[Miscellaneous]

Everyone's ℓσσkıɳɢ at me
I'm running around in ͼıɾͼℓεs, baby
A quiet desperation's building ħıɢħɛɾ
I've got to remember this is just a ɢɑɱɛ
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Alcandor sighed heavily into his hands, dread as heavy as a mountain of stone on his stomach and chest. All around him were the generals of the small armies Salonia commanded, pacing, their drawn, hardened faces tired. War was something these men were not used to - Salonia was used to peace and unity with the other kingdoms. This blood and violence was new and taking a toll on the men, Alcandor knew. They had lost friends, family, brother and sisters in the fights that had taken place over the years, and he shared only some of the guilt and sorrow they felt. How could he know what these men felt? They saw the slaughter, the blood, and heard the screams from the people dying. While he, the prince who sent them to the death, stayed safe and sound in the castle sitting atop of a mountain, before a forest that nearly everyone in the world was fearful of.

Alcandor sighed again.

"We're losing more troops," a man said suddenly, causing the Prince to look up. The mans eyes were bloodshot, his skin pale, and his hair a dark gray color. There were deep laugh lines around his mouth, but the dark circles under his eyes told another story about him. "Every day there are more from Trylic, soldiers wearing better armor with better weapons. We've lasted this long, but we can't go on much longer. Not like this." The other men stopped their pacing and stared at him. Alcandor remained quiet.

"The men and women are getting tired and their moral is low. We cannot win, Prince. We will lose, and Salonia will fall to Trylic." Alcandor looked away from the man, his chest constricting as he fought back the tears and the burning in his throat. He clasped his hands together and laid them on the table, eyes locked on the window. "He will burn the forest, and kill the beasts inside of it. They won't stand a chance against his machines. Not the elves, demons - nothing. He will kill you, Prince," he went on, his voice void of any emotion.

Alcandor flinched. The forest was something he knew the King of Trylic hated. When he had met him before, to try and negotiate a peace treaty, that had been the main focus of his hatred. Where he wanted most of his destructive forces to go. He wanted to burn the century old trees down and reduce them to nothing but ashes, and kill the beings who had claims to his land older than their own race did. That was something he could not stand aside and let happen. Alcandor would protect the forest like he protected with his kingdom - with everything he had. And if it cost him his life, so be it.

"There is something we can do," Alcandor said suddenly, startling the general enough to make him blink and take a step away from the table. He turned his gaze away from the window and let it rest on the vocal man - his name was Azas, he was sure. "But it is something that I must discuss with my Hunters, first." Alcandor was weak in his body, but his voice was strong, deep. Demanded attention and obedience, just like his fathers. His eyes, however, were a soft golden color, like honey. Just like his mothers, and showed nothing but kindness to others. This was how Alcandor ruled, this was how he held respect among the generals, and this why Azas remained silent and didn't speak against him.

Alcandor stood slowly, suddenly feeling very tired. "This must remain a secret, and cannot be exposed to those who would be leaving the kingdom, which is why I am sorry for my secrecy with you all." He paused for a minute, looking once more over the faces of the generals. "If this plan works, then we will not fall. All I ask is one thing of the people you command," the generals nodded. "I need a month, one month of time. If my plan works, then this war will be over and peace will be restored. If it does not, then all that Azas said will happen." His chest constricted again. If only his father hadn't neglected his duties for so long, none of this would have happened. They knew it, and he knew it. But no one could blame him. He was still king, and an angry, grieving king was a dangerous man.

"You're all free to go now," Alcandor said, motioning towards the door with his hand. They all bowed their heads before leaving, in respect for his ranking, but Alcandor required that no one actually bow. They left the room quickly, and he followed out at a slower pace, listening to the sounds of their heavy boots echoing down the halls. He didn't move from outside of the room until the sound was gone, then he turned and went the opposite way, his steps slow despite his long strides.

In the empty halls of this section of the castle, no one would hear his words of magic as he weaved as spell. A strong wind picked up in the deserted hall, spinning around the Prince like no natural wind would. This spell was directed to the Hunters, to brush past their ears like a whisper and call them back to the castle so that he could give them a new mission. Guilt spread over him as he finished the message, calling them all to the throne room. The wind left with the spell, and would separate to find each Hunter.

Alcandor placed is hand on the wall, the stone cool beneath his touch. After a few seconds, the stones moved away silently to reveal a hidden stairway. He descended down, the few dim lights the only things to show him his way down. This would bring him down to the throne room faster so he could make his own meeting on time. That, and it would help him save his energy, which was already running low.

The stone door shut silently being Alcandor, leaving him alone in the stairway.