14 Chapter XIV

Grykail walked up to the gate, climbing off his horse and urging Cerci to follow his lead as they arrived closer. When they reached the gates, Grykail's tall form loomed over the guards. His raven-colored hair flowed over his shoulders, and his deep ruby-colored eyes looked down at the human soldiers. Cerci looked like an angel compared to him. Grykail gave the men a small smile, "I am King Grykail, from the Kingdom of Galana. I was sent to cure the poison that plagues your lands." Grykail paid no mind to what the soldier's said, he cared not for their words. He was pleased when he was led through the gate, with Cerci close behind he walked behind the gates leaving his horses behind. When they were needed they would come.

Not too long after they walked through the gates they were met with an attendant. The attendant mumbled some awkward welcomes before explaining that he was taking them to the king. Grykail nodded at this and looked at Cerci. Cerci curiously gazed around the human lands. He wasn't nearly as tall as Grykail but was tall just the same. His long hair and frail features made him look more feminine than masculine. He trailed behind his lord with curiosity etched into his features. As they passed by attendants, Grykail made no move to hide his disinterest, but Cerci smiled politely bowing his head to each person. He wasn't against the peace, he saw no need for the wars to continue. Cerci had lost his family to the war and had no plan to continue to lose his people to pointless wars. He had joined Grykail's mages in order to find a way to secure peace. And now that time had come.

It wasn't long before they reached the King's study, the attendant knocked on the door and soon enough they entered. Grykail walked in behind the attendant Cerci in tow. Once the attendant left Grykail bowed his head to King Alistair giving a small smile. "Greetings King Alistair. It is a pleasure to make acquaintance, though under unfortunate circumstances. This is my assistant Cerci, we are prepared to extract the shadows that plague your people. Please lead me to them."

King Alistair was putting his quill to the parchment, writing a response to King Blaric;

To Peace and Prolonged Prosperity,

Do not apologize for having graced even a single letter from Lord Delafontaine, he has that effect on everyone and anyone. I would apologize on his behalf, though I assume it'd mean much better in person and from his Lordship's own mouth. I must admit that I'm surprised he even wrote to you, though I believe it will be his last personal letter towards you—Pierre will likely only respond to business letters after the summit.

Aye, they have sent me word of his arrival at the borders. I assume

Knocks sound out from his door, prompting the old ruler to place his quill down and cover the letter with a book. In walked two Elves; one small and one tall. He could only assume one of them was Lord Grykail, and as if reading his mind, the taller one introduced himself, along with the smaller one being his assistant. The King stood, straightening out his robes as he did so, "Welcome to my Kingdom, Lord Grykail. I hope all has been to your expectations, but I must ask you to wait a little longer. I received word hours ago from both Noble Houses that they were riding on horseback and carriage at the highest speeds by either animal." He gave a slight smile, "While you wait, would you wish for a room to be prepared for your…procedures to be done?" He asked in a polite tone.

The entourage that escorted the Elves into the castle was stationed outside King Alistair's study, watching for danger and lurking wanderers. More of them being from the higher ranks rather than the usual Royal Guard that guarded the castle during the day and night. Here, it couldn't be known that Elves were let into the lands before the treaty was even agreed on either side. Though this was more of an important matter, it didn't matter to those who opposed this upcoming treaty—and likely peaceful era.

On horseback, Colby Beaumont was in front, behind him a larger soldier donning the Delafontaine Insignia on his chest plate. The Soldier has the reigns in either gloved hand, yells, and whipping are all but muffled to the sick heir's ear. He was struggling to even look, only to have his eyes roll back into his head again. The black ichor escalated throughout the night. It was growing aggressive since his run in with that octopus-like creature living in Black Lake. It consumed his arm whole, making its way into his neck and likely brain.

The other heir of Blackburn was riding by carriage. He was constantly having his head swiped away by a handkerchief. His own symptoms were unique, the Doctor travelling with him was given a medicinal drink of sorts. The Blackburn's held this knowledge in secrecy that there was a way to stave off the poison long enough to cure it—if possible. Though the medicinal drink only felt like the sick male's veins were on fire. His cries and yells could be heard, he was mumbling incoherent words beneath his breath.

"Just a little further, young Master." Dr. Emerson said, dabbing a cool cloth across his forehead.

Their carriage was rumbling carelessly against the cobbled road laid out, the main road heading towards the Kingdom of Lennox. Before either heir departed from their posts, a letter arrived to be read in secrecy. The Elves had the cure, they've always had the cure. Though the Doctor was grateful, the Elves held the cure, he could only wonder how much more medical knowledge they held. Emerson was among the human population that wanted to see the peaceful era, to see the discrimination end—and perhaps, the walls to be torn down.

Grykail smiled, "Everything is to my imagination and as grand as hoped, no worries. A room would be nice, if possible as far from listening ears. The sounds will not be pleasant and it is a sacred ritual, I only wish the physicians to be present during this." Grykail's face held a serious glaze as he spoke.

"The procedure itself would take around two hours. Though I ask that we not be disturbed, and no one is around. I will move as quickly as I can. I am all too aware of how this darkness spreads...My late wife succumbed to the darkness many years ago, we had reached her by the time it was too late. May I ask how long they have been afflicted with suck shadows?" Grykail looked at Cerci who was quiet the entire time, the boy had bowed his head in respect to King Alistair but had made no sign that he would speak. Grykail placed a hand on the boy's shoulder and moved him so he would stand beside him.

"This is Cerci, my most skilled mage. I assure you we will not harm your people. We look for peace, especially Cerci. I am not sure of how much My dear friend Blaric has told you about our magic. But Cerci can give you a brief explanation."

Cerci looked at his lord in mock horror, he had never spoken to a royal other than Grykail himself, and even then Grykail had treated him more as a son than a student. Cerci nervously turned to King Alistair before bowing his head again and speaking. His voice was light and shaky as he spoke.

"K-King Alistair, if I may. We dark elves, as you call us. S-specialize i-in healing magics. Y-yes some in the past have divulged in the d-dark arts. But-but we use them for the good of the people. T-the darkness in your land- it-uhm- well its essence can be extracted, for it is a living virus. Rather than a curse- it feeds on it hosts and then spreads itself once the host is-uhm-of no use to it. The cure is from-from all four nations magics. Combined it has healing properties that one magic alone cannot sustain. Mixed with herbs and well, your own human will is usually enough to fight it." Cerci cleared his throat and shuffled his feet feeling overwhelmed.

Alistair nods, "Ah, there's going to be one with the Blackburn heir. Dr. Emerson has been keeping a close eye on him. There's been a way to stave off the poison though I'm not sure how." He says as he calls for his butler, who emerges from the shadows.

"Yes, My Lord?" He bows his head to the guests as well.

"Take them to the infirmary wing. I believe there's an old room not in use. Make sure no one talks about this. Not even the servants. Don't want them to get spooked now." He ordered.

The Butler nods, "As you wish. Whenever your Lordship and his apprentice are ready to leave. I shall wait outside the door." He says, turning to leave the room and wait outside with the guards. He relayed the information to them as well. The corridors were immediately cleared out as the Elves and Alistair continued their talk.

"I am most sorry about your wife's passing, Lord Grykail." Alistair meant it, he couldn't imagine himself living without his own wife. His hues flickered from the tall Elf to the smaller one, who was meek and shy, by the looks of it. Alistair offered a warm smile, placing a warm, comforting hand on the male's shoulder, and squeezed.

"Thank you for coming to my lands, Cerci. I know it must be out of your comfort zone. I promise no harm will come to your Lord or you while under my care. It would look bad on my resume to King Blaric, no?" He half-heartedly joked, letting his hand fall to his side once more.

Grykail nodded to King Alistair at his sympathies and watched as Cerci spoke. Cerci jumped at King Alistair's hand but was grateful for his joke and let out a smile and small chuckle. "O-of course Your Majesty." Grykail looked to Alistair and nodded his head once more, "We should take our leave to prepare. I will send word once we are done. If you wish you may prepare yourself for the summit, we should be finished by dawn." Grykail excused Cerci and himself before walking out the door. He allowed the butler to lead him to a room, noting that there was no one present thankfully. When they finally reached the room Grykail turned to the butler and thanked him before closing the door.

The room had a bed and for that he was thankful, Cerci began removing the items from their bags and placing them on a table close to the beds. Grykail helped Cerci place a blanket over the bed, a white sheet to protect the bedding. Grykail opened a small bag filled with herbs and placed it around the edge of the room, it would prevent the ichor from leaving the area once extracted. Cerci placed a bowl on the table and filled it with water before pouring a blue liquid on it placing two rags beside it. Once they had finished setting up Grykail sat and waited for his patients to arrive. Once the doctor would arrive Gryakil would look at him.

"Please quickly place the patients on the bed. There is no time to waste."

��Okay," Alistair spoke, watching the elves excuse themselves from his study and out into the corridor. After they left, he turned back to his letter, taking a seat to resume what he barely started before being interrupted.

Forgive me, but I've lost track of what I was going to write. Lord Grykail and his assistant, Cerci, have just dropped by my study to greet me. I observe that I might just be shorter than the average elf if they're all as tall (and handsome) as his Lordship, Grykail.

I assume this will be my last letter sent out to you after this. Grykail has informed me that the procedure will take a few hours at most. The sooner we can hold the summit, the sooner we might quell the darkness that plagues my lands.

He's interrupted again. He grunts at the knocking. In comes, his messenger, bringing a parchment with a royal wax seal on it from the Commander. Alistair offered the boy a kind smile, taking it from the platter, and dismissed him back out to his duties. He broke the wax seal, his face growing grim at the unfortunate news. If it were out that far, Alistair didn't want to think of how much the plague has spread. Saying a quick prayer to the Goddess, he picked his quill back up'

I might add that the plague may have already spread further than what I initially thought from the Haunted Forest. For this proposal, I'm quite glad I accepted now that I require your expertise in handling this delicate and dangerous matter.

My letter will be short. My duties have been interfering with writing back to you. Though I imagine I won't have to worry about it once we exchange pleasantries in person. And congratulations on having a grandchild. I've also received word from my other children, four out of seven will attend the summit. The other two are out on expeditions and sweeping the lands with the Royal Lennox Army. I hope this does not offend you, that two cannot attend. In time, I believe you'll have the opportunity to meet them.

I look forward to our meeting.

With Great Regards,

King Alistair Lennox

As soon as he set his quill down, he rolled the parchment up and had it sent out. His duties would've interfered with him writing back a response. Alistair barely had the chance to pick up the book he was reading from earlier when another platter of parchments came in. He let out an inward sigh, placed the book off to the side, and started reading them over. The duties of a King were with great responsibility, burdens, and…a never-ending headache, it seemed.

Outside the castle, a carriage is bumbling down the main road, almost wrecking a few times as they pull up to the golden gates outside the castle. Presenting a formal seal to the guard had the carriage stroll on the rest of the way through without interference. When the Delafontaine soldier came galloping on through with a sick man, the gates immediately open. Wearing the insignia alone meant that it was an urgent matter. At the same time, both sick males were hoisted up the stairs—the Blackburn heir had the help of one of the Lennox Guards—and into the castle. The Butler that showed Grykail to the prepared room in the infirmary was back at the foyer, directing the soldiers through a series of corridors.

Colby vomited just outside the infirmary door, black blood came out. The Beaumont Heir looked worse than the Blackburn heir. The Butler had some servants clean it up while he continued to direct them into the prepared room. Coming in after knocking twice, they couldn't stall any longer. A second bedroom, a cot, had been placed beside the other bed that was already stationed in there. The Soldiers laid them on either bed and left without inquiries. Though they were curious about elves being in the castle when the treaty wasn't even signed.

"No one will enter or leave the infirmary wing for the time being." The Butler relayed the information, saying it would be closed off to prying eyes. None of the servants would come in or out, only he would help serve them—if they needed it. "I will be just outside if you need anything please let me know right away. I wish to make your visit as comfortable as possible for all our guests." He did a deep bow before closing the doors behind him.

Colby started lurching, threatening to vomit again. He leaned over the side of the bed and did so. More black ichor came sprawling out of his mouth, redecorating the marble floors with a fresh paint job. He slumped back into the bed again. The black plague was already on his neck, the tendrils could be seen working its way, slowly, up to his cheek and jawline.

"I fear we have little time left for Colby. I've managed to stave off the plague from my own patient." The Physician spoke, doing a sheepish bow and introducing himself, "I-I'm Doctor Emerson. Please do all that you can. I will help with whatever you wish me to do."