I bet you all were expecting me to tell you what happened next.
Haha! Not yet. First we shall explore the tragic demise of Quiverus’ one true love, Petunia.
It was a dark and stormy night, on the 5th of May, 5 years ago. Petunia was dressed for a spring rain, and Quiverus had yet to don the black robes and dark insignia that would become his trademark. Instead, he was dressed in the fair robes of the elven people, and a smile graced his exceedingly pale face.
“Let’s get married,” said Petunia, who had waited her entire life for this moment. Quiverus blushed crimson, took her hand, and frolicked with her through the field, through the wood, and into the Elf Realm of Elvinor.
No one knew they were in love. They surprised them with the happy news the day they asked to be wed.
The problem with keeping your inter-species relationship a secret, of course, is that the reveal doesn’t always go the way you think it will.
Unfortunately, Elven Lord Braylaw was not a kind or forgiving man. He saw Petunia’s relationship as betrayal, and proof she would never be fit to rule Elvinor
The penalty for treason was capital punishment. The Lord Braylaw considered himself to be a fair main, and he was—to a fault. He refused to spare even his own daughter. As a gesture of good faith, Quiverus was invited to attend the execution.
Welp. As you might’ve guessed, events didn’t go the way anyone thought they would.
Quiverus was successful in a hackneyed rescue attempt, but not successful enough. He and Petunia fled the Elven realm, safely returning to Quirinius in one piece. Unfortunately, the moment they arrived back within the castle grounds, she was shot dead by an arrow, because the royal archers were under orders to shoot dead any elf within 500 yards of the castle.
It was a old order that nobody really remembered anymore—a relic from the Elven Wars. Unfortunately, one of the archers was so old he’d actually fought in the Elven Wars. They’d been considering retiring him for a long time. Well, there you have it—keep your work force updates. Procrastination always has its consequences.
So Petunia died, right there, in Quiverus’ arms, and aside from the grief that always accompanies such occasions, he was struck by her inability to escape certain doom, and wondered if this hadn’t somehow been her fate all along. Which also made him wonder if he himself was destined for some horrible, inescapable fate, like never finding love.
Anyhow, the week after, nominations for governor were up. Previously he wouldn’t have considered running. He wanted to get married and start a family.
But now? Now he was a free man. Plus, it would give him something to focus on besides Petunia’s death.
So he said “hell with it,” threw his hat in the ring—and they elected him.
And now here he was, Governor of Quirinius, and all he was doing was looking through this stupid book portal, hoping the man on the other side could somehow help him.
What a pickle. What a pickle indeed.
ns216.73.216.253da2
and then Add to home screen.