The King turned and walked slowly but with purpose toward his throne.

  He nodded to the elf behind him, who repeated the move with the loud, chiming staff.

  By the time the King was seated, the room had become still once more.

  The King turned to his father, “Thank you for your points, Father. I have decided to hear our Elfkin.” He turned to me and said, “Gwydion Istari, Elfkin and friend of our Lodge, speak and be recognized.”

  I looked at the king and then at Yandril, who gave me a gentle, “go ahead and ask” wave of his hands and nod of his head.

  I sheathed my holy blade and commanded my mage battle staff to morph back into a ring. I slowly walked back to my original position. I stood again before him, but I did not bow.

  “My King, I ask assistance for the humans in Keelwell about to be besieged by our common enemy.”

  He nodded once. “And what assistance would you ask of us?”

  I paused to order my thoughts. A lot had just happened, and I was not some ambassador or politician. I just had to speak from my heart. I had the feeling that Bella would not be guiding me this time.

  I stood tall and took a relaxing breath. I stated, “Our Elven kingdom is under attack, with our own soldiers putting themselves in harm's way to protect the innocent. And my King, you are right, I am young and as such I do not speak with especially clever or practiced words. I do not want our Elven people put at risk, and I want to help my human people as well. I ask your help according to your terms in the following four areas: prayers for our innocents, food to help last a siege, magical restoration and enchantments for magical defense of the city that Twilight has made so difficult, and military counsel and assistance in whatever forms you deem appropriate.”

  The King looked at his father. “You prepared him well.”

  The king returned the smile. “He did not know who I was until he saw me sitting here tonight, and we only spoke of the beauty of nature and his life. What you see in him is what he is. Very little guile exists in him. Even the trees showed him their bread on his first entrance.”

  A number of elves around me murmured about that last sentence of Yandril’s.

  “He is truly only and all that he appears.” The King asked his father.

  “He is.” Was his reply.

  The King sat back in his chair and absently picked up some grapes and ate them slowly as he thought through my request.

  I stood still, and the entire hall remained silent, awaiting the king’s verdict.

  After some time, he stood up and retrieved a glass from the table before him. He commanded, “Fill all glasses for a toast and bring one to our elfkin Patron.”

  I was surprised to find that Keenor was the one who brought me a glass with red wine in it. She handed it to me and said, “Thank you for my life, Patron.” She turned and walked back hurriedly to her seat.

  The King noted her and nodded to Rothilion respectfully, who stood beside my empty chair. I still stood in the middle of the chamber. And as odd as it sounded, I was more nervous now than I had been during all the arguing and wordplay between the kings.

  All were standing in the room and holding out their glasses in a toast. The King said, “I toast to a renewed friendship with our once allies, the humans of Keelwell. May we face our common foes, share our common woes, and comfort one another in these passing days of strife.”

  You could be reading stolen content. Head to Royal Road for the genuine story.

  “Toast!” The assembled elves all cheered and drank.

  The King and others sat down, and I still stood before them all. A servant removed the wine glass so I would not have to stand there holding it awkwardly.

  “And here is my decision regarding aid and support.” The King stated, looking at Yandril. “We honor the wisdom of the King Father. Even a reluctant son must yield to such wisdom.”

  He turned to Guildmaster Plojbil Ernengtion. “We honor the wisdom of our notable Enchanter and his esteemed colleagues and thank them for their counsel both before and during the meal.”

  He looked at Rothilion, “We honor the wisdom of our nephew and would take back harsh words spoken in haste and in ignorance of the facts.”

  And he looked at me. Things were flowing in fours, it appeared. Normally, it was three’s that elves liked to use as a part of their symmetry. I was certain there was a deeper reason beyond mere coincidence that such things were occurring, but whatever it was escaped me.

  “And we honor the courage and integrity of our Elfkin who has wisdom, knowledge, power, and allies beyond his years. Hear now my decision.

  “We will dispatch 400 Elven archers between the ages of 80 and 120 years old with four captains to lead them. Each is to carry a family Lodge summoning leaf that they may use at their sole discretion without dishonor to return home should events turn dire. Each is to carry Elven gear equipped for war in our old traditions. In addition, each will bear a magical tent filled with as much food and supplies as their families and local resources can provide to be shared with their human hosts upon reaching Keelwell.

  “Furthermore, we task our father, the tree whisperer, to choose 100 elven apprentices to carefully retrieve four arbor panem from 400 mystical trees and store them for transportation to Keelwell under the ownership of our Elfkin.

  “In addition, we task our guild of Elven Singers to choose 100 Elven singers to create four living wands each to be enchanted as follows: one hundred with 21 castings of Lesser Bark Skin Armor, one hundred with 21 castings of Nature’s Fresh water, one hundred with 21 castings of Nature’s Fresh Fruits and Vegetables, and one hundred with 21 castings of Animal Guardian III. That should create a stir among the goblins.”

  There was relieved laughter around the hall.

  The King continued. “In keeping with the aid provided by the dwarves, we task the Elven Silver Masters to create 40 Elven Silver circlets, 40 Elven Silver pairs of bracers, 40 Elven Silver torques, and 40 Elven Silver shields prepared for transportation to Keelwell under the ownership of our Elfkin.

  “We task our jewelers guild to prepare 1600 pure silver rings of quality useful for enchantments and prepare them for transportation to Keelwell under the ownership of our Elfkin.”

  He had been looking all around the hall as he pronounced these generous gifts. But he now turned back to me. “And not to be outdone in generosity by our royal peer in the Copper Mountains, we gift to our Elfkin a 49pt ruby filled with casting points, to remind him of the abundant life and home here in our Elven Kingdom. We also gift a true copy of a textbook by Archmaster Shuliath Arbestrom, an appropriate choice to be determined by the Elven Mage’s Council that parallels the Dwarven gift and the skills and knowledge of our Elfkin.”

  He looked about the room. “Move around and be merry. Masters, please confer and inform me what text we are to gift a true copy to our elfkin in one hour’s time.”

  The AL whispered into my ear. Enchanter Gwydion earns an ability point and a spell or skill point for advancing the Keelwell Needs Help! quest. Attribute points may be assigned immediately. Spell and skill points must be reclaimed at a guild hall or sanctuary. Elven Prestige changes from level negative five, Awful, to level four Notable. Additions and notes have been added to your Book of Quests that remain unread.

  I thought my answer to the AL. Please place the ability point into Magic.

  I was escorted back to my seat by the same server who had taken my wine glass, and a fresh feast began to be brought out to us with even more exotic fruits, vegetables, cheeses, and breads. A long array of soup options was also available. I finally had to raise my hands and declare, “I am beaten! I cannot sample a bite of every flavor in one night. I would need 40 nights to do so!”

  For the next hour, we had wonderful conversations, much of which centered on the war and what could be done to stop the goblins.

  At the end of the hour, I was permitted to remain at my seat, but the King called out for the Speaker of Mages to announce their decision.

  Master Plojbil Ernengtion, the guildmaster of enchanters, walked to the center of the room bearing a large but newly bound cloth book. The elves were vegetarians and would no more eat the flesh of an animal than they would use its hide to make leather for a book cover.

  I had thought he had left the table because he did not want to sit with me, but instead, he was chosen as Speaker of Mages for this task of the King’s.

  “My King, the masters were nearly unanimous in our choice of text for the young patron.”

  “Indeed! Then this is a special day. The masters rarely agree on anything nearly unanimously.”

  There was more laughter around the hall.

  I guessed mages here were much like at home. I joined them in the laughter since it was not meant to be unkind.

  “Yes, my King.” The guildmaster said with a feigned smile.

  “And so, what choice was made?” The king asked again.

  The mage caught the King’s look of impatience and hurried his explanation. “Given both the patron’s jewelry and Dwarven mastery, and something I learned in speaking with him about a special skill in silver as well as his Dwarven Copper, we chose the text for you to gift to be Archmaster Shuliath Arbestrom’s Elven Lore and Silver Forging.

  Many heads nodded around the hall. Rothilion leaned over to me, “You are being honored and trusted with the ability to make Elven Silver just as the Dwarves honored and trusted you to make Dwarven Copper. It is unheard of, and the symmetry is beautiful.

  The King saw that Rothlion was explaining what this meant, and so he waited a moment longer until I looked up to him. “Is this satisfactory, master patron?” He called over to me, using my enchanter and forging ranks.

  I stood. “My king, I am deeply honored and pledge the same vow of honor and secrecy to our Elven Silver as was made for Dwarven Copper.”

  “As it should be.” He declared.