Sacred City
" The K'arali Council," Corvin licked his lips, pensive," It is them we have to persuade not the king. If he is losing the grip on his power, then it means they, the council are looking to replace him. Hence we have survived this long, untouched. When a new king will be seated on the throne, it will be done by trial. The functionality is simple. The prosperity of the kingdom will be revised in front of the Council. And if they find Arvun unfit to rule he will be replaced by the highest-ranking member of the K'arali. The fairness of the process is questionable but no one has ever attended and this is purely based on hearsay. So all we have to do is create enough ruckus to put Arvun in less shinier light. You might have to resort to using your powers. I know you are not overly thrilled but when the time comes you'll have to light up some fires. There is no need to start a war. Enough just to get our point across. That we are not as weak as they think we are. Keep in mind that the fate of Hessia and Arrington rests on how we proceed during that audience." Corvin sighed when Iris's gaze remained pinned on him, as usual, nothing short of murderous. His sermons weren't an all-time favourite but he had more war experience than her and a basic knowledge of their politics. Whether she liked it or not.
" We will have to wait and see. Plans don't always work out. And we might have to cobble together another way to leave this place alive if it comes to it," She countered and rubbed her forehead. He knew there was a possibility that would come to that, but he felt the need to try.
" Sooner or later we would have found ourselves in the need to deal with them. I'd rather stain their lands with blood before they stain ours," She added, as she fully turned to face him. It has crossed his mind, that Arvun might have sent the missive only to test the waters. To see how they were faring. And if Iris wouldn't have replied to the missive, then most likely Arvun would have marched his armies over the border a long time ago. The news that Hessia was under the Mythrian Queen's protection still held some weight even after all the winters, and summers that scarred the land.
" He would have. He held off only because Hessia is under your protection. Otherwise, he would have trotted over the border long ago," He took a deep breath and turned his gaze towards the now-dead-silent city.
Amid all the internal strife there was a flicker of light, hope that they would be able to turn the odds in their favour.
He pondered for a moment telling her that he was planning to return home once they escaped the wasteland, but he wasn't sure if he was ready to see her reaction. Which most likely she would rejoice upon bearing his decision. Corvin shook his head, and turned his attention away from the city below, facing her, " We will get through this," He took a deep breath. It was more to himself than her," I have every faith that we will, both of us, will walk away from this place unharmed," Sometimes wishing it doesn't make it come true. He deeply hoped that the gods wherever they were, were listening.
" We will," She firmly replied and stretched herself on the bed. The night had fully settled in when he decided to join her in bed. Still unable to get a shut-eye, as his mind began concocting various contingency plans. He'd survived the harsh northern winters, fighting off shikari, and the death of so many people that he held dear to his heart. He desperately needed to survive. They needed to survive. He wouldn't fall by the sword of an orian scum. Or better said lance.
Grunting in frustration, he opened his eyes and looked at her sleeping figure. A small memory to take with him in the eventuality that all of his plans fail. They won't feel threatened by them. One man and a woman. Most likely there will be two guards in the throne room, along with the council who had never wielded a sword in their life. All the grunt work was done by the lower castes in times of war. The K'arali preserved their bloodline as if it was the purest of ores.
Brushing a stray lock of hair off her face, Corvin took in her features as he had done many times before. Perhaps, all of it had been futile from the very beginning. He would probably never be able to live in Ian's shadows. The time he'd spent living in that dream had twisted him up.
Other matters were at hand. He couldn't allow himself to deviate. An already weary mind from his inability to get a wink of sleep was already a problem that could put them in a perilous situation. One last attempt to get some sleep before dawn would creep over Oros. A little amused at his predicament, he closed his eyes. He'd never had trouble sleeping.
A long lost memory of the North before he'd left, resurfaced and played in his mind. He was homesick. Dreissen, Gaerwen, Ironstone. Dakran, Haren and the others and the nights they spent together spinning tales of war, and bravery until the sun roosted over the land reminding them to go to sleep. They never did.
The longing that caught life inside of him, was spreading. Itchy feet. His feet itched to go home.