"My friend, you cannot be serious about simply walking through the gate," the shorter man scoffed, shaking his head in disbelief. He raked a doubtful hand through his wind-tousled brown hair and glanced at the blond rider beside him, slowing his silvery-gray horse to a trot.
"Why don't we try my plan instead?"
"You mean the plan where we slit the guards' throats, butcher every soldier inside, and set the fortress on fire?" the blond man asked, raising a brow. Marcus burst out laughing at his companion's disapproving look.
"As you wish," Marcus said, lifting both hands in mock surrender. "But admit it—my suggestion would be far more entertaining. They are only humans, after all…"
They rode in silence for a minute through the unnaturally quiet forest. Even the trees seemed to whisper that they were not welcome here. And although the blond man's expression was one of unwavering determination, he could not silence the question looping through his mind:
What in the world are we doing here?
Their plan had been simple: avoid trouble all the way to their destination, keep out of the path of every living thing—human or animal. Nearly a thousand years had passed since any elf set foot on human lands, and not without reason.
The war between the two races, fought roughly a millennium ago, had left scars too deep to heal. Entire elven houses had been wiped out by human greed, and the people of nature had never forgiven them. Since then, the elves had lived in strict isolation on their own continent; humans spoke of them only in old legends. Among the elves, however, many still lived who had witnessed the massacre. Crossing into human territory was strictly forbidden—anyone who disobeyed was branded a traitor and exiled forever.
But Dorian's father had broken the thousand-year silence. He sent a messenger to the human king, announcing that two envoys would arrive in peace for negotiations. The king's condition was simple: the envoys were to speak first with his most trusted man—known among the people only as the Baron. Only afterward would the king decide whether negotiations should continue.
And so the two riders came with the intent of seeking out this favored nobleman of the human realm. They had to reach an agreement with him—no matter the cost. That was their most important task, and Dorian had sworn he would not be swayed from their goal. He would do anything.
Or almost anything.
After all, this wretched race had nearly wiped out the elves once before. How much more cruelty were they expected to endure? Humans deserved death for what they had done. In truth, Dorian would have gladly come here with that very purpose in mind.
"You're making that face again, Dorian," Marcus said with a grin.
"And what face would that be?" Dorian sighed, eyes fixed on the trees ahead.
"You know… the same one you made right before you broke that young soldier's nose, because—"
"Shhh," Dorian hissed, raising a hand. The horses halted instantly—as if they, too, understood his command. Both men scanned the trees in tense silence.
"We're not alone," Dorian murmured after a few heartbeats. Soft but distinct footsteps sounded not far away. He turned his head just in time to catch a flash of red in the distance.
He spurred his horse forward in a burst of speed, Marcus thundering after him as they gave chase to whoever was spying on them.