Ultimate Assassin Saga: Woodlands

His father had died when he was just fifteen, killed in battle. His father had been the first King to step foot on this planet and he'd been the one who'd chosen the Whispering Jungle as their home. Also, he was the one who brought the Mages together and created the Mirror dimension so they could be hidden from the ravages of the world. With the death of his father, he'd been the one that had been crowned as the new King of the Star Elves and that had been more than five thousand years ago now.

The Star Elf was starting to feel old these days though. He'd ruled his people with a gentle fist for five thousand years and he had little to worry about in the way of strife. The Star Elves had already developed politically and socially to create the near perfect laws that would keep everyone protected under the law while not giving anyone preferential treatment.

The Elf King pushed back his chair and he got to his feet. He walked out from behind his desk and he walked across the room to the window. He stopped in front of the window and he stared out at the village beyond. He could see people moving to and fro, doing their jobs for the day, but there was no worry among any of the Elves. It was as if they lived their long lived lives in blissful unawareness, and in many ways, they did. That was how he'd wanted it and he was glad that his people were safe, but he wished that they were more cautious too.

He didn't suppose he could have it both ways though.

Taro could remember a time when he and his people had been closer, oftentimes spending most of the day with one another doing their individual jobs. It was days like these that he missed those days and wished he could get them back. He knew those days would never come back though, and to be honest, he knew that he wouldn't go back even if he could. This was the day that he lived in and it was time that he got use to it.

It was hard for the Star Elf to admit, but he had a problem with adapting to change. This was the first significant change in over five thousand years and he found himself growing uneasy over it. Having Acheron in the village wasn't the change that was bothering him, but actually having the end of the Undead in their sights if Acheron's assumptions were correct. He welcomed the end of the Undead as a threat to the Star Elf village, but at the same time, he didn't know what they would do without them.

Would they no longer have a purpose? Without someone to fight, why would they need to hone their skills in battle? Would their technology stagnate and their society turn in on itself? Or would they survive without a problem? These were things that an Elf that had lived for five thousand years asked himself and these were the thoughts that kept that same Elf up all night.

Sighing, the Elf King turned away from the window and he turned, walking towards his desk. Stopping behind his desk, he reached down and grabbed the parchment with the letter written on it, rolling it up. Then, he grabbed a red ribbon and slid it around the paper scroll. He dropped the paper message on top of the other twelve scrolls of paper that was for the thirteen Lords of the Warrior Clan and he sighed. He knew that he had to send these out soon and bring the assembly together as a meeting.

Taro sighed and he placed his hand on the back of his chair, turning it. He sat down in the chair and turned it so that it was facing his desk. He sighed and he crossed his legs, his ankle sliding over his knee casually. He slid his index finger horizontally under his bottom lip and his silver eyes narrowed as he stared at the pile of messages that was for the Warrior Clan Lords.

Closing his eyes, the Star Elf sent out a mental message to one of his messengers, and when he received an affirmative from one of the messengers, he opened his eyes. He waited patiently, running the length of his finger across his lips as he waited. A few minutes later, the door to his office opened and one of the messengers stepped into his office, looking confident in himself.

The messenger was a tall and lanky man with short silver hair. His eyes were dark and they scanned the room, searching for threats automatically, though he knew that there was nothing there. He wore a long sleeve white tunic, tight grey pants, black leather boots, and a black leather belt with a dagger sheathed at his right hip.

The messengers were all so simple looking. They had to be so an enemy wouldn't be able to tell what they looked like and target them. That was how it had been for thousands of years, even when they'd been on their former planet. Now that they lived in this mirror dimension without really having any intelligent enemies though, he knew that they could deck themselves out in gold and silver without having to worry about being targeted. However, it was tradition and he was set on tradition.

"You sent for me, my King?" the messenger asked in a softened expression and stopped in front of the desk. He gave a little incline of his head that was suppose to pass for a bow and he stared without expression in his eyes at the King, waiting for him to speak. He was a blank slate who would take any orders that his King gave him and relay them to the proper recipients of the orders.

The Elf King sat forward in his chair and stared at the other man. He placed one hand on the wooden desk and his other hand on his knee. He had to be careful how he worded this, though he knew that he could simply hand the man the messages and have them relayed to the Warrior Lords. However, he tended to be more succint with his people and tried to form a bond with them as they were doing their services so they enjoyed their jobs while they were doing them so as not to create disgruntled, angry servants.

"Yes I did." Taro replied, his voice soft and kind. Picking up a satchel bag, he packed the twelve letters into the satchel bag and he closed the flap. Then, he looked at the messenger and he smiled. "I want you to take these letters to the Warrior Lords. One letter for every one of them."

The messenger frowned, his brow furrowing up and his lips pinching in confusion. He was sure that the messenger didn't understand what it was that he could possibly want with the thirteen Warrior Lords. He never called them all together for no reason. In fact, the last time the thirteen Warrior Lords had been brought together had been when the Star Elves were leaving their old planet for this new one.

However, this wasn't the messenger's business. He would know soon enough after all and there was no reason for him to discuss business with the man. He wouldn't ask the Elf King any questions anyway so he wouldn't have to discuss anything anyway. The messenger knew his place and he knew it well.

The messenger nodded his head and stepped closer to the desk of his King. The older Star Elf grabbed the satchel bag and he pushed to his feet. He held the satchel bag out to the messenger and waited for him to take it from him. When he did, the older Star Elf nodded his head and he allowed his hand to fall back down by his side before he retook his seat, staring up at the messenger.

The messenger placed the strap of the satchel over his head and it draped across one shoulder. The actual bag that held all thirteen messages settled quite snugly against his hip. When he looked up into the messenger's face, he saw the pride that glowed there and he nearly smiled. He was glad to give people work, but he was taking far too much pride in this. Then again, he was but a lowly messenger and for him to be delievering a message to each one of the thirteen Warrior Lords would mean a lot to a man like him.

Then, the messenger bowed his head low to Taro and he turned sharply on his heel, leaving the room. When the door closed behind him, Taro smiled softly and he sat back in his chair. He uncrossed his legs and allowed himself to slump into his chair. There were some days that he hated being King, though they were far outweighed by those days that he loved it. He was old and getting older every day. He knew that he would have to pick a successor soon or his people would be squabbling over who was the next in line to be the King of the Star Elves. He had to choose before he died and he had a feeling that he was going to die soon.

He could worry about that later however. For now though, the only thing the Elf King had to worry about was making it to the meeting with the thirteen Warrior Lords and relaying the request that he wanted to. He didn't know how they would take it, but if he knew the Warrior Lords like he thought he did, they would jump on the chance. After all, they were all tired of the Undead plaguing them and they would love to dispell the mirror dimension so they could live on the Mortal Plane as normal people. That couldn't be done until the Undead were wiped out though.

Taro closed his eyes to fight back his headache and he found himself hoping that it faded soon enough. This would be no way to greet the Warrior Lords with a pounding head and a weak body. He had to get stronger and he had to hold up his image as the unshakable warrior King that they knew.

Otherwise, they might just stop following him and Taro was doing all he could to keep them together right now.

XXXXXXXXXX

Acre washed his hands in the washing basin of his home, and while he did so, he hummed a little tune. He didn't know where the tune had come from or if he'd made it up himself, but it was a pleasant one that he liked very much. He often hummed little tunes when he was doing his housework and today was no different. He liked to keep a clean house so when he came home from battle he didn't have to do much but cook his food, eat, clean his dishes, and then lay down to sleep.

The Star Elf knew that some of his companions weren't quite as cleanly as he was, but he was strict in his regiment. He insisted that every single one of his soldiers be clean each day that they showed up for duty and their clothing straight. What they might lack in personal looks, they would make up for with their military precision and the sharp cut of their clothing.

That was what he strove for and he aimed to get it every time.

So far, the Warrior Lord hadn't been disappointed. Ever since he'd been in charge of the First Wave - a paltry two hundred years compared to some of the other Warrior Lords - they'd been bathed and dressed well for each day of duty. They were the elite among the elite and he rarely had to chastise them. When he did, they often corrected themselves quickly enough and never made that mistake again.

Sighing, Acre pulled his hands from the washing basin and picked up a rag from the counter top. Wiping his hands clean, he stared out the window above the washing basin and he stared at the dark trees of the Whispering Jungle beyond. It was hard to believe that he'd lived his entire life here when he had some sort of bloodline memories of the old world, but he was well aware that he'd never been on the Elves' home world.

In fact, the only person alive today who had been on the old home world was the King himself. King Taro rarely spoke of the old world, preferring that his people think of this planet as their world, and for the most part, they did. However, the younger generation often wondered about the old world and it was the fault of the older generation for that. After all, it was the older generation who told the newer one the stories of the home world and what had happened to it, why they'd come to this world.

As he stared out of the window at the village beyond, the Warrior Lord retold the stories that he'd been told and he smiled to himself. Such fanciful stories, but most of them did ring true, even to his own skeptical mind. He wasn't one who believed things easily, but if he felt that they were true, then he would defend his beliefs to the end.

The home world had been a beautiful land of forests, plains, and other greenery. The Elves had been the only species that lived upon the planet, carving out their niche on the world. Sure, there were clan battles here and there, but few ever died as a result of those battles. Things were largely peaceful on the home world because they were one people and had one common interest in their mind. The betterment of the Elven people.

It was through their search to better their own people that the Elves had developed their technology. Weapons to defend themselves from other people's of other planets and to make sure that they were all safe. Also, the conveniences such as electricity, indoor plumbing, and medicine. However, it was astrology that was the most respected of all of the advances in their technology. Astrologers were the highest paid and the most respected on the old world.

Then one day, it was because of one of these astrologers that they discovered their planets doom. The astrologer saw through his higher powered telescope that there was a meteor heading right for their planet. They were no stranger to meteor strikes, but unlike the thousands of miniscule meteors that hit their world every day, this one was different. It was far larger and far denser than any other meteor than they'd ever seen. It was given a truly ominous classification that was strangely ironic considering.

It was called planet killer.

It was estimated that the meteor would strike in the middle of their population, and not only that, that it would send enough ash high into the air that it would block their sun for more than a year. With that done, it would prevent plants from growing, and without plants, they wouldn't survive. However, that wasn't the only thing. With the striking of this meteor, it would send the plates beneath their world crazy and earthquakes would occur all over the world, even in places where there had never been an earthquake before. Also, it would activate volcanoes that had long lay dormant and the world would be in danger once again.

The astrologer had taken his findings to the Emperor of the Elven people at the time and had reported to the man directly. The Emperor's advisers, many arrogant pompous old fools who were far too interested in their own wealth than the annihilation of their way of life, laughed it off, calling him a lunatic for such dire predictions. The Emperor however had listened and he'd taken the astrologer's words for what they were.

The Emperor's advisers had tried to talk thim down, calling the astrologer all sorts of names and accusing him of sensationalizing it. However, the Emperor himself had been an astrologer before he'd been the ruler of the world and he knew that astrologers sensationalized. They told the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth. It was their credo, their way of life.

The Emperor had ignored the advice of his advisers, and when they grew too annoying for him to ignore any longer, he disbanded them, stripping them of their positions. Then, he'd called on the scientists of the world and he'd asked them to come up with a solution. The scientists had been frightened of what was to come, but they did their Emperor's bidding, trying to come up with a way to stop the meteor from destroying their world.

Then, one scientist made a suggestion that none of the others had even considered before. Instead of trying to save the planet, why not find a way to get off of the planet? The scientists had thought it impossible, but they'd gone along with their colleague, attempting to find a way off of the planet. Then, the plans for an arc had been drawn up and they'd gone to work on building it. None of them had been sure that it would work, but by combining science and magic, they'd managed to get the arc to work.

The Elves had loaded onto the arc and they'd taken to the stars, thus earning them the name of Star Elves.

The voyage hadn't been perfect of course. People died of sickness or stepping out too far and falling over the side. There were others who went mad in the eternal blackness, never thinking to see the light again and they killed themselves. For those who did survive however, they would see a new world and a new start.

Acre smiled slightly as he thought of his people's past, and if he tried hard, he could imagine being on that ship himself. He imagined that he would've been horribly frightened, but refusing to show it to the others, wanting to remain strong for the people. However, he had no doubt that his mind would be whirling with doubts and recriminations, labeling himself a fool for coming on the voyage. Those were just fanciful thoughts though and fanciful thoughts belonged in his dreams so he banished them quickly enough.

The Star Elf turned away from the window and he intended to walk across the room so he could head to his room. Before he made it out of the kitchen though, he heard a knock at his front door and he frowned. Who would be visiting him at this time? He thought of the Demon Acheron, but he banished that thought. No, there was no way the Demon would visit him.

Slightly annoyed but now showing it on his face, the Warrior Lord walked through his living room and towards the front door. Stopping in front of the door, he reached out and grabbed the knob, pulling open the front door. He blinked a couple of times to make sure that he was seeing right, but frowned when the messenger at his front door didn't disappear with the blinks. There was a messenger at his door for some reason, but he had no idea why.

He didn't recognize the messenger either, but that didn't really mean anything. There were so many messengers in the village that one could never see them all and know their names. The name of a messenger didn't really matter though, but their messages did. So, what did this messenger have for him that could be so important?

The Star Elf noticed that the messenger had a satchel bag slung over his shoulder and he was holding to it tightly. It was obvious that he had more than one message to deliver today, but he didn't know why he would be one of those people. He hadn't done anything significant of late so there was no reason for him to be honored or asked to do anything.

"I have a message from the King, my Lord." the messenger told him in a professional tone, surprising him. He blinked a couple of times, not sure that he'd heard the man right, but the man was no longer looking at him. Instead, he was opening the satchel bag he'd brought with him and he fetched out a letter from within. Letter in hand, he held it out to him and waited for him to take it.

Frowning, Acre reached out and took the message from the messenger. The man nodded and turned sharply on his heel, disappearing across the village before he could even open the message. With the messenger gone, there was no reason for him to continue standing here and wondering what was in the message. He could actually read it now.

Shaking his head, the Warrior Lord shut the door and he turned around, walking to the couch in the middle of the living room. He sat down on the couch, and after getting comfortable, he slipped the ribbon off of the message. Then, he unfurled the letter and his eyes scanned the letters, taking in the words on the page. When he was done reading, he frowned even heavier now, more confused than ever.

Just what the hell did the King want with him at this time of day? He couldn't think of a single time in the past when the King had called him into his office, much less to share an audience with him. And just who was that audience going to be he wondered.

Knowing that he wasn't going to get any answers answered sitting at home, the Star Elf sat the message down on the table in front of the couch and he pushed to his feet. It was time that he got to the castle and see what the King wanted. It could be very important or it could be nothing. However, he had a feeling that it was something that was very important and something that he wasn't going to want to miss.