The Guardians: Book One of the Restoration Series (3 page)

She shook her head, “Flare, You must decide this for yourself. This is your decision. This is your life.” She said the words emphatically. “You must make your own decisions and all I can do,
is
tell you to follow your heart.” She paused for a moment, and put her hand on Flare’s. “I have always followed my heart. It has sometimes gotten me into trouble, but you don't want to live your life saying ‘what if’. You must do what you think is right.”

Flare sat through the rest of dinner in silence. He felt torn between two worlds, not sure of which path to follow. He hardly could eat at all. After about twenty minutes of re-arranging the food on his plate, he broke the silence. “Mother, I need to think. May I be excused?”

“Of course.”

“Thanks.” Flare got up from the table, and walked out the back door. He walked among the trees on the back half of the estate. The sound of the wind blowing through the trees was calming. He stopped and sat on a bench, thinking. If he obeyed his grandfather, then he would not get to do what he had chosen. Elven youths were allowed to choose what they wanted to do. If their decisions were not to their parents liking, then their inheritance could be transferred to another sibling. But they were not restrained from following their chosen path. Flare was not due to inherit anything; therefore there was no reason for him to be denied his wish. But that was exactly what had happened; his grandfather had deliberately refused his choice. Not only that, but Flare suspected that he would be forcibly stopped if it came to that. If he decided to run, he doubted seriously that he would get very far. The elven guard knew the forest paths much better than he did, and they had outposts all throughout the forest. They would be able to catch him without any problems. If he was going to run, then he needed a way to get a head start. With this simple thought, a plan began to take shape.

Flare paced the woods all night long. He planned each step of his escape, and then he took the time to rethink each step, re-examining it to make sure that he had not missed anything.

He returned to the house early the next morning, just in time to bathe and eat breakfast. He quickly got ready and left for the palace. Even though he had planned, and re-planned, this part of his escape, the anxiety was eating at him. He had never lied to his grandfather before, and he was afraid that he wouldn't be very convincing. Would his lie be that obvious? Could he manage the deception?

After a brisk walk to the palace, he stopped on the palace steps to compose himself. Since he had gotten to the palace a few minutes early, he sat on the steps and went over his plan one more time. Lost in his thoughts, he barely noticed the early morning chill. After reassuring himself that there were no obvious problems with his lie, he got up and entered the palace.

At this time of the day, there were very few people about. A young elf was busy sweeping the floor, and nobody else was in sight, except the guards who were always there.

Flare walked toward the courtyard, and concentrated on keeping his story straight. Entering, he noticed two things immediately. The first thing he noticed was that the courtyard was all but deserted. The second thing was that Prince Yolstice was standing to the right of the king. He had not planned on the presence of his uncle. He had hoped to be able to manipulate his grandfather, but Yolstice would only complicate matters. He took a deep breath, and walked to the steps of the dais.

“Flare, you’re a few minutes early. That’s good. Promptness is a good virtue.” The king said quietly, his expression was stern, foreboding. He kept his eyes down.

“Have you reconsidered your conversation from yesterday?” Prince Yolstice
asked,
his arms across his chest.

“Yes, I have.” Flare said, refusing to even look at his uncle.

“You have!?” Exclaimed the prince, and the king raised his eyes to meet Flare's.

Flare had expected to surprise the king, but he had evidently caught both of them off guard. “Yes grandfather, I will do as you wish and become either a magician or a teacher. And, I would like to apologize to you for the incident that occurred yesterday at lunch.” He then deliberately dropped his eyes.

The king’s face was beaming, “Good, I don’t like arguing with family. I’m glad you have agreed with my wishes.”

Yolstice had recovered from his initial surprise, “I’m glad you’ve changed your mind. I guess we can arrange for you to leave this afternoon. I’ll make the arr...”

“Uh, grandfather.” He had to speak up to interrupt his uncle, “I had hoped that since I’m entering an academy soon, that I could go on a hunting trip. It will be a long time before I can go on another one.” The king’s face was indifferent, but Yolstice’s eyes had narrowed to mere slits. “When my trip is over, I will enter the academy.” Flare held his breath. Interrupting the prince was risky; it could very easily re-anger the king. Fortunately, it appeared he hadn't noticed.

“Well, that appears to be reasonable. Where did you intend to go?” The king asked.

Flare had also anticipated this question, and had prepared for it. This was crucial to his plan, and his stomach did flips as he continued the lie. “I was hoping to go north, and hunt around the Urlist mountain range.” Telur was to the south, so by saying that he wanted to go north, he hoped to turn aside any suspicion. Once again, the surprise was evident on the prince's face, but that was not good in Flare's estimation. If Yolstice was expecting him to want to go south, then perhaps the prince may have already guessed Flare's plan to run for Telur. He reminded himself to be very careful and keep the story straight.

The king considered the request for a moment, and then said. “Well, I will allow you to go on the hunting trip, but you probably shouldn’t go to the mountains. There have been reports of white dragons in that range. Also, I believe that goblins have come down from the north and entered the edge of the eternal forest. Maybe the south would be safer.”


Well ..
” Flare paused. Everything had occurred as he had hoped, except the smug look on Yolstice’s face. ‘Damn,' Flare thought, ‘he’s guessed the whole thing.’ He considered changing the plan, but that was risky. So, he continued on, “I could hunt and fish along the black river.” The black river was far to the south, along the edge of the eternal forest.

“That would be much better, I woul...” the king started to say.

Prince Yolstice interjected, “Father, perhaps a squad of the elven guard could accompany him, since he will be so close to the human territories.”

“That’s probably overdoing it; I have hunted along that river before by myself.” Flare said, getting nervous at his uncle's attempt to thwart his plan.

The king turned toward the prince, “Yolstice, I tend to agree with Flare. I think a squad of the elven guard is way too much.”

“But father. We have been receiving reports of the humans crossing the black river and hunting in the forest edge.” He turned toward Flare, with a sneer on his face. “I would hate for anything to happen to my
nephew
.”

His uncle's ‘new found affection’ for Flare was winning over his grandfather's opinion. Flare had to think fast. If he was stuck with a whole squad of the elven guard, then he wouldn’t have a chance to get away. “Grandfather, perhaps one guard would be sufficient for the trip.”

“No, I think that ...
”,
Yolstice started to say, but the king interrupted him.

“Yolstice, I think that one guard will be sufficient. Surely one guard can protect an elf within our own borders.” Feilolas turned back to Flare, “It’s settled. You can have twenty days for your hunting trip, and I will assign a guard to protect you. When are you going to leave?”

“Well, I guess I could leave tomorrow morning.” Flare said, his hopes rising.

“Fine.
Fine.
Why don’t you meet your escort at the main gate tomorrow, at
sunrise.
” The king seemed rather pleased. “Flare, I am really glad that you had a change of heart. I do not like being angry at family.”

Flare smiled at how easily his plan had worked. But now the hard part began, he had to carry out the rest of his escape. He bowed low, and said, “Thank you, Grandfather. You don't know how much this means to me.” Turning to leave, it seemed that he could feel the cold emanating from his uncle's stare.

Flare went home and began to pack. He packed several different hunting outfits. The outfits had been nice once, but were rather worn now. The last thing he
wanted,
was to make himself a target while traveling through human territories. The hunting outfits were green and brown and would help the wearer blend into the forest surroundings.

He also got his sword, which he had been given several years ago, on his twenty seventh
birthday
. The sword was solid, but had some dents and scratches. He had received basic instruction on sword fighting, as did all young elven men. When he left tomorrow, he would also carry three knives. He would put one on his belt, one in his boot, and one would be strapped to his leg. The knives were throwing knives, but he couldn’t hit a tree when he was standing four feet from it.

He packed ten silver pieces into a small leather bag, which would be worn on his belt. He hid the rest of his money in three small leather bags, which would be hidden on his person. He knew, from the stories, that he didn’t want people to know how much money he was carrying. Hidden in the three bags were forty four gold crowns, thirty two silver scepters, and thirty six bronze pennies. The coins were all elven, but it was all he had.

Flare went down-stairs to have Althos prepare provisions for his trip. He finally found him outside, supervising the servants. “Althos, I need you to prepare provisions for a twenty day hunting trip. I intend to leave at sunup tomorrow.”

“Certainly, sir.”
Althos said as he turned from watching the servants working on the lawn. He started to turn back, when a thought suddenly occurred to him. “Oh, by the way, your mother is with the lady Octura. Octura has gone into labor and she should have her baby sometime today.”

“Okay, thanks Althos.”

Flare spent the rest of the day double checking his supplies and rethinking his plan. The toughest thing
was not knowing
when he would see his mother or his few friends again. The initial excitement was now turning into anxiety and depression about leaving the only home he had ever known. A deep sadness threatened to overwhelm him, at the thought of not seeing his mother for a long time. But the decision was made, and he intended to see the plan through.

 

 

Flare arrived to dinner a few minutes late, but was surprised that his mother was not there. She was never late and disapproved when he was slow in arriving. He stopped an elven girl, who was setting the table. “Where is my mother?”

“I don’t know, sir. I haven’t seen her.”

“Well, do you know where Althos is?”

“Yes, sir.
He is in the kitchen, overseeing dinner preparations.”

Flare entered the kitchens, and found Althos helping arrange desserts. “Althos, what is keeping mother? Is everything okay with Octura?”

“No. I understand that she is having a difficult delivery.” Althos answered. “I think your mother will most likely stay with her until everything is over. I’m sorry, but I don’t know when she will be back.”

Flare's heart sank. If his mother wasn’t home by sunup, he didn’t know when he would be able to see her again. It would break his heart if he left without getting a chance to say good bye.

He barely ate dinner, before retiring to his bedroom, where he spent a sleepless night tossing and turning, before he got up and went for a walk. He spent an hour walking the grounds; after all he didn’t know when, if ever, he would be able to return to Solistine.

An hour before sunrise, Flare was dressed in a brown and green hunting outfit. He had on weather proof boots, and an elven cloak. The elven cloak was made of the finest elven fiber, and was enchanted. The cloak was water proof, and even though it was a thin material, it would keep the wearer as warm as any fur coat could. His sword was strapped to his belt, but it kept getting in his way as he walked. He was not used to wearing it.

Flare found Althos in the kitchen. “Did my mother ever come in last night?”

“Yes, sir.
In fact she came down a few minutes ago. She is waiting for you next to the gate.”

“Thanks.
Althos.
Good-bye.” Relief washed over him. At least he would get to say good-bye to his mother.

Flare left the house carrying his belongings and provisions. His mother was standing next to the main gate, holding the reins to a beautiful white mare. The horse had been loaned to him from the royal stables, but the stable boy had brought it by earlier than Flare had expected.

“Good morning, Flare.” Aliston said quietly.

“Good morning, mother.” Flare said, his eyes getting rather blurry. “Well, I’m leaving and I’m not sure when exactly I’ll be able to return.”

“I thought as much. Be careful, Flare. You don’t know what you’re getting yourself into. Always watch your back, even among those you think are your friends.” She paused for a moment, and seemed to be searching for words. “Flare, there are so many things that I wanted to tell you. Sometimes we allow things to get so tangled, and then we can't escape.” She paused again, trying hard not to cry. “Things are not always as they seem. Flaranthlas, I love y...” She couldn’t complete her sentence, before she broke into tears.

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