Page 37

Ruith

T he Assembly Hall vibrated with an energy I had never felt before. Rainbow light scattered across the marble floor from the ancient windows, painting the space where I had faced trial for treason mere days ago. Now I wore ceremonial robes of deep plum, the Starfall color that had once marked rebellion transformed overnight into the emblem of legitimate rule.

Fragrant plum blossom branches and winter lilies adorned the chamber, their scent overwhelming the lingering smell of battle that still clung to the city. Representatives from all twelve clans occupied their traditional seats, faces ranging from enthusiastic support to carefully masked resentment. There were some new faces, but not many. While my political allies held the majority, I would find no easy passage of laws in that chamber. Good. A king served best when he was challenged. I intended to be a king for all the people, not just those who supported me.

The galleries overflowed with observers, both elven and human. Among them, I spotted Elindir in the front row. He smiled proudly and leaned over to whisper something to Leif, who sat beside him. Torsten scanned the chamber, absorbing everything with that quiet intensity of his.

"Let the Assembly rise for the ascension of the true king," the Herald announced, his voice carrying throughout the vast chamber.

I fought to keep my face impassive as the Herald approached, bearing the ancient scepter of kingship on a cushion of midnight blue. It’d been forged by the first kings, simple in its make, but perhaps more powerful for it.

The Herald paused before me, his face solemn with the weight of tradition. "Ruith Starfall, who has completed the sacred hunt, who bears the ritual markings and has been tested in blood and fire, who has been chosen by our people to lead them into a new age. Do you swear to uphold the ancient laws while forging new paths of justice? To defend the realm and all who dwell within it? To rule wisely and justly in service to the people of this realm?"

"I swear it," I replied, my voice steady. "By my blood and breath, by the stars above and the earth below, I swear to serve the realm and all its peoples."

"Then by the authority vested in me by the Assembly of the Twelve Clans, I name you Ruith Starfall, the First of His Name, King of the Elven Realms, Protector of the Yeutlands, and Defender of the Ancient Tribes."

I took the offered scepter, testing the weight of it. It was perfect, even more natural in my hands than a sword, perhaps. The Assembly hall erupted into applause. I raised my hand, and the silence gradually returned.

“Thank you for the faith you have placed in me,” I began. “I beg patience from the chamber as I fulfill the first of many promises made.” I turned back to the chamber entrance and beckoned. “Taelyn Wolfheart, come forward.”

Murmurs rippled through the assembly at that, some approving, others wary. I continued, my voice gaining strength.

Taelyn entered the chamber in a dress of storm gray and silver and knelt before me.

"Lady Taelyn Wolfheart stood with me when others faltered. She lent her wisdom to our cause when it seemed most hopeless. She fought alongside our warriors and guided our council with steady hands." I extended my hand toward her. "It is my honor to name her not merely consort but equal ruler, Queen of the Elven Realms, with full authority to command in her own right and with an equal voice in all matters of state."

The Herald brought forth a second scepter, this one slightly more delicate.

"Do you, Taelyn Wolfheart, accept this symbol of rulership and the duties it represents? Do you swear to rule with wisdom and justice, to protect our realm and all who dwell within it?"

"I do so swear it," she replied, her voice carrying throughout the hall. "By my father's memory and my own honor, I will serve our people faithfully."

I took the scepter from the pillow and knelt, presenting it to her. She took it with a smile and the assembly applauded, though I noted some exchanging glances of confusion. There would be questions, and many tests in the coming days. Some that would see Taelyn and me at odds, no doubt. But whatever came, we would work through our differences for the good of the realm.

"The first decrees of our joint reign are as follows," I announced, standing. "Let them be recorded in the archives and proclaimed throughout the realm."

The Herald stepped forward, parchment in hand, ready to transcribe the formal declarations.

"First, we recognize the Yeutish territories as free and independent sovereign lands. No longer will we seek conquest in the north. Instead, we will forge bonds of trade and mutual respect with those who have fought us for generations.”

“We command the Herald to call forth Kudai Batan of Naalaihir,” Taelyn’s voice rang out clear above the gasps and murmurs that followed.”

The massive doors of the Assembly Hall opened, and Kudai Batai entered. He moved with the grace of a mountain cat despite his enormous frame, each step deliberate and measured. Furs of white wolf and silver fox draped his shoulders, intricate leather armor beneath telling stories of battles won and territories defended. Unlike the elaborate elven robes around him, his attire spoke of wind-swept plains and endless skies.

Kudai approached the center of the chamber, his gaze sweeping across the assembled representatives. No bow. No subservient gesture. He stood as an equal, a king meeting king.

I stepped forward to meet him. "For generations, our peoples have known only conflict. Raids. Retribution. Endless cycles of violence that served no one. Today we break that cycle."

"We recognize the Yeutish territories as a sovereign realm,” Taelyn declared. “No longer will southern elven kings seek to claim your lands in conquest. Instead, we offer partnership. Mutual respect."

Kudai's response came not in words, but in a gesture so profound it silenced the entire chamber. He removed a medallion from around his neck—a circular piece of worked bronze depicting a wolf standing atop a mountain, surrounded by intricate spiraling patterns. The medallion bore marks of generations. Scratches from battles. Repairs that spoke of survival.

He held it out to Taelyn.

"Our people have survived wind that cuts like blades," Kudai spoke, his voice deep. "Winters that kill the unprepared. Enemies who believed we could be conquered. The strength of the north remains unbent, our resolve unbroken. But we recognize too the strength of your southern houses, and the losses. Clan Wolfheart has always fought with honor. It is my hope that the next time we meet, it will be at the feasting table and not on the battlefield.”

Taelyn accepted the medallion and stepped back.

Kudai turned to me. "King Ruith," he began, his voice carrying through the Assembly hall, "will you honor your word and return Lady Altani?”

"Lady Altani has been well cared for," I said simply. It was not a plea, not an apology. A statement of fact. Whatever our conflicts, I would not dishonor myself by mistreating a child who had been entrusted to our protection.

Kudai nodded. "Her safety was never in question. Your honor is known, even among those who have been your enemies. We are prepared to exchange hostages. Lady Altani will return to her mother's house. And in return, we release Prince Ieduin to your care."

Before he could continue, Ieduin stepped forward and fell to one knee before me so dramatically, I almost rolled my eyes. We’d practiced this a dozen times, and still they couldn’t do it without a bit of theatrics.

"Your Majesty," Ieduin began. "I come before you to request my formal release from my obligations as a noble of the realm.”

From the corner of my eye, I caught Elindir's barely suppressed smile. We both knew Ieduin lived for precisely these moments of dramatic court performance.

"My time in the north brought many new experiences and wonderful things," Ieduin continued, one hand pressed dramatically to their chest, voice rising with theatrical passion, "I saw breathtaking mountains, and mines filled with so many rare gems, they sparkled like stars. I saw a sky so clear and blue that I began to believe the old tales that we live in the eye of a giant. But perhaps most surprisingly, I met my match in another, an elf of infinite wisdom, startling strength, and compassion.”

“And a big cock,” Khulan whispered from the side of the chamber. “Don’t forget that part.”

Murmurs, coughs, and chuckles echoed around the Assembly chamber.

Ieduin shot him a look that screamed murder before turning back to the Assembly and clearing their throat. “I speak, of course, of none other than Prince Khulan. And now I come before you, begging release from my duties as a noble of the southern realm so that I may pursue my heart’s desire, and I beg one more boon of the king… A blessing of our union.”

I struggled not to laugh at Ieduin's theatrical plea, though I saw the genuine emotion beneath their performance. My sibling had always found their own path, usually the one most likely to scandalize traditional elven society. Yet here, in their request to join with a Yeutish prince, I recognized a sincerity rarely displayed.

"Rise, Ieduin," I said, extending my hand.

Ieduin stood, a flash of uncertainty crossing their features despite the bold performance moments before. Behind them, Khulan watched with barely contained eagerness, his massive frame seeming too large for the formal Assembly chamber.

"For generations, our peoples have shed blood in endless conflict," I continued, addressing both Ieduin and the Assembly. "What better symbol of our new alliance than a union between royal houses? If Prince Khulan accepts you as his chosen consort, I see no reason to deny my blessing."

Khulan stepped forward, his deep laugh echoing through the chamber. "Accept? I claimed this fierce little flame the moment I laid eyes on them." He moved to Ieduin's side, one massive hand settling possessively on their lower back. "Among the Yeutish, we have a saying: 'When the mountain chooses its falcon, even the strongest wind cannot separate them.'"

Several traditionalist representatives frowned at the display, but I noted others hiding smiles behind formal hands. Even in this ancient chamber of power, hearts recognized truth when they saw it.

"Then by my authority as king, I release you from your formal obligations to the southern court, Ieduin," I declared. "You may follow your heart to the northern territories as consort to Prince Khulan, with all honors and privileges such a station entails."

Taelyn stepped forward, adding her voice to mine. "And we formalize this union as the first of many bonds between our peoples. No longer separated by bloodshed, but united in common purpose."

Ieduin bowed deeply, though I caught the gleam of triumph in their eyes. My sibling had always found ways to turn obligation into opportunity. This marriage would give them considerable influence in Yeutish politics, a position they would undoubtedly use to further strengthen our alliance.

As Ieduin and Khulan stepped aside, I turned back to the waiting Assembly. The chamber had fallen silent, sensing the weight of what would come next. I exchanged a glance with Taelyn, who nodded slightly. The time had come for the most significant declaration of our reign.

"Representatives of the Twelve Clans," I began, my voice carrying to every corner of the chamber. "For centuries, our society has rested upon a foundation of inequality. We have taken humans as property, claimed ownership over lives that were never ours to possess." I paused, letting my gaze sweep across the chamber. "Today, that ends."

A ripple of tension spread through the Assembly, representatives shifting in their seats, some leaning forward with anticipation, others drawing back in obvious alarm.

"By royal decree, effective immediately, slavery is abolished throughout all elven territories," I declared. "No elf may own another sentient being. All people currently held in bondage are hereby declared free persons with full rights under elven law."

The chamber erupted. Shouts of protest mingled with cries of support. I raised my hand, waiting for silence that was slow to return.

"This is not a request for your consideration," I continued when the noise finally subsided. "This is the law of the realm, effective from this moment forward. The Assembly will draft comprehensive legislation to ensure genuine freedom and opportunity for the formerly enslaved. This will include provisions for education, employment, legal protection, and, if they desire it, safe passage to human territories."

"With respect, Your Majesty," Lord Seashore rose from his seat, his voice trembling with barely controlled anger, "such a monumental change cannot simply be decreed without consideration of the economic impact. Many houses depend on slave labor for their prosperity. The sudden removal of this workforce would cause widespread collapse."

"A prosperity built on suffering is no prosperity at all," Taelyn responded before I could speak, her voice cool but firm. "The Assembly will establish a transition council to address these concerns. Houses dependent on slave labor will receive guidance and temporary support as they adjust their practices. But the transition will proceed, regardless of difficulty."

I nodded. "Those who embrace this change willingly will find the crown generous in its assistance. Those who resist will find us equally firm in our enforcement."

Lord Longclaw stood next, his ancient face lined with disapproval. "And what of tradition? For millennia, our society has maintained certain... natural hierarchies. Humans have served as property since before the First Dynasty. Would you undo all of history on a youthful whim?"

"Not all traditions deserve preservation, Lord Longclaw," I replied, meeting his gaze without flinching. "Some must be examined in the clear light of justice and discarded when found wanting. This is such a tradition."

I stepped forward, addressing the full Assembly. "But if you require practical reasons beyond basic morality, consider this: King Michail's forces grow stronger each day. His zealots burn our villages and slaughter our people. We cannot fight this threat while divided against ourselves."

The mention of Michail shifted the atmosphere. Fear replaced indignation as representatives remembered the reports from Homeshore, the tales of entire elven communities exterminated.

"This brings us to our third decree," I continued, capitalizing on their attention. "All clans will call their banners immediately. Every warrior, every battle mage, every archer and healer capable of service must prepare for war. King Michail's crusade threatens not just our way of life but our very existence as a people. This is no longer about politics or succession; it is about survival."

I gestured toward the massive map on the chamber's eastern wall, where markers showed King Michail's advancing forces. "The winter snow already begins to melt. When spring arrives fully, we march on Homeshore with the largest army ever assembled under a single elven banner. We will end King Michail's invasion and secure peace for generations to come."

The representatives fell silent, weighing the enormity of what I proposed. Three momentous changes in a single session: recognition of Yeutish sovereignty, abolition of slavery, and preparation for all-out war against a human threat. Any one would have caused controversy; together, they represented the most significant shift in elven governance in centuries.

"Your Majesty," Representative Seagrave of House Craiggybottom stood. "House Craiggybottom stands ready. Our ships are at your disposal."

One by one, other representatives rose to pledge support, some enthusiastically, others with clear reluctance but with recognition of necessity. By the time the sun began to set beyond the Assembly's ancient windows, we had secured commitments from all twelve clans, setting in motion the greatest mobilization in elven history.

As the formal session concluded, I caught Elindir's eye in the gallery. His face shone with pride, one arm around each of our sons. Whatever came next, whatever price we paid for these changes, that moment made it worthwhile. The world our boys would inherit would be different, better than the one that had placed collars around their necks.

That night, celebrations filled D'thallanar's streets. Music drifted from taverns and public squares. Elves, humans, and half-elves mingled freely, the news of abolition spreading like wildfire through the city's districts. Not everyone celebrated, of course. In the shadows of grand houses, traditionalists plotted resistance. In alleyways and hidden rooms, those who had profited from slavery nursed resentment. But for one night, at least, hope outshone fear.

I watched from the palace balcony, marking both the celebrations and the pockets of sullen resistance. Change would not come easily or without cost. But it would come.

"Father!" Torsten's excited voice broke through my thoughts as small arms wrapped around my waist from behind. I turned to find my younger son beaming up at me, his wild curls escaping the careful styling someone had attempted for the evening's celebration. "You're missing everything! Tariq's dragon did a flip and breathed blue fire! And there's cake shaped like the Assembly building!"

I couldn't help but smile as he tugged insistently at my formal robes, his enthusiasm pulling me back from the weight of royal responsibilities to the simple joy of the moment.

"Cake shaped like the Assembly? Now that I must see," I said, allowing him to pull me toward the feasting hall.

Elindir appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with a smile that warmed something deep within me. "I was about to send a royal search party," he said. "Though it seems our most effective agent found you first."

"The most persistent, certainly," I agreed, ruffling Torsten's hair as he continued pulling me forward.

"Everyone's waiting," Elindir said, falling into step beside us. "Tariq has already told three inappropriate stories that had Leif asking questions I wasn't prepared to answer."

I laughed. "Perhaps we should rescue our older son from Tariq's questionable influence."

"Too late," Elindir said with a mock sigh. "They're already conspiring about sailing lessons. I believe the word 'adventure' was used several times."

Torsten finally released my robes as we reached the grand dining hall, running ahead to announce my arrival with all the ceremony an eight-year-old could muster.

The doors opened to reveal a scene that would have been unimaginable mere months ago. Around the massive feasting table sat not just nobles and clan representatives, but a true family forged through struggle and unlikely bonds.

An empty seat awaited me at the head of the table, with Elindir's place of honor to my right. Tariq occupied the chair beside Elindir's, gesturing animatedly while Bash snatched morsels from his plate when he wasn't looking. Leif and Torsten quickly scrambled back to their seats.

Katyr and Niro sat close together. Katyr laughed at something Aryn said, while Daraith looked over at Aryn with the barest hint of a smile.

Taelyn and Captain Yisra occupied seats of honor, their heads bent together over what appeared to be a detailed map, though their clasped hands beneath the table told a different story. Ieduin and Khulan dominated one end of the table, the Yeutish prince's booming laugh carrying over the general conversation as he described some northern tradition that had everyone around him in stitches.

Representatives from all twelve clans mingled freely, old rivalries temporarily forgotten in the warmth of celebration. Even the more traditional houses had sent envoys, recognizing that regardless of their feelings about my reforms, this was a historic moment that could not be ignored.

Most remarkable of all were the humans and elves seated alongside one another without collars or chains to separate them. Former slaves now sat as honored guests, their voices equal in the conversation, their presence no longer an aberration but a glimpse of the future we were building.

As we took our seats, Elindir leaned close, his voice soft against my ear. "I love you. In this moment and all that follow."

I turned to him, propriety forgotten in the warmth of celebration, and pressed my lips gently to his. "And I love you. Today and always."

The moment lingered until Torsten's giggle broke the spell.

"A toast," Tariq declared, rising to his feet. "To new adventures!"

Glasses raised around the table, voices joining in a chorus of agreement that rang through the hall. Looking around the table, I felt something I had rarely experienced during my years of rebellion: peace. Not the absence of conflict, for great battles still lay ahead, but a deeper quieting of the spirit that came from knowing that whatever trials awaited, we would face them together.

As the feast continued around me, I allowed myself this one perfect moment to simply exist within the warmth of connection, storing it away like a treasure against the darker days I knew would come.

I had searched my entire life for something worth fighting for, worth dying for. Looking around this table at the family we had forged from adversity, I realized I had found something far greater: something worth living for.