Alcandor
Alcandor fought the urge to pace.
A Ceirean, after all this time, was found.
The Ceirean family had went extinct before he was even born. A family of sea snake merrow that kept to themselves, the Ceireans were known for their overwhelming magic and being one of the only merrow clans with a common Nameless talent.
Many of the Ceirean were shapeshifters. Instead of the common ability of dragel to go between a dragon and more human form with multiple various halfling forms, Ceirean were known to be able to change their shape further. Even their children without the talent could manipulate their shift better than the common dragel.
The Ceireans were also well known for being as ever shifting as their appearances. Alcandor had heard tales of how mood swings from these particular dragels could lead to devastating results.
And now, there were two of Ceirean descent in front of him.
“The Ceirean family disappeared from Nevarah around five hundred years ago. The family always had small numbers and the heir at the time was a known realmwalker. One day, he simply didn't come back, and when the elders of the family died, so did the family itself,” the words of Kieran came, solemn and low.
The elder of the Ceirean descendents eyes were bright red as they took in this information on his heritage. The young one's eyes hadn't changed from the guarded wariness they had since Alcandor first saw him. Something about the halfling roused his curiosity. Maybe it was his eyes or the tense posture in the human form of the child, as if waiting for an attack. Either way, the advisor's words didn't phase the youngling.
Alcandor saw the other halfling, Levi Ulyian's grandchild, whisper something in the ear of the Ceirean halfling. The younger one tilted his head and whispered back. Alcandor watched the interplay with amusement. Had no one told these children it was rude to whisper so blatantly in front of royalty? They were lucky Kieren was too busy with the adults to take notice or he would be on them like he was on Alcandor's little cousin Alec all the time.
Alcandor could say he did not expect this when he got the call for a possible Lost Child. To find not one, but two members of a clan that went extinct hundreds of years before the Lost Children were lost, was bewildering. Kieran continued his explanation on the history of the clan and Alcandor turned his attention towards his queen. Killigan was watching the halfling boys as well, a contemplating expression on their face.
“What are you thinking of, love?”
Killigan hummed at his quiet question. Their eyes watched the teens attentively.
“Those two are up to something,” Killigan muttered.
Krymsen, standing close enough to hear the words of the royals, straightened his tentacles and changed his grip on his trident to one more ready.
Killigan noticed, of course.
“Nothing like that, I think. Just up to something, not something outright dangerous.”
Just then, they watched as the younger of the halflings moved forward at the older's urging, closer to them and away from the royal advisor, his father, and the Ulyians.
“Excuse me,” he said, fidgeting nervously, “But may I ask a question?”
The words were pitched low enough not to grab attention from the others, though Alcandor noticed the Ulyian submissive watching him.
Alcandor, in a relatively good mood, decided to humor him.
“You may.”
“How exactly would one go about seeking asylum in Nevarah from one of the courts?”
Alcandor paused at the question, unsure of its origin.
“Just one of the courts? Not the merrow court?” he asked.
The boy grimaced as he sent a look back over his shoulder towards the still conversing adults.
“Any one,” he replied, an almost wild look in his eyes.
“Nevarah is a sanctuary realm,” Alcandor said slowly, making sure the boy understood, “Asylum was its purpose. One would merely need to petition the court for full citizenship, and even then, temporary asylum would be given as soon as it is asked for.”
“And what does a petition consist of?”
Alcandor paused, really stopping to look at the boy in front of him. There was a desperation in his green eyes that was sending warning bells through the young king's mind.
“The simplest form is through paperwork, but that takes some time to process. The fastest procedure is of a verbal petition to an acting Crown Royal.”
Alcandor made sure he was as open as he could be for the youngling, seeing if the boy would take his bait and admit whatever was troubling him.
Surprisingly, the boy merely nodded and gave a quiet and demure, “Thank you,” while shallowly bowing before heading back to the older boy.
“See, I told you. They are up to something,” Killigan muttered again.
“I believe you are right, my love,” Alcandor replied, eyes staying on the youngest member of the room.
Alcandor would have to keep an eye out for him in the future.