Epilogue end of book 4

Gilain sat on the ground, tall, imposing trees surrounding him on all sides as their canopy provided shade from the harsh sun above, only the sound of rustling leaves as company. These meditation locations had been meticulously grown over centuries.

However, it wasn’t to be peaceful today, as a servant appeared in his peripheral vision.

“Sorry to disturb you, sir. The council has requested your presence as a matter of urgency.”

Standing and putting on a robe, his sword on his back, Gilain didn’t bother questioning. It was never worth it to question the old fools. They always got their way in the end.

As he entered the hall, approaching the centre of the room that was surrounded by the council, Gilain was surprised to see the seats were actually full for once. The entire council had shown up.

“You summoned me?” he spoke.

All eyes looked down on him as the head of the council rose from his chair, an ancient being with only a few wisps of hair left on his head, as he cleared his throat.

“Gilain Red-Blade, you are called here today to do a service for your people. We require you to travel to the kingdom of Ashivar and kill a boy named Trevor, who resides in the capital,” the man said.

Gilain spat at the ground. “I will not be used to kill a child.”

There was murmuring and outrage from the other old fools sitting in the hall.

“You must. By the oath you took to protect this kingdom, it must be done,” the leader said.

Gilain glared at him. “How has a child, a boy as you said, threatened our kingdom from another continent? My oath is to protect the people here in this kingdom. I am not your tool for assassinations, and especially not for children.”

There were mutterings, clear as day, people claiming traitor and weak. Gilain felt his blood boil. These muttering old fools had never left their luxury and comforts a day in their life, yet they made these claims.

“The boy controls a dragon as well as other equally powerful creatures, and has killed our first warrior we sent. If we do not act, he will turn those beasts on us and bring death and destruction,” the leader said, a tremble in his voice.

Gilain coldly laughed. “So you sent someone else to assassinate a child, and they failed. Now you’re worried about retribution. So it is you who have threatened our people. It is your failure that has drawn the ire of the dragons to us, creatures we have lived at peace with for a millennium.”

“How dare you!” the leader roared.

“I serve the people of this land. I do not serve you!” Gilain shouted back.

“We speak for the people,” a voice from the side came.

Gilain glared at the man.

“Silence!” the leader yelled. “If you will not follow our orders, then I will assign you to be the ambassador to the Ashivar Kingdom, under my powers as the head of the Thelran Conclave, and I’ll remind you of your oath. If you see any threat to our people, you must act.”

The old fool had a smile across his face as if he had won an argument, but there was no force on this earth that would make him kill a child. Why they’d even send a warrior of his power there to begin with was a joke.

“As you wish,” Gilain growled as he bowed.

***

These were strange times. Never did Clifford believe that he’d meet a fire elemental who shared his hobby, but the statues it — no, he — produced were incredible!

His companion, however, terrified him. Lord Ashmoon. How did a child go from orphan to lord so quickly? What sort of beast was that man? And the rumours that surrounded him made him out to be ruthless. After all, he had an argument with House Valrith in the marketplace, and then only weeks later, the entire alchemy guild had been disbanded and the Valrith name removed.

Then there was the dinner. That food. An actual dragon staying at his house! Then there were his other guests. His wife still had the occasional nightmare after feeling the presence of that cat, but that wasn’t the worst of it. Who was he to be hosting the prince of the nation so casually?

And as if to add a frost cherry on top of the fever dream he’d experienced, the prince, at Lord Ashmoon’s request, hired him on the spot to create a statue in the courtyard at the palace.

At the palace! Where he was travelling right this moment to meet Crisplet, who was already there to start building. He didn’t even know how this was going to work. Crisplet worked with fire. How could he possibly help?

As the carriage came to a halt and the door was opened, Clifford was not sure what he was walking into, but after a moment’s hesitation, dropped to a knee, bowing his head.

Internally, he was screaming. The king was here. Why was the king here? And with the dragon and Crisplet, there was a powerful presence coming from both Sylverith and the King, causing him to sweat.

“Cut that out. Come over here. It’s Clifford, right?” the King said with a giant smile on his face.

“Ye… yes, Your Majesty,” Clifford stammered out, getting to his feet.

He had to wonder, did the King even realise that Sylverith was a dragon? Surely he would, but how could he be so calm?

“Now, I will leave the design up to you, but by what Sylverith has said, Crisplet has some ideas for a phoenix statue here, but he wouldn’t decide on anything until you arrived,” the King beamed.

Crisplet let off a burst of sparks.

“It would be an honour,” Clifford bowed.

“Now, now, cut that out,” the King waved him off.

Sylverith, who had been just smiling next to him, spoke, her voice going directly to his mind. “Hello, dear. I’m here to help communication with young Crisplet. Trevor was worried you might struggle.”

“Tha… thank you, Lady Sylverith,” he bowed again.

She chuckled, saying, “I am no lady. Please do just call me Sylverith, or Protector of the Dark Forest, but usually people find Sylverith easier.”

There was a single spark from Crisplet, causing a giant smile to come across the dragon’s face. “No, dear. You’re fine to keep calling me Aunt Sylvy.”

Crisplet appeared before him, where he formed several figures out of flowing ash, all appearing to be different versions of the phoenix, from its full bird-like form to its humanoid form with feathers where skin should be.

“These are all ideas that he has for the statue, and he wants your help to pick,” Sylverith said.

The King nodded to the side. Why was he deciding? Surely it’s the King’s statue. It should be the King who decides, right?

With a gulp, and all eyes on him, he went up to inspect the three figures, and ultimately, thinking the full bird form was best since, like most, he didn’t even know she had a humanoid form at all. But he instantly started to second-guess himself. Perhaps showing some of the human side would be good, then?

Find this and other great novels on the author’s preferred platform. Support original creators!

Ultimately picking the middle figure, which was half human with giant burning wings where the arms should have been and clawed feet, looking more like a burning harpy in this small form, he knew that wouldn’t be the end result.

“Perfect! I will leave you all to it. Here is your initial payment; the rest will be paid on completion,” the King happily said, throwing two large bags of coins that Clifford caught, only glimpsing the inside for a moment and realising it was full of gold coins…

Gold coins.

***

Marcus sat in his study, going over all his notes and messages.

He’d made a giant blunder, allowing corruption not just to damage his kingdom, but for it to take such deep root. He knew that fell on his shoulders, that corruption like that only happens when the leader allows it to.

All the events that had happened in the last month had been an eye-opening experience, and he was shocked that the people were not calling for his removal. He wouldn’t have even blamed them if they did.

But he had a chance now, a chance to set everything back on track and to show the people he was a leader worth following. He’d been too lax for too long, purely trusting his advisers and never questioning what he was told, never leaving the safety of the capital. Sylverith alluded to there being more corruption, and that she only dealt with the individuals who were directly targeting Trevor.

That meant there were still others, but just who could Marcus trust?

“Liam, could you please gather my children and wife?” Marcus called to his most trusted guard.

Bowing, Liam left the room immediately.

Soon, everyone was standing in the room, looks of confusion on their faces.

“Liam, please stay as well,” Marcus said before he could leave the room.