Young Writers Society

Edon Shor: The Voice, leader of elves: Easy to offend. Good ally to have though he expects anyone who agrees with him in one area to agree with him in every area. Strong in a debate. Carries around that ridiculous spirituality. His biggest weakness is his arrogance. With his great intelligence, he thinks having anyone help him is only going to slow him down. He is the only one who doesn’t have an advisor of some sort. Idiot. We have a meeting planned for this evening to see where we stand with each other during this debacle.

King (in Waiting) Belon Augnik, ruler of men: young and wasteful. Half of his camp is a harem of all things. Just got in today, being the last to arrive. I have not been able to observe the inner workings of his company as of yet. I assume that he will merely be a puppet to an army of bickering advisors. Though young Augnik (supposedly) called us together, I hardly expect the boy to offer anything of worth during this time.

The nymphs: I have watched their camp bordering on obsessively the two days I have been here. I know nothing of use. It worries me that the nymphs feel they need to involve themselves at all. They don’t come in these numbers for mere conflicts.

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Her staff hit the ground with steady thumps muffled by the prickly grass as she made her way through camp, nodding every time a dwarf she passed murmured, “Golden,” gripping their right shoulder with their left hand until she was beyond them. It was slow going, being old and graceful. She could no longer rush through the tents, a purposeful look in her eye as her people fell back in admiration. She told herself she didn’t miss it.

She hadn’t lost her dwarves’ admiration even as her beauty faded and her agility slipped away. When she had slowly stopped training with her footmen there were no growls of discontent though the fear of such had pushed her to continue working her aching body even when the weight of a warrior’s staff made her arms tremble. She had many things to be thankful for.

“Maya!”

She didn’t turn. The Golden didn’t turn for anyone, but she could also hear the pounding of feet, not just one pair but several. She took a breath, held it for a moment, and slowly released it as she continued on her way. She only stopped when she could see her second youngest son in her peripheral. Scoffing a little, as he smirked at her, she completed their silent ritual with a small shrug before the rest of her sons surrounded her. She studied the five faces, all different, all beloved, and waited.

They were silent.

Huffing could be heard before her husband appeared, red faced, his round belly rising and falling with every gasp. She let him recover and open his mouth before cutting him off, her voice a whip, “Here, when we are a stone’s throw away from allies or enemies that need to respect me, I am only the Golden.” Her eyes never left her husband’s face as it returned to its normal ruddy pink. Setting her jaw, she revoked the affection that welled within her, knowing it would shine through her eyes.

He saw it anyway or at least saw the short struggle. She could tell by the small smile that twitched onto his lips before he looked down humbly. “Of course, my Golden. I apologize for the disrespect.” He glanced up, a question in his eyes. “You left without us.”

Sighing, she curled both hands around her staff. “Telin, Mordar, Vens, Lalkin, Nilda. You’re dismissed.” Waving forward as her sons quickly dispersed, she addressed her husband, “Relk, walk with me.” She continued forward, allowing him to take her arm. Again, she was quiet. The only sound between the old couple was the soft crunch of grass under their feet and the murmur of their people which neither of them really heard anymore, “Golden. Silver.”

Once upon a time, they would have strode past, a glorious pair, both ready to fight for one another and for their people, immortal deities for their people to bow to. Not so immortal. She studied the tent they walked past when once she would haven't had the time to give it a passing glance. The tent was long, with several doorways leading into different cells that acted as a sleeping place for one dwarf family. The red-orange dyed leather was of the finest quality, made of the hides from the newborn of the sun dwarves' flocks as an act of continued allegiance with the Golden. Gold thread illustrated myths. When there was no cloud cover or when there were torches and fires lit, the stories glittered and came to life. Her eyes wandered when they came to the end of the tent, and she wondered if she was going to have to study the next one too.

Relk let out an angry breath. “You know, this damned waiting is the worse part of being married to you, Maya.” His blonde hair was streaked with white, making it so the mane he was famous for dully gleamed in the sunlight when it had glowed in his youth. His dark gray eyes were adorned with crow’s feet. He was several stones heavier than he used to be or was good for him, and the years that he had survived seemed to have rested on the top of his head, driving him toward the ground. Maya remembered him being taller though he stood with the same proud stance she'd been charmed by in the beginning. Chin up, spine straight, shoulders back and never slouched, not even when exhaustion and worry were clear on his face.

“You make sure we never wait long, Silver.” She glanced at him as quiet fell again, smiling a little at beleaguered his sigh. She tugged his long beard affectionately and ran fingers through his hair. “You need to trim this. Braid your hair too as if we were going to attend a ceremony.” When she let him take her arm again, she slid her hand down to lock fingers with his, swinging their joined hands a little. “It is just that we can’t be too careful. You know this. It’s different from when we’re home. Surrounded by dwarves who love us, we can be partners. Surrounded by elf and man and nymph, I am in charge.” She squinted up at the disk of a sun veiled behind clouds as the elf camp came into view.

Detaching their hands, Relk nodded. “I hate this stuff. Since it had been so long since the last conflict, and this isn’t technically a meeting to resolve a conflict, I thought…” He stuffed his hands in his pockets, frowning down as he kicked at the grass. “You’re someone different when we have to deal with another race, Maya. I hate it.”

She took a few steps forward, frowning at what he said. “It has to be this way. I’m sorry.” She didn’t look back as she heard him walk away. She had to meet with Edon. Alone.