The Clan of Outcasts [Season 3]

Part 4: "Open The Gates"

Three Years Ago.... (continued from previous flashback)

Jaran alighted at the future site for Wildhaven--the vast eastern region known for so long as the barren Wilderness, and instructed the driver to continue on to the castle. He could see the posts intended to mark the entrance of Wildhaven, and the framework that would have supported the simple hedge across the front of it. The vast, empty wasteland would soon be a thriving, living community, if Beren and Zayra had anything to say about it--the whole thing was mostly Zayra's idea, to give the ones who didn't, as she phrased it, "play well with others" somewhere they could have plenty of space to settle on their own terms.

He found Beren standing there, ready to square off against a group of magnificently-dressed strangers.

As Jaran approached, he saw that these strangers carried an unfamiliar standard--odd, because everyone stood squarely in the center of The Realm right now, and emissaries from other kingdoms usually visited by way of the Castle, not over miles of barren wilderness. He nodded to the foremost figure, a pale-faced, silver-haired male with careful lines in a strange design marked on his forehead, a thin circlet of gleaming metal around his head, and--strangest of all--ears that came to a narrow point at the top. In fact, all four figures--two male and two female--had distinctive designs etched over their face and neck, and the pointed ears.

The silver-haired one in armor never moved, but the other male, a dark-haired fellow dressed in a silky-green tunic with shiny leather belts and braces, stepped forward and nodded to Jaran.
"You are the King of this Realm?" he asked.

Jaran straightened and nodded courteously, but kept his head held high. He got the impression that these folk stood very much on ceremony--something that Beren was still getting the hang of. "I am King Jaran, and this Realm is my dominion." He leveled a hard stare at the stranger. "And you are?"

The stranger bowed gracefully. "My name is Spruce, and I am a Low Prince of the realm of Elvendom--at whose gates you now stand." He pointed to the rest of his group. "The ones with me here are High Prince Aspen, High Princess Mignionette, and Low Princess Tamarind."

Jaran glanced all around the area. As far as he could see, there stood nothing but empty space between the first trees of the Forest, and the edge of the City surrounding the White Castle. How many times in the last year had he been in and out of this very Wilderness without once passing by any gate at all?

"That's a lie!" Beren seethed. "There's no gate here--there never has been! This whole region has been nothing but empty wilderness for as long as anyone can remember!"

"Beren!" Jaran cautioned his brother. The females were beginning to fidget nervously. The other male hadn't moved a muscle. He waited till his brother looked at him, and then he tilted his head to the side. "Be calm, or withdraw."

Beren took a deep breath, but he calmed down.

Jaran held his stance before the one called Spruce. "You are Elves, then? Forgive me, I have never in my life heard of any of your race residing within the boundaries of The Realm--not even my father, who was king before me, ever mentioned once about them."

"Your ignorance is noted," Spruce replied, "and hereafter we agree to rectify the situation. Now, as for this region, which you have called a barren wilderness, I must ask your intentions with this region, which for so long has remained untouched and ignored."

Beren let out a loud scoff. "Not that it's any business of yours," he retorted, "but we intend to found a sanctuary for a select few of our citizens here."

Princess Tamarind--a slender beauty with dark eyes, dark skin, and dark hair, spoke up. "Will you not consider perhaps populating another region in your vast kingdom? Could there not be another entrance by which these few may access this sanctuary you seek to build?"