“A long, long time ago,” started Faredhiel on a soft tone, waking back and forth, “there were only three races on the Continent. The Elves, Dwarves, and Beauhemians, living in peace next to each other. Their lives were simple and merry; every day was like the other day, all songs, dances, and joy. But one day, things changed. A ship came over the sea, anchoring in what is now Ohst’s Port. On it, the first humans had escaped slavery. Back in the Grand South, they were the subjects of a powerful race of evil wizards: The Others. Such was the dread they inspired that the humans had only that name for them: The Others. The humans were welcomed; we, the original races, taught them all we knew. About plants, astronomy, writing, geometry, everything. For about one hundred years, all was good.”

“Hm..” started Heyra. “Our legends are a little diff…”

“Shush!” stopped her Feyra, eager to learn the elven mysteries.

“So, where was I? Yes. One hundred years of cohabitation. Humans spread on all the Continent. They founded Ohst, they founded the Coastal cities, Media, d’Ornia, the Western Autarchy…”

“Lau’s home…” sighed the archer.

“Lau, are you from the Autarchy or their hinterlands, the steppe?” asked the spy. “Just curious; I want to know more about you.”

“From the Autarchy,” replied Lau. “I was banished into the steppes later. They banish the people who break the law; they call us the lumpenproletariat.”

“Lau broke the law!” joked Diago. “Sorry, a rhyme is a rhyme, too powerful to let it go.”

“Yes, I know. It was rhyming that got me in trouble. One night, I got drunk, wrote a satire against the Secretary-General… and it caught on like a wild-fire because I was a renowned poet. That got me banished.”

“Oh, interesting. A renowned poet, you say? How much renown did you have?” asked Diago, curious.

Lau considered things for a second and decided to go the truth way.

“Renowned. Over one million copies of my books sold. The record.”

Diago wished he had never asked; they could see the envy in his eyes.

“One million? But... that means you are the great Lau Wei-Tsou!” exclaimed Faredhiel. “Your poetry is among the few human books we keep in our library.”

It was clear, Diago was a destroyed man. Long face, sighs silent tears, and all. No enemy in the ring could have produced him so much pain.

“Please, Dean Faredhiel, continue the story,” asked Feyra, for whom the western poetry was less critical than the elven legends.

“Sure. So, the humans spread on all the Continent. Then, disaster…”

“The Meteor?” asked Heyra. “The destruction of the Middle Countries, the apparition of the Desert? The migrations and wars that ensued?”

“Actually, no. Just before the Meteor, something else happened. Another ship appeared in the Port, but now, it was carrying The Others. A brutal war ensued, The Old City was destroyed, and the Ohstians fled. Then, the Others started to conquer the Continent. They marched towards the Middle Countries because they were the richest and the most powerful human settlements. And then, the Meteor fell, and the Others were destroyed, together with the Middlerners. In the context, the Others were forgotten, Ohst was reconstructed, and life continued. But now…”

“Let me guess, they are back!” said the spy. “Some escaped, or there are more of them back there in the Grand South. They are the third faction of the plot. It makes sense.”

“We have colonies in the islands for centuries and never met them!” protested Feyra. “There are millions of islands there. And we have colonized how many? Around one thousand, including every bit of land that has a shack on it. A sea nation of powerful wizards can keep a low profile if they want. Or maybe they are from the other part of the sea, the southwestern hemisphere.”

“Ladies, gentlemen, please! Can I continue?” asked Faredhiel.

“Sorry, sure!” exclaimed the spy.

“Errr… actually, that was it. They’ve returned. They want to conquer the Continent, and they started with Ohst because it has the Current, the fastest sea road to the south. They’ll then take d’Ornia because it’s the easiest way inside the Forest, which’s close enough to the logistic routes. Afterward, we follow. I hope you know your Realmpolitics. Whoever controls Ohst controls the Sea. Whoever controls the Forest controls the Continent. Whoever controls both…”

“Controls the Realm,” completed him Heyra.

“Yes. So we’re the next target. But we know they are coming, and we have the terrain advantage. We’ll prepare. The Forest diminishes their powers and amplifies ours. You’ll ask me…”

“What about the magic…” said Istaìnn.

“Of course, cuz. You, like all people with elven blood, can do magic. Most elves can do just menial magic, making plants grow faster and such things, but you, dear cousin, have a much bigger potential. I will train you; I am a decent wizard. It will be hard, you will wish to abandon, but…”

“I will never abandon!” he protested. “I’ll work no matter how hard to protect my princesses!”

His fiery tone was rewarded with another caress on the cheek, and again, he took the hand and kissed it, without even thinking.

“That’s good because doing magic is difficult.”

“That’s strange,” the spy frowned. “Because actually, it didn’t feel so hard to me; it’s just I cannot do it all the time.”

“I’ll explain tomorrow,” replied Faredhiel. “The sun has set. Let’s find you some accommodation.”

The room was dark now; the only illumination was from the moons’ light, which bathed the dome’s roof. The elf lightened a bioluminescent lantern and led the way back in the main building.