Hail The King
I stayed among my grandfather and King Aren for several more months, my grandfathers siguls and glyphs helping me to regain my true form. My grandfather helped me, training me in many techniques and getting me stronger mentally, while I helped out the kingdom in general tasks set to me by King Aren. Many elves did not like the king, as most elves feel superior, and as such treat others as if made of better stock. King Aren felt that everyone should be treated equally, and as such, the elves believed there way of life was becoming threatened. So while I trained with my grandfather, I was also a body gurad of the kings.
As it happens everytime I am to be asked to be of use, disaster strikes. King Aren wished to join a few of his soldiers on patrol while I was on duty, so naturally I had to join him. My grandfather had left for a few days to get some sort of ingredients from a nearby village, which seemed convienient, looking back on it, seeing as whenever he showed up or dissapeared, disaster struck. As we were on patrol, we were suddenly attacked by what seemed to be a scouting party of orcs. Five elves, and me, versus twenty orcs, at first we believed this would be no problem. Hardly a challenge, until the three guards on duty turned and attacked their king!
Apparently some of the guards had joined a secret rebellion, who were in contact with a small tribe of orcs. They bargained for land and the elves promised it, as long as the orcs sacrificed a small number in aide of killing their king. It was a half-cocked plan, but what's worse was it worked. The elves battled their king while I did my best to fend off the orcs, who were attempting to pay me no heed.
The end result was the orcs, about seven or so, survived, and one elf got away, leaving my new friend upon the ground. Bleeding out, and with no way to help him, I fell to my knees next to him. He smiled up at me, his crystal clear eyes seeming to stare straight into my soul, and spoke. "Fujiwara. It's time for you to continue your journey anew." I didnt know what to say, I didnt know what to do. He died moments later. So I picked him up, and made my way back to the city, my rage growing with every step. Before I was half way, the elf who had fled had brought back most of the entire elven guards.
I knew what had happened of course. I was framed, and the real killer was standing only feet away. I set King Aren down, knowing that they meant to arrest me, or kill me, I did not know for sure since by this time my rage boiled over into my ears. Some gurads strode forward, possibly to take me, but it wasn't happening. I moved faster than I had ever ran before in my human form, seeming to dissapear from the spot and reappear behind the traitorous elf, taking his head from his shoulders before he had time to register that he was dead.
I then ran, knowing they would bury there king, and that I would forever be hunted by those elves as the slayer of their king, even if they liked him or not.
I stayed among my grandfather and King Aren for several more months, my grandfathers siguls and glyphs helping me to regain my true form. My grandfather helped me, training me in many techniques and getting me stronger mentally, while I helped out the kingdom in general tasks set to me by King Aren. Many elves did not like the king, as most elves feel superior, and as such treat others as if made of better stock. King Aren felt that everyone should be treated equally, and as such, the elves believed there way of life was becoming threatened. So while I trained with my grandfather, I was also a body gurad of the kings.
As it happens everytime I am to be asked to be of use, disaster strikes. King Aren wished to join a few of his soldiers on patrol while I was on duty, so naturally I had to join him. My grandfather had left for a few days to get some sort of ingredients from a nearby village, which seemed convienient, looking back on it, seeing as whenever he showed up or dissapeared, disaster struck. As we were on patrol, we were suddenly attacked by what seemed to be a scouting party of orcs. Five elves, and me, versus twenty orcs, at first we believed this would be no problem. Hardly a challenge, until the three guards on duty turned and attacked their king!
Apparently some of the guards had joined a secret rebellion, who were in contact with a small tribe of orcs. They bargained for land and the elves promised it, as long as the orcs sacrificed a small number in aide of killing their king. It was a half-cocked plan, but what's worse was it worked. The elves battled their king while I did my best to fend off the orcs, who were attempting to pay me no heed.
The end result was the orcs, about seven or so, survived, and one elf got away, leaving my new friend upon the ground. Bleeding out, and with no way to help him, I fell to my knees next to him. He smiled up at me, his crystal clear eyes seeming to stare straight into my soul, and spoke. "Fujiwara. It's time for you to continue your journey anew." I didnt know what to say, I didnt know what to do. He died moments later. So I picked him up, and made my way back to the city, my rage growing with every step. Before I was half way, the elf who had fled had brought back most of the entire elven guards.
I knew what had happened of course. I was framed, and the real killer was standing only feet away. I set King Aren down, knowing that they meant to arrest me, or kill me, I did not know for sure since by this time my rage boiled over into my ears. Some gurads strode forward, possibly to take me, but it wasn't happening. I moved faster than I had ever ran before in my human form, seeming to dissapear from the spot and reappear behind the traitorous elf, taking his head from his shoulders before he had time to register that he was dead.
I then ran, knowing they would bury there king, and that I would forever be hunted by those elves as the slayer of their king, even if they liked him or not.
