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Coriander's hair was blown by the wind that helped to carry their boats north up the river of Enoth. The great lake their capital city stood on emptied into the vast sea that Irradan engulfed. Because of the strong wind and fast current, their boats quickly traveled towards the sea.
He had never been much for sailing, preferring the dry and firm ground to a swaying boat. But he was also the general of the imperial army, and wherever the emperor desired him to go, he went.
There was still much, however, that troubled him about this venture. He attempted to take his mind off of his worries by admiring the grand fleet of Enoth.
Ten beautiful sailing ships had left the port that afternoon and began their journey north. Each was painted white and flew purple sails with the glory of Enoth displayed all around them. None of these vessels were as beautiful as the one he now rode, the Emperor's Might. Five great sails held the wind that carried them along. Hundreds of crew members raced this way and that to steer the ship, clean its decks, and make its voyage smooth.
Rophilborn the Eternal was on board this ship, and all must go according to plan.
Coriander looked out over the horizon and saw the same landscape he had become accustomed to throughout his life: dry land with brown dirt and patches of green grass that grew intermittently along the way.
He much more preferred the view of his home, with its sprawling towers and glittering houses, to this paltry landscape.
But the emperor had requested to sail.
Looking back over the rails at the ships that followed behind, Coriander was able to make out the one that he had not anticipated coming along with them on the journey.
A black ship with yellow sails trailed the white ones that proudly flew Enoth's colors. The last ship flew only one flag: the yellow and orange flag of the Order of the Comet.
Rophilborn's last command still unnerved Coriander. Why had the emperor desired these radicals to come along with them? Why had resources been made available to help them come when the city was in need of every ounce of wheat it came by?
“What troubles the mind of the great elf general?” a deep, low voice asked as Coriander snapped out of his reverie.
“Nothing,” he replied, without glancing to see who had spoken to him.
He already knew.
“And why aren't you with your priests on the ship you thought we needed to bring with us?”
The tall priest joined him at the railing, looking back to the black ship. Coriander could nearly hear the smirk that was on Cedric's face. The priest knew the emperor's approval caused Coriander much chagrin.
“His Excellency requested that I join him on his personal vessel, much like yourself,” he said with an air of pride and satisfaction that caused Coriander's fist to curl.
The general turned towards the priest and eyed him with suspicion.
“I do not know what you are plotting, Cedric,” Coriander said, pointing a finger at him accusingly. “But I quake for the empire if you've managed to put your poison into the heart of the king.”
Instead of backing away at being threatened so, Cedric stood and smiled widely.
“There is no need to fear, General,” he said smoothly. “The empire is in the blessed hands of the Eternal One. We have nothing to fear.”
With a smile still etched on his face, Cedric began to walk away. As he went, he stretched out his arms and began to proclaim, loudly:
“The glory of Enoth sails to the ignorant lands. Let us praise the Eternal One and show them his power!”
Coriander's fists clenched and his eyes narrowed at the priest. He already knew full well that this would not be a peaceful voyage.
Coriander could hear the voice in his head as clear as it had been that day.
"I can't come to see you anymore."
"Why not?" he had asked.
Listening to the voices inside his head made him realize just how desperate his own words had sounded. He wasn't asking. He was pleading.
Imploring.
"I just can't."
"It's because of him, isn't it?" he had accused. He now could feel the hurt that he had wanted to inflict with those words. The hurt he felt for saying them.
In his mind, he saw the pain that those words had inflicted and the regret that he had tried so desperately to hide.
"It's forbidden."
"Coriander? Sir?"
This new voice was not inside his head, but rather from outside the door to his room.
"Yes," he said, bringing himself back to his current surroundings. "Come in."
Night had fallen and still the ship sailed north.
Coriander had retired to his chambers, intending to get a full night's sleep after being so busy the previous few weeks preparing for this day.
Instead of sleeping, he sat in a chair by his desk, pen in hand and blank piece of paper in front of him. The words he had intended to write had been interrupted by his reminiscing.
Evelyn opened the door and stood at attention in the door frame.
"Yes, Evelyn, what is it?" Coriander said, sitting himself up.
Evelyn cleared her throat.
"His Excellency requests your presence on the deck," she said, apparently still star struck from being addressed by Rophilborn and being sent on an errand for him.
Since the emperor normally stayed in the Imperial Palace, away from his subjects and out of communication, having him so accessible and present felt strange. All the elves on the boat seemed to be cleaning and sailing to the best of their abilities, as if their lives depended on it.
Coriander put down his pen and put on his uniform coat. He was going to see the Emperor after all. After a moment, Coriander was ready and walking out the door with Evelyn.
"When you're talking with him, see if you can catch a glimpse of the black ship," she said under her breath as they rode up the stairs down to the lower deck.
Coriander studied her, puzzled for moment, but she only shook her head as she looked up in the direction of the voice calling them.
"General Coriander," came the voice of Rophilborn. "I would be honored if you would join me for a stroll along the upper deck.
Looking up, the elf general saw the emperor dressed in a modest gold robe, holding his hand out to him.
Bowing low, he started to ascend the stairs and join his ruler above. He looked back to see Evelyn standing at attention near the stairs to the lower level.
Her presence had not been requested.
It was a beautiful spring evening. The stars shone brilliantly up above in a cloudless night. Just before reaching the top stair, Coriander glanced to the end of the procession of ships and saw a strange orange glow emanating from the deck of the black ship filled with priests of the Comet.
The sight unnerved him.
"General, I must give praise where praise is due," Rophilborn said as he greeted him at the top of the stairs. "If there have been any impediments to our leaving I was not aware of any of them."
Coriander bowed another time.
"My commanders are top notch, Your Excellency," he said. He was being honest. Finore and Evelyn had worked tirelessly to ensure this journey would be flawless for their emperor.
"I see you put your faith in the right people," Rophilborn said as he turned from Coriander and began to walk to the other side of the upper deck. Since it was night, there were very few elves up on deck. The captain had retired to his quarters; his first mate, a plain but gifted sailor, was at the helm. She bowed her head at the approach of the Emperor and saluted Coriander. After this, her eyes remained straightforward and her mind appeared fully fixed on the task at hand.
Reaching the other side of the boat, Rophilborn put a hand on the railing and looked at the landscape that was dimly lit by the light of the full moon.
"I hope I have done the same," he said in a tone that sounded more like reflection than a question or observation.
"Your Excellency?" Coriander asked, not following his leader's train of thought but joining him at the railing all the same.
"I hope I have put my faith in the right people," Rophilborn said more resolutely. "I'm the oldest living of our people, though none who see me could tell. Some venerate me as an object of worship.”
This was an understatement, Coriander knew. Many elves did worship the emperor. Not as a god, but simply as the most praiseworthy elf on Gilia. Such a title was not lightly given.
Rophilborn continued as he stared off to the horizon.
“While I do not attempt to stop them, for I value their loyalty, I do not know if I deserve their praise."
Coriander was caught off guard by this statement and did not know how to respond. He simply stood next to his emperor and said nothing.
Rophilborn noticed the silence and he turned to Coriander. He smiled as if seeing him for the first time.
"You have served me well," Rophilborn said as he looked into the eyes of his general. "There have been many who have led my armies in my lifetime, but none who have done so quite as well as you have. Under your leadership we have united the elves of the south under our banner. None before you were able to accomplish such a task.”
Coriander's chest swelled with pride.
"Thank you, Your Excellency," he said, overwhelmed.
Rophilborn turned back to the rail and his attention to the skies above him. Coriander took in the sight himself with a new sense of appreciation.
"Are you familiar with the legend of Therenor the First, mightiest of Emperors of Enoth?" Rophilborn asked.
There were many legends in fairy tales Coriander had heard in his younger years and quite a few he had told himself to encourage his men in difficult battles. These were of warriors and kings long ago who fought valiantly and lived well.
But Therenor the First was not a story he was familiar with.
"No, Your Excellency," he said, trying to remember every tale he had ever been told. "I'm not familiar with that one."
The emperor let out a long sigh, as if reminiscing.
"The legend of Therenor goes beyond even the founding of our great empire," Rophilborn began.
"He was the one who first united the elves of the south and it was he who split from those who worship the trees. He finally understood that it was the right of the elves to use the land, not venerate it."
Such tales Coriander was familiar with.
The splitting of the elves and the establishing of the empire. These were stories he had grown up with. But the name of the elf who had become the first emperor was never told. Most elves just called him, “The Emperor.”
Some even believed that it was Rophilborn who had founded the empire in his youth.
Coriander knew that had to have been impossible.
Rophilborn was the oldest of their race, but even he was not truly eternal.
"It was Therenor who founded five of our great cities,” the emperor continued. “Including the Imperial Palace on whose throne I sit. It was also he who discovered the secret to not just long life, as our race has been blessed with, but an everlasting existence."
Rophilborn turned and faced Coriander for the first time since beginning his tale.
"I am called Rophilborn the Eternal, but that is only my dearest hope and aspiration. It is told that Therenor the First never died, but willingly gave up his throne. I desire that life. I need that life. Death must never touch me."
Rophilborn looked back to the stars above and Coriander wondered at what the emperor was telling him.
"That is the true purpose of our voyage. There are secrets to this land that only Therenor has uncovered. I desire to know what he knew and attain what he had. I desire to be an eternal one, just as he was before me."
Rophilborn put a hand on Coriander's shoulder.
"Make sure that the faith I have placed in you and your leadership has not been in vain. For greatness always comes with sacrifice."
Coriander looked into the eyes of his emperor. He saw warmth and light, as he always did whenever he met his gaze. But this time there was something new. Something that he had not seen before.
A fire.
A burning passion.
A driving and resolute force.
After a moment, Rophilborn removed his hand and began to walk down off the deck, nodding at the first mate still in command of the wheel.
"Rest well tonight, General of the army of the elves. Tomorrow will be a new dawn."
With those parting words, Rophilborn retired to his room.
Absentmindedly, Coriander walked over to the wheel and stared ahead, unseeing.
He didn't know how long he stood there in silence before voicing the question swimming inside his head.
"Do you fear death, sailor?" he asked the first mate.
With a breath and a slight adjusting of the wheel, the female elf considered it.
"No more than I fear the sudden storm,” she replied stoically.
Another moment passed before she added, “or an untrustworthy captain."
The two elves stood in silence for several long moments before Coriander himself retired to his room, many thoughts in his mind.