THE KING'S SPEECH

Chapter 2: The King's Speech

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Malyva hurried through the trees, his steps urgent and determined. As he moved, a shadow detached itself from his own, resolving into the form of a young elven woman. Her black eyes were the only visible part of her face, the rest of her covered in a sleek black outfit.

"Janiva," Malyva said without breaking stride, "has His Majesty started his speech yet?"

Janiva, now walking alongside him, replied, "No, sir, but it will start any minute."

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On a huge rectangular boulder, an elfen man with grayish hair and a green robe sat with his legs hanging over the edge. Beside him, a golden royal cup filled with some liquid rested. Only his back was visible as he looked out over his gathered kin.

Malyva approached just as a powerful voice echoed through the forest. "O, people of my kin, who follow me with trust and belief, I have gathered you all here to speak about something very important."

The elfen king's voice carried over the crowd, filled with conviction and passion. "As you all were informed by your troop leaders, tomorrow is the day we finally stand against our enemies. These enemies have threatened our survival for years. They have secretly captured our kin—our sisters, mothers, daughters, and wives—and turned them into their slaves. Our enemies do not see us as their equals. To them, we are wild beasts who are good-looking and eloquent. Tomorrow, we go to war."

"Our ancestors taught us that we are noble beings, patient and peace-seeking. And we tried. We tried for years to be patient, to seek peace. We presented the humans with a peace negotiation, but they refused. They want our birthland, the place where you were born."

"This war is not to prove them wrong or ourselves right. It is for our survival, to protect our families, our dignity, our innocent children, sisters, mothers, and daughters, and their future."

"We must protect this land even if it costs us our blood and lives. In this great forest of Devan, our ancestors received blessings from our great goddess. We will not abandon our sacred land at any cost."

"Tomorrow, our numbers will be far fewer than theirs. Each of you might have to take down five enemies. Our odds will seem impossible, but we will win. We will win because we have a reason to fight. They lack that reason; they fight out of greed. Their emperor is blind in his pursuit of conquering all beneath the sky. Sharpen your swords, prepare your bows and arrows, take up whatever weapons you are proficient in. Tomorrow, we show them that we are not only peace-seeking but also proud warriors of the Elfen Kingdom."

"Remember, my brothers and sisters, no matter the battle's outcome, do not lose hope. Have faith in the goddess and believe in her blessings. Our goddess will not abandon us."

Thousands of elves stood near the boulder, many more perched on the branches of nearby trees. Some had tears in their eyes, while others were filled with anger. Malyva stood under a tree, tears in his eyes, feeling the weight of the moment.

The man on the boulder stood, holding the golden cup. He looked down into the liquid and spoke, "Tonight, I am not here as your king. I am here as a warrior of the Elfen Kingdom. I swear upon this sacred water from the pond of Devan, with you all as my witnesses. I will not waver in my decision. It is either victory or death. I will fight for our sacred land, for my people, for the future of our children, until my last breath. Until my heart stops beating, every drop of my blood is for you."

He raised his left fist high and drank from the golden cup with his right hand. His raised fist symbolized the warrior's cry, boosting the morale of the elven warriors to its peak.

"EVERY DROP OF OUR BLOOD IS FOR YOU!"

"EVERY DROP OF OUR BLOOD IS FOR YOU!" the crowd chanted, their voices rising in unison.

Every elf present was now ready to sacrifice themselves for their people, their land, and their freedom. They were ready to trample any enemy in their path.

As the man on the boulder finished drinking, his face became visible. He was fair-skinned with golden eyes and long silvery hair that touched his neck. Exceptionally handsome, with no beard or mustache, he looked like a man who had just entered his thirties.

"LONG LIVE THE KING!"

"LONG LIVE MARKUS ELDIA DEVAN!"

He was Markus Eldia Devan, the king of the Elven Kingdom.

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