《Encladeia: Thrones & Dominions》 The Map Shop Welcome Welcome to the Map Shop! This "chapter" is mainly designed to provide a map of the known world for readers to view. Hopefully, it can help provide better context for readers and also give a better sense of scale and location. In the future, this chapter may be reorganized to include more information (such as noble families, cities, worldbuilding, etc.). Reading on this site? This novel is published elsewhere. Support the author by seeking out the original. Map of the Known World This map is bound to change! Nothing is necessarily absolutely final about it. Prologue Prologue There was a deluge of heavy rain. A small company of five men rode through the thick woods of the Bothic along an overgrown road. Their green cloaks were soaked with water. Cold and miserable, they were eager to find shelter. ¡°We should find somewhere to lie low, and soon,¡± said Nova, who cautiously scanned their surroundings. They were shrouded in a smothering fog, and the forest was eerily quiet. ¡°Agreed,¡± replied Kerion, the captain. ¡°Perhaps we¡¯ll be able to find shelter in some ruins.¡± Nova looked around and scanned among the trees for anything dangerous. He had been raised in the woods. His father had taught him how to hunt and survive from an early age. Yet, these lands made him feel anxious at all times. There was something ever looming in the air that always kept him on edge, something that he couldn¡¯t quite seem to recognize. Of course, he wasn¡¯t alone in feeling this way. There were others within the Brotherhood that spoke of the Bothic¡¯s uncanny atmosphere as well. Yet, despite the land¡¯s inherently foreboding nature, they had a mission to accomplish by order of their emperor. Nova looked ahead and saw the ancient remains of a crooked stone watchtower. Immediately, he pointed to it. ¡°Over there.¡± ¡°Ride for it.¡± Captain Kerion urged his horse forward. The others followed after him with haste, relieved at having found shelter at last and eager to escape the downpour. They dismounted their horses and left them to rest underneath a makeshift cover outside. Baelis, who was their most skilled swordsman, was the first to be sent inside by Kerion. After he had thoroughly searched the tower from top to bottom, he waved them in. Drenched and shivering, they hastily entered and started a small fire with any wood that had managed to keep dry. With a man stationed above as lookout and another by the entrance to stand guard, the remaining three rangers gathered around the flames to discuss plans. Johan, the scribe, took from his bag a map of the region and rolled it out. ¡°Thank the Lord,¡± said Nova, relieved. ¡°It¡¯s dry.¡± Johan glanced up at Nova. ¡°Thank me, for putting it into the satchel to keep it dry.¡± ¡°Right,¡± Nova apologized. ¡°Of course. Thank you, Johan.¡± Johan remained unconvinced by Nova¡¯s sarcasm, but shrugged it off. The two of them shifted to make way for the captain to gaze at the map¡¯s contents. ¡°Here we are,¡± pointed Kerion, although there was a speck of doubt. ¡°Roughly, anyway.¡± He turned to Johan. ¡°Mark our position and draw in the ruin.¡± Johan took out his pen and drew a slanted tower in keen detail. Nova looked closely and was mildly impressed. Johan¡¯s artistic ability never ceased to amaze him. As Kerion stroked his woolly chestnut beard, he observed the rest of the map more closely. He then pointed to another location, east of where they were. ¡°If our location is accurate, then we should be getting much closer to Ingrid.¡± Nova recalled the significance of Ingrid. It was a small, quaint village in the central Bothic region that had recently sent word of numerous sightings of supposedly ¡°dreadful creatures¡± lurking in broad daylight within the forest. His father had told him many stories about fell things in the woods; trickster spirits that would toy with humans, two-legged beasts that would stalk you in the night and then attack without mercy at dusk, and things that could sound human, yet look nothing alike. Nova always felt a chill shoot up his spine whenever he thought back to his father¡¯s stories. Once upon a time, he thought of them as truth. However, as he grew older, they became more like fairy tales, told only to frighten children and keep them from danger. He thought it ridiculous that they had to suffer in the cold and rain to investigate mere rumors of a supposed ¡°monster in the woods.¡± Yet, though he was a skeptic, he figured there would at least be a legitimate reason for the emperor to send his own rangers to investigate. Additionally, the forests of the Bothic were entirely different to him, not just in appearance, but also in their ominous atmosphere. It never failed to unnerve him, a seasoned and hardened woodsman. He wanted to leave as soon as possible and be done with their mission. Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings. Nova observed the distance between their location and Ingrid. ¡°Only a few more miles, I imagine,¡± he said. ¡°I would hope so.¡± Kerion stood up and nodded for Johan to remove the map. ¡°We¡¯ll rest here. When the rain has cleared out, we head for the village.¡± ¡°Understood.¡± Nova rose and dug through his bag, eventually finding his blanket. When he found a suitable location, he laid down and fell asleep. He dreamt of charming pretty girls and dancing merrily with his companions. The following morning, he awoke from a crawling sensation that was creeping up his leg. Panicked, he tore off the blanket and watched in horror as he saw a massive spider advancing. Acting immediately, he swatted the bug away and scrambled for distance. ¡°Good morning,¡± greeted Baelis as he ate bread by the fire. He was smiling, amused at the spectacle that had just played out. ¡°I see you¡¯re finally awake.¡± ¡°Indeed I am,¡± Nova replied, still recovering his breathing. He watched as the spider slipped away through a crack in the wall. Baelis split his loaf of bread in half and offered a piece to Nova. ¡°Here, to break your fast.¡± ¡°Thank you.¡± Nova took the bread and ate. After he had washed it down with water, he packed up and joined the others outside. Kerion, already mounted on his warhorse, watched as Nova left the tower and got onto his own horse. It was cloudy, and the sky was painted a silvery gray. The storm from the day before had cleared, and the ground was still moist. The rangers set back out and traveled once more along the same overgrown road ripe with weeds that wound through the woods. Kerion, the captain, led their formation as the vanguard. Johan, as their navigator, followed next. Then proceeded Baelis, their best sword, Arnon, their best bowman, and then Nova, who was the greenest of the bunch as the newcomer. All throughout the journey, they felt as if they were being watched by something, or rather, someone. They then found an old stone bridge and crossed to the other side, where an open wooden gate greeted them. ¡°Are you sure this it?¡± questioned Baelis, who observed the gate. ¡°It should be,¡± the captain responded. He led them through the gate and into the village. As they passed each house, they quickly noticed a dreadful stench that plagued the air. Baelis instinctively pinched his nostrils together. ¡°It smells like shit.¡± ¡°That¡¯s not the smell of shit, I assure you.¡± Kerion stopped them beside the village¡¯s well and turned to them. ¡°I don¡¯t know if you lot have noticed, but there seems to be absolutely no one here besides us.¡± Nova looked around, confirming Kerion¡¯s suspicions. There was indeed not a person in sight. The horses grew restless, which troubled the men further. ¡°Draw your weapons,¡± Kerion commanded. ¡°Stay together and remain vigilant.¡± Nova drew his sword and looked around. In the corner of his eye, he saw someone coming to him. He observed closely and saw that it was an elderly man, draped in a tattered brown robe. The old man¡¯s feet stumbled one after another, and his arms slowly swayed at his side. Nova heard as he whispered under his breath, but he was unable to make out what the old man was saying. ¡°You, halt there,¡± warned Kerion, who turned to face the elderly figure. The old man did not stop, and approached Nova. At once, Nova¡¯s horse reared up and squealed. Taken by surprise, Nova whelped as he was thrown onto the ground. His horse then abandoned him and fled from the scene, an act that left the other horses in a frenzy. Kerion and the other rangers struggled trying to rein them in. There was a horrific, rotten smell that permeated into Nova¡¯s nostril. He winced at the pain from his back, and looked up. He saw the old man¡¯s eyes, which looked as though shrouded by a dense fog, idly staring at the ground beneath. He observed the rest of his face and saw it was horribly mangled, with a scar that extended across his face and crooked, rotten teeth that flashed from his gaping mouth. Suddenly, the old man¡¯s eyes darted to meet his. Nova panicked and tried to back away. But the old man was quickly galvanized and lunged for him, screaming. Nova shouted and ducked as Kerion emerged with his longsword. Acting swiftly, he took aim and struck the old man¡¯s forehead with the flat of his blade. Having been knocked away from Nova, the old man growled and hissed in pain. ¡°Stay back!¡± Kerion shouted, pointing his sword. But the old man ignored his warning and charged once more, this time towards the captain. Kerion fortified his stance and raised his sword in anticipation. When the old man came within close proximity, he swung and cleaved off his head with a precise, calculated motion. Nova saw the old man¡¯s headless corpse drop, and looked at Kerion gratefully. As the rush that flowed through his veins wore off, Nova came back to his feet with the help of Kerion. ¡°Recall your horse,¡± said Kerion with haste, as he turned back to his. ¡°We need to leave.¡± Nova nodded, and he brought his fingers into his mouth to whistle, but suddenly stopped. Dozens of other villagers had emerged from nearby and were starting to surround them. He took notice that they shared the old man¡¯s stumbling movement and that they too whispered words that were incomprehensible. ¡°Stay together!¡± shouted their captain. Nova called for his horse and prepared his blade. There were no doubts that their attackers¡¯ intentions were of the murderous sort. Whatever had happened to this village, they were too late to stop, and now they had to escape, to warn the others of what was to come. Chapter 1 | Of Black & Gold Chapter 1 | Of Black & Gold The dim light of a torch descended through the darkness down a spiraling stairwell. Daelanor held the torch as he went, his every step ringing off the walls and resonating into the abyss. The air around him felt cool and smelled like burnt ash. His alluring voice sang out into the darkness. The melody was soft and gentle, like a lullaby. ¡°Obaha¨¦ro, aeso?o la drokaere.¡± Great winged beast, I have dreamt of you. When Daelanor reached the bottom of the stairs, he passed the doorway and slowly entered the lair. His sight had already adapted to the lack of light. He searched the shadows for movement. Cautiously, he bent down to lower his torch. Suddenly the smell of sulfur grew thicker. The ground trembled beneath his feet as something stirred in the deep dark. ¡°D¨®rvas incindas faere?¡± he continued, slowly rising. How scorching are your flames? Without warning, a great stream of fire erupted overhead and engulfed the cavern''s roof. Beneath the flames, Daelanor caught a fleeting glimpse of the massive winged creature that had unleashed them. He watched as the fire spread and set the cave alight. His eyes glimmered in awe. When the firestorm died down, only the small light of the torch was left. Then there were slow, heavy footsteps that shook the ground, and they drew nearer. Daelanor stood as he waited. He could only see a large shadow that moved in the dark. Then its face emerged from the void and slowly came into the light. A dragon. The beast snarled and turned its head to take a better look at him. Its breath was hot, musty, and sour. Calm and collected, Daelanor resumed his lullaby, an old song of the ancient tongue. ¡°Da¨®rvas a lume.¡± How gorgeous you are. The dragon responded to him with a tender groan. Daelanor gazed deep into its emerald-green eyes with a smile, one of reverence and madness. In them, he found a rare comfort¡ªa reflection of his own fierce, unyielding spirit. They were like two sides of the same coin. Anthranor Arathan ¡°Left!¡± Ser Dorristan shouted. Anthranor quickly checked his blade. ¡°Right!¡± He parried. ¡°Down!¡± He checked again, but the knight advanced rapidly. ¡°Above!¡± Anthranor side-stepped this time, and moved to flank Ser Dorristan. The knight proved quicker, though, and swiftly deflected the prince¡¯s sword. Then he drove his dull blade into Anthranor¡¯s breastplate and pushed him back. Anthranor had barely recovered before Ser Dorristan unleashed a flurry of swings and thrusts. He raised his sword and proved able in meeting every one of his attacks. The clashing of their steel rang across the courtyard, drawing in a crowd of curious household guards and servants. Anthranor saw them gathering in the corner of his eyes. Do you have nothing else better to do? he thought. They must have been doubting him, the lowly second-born son, fit for nothing but reading and birdwatching. The laughing stock of the palace. Ser Dorristan¡¯s blade flashed and struck his helmet. Anthranor yelped and winced in pain as he quickly retreated. ¡°Pay attention,¡± scolded the knight. ¡°You¡¯re losing focus. Focus on me, not the crowd.¡± The prince nodded and raised his sword again. Ser Dorristan assumed a more passive and defensive stance. ¡°Now, make your first move.¡± Anthranor saw an opening and went for it, thrusting his sword at the knight¡¯s torso. Ser Dorristan parried and responded with his own counter. The two men exchanged several blows before at last Anthranor landed a good hit against Ser Dorristan¡¯s chest. Following up, he disarmed the knight by knocking down his sword with one fell swoop. ¡°Yield.¡± He pressed the blade¡¯s tip against Ser Dorristan¡¯s chest. Recognizing his defeat, Ser Dorristan raised his hands in surrender. ¡°I yield.¡± He smiled. ¡°You win, my prince.¡± Anthranor sighed in relief as he lowered his sword. It¡¯s over, at last. They had been dueling for the past hour. The unwanted crowd had aggravated his nerves and his body was exhausted from training. He lowered his sword and bent down to pick up Ser Dorristan¡¯s. The knight thanked him as he retrieved the blade. ¡°You let me win, didn¡¯t you?¡± asked the prince. Ser Dorristan innocently smiled. ¡°No, my prince. You won fairly.¡± Anthranor eyed the dispersing crowd, his suspicions persistent. ¡°I respect it, Ser Dorristan. You did not wish to humiliate me.¡± ¡°My prince, I assure you. The victory was yours.¡± Despite his reassurance, Anthranor¡¯s doubt still lingered. The knight gently laid a hand on his shoulder. ¡°It truly was, my prince,¡± he said. ¡°I do not lie.¡± The prince¡¯s eyes met Ser Dorristan¡¯s. ¡°I thank you for your reassurance, ser.¡± He smiled. ¡°Of course, my prince.¡± Anthranor¡¯s stomach grumbled loudly. Ser Dorristan glanced down. ¡°I suppose it¡¯s time for dinner.¡± ¡°Roast beef, wasn¡¯t it?¡± Anthranor shed his helmet. His mouth watered at the thought of a hearty dinner. ¡°I believe so, although I am not certain, my prince.¡± ¡°We shall find out.¡± As they walked back to the barracks, Anthranor caught a glimpse of the setting sun and stopped to admire it. He watched as it dipped below the horizon, the warmth of its rays melting away his troubles. Anya Arathan Anya stared hungrily at the piece of meat that lay before her. Roast beef, it was, and one of her favorites, but she had been forbidden to indulge until her brothers arrived. Her father sat beside her, the towering Aremos Arathan, Emperor of the Black and Gold. Quite frankly, he had seen better days and was well past his prime. His once imposing stature had softened; his swollen gut bulged from his tunic, and his beard was a scraggly mess of dark chestnut hair, which hung unkempt. Today, he seemed particularly foul-tempered, and she knew better than to stir the dragon. The emperor was silently fuming as he sat. The light of the braziers that lined the pillars flickered against the stone walls, casting shadows that crept over two empty chairs. His eyes twitched as he looked about the room, his fingers drumming restlessly against the table. Then he turned to Arya, his chair creaking. ¡°Where are your brothers?¡± ¡°I do not know, father,¡± she replied. ¡°Perhaps Anthranor is training again.¡± Anya shrugged as Aremos sighed in exasperation, though she could¡¯ve at least predicted where one of them was. She knew Anthranor often visited the library, walked in the gardens, and trained with the Imperial Knights during the day. But Daelanor, her elder brother, was more unpredictable. Some days, he would be sparring with three men at once in the courtyard; others, he would vanish with his dragon. The doors of the dining hall opened, and in came Anthranor. He had neatly combed his chestnut-brown hair to the side and he wore his favorite: a dark blue tunic of simple design with golden buttons. Although blue was not among either of the family¡¯s colors of black and gold, Anya knew that he preferred it. Aremos leaned back in his chair, eyeing the prince as he sat down. ¡°Where is your brother?¡± Anthranor looked at his father. ¡°I do not know,¡± he replied. ¡°He could be anywhere, really.¡± ¡°If he¡¯s not here within the next minute, we should just eat without him,¡± suggested Anya, who grew ever impatient. She had already been waiting for nearly ten minutes, and was still counting every passing second. ¡°Besides, the food¡¯s getting cold.¡± If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it. Aremos sighed as he nodded in agreement. ¡°Let us pray,¡± he said. Together, the three of them lowered their heads and held hands. As they began reciting the prayer of the ancient tongue in unison, they pressed over their foreheads and lips with their thumbs. ¡°P¨¢reda Erodus,¡± Aremos intoned when they were done. Thanks be to Erodus. As they began eating, the doors to the hall opened again. All eyes turned to Prince Daelanor as he carelessly strolled in, a smug smirk tugging at his lips. His hair was unkempt and his unbuttoned coat swayed with each confident strut. Anya was already half-way done with her steak when Daelanor took his seat. Her father coldly judged Daelanor in silent contempt, who merely returned his same, smug smile. ¡°You¡¯re late,¡± said Aremos, bluntly. Daelanor¡¯s brow perked up as he took a bite of beef. ¡°Apologies, father,¡± he replied while chewing. ¡°I was rather busy with Dormund.¡± Anya perked up from her plate. Dormund was his dragon, the largest of the realm. During the Marchidium, the beast had been used to great effect against the kingdoms that opposed Alderin the Great¡¯s war of conquest. Her older brother had bonded with the beast when he was seventeen years of age. ¡°And what were you doing with Dormund?¡± Aremos inquired. ¡°Flying.¡± ¡°Flying,¡± Aremos repeated with scorn. ¡°Are you aware that you missed two council meetings today?¡± Anya slowly took another bite. She could see her father¡¯s rage building, his face flushing red. He glared at Daelanor, whose laidback demeanor persisted. The prince scratched his chin. ¡°I seem to have forgotten.¡± Aremos pounced from his chair and slammed his fists onto the table. ¡°Out!¡± he shouted. ¡°All of you!¡± At once and without another word, Anya, Anthranor, and all of the servants with them hastily made way for the exit, with Daelanor remaining. Anya was sure to take her plate with. She exchanged glances with her younger brother as they left the room, the emperor¡¯s voice rising through the corridors as his fury was heard from within the dining hall. Silently, they walked to the palace gardens. The gardens lay in the very center of the palace and were filled with great trees from all over the realm, alongside beautiful flowers and impressive marble fountains that spouted like geysers. After a long moment of quiet admiration of the gardens¡¯ spectacles together, Anya turned to Anthranor. ¡°Be truthful with me,¡± she said. ¡°Do you think Daelan is fit as father¡¯s heir?¡± ¡°No,¡± he replied, studying the ground. ¡°I don¡¯t think so.¡± Anya took the last bite of her steak. ¡°I don¡¯t disagree with you. But don¡¯t let Daelan know. He¡¯ll beat you to a pulp.¡± ¡°He¡¯ll beat me to a pulp anyway,¡± shrugged Anthranor. ¡°He hates me.¡± The mention of it seemed to have soured his mood. Anya stopped walking. ¡°It¡¯s not your fault, you know.¡± He stopped and turned back to her. ¡°What¡¯s not my fault?¡± She gave him a knowing look. Anthranor sighed as he slouched his shoulders. ¡°Come on.¡± She wrapped her arm around him, grinning mischievously as she riled up the top of his head. ¡°Hey!¡± he shouted, backing away as he tried fixing his hair. He cracked a small smile at her, though it quickly disappeared when he saw that she had swindled his dagger. ¡°Hey, give it back!¡± Anya avoided him with ease as Anthranor lunged for the dagger. She dangled it in front of him. ¡°You want it back? Come and get it.¡± ¡°You know I¡¯m stronger than you,¡± he warned. To that Anya merely smirked. ¡°And you know I¡¯m faster than you.¡± Without warning, Anya¡¯s brother started running at her. She quickly turned, taking off at full speed. As warned, she easily outpaced Anthranor and escaped from sight behind a pillar. Peeking from the sides, she looked and saw that she was safe. After waiting for a few more minutes, she slipped away to seek out his chambers. Anthranor Arathan Anthranor had searched for his sister¡¯s whereabouts in the gardens for perhaps some twenty minutes, but in vain. Giving up, he called out to her but heard no response. Damn it, Anya, where are you? he thought, now frustrated. After another round of searching the gardens to no avail, he went inside to scour the palace halls instead. Although he passed numerous guards and servants, he decided not to cheat by asking them if they had seen his sister. As he neared rounding the corner of a hallway, his older brother appeared from the other side. Daelanor looked unpleasantly surprised to see him. ¡°Well, look who it is,¡± he said, a sarcastic smile on his face. Anthranor tensed, slowly backing away. ¡°Daelanor.¡± ¡°Where are you going in such a hurry, brother?¡± Daelan leaned against the wall, his sharp green eyes piercing into Anthranor¡¯s. ¡°Late for a council meeting, perhaps?¡± ¡°No.¡± ¡°Then where are you going?¡± He pushed himself away from the wall and approached Anthranor. His taller height made him tower at least a head above his little brother. ¡°Hm?¡± Anthranor looked up at Daelanor, who now stood over him. His throat felt so tight that he could barely get any words out. ¡°Anya¡ªI¡¯m looking for her.¡± ¡°Ah, that cunning, vicious little fox.¡± Daelanor¡¯s signature smug, self-satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. Anthranor shrank in his presence. He wanted to get away, to be free of him. But Daelanor wouldn¡¯t let his prey slip away so easily. ¡°So I¡¯ll be on my way now,¡± said Anthranor. He went left of Daelanor to try and get around. ¡°Why don¡¯t I tag along?¡± Daelanor blocked his path, grinning. ¡°A big brother wants to spend quality time with his baby brother.¡± Anthranor saw the sinister look that Daelanor had within his eyes. It was difficult to guess what Daelanor was planning, but he didn¡¯t imagine it would be something fun. ¡°So, what do you say to that, baby brother?¡± He leaned in close to Anthranor¡¯s face, enough to the point that his smelly breath was vividly noticeable. Anthranor recoiled from the smell. ¡°No, leave me alone.¡± His patience had worn out, and he turned to promptly leave. Daelanor raised his voice. ¡°I would not have you show your back to me in such distaste, little brother.¡± Anthranor stopped, clutching his fists. ¡°Then what would you have me do?¡± ¡°Enough.¡± Anya bellowed from behind. Both brothers turned to her. Daelanor greeted her with derision. ¡°Why, there you are, sister,¡± he smiled fleetingly. ¡°Anthranor has been desperately searching for you.¡± ¡°Stop pestering him,¡± she said firmly. He didn¡¯t seem to relent, despite her clear indignation. ¡°I was merely offering him help.¡± Anya shot him a nasty look. ¡°He doesn¡¯t need your help.¡± Daelanor chuckled. ¡°He certainly seems to need everybody else¡¯s, wandering around like a lost child, like a little babe that needs his arse wiped and kissed up. Perhaps we should fetch his milk.¡± Anthranor clenched his jaw, his breathing unsteady. ¡°Shut up,¡± he said sternly. Daelanor turned. ¡°What¡¯d you say?¡± He yanked Anthranor by the collar and pushed him back. ¡°I couldn¡¯t quite hear you there.¡± Anya rushed to confront him. ¡°I said enough, Daelon.¡± Daelanor released Anthranor and turned around to face her. ¡°So what if you said it? What are you going to do?¡± ¡°I don¡¯t know.¡± She feigned as if she were thinking hard, and then looked him in the eye. ¡°Perhaps I¡¯ll tell father what you¡¯ve been up to after dinner.¡± He scowled at her, scoffing. ¡°You act as if he¡¯d do anything about it.¡± Anya stood her ground and dug in. ¡°You act as if he wouldn¡¯t.¡± Daelanor had nothing to fling back and only stared at her without another word. She gazed right back at him, undaunted. After a long moment of silence between them, he scoffed, laughing aloud. ¡°Very well, little sister,¡± he said. ¡°I¡¯ll be on my way.¡± He brushed past Anya, his shoulder bumping into her before he left. When he had gone, she immediately went to Anthranor. ¡°Are you alright?¡± She gently put a hand to his cheek. He was on the verge of tears, his face reddened like a tomato. He merely nodded in response, words unable to escape his lips. Anya wrapped her arms around him and squeezed tightly, burying her face in his chest. ¡°I¡¯m sorry,¡± she said. ¡°I shouldn¡¯t have left.¡± ¡°It¡¯s okay.¡± He sniffled. ¡°I¡¯m okay.¡± She pulled back. ¡°No,¡± she said. ¡°It¡¯s not okay. Daelan can¡¯t keep treating you like this. It has to stop.¡± ¡°¡­I don¡¯t know how.¡± ¡°We¡¯ll talk to father, and he''ll put an end to it. For good, this time.¡± ¡°It won¡¯t help,¡± Anthranor responded meekly, his voice barely above a whisper. He knew what would happen if they told father, dimly recalling memories of Daelanor exacting his own retaliatory vengeance in the aftermath. Anya shook her head, her brow furrowing with determination. ¡°We have to tell someone. This can¡¯t keep going. What happens when he sits the throne, Anthranor? What will happen¡ªto you? To us? The realm?¡± Anthranor knew she was right. He looked at her. ¡°Father¡¯s chancellor, Lord Cane.¡± ¡°Grandfather?¡± she asked. ¡°He¡¯s old.¡± Lord Cane Calborne was the elderly chancellor of Aladar and arguably the second-most powerful man in the realm. He was a long-time friend of the family and had been very close to Emperor Alderin the Great, whose son, Aremos, his daughter had married. Of them all, he perhaps had the most sway over their father, who was left a shell of his former glory following their mother¡¯s passing in childbirth. ¡°Old,¡± Anthranor reaffirmed. ¡°But he¡¯s a good man, a wise man. He¡¯d know what to do.¡± ¡°Come on, then.¡± She reached out her hand with a warm smile. ¡°He¡¯s probably in the gardens.¡± Anthranor looked at her hand and smiled as he eagerly took it. ¡°Let¡¯s go.¡± Chapter 2 | Echoes of Legacy (OLD VERSION) Chapter 2 | Echoes of Legacy Anthranor Arathan ¡°I, Aremos the First of House Arathan, do hereby swear to uphold my oath: to faithfully guide and nurture the realms, to act as an unyielding shield for the people, and to foster peace and prosperity for all.¡± Those were the same words that his father had recited aloud before the masses in the Great Seat of the Three Gods a month ago. Some nights, he dreamt of revisiting that scene. The words of the oath always stuck afterwards like sap to a tree. Forty-seven years ago, his grandfather, Alderin the Great, had also sworn the same oath. One day, Anthranor knew that he would be the next. Anthranor opened his eyes, staring up at the ceiling. For a moment, he admired its painting, which depicted a scene of Alderin the Great¡¯s coronation, his grandfather. The Emperor, with an ornate crown atop his head, stood tall upon the stage. The lords and masses of the realm stood around him, praising his name and welcoming him with open arms like a messiah. How could he ever live up to that? Anthranor shifted in his blankets, trying to get more comfortable. A stone statue of Alderin the Great stood opposite of his bed. He was depicted in his prime: an elaborate crown upon his head, clad in armor with a cape, and clutching his spear. He was said to have been tall, handsome, and strong in his youth¡ªfitting for an Emperor. It saddened Anthranor to have had to watch his grandfather wane in his old age. His face had withered, his body had grown frail, and his strength had all but faded. ¡°One day you will wear the crown,¡± he had said to the prince on his deathbed, chuckling. ¡°You¡¯ll hate it more than I did.¡± He had always looked up to his grandfather and even now, consistently found himself thinking about him. Alderin was a legend, after all: the great Founding Father of the Aladarian Empire. When Anthranor was still a young child, Alderin would visit his chambers and tell many stories about his adventures from his younger days, including when he met and bonded with his archebeast, Arsaehid. Anthranor smiled, recalling how they would often talk late into the night. He was a curious youth that never seemed to stop asking questions. At times, he could barely remain awake for his tutoring lessons the following morning. No matter how much the young Anthranor begged, though, his grandfather refused to share his experiences of the Marchidium, the Great Conquest. He had little choice but to resort to the unsatisfactory history books, which seemed to only constantly praise Alderin the Conqueror and detail exaggerated legends of swift, absolute victories with few losses. He wanted to know about the real truth of the story, not some fabricated and glorified mythos. Anthranor saw that there was an open book lying on him over the blanket. He lifted the novel up and skimmed over its title. History of the Golden Rocks. I must have fallen asleep in the midst of reading last night, he thought as he closed it. A page turner, by no means. He set the book onto the nightstand and stood to stretch, yawning loudly. The city bells tolled in the distance, prompting him to wonder what time it was. Suddenly, there was a loud knocking from the door. ¡°Your Highness?¡± Anthranor turned, hastily sliding his shirt on and sloppily buttoning it together. ¡°Come in!¡± A servant opened the door and entered, bowing as was custom before addressing him. ¡°Your Highness, they are waiting for you.¡± The prince frowned, yanking his trousers upwards and slipping on his boots. ¡°Who?¡± he asked. ¡°The Emperor, his Gauntlet, and the rest of the Imperial Council, Your Highness,¡± the servant replied. ¡°They have been waiting for a while now.¡± ¡°Inform them I am on my way!¡± Anthranor rushed to his mirror, panic coursing through his veins. The servant departed as the prince dunked his hands into a bowl of water and began taming his messy, dark brown hair. Sweeping his hands through, he arranged his hair towards the right to create a side swept style. As he gazed into the mirror, he saw that the top of his head looked odd and stupid. Frustrated, he frantically ran his hands through his hair again to remedy the flaw. The attempts would prove futile despite his efforts, and he was still adjusting his hair when the Imperial knights opened the doors to reveal the council¡¯s chambers. Cane Calborne Cane rubbed his lower back, attempting to mend the pain that was gnawing at him. His hips were always bothering him as well. He was an old man, after all, approaching his eighties. ¡°Well, where the hell is he?¡± inquired Aremos, the Emperor, who sat impatiently at the end of the ironwood table, his back to the large balcony that overlooked the bustling harbor. The other councilors looked at each other nervously as they felt the Emperor¡¯s temper fuming, but Cane remained calm. ¡°The servant assured us he would be here, Your Grace,¡± he said. ¡°He should be here shortly... I hope.¡± ¡°We have already sat here as if we were lame ducks for twenty minutes since then,¡± said Aremos in response to his Gauntlet, seething. ¡°The council starts now, I will deal with my son later.¡± The councilors nodded in obedience, shifting their papers and straightening their posture. ¡°What is our first order of business?¡± Aremos asked, looking at each councilor individually. Cane cleared his throat. ¡°It would seem the Master Sapient¡¯s predictions of the storm season ending were slightly inaccurate. The Zerpentian scouting fleet has gone missing, along with Lord Baron. Kelin¡¯s Point sent word that they missed their expected return date.¡± The elderly Master Sapient scratched his crooked nose awkwardly and twiddled his thumbs, clearly embarrassed by his misjudgment that had potentially led the Zerpentians to disaster. ¡°I see,¡± responded Aremos, who looked disappointedly at the Master Sapient. ¡°Arrange for scouts to thoroughly observe the weather patterns along our eastern shores in the north. If, and when it is safe, send out search parties on land and sea. Lord Cane, please send a message out to the other houses commanding them to commit men for the search. House Corent, in particular, for they rule in the north and are closest to where Lord Zerpentis disappeared.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Grace,¡± Cane complied, dipping his quill in ink to transcribe the message onto a piece of paper. After completing the order, he sealed the scroll and handed it to a servant for delivery. ¡°Now,¡± Aremos continued. ¡°Have we heard any word from the Greencloaks on their mission?¡± ¡°No, Your Grace. The Brotherhood has gone quiet, and we have not received any hawks for quite some time now.¡± Aremos frowned, turning to look at his Spymaster, Therion. ¡°Have they roasted all of their birds for supper, or what?¡± he scoffed. ¡°Perhaps, Your Grace,¡± replied Therion. ¡°But we cannot know for sure at this hour.¡± Aremos placed both of his arms onto the table, sighing deeply. ¡°Send hawks to relay messages and restore our ability to communicate. In case that yields no fruit, send a party of men as well to the Bothic.¡± ¡°Yes, Your Grace.¡± Therion forwarded a message for a servant to deliver. The doors to their meeting chamber were suddenly opened by two knights of the Imperial Guard, Ser Dorristan Kelsaphon and Ser Braathos Worth. They were adorned in dark armor complemented with golden patterns and draped in black capes bearing a rearing golden archebeast. Between the two knights emerged the crown prince, his hair a chaotic mess. This tale has been unlawfully lifted without the author''s consent. Report any appearances on Amazon. ¡°Prince Anthranor Arathan, Heir to the Crown,¡± announced Ser Dorristan. All present at the table turned, watching as Anthranor descended the steps and bowed in the presence of the Emperor. ¡°Your Grace,¡± he greeted. Aremos slowly rose from his chair, his face wearing a silent outrage. The other councilors stood as well, bowing to the prince. ¡°Your Highness,¡± Cane smiled. ¡°We are so glad you could finally join us.¡± Anthranor returned a warm smile back to Cane, but the smile quickly faded as he turned to Aremos, his lips nervously pressed together as he anticipated the Emperor¡¯s wrath to unleash. Cane pondered what could have possibly caused the prince to be so late. ¡°Where have you been?¡± inquired Aremos. ¡°I was in my chambers, father.¡± ¡°Your chambers,¡± he muttered. ¡°At this hour?¡± Anthranor bowed his head submissively. ¡°Yes, father.¡± Aremos¡¯ fiery eyes glared into Anthranor¡¯s, a dark grimace on his face. ¡°Out, all of you,¡± he spat. ¡°Lord Cane, you as well.¡± At once, the councilors took their leave, bowing courteously before hastily clearing the room. Cane was the last one out as the Imperial knights closed the doors behind him. He could not help but smile a bit, turning to look at Ser Dorristan. ¡°Perhaps the council will be in recess until further notice.¡± Ser Dorristan returned a sly smile underneath his helmet¡¯s open visor, nodding. ¡°I suppose so, my Lord. Perhaps for a while. It may be best to retire and rest.¡± ¡°I agree,¡± Cane replied, glancing at the door as the Emperor¡¯s fury was heard from within. ¡°An old man needs his rest. I wish you a good day, Ser Dorristan.¡± ¡°To you as well, Lord Cane.¡± As Cane ventured through the palace halls, he took much time to bask himself in the warmth of the sunlight. It was a beautiful day after all, with clear skies and moderate temperatures¡ªa perfect balance struck between hot and cold. He sat on a bench in the gardens, soaking in the beauty that surrounded him. The colorful birds sang their happy songs, and the gorgeous flowers bloomed in all their splendor. Cane hoisted up his cane for a closer view, inspecting its finer details. It was made of polished black ironwood, with a silver knob for the handle. For seven years now, it had served him well. ¡°A new blade for you,¡± the Emperor had joked when he gifted it to Cane. ¡°May it serve you as well as your old one once did.¡± He smiled at the memory as he recalled it fleetingly. In the days afterwards, Alderin never ceased to jokingly ridicule Cane''s name with puns. The Emperor was always a fun and loving trickster at heart. Though he was hardened by the wars and the responsibilities of wearing the crown, he never lost his touch¡ªeven in his elder days. Cane had hoped Alderin¡¯s son, Aremos, would turn out similar to his father. But alas, they were two different men. The crown prince, however, did share common traits with his grandfather. Anthranor had inherited the same mischievous nature that Alderin possessed, and he was more moderate in his temper¡ªa stark contrast from his father. No doubt, his temperance was inherited from his mother as well, Cane mused. As the topic of Anthranor¡¯s mother crossed his mind, Cane once again found himself missing his daughter, Elena. He carefully eased the tip of his cane onto the ground, gazing reminiscently at a large peach tree that stood in the center of the garden. The tree had always been her favorite location for sitting and reading. Gone too soon, she was. Someone approached Cane from the corner of his eye. He turned and saw that it was the prince, undoubtedly fresh from his father¡¯s scathing lecture. Anthranor¡¯s face was flushed red, and his hair had been fixed, now neatly swept to the side. His eyes were fixed downwards, shoulders slightly slumped as his feet shuffled forward. ¡°Good afternoon, my prince,¡± Cane warmly greeted, putting on a genuine and friendly smile. ¡°I see your hair troubles have been tended to.¡± ¡°Yes, they have.¡± Anthranor sighed as he stood beside Cane, his eyes wandering the ground. Cane patted the empty space beside him. ¡°Come, have a seat, Anthranor.¡± The prince sat, twiddling his thumbs. ¡°I miss my mother,¡± he said bluntly. Cane looked over, shocked to see tears welling up in the eyes of the prince. ¡°I miss her warmth,¡± Anthranor continued, choking with emotion. ¡°Father is cold, and he is like a scorching flame that never relents.¡± Cane felt his heartstrings being tugged strongly. He immediately wrapped his arms around the young prince in a warm embrace, gently patting his shoulder to offer reassurance. ¡°We all miss her, Anthranor,¡± he said quietly. ¡°Your mother meant the world to me, as well.¡± Anthranor sniffled, pulling out a handkerchief to wipe his tears away. ¡°You see that tree there, Anthranor?¡± Cane asked, gesturing towards it. ¡°The giant peach tree, you mean?¡± The prince looked at it, his eyes swollen and wet. ¡°Yes, that one,¡± Cane reaffirmed, hugging the prince slightly more. ¡±Your mother would always read you stories under that tree, and I would watch from this very bench.¡± ¡°Really?¡± Anthranor seemed shocked. ¡°...I can barely remember at all.¡± Cane nodded. ¡°It was her favorite spot. Every day, whenever she had the chance, she would come there and read for hours.¡± He smiled, chuckling. ¡°She was so lost in her books that I would often have to come searching for her when she missed dinner. But I always knew where to find her.¡± The prince laughed along with his grandfather. ¡°Do you know how she came to find this tree?¡± Cane pointed to himself, smiling. ¡°Me, of course.¡± Anthranor returned the smile. ¡°Was it also your favorite spot for reading?¡± ¡°Indeed,¡± Cane replied. ¡°When your mother and her siblings were still young, I would read stories of old to them under that very tree.¡± ¡°So it has quite the history, that tree, doesn¡¯t it?¡± The prince took a moment to reflect on the tree¡¯s significance. ¡°Yes,¡± said Cane. ¡°In a way, your mother is still with us. Not just in our memories, but here as well.¡± He pointed to Anthranor¡¯s heart. ¡°She lives on through you, her son.¡± The prince looked at him, a solemn expression on his face. The tears had stopped, but there were still visible streaks that trailed down his cheeks. Cane gazed into the eyes of his grandson, a brilliant blue that sparkled like sapphires. ¡°Even now, I see her in your eyes. You carry the essence of both your mother and your father.¡± Anthranor sighed at the mention of his father. Taking notice, Cane gently placed his hands onto the prince¡¯s shoulders. ¡°Your father loves you, just as your mother did,¡± he said. Anthranor shifted his gaze to the side, looking down. ¡°If only it felt that way,¡± he muttered. ¡°He has been different ever since her passing.¡± ¡°He grieves, as do we all.¡± ¡°But that is no excuse to mistreat me, grandfather,¡± Anthranor retorted, looking at Cane. ¡°To shun me in front of the entire council?¡± His grandfather¡¯s expression softened with compassion and understanding. ¡°Anthranor, you must understand that as heir, you have many responsibilities and expectations,¡± he replied. ¡°Your father loves you with all of his heart, but in order to prepare you for the Crown, he must be strict, and you must be knowledgeable on what it means to lead.¡± ¡°What if I don¡¯t want to lead?¡± Anthranor asked, gazing at the ground as he kicked his feet. ¡°What if I fail, grandfather? ¡°It is inevitable that you will make mistakes, my prince,¡± Cane answered. ¡°That is why you must learn as much as you can now, and make your mistakes now, so that you may be better prepared in the future. Learn from your mistakes, and grow.¡± ¡°I understand your fear,¡± he continued. ¡°It is a fear we all have, the fear of the unknown. But in the face of necessity, we must step up to our responsibilities. If we do not, then who will?¡± Anthranor was silent, only nodding. Cane looked him in the eye. ¡°That is why it must be you,¡± he affirmed. ¡°Only you can step up to the responsibility of leading, for you are the heir. You must prepare yourself accordingly and take things seriously. Lastly, take your father¡¯s strictness with a grain of salt, and remember that he loves you. What he does now is for your sake in the future. Do you understand, Anthranor?¡± ¡°Yes, grandfather.¡± Cane smiled, embracing Anthranor once more. By the time he had pulled back, a guard appeared. The two of them turned to look at him. ¡°Your Highness, my lord,¡± he greeted, bowing. ¡°The Emperor has summoned both of you to his chambers, at once.¡± Anthranor rose from his seat, helping his grandfather stand from the bench. He turned to the guard. ¡°Do you know what he has called us for?¡± ¡°It is about a tournament, Your Highness,¡± the guard answered. ¡°It will be hosted by House Eins. His Grace wishes to discuss the matter of attendance.¡± ¡°We shall leave at once,¡± Cane declared, leading the way forward. Chapter 3 | Northern Resolve (OLD VERSION) Chapter 3 | Northern Resolve Baron Zerpentis Baron poked his half-roasted stick around the campfire, shifting the pieces of burning timber. The sky had grown dark and the Moon was absent, leaving an abyss that was dotted by thousands of glimmering stars of the night. Creatures of the forest croaked from all around them. They had been traveling south along the coast for several days now. For food and drink, they resorted to what was available from their surroundings, along with the supplies procured from the beach. Jon had managed to spear some large fish from a river, and Baron had forced the savage to show what plants and berries were edible. Of course, he had the tall brute taste each one first before them. He, for one, did not intend to be tricked and poisoned. He looked over the flames and observed the sleeping Timbarman, who sat tied to a tree. They had forced him to bathe in the river and given him new clothes that they had salvaged, which solved the issue of his foul stench. For that, Baron was eternally grateful to the Gods of the Sea. The first few days had been horrible with the smelly savage in tow. Jon sat to his side and looked over their remaining supplies. Baron nudged his elbow, still keeping a watchful eye on the Timbarman. ¡°Yes, my lord?¡± asked Jon. ¡°How much do we have, do you know?¡± ¡°We have a few more days worth of food, if we properly divide it,¡± answered Jon. He then lowered his voice, looking at Baron. ¡°But, my lord, I fear that the barbarian may be taking a toll on our supplies. Perhaps it is better we dispose of him.¡± Baron looked at him, nearly outraged. ¡°No, you idiot,¡± he said in a hushed voice. ¡°He is familiar with these lands. He has already proven his worth by showing us what is safe to eat. He can help us navigate these dreadful woods. So, why in the Gods of the Sea would I kill him?¡± Jon shrugged, closing the pouches that held their supplies. ¡°A little more food in the morning couldn¡¯t hurt.¡± ¡°You will deal with what you get, and that will be the end of it,¡± scowled Baron, who stood and towered over Jon. His subordinate looked up in fear. ¡°A poor joke, my lord," he panicked. "My apologies.¡± Baron grabbed Jon''s collar and lifted him up. His glared into Jon''s eyes. ¡°We are in a life or death situation, you monkey tickler. I do not have time for your silly games. Do you understand me?¡± ¡°Y-yes, my lord.¡± Baron saw the fear in Jon''s eyes and felt a little remorseful. He was right though, they could not afford to slack off in such dire times. He released the poor man and returned to his seat, contemplating the weight of his predicament. If they ran out of food, he would never get to return home. What would his legacy be, then? No matter what, they had to get back to Augustos. Baron had too much to lose. He was still young and had much potential yet to be unlocked. To die now would be an insult, an utter embarrassment for the family name. He would not even be able to receive a proper burial at sea, for no Zerpentian could possibly find his body this far north. Baron tightened his grip upon his sword¡¯s hilt, determined to survive. Perhaps a good night¡¯s rest would help better prepare him for tomorrow. ¡°Jon,¡± he called as he stood. ¡°Take the first watch, wake me after you believe an hour has passed.¡± ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord.¡± ¡°Here,¡± Baron offered his sword. ¡°Take this. Return it when I wake.¡± Jon took it, nodding. ¡°As you command, m¡¯lord. Have a good night.¡± ¡°You as well,¡± responded Baron. ¡°Remember to put out the flames.¡± ¡°As you command.¡± Satisfied, Baron settled under a large tree and closed his eyes. He found it hard to sleep at first, as his mind juggled many concerns and he felt something pressing into his lower back. He shifted ever so slightly, which moved him away from the nuisance and brought a better sense of comfort. As the thoughts subsided, he drifted into the night at last, his strength spent from the day¡¯s worries. The next morning Baron awoke, feeling as if a heavy weight were pressing on his eyes. He had taken three shifts the night before and left Jon with the last one. ¡°Good morning m¡¯lord,¡± Jon greeted. He leaned against one of the trees. Baron waved his hand and stood. ¡°Is there anything to report?¡± ¡°No, m¡¯lord. Quiet morning, it is.¡± Jon returned the ensign¡¯s sword. Suddenly, they heard rustling in the bushes. Both men drew their weapons and turned to where the sound had come from. Baron attempted to search for what had made the noise, examining the brushes closely. Jon scouted their sides for a possible ambush. The Timbarman was awake and fully alert, looking around. A squeal came from the bushes and out charged a ferocious tusked boar. ¡°Watch out!¡± Jon cried as he stepped away from Baron. Baron readied his sword and took a swing at the beast. He missed, however, and the boar brought him to the ground. Having lost the sword, Baron began wrestling with the animal. As the two flailed violently amidst the struggle, Jon ran forward and stabbed the back of the boar with his dagger. Squealing in pain, the enraged boar turned around and pummeled Jon to the ground. As Jon began to grapple with the beast, Baron rose and retrieved his sword. Rushing to them, he skewered its head. The boar gave a final cry before it went limp and fell over Jon. ¡°Get it off me!¡± Jon yelled, groaning in pain. Withdrawing his sword, Baron lifted the boar¡¯s body off of Jon before rendering assistance. ¡°Are you alright?¡± Baron asked. ¡°Yes, m¡¯lord, thank you.¡± ¡°Good,¡± said Baron, relieved. The two of them were exhausted and took heavy breaths as the rush that came with fighting wore off. They inspected their bodies for any fatal wounds, but found nothing more than bruises and small scratches. However, the pain still persisted. ¡°You fight like little girls,¡± said the Timbarman, cackling aloud. Baron and Jon turned to face him. ¡°Remind me how you ended up in those ropes, savage,¡± Baron retorted. He slowly approached the barbarian with his sword in hand. ¡°I went easy,¡± said the Timbarman, smiling cheekily at them as he chuckled. Baron struck him across the face, which only prompted the savage to laugh even more. ¡°Shut up,¡± snapped Baron, pressing his blade against the barbarian¡¯s throat. ¡°Unless you wish to lose your manhood, then you will remain silent unless spoken to.¡± The threat reduced the Timbarman to silence. Satisfied, Baron sheathed his sword and returned to Jon. He inspected the corpse of the boar and smiled. It seemed that they had found their breakfast for the day. After the boar was roasted, they feasted upon its succulent flesh and washed it down with their waterskins. The leftovers were given to the Timbarman for consumption, which proved adequate enough to satisfy his hunger. ¡°Delicious, that was, m¡¯lord,¡± Jon said gleefully, his belly full. Baron nodded in agreement, still picking out bits of meat from between his teeth. ¡°We shall rest here for a while and resume the journey afterward. Our stomachs will need it.¡± ¡°Agreed, m¡¯lord.¡± Baron sat down on a nearby rock, pondering what events could be transpiring elsewhere in the world. Zoren The bells of Kelin¡¯s Point rang, each toll reverberating through the narrow streets with a hallowed echo. The bell towers, once simple aspects of daily life, had become heralds of death and destruction. ¡°Zoren, where are we going?¡± asked Zariah, Zoren¡¯s sister. Her face was stricken with doubt and fear. ¡°To the gates,¡± he answered, though he questioned whether they would make it. This text was taken from Royal Road. Help the author by reading the original version there. The sky was painted a hellish orange as entire buildings were engulfed by flames. Thick smoke blackened the night sky, leaving only a smothered Moon to oversee the devastation. Zoren ran as fast his legs could go, with his sister in tow. People were screaming from all around. He could hear the clash of steel as men butchered each other in the streets. A pair of city guards in leather armor approached Zoren and his sister. The fire that raged from behind cast the guards as ominous shadows. ¡°You, boy!¡± called out one of the guards. He drew his sword and pointed it at them. ¡°Stop right there.¡± Zoren was struck with fear and immediately halted. He knew if they tried to flee the other way, the guards would quickly run them down. He ushered his sister behind him. The guards came closer for a better look. One was tall and the other considerably shorter. The tall guard¡¯s face was ugly and scarred, while the short one had a crooked nose and a bushy mustache. The ugly guard loomed over Zoren and inspected his face closely. Without warning, he grabbed Zoren¡¯s wrist and twisted, revealing the ¡°S'''' that had been branded into his forearm. ¡°Slave,¡± he uttered, a hint of disgust in his voice. ¡°Kill them both.¡± He released Zoren and took a step back before thrusting his sword to stab the boy. Before he could follow through, an arrow pierced the back of his nape. He cried out in pain as he fell aside and dropped the blade. The other guard turned to face the unknown attacker, his spear poised. Seizing the opportunity, Zoren took up the tall guard¡¯s fallen sword in a heartbeat and thrust it into the short guard¡¯s back. He shouted in agony, dropping his spear. Zoren quickly withdrew the sword and kicked his body to the ground. The archer who had shot the tall guard knelt down and recovered the arrow from the guard¡¯s body. Zoren had guessed the archer was friendly, but remained cautious. Shielding his sister, he kept the sword poised for combat. The archer seemed unphased. He stood and examined the two siblings. Zoren tightened his grip on the sword¡¯s hilt. He felt his entire body tremble in fear, but he knew he had to remain strong for Zariah¡¯s sake. After a tense moment of silence, the archer rolled up his sleeve and showed his forearm. ¡°No need to be pissing yourself, friend,¡± he said, grinning. Zoren lowered his guard upon seeing the ¡°S¡± that branded the archer, sighing in relief. ¡°Who are you?¡± he asked. ¡°Jorbin,¡± replied the archer. ¡°A friend.¡± Horace Corent Horace rolled up the piece of paper and sent the last messenger hawk on its way home. He had just received two messages at once: one from the Crown and the other from Kelin¡¯s Point. ¡°Ser Morris,¡± he called his captain of the guard to the balcony. Ser Morris approached and bowed before Horace. ¡°My lord, I am yours to command.¡± Horace turned, stuffing the second message in his coat¡¯s pocket. ¡°Call my banners,¡± he ordered. ¡°Instruct them to muster at Ausemere Castle. Summon Lord Avonta¡¯s forces as well. We shall assemble the council in the war room for further discussion.¡± ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Horace went to his bedside to retrieve his sword before departing the room with Ser Morris in tow. Leo Avonta It was a beautiful day outside. Leo lay in the tall grass, his gaze lost in the clusters of puffy clouds that drifted lazily across the blue sky. A gentle breeze brought forth a refreshing wave of cool air, brushing softly across his face. The day had gotten off to a poor start. Dawn and Rex had both woken up incredibly early in the morning and were in horrible moods. Their incessant crying had forced his wife and her maids to constantly minister to their infants for over an hour. Unable to sleep amidst the chaos, Leo had opted to ride out with Commander Kevan to the hills for a brief retreat. Fortunately, he had been able to procure some semblance of peace. So much so, that he had lost track of time. Leo was keenly aware he had to return eventually, but found it incredibly tempting not to do so, for the tranquility he had discovered was far too wonderful to abandon. Alas, he knew his wife would need him back as soon as possible. Thank the Creator for Promise, he thought. Leo was certain that the household would collapse without the resilient fortitude of his ironclad wife. Their twins were certainly a menacing force to be reckoned with. Siring children was not his forte. Leo had a keen preference for brawling and adventuring, pursuits that seemed to align more closely with his skillset. Regardless of his preference in interests, however, it was his responsibility to raise a proper heir and be present for his children, a duty his wife constantly reminded him of. At least, when the twins were older, all of their hard work would pay off. They would be rewarded with two brilliant children, the successors to House Avonta. Leo smiled as he fantasized of embarking on ambitious quests with the twins when they became of age. The stories that were to be told for generations would be legendary. The tremors in the ground from a horse¡¯s approaching hoofbeats brought Leo back to reality. He stood and searched for the incoming rider, alerting Kevan. Though there was no rider visible at first, one eventually appeared over a nearby hill that carried the banner of House Avonta. He rode with haste towards Leo. Relieved the rider was one of his men, Leo eased his guard and waved him over. ¡°Hello, Boren,¡± Leo greeted, smiling. ¡°What news do you bring?¡± ¡°Urgent message from Lord Corent, m¡¯lord,¡± answered Boren. ¡°Lady Promise has requested you return at once.¡± Leo sighed, nodding. He knew his duty was now calling. ¡°Commander Kevan, fetch my horse. We ride immediately.¡± The three men rode with great speed back to Hedgehall, the seat of House Avonta. Upon his return, Leo called for an emergency convention in the council chambers. All those summoned arrived promptly. ¡°I thank all of you for having arrived on such short notice,¡± said Leo, taking his seat. The councilors sat down as well. ¡°I have called the banners to war,¡± he continued. ¡°I will be leading them personally.¡± ¡°War?¡± ¡°Yes.¡± Leo unfurled a map and rolled it across the table. His finger traced a path far to the northeast of Hedgehall, stopping on a city located on a small peninsula next to a bay. ¡°Kelin¡¯s Point is in open rebellion,¡± he explained. ¡°Tens of thousands of Timbarmen captives have risen up and overtaken the city. The City Guard and the household guards of House Argentum have been completely overrun. Their surviving remnants are now holed up inside Lord Argentum¡¯s castle.¡± ¡°So the city has been lost to slaves, my lord?¡± asked Exavion, an advisor who specialized in military strategy. ¡°Yes, the slaves have taken the city,¡± Leo responded bitterly. He was disgusted with having to use the word. Earlier in his reign, he had pushed for the total abolition of slavery within House Avonta¡¯s lands, but his plea had been denied by Lord Horace Corent, his liege lord. Worse yet, members within his own council were still avid supporters of laws that permitted Timbarmen to be enslaved. Out of spite for slaveholders, upon his ascension as lord, he had ordered all slaves under his household to be freed and given employment. The decision was seen as controversial by some of his councilors and other northern houses, but Leo refused to retract his decision. The prospect of now having to violently suppress a rebellion waged by captive Timbarmen infuriated him. All they sought was freedom, something he would have freely given without hesitation. But to refuse his liege lord¡¯s direct command was to court death. He could not afford to jeopardize the livelihoods of himself and his family. Leo had little choice but to obey. At the very least, by personally leading his army, he could better avoid unnecessary bloodshed and prevent his soldiers from committing atrocities against the innocent. ¡°I will lead the bannermen to Ausemere Castle,¡± he continued, now explaining the general plan. ¡°After meeting with Lord Corent¡¯s army, we will then march on Kelin¡¯s Point and crush the rebellion. When that is over, we shall return home. Any questions?¡± Commander Kevan raised his hand. ¡°Go on.¡± ¡°My lord, who will be left in charge of the realm in your absence?¡± asked Kevan. Leo turned to his wife, who sat beside him. ¡°Lady Promise, of course. Kevan, you will remain here as well to command the garrison.¡± ¡°Yes, my lord.¡± Leo nodded and rose from his seat, prompting the others to do the same. ¡°Then this council is adjourned,¡± he concluded. ¡°Return to your duties.¡± The councilors bowed and departed the room, leaving Leo and his wife alone. He waited until the doors were shut before he spoke. ¡°Lord Horace insults me with the command that he has given me,¡± he said, a distinct bitterness clear in his voice. His eyes reflected a sad reluctance as he turned to her. ¡°But I have no choice but to obey.¡± Promise approached, taking Leo¡¯s hands into her own and gently squeezing them for reassurance. He looked down and met her eyes¡ªbeautiful and rich brown, sparkling with a captivating light. He remembered exactly why he had married her. ¡°There will come a time when you can finally put an end to these horrors,¡± she said softly. ¡°But as of now, the odds are stacked against you.¡± ¡°I know,¡± replied Leo, his voice quiet. ¡°In the meantime, I must play the part of a loyal vassal.¡± ¡°One step at a time, Leo.¡± Leo nodded. ¡°One step at a time.¡± ¡°Now,¡± he said with a smirk, ¡°will you be able to handle the twins all by your lonesome?¡± Promise returned a sly smile and crossed her arms. ¡°As if I haven¡¯t been doing so already,¡± she quipped. ¡°Without your legions of housemaids, of course.¡± She rolled her eyes in response. ¡°Oh, spare me. Most of them run around like headless chickens anyway.¡± Leo laughed. ¡°Right.¡± ¡°Promise me something, as well, Leo,¡± she said, her tone growing serious. She looked him in the eye. ¡°Promise me you will return, alive and well.¡± Leo gave her a solemn look. Placing his hand under her chin, he leaned in and kissed her softly on the lips. ¡°I promise.¡± They held each other¡¯s hands. ¡°I will pray every night for your safe return,¡± she said, smiling. Leo nodded, returning the smile. ¡°I shall pray for your safety as well,¡± he replied. After the couple had bid each other farewell at the castle¡¯s gates, Leo departed with an escort of twenty guards to rally his bannermen.