The King of Terror is not a title bestowed upon himself; it was given. A symbol of fear and a reminder to the elven people of what is at stake. If you fear Terror, it will consume you. Terror must not be feared; Terror must be destroyed.
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"Those bloody Sylvians can't be trusted!"
Stonefist pounded his hand on the desk made of the Divine Tree. The sound echoed through the Great Library.
Kindread leaned up against a bookshelf.
"We can't keep them in the dark, Stonefist."
"My family isn't responding…" Firedeath looked lost and worried. "They always answer when I message."
Kindread frowned.
"Let us check if… 'it', has spread past the archives, Anndra—," he stopped himself. Saying the correct title of his student. "Firedeath."
The three quickly traveled to the Teleportation Sanctuary. Standing on the emerald coffin, tendrils enveloped them and sent them to the platform above the Gilded Towers.
On a normal day, this platform was used to study the night sky and gaze deep into the cosmos.
Today, that was not its purpose.
A red cancer was metastasizing on Keceo's body, consuming the Southwest corner of this continent.
Stonefist shook his head.
"Bloody hell."
"It's…"
The words caught in Firedeath's throat.
"Terrifying."
Kindread finished. The red miasma was spreading over the Southern edge of the continent.
"What are we to do?" Firedeath stared at the unnatural stain, then at the flower fields in the Northeastern border. "At least my family is the furthest away."
Kindread looked lost in thought.
"With how quickly it's spreading, that may not matter for much longer."
"Maybe it'll go away?"
Kindread faced Stonefist.
"I don't think that's the case."
Although he tried to hide his emotions, especially in front of his student, his worry was contagious.
"Kindread," Firedeath said. "May I make a suggestion?"
He glanced at his apprentice, remembering what Anndrana went through, being baptized by the red flames. She was Firedeath now. He had to remember.
"You may."
"Let's physically go to their houses," Firedeath suggested. "We have to do something, evacuate to the other continents at the very least."
"And you think the dwarves will house the elves?" Stonefist gave a slight laugh as he looked to the East, where the dwarves were just beyond the ocean. "Those people hold grudges; there is no way they'll forgive us for the Thousand Year War."
"But that was two thousand years ago!" Firedeath pleaded. "Surely they'll—"
"Stonefist is right," Kindread interrupted. "Besides, this doesn't seem to be a problem that can be solved without magic. The dwarves hold no power in that domain."
"Well, what about…"
"Enough Anndrana!" He paused. "Sorry… Firedeath. We must prioritize the care of our people. The other races would do the same."
Kindread's eyes never left the Red Death.
Firedeath hid her contempt.
Kindread continued.
"For now, let's gather the other Whisperers. I feel this is a problem that cannot be solved alone."
Firedeath looked straight down from the platform in the sky to the elven people below. The streets were bustling and packed full of happy and content people—unaware of the Red Death that was encroaching. Firedeath stood and turned to the others.
Firedeath was resolute and firm.
"We have to tell them, the people."
"Tell them what? A mysterious red plague is going to kill them?" Stonefist barked. "Even if they were to believe us, do you want a full-blown panic on your hands? We need to contain this before it gets worse."
"We don't know how to contain this!" Firedeath shouted. "They need to be protected or given some warning."
"We are going to figure it out."
Kindread tried to remain the voice of reason.
Firedeath stood unwavering, balling her fists.
"I know what the fire feels like, perverse and wicked. Like it's tearing your body, limb from limb, then it heals your wounds, only for them to be torn off again. It destroys your organs and reforms them. It is pure agony." Firedeath had tears streaming down her face. "I don't want them to experience that." She looked towards the floor. "No one should experience that."
Both of the Whisperers were silent after her confession. Kindread only felt the flames for a few moments, and that was excruciating. He could not imagine what his pupil had gone through.
"I am sorry, Firedeath," Kindread finally said. "We will go separately and gather the leaders of the houses, then any remaining Whisperers. From there, we will create a course of action."
"Don't think they'd be so pleased about meeting each other, ya know, they've been at each other's throats ever since the Kosmairians—"
Kindread shot him an annoyed look.
"The Whisperers will handle the negotiating."
"Speaking of Whisperers, any news from Reign or Vecro?" Stonefist asked.
"No."
"How are our two most powerful Whisperers silent at a time like this?"
Stonefist paced in a circle, trying to piece it all together as if there was an answer to be found.
Firedeath looked at her hands.
"Does… does your magic feel different?" Firedeath quivered. "Like it isn't functioning how it should?"
"I've noticed that myself," Kindread said. "Maybe this red miasma is cutting our connection with our magic and is the reason our messages aren't being received."
Stonefist tapped his foot impatiently.
"For fuck's sake. No more bad news today, I can't take it."
Kindread looked up at the bulky giant.
"For now, can you teleport, Stonefist?"
"Only one way to find out," he said. "I'll head to the Kosmairians."
Firedeath stepped forward.
"No, I need to go to my own house."
"Ah, yes. I forgot you were a bloody red-folk," Stonefist said. "I'll check the Sylvian house, much as I detest them."
"Then I will see the DeMeteors," Kindread readied his teleportation spell.
Kindread envisioned the black and oddly shaped castle on the Northwestern edge of the continent. It was located where a meteor landed long before the elves were present. He saw the crater as if some sort of monolithic creature had taken a bite out of Keceo itself.
"What do we say when we see them?" Firedeath asked.
Although his pupil was a new person, she was still the somewhat naïve girl he had fallen in love with and wanted to protect.
She's as dangerous as any beast. I must remember that she does not need my protection.
"Tell them to gather here, at the Gilded Towers in Capital City. Tell them to put aside any differences for now. That if they look to the South, they will know why. We need to pool our resources and come up with a solution before we are consumed entirely."
Kindread finished and looked to both of them. The Whisperers nodded in agreement and understanding.
"Let the whispers on the wind guide you," Stonefist spoke the ancient prayer.
"Let the whispers on the wind guide you," Firedeath repeated.
Kindread only nodded.