Peace Through War

"General," said the Prince, "it has come to my attention that the king and his council wish to see your head after you cease the war. Is that not right, or are the rumors false?"

"They're true," said the general, glancing at Alais, who was looking to him with eyes the size of saucers, and frowned.

"Well," continued the Prince, "I have an idea for you to get out alive. Just stage a coup. You have the men and the strength to do it. It would be easy. You would be king. You could take any woman you want as your wife, even if she is taken ... Perhaps, Lady Faervel...?" Grinning as he saw Linnor flinch, he prattled on, "And you could crush any resistance you meet with a wave of your hand. No longer woul you be General Linnor, the general of Hellfire, you would be Your Grace, King Linnor Meryk."

Linnor shook his head. "That's treason. I will not start an uprising in order to preserve my life. Don't bring up this subject with me again. Tell it to your Revolutionary. I am sure he will be more than happy to kill another king." Gesturing to Alais, he turned and strode away, though in the back of his mind, a tiny voice was saying, Take him up on the offer. Faervel could be yours, forever and always. You are Hellfire; you can do it!
 
It seemed she had been further than he would have liked to admit. Trying the already frazzled nerves to there end of their longevity, Krim knew the wraith camp was close. too close for his own personal liking but he had to keep moving on in hopes to reign in the wild elven woman.
 
Harndir had been in his tent, writing several letters to send off, when he was summoned by one of his soldiers. A lone elf had been spotted, and Harndir was the closest general. Retrieving his sword, he strapped it to his hip. It wasn't a special sword; it was just a steel bastard sword with a leather-wrapped hilt. However, it served the purpose of cutting down enemy after enemy.

Using his shadows to quicken his speed as he ran out of camp, he unsheathed his sword just as he grabbed the back of the elf's shirt. "Caught you," he teased in a sing-song voice, just as he saw Linnor's runner flying overhead, back towards camp.
 
It was one thing after another and his mind just couldn't comprehend it anymore. Cringing and daring to pull his shirt out of the bastards hands, Krim whirled around readying to strike back at the man. "We'll see about that, I don't have time for garbage!"
 
Harndir grinned, his eyes strangely emotionless, given the situation. Taking a step back, he asked, "Shall I make the first move, or do you wish to?" After a moment, he said, "I guess it shall be me." Running forwards, he swung his sword, the grin turning almost manic as his shadows released, covering his body like an armor and reinforcing the blade of his sword.

((Sorry for the crappy post TwT))
 
Apparently his mind had been made up before he could even respond. He really didn't have time to deal with another waste of a wraith skin. "Didn't you hear me the first time?" His fangs bared, releasing all control on the facade that was his elven skin, letting the ash crawl across turning it cold and eventually turning into pitch at the tips of his digits. Eyes turned into the shimmering red crimson as he brought the massive claw up to grab the grind of the sword stopping it without a thought, the dragon like scales forming quickly though to say he was unscathed was wrong.

Feeling the bite of the blade in his palm, he snarled at the wraith giving him a driving push back. "I don't have time for garbage, but if you are going to insist!" Once angular features distorted into a large square maw, almost lizard like but certainly not close to any dragon kind in existence. It was far too short and square to be related to a dragon that loomed the skies.

He had to act quickly, this form would only drain the remainder of his strength leaving him incredibly vulnerable.
 
Feeling satisfaction as soon as he felt his sword dig into the elf's hand, Harndir spun around as he was pushed, his sword balancing him. Flicking his sword, the blood flew off of it and onto the grass, staining a few strands red. As he readied for his next attack, a whiteness filled his eyes, and the true intent of his shadows was making its show.

Twisting forwards again, he danced around the elf, not letting his transforming body shake him or his resolve. As soon as he saw an opening, he took it, making a wide, sweeping slash from the left, the strength of his shadows wnough to cut through iron. Flesh would yield like butter before his strength, which was what Harndir wanted. He was aiming to sever the elf's arm, but that was best-case scenario. Worst-case would be him missing entirely, but Harndir knew that he wouldn't.
 
He seen it coming, knew that he could maybe deflect it but this gnat was proving to be stupider than he looked. Couldn't take the hint to take a hike and now it was getting him into some trouble.

Sliding back enough to at least keep his arm, the sword still imbedded enough to take out a gouge of him. "Don't need a limb removal thanks," he snarled feeling the slick slid of blood running across his arm downwards. Moving to advance towards the wraith, he paused forcing himself in the other direction. He knew that prickling feeling better than most!

Slicing through the air making an audible screech, the blinding concentrated light shot through the center of them easily pushing them apart. It wasn't directly aimed at either, but he knew the second one to come would be aimed at the wraith and he was certain it wouldn't leave a scratch.

Bounding back a few more paces to keep his distance, his attention veered to his right on a slight incline. She stood ready aimed purposely at the wraith. Relief and fear took over in his distorted features as she looked bound and ready to strike.

"Vermin, the lot of you. Get off my land!" her voice hissed through her teeth as he was more than determined to keep his distance from this wraith.

"Lady Catalyn, get out of here!" he snapped at her hoping to at least drive her off.
 
Harndir couldn't help but grin as he saw the elven girl atop a ridge, a bow in hand. However, he had to speak against her words. "The world's land belongs to no single man...or woman. The gods created it; by all right, it belongs to them. Do not mock them with your false claim on this land." Still grinning, he watched her carefully, ready for her next arrow.

Glancing behind him, he saw many of his men watching him. He nodded confidently at them. If he was in any real danger, his men would know to come to his aid. However, he would wave them off, knowing that an honorable death was better than a surrender. Raising his sword defiantly, he stood strong, ready to avoid the next attack, keeping his eyes on both the man and the girl he had called Catalyn.
 
Her grin widened, "And you go against the gods then you damnable gutter crawling cretin! You mock them more so than I ever could with your swarm of wraith that trudge all over their lands, and destroying the mortals who live here and give them their rightful glory. I know exactly who you are General Harndir, your sword knows no morals as you've struck out against your own kind. You are exactly what the gods raise their voices over, the monsters from hell!" she hissed at him. She would have been a fool not to know this bastard, especially after the tales from her father and brother alike.

He made that other general look like a child's toy in comparison and that alone scared the living hell out of her.

"Lady Catalyn..." he gritted his teeth knowing that her words would just be thrown back at her. These wraiths wouldn't listen to anything they said, they would only believe what they were taught and it meant little to what she said now.

Drawing her bow back to collect the astral manna in the fore tips of her fingers, she rolled her eyes at this one. "You aren't even worth my breath, not even my arrow. A death for you would be too good and I will not even bother to stain my hands with your worthless life General. There is no reward on earth, heaven or hell for your head or blood alike." she kept her makeshift bow up but tipped her head back. "Draw back General Copel. If they want to destroy everything in their wake, let them. We have nothing to fight for here."

Blinking to her rather shocking twist, he could only nod to her. Tossing a strained look around, Krim dodged back quickly keeping his distance until he was capable of vacating the scene with ease. Springing upwards into the cover of the canopies, she used the cover of the forest to escape. They were not worth her time or effort, she didn't really know why she had come to that understanding but she had.

Dropping down from the trees when she felt safe enough, fingers combed back the bangs look sideways proudly to Krim as he had reverted into the familiar skin, he was staring at her in disbelief keeping a hand over the bloody wound.

"This war is finished. If they want Eathkar that badly, then we cannot fight them. As much as it pains me to admit it Krimzon, we cannot stand any longer. The wraith army will destroy as they please and we have no reserves to defend anymore. I highly doubt they will break through the shield as it is ancient manna we do not understand but there is no purpose for us to continue our story here."

"H-Holi what?"

"We are finished here permanently, time to leave Krimzon."

He blinked again, shrugging sluggishly before nodding slowly to her. Resolve pressed to her making it hard to understand but she had a point. They couldn't win and to continue to fight while most of their populace was safe in the barrier until whenever those monsters finished their weapon, there was no sense in them staying here. "As you wish Holi." He tipped his head to her, watching her cast off the pathetic looking bow trudging past him. Turning a final look to the forest, he sighed a little. Guess there was nothing left here anyways.
 
Harndir stood silently, a vacant expression on his face. The grin was gone from his face. He didn't much like that the elven girl had written him off like that, but he also didn't like that he was declined an even fight. It had been ages since he had been in a fight where his life was truly on the line, and now an elven girl had the gall to deny her what he'd been wanting for years.

"Damn cowardly elves," Harndir growled, he shadows receding. His eyes were the last things to return to normal, coming back to a dark brown color. Just as it had been ages since he had been in a decent fight, it had also been ages since he had been able to release his shadows fully. The last time had been when he had gone against what must have been a fourth of the elven army. That had been the only time when he had felt threatened enough to let his shadows release completely.

As soon as the elves had retreated, Harndir had returned to his tent, disappointed and slightly weary from his shadows. He wouldn't collapse like Linnor would, but he still would enjoy an early rest. Yawning as he returned to his work, he was soon summoned to a meeting with Linnor, Rochirion, and the Prince.

Linnor was already arguing with everyone by the time Harndir arrived and took his seat next to the Prince. "I will not leave! I've spent too long waiting for this to run."

The Prince cut in with, "There is no point in staying. The elves inside will starve to death sooner or later, and they have probably already killed all of your soldiers." As he brushed back strands of his light brown hair, he looked to Linnor levelly.

"We can't stay here longer than necessary. If all the elven soldiers here are caught inside, it's just a simple matter of gathering General Avarllon and marching upon the elven capitol. One thing i know for sure is that no one is getting in or out of Eathkar. The elves inside will die like the cowards they are," said Rochirion, looking regal in gold and green silks.

It was several more minutes of arguing before Linnor finally consented, standing up and leaving angrily.
 
Many hours passed, and Linnor was in his tent with Alais, packing up his things. He wasn't trusting any of his men at the moment; if one of them knew of what was to be done with him after the war, they may think to detain him until that time. In truth, he was scared. He didn't want to die, as much as he had once thought of it.

Alais sat upon Linnor's bedroll, watching the general with wide eyes. He didn't understand what was going on, and it was obvious that he didn't know what to make of the general. Occasionally, he would start to speak, saying, "Um..." or "Uh..."but he would never continue with his sentence.

Night soon fell, and Linnor was strapping his sword at his belt. He almost did the same with his dagger, but thought different when he glanced at Alais. Gesturing for the boy to stand up, he knelt in front of him, looping the sheath onto his belt. "Just in case," he explained, forcing a weak smile for him. With that, he straightened, and pulled on a dark cloak over his shoulders, fastening the starburst-shaped clasp.

Doing the same with Alais, giving him a dark green cloak with a leaf-shaped clasp, which trailed behind him a good foot and a half, he pulled the hood over the boy's eyes, hoping that it would be enough to hide the child's identity, at least for a while. Slinging his bag over a shoulder, he thought it over again, before finally setting it down on his chair. Just before he left the safety of his tent, he pulled his hood up.

Making straight for where the horses were tied up, he mulled over the intelligence in leaving. He couldn't let himself die, not as a war criminal. The only way he knew of getting out alive and okay was to run. Desert the army and the wraith people, and take up residence elsewhere. Perhaps the free cities of man to the west, where it was told that elves and wraiths lived together peacefully. He would be hidden there, and Alais would be safe. If the council heard that the boy was even possibly half-wraith, they would have him killed along with Linnor.

He would have to leave. Nothing could change his mind now.

Helping Alais onto his horse, he made sure the boy wouldn't fall off before swinging onto another man's horse, an older grey-colored one that no one would miss.

Pointing their direction, he was careful as they rode out of camp, watching for guards or anyone who might see them leaving.
 
They hadn't said much since they departed other than the fact that Krim had laid into her for her stupid brash decision. Which after time to dwell and think on it, she knew his truth.

The night lagged on as they headed back towards the area she had originally ditched, under his orders. Still set to go to the cavern city, she could only turn a slight eye up to Krim. He was tired, irritable and wounded but eventually he had calmed enough that walking with one another didn't seem like a life sentence.

Brushing aside some of the leaves that hung in their face, she paused to turn looking back at him. "Krim?" he grunted at her slowing his pace as she bit her lip. "Let's rest, namely you."

Not disagreeing with her, it left her rather surprised yet thankful for it. Finding a place to use a tree as a good place to leverage himself, she shook her head at him. "You're lucky you didn't lose an arm."

"Don't have to tell me twice. How many generals did they have there?" he lifted a single tired eye to her, confused by how she had know the second general.

Sitting down beside him, he leaned a little away unsure of her actions. "Apparently one too many."
 
As the two were riding into the darkness, Linnor had another moment. Was running really the right thing to do? Only cowards ran. He was supposed to be General Linnor Meryck of Gweysyth, third of his name. He was General Hellfire, a monster that haunted the minds of elven children. And he was running.

If he was to die, wasn't that fate? Was he cheating the gods if he escaped what they held for him? He stopped his horse, deep in thought. Alais kept riding, unsure of how to slow his horse. With a low whistle from Linnor, the horse stopped, turned, and slowly returned.

Linnor sat there for several long minutes, wondering what the gods must be thinking of him now. Coward, coward, coward, he thought, frowning to himself. Without letting himself lose his will to go on, he spurred his mount on, whistling again for Alais' horse.

Several hours passed before the two were able to see the elves. Wraiths had better night vision than elves, and Linnor was almost certain that the elves wouldn't be able to see either of them. Swinging off of his horse, he helped the boy off as well, unsheathing his dagger for him.

"Keep this in its sheath, hidden under your cloak. If someone tries to hurt you, pull it out and stick them with the pointy end. This is a very special dagger, too, so don't let it go to waste on the elves. If they try to take it from them, remember that it used to be my dagger, and before me it belonged to my father, and before him it was a king's dagger. It holds the power of all those who have used it, and it will help you when you need it." Forcing a smile for the boy, he ruffled his hair before replacing the dagger in its sheath.

Slowly, he lead Alais by the shoulder towards the elves. His heart felt like it was jumping into his throat, while his eyes betrayed some of the fear he was holding back. Soon, they were close enough that the elves could see them.

"Don't attack," Linnor said, keeping his voice low so that he may be disguised from the elves a bit longer. "We yield." Not wanting to startle them into attacking, Linnor unsheathed his sword. Walking forwards until they were closer, he planted he tip of the sword into the ground, letting himself fall to his knees behind it. Glancing at Alais, he gestured for the boy not to move, knowing that he was the one who wasn't part-elf.
 
Ears flicked and twitched forcing his half sleeping mind to awaken with such alert. They had been talking, namely scolding the other for their foolish tasks before she had mumbled off into slumber. He wasn't so inclined to do so but after so long without it, it was difficult not to.

He may have not had the best night vision out there, but his ears certainly helped that handicap. Sounded like hooves, not many but hooves nonetheless. Lifting his chin to peer through the night, it didn't take long before he heard the voice calling don't attack. That was enough to shake Holi up and out of her slumber, proving she wasn't nearly as deep as he thought. She was groggily though, enough that she heard the man, startling herself and pressing closer to him in a way that was easily saying, protect.

Narrowing his gaze into the pitch as the visions of a man and a young child came into view, his nose gave way to where this male was trying to disguise his voice. He gritted his teeth, forcing himself to his feet putting himself in front of Holi, "A sword means nothing in your hands Hellfire, and we both know even if we attacked, we would be at the disadvantage."

Holi rubbed at her eyes making a clueless hum to what had been said. He knew he was too tired to fight or even adequately protect himself or Holi but that didn't mean he wouldn't try. But why did this man who had been so crazed before now toting around a child? Something was strange in the air. "What business do you have here? If you think that I'll just hand over your prior prisoner now Hellfire-"

"Krim," Holi shook her head having gotten up off the ground as she placed a hand to him, causing him to stop short and look at her. "He yielded..." she pointed out what he heard, though she was easily weary about this entire thing. "He is all alone in the middle of the night with a child how far from the front," she was speaking low to him, "Something has happened."

Humming with her, he turned his glowering gaze to the man. "I repeat though, what is your business here Hellfire."
 
Linnor was silent the whole time the elf was talking, looking at his reflection in his sword in the dim light cast by the moon. Alais was silent, too, though much more fidgety. One moment, he would be fiddling with the clasp of his cloak, another he might be tugging at the hood of his cloak. He didn't seem to be calming down any time soon, and Linnor wished that he was able to calm the boy.

As the elf asked his final question, Linnor raised his head slightly. Refusing to look at him, he murmured, "I think it would be more honorable to die amongst enemies than friends. And," he sighed softly, his voice now barely audible, "I want to boy to live. Alais." Glancing at the boy, he gestured for him to remove his hood.

As the boy did, revealing his features, both distinctly elven and wraith at the same time, Linnor shifted slightly, his legs getting pins and needles. "Kill me if you will," Linnor said. "I can understand that there is no love between us and there must be some sort of glory to bring back my head. But get the boy somewhere where he won't be touched by the war. He...He won't be safe with the wraiths."
 
Wincing with the pain knotting in his gut from lack of well... everything, Krim gritted his teeth listening to general that struck terror and fear into so many elven hearts. Though his attention shifted towards that of the boy that apparently was named Alais, it was Holi that made the gasp of shock.

"He is a hevanic." he frowned a little though Holi seemed more incline to step forward as he lashed a hand out at her to stop. He had heard stories of wraiths and elves going together making children that were of both bloods but he had never seen it. They had heard the name hevanic in the elven tongue commonly meaning two blood, it was no way an insult.

Swatting his hand away Holi shot him an all too familiar glare causing him to growl at her. There was a time to be stubborn and stupid and this was not it. Again he dared a hand to keep her at bay, receiving a harder swat before walking past him. "Holi!" he sneered invoking her to wave a furious hand at him.

Striding her step over to step in front of the sword that he had put into the ground, she tipped sideways to look at the young boy her gaze soften before she did something he never thought she would ever do.

Offering a hand down to the general, Holi sighed. "What glory will come from you being slaughtered by a more dead than alive elven general and a tired woman?" she dared, "I never pegged you one to care about any child let alone one born with elven blood rich in his veins." she kept her hand extended to him showing that she was actually genuine in her moment, "The dirt is for the dead General, and you will not find that here. There is a reason you came this way and I doubt it was just for the Alais' sake, and you can be damn sure I want to know why."

"Are you damned woman?" Krim growled again at her before she rolled her eyes.

"Take five would you Krim, you aren't going to be fighting anything and I doubt the general would like to scare the living hell out of the child." She looked upwards to the skyline speckled with lights of stars, and if he did take her hand she would actually pull back to force him to his feet before releasing her grasp. If not she would only take a step back looking them both over.

Either way when the man was standing, Holi would tilt her head towards Alais before looking to the general. "When was the last time you and him were fed and with fresh water?"

Krim huffed before closing the distance between him, Holi and the two before he looked darkly to the general a sort of warning not to try anything funny.
 
Linnor was genuinely surprised when the elven girl approached him, reaching a hand down for him to take. In the darkness, his eyebrows raised a few inches, and he tried not to let his surprise show as she spoke the other down from his anger. Still, after a moment's prideful hesitation, he raised his hand into the girl's, and allowed her to pull him to his feet.

Alais watched them warily, his eyes wide and innocent as they could be. You couldn't tell in the darkness how old he was. The shadows of the night warped his features into something older. He looked as if his shadows had already come, and he was nearing an age where he could be in the wraith army. His shadows shouldn't come in for another few weeks, maybe a month, and even then Linnor wasn't sure how his elf blood would react with and change the shadows. Half-elves were rare among the wraiths. Most of the time, if one was found, they were sent away, to be killed or worse. The half-elves were rarely older than nine, and Linnor had never heard of a half-elf's shadows.

Tensing slightly as the male elf approached him, his hand instinctively reached for his sword, which he had forgotten was in the ground in front of him. Instead, he found the empty sheath at his side, and instantly felt an emptiness settle inside him. He was a general, and a general without his sword was hardly a general at all. Flinching as his hand found nothing, he looked to the elf with just as much challenge.

When he had regained his composure, he answered the girl with, "Several hours ago. I am fine, but I do not know about Alais." Upon looking to Alais, the boy shook his head before moving behind Linnor and clinging to his cloak.
 
Lifting a hand to stroke thoughtfully down the side of her face, she couldn't begin to fathom what reasoning the general had here of all places, and to be with a child as well, it was peculiar.

"Where... where is his parents?" she dared ask the general, which invoked a snort from Krim that decided he was going to put a bit of distance between himself and the man, not enough that something could happen but certainly breathing room.

Gesturing some to the wraith man that had held her captive, Holi hummed before she looked downwards to Alais tucking behind the general. "Has he not been socialized, in fact why is he with you? I if he is a half child then he should be in Navifer, I am not going to insult your intelligence general in the least, but surely that would be the place for him. Why bring him in the opposite direction of the cross city?"

She had never been to the place herself, too many rumours about it but she did know full well that it was the place of wraiths, and elves. Plus a few others species that lived in a peace that she wasn't sure any of them could understand. Tipping her chin up to look at the man, she frowned a little. "General... why are you here?" she motioned for him to take his sword up as she had no need for it and wasn't about to go hacking off anyone's head. He was not a prisoner to them and they were not to him either, at the moment they were in a truce of sides though cautious she wasn't about to be treating him beneath her either. Not like some had prior-

She dared a look again to Alais, before she would at least make a softer smile to him. "Are you hungry? We don't have much but I am sure Krim can go searching for tubers."

"I'm doing what now?"
 
"They...they don't know who his father is. His mother was the elf, but," he lowered his voice, "I think she may be dead." Silent as the elven girl spoke again, he answered her with, "He is shy. I...I took him with me because he has no one else. I know where he belongs, but..." He glanced back at the boy. "Alais belongs with me. My name means 'singer'. His name means 'flutist'. In my home, a singer is always accompanied by a flutist. Maybe I am reading too much into the gods of my people and our naming rituals and traditions, but wraiths believe that our name is as much a part of our destiny as our actions are." He frowned in the darkness, knowing that the elves might not understand the beliefs of his people.

Her last question addressed to the general was answered with, "I came because I am to be executed for war crimes after the war. I came hoping to die with some honor, among enemies, than by my king's headsman, kneeling before him and his council, to die on my feet rather than my knees." Taking his sword out of the ground, he sheathed it, before unpinning the General's Badge from the breast of his shirt. "Because I came, I am a general no longer." His last words were a murmur as he dropped the four-striped badge to the ground, looking down at it solemnly.

Alais jumped as the woman spoke to him, his eyes flying wide for a second. After a moment, he squeaked out, "Okay..." As soon as the words were out, he disappeared behind Linnor's cloak again, his hand reaching around to hold Linnor's hand.
 
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