For a giant sized owl, Isaac is baffled at how slow their mount is flying. They pass by the border which the undead have continued to grow in numbers. Stretching far and into the tall grass of Gestel plains. “I need to go back” he says through the stiff rotten air
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“No, ye will help me convince someone.” Olwan replies,
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“What makes you think that I can do that?”
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“Because ye are Hemrean. And Hemreans know each other best”
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“That is not true at all, fly me back!”
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But they continue flying forwards. Touching the chokeful of ash clouds that shadow a camp below.
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“Barbarians?” Isaac asks
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“War camps” coughing and pulling the owl’s feathers up for the bird to fly higher. Rising away from the dark clouds. And seeing cloud sprites weeping.
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“What happened to them?” Isaac asks again
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Which Olwan wonders as well but she only pats the owl to ride faster. “Tell me if ye see a strange giant cloud. It would be bad if we get caught in one.”
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They fly, rather smoothly that Olwan thinks it is strange. And the cloud sprites are mostly weeping. Thinking that it is because of the Hemreans and their military camps. The owl eventually glides down, and above a familiar kingdom. Isaac notices but does not say anything as they whoosh pass the rooftops and head straight for the Castle throne room. Windows big enough for the giant owl to glide in.
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Olwan sliding down from the mount and immediately being met by spears threatening her abdomen. And bowstrings stretch back towards Isaac who has yet to climb down. “Why did we go straight in!?”
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“Cause their windows are open.” Olwan says, setting her eyes on the old man on the throne,
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“Does not mean we can just go in. It is like the borders, there are some rules and stuff.”
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“Oh? Did not know.”
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“Intruders” And a man in purple robes donning with layers upon layers of under shirts—a modern magister. “Seize them, guards!”
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Which one dares to grab hold of Olwan’s exposed shoulders but she nudge the soldier to the ground before yelling, “King Gitael, I am asking ye politely to pull your troops back from yer advance to Pen’s village. That region is a neutral zone for all of war faring Cyndoryllians to know and is uphold by yer silver and gold concordants.”
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“We know and that is all in the past.” The magister says, “but what gives them the right to hire soldiers from Aetheled! That just means they took sides already!”
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“They asked officially for help and yer kingdom” Turning to the king, “holds too much threat in escalating this civil war.”
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And the old king shakes his head, gesturing his hand to shoo.
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“Get these strangers out.” The secretariat commands, “Prison them to the dungeons!”
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Isaac slides down and nervously walks up to Olwan, “You said I will take care of this. You did not even tell me what this was all about.”
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“Ye did not ask”
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“I forgot” Isaac clears his throat, calling for all attention, "King Gitael! I am Isaac, uh…from KINGUIN, and I implore you to listen to the wise words of Olwan." His voice echoes through the throne room, momentarily silencing the guards.
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The king raises an eyebrow, intrigued by Isaac's sudden outburst. The magister, however, scoffs, "A Hemrean siding with a barbarian? Preposterous!"
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Isaac ignores the magister and continues, "Your Majesty, the path you tread leads only to further bloodshed and suffering. Pen's village is a neutral zone, a sanctuary for those who wish to escape the horrors of war. By advancing your troops, you not only violate the silver and gold concordants but also risk escalating this civil war to unprecedented levels."
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The man next to him—a military elder leaning forwards, his eyes narrowing, "And what would you have us do, Isaac? Stand idly by while Aetheled's soldiers gather their forces and muster through the borders?"
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Olwan interjects, "They are there to protect the innocents, not to wage war against yer kingdom. If ye truly seek peace, then withdraw yer troops and come to the negotiating table."
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The magister sneers, "Negotiating with barbarians? Have you lost your mind, woman?"
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Isaac steps forward, his voice firm, "It is not a matter of losing one's mind, but rather finding the courage to seek a peaceful resolution. War is not the answer, and it never will be."
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The king remains silent, pondering the words of the two strangers. The tension in the room is palpable, with the guards ready to strike at a moment's notice.
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Finally, the king speaks, his voice weary, "You speak of peace, yet you barge into my throne room uninvited. You speak of courage, yet you hide behind the words of a barbarian. Tell me, Isaac, why should I listen to you?"
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Isaac takes a deep breath, "Because, Your Majesty, I have seen the devastation that war brings. I have witnessed the tears of mothers who have lost their sons, the anguish of children who have been orphaned. I have seen the fields of battle, littered with the bodies of the fallen. Is this the legacy you wish to leave behind?"
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The king's eyes widen, a flicker of emotion passing across his face. The magister, sensing the king's hesitation, interjects, "Your Majesty, do not be swayed by the words of a stranger. We must protect our kingdom, no matter the cost."
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Olwan shakes her head, "The cost is too high. How many more lives must be lost before ye realize that there is another way?"
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The king rises from his throne, his voice booming, "Enough! I have heard enough from both of you. Guards, escort these two out of my sight. I will not have my authority questioned in my own court."
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As the guards surround Isaac and Olwan, the king adds, "But know this, Isaac. Your words have not fallen on deaf ears. I will consider what you have said, but I make no promises. Now, leave before I change my mind."
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With that, Isaac and Olwan are led out of the throne room, the giant owl waiting patiently for their return. As they mount the owl, Isaac turns to Olwan, "Did I do alright?"
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Olwan shrugs, "I do not know. But we will have to stay around for a while and observe.”
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They fly, soaring above before Isaac sees something glinting. His curious eyes lead his gaze to a street with a golden carriage, and two giant black manes. On its driver seat is a solder bearing the three headed Princesses emblem. “Wait, land, over there” He asks Olwan which the lady does so while keeping on the look out.
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The giant owl touch down at a street ahead of the golden carriage and Isaac slides down, rushing his steps for where the golden carriage will turn.
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“Isaac!” Olwan calls for him back but the boy sprints
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Before stopping in front of the hinds—the familiar snotty breaths above his head, “Merry, Bell!” He greets and hug both creatures. The horses rub their heads back at the boy, confusing the driver.
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“What is the commotion?” Hearing a familiar old man’s voice, and from the carriage windows, peeking his head out, and eyes wide at seeing the boy. “Isaac…”
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“Lord Magister! Great to see you again!”
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And Olwan watches, hearing the title ‘Lord Magister’ irks the veins around her eyes to flicker pale green. “Lord Magister” She mutters while sensing some figures running away—“siblings… So, he is the one? Who hurt ye all?”
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