NO MATTER THE HARDSHIPS LIFE THROWS OUR WAY, WE MUST PERSEVERE AND KEEP MOVING FORWARD.
IN THE DIM LIGHT OF EVENING, A WEARY BUT RESILIENT JORDAN BRIGHTENED HIS DEMEANOR TO GREET HIS BROTHER SCORMETHEUS, A FIGURE NOT PARTICULARLY FAVORED BY THE COMMON CROWD.
"LONG TIME NO SEE, SCORMETHEUS. HOW HAVE YOU BEEN?"
"HA! YOU'RE ASKING AS IF YOU DON'T ALREADY KNOW. HAVEN'T YOU BEEN THE ONE COVERING FOR MY ESCAPADES AND SETTLING ALL MY RECKLESS BILLS?" SCORMETHEUS REPLIED WITH A SARDONIC GRIN.
"BROTHER, YOU MUST BE JESTING," JORDAN CHUCKLED, LIGHTENING THE MOOD AS THEY BOTH SHARED A LAUGH, A RARE MOMENT OF CAMARADERIE BETWEEN THEM.
AMONG THEIR KIN, THE ELVES, IT WAS WIDELY SPECULATED THAT THE BOND BETWEEN JORDAN, THE CURRENT CROWN PRINCE, AND SCORMETHEUS, THE FORMER HEIR, WAS FRAUGHT WITH TENSION. HOWEVER, THE REALITY WAS QUITE THE OPPOSITE. SCORMETHEUS HAD ONCE HELD THE TITLE OF CROWN PRINCE FOR AN EXTENDED PERIOD, SERVING NOT ONLY AS A BROTHER BUT ALSO AS A FATHER FIGURE WHEN THEIR FATHER, THE SAGE, WAS PREOCCUPIED WITH HIS SCHOLARLY RESEARCH AND STATE AFFAIRS. SCORMETHEUS'S LEADERSHIP HAD BEEN SOLID AND PARENTAL, SHAPING THE LIVES OF MANY OF HIS YOUNGER SIBLINGS MORE PROFOUNDLY THAN EVEN THEIR FATHER HAD.
THE TIDE TURNED WHEN AN UNFORTUNATE INCIDENT LED JORDAN TO ASSUME THE ROLE OF REGENT, NOT OUT OF AMBITION BUT DUE TO SCORMETHEUS'S OWN GRAVE ERRORS. WHEN A PUBLIC DISPUTE BETWEEN THE REGENT AND THE MONARCH AROSE, IT WAS A TESTAMENT TO THE SAGE'S MERCY THAT SCORMETHEUS WASN'T EXECUTED BUT MERELY STRIPPED OF HIS POWER.
IN THE INTRICATE DANCE OF FAMILY AND POLITICAL DYNAMICS, PERSONAL BONDS OFTEN REMAINED INTACT DESPITE POLITICAL DISAGREEMENTS. SCORMETHEUS'S SUBSEQUENT RECKLESS BEHAVIOR APPEARED TO BE A MIX OF SELF-PRESERVATION AND A POINTED STATEMENT THAT HE NO LONGER CARED FOR THE POLITICAL ARENA, OPTING INSTEAD FOR A LIFE OF INDULGENCE.
JORDAN, SEEING THIS, BELIEVED HIS BROTHER HAD RELINQUISHED ANY CHANCE TO AMEND HIS WAYS VOLUNTARILY, THUS LEAVING THE PATH CLEAR FOR JORDAN TO ASCEND TO POWER. HOWEVER, THE NUANCES OF THESE SHIFTS WERE NOT APPARENT TO ALL, LEAVING ROOM FOR POLITICAL OPPORTUNISTS AND SKEPTICS TO THRIVE. DURING THIS PERIOD, SCORMETHEUS WAS FREQUENTLY UNDER SURVEILLANCE, SUSPECTED OF BREWING CONSPIRACIES.
RECALLING THOSE DAYS, JORDAN REMEMBERED THE NUMEROUS "WELL-INTENTIONED" INFORMANTS WHO EAGERLY REPORTED EVERY SUPPOSED PLOT BY SCORMETHEUS. ENCOUNTERS ORCHESTRATED AS IF BY FATE, MEETINGS WITH INFLUENTIAL FIGURES, OR SECRETIVE DISCUSSIONS WITH ALLIES PAINTED SCORMETHEUS IN A CONSPIRATORIAL LIGHT, MUCH TO JORDAN'S FRUSTRATION. YET, THE INFORMANT WAS OFTEN SEEN AS A MERE SYMPATHETIC REFUGEE, WHICH TIED JORDAN'S HANDS FROM TAKING ANY DRASTIC ACTIONS.
THIS ATMOSPHERE OF SUSPICION AND TENSION, IF UNCHECKED, WAS BOUND TO ESCALATE INTO OUTRIGHT CONFLICT. SCORMETHEUS, PERHAPS FEELING CORNERED, BEGAN FREQUENTING BARS AND ENTERTAINMENT DISTRICTS, OFTEN RUNNING UP DEBTS HE COULDN'T PAY. IN A TWIST OF IRONY, HE WOULD CONFRONT ANY SUSPECTED SPY TRAILING HIM ON JORDAN'S BEHALF, FORCING THEM TO SETTLE HIS TABS.
"HEY, ISN'T THIS XX? YOU'RE NOT SPYING FOR MY BROTHER, ARE YOU? WELL, SINCE YOU'RE HERE, IT'S ONLY RIGHT THAT YOU PAY FOR MY EXPENSES. I'M NOT LETTING YOU GO UNTIL YOU DO," SCORMETHEUS WOULD DECLARE.
DESPITE HIS ROYAL STATUS, SCORMETHEUS FOUND HIMSELF UNABLE TO CONFRONT THESE SPIES DIRECTLY FOR FEAR OF TARNISHING HIS REPUTATION OR INADVERTENTLY DRAGGING HIS FELLOW ELVES INTO A POLITICAL SCANDAL. THUS, MANY SUCH ENCOUNTERS WERE RESOLVED WITH MONEY, A BITTERSWEET SOLUTION IN THE COMPLEX WEB OF ELF IN HIGH SOCIETY.
INDEED, THE TACTIC MIGHT APPEAR SIMPLE, BUT ITS IMPLICATIONS WERE SEVERELY HARSH. IF IT EVER CAME TO LIGHT THAT XX WAS TASKED BY JORDAN TO MONITOR THE OUSTED CROWN PRINCE SCORMETHEUS, THEN XX'S SUPERIORS OR AFFILIATED GROUPS WOULD CERTAINLY SEEK RETRIBUTION.
DRIVEN TO EXTREMES, SCORMETHEUS CHOSE TO DWELL PERMANENTLY IN THE ENTERTAINMENT VENUES, CLEVERLY WAITING FOR THE MOST NAIVE PATRONS TO SETTLE HIS ESCALATING TABS.
EVENTUALLY, HIS CONSTANT PRESENCE AND RECKLESS LIFESTYLE DETERRED HIS FOLLOWERS; THE ELVES GRADUALLY RECOGNIZED HIS DEEP-SEATED CORRUPTION WAS GENUINE, NOT AN ACT, AND THEY CEASED VISITING.
AFTER MANY YEARS APART, WHEN JORDAN AND SCORMETHEUS REUNITED, THEY HUMOROUSLY REFERENCED THE SAYING "KINGS NOT MEETING KINGS," WHICH SPARKED LAUGHTER AND DISSOLVED ANY REMAINING TENSION BETWEEN THEM. IT WAS AS THOUGH THEY HAD REVERTED TO THE DAYS BEFORE THEIR ESTRANGEMENT, RECALLING THE BROTHERHOOD THEY ONCE CHERISHED.
SITTING TOGETHER, IT SEEMED NO BARRIERS EXISTED BETWEEN THEM, YET UNDERLYING ISSUES HAD KEPT THEM APART FOR SO LONG. DESPITE THIS, IT WAS CLEAR THAT THEIR FORMER CLOSENESS COULD NEVER BE FULLY RECOVERED.
BUT FOR NOW, THE SEMBLANCE OF WARMTH AND BROTHERHOOD SCORMETHEUS DISPLAYED WAS WHAT JORDAN FOUND HIMSELF MISSING THE MOST, PARTICULARLY AFTER THE RECENT LOSS OF ANOTHER BROTHER.
"ARE YOU HERE FOR DARRYL'S FUNERAL? YOU'RE A BIT LATE. HAD YOU TOLD ME, I WOULD'VE DELAYED THE CEREMONY BY A COUPLE OF DAYS," JORDAN MENTIONED.
"THAT'S ACTUALLY WHY I'M HERE. IS DARYL TRULY GONE?"
"HE IS, INDEED. THE REBELS USED A POWERFUL ARTIFACT THAT NOT ONLY SHATTERED DARYL'S BUT ALSO FATALLY WOUNDED HIM."
IN THIS NEW ERA, THE ELF PRINCE AND THE SAGE DARED TO CLAIM GODHOOD, BACKED BY THEIR PROFOUND COMMAND OVER NATURE'S LAWS.
THE DIVINE ARTIFACT, WHICH MANIPULATED THESE LAWS, WAS CRUCIAL TO THEIR CLAIM OF IMMORTALITY. IF A BEING COULD NOT ACHIEVE ETERNAL LIFE, HOW COULD IT PRESUME TO BE DIVINE?
"IT'S SHOCKING HOW EASILY THE 'IMMORTALITY' MECHANISM MY FATHER DEVELOPED WAS COMPROMISED," SCORMETHEUS REFLECTED SOMBERLY.
THOUGH MORTALS MAY NOT REACH IMMORTALITY, THE LAWS OF NATURE ARE IMMUTABLE. RAIN NOURISHES LIFE, AND SUNLIGHT DISPERSES DARKNESS. HENCE, AS LONG AS THEIR DIVINE ARTIFACT REMAINED INTACT, THE ELF PRINCES AND SAGES WOULD ENDURE, THEIR SOULS TETHERED TO THESE ARTIFACTS, MAKING THEIR PHYSICAL FORMS MERELY VESSELS.
TO ANNIHILATE SUCH BEINGS, THEIR ENEMIES TARGETED THESE SACRED ARTIFACTS WITH SPECIALLY CRAFTED COUNTERPARTS, A TACTIC EFFECTIVELY EMPLOYED BY THE COALITION LEADERS.
THIS CAPABILITY TO TRANSCEND DEATH AND WIELD SUCH POWER MADE THEM, IN MANY WAYS, AKIN TO GODS. THIS NEWFOUND DIVINITY STRIPPED THEM OF PAST LIMITATIONS, INFUSING THEM WITH A HAUGHTY DISREGARD FOR LESSER RACES.
"A BUNCH OF PRIMITIVES," SCORMETHEUS SCOFFED DISMISSIVELY.
"INDEED, THEY'RE STILL WIELDING TOOLS OF IRON AND STONE, UNCHANGED FROM FIVE CENTURIES AGO, A TRULY BARBARIC BUNCH."
"STOP INSULTING THE MONKEYS," JORDAN SPAT, HIS VOICE DRIPPING WITH DISDAIN. "EVEN THEY HAVE THE SENSE NOT TO MATE SO CASUALLY. BUT NOW, THE WHOLE CONTINENT REEKS OF LESSER CREATURES, STINKING, INFERIOR BEINGS."
THE TENSION IN THE SMALL, DIMLY LIT ROOM GREW HEAVIER WITH EVERY WORD. IT WASN'T JUST THE ALCOHOL TALKING. THIS WAS THE VOICE OF FRUSTRATION, OF A WAR DRAGGING FAR TOO LONG AND COSTING FAR TOO MUCH. TWO ELVEN BROTHERS SAT ACROSS FROM ONE ANOTHER, THE CUPS OF WINE BETWEEN THEM NOW NEARLY EMPTY.
JORDAN, THE FAVORED PRINCE, HAD NEVER BEFORE VOICED DOUBT IN HIS FATHER'S GRAND PLAN, A CAMPAIGN THAT WAS SUPPOSED TO HAVE BEEN A SWIFT AND EASY CONQUEST. THE ARROGANCE OF THE ELVES HAD CONVINCED THEM THAT THEIR SUPERIOR CIVILIZATION, UNMATCHED TECHNOLOGY, AND DIVINE RIGHT TO RULE WOULD BE MORE THAN ENOUGH TO CRUSH THE COALITION FORCES WITHIN MONTHS. BUT REALITY HAD SHATTERED THAT ILLUSION. AND JORDAN, NORMALLY TOO PROUD TO ADMIT IT, WAS NOW WILLING TO ACKNOWLEDGE THE CRACKS.
"BACK THEN," HE SLURRED, HIS GAZE UNSTEADY, "YOU WARNED ME. YOU SAID THIS WAR WOULDN'T BE SO SIMPLE... THAT ONCE THE FIGHTING STALLED, IT WOULD BLEED BOTH SIDES DRY. YOU WERE RIGHT." HIS FLUSHED FACE BETRAYED HOW FAR HE'D SLIPPED INTO DRUNKENNESS, A STATE HE HAD PERHAPS SOUGHT OUT DELIBERATELY.
OPPOSITE HIM SAT SCORMETHEUS, THE "DEPOSED CROWN PRINCE," ONCE DISMISSED FOR HIS SO-CALLED DEFEATIST VIEWS. THE VERY BROTHER WHOSE PROPHECIES OF A GRIM, DRAWN-OUT WAR HAD BEEN SCORNED BY THEIR FATHER. YET NOW, MANY OF THOSE SAME DIRE PREDICTIONS HAD COME TRUE. THE ELVEN EMPIRE, FAR FROM THE GLORIOUS VICTORY THEY'D ENVISIONED, FOUND THEMSELVES LOCKED IN A BLOODY STALEMATE, THEIR FORCES DWINDLING, THEIR RESOURCES STRETCHED THIN.
DESPITE BEING PROVEN RIGHT, SCORMETHEUS DIDN'T GLOAT. HIS FACE WAS GRIM, THE WEIGHT OF HIS PAST DECISIONS PRESSING HEAVILY UPON HIM. HE SWIRLED THE WINE IN HIS GLASS, STARING INTO ITS DEPTHS AS IF HOPING FOR ANSWERS. "EVEN IF I HADN'T HELPED THEM," HE MUTTERED, HALF TO HIMSELF, "THE ELVES WOULDN'T HAVE WIPED THEM OUT. THE WAR WOULD HAVE DRAGGED ON EVEN LONGER... THE BALANCE EVEN HARDER TO SHIFT."
COUNTLESS NIGHTS, SCORMETHEUS HAD QUESTIONED HIMSELF, WONDERING IF HIS PAST CHOICES WERE TRULY RIGHT. HELPING THE COALITION HAD SEEMED NECESSARY AT THE TIME, A WAY TO PREVENT TOTAL ANNIHILATION. BUT NOW, AS THE WAR SPIRALED OUT OF CONTROL, THE DOUBTS GNAWED AT HIM. WHAT IF HE HAD FOUGHT AT HIS FATHER'S SIDE INSTEAD? WHAT IF, WITH ALL HIS STRENGTH, HE HAD HELPED TO CRUSH THE COALITION FORCES AND BRING THE WORLD UNDER ELVEN DOMINION?
BUT EACH TIME HE PLAYED OUT THAT SCENARIO, HE SAW THE SAME BLEAK OUTCOME. "WHO WOULD STOP IT THEN?" HE WHISPERED, MORE TO HIMSELF THAN TO JORDAN. "WHO COULD STOP THE HUNGER OF OUR OWN PEOPLE, THE GREED OF OUR OWN KIND?" THE TRUTH WAS PAINFULLY CLEAR: EVEN IF THEY WON THE WAR, THE REAL BATTLE; KEEPING THEIR FRACTURED SOCIETY FROM TEARING ITSELF APART, WOULD STILL AWAIT THEM. A CIVIL WAR AMONG THE ELVES, ONE THEY WOULD BE POWERLESS TO PREVENT, LOOMED ON THE HORIZON. AND SCORMETHEUS KNEW HE COULD NEVER LET IT COME TO THAT.
HIS RESOLVE HARDENED. HE DOWNED THE LAST OF HIS WINE AND SET THE CUP ASIDE, HIS EYES GLEAMING WITH NEWFOUND CLARITY. "ENOUGH OF THIS. HAVE ANOTHER DRINK." HE POURED MORE WINE, PUSHING THE CUP TOWARD HIS BROTHER. "IT'S A GIFT FROM THE ELF KING HIMSELF, A RARE VINTAGE. WE SHOULD ENJOY IT WHILE WE CAN."
JORDAN, DRUNK BEYOND REASONING NOW, CLUMSILY REACHED FOR THE CUP. HE SWAYED, BARELY MANAGING TO TAKE A SIP BEFORE COLLAPSING BACK ONTO HIS BED, HIS BODY LIMP AND UNRESPONSIVE. MOONLIGHT FILTERED THROUGH THE ROOM'S ROUND WINDOW, CASTING EERIE SHADOWS ON THE FLOOR.