I desperately need help with the dialogue and its structure. There will be grammar issues. The spacing is a little strange on YWS, please try to ignore it.
He heard a footsteps running down the gravel road. Quickly, he extinguished his mage-light, magic was illegal for those not licensed to use it. A familiar patter, footsteps spaced out and strong. He walked forward, what did his idiot squire want this time?
"Sir! Sir! Please! Quick!"
"What is it Corvin? It better be important!"
The boy ran closer; he could see his clean dress uniform glowing white dark. Strange, dress uniform at this place at this time. Somebody important must have arrived at Rathbourne. Somebody important that would want to talk to him...
His mind automatically skipped to the worse case scenario, the warrior inside him stirring. His body launched forward, his head spinning as he sprinted towards the cold stone barracks, towards his destiny.
"Sir! Please Listen to me!"
“He’s here, Please kid tell me it not him."
“Please! can we slow down! I can't keep up!"
“My father does not wait for anyone, hurry!"
“It’s not... Your father... but the king..."
“My father is the King..."
It was dark. He ran his hand nervously though his long blonde hair. His squire was outside, not permitted an audience with their nation's great king. His father stood at the end of the well appointed study, hand clasped gently on the glowing glass orb, his personal guards standing stoically next to the rich battle scene tapestries. He was an old man but there was something about the way he held himself; back up straight eyes sparkling with the vigor that a younger man might envy. Arthmael fell gracefully to his knees, ceremonial knight’s helmet in one arm.
"Your majesty."
"I have heard of your success, it pleases me greatly. Did you collect the amulet? Strip the body? Take the monsters gold?"
"Yes, your majesty."
"Good, good. The death of that monster, Fanfir, will send shock waves though the blood of the magical scum. But most of all it will send a message to the three hags."
“The Transcending Sisterhood?"
“Naturally, naturally; they hold something I wish to have, that we all wish to have. Your squire understands the working of the sisterhood I hope?"
" Yes, Your majesty," he lied, he had more important things to teach his squire, the lore of a group of mad prophetic sisters seemed less important than the art of war and survival. He would have to tell the boy later.
"Good, good... Information has reached me. The fruitful sister reaches maturity. At last she will leave the threshold and protection of the sisterhood. She is their womb! The Sisterhood's only hope for a future, their only propagator. Without her they are nothing."
Arthmael suppressed a growl. He knew what his father wanted from him. His father stoked the glass holoball, it glowed a light green, light shinning from his smooth surface. The hologram map shone in the dim light, the illusion coming from the complex circuitry within the glass globe. He pointed at the map.
"This is human realm, the civilized world yet unsoiled by magical scum. But they are coming. Already they are destroying our cities, killing our people and taking what is rightfully ours. You my boy are our only savior! The sisters have knowledge and with knowledge come supremacy. It is our duty as men to take their power and save the human race from utter alienation!"
The old king paused, his hand gripping the air as if it where made out of pure authority. He smiled sinisterly at his knelling son. Even dressed in a simple suit he shone with the glory of power, the medals at his chest glistening in the glow of the orb, signaling the pure greatness of is influence.
“My boy, you must take the elfin maid and bring her to me. On the eve of her birthday she will leave the fold of the sisterhood. On a quest to find a mate, and ultimately breed the new generation of sisters, but she will not be without their protection. I hear of a mage, a foundling of the sisterhood, will be accompanying the child. It is a serious break from their staunch tradition, the maid usually goes alone. Never-the-less your skills are sufficient enough to bring down elfin mage. The dragon’s amulet was created by the mage; you will without a doubt be able to track her."
“I find the mage, I find the girl.... "
"Yes, my boy and by all means necessary you must bring the girl to me. She must not know of our plan, she must be willing or she might alert the sisterhood."
“The Mage? Shall I kill the witch? Or bring alive her to you"
“No, her death would alert the young sister. Keep her alive and under your influence until I have the girl. Then do what you please, drain her powers make them your own, make her your slave, exterminate her, do what you please. Her fate does not bother me."
“Have you talked to my mother lately?" he asked a question he was itching to ask. The king gave his son an acerbated look and gritted his teeth.
“No, I have not. Have you been in correspondence with her?"
"Yes, I have. She will know about this, you know I cannot hide anything from her."
"But you can boy and you will. She is the enemy and you very well know this. Avoid her at all costs, or face my wrath," he snarled in contempt, his creased white hands falling on to the smooth oak desk. With a step he turned around facing the wall in deep thought, with a step he had dismissed his son.
