By Amanda Pizzolatto alias Aurora Mandeville

Word Count: 1490

Rating: G

Summary: When evil forces try to prevent a prophecy of peace from coming to fruition, Elves and Hobs must join together to stop them.

Early the next morning, the entire household was bustling with activity, the hobs getting breakfast prepared while the elves gathered their belongings for the journey home. The elves quickly ate their breakfast and, after warmly wishing the hobs farewell, they set off. As before, Leran kept them going at a steady pace, a bit faster now that the hob was safe.

Two days out from Elden, the capital of Resond, they met up with the rest of Leran’s troop, bearing good tidings of a safe trip. Once within the limits of Elden, Leran sent his soldiers home and personally escorted the Princess Milana to her family.

“Milana!” exclaimed Queen Loryna, embracing her eldest. “Thank Yelwa you’re safe!”

“Thank you, Captain Leran,” said King Elan. “How can we ever repay you and your men?”

“No need, your majesty, we’re just glad we could get your daughter home safely. Though, may I have a word?”

The king glanced at his family embracing before turning back to Leran and nodding. “Follow me.”

Leran went with him to the garden. The sun had almost set, its last rays lingering as if, like Leran, it wanted to keep the darkness at bay forever. But both knew that the coming of the night was inevitable, and so the sun gave way to the silvery moons and their host of glittering stars.

“What is it, Leran?”

The captain glanced at his king with reverence before sighing; he had no desire to worry his liege, but he had to know. “The princess wasn’t the only one taken, my lord.”

“Oh?”

Leran let out another sigh. “There were three others, one from each race.”

King Elan’s eyes narrowed. “They were trying to stop the fulfillment of the prophecy.”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did you make sure the other three, especially the hob, made it home safely?”

“Yes sir, the hob, in fact, was from Hobera. Since Hobera was on the way, I personally made sure he made it home.”

“He?”

“Yes sir, Muno Bixel, a merchant.”

“And the other two?”

“Brera, a dyer from Rorin, and Freylif, a jeweler from Belkard.”

“From the capitals?”

Leran nodded.

“And the wrong genders, at that.”

“My lord?”

It was Elan’s turn to sigh. “My advisors made a breakthrough concerning the prophecy; the female is a hob.”

Leran’s eyes grew wide. “Really?”

Elan nodded. “Yes, and we also know the date when this will take place, give or take a few days.”

Leran gasped. “When?”

A sad look came into Elan’s eyes. “The twenty-sixth of Kinar.”

Leran’s face became grim. “And if Sandor wins, the new year will open with his reign.”

Elan nodded, a smile forming. “But if Sandor knows anything about prophecies, they always have a way of becoming fulfilled.”

Leran gave a slight chuckle. “That they do, your majesty, that they do. It encourages me that Yelwa keeps His promises, no matter what.”

“Yes it does. I wonder if you needed to meet those three for a reason.”

“Who knows? I don’t know about Brera or Freylif since I had my lieutenant, Ceron Imera, escort them home. But Muno, I’m not really sure, your majesty; maybe his sister . . .”

“He has a sister?”

“Yes sir, Fralla Bixel.”

“Hmm . . . maybe . . .”

A boy approached them. “Um, Father? Sorry to interrupt, but mother wanted me to ask Captain Leran if he wanted to stay for dinner.”

“Ah yes, a very important decision; what do you say, Captain Leran?”

Leran gave a slight smile. “Thank you, Prince Liloras, for the invitation. You may let your mother know that I gratefully and delightfully accept the kind offer.”

“Very well, I shall let Milana—I mean, mother know,” grinned Liloras, with a rather mischievous glint in his eye.

“Of course you will,” muttered Leran as Elan shooed off his youngest.

“My apologies, Leran. Liloras does not understand his boundaries just yet. Though, I must admit, he does make things interesting.”

“I can imagine,” scoffed Leran.

“I’m not sure; you’ve only seen the mild side of him.”

“Wow, but I’m sure you consider it a blessing.”

The king raised an eyebrow questioningly.

“He scares off all of your daughters’ suitors.”

The king looked at his captain for a second, then burst out into a hearty laugh, followed by Leran. “That is true, but he has not scared off all suitors, and I am thankful for that. Come, dinner should be ready soon, and we will return to our previous discussion afterwards. It is important, and I want to be sure that we are ready.”

“Of course, your majesty.” Following his king, Leran went in to dinner.

 

It wasn’t until after Queen Loryna had finally managed to corral the children in their rooms that the elves could return to their discussion.

“Your majesty, I thought of something at the dinner table.”

“Oh? And what’s that?”

“Would it actually be the twenty-sixth of Kinar of this year, or could it be next year? Or even a decade from now? Knowing the date is good and all, but what about the year?” Leran watched the king sit back in his chair, musing over the question, his eyes changing from brown to grey to tawny to hazel, and back to brown.

“A good question—interesting, but good. What year, indeed? Good catch, Leran. If I had released that information this year, the people will believe that the new year would begin with joy. But if the prophecy is not fulfilled by then, then I have given a lie and a false hope, something Sandor and other slaves of Moranth would do. A good catch indeed, Leran.”

Leran opened his mouth to thank the king, but clamped it shut immediately. Elan’s eyes had turned gold.

“One day we shall return,” intoned the king in the words of the prophecy. “Males and a female will call us. Elf, hob, a dwarf, and a berserker, Will be there to welcome us. All will be glad For the evil one will be gone, Returning peace to the land, One that will last very long.” He paused. “They had just noticed that the first letter of each line spelled Omera Fro when Milana was taken.”

“Yes, the New Year’s celebrations; to have them return to bring in the new year would be wonderful indeed.”

“That it would, that it would.”

“Your majesty, may I ask a question concerning the prophecy?”

“You may, Leran; what is it?”

“Well, sir, would it not be best to let the prophecy come to light in its own time, the way Yelwa planned it?”

“Meaning?”

“Meaning, sir, we let Yelwa surprise us. It is His way of letting us know He cares for us and is watching over us.”

There was a pause as Elan stared at him in surprise. “Since when is my captain wiser than I?”

Leran blushed. “M-my lord, I am not wiser than you!”

Elan chuckled. “In this instance, you are. I will leave the prophecy in peace. Perhaps now we have enough information that will help us to recognize the fulfillment of the prophecy, or when it is close. Come, let us speak of other things. Tell me about Muno Bixel and his sister.” Leran obliged, and the two talked long into the night.

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