The Legend of the Constellar King

"A week has passed since the King of Thallerion's letter arrived," Laniro began, his voice laced with concern. Laniro, one of the king's most trusted and loyal servants, had been Matar's right hand and eyes in developing the Kingdom of Ossibuz. Yet, their strength remained insufficient for expansion, especially now, as climate change ravaged their agriculture. "And I've learned that Xerxez has agreed to the extreme terms you set for your meeting."

Matar's smile faltered for a moment.

"But what bewilders everyone," Laniro pressed on, "is why you pursue this path when the conflict could be resolved immediately, revealing who holds greater power in Wendlock! Even your father, Sapar, the council, and all the kingdom's dignitaries are enraged! I warned you, Fhajo will not let this pass!"

The king merely smiled again.

"What is your true plan, if we don't focus on this now? We must train, or we will be utterly destroyed!" Laniro's voice rose with impatience, but the king remained silent, listening intently. "I feel as if you are merely toying with us. Is all of this a jest to you?"

Matar burst into laughter, a booming sound that startled Laniro. "Why do you find joy in this, my King?" Laniro asked, a flicker of resentment in his eyes. "Do you delight in defeat?" He gazed intently into Matar's eyes.

"Laniro, being a king is a battle of wits. A contest of plans. It is the mind that triumphs!" Matar declared, tapping his forehead, a gesture imbued with a biting retort. "If you cannot think, you are already defeated!"

He rose from his seat, walking behind Laniro as if they had turned their backs on each other. Matar faced his guards, while Laniro faced the king's empty throne.

"A plan is paramount above all else. What good are valiant warriors or a mighty kingdom if there is no plan? It will surely collapse, like a stone cast into mud, slowly sinking into the depths."

"I read the flowery prose you penned in response to Xerxez's agreement, but I cannot comprehend its meaning! What is your true plan?"

—The ravens soar above, the blood-red ocean gleams like the streams of Cirtax, the four-footed will once more bear the ravens, awaiting again the chicks that will flee across the plains—

"Do not ponder over my ornate writing there; it holds no true significance. Let them interpret it as they will; I merely mock them, nothing more," Matar declared cheerfully.

"That's all?"

"Delve deeper into your thoughts, that you may understand me," Matar mused, turning to face Laniro, who still had his back to him. "You worry too much, Laniro. Do you know where such worry leads? To misfortune." Matar's voice turned cold as he softly tapped Laniro's shoulder. "Allow me to guide us in these coming days. Perilous as the plan may be, I am certain that should we succeed, I will show my brother what I am truly capable of."

Laniro turned, his face etched with a hungry expression, as if devouring Matar's every word.

"Thallerion is surrounded by nations possessing their own Guardian Entities."

"Of course, but what connection does Moonatoria have to our conflict with Thallerion, or any other foe of Thallerion for that matter?" Laniro asked, puzzled. "Are we to wage war against Moonatoria? Everyone believes you intend to challenge Moonatoria as well!"

"We are not fighting Moonatoria!" Matar's voice resonated with conviction.

"Then what is it?!" Laniro exclaimed, a sudden realization dawning on him. "If our purpose there is neither challenge nor combat?" Laniro was bewildered, yet it seemed he had already divined the king's true intent. "Are we to spy from within?" He felt a tremor of fear at the king's design. "Because of the cold of that land, are we ourselves to enter and spy, instead of the ravens?"

"Enough!" Matar's voice cracked with impatience. "I refuse to be judged by my father or my brother, so I have a plan!" He smiled. "And that is also the will of the Corvus Entity!"

"But how will you accomplish this? What you propose is perilous!" Laniro's voice rose in a desperate plea. "If Corvus has a plan, tell me!"

King Matar whispered into Laniro's ear, causing Laniro's brow to furrow slightly, unable to fully grasp the meaning.

"Will they believe us if we are there?" Laniro replied gravely, fearing their peril. "Will they not rain arrows upon us and attack us without warning? We will surely have no escape, whatever their intentions or actions!" He advised. "You know Moonatoria; let us not be complacent, for they are dangerous! Especially with our meager numbers?" He urged the king to change his plans. "And lest you forget, Moonatoria is known for its Ursa beasts!"

"I will not risk all our lives; I will use our weakness, our small number of warriors, against them!" the king declared.

"What do you mean?" Laniro asked softly.

"To make them believe," Matar continued, "and to make them think our purpose in coming is not malevolent, we will bring only a handful of men. However, I command you now, bring me warriors who are thin and sickly, perhaps even dying, to make it truly captivating. It will be most enticing!" Matar commanded.

"Why choose thin and ailing men, when we have many strong and healthy warriors?" Laniro questioned, utterly perplexed. "And what if they collapse and die on the way? Do you intend to offer the reincarnated souls who became ravens to the King of Moonatoria as a gift?" Laniro's emotions warred between annoyance and bewilderment, for the king's ideas seemed sheer madness.

"If the King of Moonatoria favors it, why not?" BroughttoyoubythefolksatMV|LEMPYR.

"Is this even an idea? This is not right, Matar!" Laniro burst out. The king's face finally turned serious.

"Consider this: if you were the King of Moonatoria and saw such an opponent before you?" Matar mused, envisioning the frail men as a symbol of the antithesis to the Moonatorians, who were known for their colossal physiques, some even becoming monstrously obese and slow-moving due to neglect in the kitchens. "You see, you're hesitating, aren't you?" Matar continued. "Unless they see us sowing chaos."

"In truth, that is a mere weak tactic. What madman would believe such a reason? My sole purpose is to enter Moonatoria to gain an opportunity to speak with a certain person."

"The King of Moonatoria?" Laniro asked. "If you refer to King Hedromus, he has long been dead; his son now rules Moonatoria."

"It is his arrogance that allowed Xerxez to outwit him," Matar scoffed. "Even I do not underestimate Xerxez's abilities, especially after he slew a warrior of the Ursa Entity."

"Could it be that Xerxez was secretly chosen by Orion? Pretending the Orion Entity has forgotten the nation of Thallerion, but in truth, perhaps it has been with Xerxez since his birth... like you, Matar. The Corvus Entity chose you when you were but an infant, did it not?"

"The Corvus cannot penetrate the minds of the Thallerions, so I cannot answer that question."

"If that is your will, then I can do no more. I shall agree according to my own desire. I understand now!" Laniro affirmed, accepting his king's decision with a calm and resigned sigh. "And may we truly succeed."

"All will come to pass; I will ensure it!" Matar replied with a smile. "Always remember, the raven's eye is ever fixed where a chick is unprotected by its mother hen." Laniro understood the nature of ravens, how they would strike when the chick was alone.

"Brilliant, truly captivating!" Laniro exclaimed. "If that is the case, I shall take my leave now to begin the search." He bowed respectfully.

"Go forth, that we may embark and journey to Moonatoria swiftly. And do not tell them where we are going!" Matar shouted as Laniro walked away.

"I know!" Laniro shouted back from outside the chamber.