Chapter 84: [84] Confluence (2)

Normally, if there was no opposition to Eliron’s rule, an election would have never happened.

Instead, this would have been more of a coronation. But now that there was clear opposition, the elves had to pick who they wanted.

The confluence was divided into two parts, the first part was an opening prayer by one of the chiefs, followed by a short speech by one of the Elders.

After these two were completed, then the voting would begin, which was also in two stages.

The citizens would cast their votes first, then the elders would follow suit. When the results of the election had been computed, the winner would be announced, and then the feast would begin.

This feast was a way to signify camaraderie amongst the elves.

Although they came as opponents, they would all leave as friends. The wood elves were a unit, and would forever be one.

This very tradition was one of the things that had kept their bond so tightly knit.

Eliron was seated next to Yennefer in front, Drakili was beside him, next to his own crown bearer, while the crowd sat some feet away from both of them.

The chiefs were underneath the shade of a large three, all twelve of them dressed in ceremonial outfits.

When everyone was settled, and the chatter had quieted down, one of the chiefs stood up, the oldest one amongst them.

He had a lanky build, and was a little short but his face still looked youthful.

The man closed his eyes and went to his knees as he began to chant an elven prayer. The elves joined him, and soon when the prayer was done, he opened his eyes and smiled.

He gave a short speech about Elven history, spoke about the past leaders and the words of wisdom they had passed on. Then when he was done, he announced:

“Let the confluence begin!”

Those in the election board carried around slates with two names inscribed on them, one for Eliron and the other for Drakili.

All you had to do in order to vote, was place your thumb in golden ink, and stamp it to show your support.

As the slate went round, the elves began to whisper amongst themselves.

— Who do you think is going to win?

— Who are you routing for?

Some laughed as they discussed.

— I can’t wait to see the result of this election.

— I don’t care about any election man, I just want to taste that meat!

Some had anger in their hearts.

— Drakili looks anxious today. He should be after what he did.

— How dare him show himself here?

While a few of them were skeptical.

— Voting Eliron means going against the high elves right? Can we really do that?

Eliron remained calm as the elections proceeded. Just like elections were back on earth, the elves were just as talk active.

After waiting for some time, all the elves interested in voting had finally cast their vote; the slates were taken forward to be counted by the elders.

From the mood, everyone could tell who was going to win, and yet, Drakili had a cocky grin on his face.

Sometime later, Lazarus stood up to announce the results of the election.

“Drakili Evaborne!” He declared boldly. “Fifteen votes.”

“Fifteen votes?!” Someone in the crowd shouted, unable to hide his shock, but a sharp glare from Lazarus silenced him.

Although even Lazarus seemed on the verge of laughter…

“Eliron Traquil! Four hundred and seventy three votes!”

The crowd grew ecstatic. A number of elves stood up clapping, shouting in glee at the announcement.

Then Lazarus raised a hand to calm them.

Throughout the entire proceedings, Drakili’s smile had not left his face.

“Now, we shall begin the second phase of the vote. Remember, to be declared Elven lord, the winner must win fifty percent of the people’s votes, and sixty percent of the elder’s votes!”

“Let us begin.”

The first Elder stood up. He was someone that Eliron knew was in support of him, a man that was moved by Eliron’s vision for the future.

He took a deep breath, and then he said, “I vote… Drakili.”

The crowd went deathly silent.

That was when Drakili’s expression finally changed, his smile deepening, birthing a crazed expression.

•••

’Fools!’ Drakili thought.

The foolishness of the youth was thinking they always had things in control, they felt their actions carried weight, and that they could achieve anything if they put their mind to it.

They were wrong.

This same foolishness was why Eliron thought he had a chance against an elder that multiplied his lifespan ten times over.

Drakili was old, very old.

Although he was nothing compared to the high elves, Drakili was the second oldest elf in the village, having lived longer than nearly everyone else.

He had known some of these so-called elders from their childhood. He had carried them, cleaned up their messes… trained them.

Drakili knew them down to their very core.

The second elder stood up and a look of regret flashed past his face as he opened his mouth.

“I vote, Drakili.”

This time a wave of gasps passed the crowd. The agitated murmurs were like music to Drakili’s ears.

He knew their weaknesses, he knew their mistakes, he knew their sins!

If a man claims to have no sin, then he lies, every single person had that one thing they wanted no one to know.

And even when they had no sin…

Drakili could feel joy blossoming in his heart. The sun felt like honey on his skin, and the air felt impossibly fresh.

’All you have to do is threaten their loved ones with horrid deaths!’

These people knew what he was capable of doing.

The third elder stood up and forcefully spat. “I vote, Drakili!!”

Just like that, Drakili had gained three votes consecutively, and those votes were actually four since he was an elder himself. His vote counted as well.

Only eight votes remained.

’I know I can’t win…’

But all Drakili had to do was stop Eliron from gaining sixty percent of the votes.

Once he was able to accomplish that, then the confluence would be postponed.

But by then—

Drakili could no longer hold back his laughter.

Eliron would be dead.

Although he could as well allow Eliron win since he would die either ways, Drakili wanted the satisfaction of watching him fail.

He glanced at the young lord who was watching the voting with a calm gaze.

Another elder stood up and this time, she didn’t even hesitate as she called out his name like a lullaby.

Drakili could see Lazarus clench his jaw, his fist tightened by his sides.

“Forgive them, my lord.” Drakili spoke in a mocking tone.

“People will always save themselves before thinking about others. It is not that the chiefs are bad people, it is just the way people are.” Drakili said, gaining Eliron’s attention

“You should have known better than to challenge someone of my standing.”

“You may be a temporary lord, but I have seen many more summers than you. I have seen lords crowned, I have seen lords fall.”

“I made you an offer, and yet you dared to disrespect me before my ilk. By the time this is done, I would have taken everything from you.” His eyes lingered on Yennefer as he finished speaking.

Then he stared at Eliron, the mirth completely gone from his eyes.

“So, humour me one more time, boy. What will you do now?”

Eliron raised a brow, a small smile playing on his lips.

“Not bad… for a decrepit old man.”

Lazarus was livid.

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