World Eater.

Elmore sat uncomfortably upon the oak bench within his fathers dining hall. The bench had been made poorly, like the table, uneven, and ugly. Why his father refused to allow him to work on the manor, he could not understand. Perhaps the shame of having an artisan as his eldest, instead of a knight. It made no difference. Elmore was done with fighting, for good.

The heavy doors swung open, and Abram Luxloft Warden of the North, stepped inside. His gaze instantly met with Elmores as he made his way towards the table and sat directly across from him. The Warden looked tired, stressed, but there was something else lurking inside. Something hidden.

"Dukain tells me ye were attacked again?" Abram asked, reaching for a bottle of wine from the table and filling a goblet.

"Aye, another caravan smashed to bits by the orcs. They’ve gotten more organized, and seem to be getting smarter. And they’ve begun painting themselves with Methalas colors. I think it’s time ye gave up that skull." Elmore was tired of this. Tired of the attacks, tired of the planning, the worrying… And most of all, the stress this situation had been causing Ellora and her sister. How he might obtain Arryns skull… He still did not know.

Abram stared coldly at his eldest, unflinching, unwavering. He had made the decision weeks ago. "The Clerist has told us how dangerous these items may be. I do not think it is wise to go against him. Or question me."

"And yet you’ve not admitted to him ye have one of the blasted things." Elmores response was angry, his voice begining to raise. "Ye say ye wish to aid the man, and yet ye keep information from him. I do not understand father, explain it to me."

"Ye would be wise not to question me. The Clerist is a wild card in all this. For all ye know, t’was his mistakes that caused the destruction of his world. And his regrets of that ordeal make him useless to us."

"Us?" Elmore raised his brow.

Abram shifted in his seat, taking his hat off and placing it on the table. His demeanor altered, but only slightly, having difficulty getting out his propasal. "Aye, I would have ye move back in with me here, and help me defend the lands. As has always been my intention for ye."

Elmore glared at the man he once had looked up to, so very long ago. "Ye mean after Willow disappeared?" He shook his head angrily, not wanting to be a part of anymore schemes, or plots, or battles. "No! Of course, a thousand times no." He stood up abruptly. "I told ye when ye first showed yerself in Narrowhaven… I will make weapons for yer soldiers, I will shoe yer horses, prepare battlements, and supply ye with what ye need. But I will not fight for ye. And I will not lie for thee. And I refuse to be a part of these old world ideals you refuse to let go of." A single finger raised, pointed at the man whose seed had brought him into the world. "There is no King father. Which means there are no Wardens, which means this is all for naught. Give up your skull, and ye may yet find peace in the North, in your Fortress, and for the people who chose to remain when the rest of us lost hope.."

Abram sat quietly through his sons outburst before nodding slowly, dissappointed yet understanding. "Ye are not wrong to have lost so much faith. In this land, in me. So much Chaos for so long. And your childhood mostly heartache and abandonment. But son, I ask thee to trust me this last time. If we are successful… The land can have a new King, and Order can be re-established in Britannia."

Elmore shook his head once more. "I have a new place father. Narrowhaven is safe. Protected somehow from all of… This. I even met a woman. I have everything I could want and more. So how about this offer instead? Give up the skull. Leave Britannia. And stop all this fighting. There is no point to it."

His fathers long silent gaze was enough of an answer. And with that, Elmore began to leave the room.

"Ye be making a mistake boy. That island shall not remain safe, if ye and the rest of those cowards remain hidden away, leaving us here to fend for ourselves. The World Eater shall be upon thee next! Be warned now son! Ye are making a mistake!"

Elmore did not look back. He only wanted to be home. With Elly.

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