The Price of Peace

C

Celest

Guest
Original poster
Prelude:
Through the generations, two nations have been at war. The citizens have become use to the emotional turmoil caused by losing loved ones in battle. Supplies of spears, armor, and swords, were running short. After awhile, it reached a point where neither nations knew why they were fighting anymore, but they still continued to fight.This war had originally began because the king of Jastra sided with the dark Lord Strohm, and aided him in spreading darkness over the land. King Rolim of Cilivren did not want evil to become victorious, so war was waged.

Several years later King Rolim's wife gave birth to a beautiful baby girl, Alavara. When the king held his daughter for the first time, was the moment when he realized how much value life really had. From that moment on he would strive to end this war. He finally decided he needed to travel to the dark kingdom and offer the thing he loved the most, his daughter. He promised the dark king that on the eve of her seventeenth birthday, she would be delivered to him. King Rolim did not know how his daughter would be used. He did not know if the other king would place her with the rest of his concubines, or leave her pure for his son.
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Alavara looked at herself in the mirror as her mother placed an intricately designed silver tiara on her head, causing a big contrast against her long dark red hair. Her honey colored eyes shimmered with tears. Not wanting to appear weak in front of her mother, she quickly blinked away her tears. Nervously, she ran her hands over her hunter green dress embroidered with brilliant designs in silver thread. "Stand my daughter," Alavara's mother said softer. Her mother slipped a velvety black cloak on her, the hood covering her pointed ears. "I promise Alavara, your life will improve. I am sure you will be treated well." Her voice cracked and she turned away from her daughter.

Seventeen was far too soon to lose a daughter. Everywhere she looked, memories of her daughter flashed before her eyes. It felt as if only yesterday she took her first step, garbled her first word, an realized the brilliance of Cilivren's forests. Now, her daughter stands before her, dressed as if she was about to be married, but in reality, she was being sold for peace.

Her thoughts were disturbed when a pair of guards walked in. "Alavara, you must go," one of them said. She nodded and softly kissed her mother's cheek. "Do not fret mother," were her final words before she left her home. A guard assisted Alavara onto a white stallion, the black cloak causing a beautiful contrast against the white coat of the horse. She was escorted through the night to the dark kings castle. Bowing her head, she allowed tears to flow. Her mother claimed that her father loved her, but he gave her away, nor did he bid her farewell. Her thoughts were cut short when a guard shouted "Your offering of peace is here!" Now, they had to wait for a response.