The Elf King Read Online Free Page A

right again. He wondered if she would
return to speak to him. Probably not, he yawned, deciding that it
didn’t matter. Dawn would break before long and he desired what
little sleep he could steal. As he closed his eyes, he thought he
heard the door shut, but paid it no mind. Sienna had returned, he
thought wearily. But she would let him sleep. And so Turyn
Andelline, with all the troubles waging war in his mind, allowed
himself to be swept away.
    King Andelline was still
half awake when the blade cut into his back, piercing his sternum.
The dagger was through his chest again before he could open is
eyes. An iron grasp clasped his mouth shut, muffling his screams.
His mighty chest heaved once, then fell flat.
     
    I t was several hours past dawn when a knock came to the door, followed by the
entrance of the chef pushing a breakfast cart. He pushed the cart
to the table and prepared the King’s first meal when he noticed a
red pool on the floor around the bed. Looking to the motionless
body, the chef cried his loudest as he noticed the Elven weapon
still buried deep into the back of the King.
    “ Help! The King’s been
slain!”
     
     

Chapter 3
     
     
     
    J ust as the sun was creeping up over the plush treetops, Shadox
passed over a wood-planked bridge and entered the kingdom of the
Forest Elves, hidden deep within the seclusion of the Lyyn Forest.
Across the shadow-covered trail he strolled, appearing as a shadow
taken form. Tall and lean, his body was draped in his wet-ash
colored cloak. The hood was drawn over his head, allowing only a
fraction of his face to be seen within the darkness of the deep
cowl.
    He had been walking the
better part of two weeks now, though his body showed no sign of
fatigue, and his long stride maintained. He was traveling from the
Shard Peaks, far west of the Spira, where he was exploring the deep
catacombs beneath the mountains in search of ancient knowledge. He
had been there for nearly a year, searching and researching lost
civilizations, before a young Tracker found him and relayed an
urgent message from Terill Estrial. The Tracker informed him of the
on goings between the two Races, from the disappearance of Pal Rae
up to the peace talks. Lord Estrial wanted him present for the
meeting, hoping he could shed some light on the situation, or at
least sway his old friend from waging war. Being an ally to both
Races, Shadox was inclined to agree with Terill and left his
studies immediately.
    He moved through the forest
with certainty. Where others might be oblivious, Shadox knew where
the Forest Elves existed. Carefully concealed within the folds of
the foliage, construed with the bindings of magic and woven with
the forest elements, the Elven cities went unnoticed to the
untrained eye. But Shadox knew the Ailia as well as any elf. He
would never get lost in the Lyyn’s tangle while en route to one of
his favorite places. He had spent a great deal of time with Lord
Estrial, learning everything he could, offering what assistance he
could when asked—always welcomed.
    As he moved past houses
crafted with bark and limbs, Shadox’s thoughts stayed on his old
friend Turyn Andelline. The King’s son was missing and presumed
dead. He could only imagine how hard Turyn was taking it. And
though he was a good king, his temper when stoked had no equal.
With his son missing, Shadox knew Turyn would go to no end to
diminish his anger. Estrial was right to want him at this
meeting.
    It had been a few years
since the sorcerer had seen his old friend, and thought it was sad
that it was on such poor circumstances that they would meet again.
The King would be upset, he knew, but after long he would come to
see things differently and they would talk again of days better
spent. He would help Turyn find his son and this matter would be
finished.
    His thoughts turned then to
his own young protégé, Dren. The young man had been left in the
hands of the Elves for the past months as Shadox went exploring