Wild Monster

by Matthew Harrington

  But something most unexpected had occurred only seconds later. The arrival of the Lord Commander along with his daughter had surely brought short relief to Edenir, seeing that Aireiel is safe and finally by his side. Yet once he took a better look at Meatherion and one of his hands which clamped Aireiel's forearm in a firm grip that Edenir strongly disapproved, his eyes followed towards the other hand that held something that nearly robbed Edenir of his breath. It was something Edenir was very familiar with and was positive did not belong to the person who was now holding it. Even though heated words were ready to burst out of him, he managed to control himself in time. He figured bringing this item in the presence of both him and Aireiel was definitely some sort of cheap trick of manipulation from which the King was probably hoping he would receive sought answers. Unless, Edenir cunningly thought, they do not know it belongs to us.

  "Please be seated," Thranduil bade the newcomers who followed the instructions. Edenir did not take his eyes of the thing Meatherion carefully placed before him now. But once he rested his eyes and mind of burdening himself by glaring at the item so avidly, he directed his eyes towards his daughter and saw she had employed exactly the same expression. A look of twinge, discomfiture, and insecurity. To be honest, Edenir was a bit worried she had let herself reveal her true emotions to everybody here and there were without doubt individuals who certainly could use that against her. As soon as Aireiel separated her glare from the object, she too searched for her father and found him in great disappointment which she understood as a reproach of her recent disgraceful behaviour. Aireiel instantly straightened her back and placed her silken hands on the smooth surface of the cold wooden table expanding in front of her. She did not even need to turn her neck to feel a scorching glare of expectation and admiration from the King. She knew she could easily secretly slake his want by returning him a stare, but she dared not defy her father once more for now was not appropriate time nor place for such brazen amusement.

  "It is a very pleasant sight to see father and daughter united again, even though in such bitter circumstances," Thranduil began adroitly as usual. "As you have both most probably noticed, you have been summoned here for a reason. I have already very thoroughly explained the meaning of this meeting and its proceeding to your father, therefore I believe it is without use to repeat myself to you as well, neth híril," the King effortlessly turned his head towards Aireiel in one motion, "for I am sure you are already quite familiar with the formal part of interrogations." (Young lady)

  Needless to say Aireiel was both appalled and frightened by the uttered words to which she did not find a more appropriate and unrevealing response than to merely devote the King a look she hoped would be convincing and believing enough. Aireiel realised that ever since they'd arrived to the palace, this was perhaps the most brittle and crucial situation they'd gotten in, as she was also aware that the regulation of her behaviour and manner might determine both of their uncertain fates. As she let the King hold his presumptuous gaze upon her a little longer, she realised a lot was at stake this very moment, and that father was most probably having high expectations of her. After the King had made it publicly known he found her irresistibly charming and captivating, Edenir shamelessly gave the impression that they needed to seize this chance while they were still at King's mercy, and that (in case the rumours would turn out to be correct which they highly likely would) was always a very unstable state.

  Aireiel now followed Meatherion's slight gesture of politeness that showed her the way to her seat and kept her eyes wide open to the current flow of events. While she had to maintain the look of perfect concentration and attentiveness, the pressure of the situation was slowly consuming her mind. Behind the adamant wall she had build for protection, her world was falling apart. She could no longer tell apart foe from friend, a person who wished her good or harm. Could she even trust her own father? It seemed as if the desire and relentless need for approval of their true worth had truly changed him as an ellon. First thing she'd noticed was that Edenir's morals and principles had definitely changed in the short period of time they had been stuck here. It was as if he genuinely sought the King's admiration he used to despise and detest so fervently. Perhaps the influence of royalty's presence had had such a big impact on him, Aireiel thought, but one thing she was absolutely sure of: if it were on someone to get them out of this mess, it was on her. Something inside her had told her that despite the unfairness of it all, she was to settle this here and now, once and for all.

  "I was not aware I am to be a part of a formal interrogation," was Aireiel's quick response. "What justifies it, if I may ask?"

  "One would hope you might know this already, assuming by your exceptional gift of perception," Thranduil fired back as if he knew exactly what Aireiel was trying to achieve.

  If Aireiel was determined to play this conniving game, she needed to acknowledge the opponent and his advantages as well as the rules of the game. Her slick tongue might have gotten her far in the past when she was able to rely on her father's protection and support at any time, regardless of the inanity of the act. But once they were faced with the brutal reality of making it entirely on their own without any support at all, they could no longer afford childish mistakes and foolish inaccuracies. One false step could mean doom for them both.

  Seeing the elleth had chosen to remain quiet for now, Thranduil, being obviously satisfied with the result, continued.

  "To continue with my explanation, there is another thing I feel obliged to inform you about," the King slowly began to open probably the most delicate part of the meeting. "There has been another incident to which you are not directly linked, but we have reasons to believe these two occurrences are somehow linked," Thranduil continued, overlooking Edenir's obvious growing anxiety about what was to come.

  "An awfully brutal murder of one of the Council members took place within the halls of the palace almost a full week ago. The investigation of the circumstances is still ongoing and progressing with full speed each day. I dare to believe I speak honestly in the name of the entire room when I say we shall get to the bottom of this gruesome act and the reason behind it." He let the words sink in for a moment, before he softly carried on. "Your appearance at the fortress could not have arrived more inconveniently arranged for all of us. However, drastic times call for drastic measures. We simply could not let you pass without examining you first, subconsciously hoping we might perhaps find a bond that could help us understand the recent events. I am not overstating when claiming this is entirely uncharacteristic of our Realm. Strange events have been occurring within our borders, events that even the brightest of our kin cannot find a legitimate explanation for. It is safe to say a state of chaos has prevailed over our lands, and we are currently doing everything in our power to lessen its effects."

  Just as Thranduil had predicted, the long awaited clarification of their unjust detention left both of the guests with grimaced face and an unreadable expression bending their features. After quite a thorough deliberation, Edenir raised his head towards the King.

  "I appreciate the explanation we have both hoped to hear," he began, "but if you have not found what you have been eagerly looking for in us, I do not see what is the meaning of this prolonged detention."

  Thranduil sighed in slight irritation since he was well aware there was no way he could have avoided additional questions coming right from the father. One could say he could have prepared himself for it, but he chose not to as a result of his relentlessly obdurate nature.

  "The Council has mutually come to the agreement that the arrival of these newcomers should be taken advantage of in the most beneficial way we could think of. Which essentially meant to use the means of torture until we got the required information out of you and then get rid of whatever we should deem useless," Thranduil explained and continued, "but something else entirely occupied my mind. Something that might bring us closer to our goal that we could ever dream. Something which would enable us such
advantage against our enemy that it could be almost considered as victory itself."

  "It is not often we come across such a rare, invaluable gift that you have brought to us. The Gods have granted us a very generous fortune this season, that much is clear. What the Divine will shall bring to us in the near future is solely upon you," the King addressed the two guests. "For only you can perhaps salvage what has remained of this shattered kingdom."

  The speech took a turn nobody in the room had expected to hear, perhaps not even the King himself. Switching from one mood to another, swaying between reality and expectation had exhausted Thranduil to the point where he could no longer maintain the mask of a cold, impervious ruler. Whether he liked it or not, he had reached the point where, for the sake of his people, he had to admit it to himself as well as those present that deep down in his soul, numbed of cold and grief, he still remained raw, pliable, and… human. He simply deemed nobody worthy enough to let them see this safely secured side of him. Sometimes not even those closest to him.

  Despite inner tempest ravaging his soul, Thranduil now gracefully stood up from his seat and circled around others for a few seconds. Just as Edenir had expected, the King would stop at Meatherion's side, keenly eyeing the object laid on the wooden table. It undoubtedly attracted the attention of all present at the moment, yet one individual was especially drawn to it, and it certainly was not Meatherion. One could not deny there was exceptional power tied to the mystic weapon that had enchanted all of them, however the energy stored within could produce music that could be heard only by a selected few. This specific sort of chant levitated amid the gathered group, creating a form of daze to enter the minds of the weakest among them. The ancient melody carried along a rare spell so hoary and mighty it affected each individual in its own way. The frivolous and naive minds were quickly deceived by the seemingly harmless power hidden inside the weapon; great, yet craven and dispirited souls were drawn by its emanating glory and reputation which they desired solely for themselves; those of avaricious, fiendish, and irreverent mentality could as well be persuaded to think this magical object was a divine bequest by the Gods which would prove their existence as holy as the tradition itself. All of those minds were driven by one single purpose: possession of immeasurable power to reign over others. However, there was one exception among those voracious minds, one that dared to differ, and one that could understand the sword's sweet lilt. Such minds were very rare to come across, but once you did, it was certain those minds were destined to create great things.

  "Indeed, your ears have not tricked you," the King dramatically broke the anxious silence declaring, "we have a spy in our midst."

  The tension in the room rised to such level one could almost hear the sudden, acute pounding of neck veins, the trickle of sweat slowly progressing its way down their hairline in thick drops, the frozen, absent look in each individual's eyes for they had all realised they were to be a part of something historical.

  "My Lord," Calaron finally calmed himself down to catch his breath. "These are serious accusations. But are they premised on anything?"

  It might have seemed as if Calaron yet again displayed lack of faith in his leader, while in all honesty, the First Sage wanted to believe those words to be true as anyone in the room. If Thranduil's sudden proclamation meant they had finally arrived to a plausible clarification of the mess that had been prevailing at court ever since the news of murder spread, this could eventually lead to the long awaited recovery of peace in the Woodland Realm.

  "There are things I have intentionally kept from your knowledge for which I take entire responsibility," Thranduil addressed the gathered group. "I am not proud of what I have done, but trust me when I say it was for your own good. The less information, the safer we are."

  The King allowed them to comfortably settle in their seats while he roamed back to his appointed space. What he was about to tell them certainly required a fair amount of concentration, courage, and patience. He successfully managed to conceal what had truly been worrying him for the past two stressful days, ever since he received the healers' full report of the autopsy which he discreetly thoroughly analysed when he was able to sneak into his chambers unseen. The disordered heaps of scrolls that rested unravelled, still, and untouched in their complicated position on Thranduil's working surfaces in his secured quarters, were the crucial and indispensable piece of evidence that formed the basis of his theory. Thranduil had not eaten or slept for as many hours as it took him to systematically look through and arrange the reports for it was his mission to search as deep as it was necessary to fully comprehend the written words. He needed to be absolutely sure the healers were certain and to understand himself the consequences of what was written. It would unmistakeably present the greatest challenge the Realm had ever faced.

  "Two moons past I received a fully completed report of the ellon's autopsy which was performed several days ago," Thranduil began slowly while observing their faces and keeping a watchful eye upon any slight changes on their still features. "However, I decided to delay the passing of the information to you since the discovery I have come across have stirred some severe disbelief and repudiation within me for which I may or may have not had a reason. In conclusion, I stand behind my actions and I agree if you deem them selfish, unforgiving, and insolent. As a king, I am in possession of a lot of facts I often choose not to share with you. As a king, I have the right to act solely upon the behalf of my own will and judgement. This time I was left with two options. I could either have kept this entirely to myself until our judgement day would come upon us or I could seek help in most sensible people I have the privilege to know. Obviously, the decision was not particularly difficult."

  "The report contained complete detail of how and when the ellon was murdered. Moreover, they were able to determine what sort of wickedness caused him to suffer such unimaginable pain. The healers discovered what was the initial cause of death through unconventional methods of examination which we could argue are a bit more unethical. This resulted in providing us almost perfect analysis of the ellon's fluid alternation. His blood, that was nowhere to be found at the scene, was turned black which leads us to only one probable conclusion – the involvement of black magic."

  The said statement left a distinct impact on the listeners. It was as if their eyes froze in the moment they realised the words they were hearing. Their hearts were beginning to sense the cold and cruelty of the situation, the raw exposure to such revelation left them all speechless.

  Only now Thranduil had come to see why detaining this key discovery should only have been longer. How could he possibly think they were ready? He did not think of them as inapt or incapable of comprehending the consequences on their own. However, once he saw how gobsmacked they truly were, he did begin to doubt his decision of sharing the information with them since he started to realise they had absolutely no idea of what was coming their way.

  "My Lord, I..." Calaron's words fell silent as he deepened in his thoughts once more.

  Suddenly, in the middle of the extremely tense atmosphere, Edenir decisively stood from his chair and looked the King straight into his icy eyes.

  "Your Majesty, while I still somehow trust this might come to have some sort of meaning at the end, I fail to see how this has anything to do with me and my daughter," his hand flew in Aireiel's direction. "Indeed we came at your request and we are deeply grateful for all the kind hospitality you showed us, but I fear this is just beyond us both. We are of absolutely no use to you."

  "There, my dear mellon," Thranduil subtly chuckled, "is where you are wrong."

  Before Edenir could object to this confusing answer, Thranduil asked him to indulge him a little more patience for things would indeed start to become clearer. But even the King himself feared what sort of additional nuisance would his explanation cause among others present.

  "The traced source of the means which killed our fellow kinsman leads us right here, to our very own territory," the rule
r continued with a cold voice. "What caused the poor ellon's demise was a deadly poison of Egil's Vipers 1. Its venom is quite a common use of extermination, nothing we have not seen before. But there is one inconvenience. The species was wiped out of the Rhovanion region several decades ago, due to a specific epidemic it caused near the plains of Talath Harroch. There is only one place that has kept a sample of its venom in case of another outbreak. You may have one guess where that is."

  "But how by Gods was it possible for one individual to pass dozens of heavy-equipped guards unseen and was able to nick a secured item whose whereabouts were known only to a selected few?" Meatherion interfered passionately. It still puzzled him how someone had deceived him with such a cheap trick.

  "The answer is hidden in your question, dear Meatherion," the King replied. "It was not a single man's mind that invented this most genius treachery. Oh no, it must have been planned months ago. Someone has been playing with our minds ever since we spotted the spiders' uncharacteristic behaviour in the South. This sick game was invented by a mastermind of a special kind."

  Calaron continued to observe the polished table in silence as he had been for the past ten minutes. Thranduil's words perhaps hit him the most of them all. It shocked him right to the core of his soul for he subconsciously began to take the blame for what had happened. His reasonable and rational side told him to act swift and make an end to this disarray once and for all, while his heart commanded him he ought to punish himself for his negligence and sloppiness that resulted in most shocking outcome. It did not take him long before he even made himself believe he should have prevented the terrible occurrence in some way, although a part of him knew he could not have possibly influence the flow of the events. Now it was only the matter of discipline and willpower that he let his reasonable side guide his actions.