Becoming Legend

Chapter 209: Prince Aesril: No Turning Back

"Are you sure about this, My Prince?" Gelethorn whispered behind the prince as they passed a corridor crowded with other elves. The two stopped in a chamber brimming with elves as they study crafts, and magic, and history. Above the chamber was a name created with coiling vines that labeled: 'Oppos Arcadium.' A part of Pin'Tu's branch wherein elves used to study. This was an academy for humans.

Prince Aesril gazed around him, golden eyes looking for elves with elegant hair and an overbearing aura. He needed to make sure that none would learn about their plan. His robe fluttered as he spun to face his attendant. "Have you got what I asked, Gele?" Prince Aesril said with his hand resting over his loyal attendant's shoulder.

Gelethorn was wildly built for a Wood Elf. Most elves of his bloodline were born with slim figure and tightened shoulders. But Gelethorn was different, he's got a slightly broad shoulder and slightly broad eyebrows. But as Prince Aesril laid his hand on his shoulder, he nearly deflated like a globule of air under the scorching heat of the sun.

"I do. Yes, I have, My Prince," Gele answered. "I'm glad to be of service, My Prince."

Aesril retreated his hand and waved to dismiss Gelethorn's honest appearance, he smiled, but enough to hide his cunning lips. "Very well," he said, "Now we needed diversion."

Prince Aesril's pointy ears tingled and heard footsteps approaching over a fresh layer of wood. He spun around to see one of the Successors of the Wood Elves along with her two Smir attendants. "Princess Tiatha," he said with the most respected tone. "How are you with the elves?" Prince Aesril said and looked over Tiatha's shoulder, the two elves lowered their heads, unable to meet the High Prince's eyes. "Ah, well trained, I assumed."

"Prince Aesril," Tiatha said, and curtsied most unusually for elves: he held his hand toward the Prince on a fist, waiting for a response. Unlike her fellow princesses of the Wood Elves clan that wore robes of even matching type, she was the only one, perhaps the only princess to wear long and knitted pants, and a jacket of green and brown made of Pin'Tu's fibers.

Prince Aesril bumped the princess's fist and smiled. "Another form of greetings," he said.

"Of course," Princess Tiatha said and fingered her long and brown hair. She doesn't have the joy of fastening her hair in a brooch loved by other princesses. "We needed it when we reclaim our lands from humans. We might as well form diplomatic ties with them."

Prince Aesril paused. Along with her brother, Prince Titus, the First Successor of the Wood Elves. She was also a Successor below his brother.

"When did you arrived from the Hunt?" Prince Aesril asked.

"Just now," she replied. "You see." She paused for dramatic effect and raised a finger and said a-matter-of-factly: "I came to see you first after my arrival, I'm sure Princess Gadsi can wait. Why is the matter, Prince Aesril?" She said with a long breath and stepped closer to the prince.

This made Gelethorn walked around Prince Aesril and positioned himself to block the approaching princess.

"Princess Tiatha," Gele said, unable to meet the latter's eyes. "You're too close."

"Look at me when you speak," she said.

So did Gelethorn. She was already a beauty with her small nose, and thin lips, unlike any other princesses, her eyes were grey. Unusual for a Wood Elf with brown, and green as the common.

"Now speak," she said.

And the way she treated her fellow wood Elf clan was also unusual. She would look down on them, not just Wood Elves but Dark Elves as well. She considered herself a High Elf. This must be the reason why she was always sent for the Hunt.

The Hunt was an event to prove the strength and blood of an elf. The more magical beasts they slew, the more they were respected by other elves. But there's more to it. Pin'Tu was a Tree brimming of lifeleaking of mana, literally. It was so massive the size resembled a country that hundreds of thousands of residence could be fitted. For this reason, magical beasts were invading the tree to have a taste of its leaking mana, or perhaps to have the taste of the elves residing in it. And so the Hunt was formed: stop the invading beasts and prove yourselves loyal to Pin'Tu, and loyal to the King of Elves.

Prince Aesril stepped forward as he laid his arms to Gelethorn's shoulder once again. "It's fine, Gelethorn," he said. "We had the Assembly a few months ago. The King has decided, no more reclaiming territories. We will leave Earflgard."

"What!" Princess Tiatha cried and gasped.

Elves around them stopped upon hearing the princess's voice rebounding inside the chamber. Her attendant lowered their heads as if saying 'We don't know her.'

"You should ask Elder Naglanor about the Assembly."

Princess Tiatha spun to leave without saying a word. Her attendant followed from behind.

"I hate her," Gelethorn said, seeing the back of the princess vanishing toward another chamber.

"Why?" Aesril asked. "You hate her because she liked me, or Princess Gadsi? Or do you hate her because she's always out for a Hunt?"

"All," Gele said, an honest Wood Elf with an honest voice. "I hate all of her. She learns the ways of humans. Yet, Elder Naglanor let her be. I know we are nearly extinct. But, by the Maker, I hope the fairies teach her a lesson when Hunting."

Aside from the passing elves, the freshly recruited students sitting at the corner over a bench of moving vines, the creaking of the long tables in the center of the circular chamber, or the buzzing of the bees as one of the elf used it to demonstrate to the other students on how to inject mana and use them as bombs. Gelethorn heard nothing from the prince. He stood there, like having a brilliant idea as his rose lips smiled widely.

"My Prince?" Gele asked, confused. "Have you gotten another enlightenment?" It was a pun, as Prince Aesril always had the wildest ideas after reading so many books.

"In fact, I do have, Gele," the prince said. He looked like his father without his sword and bow attached. Inside the chambers of Pin'Tu, the Tree of Doubts, Oppos Arcadium was one of the thousands of chambers that citizens weren't allowed to carry weapons.

"Bring the thing I asked you inside my chamber," he asked, more like a plea, as if making sure that Gele must follow his orders no matter what.

"Yes, My Prince," The Wood Elf said, bowing.

After hours and hours of meeting with the Elders, and attending classes of history, magic, and summoning, and contact fighting, Gelethorn arrived at Prince Aesril's chamber holding a set of a thin silk-like garment.

"My Prince," he said and bowed. The saber in his left waist gleamed as the moonlight entered through the gaps of the Prince's chamber.

Wooden cabinets stacked with books stood behind the prince while he sat over his vine-made chair. A chair of vines was already conjured by the Prince before Gelethorn arrived. He gestured and let the Wood Elf took his time to sit.

"Mask of Care, My Prince," Gele said. The mask laid open over his laps. The mask was plain, white, smooth, square in shape, it was too thin Gele's fingers were visible from the other side.

The prince said, "I'm sorry you need to take a risk, Gele."

Gele said, "No my Prince. I did nothing. I only asked old Fingolfin, and upon hearing your name, the merchant was eager to do everything to get the Mask. May I ask my Prince? What will this mask do to accomplish your plan?"

The prince said, "Everything Gele, everything. Mask of Care copies faces of different forms. We needed it upon arriving at the land of humans."

Gele sighed, his eyes boring the mask and the future it holds for the two of them. Whether he liked it or not, his family's family was bound to follow the High Prince. There would be no King and Prince without his family's guidance. He was the son of the greatest warrior of the elves. He lives to follow the prince.

"Some part of me wanted to venture the outside, My Prince," Gele said. "But most of it was contemplating if I should let this plan commence. My life is nothing compared to you, My Prince. I'm a fool if I let you do this, the only heir to the throne. But I'm worse than a fooldaft perhaps, traitor I agree, if I let my only friend succumb to sadness." Gele smiled and was willing. "So, how are we gonna do this? We go back underground? At the old ruins? Under the roots of Pin'Tu? And then what My Prince? I don't care how long I will dig. But, how are we going to do this, my Prince? Last time I remembered from my father, there were thousands of Smirs guarding every part of Pin'Tu. Not even bugs could enter."

"Gele, Gele," Prince Aesril said in a wide smile, his fingers brushing the unknown book he loves to read. "Some part of me does hate Princess Tiatha. She's... Impractical, indiscreet for a Wood Elf, but thanks to her we might leave the Tree of Pin'Tu."

Gele sat in silence. Then the roaring flap of a massive bird hovering outside the Prince's chamber broke his thoughts. The bird was like a shadow under the moon. Too big, yet, unseen with its jet black feathers. Gele looked back at the Prince, eyes brimming with light.

"Yes," Prince Aesril said. "That's right. We're going for a Hunt. You and me, no turning back."