Chapter Sixty-eight

“Personally, or politically?” Claven shot back. “And before I answer, my question for you is, why did you bring this grump instead of your precious Princess?”

“We’ll start with politically and move onto personally later.” Damion gave him a look that he hoped told of what he expected for those, personal goals. “And Gregon was chosen because he’s my guardian. He brought my pregnant mother as far as he could to help protect me. We ended up near Samanthia. I was unaware of him for most of my life. The Samanthians kicked him out of the village and sent him away. He’s been waiting for my return all this time. He connected himself with the King because he was the only one who knew how to find Samanthia again if he needed to find me. If he hand’t climbed their ranks as he did, King Venron would hardly have accepted me.”

Claven raised his brows at the stoic Gregon who smiled at the praise. “Him? Angry, moody Gregron who everyone despises and fears?” The blonde elf pointed, his violet gaze narrowing. “I don’t believe it.”

“Damion was our Prince.” Gregron sat up, his features red with rage. “The first son of my beloved Brambee and epicenter of a terrifying, and wonderful, prophecy of our folk. Though, sadly he isn’t my own son. I have devoted my life to him. Venron was the only one who knew.”

Inwardly, Damion cringed. To call Venron by his given name was too familiar. The younger elf prayed Claven took it for insult and not endearment.

“He was the only one who could find the village. The only one who knew of our Prince’s existance. The only one aware of his power. After all the shit I went though to make sure he was born and safe, I couldn’t take the chance I could lose him. I had to protect the king.”

Claven studied Gregron for a long while. His features hidden behind a pleasant smile. “You blieve this shit?” He turned back to Damion, his eyes belying the calm demeanor that he wrapped around him.

“He’s sworn fealty to me. And I have all the confirmation I need to know what he says is true. He is the reason I’m alive today, thanks to his choices.” Damion shrugged, focusing his attention out the window where the small building and tents started to raise into larger structures made of sandstone and redstone. They were nothing as grand as what Thambair had, and there were no walls surrounding the city or the palace. “As far as the Princess is concerned, when she learned that I was coming, she insisted that she should also. I didn’t really want her interference though. Grant it, she had reason to believe that you and your empire are the villains of this story, but I wasn’t particularly found of the idea of her arguing the entire time I’m here with you. Nor was I fond of having her walk into the valley of the dragon, if she happens to be right. So, here we are.”

“Has anyone every told you that you think too much?” Claven smiled as Damion turned his head slowly back to his host.

Giving him the most dazzling smile he could muster, Damion laughed. “I’m pretty sure I’ve heard that more than once. From everyone who’s ever known me. But I don’t think it was a bad decision.”

“So, even though you could be walking into the valley of dragons, you’re still here?”

“There are always two sides to every coin. I would be a hypocrite if I didn’t at least do my due dillegence to hear you out and listen to your side of things. Then, hopefully you’ll listen to mine.” Damion let his eyes wander to where Claven’s hand dipped into his robes, rubbing at his own chest.

“So, you’re interested in our counter offer then?”

“Mmmm,” Damion made scales out of his palms, raising one side and then the other, “I’m more interested in knowing your stance on how things should be run, what your goals are, and why. Where do your beliefs and loyalties lay, and why?” He leaned forward resting his elbows on his knees, “I know you want Thambair, so that all the realms are united under the Empire, and so that you can have the lands there. But is that your only interest? Is there something else you want from the Princess?”

“Well, her beauty is enough, isn’t it? You wear your heart on your sleave when it comes to her, so does there need to be another reason? Are you trying to claim her for yourself and to make the kingdom your own?” Claven mimicked Damion’s body language, and now they were practically nose to nose. “You staking your claim today?”

“In a sense, yes. Not that I particularly care about the kingdom or realm in itself, but I have come to the decision that she is mine.”

“Then, you don’t feel too differently from us about females. I own a number of them. How they are treated is my decision and prerogative. Those who listen to my will and do as I say are under my protection and used as my own play things. Those who don’t listen, or deny their place as an object, well, they’re not given protection of any sort. They end up being treated as Volencia was that first day we met. Though, I suppose I actually met Quain that day, as we weren’t properly introduced until the day after.”

“Quain?” Damion felt excitement well up in him. Did Claven know more about who had taken over his body that night? “I had assumed it was Necron.”

“No.” Claven put his chin in his palm, kicking gently at Damion’s foot. “I would have thought that you would know about the gods. Or did the Clagonians decide to keep up their little charade of there only being one god, they called him the All Father for a while if I’m not mistaken?”

Damion felt his eyes narrow. “Why would the Clagonians lie about the gods? They were the keepers of the temple.”

Claven’s finger caught Damionunder the chin. “That is the easiest question you’ve asked. The Clagonians never served the gods. They serve Ephira.” Turning his attention to window, he smiled. “We should have time for me to clarify. A large majority of the creation story runs true to what you know. But the main differences are significant. First difference,” he held up two fingers, “There are two gods. Necron and Quain. Quain is the god that the Clagonians call Necron. Necron is the god that holds nihility magic. Quain does not. Some believe that’s where the jealousy and anger came from, that Quain wasn’t the top brother. It was they, together, who formed the first elves and created all life as we know it today. Necron is credited for those creatures that have been passed on to myth. Those that shared his magic. Sand dragons, crinchaw, your dark hive elves, even merfolk. They disappeared because once Necron was removed from power, Ephira and Quain went after them.”

“Did they destroy him? And why isn’t this the story that is being told?” Damion asked, sitting back, his arms crossed over his chest as he contemplated the thought that everything he knew about the creation was a lie. A known lie. Was that why his father had wanted to keep him away from Necron’s book?

“You can’t destroy nothing, Damion. I will have to explain further for you to understand fully. But right now, we’re here. Let us get inside, and once we’re alone again, I’ll continue.” Just then, the carriage stopped. It was only a moment before the door opened. Claven stepped out, surprising Damion as he turned to offer him a hand down. Damion only stared at it for a moment before Claven’s hand dropped. “Apologies. I was only trying to be chilverous.”

“It’s fine. But I’m quite capable of getting out on my own. Thank you.” Damion chuckled. “Would you have accepted a hand down? Need someone to help you off our horse or someone to help you hold your robs over some mud?”

Claven looked at him with annoyance. “Honestly, I’d feel bad for most folk who even offered. I would be offended to be treated like a female, myself. However, when it comes to you, I think I would quite enjoy it. I’m sure I’m just being insane, but you give me certain feelings. I want your attention and protection. I wonder, if this is how you make the Princess feel too. I couldn’t blame her for her interest in you then.” A blush rising on his cheeks, his hair whipped through the air as he turned away from Damion, who was now smirking to himself.

Elbowing Claven gently, he offered his arm. Claven turned, pulling his lower lip between his teeth as he stared at the proffered arm. “Would you prefer I put it down?” Shaking his head, Claven’s arm wrapped around Damion’s bicep, moving in close to his side. He kept his head down, allowing Damion to lead him up the dozen wide black marble steps leading into the palace. Packs of sand collected in the corners of the steps, and the large arch leading into the palace was completely open with no doors. Curtains seemed to be the only thing preventing piles of wind-swept sand from entering. They were a see-through material made of black with flecks of gold to match the accents of the palace and the veins that ran through the marble.

Damion contemplated teasing him a little, but thought better of it. He didn’t want Claven to feel too uncomfortable or to start pulling away. Considering everything, the beginning of this meeting couldn’t have gone better. Even to the point where he was starting to feel bad for what he would be doing. The way Claven was clinging to his arm, he could feel the elve’s heartbeat racing.