“Excuse me?” These words broke the silence, causing Lanyon to look up from his book. Standing before him was a young man perhaps two years younger than him. Through, it was hard to tell just by looking at someone just how old they were. For all he knew that this stranger was older than he appeared. The only thing he knew about the one before him was that he was not one of his subjects and that he was now gawking at him. Lanyon could only guess why— his appearance or rather the lack of one of his eyes was alarming. The stranger surely had heard stories—everyone had—but that never seemed to properly prepare people for the missing eye. There was a part of Lanyon that wished to see how long this outsider would stand there staring at him so, but he had asked for an audience with the Virannovan king and Lanyon was more curious what an outsider wanted than having an staring contest. However, before Lanyon could voice his question the stranger exclaimed “You are even more beautiful than an angel”
Of course, he should have expected him to say something like that. Everyone seemed to. They stare at his missing eye than act like it wasn’t there. It was frustrating, but Lanyon did not give away these feelings. He never did. He responded to this stranger’s words—as he did the thousands that came before—with an amused chuckle bubbling forth from his lips “Do I now? Have you seen many angels?”
The stranger looked down—uncertain “No” but than they shot back up, meeting Lanyon gaze with unwavering confidence “but, if I did none would be as lovely as you”
Lanyon’s face was emotionless. Many called this a look of a leader—some claimed you could determine the good leaders from the bad from how well they maintained this lack of expression. This was not something Lanyon was certain he agreed upon, but being able to mask his thoughts and feelings did have its benefits. There were so many ways Lanyon could respond to those words, but instead he turned his attention towards why the strange had come. “What brings you to my kingdom?” He asked bluntly “Are here you hear to strike up a deal to end the war between your nation and mine?”
He didn’t bother to tell the stranger how pointless such a thing was. Let him learn the hard way. Let them all. The male shifted around upon his feet, biting down upon his lips and for a moment it appeared he wasn’t going to answer. “I’m a witch” he blurted out before Lanyon concluded that he had indeed been sent here as some kinda bargaining chip.
This was not what Lanyon expected. Sure, there were witches amongst his people. They had flocked over to his land as soon as the wall separating Virannova from the rest of the world came down, but many were not forthright with what they were—especially not to him. Perhaps, it was because they feared he would hate them as he did the Casyriasian. Whom knew how many believed it was his every right? It had been a witch whom had nearly killed him when he was a child. It was this same witch whom had stolen his eyes that everyone now gawked at than pretends doesn’t exist. It was this very witch that started the war between Virannova and Casyrias. Yet, in spite this all Lanyon could not find himself hating them. Those whom had been behind the attack had done so out of desperation. They had been mistreated, abused and tortured by the Casyriasians for Iolara knows how long. They probably wished for their torment to end and believed war was the only way to achieve it. Of course, there was no way for Lanyon to know for certain.
The few witches whom he met had not been apart of the group behind his attack. The only person whom he knew had a connection to the witch whom had taken his eye was the guard standing outside his door. From what Lanyon understood they had been lovers, but than he left her for a male witch named Zarick, and this was well before Lanyon’s encounter. “Alright. That still doesn’t answer what you are doing here”
A look passed across the stranger’s face that could only be described as I’m a fucking idiot “I want to fight for you”
Lanyon regarded the stranger for a few moments. There was no reason for him to present himself to Lanyon if he wished to fight for him. He only needed present himself to one of his general’s—expressing a desire to fight and one would have found a spot for him. There had to be more to this. Yet, any idea Lanyon came up with he quickly dismissed. “What's your name?”
The stranger did not hesitate to answer “Eeli Martel"
"Very well, Eeli, you can fight for me. You will be in Zarick’s company” Zarick might not like being given this charge, but if this Eeli had come here with ill intention he would be the best person to uncover it.
One thing was clear this was not what the witch had hoped. If he had come here on false pretenses than perhaps he had come on his own accord rather than under the direction of a group, or that look of disappointment was all an act. Regardless, other than the expression he did not voice his feelings on Lanyon’s decision aloud “Thank you, your majesty. It will be an honor to serve you” He bowed and made quick exit when Lanyon dismissed him with a wave of his hand. He had read up on Virannovan customs before he presented himself. Perhaps he had beens incere in his desire. Yet, the sneaking suspension would not leave Lanyon.
”
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