Hurrying to his father’s side, Aelryk once again blasted through the crowd. The king lay motionless on the ground, his eyes staring blindly at the sky. Aelryk felt a chill on his spine as winter sent a cold blast of air against the perspiration on his skin. His father was dead.
“You are our king now,” Mi’tal said, coming to his side.
Aelryk stared blankly at his father’s body, not hearing Mi’tal’s words.
“Your Majesty,” Mi’tal said, attempting to catch Aelryk’s attention. He laid a hand on the prince’s shoulder. “You are our king. You can put an end to this war.”
Aelryk looked up at him, the shock of his father’s death being put aside. Remembering his promise of peace to the elven people, he nodded to Mi’tal and patted him on the shoulder. Now the king of Na’zora, he had sworn to put an end to the fighting.
“The king is dead!” he shouted to the soldiers. The ground fighting continued, but at the sound of the prince’s voice, the few remaining mages ceased their fire. “Stop this fighting at once!” he commanded, trying his best to shout above the noise. He feared the elves would not heed his words, but he intended to do as he had promised.
“Fall back!” he shouted. His words echoed throughout his army as the men did their best to break away from the fighting.
Hearing the prince’s words, Essa commanded the maidens to stop as well. “Maidens to me!” she cried.
Reylana lowered her sword and backed away slowly from her opponent, who took the opportunity to retreat. As she turned, she caught sight of Reylin lying lifelessly on the ground. She ran to his side as tears clouded her vision. “Oh, Reylin,” she sobbed as she fell to her knees beside his body. At the death of her parents, she had not wept openly. Her grief for her twin was far greater, and she could not hold back the tears.
Finally managing to take in a breath, Reylana ran deep into the forest. The war had claimed her brother just as it was coming to an end. It’s just as well, she thought. He never would have accepted peace. Continuing to run deeper into the forest, she pushed the thoughts of her brother from her mind. The time would come to grieve more for Reylin, but for now, she had a mission to accomplish.
Aelryk moved to the front of his army to face Essa. He laid his sword flat across his hands and thrust it into the ground at her feet. Retrieving her sheathed blade from her scabbard, she thrust it into the ground beside his.
“From this day forth, let us have peace,” Aelryk said.
“No elf will attack a citizen of Na’zora without provocation,” she replied. “King Domren is dead, and you are now the king. You must ensure your people no longer attack us.”
“I swear to you, I will see it done. I will draft a peace treaty along with the leaders of the elven clans. Together we will come to terms and end this fighting.”
Essa nodded, her eyes fixed on Aelryk. She believed him to be a man of his word, and she intended to be a part of his peace treaty. “The elven leaders will negotiate with you,” she said. “We desire peace for our forests, just as you do for your citizens.”
Aelryk extended his hand to Essa, who grabbed his forearm and gripped it tightly. Grasping hers as well, he looked into her stern, dark eyes. He felt a sense of relief that he had not encountered her during the battle. She was probably the fiercest warrior he had ever encountered, if she could be judged by her eyes alone.
From the trees behind Essa, a blonde-haired woman emerged followed by an auburn-haired elf. Reylana had brought Lisalla to her prince as an offering of peace. Lisalla hesitated and looked back at Reylana.
“Go on,” Reylana said.
Lisalla drew in a deep breath and slowly made her way to her betrothed. Aelryk stood in awe of her beauty as she came ever closer. Her blonde ringlets danced on the wind, and her stunning blue eyes reflected the cold, piercing the frosty air as a needle through cloth.
Aelryk stepped forward and took Lisalla in his arms. They embraced for the first time, and Lisalla’s eyes filled with tears.
“The king is dead?” she asked. Her voice was soft and quiet.
“He is,” Aelryk replied.
“Perhaps it is for the best,” she said quietly. “If he was half the tyrant I heard he was, Na’zora will be better for it.”
“He was my father, Lisalla,” Aelryk said. “He was also my king, and his loss pains me.”
“Yes, but now you are the king,” she replied with a smile. “Now you can have peace.”
Aelryk turned his attention back to Essa. “Your delegates can return to the palace with us. I can guarantee their safe passage.”
Essa, Reylana, Nat, and Sal all agreed to accompany the king to the palace. Some of the remaining clan Overseers would be sent, and at least five members of each clan would be present for negotiations. All of their futures depended upon this treaty, and none of the clans would be left out.