Chapter 42

Chapter 42

- [90 AC]

The peaceful days after the wedding were gone. Now, a different kind of energy filled Ael'tharion. The news of the Triarchy attack had stirred a deep, ancient anger in our people.

Kaelen's Point of View:

The Stone Chamber was still cool and quiet after the council. But the decisions made there would echo across the seas. My hand, steady and calm, wrote the orders. The first was a Call to Banners. For us, it was not only trumpets and drums. It was a wave of subtle magic sent through the very roots of the trees that connected our lands. Glowing sigils, shaped like our tree emblem, appeared in the sky above our hidden villages, carried on the wind. Fast elf messengers, running on paths only they knew, carried the news to every corner of our empire, calling our warriors to prepare.

I saw the change in Ael'tharion. The gentle hum of celebration was replaced by the busy sounds of readiness. Our warriors, tall and swift, began to gather. They prepared their living wood bows, their crystal-edged spears, and their shimmering, light armor. Our ships, woven from strong, magical wood, were readied in the harbors, their sails glowing faintly. Even the mighty Great Apes in the deep forests seemed to stir, their distant roars carrying a deeper meaning now, a promise of power if needed.

The second order was a message to the Triarchy. It was short and clear, carried by one of our swiftest couriers on a magical skiff that moved like a dart across the waves. The message spoke in their own tongue, but our magic made sure they would feel the weight of every word: "Return what you took. Our citizens, our goods, unharmed. You have three days to do this, or war will come to your shores. The Empire of Silvanor does not suffer theft and enslavement."

The next three days felt long, filled with quiet tension. Our preparations continued. Our commanders, with their maps and their knowledge of the sea currents, met often in the Stone Chamber, planning routes and battle formations. Our people worked with a quiet resolve. They understood the deep insult.

On the morning of the fourth day, a message returned. It was not carried by our swift skiff, but by a small, arrogant human merchant ship, poorly made compared to our vessels. The message came in a heavy, sealed scroll. I broke the seal.

The words were harsh, mocking. "The Triarchy keeps what it takes. Your 'citizens' are now our property. Your 'empire' means nothing to us. Come, little elves, and face true power. We await your 'war'."

A cold fire sparked within me. Their arrogance was truly limitless. This meant war.

I called another council. All my children were there again: Aerion, Elaron, Aelia, Valerion, and Lorien. My generals, strong elves hardened by years of training, stood ready.

"They refuse," I stated, my voice calm, but with an edge that left no doubt. "They mock us. This insult cannot stand."

Aerion stepped forward, his posture proud. "Father," he said, his voice firm, "I will lead our forces. It is my place, as Crown Prince, to defend our people, to lead them in battle." He was ready, I could see it in his stance, in his determined face.

I looked at my firstborn son, my heart full of understanding. He was strong, skilled, and now a married High Elf. But his path was changing. "Aerion," I said, my voice gentle but unyielding. "Your path is now one of foundation. You have just taken a bride from a powerful human kingdom. Your duty now is to her, to solidify this alliance, to begin a new lineage for our people. Your honeymoon is not yet complete. Your place is here, to ensure the future, to be the symbol of our new unity." It was hard for him, I knew, but he understood the greater purpose. He nodded slowly, his shoulders slumping just a little.

Then I turned to my second son. "Elaron," I said. His head snapped up, a flicker of surprise in his expression. He was known for his wisdom, for his deep thoughts and quiet study, not for leading armies. But he also held a keen mind for strategy, unseen by many. "You will lead our forces. Take command of the fleet and the warriors. Bring our power to bear upon the Triarchy. Free our people. Show them the true might of Silvanor."

Elaron's Point of View:

My father's words hung in the air: "You will lead our forces." My mind, usually filled with ancient texts and the flow of magic, suddenly felt sharp and focused on a different kind of puzzle. A surprise flickered through me, quickly replaced by a firm sense of purpose. I had always been calm, always thought things through. Perhaps that was why Father chose me.

I looked at Aerion. His face showed disappointment, but he nodded at me, a silent message of trust and support. He understood Father's words, even if it was a hard path for him. My other siblings, Aelia and Valerion and Lorien, looked at me, their faces solemn but ready.

"I accept, Father," I said, my voice steady. The weight of it settled on my shoulders, heavy but not unwelcome. My years of studying tactics, of understanding patterns in history, would now be put to a different test. I was not the brute force of Valerion, nor the inspiring presence of Aerion, but I had a different strength: a calm mind, sharp sight, and the wisdom of our High Elf heritage.

My father looked at me, a faint, proud smile touching his lips. "Go, my son. Show them what true power means."

I turned to the generals. They stood straight, their faces grim but ready. They were the backbone of our military, strong and practical. They knew the ways of the sea and the land. They had trained for this. "Prepare the fleet for immediate departure," I commanded, my voice firm. "We sail for Silverflow. Our first task: to free our captured kin."

A new feeling settled in my heart. It was not the thirst for battle, but a deep, cold resolve. The Triarchy had dared to touch our people, to insult our peace. They would learn what happens when the calm, ancient strength of the Silvanor Empire is awakened. War was upon us.