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| Author | The Imperial Chronicler |
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The Empress’s gaze followed the Warlord Councilors as they left the Central Square. Only minutes before She had sent them off to gather the army’s of the Empire to deal with the present danger at the nation’s borders. But now another thought crossed her mind.
“Page!” She summoned one of the court officials who came stumbling before Her, his silken robes making a swishing noise as he bowed low. “I have a task for you, and you must go at once.” The court official stood open eyed listening to the task given to him by Her Majesty. When She finished he left in haste, stimulated by the furious sound of his swishing robes.
By the time he returned, the sun had receded and far off the campfire lights of seven distinct camps dotted the horizon. He moved into the Central Square now with urgent poise, a figure strolling in nostalgically behind him. The form was Elven, lean and wiry. He was clad in deep greens and browns of the forest, and around him he wore what looked like a cape made of leaves and moss. As he entered he looked from side to side, taking in the beautiful workmanship of the Central Square until at last he stood before the Empress. His attention turned at once and he bowed low to the Sovereign of the Empire.
“Greetings Master Scribe,” the Empress smiled down to the Elf before her. He reciprocated with another bow from the waist. “It has been some time since you walked the halls of the Central Square, is it not?”
“Indeed. Many long seasons have passed since I last stood here.” The Elf’s gaze again wandered throughout the large open chamber. “I wonder why it is that Your Majesty has found reason to bring me here once again?”
She proceeded, “I have called you here for a great purpose. We are at war. The armies of the Empire are being attacked and we go to challenge them.”
The figure straightened up, then announced. “My Queen, I am always ready to go to war for you or the Empire which I serve. I will gather the troops under my command at once.”
She smiled again, shaking her head as she did so. “No, Master Elf. It is for another reason that I have called you.” The Elf raised his brow in mild confusion. “You once served my father while he reigned as Emperor, is this true?” | He began to understand where this was heading. “I did, Your Majesty. I was an ambassador to the Elven people, as well as a historian. My role was to facilitate the merging of the Elven people and your own so that…”
She interrupted him, softly clearing her throat. “I know well of your abilities Master Elf. It is for them that I have summoned you. While others in the realm take up sword and shield, I ask you to take up your pen and the title you once held under my father. I need someone loyal to the crown, yet impartial just the same, to record the great deeds of this nation and its people - especially in these troubling times.”
For the first time in his long life the Elf found that words were not easy to speak. At last he summoned up the courage, feeling the need to say something, anything, knowing his Empress looked on expectantly. “Of course, Your Majesty. It will be my greatest honor to serve the Empire once again.”
Standing now, the Empress pointed down to the figure before her, “Then Master Elf, those present here must acknowledge this. That on this day I declare you the Empire’s highest honor of scribes, and the newest member of the Imperial Court. You shall henceforth be known as Skunder, the Chronicler.” | | closed by Arctic (2009-02-08 02:42:31) |
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