Some days, I allowed myself an hour or so in the evening to study for myself.

I had received a solid education from the age of five until I was twenty, but for the last seven years of my life, my further education had been entirely up to me.

History was my favourite subject. I indulged in books about past days, both mistakes and victories that, hopefully, would render me wiser when it came to the decisions I made for my kingdom. But I also involved myself in mathematics, astronomy, religion and the five great languages.

Languages were, I would have to admit, another one of my "talents". I was fluent in Libraeic, the native language in my kingdom, named Anderion but popularly called the Kingdom of Autumn Firedue to the never-ending autumn in the capital valley. But I also studied the other four languages in order to communicate with other, more distant parts of the world.

In the Far East were the tropics, ruled by the Gaddhian monks, who I had met several times, conversing in their native language Castellion, named after their main God Castellara, as it was believed that the language had been given to them by Her. The monks of Gaddha were genderless, translucent and sparkling with a golden light. They were a great weapon in war during the day, when they were almost invisible, but had to be hidden at night, when their sparks provided too much light for it to be safe to use them in battle. When you roamed the dark forests of the tropics, you encountered the monks almost as glass silhouettes of humans, with flecks of light that evaded your sight when you tried to lay your eye upon them, just like those small spots in the sky did. Their biology was poorly studied, mostly because they didn't allow themselves to be used for studying, yet they were otherwise enormously helpful.

In the far south, at the pole of the planet, were the Winter Lands of the South Pole, where giant crystals came alive and created civilisations so complex, I had only scratched the surface even if I had read every book about them. I had travelled there in my early twenties, speaking their language of Somballak that consisted mostly of scraping noises and melodic singing. It was the crystals of the South Pole that had taught me the magic that I now forced down my arm leading to my sword or arrow in battle, to increase the precision, speed or force, depending on what energy I conjured from my heart. I was the only elf they had ever taught their secret. They were great at war, but rarely involved themselves, and I would travel there to try to recruit them for this one.

West of us were the desert of Kunos, where traders who spoke Arabesque ruled the lands. They were hostile but extremely efficient and reliable when it came to transporting goods, and were often paid by us to transport goods to and from our kingdom. They were human, and thus I wanted as little interaction with them as possible, yet made sure to know their language to be able to trade.

Lastly, there were the small islands dotted around half of the globe, consisting of the vast Scarlet Ocean, of which little was known. Even if the islands were spread across half the planet, and the creatures inhabiting them varied from mineral-based, egg-shaped Scopians to another species of elves that were taller than us but more peaceful, they spoke the same language of Violettan. Violettan was the most difficult language of all to master, even more so than the scrapings and clicking of Somballak of the crystals, due to their complex grammar or, in some cases, complete lack of it.

I had been studying the languages since I was five, and was fluent in all of them except Violettan, seeing how little I, or anyone else for that matter, had interacted with the inhabitants of the Scarlet Ocean. But I had come to learn that a big part of the cultures of the world could be learned by learning the language of that culture; how they built their sentences, how they structured their grammar or how many different words they had for the same thing spoke volumes about the heart and soul of the individuals using the language. For example, the Arabesque language of the desert of Kunos had five different words for "camel", and seven words for "sand".

I leaned back in my high chair with my book of biology going through the molecular structure of the living crystals of the South and sipped my mug of warm orange wine that was perfect for the never-ending autumn as the sunset shone in through the high crystal windows of my salon. I tried to distract myself from the meeting earlier today, but it wasn't an easy task. I had entered the vast meeting room, its absence of walls letting the autumn breeze in from every direction. Dark wooden pillars surrounding the round room held the glass roof up and the whole constellation was like a mockery to the outside world, saying 'we can plan war openly, we are so highly skilled that even if you know every detail of our plan, we will win'.

"The humans of Anderion are gathering. They are collecting them from all across the country in order to try to take down the throne."

It was one of the captains who spoke. He was twenty-four, three years younger than me with long, blonde hair in a soft updo showing off his pointed ears that were pierced and decorated with emeralds from lobe to helix. I'd had him once.

"Their numbers?" I asked.

"More than we thought."

He needn't say more. I looked at my captains. I always made sure to make eye contact with all twenty of them at regular intervals during the meetings, not only to make them feel seen and that they could trust me, but also to show that I trusted myself and thus gain more power over them.

"The best treatment for an infection is prevention", I said. "If there is any hope of preventing this war, I want to partake in it."

"The humans are rallying for equal rights as us elves."

"That's just not possible", I retorted.

"We are aware, Sire."

"I have a suggestion."

Another captain, a female with long, black hair and almond eyes was speaking.

"Please", I invited.

"We used to travel much more than we have these past years. We used to trade directly with human and elven cities alike, not sending other traders but actually going ourselves. I believe that might've made a difference. The humans could see we were living beings with beating hearts and warm flesh, so imagining a war against us must've felt much less palatable. Humans are soft at heart like that."

I knitted my long fingers together, leaned my elbows on the table and leaned my chin on my hands.

"Empathy has never stopped us from going into war", another captain, whose hair that was short, which was unusual for elves, and brown, said.

"We must remember that humans aren't trained to look past the value of living beings as we are", I said. "We are trained not to hesitate to kill. They are not, rendering them easy. I think trying to integrate more with humans is worth a try. I need a change of scenery, anyway."

"Of course, Sire."

"Sire. What do we do about... Him?"

I frowned. "He must be eighteen now. Haven't seen him since he was ten."

"What if he joins them?"

"He won't", I said. "I made sure of that."

There was a silence around the table then as the captains considered what might've happened that day. Tales had been told, but I was the only one who had survived, and I had said little.

"Is there any chance he would come to our side?" the female with almond eyes asked.

"Absolutely not", the first captain with the soft, blonde updo and emerald piercings said.

"I doubt it", I said, having been trained to be softer in my claims as was befit of a king. "We leave next week to trade a bit. Be friendly. Make the humans talk among each other about our gentleness because God knows they like to talk. Tomorrow, we will plan war strategies. I wouldn't call it a back-up plan. I believe this war will happen. Yet, I want the history books to claim I tried everything to prevent it."

I came back to the now, put my book of biology to the side, stood up and once more went to my pink marble balcony. The sun was setting, warming my face as a gentle caress.

What if he were on our side...

I shook my head trying to chase the thought away. He was a human. And a strong-minded one at that. The type not to be broken down but take what happened to his heart to make him stronger. If he joined the war on the side of the humans, though...

I realised how crucial it was that he didn't.

Even if it meant that he was killed.