He stood at least a head taller than anyone in the room, and his fair silver hair, straight as an arrow, hung down to his middle back. His nearly perfect complexion, lack of beard, and bright green eyes made him stand out amidst the others. His pointed ears were sharp, but they had a certain elegance that matched his other features perfectly.

“I thank you, King Truls, for the compliment,” he began, his voice sounding like a river flowing softly through the air. Much less brutish than the one who had spoken before him. “Indeed, what King Truls has said is true. Unlike their original entry to this world - the cause of which we have yet to understand how or why it happened,” he shook his head.

“My scouts have found such a portal in the forests of Caegwen. After observing it for three months, they noted that once every full moon, the portals open and these foul beasts pour out until the morning sun closes the portal,” he continued.

“This is not exclusive to Caegwen, however, as there are portals in every country, we just happened to find ours first. We are still unsure why this is happening on such a consistent basis. However, we currently lack the manpower to make any attempts at closing them,” he sighed.

“The only foreseeable way to close such breaches in our realm is through powerful spells, though other suggestions are more than welcome,” he glanced around the room. “My mages are tirelessly working on ways to close those, as mentioned earlier; however, any recent attempt at closing them has failed drastically, resulting in the deaths of more than a few of my warriors,” he said, with a drop of tone towards the end of his sentence, getting scattered gasps from around the room.

“Regrettable as their downfalls are, we must move on. I propose that my mages work with the others scattered around the Continent so that we can end these incursions,” he said with conviction.

“I agree, Your Majesty,” the Master said, raising a hand. “The more people we have working on how to close them, the sooner results will come. However, I must ask the following: How do the portals open, and are they two-way or one-way portals?” he asked. “We believe them to be two-way,” Elhael shrugged. “However, none of my men thus far have dared to attempt to go into one,” he said dejectedly.

“I believe we should mount a party of the bravest men and women, volunteers of course, to go in and at the very minimum see if it is a two-way portal,” Prince Bashir of Harut said, raising his hand, causing Leona to turn her head towards him instantly.

He was the son of King Bashaa and a good-looking man overall. He was tanned, dark-haired, and had pale green eyes. His close-cut hair and beard showed he cared much for his appearance. His warrior past had given him a strong and able body to match, so it was no small wonder why she’d be interested in him.

“I don’t entirely disagree with you, Prince Bashir,” Elhael said. “However, I must ask you where you may find such valiant folk to pull that off,” he said with curiosity. “We could always let Mideia handle it,” a voice came away from the table.

My brother and I winced at the exact same time.

An old, hooded man stepped out from behind Truls’ guardsmen and began walking toward the table. He was hooded, with the sign of the Church's sword and staff sewn into his robes. The hems were dirty, and the areas around his knees were well-worn out from kneeling often. His face was wrinkled as unfolded clothes, and his beard looked like a gray cloud. His eyes were pale and gray, yet he saw more than most.

“Mideia will save us. He has always been there for us in our times of need, and he will be with us now,” the old man croaked with conviction. “Father Mourtis. How nice of you to join us,” Truls said courteously. “Who is this man, and what is he doing in a war council if he is a priest?” King Bashaa asked angrily. “This is the high priest of the Church of Mideia,” the Master answered, lacing his words with subtle sarcasm and malice.

“It’s good to see you, too, Master of Codrean,” Mourtis returned the greeting with equal venom in his tone, ignoring Bashaa’s comment.

“That’s all well and good, but what is he doing in a war council?” Bashaa asked once more, more angrily than before. “Essentially, my Lords, they want the eradication of all things deemed evil by their god,” the Master said. “Unfortunately for the followers of Mideia, smiting evil hasn’t exactly been on his to-do list of late,” he grinned, getting a chuckle out of a few at the table.

Mourtis was white with rage. “How dare you blaspheme against the one true god who stands above the rest, you non-believer?” he belted at the top of his lungs. “Non-believer?” the Master asked calmly. “I know that there are many gods, I simply don’t believe yours is the most powerful,” he continued calmly.

Mourtis furrowed his brow. “Mark my words: He will smite you down with bolts from the sky, and brimstone from the deepest corners of the Underworld,” he bellowed threateningly.

“Have you ever been to the Underworld before, priest?” the Master asked calmly, surprising the old man with the question. “N-no, I have not! Of course not! What a ridiculous notion!” he retorted. “Ah, I see. If you had, you would have known there is no brimstone there, and that it is also not geometric in shape, I might add,” the Master’s lips thinned.

“I don’t know for sure how powerful Mideia is, or what bullshit you spue to your followers, but if you think he could strike me down, I’d love to see him try,” he tilted his head with a malicious grin.

Oh shit! I thought we were trying to watch what we said, I felt the nervousness ripple through me and the others present.

Mourtis was taken aback, while the rest of us, Bernar and Roburn included, stifled our laughter at the prospect of the Master verbally demolishing this priest. His eyes burned with a fire no one had seen or even guessed the old man had, but it seemed like he took the Master’s words seriously enough.

“Calm down, you two,” Elhael interjected, his voice raised just enough to get their attention. “Bickering over such menial things is pointless right now. Let us focus on what we must do to rid ourselves of these beasts,” he concluded, raising his eyebrows at the Master slightly as if to tell him to stop.

“He’s right. It may be entertaining to the rest of us to watch the High Priest squirm, but King Elhael has a point, nevertheless,” Bernar chimed in, giving the elven king a knowing nod which was returned in kind. Everyone calmed back down, and the sound of light laughter faded. Mourtis glared at the Master, who kept a straight face the whole time.

Just then, I felt a surge of mana flowing through the room, but I couldn’t pinpoint it due to all of the other casters in the room. “I think we’ve got a problem here,” I whispered, tapping Bernar’s shoulder. “I felt it too,” he began, leaning in closer. “But this is a war council, and there’s not a single turtle shit I can do about it without starting an all out war over breaking tradition,” he said while looking around the room.

The Master came close enough just now, didn’t he? I guess I’ll just have to watch for anything suspicious, I frowned.

Well, then,” King Mads began in a grunty voice after clearing his throat. “We need options, and fighting like dogs over meat about what to do won’t solve our problem. I agree with sending a party as King Bashaa had suggested before. However, how we will acquire such brave people might be more complicated than we think,” he said, looking at everyone in the room inquisitively.

“Advertising a certain amount of gold per person willing to go might do the trick,” Leona said, and everyone turned their attention towards her. Bashir’s eyes opened wide, blatantly staring at her.

If his facial features could write words, they would have something regarding how beautiful she is strewn across them, I thought, noticing the man’s apparent lack of lustful disguise.

“I agree with Her Majesty, though it will take no small amount to convince young men and women to take up a task they might not return from,” Elhael said. “The proper amount for each willing person will be decided by whether they have family, and before the actual test takes place,” Truls added.

“So we all agree on this happening, I take it?” Bashaa asked, gazing around the room briefly. “I believe so,” Elhael replied. “All in favor say aye,” Leona called out. A unanimous aye resounded from every man and woman present, and all looked towards Truls.

“Then, Your Majesties, lords and ladies present, I believe our council here is finished now. We will reconvene after lunch,” Truls declared. “Kings Elhael, Bashaa, Mads, and I shall meet once again to discuss the economic viability for each country,” he gestured across the table to them. The four nodded to each other and began to move away from the table. “All are now excused,” Fulco called out and showed the leaders to the door.

As they were leaving the room,  Mourtis stopped the Master and began speaking to him privately. I noted the High Priest's expression on his face during their conversation as it contorted into a mix of anger and resentment.

Damn it, I can’t hear what they’re saying. Although judging by how intense the High Priest seems, it almost looks like he’s threatening the Master, I thought.

Just then, a servant came up to me and interrupted my thoughts. “Young master,” the servant said. “Your friend is awake and is asking to see you and the others,” he said excitedly. My eyes opened widely at the news, and I curtly nodded. “Thank you for the news! It’s much appreciated,” I said briefly, running off, taking Bernar, Irun, and Batch along with me.

Just before I left the council room, I saw Leona staring at Bashir, who tried to avoid staring back, but had a hard time keeping his eyes off of her. “Come, my sweet,” Truls said, touching her shoulder, which caused a shiver to run down the length of her sleek body in what looked like disgust, but she began to walk alongside the king.

That was weird, I thought, but quickly dismissed that line of thinking, as I had a new focus in mind.

I ran into the nursery and almost knocked over a healer or two on the way in. I found his friend, though only one eye was open. “Thoma,” he said weakly. “Edryd! You’re...you’re…,” I didn’t want to finish. “No, I’m not blind in one eye if that’s what you wanted to say. It's just a bit hard to open it with all the clotted blood around it,” he smiled weakly.

“I’m relieved to hear that,” I said. “Well, it could have been much worse,” Batch began. “You could have lost your prick,” he said with a chuckle. Edryd wheezed heavily from the pain that was laughing, but he still had a smile on his face.

“So, tell me what happened after I blacked out,” he said, his tone carrying genuine curiosity. The other boys and I began telling of the battle and council, while Bernar was warming up to a nearby nurse.

Surprising no one, she rejected him shortly after he began speaking.

She rejected him shortly after he began speaking.

After a few hours of talking about our experiences the previous day and on that day, we bid farewell and a speedy recovery to Edryd, and went to our dormitory. I sat down on a bench in the bathing area, going over the information and everything I had seen that day.

What the hell was that mana burst? I thought.