The Throne of Qualinesti
They called him the puppet king. He was the face the audience saw while the puppeteer was behind the curtain, jerking the strings. Marshal Medan, who had been the true ruler of Qualinesti for more than thirty years, was the one who moved the king, while Senator Palthainon, a once powerful member of the Thalas-Enthia, played the tune to which the wooden toy danced, or so it seemed.
His Majesty, Speaker of the Sun, Gilthas, son of Lauranalanthalas, the Golden General, and Tanis Half-Elven, had broken the strings with a snap, sending the plans of the Dark Knights of Neraka down the drain. There once was a time when I was ashamed to have been made for His Majesty, but that was before he had revealed himself as the leader of the rebel elves. He was responsible for thwarting the plans of The Dark Knights time and time again. Now, I must be the proudest throne who was ever grown!
Unknown to the King, Senator Palthainon sat more upon me than His Majesty! I detested the long hours which he sat rigid on top of me, as if de were The Speaker of the Sun! Palthainon was old and wiry, and caused me a great deal of pain. Gilthas, however does not sit on me for the glory, he sees me for what I am: an amazing piece of elven architecture, grown from living trees (elves consider it a grievous sin to harm plants) to form an intricate waving pattern. He does not believe the throne gives a king his power, but the people. When the Speaker of the Sun reigns on me, my silver and gold bark shines with pride, my leafless boughs quiver with excitement.
My goal in life is to see His Majesty and all his sons' reigns, before I am done away with. How many of his children will sit on me and view the gossamer draperies over the living walls that encompass this chamber? I shall never become old and warn, for I am made out of a combination of Qualinesti and Silvanesti trees intertwined to form a circle of impenetrable magic founded from friendship. Silvanesti is the other elven kingdom to the east. Once bitter enemies, after the death shield fell (put in place some thirty years before by the great green dragon Cyan Bloodbane), I was a gift from the Speaker of the Stars, Silvanoshei to Gilthas.
The loyalty of a chair to her master is like a light in the darkness. Whether you be an old, leather armchair or a battle-worn dragon saddle, no matter what you look like, your master is sure to find comfort in your seat. That is how Gilthas and I have grown to each other, and I hope to see the evolution of The United Elven Nations of Silvanost and Qualinesti.