Not everything is Dark and Light

Home (part 1)

The entrance to Veldin was grand with large gate blocked the path up and they were tinted with gold to give an alluring sparkle as the sun light twinkled against it. Guard stood atop mighty walls of stone adorned in the dark blue of the dark elf army regalia. The walls were large but they could not cover the sight of the castle in the far background with its highest spire almost reaching up to the clouds.

"Home." Nifeerein uttered breathily. She did not look like a queen with her crown missing, dress torn and her convoy nowhere to be found but as she approached the gates the guards on duty recognised her after a few confused stares.

"Lady Nifeerein." some called. "Our Queen." cried others.

Nifeerein, confidently and elegantly, waved to them all and bowed her head. Vuren, having never received such an entrance before, sat in his saddle awkwardly and twisted the reigns in his hand as a form of light entertainment.

Nifeerein had stopped just before the guard house and was discussing business with the dark elf in charge who wore a more pompous jacket the chest of which was adorned with several medals just above the left breast. Vuren scoffed at him, his disdain for monarchy coming into effect, but he stopped when he looked at Nifeerein. She was a queen yet whenever he was with her he never once thought of her status or standing. He dwelled on it for a moment before dispelling it from his mind as he remember her rejection. He just needed to finish this job and be gone. Delivery the queen safely then be off to a warm bed and a hot meal.

"Coming?" Nifeerein calls to Vuren as she begins to trot up through the gate on Agro escorted by several dark elves on horseback.

Vuren wordlessly follows spurring his horse on till he is beside Nifeerein. Turning round Vuren can see they are flanked by two other guards on horseback who glare back at Vuren with obvious distrust.

"What'd you tell them about me?" Vuren leans over to Nifeerein to ask as they veered up the hill to the main city.

"Just that you saved me. Why?" Nifeerein asked.

"Cause the pair back there are staring daggers into me."

"You're imagining things."

"My arse I am. I've been dealing with glances like that my whole life. They are not the trusting of me.”

"We don't get many visitors here. This is predominantly a dark elf only society. Don't take it personally."

"Don't take it personally." Vuren scoffed. "You ain't the one being death glared at."

"Like I said we don't get many non-dark elves here."

"And yet you're trying to be a more open society." Vuren's sarcasm was obvious. "How warm and caring you make it seem."

"Would you quit complaining? They are my guards and they do not know you. Their job is to be suspicious."

Vuren did not respond but sighed and looked out to see the city in its entirety.

The city was surprisingly quaint with the traditional elven architecture on the front gates being replaced with a more modern and pragmatic style for the inner city. The streets were all in grid-like format with the entrances to new alleys being kept clear by all around. The marketplace they emerged into contrasted this though as it was a bust and cramped nightmare. Stalls selling all kinds of assorted goods from flowers to bread, armour to meat were all pushed together competing for space. The townsfolk, who Vuren had been told were more civilised than the average village person, were pushing past one another in order to the best deals while to calls of the vendors drowned out the hustle and bustle of the civilians.

"Make way for the Queen." cried of the guards at the front of the pack who trotted forward a few paces from his colleagues in an effort to clear a path. The people, not wanting to be trampled, moved aside into whatever space they could. As Vuren passed he saw two young children use the distraction to grab some loose bread and he smiled at their intuition. Those were his people he told himself. Scavengers, ones that sit on the fringes.

Most dark elves did not take the guards announcement seriously to begin with as when glanced at Nifeerein and saw her sorry state they did not recognise their queen. It was only on further inspection did the first few elves begin realising it truly was their queen.

"Lady Nifeerein." "The Emerald Queen." "She has returned." were the first cries from the unexpected audience before more concerned mumblings came.

"Why is she back so early?" "What happened to her?" "Did she really talk to the light elf Prince?"

The questions of her people troubled Nifeerein and Vuren could tell. She did not show it but Vuren's sixth sense could understand her struggle.

"Just wait till they start asking who the weird human looking guy is." he leaned in and jested with her trying to lift her spirits. Nifeerein only acknowledge the joke with a shake of her head and a tut but Vuren knew he had succeeded in his goal. It was in that moment a pain shot through Vuren's heart. He felt so close to her in that moment but he knew he could not be again. The night they shared while special to him must have been nothing to Nifeerein. She was a queen set to wed a Prince of another realm. His feelings were a tertiary concern at best. His feelings for her would never be reciprocated and he just had to accept that. She has said so herself in the morning in the cave. He asked her and her lack of response was all he needed to know. The mission was nearly done and that is all Vuren cared about from that point.

One of the guards, a younger more spry sort, was tasked with pushing through the crowd. He was excelling at his job as he pushed forward trying to clear a path for his queen while also get to the Palace with enough time to alert Nifeerein's mother and father that their child had returned. The young man pressed onwards inch by inch as the people continued to clear way but as soon as he was free from the marketplaces tight grasp he rocketed off through the streets and onto the castle itself.

Poor street design Vuren commented to himself before realising the morbidity of it all. The streets were made that way purposefully to ensure the peasants were slaughtered first and the castle had more time to prepare. The cramped town square made it so hard to move through that any invading force could he easily picked off by a slew of well-aimed archers.

Morbid bastards Vuren now commented to himself before snapping back and continuing his trot forward.

As the squad exited the square Vuren looked back to see if the two elves were still glaring at him. True to his expectations the elves were continuing to stare daggers into him and did not relent even as he made eye contact. It irritated Vuren but it was something he was so used to that it did not trouble him. He knew if a fight started he could take the two elves with ease. If it was three elves then it would be tricky but two plucky guards coming in at from obvious angle, it would be easy.

"My parents will want to talk to you." Nifeerein told Vuren and they rounded the corner of the market and started gaining elevation on their way up to the castle.

"Why?" he asked confused.

"They will want to thank you."

"Yeah. Sure." Vuren grumbled knowing all too well that people do not thank him. It was his job to save people from threats, people never thank them for doing that. Vuren knew all his parents would do would be make an offhand half-hearted thanks before turning around and complaining about how he could have done better.

"Hey." Nifeerein tried to grab Vuren's attention quickly before they reached the hills peak and got to the castles grounds. "After I've settled back and explained everything maybe we can talk about us."

"Wait. What?" Vuren uncontrollably blurted out before the screams of an older woman drowned him out.

The older woman in question was dresses in what could only be described as excessive luxury with her dress being made of plush velvet that cascaded down her large frame and skirted the ground as she ran. Run would be a strong word to describe the awkward trot the woman had to do as he heels made for an inconvenient launch pad. Her hand, while covered by long gloves that matched the fabric of her dress, were covered in diamond rings on nearly every hand. The one on her right middle finger matched the one Nifeerein worn exactly save the older woman’s was a bit less beaten. Her face was showing age with some lines starting to show around the eyes and cheeks but they were faded away with some light powder that Vuren could not discern from a distance.

“Nifeerein!” she called with glee and a sense of dispelled fright.

“Mum.” Nifeerein called back as she dismounted Agro and ran towards her.

Agro, now free, took the opportunity to try and wander off back down the hill. Vuren grabbed at her reigns instead and pulled her along trying to stop her from being her usual curious self. As he pulled her Vuren looked back once more to see the guards flanking him continue their glare.

Nifeerein reached her mother rather quickly on her more appropriate footwear and the two collapsed into one another’s arms. Squeezing each other tightly Vuren watched as an older gentleman wearing a smart suit with a low neckline to allow his large Adam’s apple and flabby neck fat to bread while his well-groomed beard did not even graze the shirts collar. He approached the pair and Nifeerein wordlessly stood up and hugged his deeply too.

"What happened?" the bearded gentleman asked Nifeerein after a lengthy hug. He pushed her back to have a look at her as he did and shook his head at her dress. The older woman stood beside the bearded man and inspected her daughter but not before dusting herself down.

"It's a long story." Nifeerein began before turning to Vuren who was busy lightly cursing at Agro. "Vuren here saved me from a horrid light elf attack."

At that precise moment Vuren sneezed loudly and made an ugly convulsion with his face. Nifeerein's parents were less than impressed with him as they looked him up and down with a hesitant disgust.

"Thank you good sir." Nifeerein's father humbly told Vuren who took the gesture as a facade.

"Yeah. No bother." he grumbled as he pulled Agro forward into the parking position the light elf garrison had set out for him.

Vuren tried to play it cool. He did not want to give the royals the time of day but he sat there in conflict as he knew who they were and it be too stupid to fain ignorance on it. King Rego and Queen Loreth were known throughout the lands as the previous rulers of the dark elves and as monster hunter it was expected Vuren would know who they were. He could hear his sister's voice in his head telling him how to proper conduct himself in these standings and how to politely and respectfully gain money from them. Vuren knew his sister would be ashamed of him if he did not at least show some level of respect to the dignitaries so Vuren swallowed his pride and offered up a kinder response than he had initially shown. 

Dismounting from his steed which he was taking to calling horse in absence of an actual name and walked casually over to the trio not bothering to take his sword or kukri off. This affront to the safety of the queen and the royal family was too much for guard who were orbiting the royals and three of them dropped the pole arms they wielded letting the points drop just in front of his chest.

"Are you actually being serious?" Vuren bitterly moaned as he stared at the closest guard. "I've been riding up through the entire city and been with your queen for nearly a week. If I wanted to kill her, I would've done it already."

"Lower your weapons." Nifeerein calmly instructs them. "He's a friend."

Although she did not mean it as such Vuren winced at the comment as if the friend was a personal offence. Friend, as if that is all he was not her. Not guardian. Not protector. Not helper. Friends. As if they had blown past the informal acquaintance stage and went straight to friendship which angered Vuren. He had never felt love before but he felt a swelling in his chest whenever he saw Nifeerein but with every word she say he felt their distance grow.

“I was ambushed by a light elf group known as the Order of Ditum. They killed everyone, even Castagnoli. It was horrific.” Nifeerein’s speech was layered with regret and sadness. Vuren wanted to comfort her but their awkward relationship and the presence of her parents stopped him from doing so.

“From there I met Vuren and he helped me get back home. We dared not go to Ishimori after the attack, it was too risky. We decided coming back here would be safer. We can regroup and chart a different more secure path this time. Or better still meet in a secure mid-point to ensure neither side gets the advantage.”

“Still thinking of peace even after an attack.” Rego commented.

“We have raised our daughter well dear.” Loreth touched her husbands chest as she said it but did not take her eyes off her daughter.

“We will dwell on those matters later Nifeerein. For now let us get you settled, washed and fed. You must be famished.” Rego instructed Nifeerein.

“A feast. We were going to have one for your return any way so why not make it happen tonight.” Loreth followed on from him. She leaned over to signal to a servant who was waiting behind her and nodded. The maid understanding what Loreth meant immediately picked up her dress, curtsied deeply and rushed off to the kitchen to inform the staff there.

“You must tell us the whole story in great detail.” Nifeerein’s father pleaded to her.

“And to General Taylor also. He will wish to know of this light elf threat.” Her mother chimed in.

Pulling her towards the castle, Nifeerein held her ground. Vuren could tell by her face that she did not want to explain the events to her parents. He could tell by a glance the lingering trauma that was there. Her parents seemed the insistent sort, not the type to back down so Vuren decided it necessary to weight in his opinion is only to save Nifeerein from speaking on it anymore.

“Perhaps it best you done learn of such a depressing subject matter till another day. No need to sully the joyful atmosphere of your queen’s return with a sad story.” Vuren chipped in trying to save Nifeerein from confronting the traumatic past of Smitloft.

Nifeerein’s parent, seemingly offended that Vuren has spoken, took a moment to realised what he had said before each coming to the same conclusion.

“A good idea young sir.” Rego stated.

“Indeed. I am sure it is not a pleasant tale at all.” Loreth commented.

“No.” Vuren bluntly bite at them trying to make it as clear to them as he could the horrors they had seen.

A heavy sense of tension was left lingering in the air after Vuren’s comment where all four parties stood silently and stared at one another. Vuren looked to Nifeerein to see if she was OK with his actions but her face was obscured from his behind her long black hair. Her parents however could be seen clear as day and both seemed offput by Vuren’s commanding tone. They were the type that like to control conversation, whether that be known to them or not, so to have someone disturb that was a huge offence to them.

“Vuren making friends with the locals as usual I see.” A friendly and jovial voice commented from behind Loreth and Rego.

As the pair turned to see who it was Vuren recognised the shaggy brown hair and the well shaved face of Arbargin. The famous bard pushed his way through the grunting guards and joined the four while ignoring the hostile atmosphere around.

"You know one another?" Loreth tutted disrespectfully.

"Indeed we do." the bard chipperly sung as he slapped Vuren on the back. "Vuren here has been my inspiration for numerous of my muses. The Dragon of Ancel for example is ripped straight from Vuren’s own life."

"It is?" A sheepish Nifeerein asked as she pulled her head up. The fear over recounting her past horrors were still there lingering like a fire in the back of her eyes so Vuren quickly hastened the conversation onwards to ensure she was suitably distracted.

"Yeah. And I've yet to receive any royalties for it." Vuren sarcastically remarked. Despite being posher than your average sort Arbargin was as modest as they came. He wore flashy clothes but was the sort who would talk about anything to anyone. He was relatable and casual in a way most upper-class individuals were not. While they sneered at the general masses and pretended they were better than them Arbargin revealed in interactions with them. They were his audience and he needed them to love him and in turn his work but he did have a general joy in being around people. He was the type of man that took his energy from interactions with others while Vuren was staunchly in the opposite category who needed to time alone to feel at all energised. Despite his differences Vuren quite liked Arbargin and had spent a few memorable nights with him tearing up the town and drinking till the small hours.

"No royalties to pay. I have simply taken artist license to it." Arbargin said before stepping to the side of Vuren and graciously bowing towards Nifeerein who he smiled at with sense of friendly familiarity.

"My queen. We are glad that you are home." he said sincerely before turning to Loreth and Rego and giving them a curious now also.

“Vuren was it,” Loreth begun in an upbeat yet derogatory tone. "will you be joining us for dinner?”

Her obvious instance that he leave coupled with her instance on not saying that exact thing ground Vuren's gears. He hated politics for this very reason. It was all about saving face. All about deception. No one every said what they were truly thinking. Vuren equated it to his job where in his profession he could kill the obviously evil monsters but in politics the monsters needed to be fought with words, only trouble was every one of the foul breed were as rotten as the other so determining which was the monster that needed to be slain was a tricky one at best.

“I’ll just go. Get my own stuff in the city. Wouldn’t want to intrude.”

“Quite.” Loreth nearly blurted out as she tried to hid her distain for the man so different from her it was almost comical imagine the pair together.

“Vuren, not wanting to come to a feast. Why am I not shocked?” Arbargin jumped in trying to alleviate the tension that was rising once again.

“Being trapped in a room full of dignitaries I have nothing in common with who will either avoid or try to make awkward small talk with me all while wearing an uncomfortable and limiting suit to fain fanciness. Yeah, hard pass.” Vuren’s words were bitter as he eyed up Loreth who was curling her mouth in the corner in a snarl.

“Well we thank you for your kindness in saving our daughter. We would be lost without you.” Rego answered as he saw his wife anger building.

“Yeah. Enjoy yourselves.” Vuren said as he bowed towards the pair. Turning to Nifeerein he did the same but took his time doing so and eyed her up as he did thinking that it would be his last chance to do so.

“I’ll walk you to your horse Vuren. Want to talk to you about a few things.” Arbargin informed him as he wrapped his arm around his shoulders and practically pulled him along.

Arbargin dragged Vuren away from the volatile situation before it ended in a fist fight and when out of earshot started talking to him.

"Long time no see." Arbargin commented. "That is the problem with our professes though I guess. Takes us all over Ardon yet we've no home base for our friends to find us."

"Then what are you doing here?"

“I was asked to entertain the upper class for a duke's birthday gala, typical boring stuff. I have a few bars I'm playing in for another couple days before I travel east to Caloneta. You should come to my show, I'm performing tonight in a tavern. Place even has decent bed and good prices. We need to catch up in a place that is more suited to yourself. You know less chance of you getting your head lopped off in a bar than here.”

"I could. Need a drink anyway.” Vuren grumpily answered. “What’s with those pair anyway?”

"What? You mean Nifeerein parent’s? Their the former rulers. Monarch changes hands here when the eldest child becomes twenty-one. They may not be the official rulers of the country but they puppet Nifeerein all the time so they might as well be. And you decided to talk back to them. They don’t like that, especially Loreth. That woman is very aggressive in her assertiveness.”

"They're rich assholes." Vuren dryly told Arbargin while placing a hand in his sword pummel which had begun moving uncomfortable and banging at his hip.

“Whatever your opinion of them can you said it when you aren’t in ear shot of a guard under their employ that could kill you for disrespecting the crown.”

“I’ll like to see them try.” Vuren snarkily remark as the pair finally reached Argo who was busying herself by eyeing up a stallion nearby. “Diplomatic immunity and all that.”

“I feel like you just wave that around and hope it sounds confusing enough for somewhat to let you get away with things.”

“Pretty much. I no idea what it actually means so. Anyway, what bar you playing in and I’ll swing by." he grumpily muttered.

"The tales end." Arbargin confirmed. "South Side. Just past the large bank if you follow the main road." the bard instructed him with a curious look in his eyes.

"I'll meet you there. Not often I get to see you. Plus you can buy me a drink for my song."

"Be there by sundown and I'll buy you two."

Vuren leapt upon Agro who huffed slightly at needing to move again but ultimately conceded. Vuren, uncaring towards want his mare’s desires, kicked her into gear and got her moving desperate to leave the royals to themselves. Too many conflicting feelings contaminated the place with Nifeerein being caught in the middle of it. Vuren wanted it to be simple, fit him to turn round and express his feelings to her but he knew life does not work that way and life, especially for him, never worked out in his favour.