Chapter 3

With the knowledge of the oncoming bloodbath just over the horizon, Valka checked up on his eldest son, Prince Laverne, withdrawing from Sellion. The prince was the heir apparent to Valka's kingdom and the main territory of the elves, Elven Guard. He stood in front of his child's door, going through the scenario many times in his head. There was no time to rehearse and Valka stepped inside without knocking. Laverne was sitting in his window seat, dressed in his nightclothes.

The boy craned his head towards Valka and spoke, "Hello, Father." Valka noticed Laverne was barefoot and a small smile crept onto his face. He spent most of his childhood barefoot. It was unlikely he knew of the existence of socks.

"Laverne..." Valka's words caught in his throat. Laverne's bedroom was as massive as any of the other rooms in the castle. There was much space between the fireplace and his bed pushed against the wall. Books and a collection of bows adorned the walls like a library dedicated to the existence of Prince Laverne Ingerman.

Laverne almost stood but turned back to the window. Orange light illuminated the edges of Laverne's face. "Father...Arün is on fire." He pointed at the window with his thick finger, making a fingerprint in the condensation. His voice was quivering. He had every right to be afraid. Nothing like this had ever happened in the time he'd been alive. Prince Laverne drew a line down as he stood up, taking a step away from the window. Laverne took a step closer to his father, still facing the window. Valka couldn't help but hug his child tightly from behind.

"They are here, then," Valka whispered to himself. "Don't worry, son, I'm going to fix this but I need you to do something for me."

"What is it?" Laverne turned around and rested his chin on Valka's shoulder.

"What I'm about to ask of you...It is of the utmost importance." Laverne listened for his instructions. "I need you...to take your younger brother and sister down to the wine cellar. And I need you to stay there and protect them until this is over."

Laverne pulled away from Valka's hug. "I will." Valka mulled over why Laverne never questioned him when he had requested for something with a vague rationality. Laverne couldn't help but think: Until what is over, Father?

Valka and Laverne headed outside. As Laverne began to leave Valka by his lonesome, Valka said, "Laverne, cer aöz véw."

Laverne ran down the hall to fetch his siblings. As he ran, he called out to Valka, "Iŭlle, cer aöz véw, whiet!" Laverne didn't think about those words and what they really meant in that moment of time. Nor did he think much of that would be the last time he'd ever hear King Valka say that to him.

Laverne, I love you.

High King Valka had three children, two with his ex-wife and one from somebody else. Laverne and Jericho were blood brothers, Khaleesi was their half-sister and the whole reason for Valka and Moria's divorce. Moria had become abusive towards him after the birth of his daughter. She slept in another room and would give Valka a look of betrayal whenever they passed in the halls, if not slap him across the face. Valka wouldn't fight back as he had always considered himself a pacifist. He refused to harm another living being. There had been something that happened long before he married Moria and had children that changed his ways. A secret he'd take to his grave.

Laverne spoke to Jericho from the doorway, Jericho had been resting. He rubbed his eyes, yawning. "It's too late for this, ërre." Jericho looked like an identical copy of the eldest son despite being much younger and an inch shorter. They had fun saying they weren't actually twins when they played the guessing game with someone. They both were also quite similar in features to their father, even if they didn't have his black mane.

"Cer'vä, but Father asked me to—he asked us to." Laverne didn't like the idea either. He wanted to sleep. He had made plans for tomorrow.

Prince Jericho and Prince Laverne grabbed their younger sister, a girl not more than five years in age called Khaleesi, without waking her. The princess was only a little girl as there had been a massive age gap between the boys and her. Even Laverne was forty-six years older than Jericho, Jericho in his last decade of childhood in Elven years at ninety-two. Jericho held Khaleesi, letting her rest her head on his shoulder. The three of them proceeded to run down to the cellar, where Valka had instructed Laverne to take his siblings.

Sellion stood in front of the cellar doors, impatiently tapping his foot. "It's about time." The boys looked at each other confused. "Prince Jericho, let me take the Princess from your arms to make it easier for you to climb down," Sellion motioned his head at the stairs of the cellar.

Jericho shook his head, "Nuh-uh." Sellion shrugged, knowing that the second born prince was kind of a klutz and that the chances of him not messing this up were slim to none. Jericho took two steps before slipping and falling the rest of the way down the cellar stairs. He braced himself around Khaleesi, happy that when all was done, that she hadn't woken up.

Jíngo. Sellion crossed his arms and turned towards Laverne, waiting for him to go. Laverne descended and Sellion followed, close behind with a spear at the ready.

Meanwhile, Valka hadn't followed his children to the cellar they'd be using as a panic room. Instead, he went back to his own chamber and dressed himself in golden armor that shone like the sun, ready to face the inevitable. In his chamber, he kept a glass case with a sword in it. There were supposed to be two swords; the second had been missing for a long time. The case felt empty and vacant without the other.

Valka stood, admiring the sword that was still there. "This may be my end, Daylight."

Daylight was a fine blade crafted by dwarves and magically enhanced by elves. It had a blade made of clear azurite and a hilt decorated with gold trim in the shapes of leaves.

"It will be nice to have you by my side one final time."

That being said, Valka opened the doors and marched into the city by his lonesome.

Royal guards called out to him and others tried to physically bar him from leaving. He pushed past them, freezing them to the ground where they stood with magic. By the time they could use their weapons to break their icy shackles, their king was long gone.

The princelings and their guard sat in the underground darkness together. They had all been very quiet and Sellion stayed vigilant. Laverne was being contemplative. What is happening? Why did Father want me to do this? He looked back on the day. Jericho and I went racing through the streets of Arün on chariots. It was fun. Sellion and the rest of the High Council yelled at us for going against the royal protocol. Father took our side and told them we are confined to the castle so often he did not blame us for wanting to get out. Laverne let out a gasp as he remembered when Jericho and him were out, he saw many crows resting in the trees. In Elven culture, black birds are an omen of a forthcoming tragedy, usually resulting in death. How many did I see? 5? 10? 12? Maybe it was 50. There were a plethora of them in the trees. What did he mean when he said 'I need you to stay there and protect them until this is over'?

"He is...going to fix this?" Laverne muttered, his mind tying the events of the day and his father's speech together.

"Fix what?" Sellion called into question upon hearing Laverne ramble quietly. He didn't really care what was going through Laverne's head. He mostly wanted the Prince to shut up.

"The fact that Arün is on fire...?"

"Wait, what?" Jericho exasperated to his brother. Jericho had curtains covering his window. Before bed, he always closed them.

Is he going to try this by himself? He is going to die if he does! Laverne jumped into a standing position. Sellion kept his eyes on the Elf Prince. Laverne bolted out the door when he thought Sellion would be too tense from the suspension to do anything about it. He broke through the lock without hesitation by throwing his body against it.

"Prince Laverne—!!" Laverne heard Sellion yell. He chased after his charge, Laverne barely up the stairs. "Where are you—?" Sellion wrestled him to the ground. "You must stay here, per your father's—and my—orders!"

Laverne pushed Sellion off of him, knocking him backwards into the wall and temporarily stunning him. Maybe Sellion had let himself fall to the Prince. Laverne questioned if Sellion was acting as never in his weapons training had he seen his fighting teacher go down so easily. Maybe there was a reason he hadn't barricaded the door.

"I did not mean to do that..." Laverne spoke in sotto voce.

"Laverne, what is going on?" Jericho barked, emerging slightly up the stairs. He pat Khaleesi's head. "You're acting...not like yourself."

"If I do not do something, Father may die tonight!" Laverne blurted. He watched Jericho's eyes go wide. "He went out there, alone, Jericho," Laverne implied he was speaking of their kingdom that was currently ablaze.

Of course he did, Jericho couldn't help but think. "So, what will you do? Die trying to save him from dying? Then both of your lives are wasted!" Jericho's words were as harsh as heavy rain. He didn't want to be king. He was the second born. Laverne was supposed to take over when Valka passed. Jericho didn't know the first thing about ruling like his brother had. Laverne was prepared for this.

Laverne thought about it for a moment then turned his head to the side to look at Jericho. "I have to try. If I do not...I will not be able to forgive myself."

Jericho noted Laverne's feelings, unsure of his own. Laverne began to walk away, jogging as he got to the kitchen door. Jericho reached out to the open air and said within an earshot of Laverne, "Please, don't kill yourself."

Laverne still turned away, swallowing his plight.