✦[ Chapter Fourteen ]✦
After several hours, Martin finally reached the Queen—and the sight before him was beyond anything he had imagined, beyond anything he could have ever foreseen.
He had dedicated his life to Wisteria, and what he saw now was the very horror of fate itself.
Widespread destruction, the traces of smoldering fires and magical strikes on the walls—he recognized them as Viserys' doing.
He hurried inside, only to hear one of the soldiers calling out:
"Sir! Sir!"
"What happened here?" he asked.
"We were attacked by the elves and some of the highwaymen. They were incredibly strong, but Viserys stood against them—fighting on the brink of death—and defeated them all. Yet at the last moment, while I was standing at a distance, paralyzed by terror, a sword descended from the sky toward Viserys. It was the sword of the First Minister, Fairndil Altherion—that legendary figure we read about in the books. His form, his aura… everything was as described."
He took Viserys and the young master Idian with him.
In a heavy tone, Martin asked:
"And Rosaria… where… where is she?"
"Sir, she is in her room. She refuses to come out or speak to anyone."
Martin rushed to the room. Upon opening the door, he found Rosaria in a corner, silently crying, screaming without sound, as if all the pain of the world had fallen upon her.
In a gentle tone he said, "Rose."
She replied:
"You came too late, even though I warned you not to go… you went, and this is what happened."
"I will fix this. I will find a solution," he said.
"A solution? Your son will be enslaved, and most likely Viserys will be killed. If only you had seen what he did for us… if only you had seen how strong he was—a brave knight who never left me and Idian for a moment…"
"Viserys is brave. Idian is a strong boy. They will endure a little longer."
She wept, saying:
"Martin… I curse the day I was born. If only I had magic to defend my son and the kingdom, I would not have left Viserys to bear all this burden."
"Do not blame yourself. The fault is mine. I did not expect the war to be declared this way. I was foolish, ignorant… ridiculous, even claiming to be wise. But I will carve my path. I will march toward them. I will ravage their lands and take their lives, to show them hell itself…"
In the heart of the Elven Kingdom, where nature took its sacred forms, the colossal palace stood tall, surrounded by towering trees, its walls adorned with rare flowers as if they were part of the living fabric itself. The air was thick with ancient magic, evoking majesty and immortality.
Suddenly, the sky split open, and a shadow descended swiftly, landing gently on the ground. It was Fairndil Altherion, carrying three bodies: the Fourth Minister, Viserys, and Idian.
An elf soldier immediately stepped forward, kneeling respectfully:
"Sir, the king has been asking about you."
Fairndil's face curved into a mocking smile. Coldly, he said:
"Apparently, he cares about me very much. He should have worried about this ragamuffin instead."
He gestured toward the Fourth Minister with disdain, then turned to the soldiers to ask:
"Where is Ikbert?"
One of the soldiers replied:
"In the Lorithian Forest, sir."
In a stern tone, Fairndil said:
"Take this one," he said, indicating Idian. "Place him in one of the dungeons under tight guard…"
Then Fairndil moved with lightning speed toward the Lorithian Forest, carrying Viserys and the Fourth Minister. In moments, he arrived.
The forest was filled with massive green trees unlike any other known in the world—called the Vindrasil trees. They grew nowhere else and radiated dense, pure mana magic…
He walked a little until he saw someone:
"Ikbert! You are here!"
"Sir," Ikbert bowed respectfully. "It has been a long time since we last met."
"Indeed, Ikbert. I would not have troubled you were it not for what happened," he said, pointing to what he carried.
Ikbert froze, then lunged toward the Fourth Minister.
"Alphanor! What has happened to you?"
Fairndil said:
"There was a battle between him and this human," gesturing to Viserys.
Shock spread across her face. She knew the Fourth Minister was no easy foe, and that he was among the elite of the elves. Yet what shocked her more was that he received such injuries from a mere human.
"Do you want me to heal Alphanor? But why bring this human here?"
"I need you to treat him as well. I need him. Can you do it?"
"Of course, sir…"
Fairndil departed while Ikbert examined the injuries of the Fourth Minister and the knight Viserys. She looked at Viserys, astonished:
"How does he still live despite all these injuries? This stab"—she pointed to the wound inflicted by Aiber the Tall—"was not caused by Alphanor, but by another. Could it be that this human faced another enemy alongside Alphanor and inflicted all this damage?"
She added:
"I will heal them immediately before death catches up, and with words barely audible, as if casting a spell:
'Moonlight and the sacred ocean, sunlight and eternal fire.
Pure flower, fall in peace, the healing is present!
Suddenly, a large circle formed above the Fourth Minister and Viserys. Their bodies were lifted off the ground as Ikbert cried out:
"Vindalis Elowindra!"
A soft green light swirled around them, then parted to take the shape of a massive phoenix. The phoenix soared until it vanished from sight, then plunged downward, striking both bodies.
Suddenly, all their wounds vanished, as if Viserys had never wielded a sword or fought a foe with his entire life. On the other side, the Fourth Minister's body seemed fully restored—even the arm he had lost reformed, stronger than before.
It was the power of the Second Elf Minister—the woman known as Hand of Light, wielder of healing magic. She was a figure highly respected by the Elven King and all the inhabitants of the kingdom.
Ikbert ordered some soldiers to take the Fourth Minister to his chambers, while others were commanded to bring Viserys to the First Minister, Fairndil ...