was his name. Clarence would not let himself forget that.

Valorie was shocked that Prince Clarence was even allowed to own such a distasteful, propaganda-filled book. She was even more shocked that Prince Clarence, the future king of the Yursear kingdom, was showing such attachment to an elven figure. Valorie glanced at the character in the book again when Clarence said something peculiar. “Silas!”

She blinked, “Excuse me, what was that?” She asked the prince sweetly.

“That’s the name of the elf who saved me! Silas!” He lifted his chest proudly. “He told me he’d protect me!” 

Valorie paused, before saying, “Is that so?” Valorie quickly tried to change the subject,  “Why don’t you lay down, and I’ll read this story to you.”

Clarence nodded vigorously before jumping onto his bed and tucking himself into the covers, “When you read it, can you change the elf’s name to Silas, though?”

Valorie smiled weakly and nodded as she pulled up a chair and took a seat. As she opened the book, and started to read, the doors to the bedroom opened and Queen Radcliffe, the wife of King Godfreed and mother of Clarence, entered the room. Her long, deep red dress flowed behind her as she walked towards Clarence and the young maid. Her long, deep blue hair hung solemnly behind as her piercing dark eyes stared at Clarence and the maid holding the book tightly in her hands. The maid’s face paled as she quickly shut the book and rose from her seat, bowing deeply for the queen.

“Rise.” The queen said, not even looking at the maid, “You are dismissed for now.” She waved the back of her hand with little care, shooing the young woman away without a single glance. 

The maid quickly rose and scurried out of the room, leaving The Martyr Elf haphazardly on Clarence’s nightstand.

“Mama!” Clarence cried, sitting up in his large bed and stretching out his arms. His mother walked over and sat on the edge of the bed, giving her young son a deep hug and a kiss on the forehead. A genuine smile crossed her thin lips. 

“I’m so sorry, Clare. Your mother has been so busy, she hasn’t had any time to see you.” The Queen pulled her dress under her as she moved and sat next to Clarence, “I didn’t know it was your nap time. Don’t you usually study at this time?”

“No, Mama. The nannies changed my schedule a while ago.” Clarence said excitedly, happy to see his mother. 

The queen furrowed her eyebrows with an unreadable expression, “Is that so?” She then smiled warmly at her son and said, “Well, I have good news for you, do you want to know what it is?” Her tone raised at the end of the sentence.

Clarence clapped his hands together excitedly, “What is it, Mama?” His eyes sparkled warmly.

“You must promise to be a very good boy, and your Mother will tell you.”

Clarence jumped up and down on his bed, “I promise, Mama. I do! Now please tell me!” The queen laughed and shook her head at the young prince.

“Well, your father and I were discussing how your eighth birthday is a month away, and we’ve decided the perfect way to celebrate would be to throw a parade in your honor.”

“Really, Mama?!” Clarence cried, “Do I get to invite all my friends?”

“Of course, my dear. Anyone your heart desires.” The queen raised her hand again and brushed the messy bangs out of Clarence’s eyes gently. 

“Then I want to invite Silas.” 

Queen Radcliffe froze, furrowing her eyebrows in confusion.

“Who, my dear?”

“Silas.”

“And who is that?”

“My savior.”

Queen Radcliffe sighed, rubbing her forehead with her palm, “Oh, no. Not this again, Clare.” Her tone changed to one of annoyance. 

“Mama, you said anyone. I want Silas there.” His voice was resolute.

“Darling, we discussed this. There is no Silas, he is a figment of your imagination.”

Clarence’s face began to scrunch up as his cheeks flushed a heavy red in displeasure. Water formed in his large eyes as tears began to roll down his cheeks. He sniffed loudly, looking aggrieved as he wailed to his mother, even pulling on the edge of her dress like a kitten.

“Clarence, we are not doing this. You are too old to be throwing tantrums. Besides, you promised to be a good boy!”

“No, Mama! I want Silas there! And I found a picture of him!” Clarence responded, leaning past his mother to grab The Martyr Elf. The tears that had started to flow down his cheeks amazingly stopped as the boy tore open the book and flipped through the worn pages with an excited expression. His fingers stopped near the end as he turned the heavy book towards his mother, showing the elf standing with a sword raised over his head, uniting the people below him. The queen sighed as she saw the book, her lips twisting into a tight frown.

“Clare, why do you still have that book?” Queen Radcliffe took the book out of Clarence’s small hands, resulting in him pouting all the more, and put it aside on the edge of the nightstand, out of Clarence’s reach. She then gently grabbed Clarence’s flushed cheeks and stared into his deep, little eyes, “Clarence, elves are bad people. They hurt people for fun. Look what they did to our home?” The queen sighed and let go of Clarence’s face, instead choosing to pull him in for a tight hug, “Oh, Clarence. I just want what’s best for you. You haven’t had much experience with the elves, because I've shielded you from them. But please trust me, Clarence. They will harm you if they ever get near you.”

Clarence wrapped his arms around his mother’s back before leaning back and saying, looking at her face, “But Mama, I promise Silas is different.”

The queen looked away and shook her head, seeing she would not convince her naive son any different. All she could do was agree, “Fine. I will send an invitation to your birthday parade to this elf. Clara,” The queen said, summoning one of her many attendants with a wave of her hand, “Prepare a letter of invitation for this elf-”

“Silas.” Clarence interrupted. The queen forcefully smiled before continuing,

“Silas. And let him know he’s a welcome guest in our kingdom.” The queen shot the attendant a knowing glare, and the attendant bowed and left the room, pretending to have a letter prepared, but instead stood outside of the room, waiting for Queen Radcliffe to exit. 

“There, Clare. Are you happy now?” The queen asked after the attendant left, swiftly closing the door behind him as he hurried down the hall with the queen’s orders. Clarence’s childish face broke into an excited glow as his smile grew bigger and bigger. The queen was slightly alarmed by Clarence’s reaction, but tried to contain her shock by moving past the subject, “So the issue is settled now, then?”

“Yes, Mama! Thank you!” Clarence’s brilliant smile made the queen’s heart clench, but she still threw a skeptical look over at Clarence’s favorite book. A fight for another day, I suppose. It’s not doing any real damage at the moment anyway. The queen rose and gave Clarence a gentle kiss on the forehead before exiting, having her many attendants follow behind her. The maid quickly entered after the queen had left and went up to Clarence.