[BORN TO BE KING] S7 - ARDENT OF THE END

EPISODE 241: THE FUTURE STATE 2

— GREAT EDRYAN, YEAR 7294. SEASON: CENTRAL.

Lawruthian turned sharply toward Alaric. His red-gold eyes met those of the elf, and he truly paused from his words.

Carno Edryani — Eradication—the second [Chosen of Madris]. He'd disappeared during the battle against Rasheed and hadn't been heard of since. Lawruthian didn't know if the former Chosen was still attached to him, but he hadn't made a peep in two years. To Lawruthian, that didn't mean he was dead, truly; it only meant he'd either found a suitable host when they invaded the Mountain of Final Hope or he'd attached himself to someone or something else.

To hear his name being spoken here reminded Lawruthian that these people held a history different than his own, or in this case, the vast majority of the magi-humans. The true history of the world to Lawruthian's and Minerva's understanding was kept to them, with only those who needed to know in the know—the Six Great Houses and their kin.

That was not the case for those outside of Great Edryan's mountains—a protection that kept their country enclosed on two sides, or a cage that kept them away from the world. No matter how Lawruthian chose to address this matter, and he must, it had to be handled with the utmost care. It was the reason the world today hated the magi-humans and, by extension, humans themselves.

Lawruthian paused, measured twice, and spoke once. He found his old habits more than necessary for these talks; it was a must. His voice was measured, but even with the (King's Indifference) activated, a hint of emotion could be detected as he spoke. Whether it was his true feelings or not didn't matter; what mattered was the outcome it brought.

"Carno Edryani was a plague," Lawruthian stressed. "He was an uncontrollable entity that disregarded the Goddess's passion for life and attempted to twist Her words into falsehoods. My very action of inviting the world to set Rules and Regulations, to keep one another accountable, no matter our differences, showcases my nature and distance from him."

He paused, glancing around, his voice loud and projected. "The Goddess has never wanted to eradicate all life on the Mortal Plane or even enslave them. What purpose would that solve? What purpose would that serve? She intends to bring us together underneath one banner—a Union, like that of old."

Alaric scoffed. "Union," he sneered? "A Union—a city of discarded hopes and annulled dreams. A city of savages who ate one another to survive, mutating into goblin ilk and orc filth. A Union between Saphens didn't work the first time—it will not work again."

Some, like Ninjaro, appeared confused. Ìmólè was in a similar situation. She knew the extensive history of the continent, but it was the first time she had heard of the city of Union. She looked to Snake-Eye, one of the oldest Prestiges of the Theocracy on the Mortal Plane. He shook his head, an indication that he, too, did not know.

Zeor squinted, gazing around at those who sat at the round table. She, too, did not know but turned in surprise as a voice behind her spoke, clarifying what it was the Chosen of Madris and [Skyscraper] Alaric discussed.

"Union—First city of Saphens, first city of this world. In a time when there were no Gods, no Prestiges, no Titans. It existed eons ago, and only a few races can claim origins to it. Goblins—once humans, those of the Artisan class, who faced discrimination and were forced into the sewers, consuming their own flesh or others to survive. Orcs and gnomes are also mutations of the human strain of Saphen. And of course, Magi and True Elf—last creations of Realm Lord Elrunian."

All eyes turned to the covered figure who spoke behind the felion. The figure seemed to hesitate for a moment, but ultimately remained silent after she spoke. Slowly, eyes turned away but not without hints of curiosity within them.

This figure was new in the Daughter of Zion's camp, only appearing earlier in the day. She kept herself completely covered, not revealing an inch of skin. This was the first time she spoke, and most found her voice to be pleasant, a bit raspy but pleasant. Her cloak hid her features, and even the scans of those beyond Mortal could not penetrate it. Whoever she was, she was a powerful and resourceful individual.

"It was the age of the first of the Gods, led by Madris, who rose into the Astral Above after defeating the remnants of Oblivion," Lawruthian added, his eyes narrowed and vertical pupils appearing for a moment as he stared at the covered figure. He regained himself moments later, but not before a few figures could see the change within his eyes. The displayed horns didn't add any softness to his character.

"It was God EL who led the Gods into the Astral Above," Zeor responded fiercely.

Lawruthian waved his hand. "Whatever."

He wasn't much interested in the felion girl nor arguing with her. One glance told him she would oppose him whenever possible. Not for the fact that he was a magi, but for the fact that he was [End of Adventure].

"Ultimately, that is the Goddess's wish, a reestablishment of Union on the Mortal Plane. And, I… I am Her blade sent to carve out a New Union between those of the Saphen race," Lawruthian paused, gazing around. "It can be done through peace, if your nation claims allegiance to Great Edryan, or war, as the armies of magi march through your fields, slay your soldiers, and reeducate your people. I am not here to make threats, promises, yes, but not threats. I only wish to negate as much needless death as possible—let us take a small recess and return in thirty minutes."

Lawruthian stood, nodded, and turned to head outside to the balcony. His gaze lingered on the hooded figure last. As he rose, maids and other personnel entered carrying trays filled with food and snacks. A few followed him outside as the atmosphere lightened.

Lawruthian entered the balcony area, and a chill breeze brushed against his skin. Central was nearing its end, and soon, Fall or Color Fading would appear. He gazed up at the stars, at the constellation of the Goddess Madris and the three women who appeared near her. Stars outlined the appearance of his mother, which held pink hues, but his eyes focused on those of Demigoddess Kubrat. He knew she was hiding around here somewhere and wondered when she would bother to show herself.

He turned as a figure neared. The hooded figure stood before him. Their hood was low so as not to display any features, but Lawruthian understood they were a woman, unless they held some sort of magic that could alter their voice.

"Who are you," Lawruthian asked.

"Who are you," Wilarax questioned.

Both paused, eyes narrowed.

Wilarax's suspicions about the Chosen of Madris grew the more she stayed in Edryan and interacted with its people. Right here, right now, if she removed her blade and slayed him… would this impending continental war be stopped?

She fingered a spatial ring, hesitating. She was within distance that it'd be hard for even someone beyond mortal to stop her.

A single meter.

Just one hundred centimeters separated them.

The last two years of her traveling had brought… many eye openers of the continent. The misty mountains where she roamed, the dwarven caverns, and she explored the hidden depths of the world. She watched as they worked in tandem with dungeons and, in some cases, even fostered their own cities within some of the great dungeons.

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The gnome city-state of Ja'Forr, a marvel of gnomish technology that was able to move over fifteen million souls across the piece of the continent they occupied. It was just… unexpected. A city that could walk, split, and even fly in some cases. It showed her the power of magic on a national scale when every individual worked together for a greater purpose.

She explored the islands of the coast, diving into the seas and meeting with sea-folk near the shores of Isliall who lived in harmony with the elves there. Blue saltwater so clear it was almost as if it wasn't there at all. And, when looking from distant horizons, the sea and sky would meet, merging into an endless blue where one couldn't tell the difference.

This world was beautiful, and she learned and saw more and more of its beauty with every passing day. This new life, she wanted to protect it.

The people, whether it was the gnomes of Ja'Forr, those in the Temple of the Sun, or even the elves of Ivory and Demigoddess Innai. That sort of pain the demigoddess made, the scars she saw on her arms, on her body, she never wanted someone to experience that pain again.

She had seen good, and she had seen bad. Her very first steps outside of the Temple brought her in contact with the way humans or those resembling humans too closely were treated. They were second-class citizens at best.

She wanted to change it, and with time—not force, she could. It seemed to be a thing that she would never run out of, but Wilarax couldn't deny the preparations for war she'd seen. She couldn't lie to herself and say that the world was not preparing for conflict.

She looked at the leader of the magi, the [Chosen of Madris]. The one who would ignite this conflict. Slowly, she shifted away from fingering her ring. Even without the Goddess's divine quest that instructed this Chosen, there would be war.

That much was obvious, and as someone with an education from her previous life and compulsory education in history and other subjects, Wilarax understood what a power gap would cause in a world like this one. People were greedy, and the landscapes and borders would change irrespective of whether the Chosen of Madris would be the one to push the button or not. The man before her… was just permitted to start the game by the Gods. This was their chessboard, and the magi served as the white chess pieces who could move first.

Wilarax, having resolved her decision, now found herself in a silence that was nearing awkwardness as the two stood facing one another. She walked up to him, and it was fitting for her to initiate the conversation. But… she didn't know what she was now supposed to say. Or even if she should respond to the question they both posed, to reveal her identity as the Chosen of El.

Lawruthian stared at the hooded figure. They posed the question at the same time, but each held a different meaning.

Who are you?

He was the Chosen of Madris; that much was obvious, but that wasn't what the covered figure before him was asking.

"You know who I am," he responded, deciding to break the growing silence between them.

The figure was close, and Lawruthian didn't believe they were an assassin, but he couldn't be too certain. He'd already prepared to activate several skills, including (Party), should he need to immediately teleport away.

"Now, I ask again, who are you? You've come to my lands, hiding away your face. Not anyone or anything is invited into my home. Who… are you?"

The woman before him stayed quiet, and Lawruthian was beginning to suspect something was up. He frowned, about to speak again, if the figure didn't respond or made any move, Lawruthian was prepared to act, harshly .

The feeling of power he held was entirely different since emerging. The confidence within himself and his strength was indescribable. Lawruthian held a certainty in his protection. It was like… if the sky were to fall, he knew he could hold it.

The hooded figure sighed, his hands reached up, and revealed a pair of soft, feminine fingers that tightly grasped her hood. No more than a few minutes had passed since Lawruthian called for a break, and hushed whispers were taking place inside and outside as the multiple parties interacted.

Some, a rare few, believed the Chosen of Madris was genuine with his words, at least their intentions. Time would prove how true he kept to them. Others, the majority, still waited, observing. Great Edryan wasn't a force they could neglect solely due to the might of their God. Perhaps the country was weak, but its ability to call upon a weapon of mass destruction stood as a deterrent that would make all pause and question.

The Daughter of Zion moved toward them, calling out as the figure hesitated. "My Lady don't !"

Lawruthian narrowed his eyes. Who could the Daughter of Zion call my Lady?

The figure before him hesitated no longer.

"I am Wilarax Joi Simra Indrius, Daughter of Quinarax. They title me as the Boundless One, Friend of Nature, the World's Beloved, and…"

Wilarax pulled her hood down, her silver-gold eyes piercing into those of Lawruthian's. Her voice was strong, immersive, and resonated throughout the hall. The magic within the air seemed to cheer and the world itself seemed to brighten.

"I am the Chosen of El — destined to slay you. Destined to fight against the magi's war."

Lawruthian laughed, his eyes wide with interest. He looked the shorter elf up and down. This was his first time seeing a True Elf in person, and he noted several features different from their lesser cousins. He glanced at her ears, long, sharp, and pointed skyward. The woman before him held a lithe body that seemed honed to an astonishing degree. Her hair followed her eyes, a silver gradient that extended just past her shoulders. Her aura, once hidden by the cloak, was gentle but inclusive, as if she and the world were one and the same.

"Well then," Lawruthian responded, his voice filled with mirth at the situation. "Welcome to Great Edryan, welcome to Edrya — City of Heroes."

Lawruthian moved past her and began to head back into the hall. A small chuckle escaped as he did so. Wilarax stood there, stunned. Her expression was a mix of confusion and more. She turned and glanced back, partly toward the Chosen of Madris, partly toward the figures inside, a few of her escorts polymorphed to appear as Zeor's retainers.

Lucky — He Never Misses shrugged. Ahri was looking away, and the rest all held mixed expressions. Only Uma and a few remained at the hotel, the party having contacted her the night before and ultimately deciding on her protective detail.

Moonlight glittered down, casting a long shadow, and the moons continued their journey across the night sky. One, gold of Gods, one, blood red, and the final a pale blue reminiscent of Earth's.

"Wait," Wilarax called, nodding at Zeor, who stood next to her.

The Chosen of Madris turned, his gaze still held mirth, but ultimately disinterest in her. An action that was a first in a long, long time. The moment she stated her name and removed her hood, the various nation representatives all held mixed emotions. Most, like Alaric's, was a mix of shock, awe, and excitement. Others, like Allura, showed disinterest and even a hint of hostility.

This was natural; one of her bloodlines gave her sway over those derived from True Elves. And, humans always held a mixed bag of emotions when seeing her. Wilarax was surprised by none of it.

Her eyes once again met the Chosen of Madris's. She held questions, and he likely held answers to things she sought. There was one burning question at the top of her mind, but she hesitated to ask it. Of her closest friends and kin, it was only her father who knew she once held a previous life, that she once came from a place called Earth.

"Do you truly mean what you propose today? Do you truly wish to cause as little bloodshed as possible?"

Lawruthian laughed, answering before he turned and walked away. "Of course I do."