Chapter 6

Meunin elf-King stood alone on his terrace, his grey eyes unaware of the beauty that surrounded him. He peered out toward the horizon. His thoughts were far from his fairytale land of Havillah and the kingdom of Aeral. In truth, his thoughts rested on his wife. He remembered her as she had been, his sweet, kind, noble wife. She sometimes appeared to him in his dreams, but he never saw her face. He couldn't remember what she looked like, and his very memories of her were fading. At times he would hear her voice in the crooning of the sea. Sometimes he could see her form in the graceful swaying of a birch in the wind. But she always eluded him. He could never fully grasp hold of her in his mind. He was not even aware he was thinking of her until he heard himself whisper her name.

"Seria." Beautiful Seria. She was gone now. So many of her people were. So many of his people were gone. Aeral had changed. Once Markin had banished King Traeven he had sought to stamp out all opposition. His scouts had even reached Havillah on the eastern border. A great many of the Thurrim had gone out to meet the scouts. They were not prepared to find an army. The army killed every Thurm in the band. They then went to Azmaveth, the fortress of the Orem and slaughtered as many as they could. Seria was one of the Orem; she had been visiting her family and had been killed. She, an innocent woman had been struck down by an armed, armored soldier. The rest of the Orem fled into the woods and watched in horror as Azmaveth burned to the ground. It had been a dark time for all of the peoples of Aeral. The times were no better now, but the newness of the horror had made those first dark years seem even darker. Things were always bad now, and the people of Aeral had come to expect this. Meunin was startled from his musings by the entrance of a page.

"Milord." He bowed to the ground.

"Rise, Talman. What news have ye?"

"Gazaelle of the Wood seeks an audience with Meunin elf-King. With her is a young one."

"I do not have time to speak with my sister today. I grow weary of her constant pleas for the wood. I can do nothing for the trees. It is time that she accepts the fact that the trees will sleep forever." He waved his hand and turned back to the balcony. A soft clearing of a throat made him turn back around. "More?"

"Milord, your sister thought you might say that. If you did I was instructed to tell you that the name of the child is Miriam Traeven."

Meunin's head snapped up, all of his dreams shattered as the name Traeven penetrated his conscious. His eyes lit up and his breathing quickened. "Traeven?"

"Yes, milord. Traeven."

Meunin paced impatiently. "Where did my tree-loving sister find this child? No, wait, Talman, don't answer. I shall allow her to tell the story herself. And if this child is who it might be…" His voice faded as he thought of all the good things that this might mean for his country, for Havillah and Aeral. "Come." He told Talman, then walked toward his throne room without even stopping to see if Talman followed him.