Chapter Eight

"I've missed you as well."

He got a handle on Vil's cheek and leant in nearer. Under the padded leaves of an orchid tree, they shared a kiss, their eyes shut and psyches and states of mind interlinked.

"I believe you should come visit me sometime in the not so distant future," said Vil.

"Sure I will, what ought to tell your guardians?"

"Give them this," said Vil, giving Mey a brilliant coin. "That will quiet them down, just come visit me at whatever point you need. I wouldn't fret."

Once more, mey grinned and kissed, "as you wish,

my master."

"Farewell!" said Mey, riding back home as Vil left the woods, toward home bound. He thought back once again as he saw the carmine standards of the knights of Alinor blur into an ocean of haziness, stewing out like a far off dream.

Stepping the bowstring back with a profound

breath, his delicate copper cheeks brushing

against the goose feathers, Mey handled an

bolt right at the focal point of the scarecrow,

conveying what would've been a final knockout

had it been an unarmoured, living objective.

"Great job, sovereign," reverberations of applauding filled

the dormitory; Mey separated his vision to look

at the young lady resting on the wooden

point of support.

"Be quiet, no doubt about it."

"Goodness, is she?" her twin sister showed up out of

no place, "or is it something different annoying

you."

Mey drew a moan of disappointment, "Arial, Niall,

for what reason can't both of you simply let me be?"

"Since we are your partners, and we do

not believe our valuable ruler should get injured," said

Arial in an irritating voice.

Mey winced his eyes, "I needn't bother with

securing, I'm a fighter!"

"You're not," Niall laughed, Arial joining her.

"You're an innocuous little cat, what will you

bring down your adversaries with? Those small

arms?"

"You plainly haven't seen me in battle," Mey

answered, "have you perceived how I battle?"

"Battling? Is that what you summon it when you run with him, go into the profundities of the

forests, rest up against a tree, and trade

sweet words and kisses and blessed

That's what reactions like?"

Mey's face went pale with frightfulness. "You spied

on us?"

"Obviously we did, what do you anticipate that we should

do? We're ace scouts."

Mey brought down his head, "kindly don't tell

father."

"Obviously not, would have no desire to demolish the

science among you, particularly

since it's Ruler Vilyánur we're discussing.

I swear in the event that you were a lady, he'd have

hitched you off to him, the manner in which he takes a gander at the

stupendous centurion himself."

"Damn it, presently I get a handle on left." said Niall. "Spare

no subtleties. Tell me of him."

"Ruler Meneldir will do that for us," said Arial.

"C'mon, portray him."

"Fine," said Mey, tossing his head back.

"Well... he is tall and smooth and beguiling,

skin like snow on elevated tundra, his hair long

also, dark, smooth and velvety, hanging down

his courageous head and onto his flexible, agile

body, perhaps of the best hair I have at any point seen,

that as well: weaved with the many gems of

dream, his eyes sparkle like stars of light blue,

igniting with the voltage of his spirit through

the dig holes and out."

Both of them gazed mindfully, a deft

shimmer in their eyes. "How was the kiss?"

"This is my very first kiss so I can't come close,"

Mey answered, "yet it was wet and delicate and

warm, I felt like I was taking off through the

sky."

They screeched out loud. "You are one fortunate

sovereign!"

"Kindly don't," Mey mentioned.

"Fret not," said Arial, Niall proceeded, "we will not

tell anybody. Likewise, have you seen him without

his defensive layer on?"

"All things considered, once..."

"Let us know more," they requested.

"He has a lean edge with fight scars everywhere,

not exceptionally wide and etched yet not my level

either, yet notwithstanding that he's all's serious areas of strength for as

as a bull. It was a shock to see him wrestle

mythical being men bigger than him and beat the competition."

"That is required from an officer," Arial answered,

"they can stroll for three days in a row without

food or rest, nevertheless figure out how to overcome a

mathematically prevalent adversary in fight."

"They can?" asked Niall in, "dislike I don't

trust you, sister, yet that appears excessively

in any event, for a person of their true capacity. Indeed how do

they endure that way?"

"The high-mythical beings of the Minyär Family are tough

society," Arial replied, smiling at Mey, "don't

stress however, I have an inclination Ruler Vilyánur

won't make our ruler bear that work, not

at the point when they can stop around evening time to have a good time

by the pit fire."

Mey ogled, "devil produces, avaunt!"

Like a whirlwind wind, the two vanished,

Yet again abandoning Mey in the sleeping enclosure.

He dropped his bow and respited upon the

case, his hands covering his fatigued face. I

can believe them, he thought, they will not tell

father anything, perhaps I can utilize them to my

advantage as well.

"My ruler?" an old voice called from the lobbies

outside, breaking his dream.

"Come in."

In came Daeron, Mey's second-in-order,

ruler of his disarray trackers - the regarded

band of daemon-trackers known all through

the landmass. "What is it, sibling?"

addressed Mey.

"We really want to discuss something, 'tis a

matter of worry that I should gather over

presently."

"Lead me," he said, following Daeron to the

Office of Procedure. Five trackers stood

there, accumulated in a semi-circle around the table.

"My master," they bowed half.

"What news?"

"We explored the site of the meteor crash,

as you asked us to, my ruler, and even past."

"Great, what have you gained from it?"

"This was not the first, nor the remainder of them."

A bizarre trepidation cleared up Meneldir's eyes,

"have you insight about a greater amount of them?"

The disorder trackers focused on one another in

alert, turning around to him and gesturing

thereof. "100 miles south of accordingly,

about a month prior the emissary tells."

"How enormous was it?"

"As large as an elk, blackish blue with veins of

light green separating the skin, or so he says."

Mey ground his teeth with apprehension,

"shadow-generate, this is sick news to be sure."

"Furthermore, what do you think these represent?" a

tracker addressed.

"I don't have the foggiest idea yet," said Mey, "yet something

so fell, it would quiet the breeze regardless the

water as it cruised by, even cow the trinity of

nature under its unholy impact."

The others saw him in dread, "what would it be a good idea for us to do then, at that point?"

"Get ready," said Mey, "in two days, I will leave for my companion; before the month's over I will be back."

The gatekeepers gestured, "do you really want us to give you organization?"

"No, my great men, I don't, for my predicament is of most extreme mystery, thus the obligation stays that you too should be quiet, let bird nor monster know of this discussion, save for those in this circle."

"Perceived!"