Feigning Diamonds (A Thranduil Fanfic)

Chapter 17: Bloodstone

"Better a diamond with a flaw than a pebble without." -Confucius

***

With dozens of color palettes scattered across the long table in Idriel's bedroom, it seems almost impossible to test them all in time. Idriel is becoming weary from so much simultaneous magic, and she's starting to feel a little hopeless.

"We don't even know if this will reveal the spell," she says as her hair changes to bubblegum pink.

"It has to," Thranduil says confidently. "It makes perfect sense."

Idriel sighs, but tries to stay optimistic. "What if we get through all these colors and I still don't have it? I'm pretty sure every color is here, but there are some we don't even know about!"

"Your father would not have made this too much of a challenge," Thranduil reminds her. "He would want us to succeed, right?"

Idriel doesn't answer because she isn't sure. Her father was a very mysterious person sometimes.

Twenty-four color palettes later, no spell is popping up in Idriel's head--her head is actually starting to hurt from all the color changing. She sits down on her bed for a break as Thranduil counts how many colors they haven't done yet.

"You have been working hard," he says encouragingly. "We only have about sixty more color palettes. We can do them tomorrow if you are not feeling well."

"No. I can tell we don't have much time. I'll be fine in a moment."

They start up again, waiting a few minutes in between each color to see if Idriel will be enlightened. Thranduil watches and thinks hard, wondering why her father would make it so difficult for them.

"Did the spell break because he died?" Thranduil asks.

"I believe so, although I am not sure," Idriel says. "Sometimes spells don't break unless the one who casted it dies, but why else would this be happening?"

"Maybe your father didn't cast it. Maybe the one who casted it did die, and we just don't know it."

Idriel glances at him sideways after moments of silence. He is staring at one spot unwaveringly and clenching his jaw, a telltale sign that he is trying to figure something out. "What's bothering you?"

"It just doesn't make sense," he mutters. "I am having a hard time believing this is all because of a broken spell. Someone has to be doing this. If the spell was broken, why is this happening?"

"It protected this place," Idriel says. "Kept it together."

"But why didn't it renew itself? Almost all spells do that every year."

"Because my father died."

Thranduil shakes his head. "That's not it. I know it."

"Then what is it? And why does it matter? Can we just focus on fixing it?"

"I know you're worried," Thranduil says, "but if someone is doing this to Aeldyn, then what's going to stop them from doing it after we fix the spell? They will just break it again."

"Are you saying someone is doing this on purpose?"

"Think about it," Thranduil says. "Spells are not bound to people, especially spells that are long lasting." Idriel seems confused, so he offers an example. "Mirkwood has multiple protection spells on it. Every ruler casts his own, even though the previous ones remain. Spells don't die with their casters."

"Well, this one does."

Thranduil is growing frustrated. "Idriel, someone is attacking Aeldyn, and reinforcing this protection spell is not going to stop them."

"Okay Father Wisdom, who's doing it?" Idriel asks.

Thranduil rolls his eyes. "Did your father have any enemies?"

Idriel clenches her fist. "One."

***

"When shall we deliver the next blow?"

Treyt sits in his homemade throne, picturing his soon-to-be loyal elves asking him this question, not his annoying amateur sprite.

"When I want," he says heatedly. "Aeldyn will be mine in a matter of days, and I can't wait."

"Well, the Aeldyn you rebuild," Juwin, the amateur sprite says. "Because you're destroying it, you'll have to--"

"I know!" Treyt shouts over him. "Please, shut up."

Juwin ignores him, floating over his head doing flips. "I think Thranduil and Idriel will be successful though. Then you won't get what you want."

Treyt scoffs. "They do not know what they're doing. They think they're so clever, thinking they can fix everything if they do the spell again."

"It will fix everything beca--" Treyt flicks him in his small chest, making him stagger back with a puff of sprite dust.

"Too bad they'll be out of time. I can see it now: me, ruler of a whole entire realm! Me, killing anyone who gets in my way! Me," he moves over to look out his window, watching Aeldyn carefully, "finally getting what I want. Me, destroying the Rulers of the Woodland and Hylas realms to overrule every elf residing there!" He turns to Juwin, who is looking at him with admiration. "And soon afterwards, Rivendell will fall to dust--how tragic!"

Juwin laughs and claps as Treyt fixes the crown he made upon his head whispering, "I will rule them all. Forever." He laughs maniacally, a sound spine chilling enough to make goblins flee.