The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (9 page)

Flare was beginning to feel better, but he was still nervous about having to compete. “Thank you, sir. I appreciate you helping prepare me.”

“I hope that we can help you. But tell me Flare, how did you convince the king to allow you to come here? Did the princess help, or did you do it on your own?”

Once again the king's bored into him, almost daring him to lie. Flare was a loss on how to answer the king. He did not want to lie to him, but he also did not want to admit to disobeying his grandfather. “I, uh, convinced him myself,” was all he could manage. He immediately saw suspicion in the eyes of King Darion, and he decided that it was time to tell him the truth. “Henotairin, may I have a moment alone with the king, please?”

Henotairin seemed a little surprised, and looked from the king to Flare and then back to the king again. At the king's nod, he rose to his feet and excused himself from the room.

Flare turned back to the king, who was regarding him with a calculating stare. “Flare, I'm beginning to suspect that you are not telling me everything. What are you holding back?”

Flare took a deep breath, fighting back the rising panic. “Well sir, elven youth are allowed to choose their own way in life,” he started slowly, but the words came out faster and faster. “However, I was told that I would not be allowed to pursue my chosen path, and so I sort of ran from my grandfather’s wishes. Sir, I am not full-blooded elven, and therefore I have no place in elven society. I am begging you to please allow me to stay here.”

The king was still smiling, “You're going to cause me a lot of trouble. Undoubtedly, the elves will demand that I return you, and my own nobles will not like the idea of a royal elf in the guardians.” The king sighed again. “Tell me, did your mother agree to your leaving and joining the guardians?”

A brief surge of hope coursed through Flare, “She was scared at the very idea, sir, but she did give me her blessing.”

The king laid his head back against the top of the chair, thinking hard.

Flare sat quietly, praying under his breath to the elven goddess Silverti. He had come so far, he would hate to be turned back over to the elves now. The fear and anxiety were making him sick, that would be a way to meet a king, getting sick in his study. He swallowed hard and waited as patiently as he could.

Finally the king looked back up. “Flare, I knew your mother, and she was a caring and honest woman. For her sake, if not for yours, I will make a pact with you. I will allow you to take the entrance test, and if you are accepted into the guardians, I will allow you to stay.”

Relief washed over him like a wave; at least he had a chance to join the guardians. A smile started to form on his lips.

King Darion noticed the smile, and quickly continued, “But If you are not accepted, then you will agree to return to the elves willingly. Do you agree to my terms?”

Flare had a huge smile, as he accepted the king’s terms. “Sir, will I still get someone to help me?”

“Yes, but you will have to work very hard if you really want to get in. And once you get in, it will only get harder. Are you sure that you can handle this? If you are accepted, then you will be trained to fight, kill, and possible die for Telur. In battle, people are maimed and die horribly. Are you willing to kill or die for the people of Telur? Remember, most of the humans here in Telur will not accept you any more than the elves did. In fact, the resentment toward the elves is so strong; you could be at risk from the very people you are training to protect.”

The king’s last comment caught Flare off guard, and dispelled his earlier elation. He had expected some possible resentment from the human nobility and commanders, but he had expected to eventually be accepted by his fellow soldiers. After all, elves joined the guardians from time to time. “Are you saying that I might be in danger during the training?”

The king leaned back in the chair, and propped his head on his right hand. “Elves have served before, and are currently serving in the guardians, but none of them are elven nobility. I do not believe anything would happen to you, and if I thought there was any real danger, I wouldn't even consider your request to join. I believe that it will be fine, but you will need to remain on guard.”

Another thought occurred to Flare. “Sir, how will this affect human and elven relations?”

The king smiled a humorless smile. “Flare, there has not been a human allowed in the eternal forest in thirty years. I believe the only reason the elves keep an ambassador in Telur is so they can spy on us.” The king paused. “Since the fall of the elves, they have not had the power to wage war against the combined might of the humans. If the elves were to march on Telur, it would be their undoing. You see Flare, right now the humans are divided, and we frequently fight amongst ourselves. But if an elven host descends on Telur, it would unite the human cities in a fashion that has not been seen since the demon lord wars, some two millennia ago.”

Flare didn't like the sound of these words, the thought of elves fighting against Telur had not seriously occurred to him. The elves had not marched outside their forests in millennia. Although the elven troops had been marshaled and ready to go to war thirty years ago, but the human ambassadors had been dispelled, and the troops disbanded. He was intimately aware of this, since his birth had been the driving factor behind the near war. He knew that the elves were weak and that they couldn't wage war outside of their kingdoms, but he also knew that they were plenty capable of defending those very same forests. That thought troubled him, having fled the elven forests; resentment was the last thing that he wanted to feel toward his new home. Troubled, he held his tongue and said nothing.

The king paused briefly, watching Flare, “Now, what are we going to do with you?” Without waiting for an answer, the king continued, “How soon do you want to start preparing for the tests?”

Flare did not even hesitate in giving his answer, “As soon as possible, Sir. How soon can I start?”
A feeling of elation replacing the earlier melancholy.

“I know just the person. His name is Sergeant Wellmann, and he is one of our finest soldiers. I will contact him tomorrow.” The king paused a moment, smiling, “Now, unless you have some more surprises for me, I really must go now. It has been an interesting evening, Flare. I hope that you succeed in your endeavors.” The king rose to his feet, and walked around the desk, “I will send in the ambassador, I think you need to talk to him. When he leaves, I will instruct Nathaniel to find you lodging for the night.” He smiled at Flare, “Tomorrow, you will have an escort until Sergeant Wellmann is ready.” He stood looking into Flare’s eyes, as if searching for something. Finally, he spoke again, “Well, if there is nothing else, I must leave.”

“Your highness, I will do my best in your service.” Flare said, a small knot forming in his throat.

The king grinned at Flare, “I hope you make it.” The king turned and walked through the door.

Henotairin came back into the room. He looked expectantly at Flare, waiting for him to speak. Flare was slow to respond, and he burst out, “Well, what did he say?”

Flare tried to smile, but at best he managed a sickly grin. “He will allow me to compete for a spot in the guardians.” Flare took a deep breath.

“What is the matter?” Henotairin asked.

“I have not been exactly honest with you, Henotairin.
 
My grandfather did not give his blessing on my journey. In fact, he forbade it.” He was looking at the ground, feeling like he had betrayed an old friend.

When he looked back up, he was surprised to see Henotairin calmly regarding him. “I'm sorry. I lied to you and betrayed your trust.” Flare added.

Henotairin put his hands on Flare’s shoulders, “I knew that you were not telling me everything, but I did not suspect this. When you arrived, alone, obviously trying to avoid scrutiny, I knew that you were hiding something. I thought that perhaps you had left without the king’s blessing, but it never occurred to me that you would leave after the king forbade it. Why did the king forbid it? Did you make it your life choice?”

“I was not allowed to. I was told that I would not be allowed to leave if that was my decision, so I pretended to go on a hunting trip, and then I fled. But if I do not win my way into the guardians, then I will be forced to return.” Flare said quickly, the words tripping over each other they came out so quickly.

“If those are your options, I would urge you to make it into the guardians. I don't believe that you would want to return, at least for some time.”

Flare nodded, the lump in his throat had returned. “I will do my best, and the king said he will have a sergeant help me prepare for the trials.”

Henotairin seemed surprised, “He must have been impressed by you, Flare. He is showing you a lot of favor by assigning you a tutor. Do not betray his trust.”

“I won’t.” Flare hesitated a moment, before asking a question that was troubling him. “Henotairin, will you suffer because of this?”

Henotairin half laughed, “I do not think so. After all, I was just helping the king’s grandson.” His mirth slowly drifted away, “I can handle myself Flare, but you must watch yourself. Never lower your guard and always pick your friends carefully.”

“I will be careful, and Henotairin, thank you for your help.”

“Flaranthlas, I have done very little for you. I wish I could have helped you more.” He sighed and said, “I must be going now, but always remember to be careful.” And as if a thought just occurred to him, he added, “Flare, another thing you may want to do is be careful of to whom you divulge your identity. Elves are not popular among humans, and you could be in physical danger.” He paused briefly, “Well, good-bye and
may
fortune smile on you.”

Flare watched Henotairin leave, feeling a profound loneliness.

A few moments later, Nathaniel entered. “Sir, I am to escort you to a room, for the night.”

Flare was led deeper into the palace, through several long hallways, and up two flights of stairs. The block hallways were relatively unadorned, which led him to think that this was the more rarely used part of the palace. The lighting had gotten dimmer, but he hardly noticed. He was much too nervous to more than glance at his surroundings; he kept contemplating having to return to the elves. As he thought of facing the elven royalty, he felt a renewed sense of determination to win his way into the guardians.

He was so deep into his worrying, that he almost bumped into Nathaniel when the young guard stopped.

“Sir, this will be your room for tonight. Dale here, will guard the door, and be your escort if you wish to leave the room.” Flare had not even noticed that the second guard had followed them. “Have a good night, Sir,” Nathaniel said, walking back the way they had come.

Dale took up his position next to the door, and Flare went in. The room was austere in its decoration. The walls and flooring were made of a grey block, with about half of the floor covered by a reddish-brown, oval rug. The bed was along the wall to his left. There was a small window in the far wall, which was covered by dark brown curtains. There was also a small dresser and chair in the corner to his right. Also to his right, was a closed door, which upon further inspection led to a small
bathroom.

Whether, because of Flare having already slept in the afternoon, or due to the fact that he was so nervous, he took several hours to fall asleep.