Metagore, The Battle For

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Status: Finished  |  Genre: Fantasy  |  House: House of Ghosts

Lord Brighton returns home and starts a new life with his beloved Topaz.

Prolog (v.2) - A New Life

Submitted: April 18, 2016

Reads: 13053

Comments: 20

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Submitted: April 18, 2016

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The bright moonlight lit up the sky over the flosh swamplands, as a young elf, Brighton, soared upon the back of his griffin. His long, blond hair flapped behind him from the warm summer air, as it brushed against his pale cheeks. Swiftly, he glanced over his shoulder; his body filled with warmth as a smile grew upon his face. His liquid blue eyes laid rest upon a young fairhead, who had fallen asleep on their long ride home, hugged up against his toned body.

Brighton barely knew this goddess, but he knew there was something special about Topaz. Rather it be just a feeling that he had gotten after having to be her protector, or the fact that he could sense that she was longing for someone to confide in. Either way, Brighton knew that he wanted to spend the rest of his life with this amazing lady---who hated to be given the title of Lady, but he still gave it to her nonetheless.

Brighton continued to smile, as Topaz's long, tightly curled, red hair swirled in the wind. Her bronze skin sparkled as it was illuminated by the moon's yellow glow.

After the long day that they had, Brighton, too, grew tired and fell asleep upon his griffin's back, assured that his mount knew where to take them.

***

The morning sun awoke Brighton, as it peeked over the horizon. It's orange sphere cresting over a snow-capped mountain peak. He turned his sights to the sleeping beauteous body, being shown justice by the lit sky. Her golden gown draped off of her shoulders and blanketed the side of the griffin.

Passing under them quickly was a beautiful, lavender mountain range, and the kingdom of Rigdale. Off in the distance, Brighton could see a large, stone castle resting in a valley between two mountains---Mount Harod and Mount Celeren.

Growing up, Brighton had always wanted to become lord and live in the castle. His parents taught him the ways of the land and of the hierarchy order. Both of his parents sat on the lord's council as viscounts, which he too was honored to obtain the title of once he had reached his hundredth year of life. He served his lord with nobility and respect, and carried out his laws justly.

Unfortunately, the time had came and his lord had passed, and the kingdom was left in shambles. The councilmen all gathered and elected a new lord---Brighton. Brighton was honored to carry on the title of lord, and began to travel his kingdom to put order back into affect. Even now, he worked to bring peace between his kingdom and all of the other kingdoms that rested on Metagore.

Brighton, excited to see the castle, grabbed a patch of feathers on the neck of his griffin, and shook them slightly, almost in a petting manner. "We've made it home, buddy," he said cheerfully, yet in a tired voice.

The large griffin dove down under the clouds, heading straight for the castle, slicing through the air in its rush to reach home. As it quickly approached the courtyards around the castle, the griffin raised its wings higher, causing it to slow its forward drag and helping it decrease its elevation. The ground grew closer and closer as they approached. The majestic creature stretched out its four legs, and started to flap its wings forward; bringing itself to a safe landing within the castle walls.

The young, muscularly toned elf climbed down from his griffin, placed his hand upon the center of Topaz's back, and softly shook her awake. Her solid, ruby red eyes peered open. Upon seeing the young elven man, a smile grew upon her face; her fangs slightly protruding from under her lips. Slowly she turned her head, gazing upon the castle and soaking in her new home.

It wasn't like the volcanic temple where she was raised. Were the imps had protected her and bathed her in lava. No, this place was different. For the first time in her life she knew what true coldness felt like---and she despised it. Most people would probably wonder why she chose to give up her old life where she was treated like a goddess, and go stay in these mountains.

She turned her gleaming eyes back to Brighton---he made it all worth it. The young elf that she had only dreamed about meeting. The passion and love he had for her was like nothing that she had ever known before. The way that he held her protectively in his arms and caressed her skin, sent tingles down her spine. This man---Brighton---was her's to love for the rest of their lives.

Approaching them was an elderly, chitty-faced, elven lady. Her long, gray hair trailed behind her as she ran up to Brighton. Having missed seeing her lord, she paid no attention to his company as she wrapped her scrawny arms around his rock-hard body. Pressing her face against his chest, she whimpered softly, "My Lord, you've returned from your travels." After a moment of embracing his presence, she released her grip, and scanned her vivid green eyes over his body and partially shredded, blood stained clothing. "Are you alright, my Lord?"

"Yes, Ellia, I am fine," Brighton smiled, turning his head towards Topaz and his griffin for a brief moment then back to his duchess.

Duchess Ellia had taken Brighton under her wings when he took upon the crown as his own. To her, Brighton was family---a grandchild that she never was granted. She had made a point to watch over him, and keep him safe from the corruptness of the world. She knew her lord had an compassion towards strangers---maybe a little too much---but nonetheless, he stood for what he believed to be right and just.

Ellia finally noticed the feminine body, which stood behind her lord, and grew confused as she analyzed Topaz's figure. Her clothing was like nothing she had seen before. Most of what she was use to wear thick dresses and fur coats; but this lady that her lord had brought back was dressed in a thin golden gown, with splits going up the sides, exposing her perfectly toned legs. Her feet were bare besides the little fabric that lined the bottom of them, with a thin strap over the top, holding it to her feet.

Ellia slowly leaned in close towards Brighton, and under her breath she spoke, "You brought back a friend?"

Brighton stretched out a hand towards Topaz, and grasped her gold-chained glove. Presenting her forward, Brighton introduced the two of them. "This is my beloved Topaz...Topaz, this is my duchess, Ellia."

"Your beloved, my Lord?" Ellia questioned, knowing that he had never mentioned a lover before he had left on his travels to Medsa'lear, nor she ever seen Topaz around the castle.

"Yes," Brighton smiled. "I will explain everything to you anon, 'tis a long story."

Topaz stood there, a feat of hair dangling in front of her eyes, uncertain of what the duchess thought about her. Her red curls started to become inflamed as she grew uneasy and nervous.

Startled by the fire, Ellia jumped back---never before had she seen someone's hair catch fire.

Brighton quickly pulled Topaz aside. He ran his hand gently across her red cheeks. "'Tis ok," he told her comfortingly. "Nobody will harm you here. You have my word."

Looking into his blue eyes, Topaz calmed herself, causing the emission of flames on her long curls to slowly fade away.

Dismissing the situation, Brighton turned his attention back to his duchess. "She will be staying with us from henceforth. She has also requested for her imps to stay in the castle with us."

Cautious from the recent burst of flames from Topaz's hair, Ellia gleed at this new being as she responded, "Yes, of course, my Lord." Turning her eyes back to Brighton, she quickly remembered the tattered clothing he was wearing. Grabbing ahold of his shirt, she continued, "What happened to you, my Lord? You were gone much later than we had expected. And your clothes; what happened out there?"

"I am aware of my long absence," he responded as he gently pulled his shirt from her grasp. "I had an unexpected encounter whilst I was away."

Ellia's brow pursed up. "Lady Topaz, my Lord?"

"No." Brighton turned and started to unhook the saddlebags from his griffin, then continued, "The encounter led me to my beloved Topaz, but she was not the encounter."

Ellia's green eyes widened. "Then what was this encounter, my Lord?"

One of the bags slipped out of Brighton's hand as it fell to the hard ground. The strap on the tan, leather bag popped off, and a leather-bound journal fell out.

Brighton bent down and retrieved the book. He stayed crouched, reflecting back upon the hostile people in the strange place that he had previously escaped from. The horrors and torture that he had seen could never be forgotten from his memory.

He stood back up and placed the book back into the bag. In a dark tone, and a stern look upon his face, he turned back to Ellia. "I will explain everything anon; but now, if you please, take Topaz up to my chamber and get her a change of clothes."

Still worried about her lord's travels, Ellia agreed---knowing that when her lord's mind was set on something, there would be no changing it. "As you wish, my Lord." She turned to Topaz and grasped her glove, leading her into the luxurious castle, and up to her new room.

Brighton remained in the courtyard, and continued to gather bags off of his griffin. One of his guards, who had been patrolling the grounds, walked up to him and helped with the luggage. "'Tis nice to see you a safe return, m'Lord."

***

Later that evening, Topaz was stretched out across a fluffy donge in her and Brighton's chamber, embracing the feel of warmth from the thick clothing that was provided to her. She smiled and giggled while rolling around on the bed; excited to spend the rest of her life with the man of her dreams.

Down the hall in his cabinet, Lord Brighton sat behind his desk, savoring every flavor and spice of warm food that was placed before him. Beside the plate of food was his journal, and gripped in one hand, a feathered quill. He ate and recollected his memories of his travels, the good and the terrifying---unfortunately, it was mostly the latter---writing down every last detail that he could remember of the treacherous place.

Knock, knock.

"You may enter," Brighton stated as he sat his quill down and glanced up at the opening of the door. Topaz curiously scanned the room with her red eyes. "You don't have to knock, my Lady," he chuckled. "This is your home now. You may cometh and go as you so wish."

As she approached him, Topaz strolled her red-tipped fingernails across his desk. She walked around the desk and wrapped her arms around his torso, softly caressing his chest with her fingertips. "I was not sure which rooms were off-limits."

Brighton smiled and leaned his head back, resting it against her breast. "This castle is yours. There is no room off-limits to you, my Lady."

"Well, I was not sure."

Brighton turned and gave her a small kiss on the lips. "I don't know if Ellia informed you of this, but the kitchen and buttery are open day-round. Feel free to go visit them whenever you wish."

She smiled and squeezed Brighton slightly. "I was just thinking about grabbing myself a meal, actually."

"Help yourself, my Lady," Brighton encouraged her. "Oh, by the way, some of the house maids are going to convert my spare cabinet, off of our chamber, into a boudoir for you."

"That would be nice," she replied as she released her grip and started to walk towards the door. Approaching the exit of the room, Topaz remembered that she was unfamiliar with the castle. Starting to blush, embarrassed of having to ask such a thing, she questioned, "Where exactly is the kitchen?"

Brighton, seeing the warm glow on Topaz's rosy red cheeks, let out a slight chuckle. "I will show you."

Brighton stood from his desk and exited the room, leading Topaz by her hand. They made their way through the corridor; Brighton pointing at different paintings that hung on the walls, and telling Topaz the many stories associated with each painting. At the end of the corridor they came upon a staircase and ventured their way down them.

Traversing through the hall on the ground floor, Ellia walked up to Brighton. "My Lord, we have received letters that the other lords will be here in two days."

Brighton nodded. "Thank you, Ellia." He turned back to Topaz as his duchess left the hall. "The kitchen and buttery are both right through those doors," he said as he pointed towards the other end of the hall. "I need to go back to my cabinet and finish my work."

Topaz smiled at her love. "I understand."

"If you need anything, feel free to cometh and ask." Brighton turned away and slipped back upstairs to his cabinet, where he started working on his preparations for the other lords.

***

A few days later, Brighton and his beloved Topaz sat on the inside of a large, horseshoe shaped, stone table in the throne room---which was in a separate building away from the castle, known as the kingdom hall. Sitting upon his wooden throne---the seat padded by a red velvet cushion---Brighton sorted through a thick stack of parchment sheets that laid spread out on the table. Nervously he skimmed over the many pages, double checking each one, making sure that they were all perfectly made up for his meeting with the other lords.

Beside him, sitting in a similar chair as the lord's throne, Topaz sat quietly at the table. The seat was originally intended for the lord's duke or duchess, but since their return, Brighton had omitted that his love could sit beside him in formal matters of the royal court---wanting her to fully know and understand the role he played in the kingdom.

Topaz gazed upon her love fidgeting with the numerous stacks of parchment. She was aware of what the meeting would be about, but she didn't quite grasp the importance of it just yet. She could, however, tell that it meant a great deal to Brighton, and she supported him in the days leading up towards this event. On that day, she felt like her silence was the best approach of support that she could give, as she just sat there with a smile upon her glowing face; the slight crease in her beloved's brow warmed her young heart.

Brighton continued to straighten up the documents when Duchess Ellia opened a door which stood behind his seat at the table. Leading in six denizens from across Metagore, Ellia welcomed Brighton to their presence, as he turned around. "The lords have all arrived, my Lord."

Topaz---suddenly feeling anxious and out of place---leaned over and whispered into Brighton's elongated ears, "I am going to return myself to the castle."

Brighton turned towards her and gave her kiss. "Verily well, my love."

"Enjoy your evening," she concluded as she stood from the table and made her way home.

Brighton stood as the six in a company sat around the outside of the table.

Sitting to the far left of the table, slouched slightly in his chair, was a burly skinwalker from the kingdom of Medsa'lear, Lord Kip. He was a scraggly looking seahand---a killbuck---with long, wavy, brown hair and a medium length beard. He had one dark blue eye, while the other was dead with a wam that stretched down half of his face from a fight with some unnamed sea monster. He was dressed in a long overcoat and thick pants.

Second from the left sat another younghede lord, Lord Valek from the kingdom of Talean. Even while sitting, his green djinn body seemed to tower over most of the other lords in attendance. He wore a long sleeved, red shirt under a golden chest plate with rubies imbedded into it, and a long, red, silk skirt flowing out from under the chest plate. Jeweled earrings protruded out from under his long black hair, which traveled down past his shoulders.

Next to the large djinn stood the centaur lord, Lord Dennius of the kingdom of Ringwood. His hair was long and thin, and blended with his brown coat of fur. His predominant green eyes sat just below a crown made of leaves and twigs.

In the next seat, sat Lord Ozir---the lord over the volcanic wastelands of Sentries. His giant cyclops body leaned back in his chair as he looked around the throne room with his enormous yellow eye. His clothing, dirty and worn, clinged to his lennow body.

The last two seats on the far right were occupied by Empress Uri of the kingdom of Alberon and her duke and translator, Duke Galquis. Empress Uri was a middle-aged fawn with brown eyes and an even darker brown fur coat that was covered by a leather gown with strands of beads decorating it. Under her gown, her slender body stretched from the horns on the side of her head all the way down to her thick hooves.

Duke Galquis accompanied his empress---since she only knew their native tongue, Oacari. Galquis was an elf of average height. His skin, as well as Uri's, were dark and tanned. Around his wrists were tribal markings that most of the male warriors of Alberon obtained after their first battle. His thick torso was clothed by a fur pelt, and his strong legs were covered by a pair of leather pants.

Brighton greeted his guests with a smile, "Welcome to Rigdale, the kingdom above the clouds."

They all thanked him for his generosity of inviting them there.

Brighton straightened up the parchment sheets once more, then continued, "Thank you all for taking the time out of your busy schedules to meet with me today. As I have told each of you in our previous meetings, there has to be something done about our trade regulations, or our lack there of. Our kingdoms can't continue to thrive in turmoil with each other. Our families and lands are dying for a pointless cause." Brighton paused for a brief moment, feeling uneasy and nervous standing before the five lords.

"As I have traveled across Metagore, and sat down with each of you, I have gathered notes on what each of you had suggested and combined them all into a compressed text." He grabbed the stacks of parchment and handed them to each of the lords---Uri's being written in Oacari rather than Megorie.

"You can read over the terms on your own time, but in short, the treaty states that there will begin construction of a new city to regulate fair trade. The city will be placed around my castle, and it will be given the name 'BrightHelm'. Each kingdom will retain fifty percent of their producing market, while the other five will receive ten percent of that market." Brighton paused again, this time to allow the other lords to quickly skim over the treaty.

"Along with the creation of a new city, this treaty will conjoin our six kingdoms as one. So you will find in your reading that the treaty states that one of us will be crowned as the ruler, while the remainder of us shall be appointed as grand dukes and/or duchess."

Lord Valek, tapping his many rings on his hand against the stone table, asked with a disgusted look upon his green face, "Who shall be this new appointed lord?"

Brighton, nervous from the inevitable question, looked into Valek's white eyes and responded, "I have left that portion open for discussion. I had figured we could all think about it, and in a few weeks when we meet again to sign the contract, we can appoint someone then."

Kip spoke up in a raspy voice, "What's the wait? I say vote now, what say ye?" he asked the other lords.

Valek sat forward in his seat. "The kingdom of Talean nominates I, Lord Valek" he bluttered as he glared at the other lords.

Uri sat up straight and proper, than spoke in her native tongue, "Lie' shoul Lord Brighton eccapa klamiou timil Metagore'. Rromil uil, arya vay jaqar naoto omd kul vay jaqar aku du'uli de'arya herruzh ghelitha su'orns imul wa'naoto."

Galquis repeated her, translating it for the other lords, "I say Lord Brighton should rule over Metagore. After all, 'tis was his plan and it was he who did all of this hard work to make up the treaty."

Dennius stomped his hoof. "I second thee."

Ozir followed by raising a hand. "I agree with Empress Uri."

Growing disgruntled, Valek snarled loudly, "This treaty is not suppose to be 'All hail Lord Brighton'. It is a joint contract for all of the six kingdoms. He is no more qualified to be lord over us, than I am over him."

The fawn empress spoke up in her foreign tongue once more, "Va tinu klamiou occale' stavek vill decatur omd du'cial. Jaqar tinu celi lord minnez decatur omd eirra tinu du'qlih wyam fulken va wintos poash de'du. Lie' bellesti ele' vew Lord Brighton."

Once again, Galquis translated, "We have ruled our lands for ages and did nothing. He has been lord three years and already has done more than what we ever thought of doing. My pledge is with Lord Brighton."

The scruffy seahand raised his arm. "Aye, I agree. Brighton has my vote."

"Fine," Valek barked at the others. "Lord Brighton it is then." He turned his ribbled brow, and his livid eyes towards Brighton, then in a irate voice he spoke, "Do not mess this up, elf."

Brighton quickly turned his eyes away from Valek and towards the other lords. "Then it is settled. I will sit as the lord of Metagore."

The six of the lords continued to discuss the treaty for several more hours, working out every kink and detail. As they finished up with their meeting, Ozir offered to craft six daggers whenever he returned back to Sentries, one for each of the leaders, in honoring the treaty.

***

A few weeks after their meeting, the six rulers met once more to finalize the treaty. After all the pages were signed by everyone, they all went outside Brighton's castle, where there were three tables with an assortment of food placed upon them, and they feasted.

Every year since, Metagore has remembered the day the treaty was written up, with an annual three-day celebration in BrightHelm called "The New Life Festival", in which everyone across Metagore could attend.

 




© Copyright 2018 D. L. Stewart. All rights reserved.

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