《A World Devoid of Black and White: A Grey Boy》


 Orewell I

    It was another snowy day up north in the town of Bredost. It covered the roofs and the pavements, the snow made life for the townsfolk harder than it is.


    Yet, Orewell, the bastard son of Lord Felkin Ays of House Ays, doesn''t seem bothered by the snow at all. In fact, he was delighted by it. The snow felt cold and wet to the touch, but it felt nice. The snow is his home after all.


    His black hair, dark like the night felt heavy under the cold and his sapphire blue eyes pierce through snow. Everyone who saw his eyes will feel a cold shiver through their spines, a cold that not even the snowy climate of the North can ever bring.


    It was a busy day in Bredost, the merchants yelling and cursing as they organized their packs and wagons, guards walking through the town to ensure the safety of the folk, the sounds of hammers clashing through anvils as blacksmiths made blades and tools to sell. And Orewell was walking through all of it. Despite being the son of Lord Felkin, Orewell wasn''t allowed into the castle if his father was absent and he was to live like a commoner under the command of Lady Catherine Shard-Ays, the wife of Lord Felkin.


    Catherine had never been fond of Orewell because he was a bastard, she does not mind if Felkin can not hold his urges and must relieve himself with another woman during one of his campaigns, but she does not want his bastard in her own home.


    As Orewell walked around town, he felt a tiny sensation wrap around his waist. He looked behind him and saw a small girl with dark brown hair flowing down until below her shoulders, it was his younger half-sister, Amelie. She was the second youngest child of Lord Felkin and Lady Catherine. She was always fond of her half-brother, because unlike her oldest brother, Glen, who was always busy learning the ways of ruling, or her older sister, Mayne, who was busy being a "proper" lady, and their youngest brother, Pin, is still a baby who can''t even play with her. Orewell always had time to play and pay attention to her.


    "A young lady like you shouldn''t be here in town, you''ll ruin your dress." Orewell teasingly said to Amelie as he wrapped her tiny body in his arms, she feels soft and light to the touch like a doll.


    "No one plays with me in the castle!" Amelie exclaimed while she wrapped her arms around her half-brother''s body. "It''s all ruling this, ruling that! It''s boring" She added.


    "Your siblings are the children of Lord Felkin, of course they will have to learn ruling." He replied in a somewhat bitter tone.


    "You''re father''s son too! You''re my sibling!" She exclaimed with all the wisdom a seven year old girl can muster.


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    As Amelie finished her reply, Orewell never found the words to respond to her young half-sister. She was too innocent and she most probably wouldn''t understand if he tried to explain his circumstances about being Lord Felkin''s bastard son.


    "I might be, Amelie. But--"


    Amelie cut off his words by putting her tiny hands on her half-brother''s mouth. She got off of his arms and fell down on the muddy road on her feet. Her shoes and dress are now a muddy mess.


    "It''s because of Mother, isn''t it?!" She asked while she crossed her arms and a pout on her face.


    Amelie read her fourteen year-old half brother like an open book and he didn''t even have to say anything. Out of Orewell''s three half-siblings, Amelie is the one that always understood him. He has a fairly neutral relationship with Glen and Mayne, and a not so good relationship with Lady Catherine.


    "Look...little sister..." He paused and crouched to meet her at eye level. "Yes, you''re right. It''s because of Lady Catherine." He admitted with a melancholic tone in his voice. He truly tried to get along with her, but it seems like his existence alone is enough to make Lady Catherine''s stomach revolt.


    He sighed softly, thinking of another way to change the topic.


    "King Illain will come here up North to meet with Father, correct?" He asked. "I also heard that the queen, Queen Clira, will come here along with their three children." He added.


    Orewell spent most of his time in the Hillpeak Tavern, the only tavern in Bredost, working as a waiter and cleaner. During work, he hears rumors from drunks, and tales from the bards and poets.


    Amelie nodded.


    "Yes, they will come here. I think they''re coming tod--"


    Before Amelie can even finish her words, the trumpets of the soldiers on the ramparts of the town wall blared. Banners of House Ays laid on the trumpets, two swords crossed on a block of ice with a white background meanwhile the ice is a shade of sky blue.


    The trumpets were deafening, but it only means one thing. The king is here, no doubt. And soon, the gates of the town opened, and inside came a party of approximately a hundred men all mounted in horses. The men in the front wore shiny and lustrous armor that reflected the sunlight even in the cold. More men passed, and in the middle of the formation came a wagon.


    As all the men had entered town, they all stopped and the wagon did as well. From the wagon came a middle-aged man with porcelain white hair and ash gray beard with patches of black in it. He stood tall in his armor and cape, uncaring about the mud on the pavements. Orewell looked up at the man and saw his crown, and he deduced that there''s no doubt, it was their uncle, at least for Glen, Mayne, Amelie and Pin. King Illain.


    Now that Orewell noticed it, the men in front of the wagon bore the banner of House Poynt, a black cross at the very center of the banner, contrasted by a yellow background.


    Felkin and Illain were close brothers, bonded even closer when Illain had started his rebellion against Kluster Angr. This visit is not surprising for the folk of Bredost as they knew too well the closeness of both House Ays and House Poynt were.


    After Illain got off the wagon, a beautiful woman with hair as brown as dark oak followed. Orewell saw her eyes, and it was a beautiful amber yellow, it was mesmerizing just like gazing at amber or topaz. Her mannerisms were sophisticated, taking small steps in her walk outside of the wagon and behind her husband. She had a captivating and warm smile on her face, as if it can melt all the snow away from the entirety of the North.

 Larene I

    Larene was not fond of their shaggy wagon, which was supposedly a disguise in order to protect themselves from muggers and rapers on the road. It stunk like horse shit, made much worse during rain.


    She was excited to go North again because she will meet her Uncle Felkin and Aunt Catherine, she was also excited to meet her cousins Glen, Mayne, Amelie and Pin. She was getting bored of playing with her siblings everyday, and it was also hot in their city of Solsari.


    The journey from Solsari to Bredost usually takes about eight days, but because of the detour her father had arranged, it took a fortnight. Fourteen full days in a stinking wagon, having to bathe in springs along with other people, and bumpy roads everywhere to the point that it almost made her nauseous and hurt her rear, it was the worst thing a sixteen year old girl like her can ever think of.


    After the fourteenth day of the journey, she felt the wagon stop again and she expected another one of those times where they stop to eat. But then she heard it. Loud blaring of trumpets enough to wake up even someone in a deep slumber.


    Larene heard a gate being opened, and the wagon moved again, slower this time then another stop. This time though, the wagon curtain was opened by a soldier and her father got out, then her mother, surely enough, it was her turn next. With a gulp, she took small steps to get out of the wagon and as she left, her feet were greeted by a wet and cold sensation.


    "Snow?", she thought to herself.


    It didn''t take her long to figure out that they had reached their destination, the city of Bredost.


    She looked around and familiarized herself with the new landscape she is presented with. This town is nothing compared to her hometown of Solsari, the houses here are made of cobblestone or wood, the folk aren''t wearing pretty silks instead wearing furs from dead wolves and bears, some wore boiled leather. As she absorbed her surroundings some more, something had caught her attention. In front of the crowd of people that came to greet and pay respects to the Royal Family, there was someone that didn''t even care, or even know who she was. She looked at the young lad, his dark black hair was long like a girl''s, but something about it was alluring.


    Suddenly, a small sensation wrapped around her waist.


    "Cousin Larene!", the small voice greeted. It didn''t take long for Larene to realize that it was her cousin Amelie hugging her. With a soft sigh, she hugged back and pat her head.


    "Good day to you, cousin.", she said with a warm smile.


    Larene suddenly saw the same young lad with black hair run towards Amelie and gently tugged her away.


    "Amelie! You shouldn''t hug strangers!", the young lad said in a scolding voice.


    Larene was caught off-guard. Stranger? Surely he must jest, she''s the eldest daughter of King Illain and Queen Clira! How does this...boy not know her?!


    The young lad continued to scold Amelie as if he was her father, but Larene knew he was too young to be one. As she watched the scolding go on, she caught a glimpse of the young lad''s eyes. It was a deep sapphire-blue, just like the depths of the ocean, seductive yet mysterious. In contrast to Amelie, the young lad only wore simple fur clothes and yet he''s talking to Amelie as if they were on equal footing.


    She just had to interfere, and interfere she did, tugging the young lad''s right arm.


    "Govern your tongue, peasant", she said coldly.


    And the young lad glared at the princess, his deep blue eyes contrasted with her bright amber yellow eyes.


    "And who could you be, brat?", the young lad asked.


    Larene gasped. This peasant just called her a brat!


    But before she can say another word, an arm held the young lad''s shoulder.


    "I see you met my daughter, Orewell", the voice said. It was deep and stern. And she knew who the voice is. It''s her dear father, the King.


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    She saw the young lad look up at her father.


    "Uncle", the young lad greeted and shook her father''s hand, and her father shook his hand as well.


    The young lad called her father...uncle? Now that she thought of it, she also heard him call the young lad nephew. She was sure that her cousins are only Glen, Mayne, Amelie and Pin, she did not know him at all.


    "Who is he, father?", she asked her father, wanting to get a clarification of what''s happening. Instead of immediately responding, her father chuckled.


    "Your uncle Felkin''s son, Orewell", her father answered.


    She nodded and looked at the young lad. He does look like her uncle Felkin, but there were no traces from her aunt Catherine either. He doesn''t have the dark brown hair or jade green eyes that her aunt Catherine has. His clothes are not befitting of a royal or a noble, it was shaggy and tattered like a peasant''s...or a slave''s, even.


    But one other detail caught her attention. The sword on his waist. The pummel has a small blue gem on it that reflected even the dim sun of the North. Her curiosity is piqued, she always read about how House Ays found a way to refine and purify ice to the point that they integrated with their tools. The refined ice was called "Frostbite" in commoner tongue, but called "Punisher''s Steel" by the church due to the ore being used by the church to punish those accused and proved of heresy. The ice is refined and melted so it can still retain it''s temperature despite being liquid, then, blades are then dipped in Frostbite and it freezes and hardens when it came into contact with steel, thus creating a weapon that burns when it makes contact with flesh. Her eyes were wide and she looked all giddy as she stared at the sword with amazement.


    She saw the young lad give her weird glances, after all, it was not everyday that someone was curious about a sword.


    He raised his eyebrow.


    "Do you...", his question was cut off when she nodded wildly, her amber eyes gleaming with delight. She heard him mutter, "Such a child", but he still unsheathed his sword nonetheless. It was a longsword, the sharp blade is three feet and the handle is a foot long so it can be gripped by both hands. The blade gleamed because of the Frostbite that coated the steel, resulting with a sword that has a silver-blue color hue.


    Larene''s eyes widened in amazement at the sight. It was her first time to ever see a weapon coated with Frostbite, and it was as amazing as described in the books that she read. Her curiosity got the better of her and she slowly stuck the index finger of her right hand and it slowly approached the edge of the sword when the young lad flicked her hand away.


    "You''ll burn your hand, idiot", he told her with a stern and annoyed tone.


    Her face blushed and bowed her head. "Sorry", is the only word she managed to mutter out.


    As they stood there, King Illain approached them once more.


    "Larene, come. We''re meeting your uncle", Illain told her in a stern tone.


    Her father''s stern tone didn''t give her much time to respond and she only managed to nod. She stood away from the young lad and followed behind her parents and siblings that had already got down from the wagon.


    King Illain, Queen Clira, Princess Larene, and her younger brother and sister, Prince Tomm and Princess Vina followed as they all made their way to the castle of further in the town of Bredost.


    The royal family went to the castle while being escorted by a small company of soldiers, all serving as guards to the king. They were affectionately referred to by the folk as the Kingshield for they were never named as such by the king, they simply were just his personal guards in the castle, and his best troops during campaigns.


    Larene decided to break the silent walk. She coughed softly to get her father''s attention.


    "Father", she called out.


    Illaine stopped to turn around to his daughter. He didn''t say anything, but his gaze was enough to communicate that she got his attention.


    Larene cleared her throat and took a deep breath before speaking.


    "The young boy with the sword, who was he, father? He certainly looks like uncle Felkin but I have never seen him once before", she asked with curiosity.


    Illain sighed softly.


    "Your cousin. Didn''t I tell you before?" His tone sounded angry. For some reason, he''s keeping her cousin''s identity from her.


    "I know, father. But who is he?", she pressed on.


    Illain is the only outsider that knows of Orewell being Felkin''s bastard. It was one night during the waning years of Illain''s rebellion, Illain saw Felkin making love with a girl, he was surprisingly intimate and affectionate towards her. It was something he hasn''t shown, not even towards Catherine, his own wife. Illain thought it''s just him falling out of love with his wife because she has certainly been a bitch to him. But as he looked at the woman''s features, the amethyst purple eyes, the shiny gold hair. There''s no doubt about it, Felkin is sleeping with the King, Klustr Angr''s daughter, Lilac. From her physique, Illain had surmised that she''s sixteen or so. The day after Illain saw Felkin sleeping with their enemy''s daughter, Felkin had pleaded for him to be silent about this. They both knew that Catherine will not take this lightly, not because her husband is an infidel, but because she''ll be insulted that a sixteen-year old girl had managed to seduce her dear husband, Illain already feels sick just imagining how Felkin deals with Catherine and it''ll just make him more so if he ever has to deal with that kind of jealousy.


    He sighed deeply and pat his daughter on the head.


    "Once everyone''s full and drunk in the drinking halls, come to me and we''ll talk about it later", He said with a soft smile on his face.


    Larene has something else to look forward here in Bredost.

 Orewell II

    It is a loud night in Icevale, the largest and only drinking hall in Bredost which can house more or less three hundred drinkers in one night. Icevale was once an infirmary for the elite soldiers of House Ays, referred to by the folk as Ice of the North due to their coldness and ruthlessness towards their enemies. However, after Illain''s rebellion, the infirmary has been repurposed as a drinking hall for all the folk to enjoy...during certain occasions, that is. Icevale only opens under Lord Felkin''s word, be it celebration of a victory in war or during celebration of his or his family''s birth.


    The drinking hall is filled with songs from the maidens, tales from bards and laughter among the soldiers of House Ays and House Poynt, the establishment lit with torches that stuck on the wooden pillars.


    As the feast continued, Orewell enjoyed his own company on the porch of the drinking hall, enjoying the amazing sight of Bredost at night, the light of houses peering through the windows. His plate is filled with smoked sausage and sugarbread, his bowl filled with savory soup created with chicken broth and seasonings that only the cooks know because the flavors had blended in too well and Orewell can''t pick apart the ingredients with his tongue.


    Orewell ate slowly, savoring the flavor, more flavors were released the more he chewed. Despite the meal being good, the best part is yet to come. He picked up his mug that sat on the ledge of the fence in the porch, that is filled with honeybeer as Orewell calls it. It''s simply just a blend that he thought of, by mixing honey and beer thus the name, it resulted in a sweet drink with a good kick, a drink that someone can''t get enough of. He''s about to take a sip from it when he saw the young woman that he met at the castle gates this morning. She hasn''t spoken a word yet, but it was enough to send Orewell into a deep sigh. His eyes looked irritated, as if she ruined his drink.


    His eyes were furrowed as he looked at her. "What the hell do you want?", he asked grumpily.


    The young woman was taken aback by Orewell''s rudeness, made more obvious by her gasp.


    "I''ll have you know that I, Larene Poynt, is the eldest daughter of the King! I deserve equal respect as he does!", she proclaimed proudly.


    Orewell just scoffed at her proclamation.


    "Having to remind someone you''re a princess makes you look less like it", he argued. "You''re only a girl with a title and privilege. But get faced by the sharpness of a sword or arrow and you die like commonfolk do", he added with a slightly bitter tone.


    Larene had a cold glare in her eyes that completely contrasted the warm, amber yellow color of it.


    "Did I strike a nerve...", she paused.


    Her eyes became colder, on par with the cold of the North itself.


    "Grey?"


    Her words pierced through Orewell''s usually uncaring attitude, evident by him glaring angrily at her and the way he gripped his sword eminates bloodlust as if a single provocation from her will make him snap. The alcohol isn''t helping his case either. He only had a single mug of his honeybeer, but he''s already getting tipsy.


    However, he was flabbergasted at the name she called him. "Grey" isn''t an actual last name. It''s more like a title for bastards in Divios, in his case, he''s a bastard in the North. Bastards in the country are labelled by colors from the region they reside in; Grey, just like the mountains of the North; Green, just like green fields of the South; Blue, just like the blue oceans of the East; Gold, just like the gold coins of the West; and White of the Center. Whites are special cases in Bredost because the bastards birthed in the center of the country have been recognized by King Illain, in contrast to the bastards of the four cardinal directions of the country; which is recognized only by the lords of the Houses.


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    Orewell just managed to release a small scoff of disbelief.


    " Who are you?", he asked.


    Larene smirked.


    "A girl with privilege", she replied smugly.


    With tankard in hand, he offered it to her. "Here", he reached out to her, holding his mug of honeybeer.


    "I don''t drink commoner beverages", she replied arrogantly.


    "You''re in a drinking hall filled with men that probably fuck goats, you''re nothing special. Now have a drink or leave", he replied with mocking tone, still holding out the mug.


    Larene scoffed in disbelief at her cousin''s crude tongue. "Unbelievable", she muttered and took the mug from him.


    She took a sip of honeybeer, and the sweetness of it filled her taste buds. It has a certain sweetness to it, different from the sweetness of wine.


    "This is good, cousin", she complimented.


    It struck Orewell weirdly. This girl...called him cousin?  She probably is his cousin, but Orewell doesn''t recognize Larene as one. He also does not know much about her, well, he never bothered to care anyway. In his eyes, she''s simply just a girl, nothing more, nothing less.


    His father and half-siblings are the only family he recognizes, anyone beyond them are just strangers to him.


    As Orewell continued eating his sausage and bread, he suddenly felt a hand grip his shoulders tightly and he reacted by trying to flick it away but the grip was too strong.


    He looked up from his food and saw Larene all red in the face, her eyes barely awake. "Fuck", he cursed softly. "I guess she can''t handle honeybeer...", he thought.


    "Larene", he called out to no avail. She''s just incoherently mumbling things and flailing her arms around in a way to maintain her balance. She tumbled around and tripped, but Orewell caught her every time. And suddenly, her incoherent mumblings became louder to the point that it''s almost a yell. Orewell''s holding her by her arms with one arm and her waist with the other as he tries to guide her but it''s all in vain. Her drunkness made her pretty strong and sturdy, allowing her to drag Orewell by her weight.


    As he continued holding on to her, he found himself being dragged into the front door of the drinking hall. And all the drinkers, those who are still awake and sober anyway, looked at the both of them. Larene''s bright red face due to drunkness is visible for all of them to see, but what caught Orewell''s attention is the people at the stage of the hall. The families of Felkin and Illain are staring at the both of them intently, Queen Clira and Lady Catherine look disappointed at how drunk Larene looks and in the other hand, Felkin and Illain are softly laughing at her drunken antics.


    "Tshuiishhh biiirrrrr shhhooo guuuudddd....!!!", Larene incoherently mumbled while holding the empty mug of honeybeer.


    Orewell sighed heavily in annoyance. Just holding her feels really humiliating for him. Suddenly, he felt two hands cup his cheeks, and the next thing he knew is Larene''s lips were pressed on his. He felt some of the foam from the honeybeer that she drank and the sweetness of it filled his tongue. It took him a while to snap back to his senses and he pushed her away.


    He just looked at her blankly, unfazed by her sudden kiss. However, what made him slightly angry is the goofy satisfied look on Larene''s face as if she just did something good.


    Queen Clira and Lady Catherine gasped at the fact that Larene kissed Orewell meanwhile Lord Felkin and King Illain were silent at first but then thet just burst out laughing, and the other drinkers soon followed; some of them are even whooping, cheering and clapping, much to Orewell''s confusion.


    The two women sitting beside their husbands decided to pull away Larene before she humiliates herself even further, and for a quick moment, Orewell saw Lady Catherine glare at him coldly before she and Queen Clira took Larene to her quarters in the castle.


    After that debacled was solved, Orewell was pat by one of the drinkers.


    "Boy! How does it feel to be kissed by the princess?", he asked and followed with a hearty laugh, and the man''s friends also laughed.


    Orewell shook his head, trying to wrap his head around to a conclusion.


    "It was nice...I guess.", he answered softly as he touched his lips with his fingers, trying to remember the sensation of the kiss.


    "It''s...soft.", he added. And the men of the drinking hall erupted into a wilder cheer as they all chanted "boy" or "bastard".

 Dred I

    One morning, Dred sat in a round table made of mahogany along with other men and women of the Sord council. Lords from minor houses under the banner of House Sord are gathered in a meeting, discussing what to do during the King''s absence.


    "The king left the capital", a middle aged man said with a raspy tone.


    "So it seems", a young woman of more or less twenty, replied, her voice deep and regal.


    "This proves a great chance for us to take the throne, Lord Vant", another man replied, his voice sounding confident. "The capital is only guarded by Lord Mippen of House Slint, a minor house in the capital. He can be easily swayed, my lord."


    The other men and women in the council were silent, but they were nodding in agreement with the confident man''s suggestion.


    House Sord had always eyed the throne. They believed that they deserve the throne after their contributions to Illain''s rebellion against House Angr a decade ago. It was their house that donated troops and weapons needed to besiege the former capital of House Angr, Stalsrod. It was also them that executed many of the coalition''s enemies, which are mostly Klustr''s heirs and generals.


    Vant, wearing a black crown stood from his seat and raised an arm, causing the murmuring and chatter in the council room to stop.


    "An invasion will not happen", Vant said coldly.


    His words sent shock into the members of his council in the room.


    "But my lord--!", an old man exclaimed.


    Vant only flicked his finger and Dred understood what he meant.


    Dred stood up from his seat and cut the old man''s head clean off, and his body fell, spilling blood on the floor. He wiped his sword with the dead old man''s clothes and sheathed his blade.


    "Thank you, brother", Vant thanked Dred for his clean execution.


    The council is left silent as one of their members just got executed on the spot.


    Vant cleared his throat, catching the council''s attention. "As I was saying before the...unfortunately dead one cut me off...", he paused. "No invasion will happen.", he repeated.


    Everyone in the council is very confused by the lord''s statement. The king is away from his capital city, this is the perfect chance for an invasion! Not to mention the fact that they have the troops and siege weapons to do so. They wanted to give Vant a piece of their mind, but they fear facing Dred''s blade.


    "Tine", Vant called and a woman with voluptuous physique appeared from the crowd beside the council table, all eyes are on her as her breast and bosom jiggled as she walked.


    "My lord?", Tine asked with a sultry look on her face.


    Dred sighed in annoyance as he already knows what''s going to happen next.


    "Dred", Vant called.


    "Yes, brother?", Dred asked.


    "I''m sending Tine to the royal capital, Solsari.", he paused.


    Before Vant can continue. Dred had predicted what his older brother''s order would be.


    "I''m to act as guard to her during our journey and while she..."persuades" the lord in charge of Solsari, yes?", he continued.


    Vant said nothing and nodded instead. He plans to use Tine''s womanly charms to seduce the lord stationed in Solsari in the King''s stead. If not to rebel, then Vant at least intends for Lord Mippen to defect towards him and provide him easy passage to Solsari. The commonfolk are increasingly getting dissatisfied with King Illain''s rule due to the high taxation rates, the constant crime in the city, it''s all getting out of hand.


    "The local lord in Solsari, Mippen, is known to be a patron of the brothels in the city", Vant told to the council then looked at Tine, raising her chin to meet her almond brown eyes. "And you, my dear", he paused to kiss Tine in a lustful manner, coiling his tongue around hers and the council just sat there and watched. "You''re going to make all of this work.", he whispered to her as he pulled away from the kiss.


    "Your manners are befitting of a brothel patron, brother", Dred said sternly and tugged Tine away from his brother. "Is that all? If so, I''ll prepare for our journey", he added.


    "That''s not all, dear brother.", Vant replied. He then pulled out a banner of House Sord, a gold skull impaled vertically by a gold sword with a green background. "Divios shall know who the true king is", Vant said "true" with heavy and intense emphasis on the word.


    Dred took the banner from his brother and left the council room and went on to prepare for the upcomong journey.


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    An hour of preparation later, Dred and Tine are in the gates  of Banem, the seat of House Sord. The city is located in the eastern regions of Divios. It lies near the borders of the center and eastern regions. The ride from Banem to Solsari is a relatively quick one as the road that connects the two cities is a trading route, thus the road is maintained pretty well.


    Dred sat on the saddle of his horse, his medium length dirt brown hair flowing with the wind and beside him rode Tine, the "important" asset that his older brother, Vant ordered him to guard.


    Surprisingly, the ride was quiet without any complaint from Tine. She never tried making small talk either, she''s just riding beside Dred silently like a toddler that has been forbidden from eating cookies.


    The ride was smooth without rapers and thieves in sight, the weather and terrain are in their favor as well. And just as the night was about to come, the two eventually arrived at the eastern gates of Solsari.


    "We''re here", Dred muttered softly to catch Tine''s attention. "The sooner you fuck that Mippen person, the quicker we leave.", he added.


    "Yes, yes, I know.", Tine replied reluctantly.


    They both reached the gates of the city and they were greeted by the guards that allowed them to pass.


    "Do you think that man will fold his banner because of a woman''s touch?", she asked curiously.


    "That Mippen is no man. He''s simply a moron that was pushed into power...", he paused. "He''ll probably betray his kin if given the chance to.", he continued.


    Tine was left silent by Dred''s reasoning. She doesn''t understand why but she can pick up the fact that his tone sounded bitter, no, spiteful.


    Soon, the sky went dark and it''s finally night time, a time for brothels to open to its patrons. Dred and Tine went into alleys, the sophisticated architecture of the city slowly became less and less apparent the deeper they went into the alley. The buildings feel cramped, with one establishment immediately connected to another. As they walked, they finally reached their destination. It wasn''t obvious at first because there wasn''t a sign that hung but Dred saw naked women enter the building, some women even brought girls no older than nine with them. It was a truly disgusting and vile place which Dred has to stomach, his grip on his sword that hung around his waist tightened as they entered the brothel.


    After they took their first steps inside, Dred immediately tugged off Tine''s clothes and leaned into her ear. "Take a seat, I''ll find him", he whispered. Tine nodded and obeyed Dred''s command and she sat on a chair, spreading her legs open to entice some of the patrons waiting for their prostitutes.


    A few minutes or so passed, Dred came back to where he left Tine, this time, with Mippen in tow. Mippen looked nothing like a noble lord, with his loose shirt and half-pulled down trouser.


    "Here she is, Lord Mippen", Dred motioned his hand to show Tine naked and waiting.


    "She looks...exquisite.", Mippen replied as he started to undo his trouser while guiding Tine to their room. Tine giggled at his compliment and didn''t resist him. Dred followed behind the two until they reached their room at the very end of the hall. He heard the door close and immediately heard moans from both Mippen and Tine. He just stood outside and waited for all of it to finish, and the moaning died down after five minutes. Tine opened the door, wearing nothing but a silk dress wetted by her sweat.


    "Is he asleep?", Dred asked.


    "Like a toddler", she replied with a smirk.


    Dred nodded and went inside the room, and the stench of sperm and sweat filled his nose. It seemed like the sheets hasn''t been changed in a while and it repulsed him. Instead of waking up Mippen and starting negotiations like Vant ordered him, Dred unsheathed his sword and stabbed the sleeping Mippen through the skull causing him to die in an instant. Dred looked at Tine with a threatening gaze and she immediately picked up what his gaze meant. A single scream will mean her death at Dred''s hand.


    He searched Mippen''s clothes, and as he started to look through his trousers, he felt a rough sensation in his fingers and he pulled it away from the pocket without hesitation. Dred saw a scroll sealed with the coat of...House Sord? With much curiosity, he removed the seal and opened the letter and it read:


    "To Lord Mippen Splint, Ward of Solsari,


    I hope this letter reaches you without any hindrance, in the moment it does, I have a proposal.


    I believe His Majesty the King is a hindrance to us both and it would be much appreciated if you could...weed him out. Of course, you will be handsomely rewarded should you succeed in your endeavor.


    The rewards are, but not exclusively:


    ? A personal "lady" that you can use to please yourself any time of the day.


    ? A down payment of ten thousand gold and an additional fifteen thousand should you succeed.


    ? A marriage with my brother and your daughter to strengthen the alliance of our houses.


    I hope that you take the time to consider my offer, good sir.


    From,


    Vant Sord, Overseer of the East."


    "Woman", he called out.


    Tine turned her attention towards Dred with a raised eyebrow.


    "Brother...no, father already planned this.", he paused. "We were never meant to be here. Pack what you can carry, we''re going north, Bredost.", he ordered with immense urgency.


    Tine had to blink twice to process what he said. Did he just...call his brother "father"? Why? However, before she can ask, Dred cut him off.


    "We''ll talk about it on the way, for now, let''s just leave.", he urged while he put the letter in his rucksack.


    Under the cover of night, Dred and Tine rode on the same horse carrying only bare essentials like rations and money. If luck favors them, they can reach Primtone, the town near Bredost, by daybreak.


    As Dred and Tine rode, she took it as an opportunity to ask the question that lingered on her mind.


    "Sir Dred....you called Lord Vant your father but I''m fairly certain you''re brothers. Can you...enlighten me about it?", she asked softly while her hands are wrapped around Dred''s waist. The light of the full moon under the night sky shining on the both of them.


    He sighed softly. "I''ll only say it once so pay attention.", he replied. She gulped with nervousness on what she might hear.


    "Last week, I was in the library with the local archivist, Umbonet. I was helping him organize the latest books in the archive when I stumbled upon the bloodline of House Sord. I read through it and saw that my mother that gave birth to me...her partner was my brother.", he said solemnly.


    She gasped in surprise and her breath was almost taken away from her. Did she just hear it right? Dred was a product of incest? Before she can ask another question, she heard Dred sigh.


    "A short explanation was written about my birth. My brother...forced himself on our mother and held her captive in a tower. She immediately died after giving birth to me.", he continued.


    "What in the hells...", she cursed. She was about to ask, but she felt like she should leave it at that. Instead, she tried to light up the mood. "You don''t look like an inbred at all.", she teased and poked his cheek.


    Dred scoffed at her teasing and continued the ride. It is still deep in the night...

 Orewell III

    The day after the rowdy night in Icevale, Orewell is in his small house making himself breakfast. The house is just one massive room, his bed is on the eastern edge and the kitchen is just a small stove with few utensils, pots and pans. The walls of the house are made of cobblestone while the floors are made of wood and the roof is made of wood and patched with hay.


    He''s making a soup made with pork and vegetables he bought yesterday, a simple breakfast that he''ll eat alongside some bread, but it was enough to at least get his head straight after his drinking spree last night.


    His house smelled like cooked meat and spices blending into one marvelous fusion of scents. After a few minutes or so, he applied finishing touches to the soup and put servings of it and some bread in a bowl and plate then put it on his table.


    While Orewell was eating, he got reminded of the events that happened last night in Icevale. It was a loud and chaotic mess with all the drinking and singing, made even louder when the King''s eldest princess, Larene, kissed him out of her sheer drunkness. It''s not like it ends there either, the death glare that Lady Catherine gave him was enough to send shivers down his spine. Ironically, it seemed like the death glare was the one thing that snapped Orewell out of his hangover, not the soup that he made.


    He''s just sitting on a wooden chair and eating his meal when he heard a knock on his door.


    "Orewell! Open up!", a voice of a young man yelled out. The voice sounded urgent which was unusual this early in the morning. "Open up, damnit!", the voice yelled out once more.


    Orewell paused his meal to answer the door, the voice was familiar to him but he couldn''t get it on his head who. He opened the door and he was met with his older half-brother, Glen. Glen stood there wearing a pair of brown leather shirt and brown wool trousers, he also had black hair like their father, Felkin, but his hair was shorter than Orewell''s and it''s also neatly trimmed, he also had the same emerald green eyes that Lady Catherine has.


    Before Orewell can even greet Glen, he immediately went inside his small house with urgent steps. He sat on a chair by the dining table and panted in exhaustion.


    "You seem to be in a hurry, brother. What is this about?", Orewell asked curiously.


    Glen peeked through the windows to make sure no passerby will hear their conversation. He sighed deeply as if he was bracing himself for something.


    "Something is going to happen, Orewell. All lords in Divios came here in Bredost just a while ago. They''re currently in the council hall in the castle along with Father and King Illain.", Glen explained with exhausted panting between his sentences.


    Orewell raised his eyebrow, signalling to his half-brother that he can continue.


    "Someone is going to be appointed as a Kingshield. Who the person is? No one knows.", Glen added.


    "And...? What do I have to do with it?", Orewell asked.


    "Father wants you to come. The tailors have made clothes for you, and we''re going, now.", Glen urged.


    Orewell doesn''t understand why he was urged by his father to watch someone''s knighting ceremony but it seemed important so he quickly ate his meal by dipping the bread on the soup to mitigate the heat away.


    After eating, Orewell and Glen made a mad dash to the castle in Bredost. When they arrived, they were both panting heavily. They were met by their siblings and King Illain''s children. Amelie stood there in confusion to why her brothers were tired, beside Amelie stood Mayne, holding their youngest brother, Pin. Beside the Ays children stood the Poynt children, Tomm and Vina played with each other meanwhile Larene stood there and stared at Orewell.


    "Mayne, hand Pin over to Amelie and guide Orewell to the tailorers.", Glen ordered while still catching his breath.


    Mayne nodded without question and took her half-brother''s hand and guided him to the tailorer. Larene wasn''t sure with what to do so she just followed Mayne and Orewell.


    The three of them walked in the halls of the castle, cobblestone and more cobblestone greeted them the further they went.


    "It''s...nice to see you today, brother.", Mayne greeted softly, almost a whisper. Her grip on her half-brother''s hand tightened as they walked.


    "Yeah, it''s nice to see you too.", Orewell greeted back and he squeezed Mayne''s hands. Orewell''s hands felt rough and callous, which is completely different from Mayne''s that are soft and smooth.


    Mayne and Orewell aren''t that close so just starting a conversation is already hard. Mayne is probably the sibling that Orewell is the least close to since he hardly sees her.


    "Who do you think the knight will be, brother?", she asked with a small smile. Her brown hair reflected under the sun and Orewell saw her beautiful blue eyes that shone just like the sky in a sunny day.


    "I have no idea. Honestly, I''m only here because Father told me to come.", he admitted.


    Larene was feeling awkward just following behind her two cousins so she decided to pick up pace and walk on Orewell''s left side. She walked quietly, not wanting to interrupt her cousin''s conversation.


    As they walked, some of the servants in the castle glanced at them. Larene''s drunken antics last night became a talk around Bredost, of course, that includes the people in the castle.


    Finally, Larene took a deep breath and braced herself, finding this to be the right time to apologize.


    "Cousin...", Larene muttered. It was soft but still audible enough to catch Orewell''s attention.


    The halls of the castle are all made of cobblestone, with the arches and pillars being an exception for they were made with polished stone. The walls were decorated with painting of the ancestors of House Ays and other memorabilia, trophies of war and other things.


    "Mother and Lady Catherine told me what I did last night...", Larene muttered sheepishly.


    Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.Her cousin''s sheepishness made Mayne giggle because she was also there to witness the smooch she gave to her half-brother.


    "You were all tumbly and mumbly!", Mayne teased.


    Her younger cousin''s teasing was enough to embarrass her, but she was astounded that Orewell doesn''t even care. He''s just walking as if nothing ever happened last night.


    "I guess I should apologize...for making you drink.", Orewell finally broke his silence by uttering an apolpgy to Larene. Without a doubt, if Lady Catherine and Queen Clira were to know that Orewell urged Larene to drink, they would never let him hear the end of it.


    The three of them continued walking along the halls and reached halfway when Mayne stopped and turned left.


    "We''re here.", she muttered and open the dark oak door. The room was big and spacious, decorated by carpets and furnitures carved from spruce and birch.


    In the room sat a lone woman that wore a purple dress with embroidery designs that are foreign to Divios. On the right-most side of the dress depicted a blue man with four arms with golden headwear with fancy jewels in it. On the left depicted a woman without any clothes, her skin yellow as dandelion and she''s carrying a goat that sucked on her teat. He stared in awe and wonder at the designs of the dress when Larene muttered something.


    "Uniosi...", Orewell heard. Uniosi, the folk of the country to the east? That Uniosi?


    "You mean the folks in the east?", he asked.


    Larene nodded.


    "Yes. In the Pleatoss region, to be excact.", she answered. "The embroidery in her dress depicts the gods of Pleatoss people. The blue one, Moprish, is said to be the God of Rivers and Gummenaq, the yellow one is the God of Fields and Fertility.", she added.


    Larene''s knowledge about foreign cultures and religion impressed Orewell. He never bothered to study other because it didn''t pique his interest, and Diviosi culture is already confusing as it is.


    The woman that sat alone giggled after Larene''s explanation. "You''re a smart girl, My Lady.", she complimented with a posh and smooth accent, just like old Diviosi.


    "Thank you.", she replied and did a small bow.


    The three of them walked inside the room and was greeted by many fancy shirts and dresses, some foreign and some local.


    Finally, the woman stood up to greet Orewell, but the way that she did had a sense of warmth and familarity to it. Her warm smile and soft touch in his hands felt nostalgic to him.


    "So you''re watching someone''s knighting ceremony, huh?", the woman asked warmly.


    "Yes.", he agreed.


    "Take a seat, boy, I''ll pick something to make you look dashing.", she said with with a small giggle as she rummaged through her collection of clothes.


    As he sat down, Mayne and Larene sat on a sofa across him and waited.


    "What''s your name, boy?", the woman asked with a sing-song tune in her voice.


    "Orewell.", he answered quickly.


    The woman stopped in her tracks when she heard his name. This caught Orewell''s attention, but he didn''t question why she did stop and he just thought that she''s thinking of something.


    "You have no last name?", she asked. Her tone is now melancholic, a contrast to her previous tone.


    "Grey.", he paused. "But it''s less of a name and more of a title.", he added.


    "A bastard, eh?", she asked. The bitterness was obvious to both Orewell and Larene, but not to Mayne.


    "Aye.", he shrugged. "But it''s no shame to me. I was still made from my father, Felkin''s seed and incubated in my mother''s womb.", he paused. "A person."


    The woman chuckled at Orewell''s philosphical answer.


    Larene was a tad bit impressed by her cousin''s existential answer. She never thought Orewell is the kind of person that thinks too much.


    "It seems I''ve struck a nerve.", the woman said mischievously.


    "Aye, you did.", he laughed.


    After a while of rummaging later, the woman finally found something in her collection. A white shirt with a long sleeve and has an embroidery of House Ays'' banner on the left side of the chest. She also brought accessories like bracelets and a silver necklace with Frostbite turned into a gem.


    The woman carried all the clothes to Orewell and she asked him to take his shirt off. He nodded and complied, taking his shirt off with ease. His body is well built due to him working a lot of jobs that required manual labor. One notable feature of his physique is a scar of a burn in his stomach. It was from an accident that he had when he worked as a blacksmith''s apprentice when he was only nine years old.


    The woman assisted Orewell in wearing the clothes that she picked, helping him lock the necklace and bracelets on where they need to be. The sight of the woman and Orewell is one of a mother and child, at least from what Larene sees. The woman pat Orewell and dusted off his clothes afterwards.


    "All done.", she said with a warm smile.


    "Thank you, madam.", Orewell bowed respectfully.


    "Orewell.", she called. "Do you believe in magic?", she asked.


    "I can''t say that I do.", he paused. "But I read something about the Firstfolk of Divios and Unio using it. Why?", he asked with curiosity.


    "What do you think it is?", the woman asked. Now, her tone is filled with mystery.


    "Well, I don''t really know what it is exactly. But if I have to guess...", Orewell put fingers on his chin to think. After a few seconds of thought, he finally said something. "I guess it is the power to make what could be into what is.", he answered honestly.


    "A power to make what could be into what is, eh?", she repeated with a small giggle. "If you allow me, young lord. I can show it to you.", she said with a sense of mystique.


    Orewell, without hesitation, nodded. And the woman both of her hands on his cheeks and planted a very light and gentle kiss on his lips.


    "It could also show you what was.", was the last thing that Orewell heard before he collapsed into the woman''s arms.

 Larene II

    Larene and Mayne watched as Orewell lost consciousness and fell onto the woman''s arms.


    "What did you do?!", Larene shrieked.


    The woman smiled, still having the same mystique.


    "Showed him what was.", she answered. Her tone was warm and gentle but at the same time it was also grim and foreboding.


    Showed him what was? It sounded really cryptic to Larene''s ears. She read a few things about magic, but most of it were considered taboo by the church and she only read a few destroyed books and pages about it so it wasn''t too much of a foreign concept to her.


    "When...will he wake up?", she asked with a nervous tone and it also made her gulp as well.


    The woman''s warm smile disappeared and she has a nonchalant look on her face, coldness and mystique now enshrouds her.


    "Until he sees.", she said coldly.


    Larene gulped nervously and she gripped Mayne''s hand, who was still sitting beside her, as a form of reassurance.


    "Are you perhaps...one of those Dream Seers?", she asked.


    "Seer. Mage. Sorceress. Call me as you will. I am only the one that shows.", the woman answered coldly.


    The woman was still holding Orewell''s sleeping body as if he was her child. Larene took a good while to observe the woman''s features. She has long light blonde hair and purple eyes, the same hue as the dress she''s wearing. Larene only caught a glimpse of the woman''s eyes but she knew that it definitely had the same allure that Orewell''s eyes had, she also saw that the woman was whispering a lullaby to the sleeping Orewell.


    Suddenly, the woman stopped her lullaby to look at Larene.


    "Do you also want to see, My Lady?", she asked. The warm and gentle smile on her face returned.


    Larene thought for a while and she eventually nodded in agreement.


    "Y...yes.", she answered shyly.


    Larene looked at her younger cousin and gently grasped her hands.


    "Stay here and keep watch, okay?", she asked Mayne.


    Mayne nodded. "Okay.", she answered and kept watch on the door.


    The woman let Orewell sleep on the chair and approached Larene. "Empty your thoughts.", she said softly. She held her palms out and held both of Larene''s temples. Larene felt the woman''s soft and gentle hands make contact with her head.


    "Now close your eyes.", the woman ordered. And Larene followed. She closed her eyes and did her best to empty her thoughts. Her head slowly got hazy as she fell asleep.


    She then woke up to an unfamiliar scenery. She felt her body being tickled by foot-long patches of grass, the scent of the rich earth permeated her nose. The height of the sunny blue sky looked down on her as she laid on the grassy field.


    "Mother!", a girl''s voice called. "Mother!", she yelled again.


    Larene yawned and sat up to find where the voice came from and she saw a girl wearing a simple white dress running towards her. The small girl had porcelain white hair just like she does and as she came closer, she noticed that she also had ocean-deep blue eyes.


    The small girl giggled as she leaped towards Larene to hug her.


    "You''re sleeping again!", she said with a small laugh.


    "Now, now. Don''t be too hard on your mother. Taking care of you is already hard for her.", a man''s voice answered with a chuckle. It was deep but gentle.


    She turned towards the source of the voice, and she saw a tall man with long black hair tied into a ponytail, he also has deep blue eyes just like the child with white hair. He is carrying a small baby in his arms, wrapped in white cloth.


    "Who...", Larene paused. "Who are you?", she finally gathered the composure to ask.


    The man raised his eyebrow in confusion but still answered her question anyway.


    "It''s me, your husband.", he said in a somewhat confused yet playful and gentle voice.


    Larene had already pieced together that much since a child hugged her and called her mother then he soon followed carrying another child.


    "I know you are, but what''s your name?", she asked in a somewhat agitated tone.


    The man sighed and chuckled softly while still rocking the small child in his arms.


    "I don''t know what rock you hit your head this time, dear, but it''s me. Your one and only Orewell.", the man said with unbelievable amounts of confidence. His words were almost arrogant to a degree.


    Orewell? It took her a while to compose herself and process his words. Orewell?


    But before she can ask another question, she felt herself passing out.


    She woke up heavily panting and gasping for air, the scenery is now different. It''s the same room she was in before she was unconscious.


    Mayne noticed Larene waking up and she decided to rub her on the back to comfort her. As Larene was getting pat by her younger cousin on the back, she looked around to find the woman and she saw her sitting on a chair beside Orewell.


    "Ma''am...", Larene called out.


    The woman looked toward Larene''s direction.


    "What is it, My Lady?", she asked with a warm smile.


    "The thing that I saw. What is it?"


    "Your future, My Lady."


    "My future?", Larene repeated.


    Their conversation was interrupted when Orewell slowly and lethargically woke up. He only slept for a few minutes, but everyone in the room can feel a disturbing tension around Orewell.


    His eyes were squinted in annoyance as if something heavily bothers him, and he squinted further when he saw the woman with the purple dress.


    "What the hell did you show me, woman?", Orewell asked in disdain as he held her angrily by the collar.


    The woman, however, didn''t seem surprised at all as if she was expecting him to react this way.


    "By the Gods, who are you?", he asked once more.


    She started chuckling and gently took Orewell''s hands away from her collar.


    Larene and Mayne watched nervously as they watched Orewell confront the woman. The tension coming from him is very thick, almost suffocating, even.


    Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    As the woman started to speak, her presence suddenly peaked with regality.


    "Lilac Angr, third of my name."


    The woman''s last name were enough to put both Orewell and Larene into a sense of extreme shock and anxiety. Angr...the house of seers, mages and witches that originated during the Four Kingdoms era of Divios where the four great houses of Frostice in the north, Firstshore in the east, Millheart in the south and Goldring in the west waged war with one another, own with their seperate claims to the throne. At the time, House Angr were just a horde of nomadic tribespeople that migrated all around Divios that have an affinity to the supernatural, led by the chief of the tribe, Barren Angr. House Goldring were the first ones to encounter the horde and experience the strength of the incomprehensible. Wanting to employ the strength of the tribe, King Manley Goldring wed his son, Umrey Goldring to Barren''s first daughter, Relyna Angr. Thus forming a marriage alliance between the house and the tribe. At that time, King Manley named Barren a lord, thus establishing the House of Angr and was seated in Cinrig to the eastern borders of House Goldring where they acted as spymasters against the other kingdoms.


    Suddenly, two men burst the door open.


    "Daughter of the Cruel!", a bald man yelled. It''s Ser Lorel Dert, a knight of House Dert which is sworn to House Ays.


    "You have finally shown yourself!", the other man yelled. Ser Tinure Dert, Ser Lorel''s younger brother.


    House Dert was one of the minor Houses that joined King Illain''s rebellion against the cruel king Klustr.


    Ser Lorel seized Lilac, much to Orewell, Larene and Mayne''s confusion. Were they listening the whole time? If so, this is bad for Lilac. Knowing that Lilac is an Angr, she''d most definitely be executed. She can try to demand a trial by combat but it''s unlikely that anyone will try to fight for her stead.


    The two Dert men seized Lilac to be taken into trial.


    The initial shock and tension stopped the three children from doing anything, but once they have composed themselves, they followed the two men, but they were silent. Soon enough, they all arrived at the trial hall. Many people from other Houses are gathered, all chattering while waiting for the knighting ceremony.


    In the stage of the hall sat Lord Felkin, Lady Catherine, Queen Clira, King Felkin and the two Dert men who''s still holding Lilac. Ser Lorel started whispering to the King. Larene gulped in anxiety. She''s certainly nervous to what Lilac''s fate would be, but beside her stood Orewell who''s glaring at Ser Lorel angrily. She hasn''t known Orewell for too long but she knows that him feeling strongly about a stranger''s fate is unusual. She can''t help but wonder what''s going on in her cousin''s head.


    After a while, the king stood up and cleared his throat. Did...Ser Lorel finally reveal Lilac''s identity to the king?


    He sighed deeply.


    "Bring in the defendant for today''s trial.", the king ordered.


    And Ser Tinure brought in Lilac who isn''t resisting.


    The king took a good look at Lilac, and Larene noticed that his gaze has a hint of warmth and familiarity to it.


    "Lilac, you''re on trial on the grounds of treason against the kingdom of Divios", the king spoke, "Your father''s cruelty to the people a decade prior cannot be repaid with anything but blood. You are the last of your name, the laws of Gods and men dictate that treason is the highest form of trespass against the crown."


    Then, Ser Lorel whispered to the king once more.


    "And the attempted assassination of Lord Felkin''s son, Orewell. Another high crime.", he added.


    The room erupted into loud shouts from the lords, cursing and calling Lilac a many awful names.


    "This isn''t a trial.", Orewell muttered bitterly which caught Larene''s attention. "This is an execution.", he added.


    "What...what do you mean by that, cousin?", she asked with slight offense in her tone.


    "Are you blind, cousin?", he asked in return. "This is no trial. This is an execution.", he said. "The trial is just a formality, they never intended to give her a chance to defend herself.", he added. "Her only chance is a trial by combat, but even then, who''s to say that she will have a champion?"


    Larene was insulted by what Orewell had told her, but deep in her head, she knew that her cousin was right. Instead of arguing further, she just inched closer towards him.


    "You seem angry, cousin. What''s on your mind?", she whispered softly.


    "Angry? I''m not.", he answered.


    She didn''t believe his lie one bit, but she decided to direct the conversation somewhere else.


    "What did Lady Lilac show you?", she asked.


    He was silent. Whatever Lilac showed him, it was something he didn''t want to talk about.


    "Nothing.", he whispered.


    She inched even closer towards him and gently interlocked her fingers with his.


    "You can tell me anything, cousin. I''ll listen.", she whispered.


    The "trial" proceeded while Orewell and Larene where whispering to each other.


    But one demand from Lilac was enough to halt their conversation.


    "I demand a trial by combat!", Lilac yelled. Her gentle tone gone and was replaced by a demanding one.


    Everyone in the room was surprised by her demand, but King Illain more so.


    Ser Lorel approached the stage once more, ready to fight whoever Lilac''s champion would be. He stood clad in his armor and cloak, carrying his sword, Slasher.


    Everyone in the room waited in anticipation on who the champion would be, but none came. Ser Lorel was ready to execute Lilac if the king gave him the word.


    "I will be the woman''s champion!", a young boy''s voice roared. Everyone in the room turned their attention towards the voice and saw Orewell raising his hand. Larene looked to her side in disbelief. Her cousin volunteered to be her champion?! He''s asking for a swift death!


    "Cousin!", she hastily whispered. "A trial by combat is a fight to the death!", she warned.


    "I know.", Orewell answered determinedly. "But you already know too well that she''ll die either way. She might as well die with someone defending her."


    Larene felt Orewell''s hand slip away from hers as he made his way towards the stage.


    As he took the steps into the stage, the Lord Felkin approached him.


    "This is no game, boy.", he said in cold anger. There is no way he''d let his son die.


    But instead of turning away, Larene saw Orewell return the angry glare towards his father. She isn''t sure why exactly, but she has a strong feeling that his angry glare has something to do with what Lady Lilac showed him.


    Everyone in the room laughed at Orewell for volunteering to he Lilac''s champion, they thought it''s a pretty adorable but feeble attempt. Ser Lorel is one of the greatest swordsmen in the North and standing up to him is practically suicide.


    "Step down, Orewell.", Felkin ordered. "I do not wish to bury a son."


    "You''ll have nothing to bury,", he spoke and shoved his father out of the way and approached Ser Lorel.


    Once the two contenders were face to face with each other, Orewell is presented with a rack of weapons to choose from. A shortsword, a longsword, a spear and a hammer. He carefully examined the rack and took his time to pick what weapon he''ll choose, but he eventually settled with a spear.


    Ser Lorel burst into a roaring laughter. The sheer thought of this boy standing up to him is entertaining. Meanwhile, Larene is praying to the gods for her cousin''s safety during his duel, but she feels like her prayers would be in vain.


    "I''m ready when you are, boy.", Ser Lorel said, holding his sword with just one hand.


    Orewell thrusted at Ser Lorel with his spear, but his attack immediately got parried. He attacked and attacked, but all of his thrusts were parried each time until he managed to hit his opponent with a thrust through the seam in the shoulder of Ser Lorel''s ringmail. The spear went through, the tip bloodied, Orewell pulled his spear out which caused Ser Lorel to wince in pain. He growled angrily and gripped his sword with two hands and struck Orewell but he nimbly dodged the blow. Orewell leaped and thrusted his spear towards the seam in Ser Lorel''s knee, now, Ser Lorel is struggling to move as he''s bleeding. In a dirty attempt, he punched Orewell with his gauntlet which caused Orewell''s face to immediately bleed and his body to fall. The gauntlet felt heavy in his face and he''s getting slowly more lethargic, struggling to even stand. Ser Lorel removed his armor, with it hitting the wooden stage with a loud noise, as if a clash of blades ensued. Orewell, in a blind rage, pounced at Ser Lorel and repeatedly punched him while he was down on ground. Ser Lorel immediately used his arms to protect himself, but he''s no match for Orewell''s fury.


    "Who''s the boy now?!", Orewell yelled while still repeatedly punching Ser Lorel''s now bloodied face.


    Yet Orewell never gave him the chance to answer when he wore Ser Lorel''s gauntlets and continued to pummel his face with his fists, now wearing Ser Lorel''s gauntlets. Some of Ser Lorel''s teeth start to fly out with each punch until there were no more teeth in his mouth.


    The watchers gasped in horror of Orewell''s brutality, but the worst is yet to come.


    Orewell used the thumbs of the gauntlet to pierce through Ser Lorel''s eye socket, crushing his eyes and he screamed in pain and flailed. Orewell knew too well that there can be onlt one man left standing, and so, with his gauntlet, he pushed down on Ser Lorel''s face causing him to scream louder. And with one final push, half of Ser Lorel''s face was crushed with a loud crunch, the remains of his brain spilled on the wooden stage of the trial hall.


    Everyone shrieked at Ser Lorel''s gruesome death, some of the children started crying and Ser Tinure attempted to assault Orewell with his sword but was immediately stopped when the king spoke.


    "Enough!", the king roared. "The lad won fairly. Your brother knew what a trial by combat entails, do you wish to smear the honor of his death by hurting the victor?!", he said to Ser Tenure. And the knight immediately sheathed his sword.


    Ser Tinure bowed.


    "Apologies, Your Grace.", he apologized while keeping his head down, but the tears on his face were obvious.


    "For the trial of Lilac Angr, under the watchful eyes of the Gods and the eyes of the witnesses, the champion of the crown lies on the ground and thus by laws of trial by combat, you are hereby abstained from your crimes.", the king proclaimed.


    Larene was happy that her cousin survived, but she was not expecting the brutality that he had shown. She saw Orewell got off the stage, his face bloodied and with an open wound on his cheek. Some bits of Ser Lorel''s brain were stuck on his shirt and the knights behind him pulled away Ser Lorel''s dead corpse.


    "Orewell!", she called with worry.


    "I...I need rest.", was the only last thing that Larene heard as she caught Orewell''s body that collapsed on her.

 En Chan I

    En Chan is a direct descendant of the Uniosi-Tal emperor, En Tal. A young woman of eighteen with brown skin and has slightly slanted eyes, her frame tall and slim.


    Just a year before Illain''s rebellion, Unio attempted an invasion of Divios. The emperor, En He, amassed half a million troops and sailed troops from Spice Coast in Unio to the Peak, the mountain coast in the north of Divios. Mand Ays'', father of Lord Felkin, forces were the first to meet Uniosi troops at the Peak. With only twenty thousand men, Lord Mand''s forces were obliterated but they didn''t go without a fight. When they met the initial force of one hundred thousand men, they had managed to kill sixty thousand of them in the massive battle of the Peak. Twenty thousand Ays cavalry against the Tal''s eighty-five thousand infantry and fifteen thousand cavalry. It is rumored that Lord Mand destroyed parts of the mountain to crush the opposing troops. Unfortunately, he died during the final moments of the battle, just before the armies from other Houses arrived.


    In mainland Uniosi culture, it was believed that bringing the emperor''s child during a campaign brings extreme luck to the soldiers, but it seems like the belief was proven wrong because the only town they managed to capture and make a stronghold in is the town of Muntrew, just a few klicks southwest of the Peak.


    Felkin, who was only twenty-five at the time, led the recapture of Muntrew. With only five thousand Ays troops and a relief force of fifteen thousand, donated by different houses like Poynt, Sord and Angr. The mixed force of twenty thousand Diviosi troops against the remaining fifty thousand Uniosi troops that made a stroghold of Muntrew clashed. The mix of arrogance and bad tactics of En He''s general, Na Lu, allowed an easy victory for the Diviosi coalition. The most devastating loss for the Uniosi army is the capture of the young princess, En Chan, who was just one year old at the time.


    In the waning months of the war, En He had surrendered and the terms were discussed. One of the conditions were En Chan being under Felkin''s custody. As reprimandment for their devastation of the North, under the former king, Klustr''s, order. En Chan was to be cared for by House Ays and she will become betrothed to whichever male heir that Felkin chooses. By making En Chan a hostage by House Ays, her betrothal to one of Felkin''s heirs will mean a political alliance between the two countries, despite it being most likely in the Diviosi''s favor since En Chan has nobody in her life. Just a single mistake from Unios and she will most likely die as punishment.


    In the trial hall of Castle Bredost, she had witnessed the events that occurred during the trial by combat, by extent, Ser Lorel''s death. She was certainly shocked by it, but she was immediately snapped out of her thoughts when Lord Felkin spoke to her.


    "En.", he called.


    "What is it, My Lord?", she asked politely.


    "Can you tend to my boy?", he requested. She was certainly well-versed in the arts of medicine and Felkin had found it useful.


    "Of course, My Lord.", she bowed and accepted her Lord''s request, who at this point is her foster father. Despite being a prisoner of war if technicalities were talked about, she was treated extremely well by Felkin and his children. She started treating his children as if they were her siblings, and it seems that they share the same sentiment about her.


    Felkin told the chambers where Orewell laid to rest. She walked through the halls of the castle and made her way to the second floor. After a few moments of walking, she eventually reached her destination. At the farthest hall of the second floor, the room''s door were slightly opened and she peeked through carefully to not alert anyone of her presence. She saw a girl lean towards the sleeping Orewell and kissed him. Then, she heard the girl speak:


    "I don''t know exactly why, but I think I love you, cou-- Orewell."


    She heard faintly. She doesn''t know who the voice belonged to, but En Chan noticed the sense of familiarity in the girl''s words.


    The room was only lit by torches, the orange glow illuminated over the young girl and the sleeping Orewell.


    With a soft sigh, En Chan entered.


    En Chan''s steps were enough to attract the girl''s attention.


    "Who are you?", the girl asked.


    "I''m the one sent to care for Orewell.", she answered.


    En Chan had always a certain layer of respect and affection towards Orewell. Whenever he gets the chance to visit the castle, he spends time with her be it by collecting herbs and other activities, she always felt connected to him, most probably because of their familial status, they''re almost one of the same, he''s a bastard, and she was taken as a political hostage ever since she was a baby. None of them had true families to come back to.


    En Chan walked towards Orewell and gently stroked his hair. She noticed that the bits of Ser Lorel''s brain stuck on his bloodied shirt and removed it then threw it away thorugh the window.


    "Who are you, My Lady?", she asked. She''s certain that the girl looks familiar.


    "Princess Larene Poynt.", the girl answered.


    "I see.", she responded calmly. "What''s your relationship to Ser Orewell?"


    She heard Larene call Orewell "cousin", but it she''s meticulous in nature and would confirm things twice, thrice and gods forbid, a fourth time if need be.


    "He''s my cousin.", Larene answered coolly.


    "I think it''s unusual to kiss your cousin.", En chan replies.


    "Aren''t kisses an act of love?"


    "It is."


    "Then I don''t think there''s anything unusual with what I did."


    En sighed at Larene''s weak argument. It''s most unusual that a girl like her would feel for Orewell especially since it seems like they haven''t met for too long.


    "I sincerely think there''s a boundary to love, especially when it''s between family members.", En rebutted. "I believe that everything should have line drawn to it somewhere."


    En had seemingly shut Larene up but she then saw her take a deep breath as if to collect her thoughts.


    "I''m well aware that my feelings for him are taboo--", as Larene was explaining herself, sighing again to think about what she''ll say next. "But I made up my mind that I''ll only stop pursuing him if he stops me.", she paused. "Until he doesn''t, I''ll just continue loving him."


    En can practically see the determination in Larene''s eyes. She was baffled by it, but she''d be lying if she wasn''t impressed. Larene''s determination made En respect her, albeit slightly.


    "Why do you love him so much, my lady?" En asks curiously. "From what I understand, you only met him this morning yet here you are, talking as if you two have shared some...unbreakable bond."


    Larene sighs. "I...do not exactly know why, to be honest. I just know that I do. Something deep inside my heart feels all...nice and warm when I see him, as if something about his presence is telling me everything is going to be alright, that nothing can and will go wrong. A certain air of being dependable, if you will.", she pauses with a sigh. "Do you think...it''s wrong?", she asks genuinely curious about what En makes of it.


    Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    En takes a moment to think. On one end, she believes that people are allowed to love who they want to. On the other end though, Larene is still related to Orewell by blood and in Uniosi culture and tradition, incest is a massive taboo even for political reasons. Even if incest is not forbidden, it''s mostly for political reasons like strengthening an alliance through marriage and such.


    After a few moments of thinking, she spoke. "I do believe that it is alright to love who you choose, but please do not forget, you are a princess and heir to the crown if your little brother were to pass."


    Their conversation was interrupted though as the two of them heard small yawning and the sound of the bed slightly creaking.


    "Gods. Women really don''t shut up.", Orewell said with annoyance.


    En politely bowed.


    "Good morning, Orewell.", she greeted. "How do you feel today?"


    Orewell yawned, he covered his mouth with his sleeve. "I got punched with a metal gauntlet and I crushed half of a man''s skull. How do you think I would feel?", he replied with sarcasm and slight agitation.


    Seeing his frustration, En sighs, sitting next to Orewell on the bed and gently wrapped his figure around her slim arms, stroking his hair with soothing gentleness. "I suppose not.", En answers. She starts to whisper a small tune as she continues to comfort him. "There, there...it''s alright, Orewell. Just let me comfort you, okay?", she whispers with a gentle almost motherly tone.


    As she continued to wrap her arms around him, Orewell spoke. "Thank you.", he said and she felt Orewell''s arms wrap around her waist. After a few moments, he spoke once more. "What happened after I killed Ser Lorel?", he asks with an almost sad sounding tone.


    En had noticed the grim and pained look on Orewell''s face so she decided to tighten her hug on him as she answers. "Ser Tinure left to go back to his home, Cladburn, in the northwest."


    "I see...", he muttered softly then sighed. "I could use another shirt, En.", he giggled.


    "Hm...alright.", she agreed and released Orewell from her grasp and rummaged through the closet to look for clothes for him to use. She took a sleeveless black shirt then sat back on the bed, handing his shirt to him. "Do you want me to dress you up?", she asks with a teasing yet gentle smile.


    "Thanks.", he replied and took the shirt En gave him. "But no thanks, I think I can do it myself."


    As he changed his shirt, En noticed the scar that he had when he was a lad.


    "Much better.", he exclaimed in comfort.


    "Orewell, just to inform you, the woman was also freed and it seems like the knighting ceremony was abruptly ended and is moved at a later date.", En answered. "Or so they say.", she adds.


    "The knighting...", he muttered. "I''ll assume the lords would be here until the knighting ceremony is over?"


    En shook her head.


    "No. Something bigger happened and the knighting ceremony will be held in private.", she replied.


    "What happened?", Larene nervously interrupted.


    "Apparently, House Sord had plotted to take over the capital by sending an envoy to persuade the Lord there to replace the royal banner with the Sord''s, effectively prompting a peaceful takeover."


    En saw the two conflicting looks on Orewell and Larene''s face. On one hand, Orewell looks amused, on the other, Larene looks surprised.


    "A sneaky takeover, eh?", Orewell asked with an amused tone. "A clever trick by Lord Vant...if it works anyway."


    "It''s...fair to say that Lord Vant is in trial, yes?", Larene asked calmly.


    En nodded.


    "Let''s watch.", Orewell urged, standing up from the bed.


    The three of them then made their way to the trial hall where they witnessed the hearing of Lord Vant''s case. Then suddenly, they heard a shout.


    "Your Grace! I know nothing of such plot!", Lord Vant pleaded.


    The bannermen of House Sord stood at the side of the hall with intense anxiety.


    "Your House''s banner lying in the capital is already an evidence of your treachery, Lord Vant.", the king said.


    "I''ll be damned if I''d be.", En heard Orewell say. She turned around, he seems to enjoy the trial...for some reason. En knew Orewell, and she knew him well. Usually, he''ll just be apathetic to anything that doesn''t directly concern him, so seeing him care right now. It''s somewhat off-putting to her.


    The bannermen of House Sord suddenly approached the stage and knelt down on both of their knees, their foreheads touching the ground.


    "Our lord is innocent, Your Grace!", they all declared in unison. Their yell echoed all through out the hall, to which En can''t help but chuckle to herself. She knew that the Sords are proud, only next to the Koyns, yet seeing the lord of the house groveling himself before the king...it''s pathetic.


    Then a man with brown hair that flowed until his shoulder approached the king then knelt in respect and gave him a letter. The king opened it and took a good while to read what the letter entails. While the king was reading, Lord Vant glared at the brown haired man as if he recognizes him.


    "Who is he?", Orewell whispered.


    "Lord Dred Sord. Brother of Lord Vant, named ''The Executioner''.", Larene answered.


    "You seem knowledgeable about the players here, My Lady.", En complimented.


    "Players?", Larene asked. "I assume you''re referring to the lords?"


    "That, and those who eye the throne.", she said with a small laugh.


    Their conversation was interrupted by Orewell''s chuckle.


    "Look at Lord Vant. Cowering in fear.", he scoffed. "Ironic, isn''t it? Men who are brave enough to plot are the ones that cower when caught and faced by a blade."


    The hall was then filled with silence.


    "Lord Vant, you are charged with treason and an attempted conspiracy to usurp the throne.", the king said coldly while holding out the letter with Lord Vant''s signature and seal. "You are to be relieved from your status as the lord of House Sord and Overseer of the East. You will be replaced by your male heir and if you have none, I will choose one in your stead.", he added. The king then firmly gripped his sword, Kingmaker. "Your crimes can only be paid for by execution, Vant."


    Before the king can deliver the sentence, Dred spoke.


    "Allow me to deliver the execution, Your Grace.", he paused. "He has wronged my family and they will not rest if Vant was to be slain by an outsider.", he said bluntly.


    The king sighed and sheathed his sword.


    "Your request is granted, Ser Dred."


    Two knights then forced Vant to kneel on the ground.


    "Unhand me!", Vant yelled as he struggled. "You incompetent cunt of a king!", he cursed.


    Before Vant can insult the king further, Dred pulled his sword and sliced Vant in two vertical halves, the former lord''s body split and fell on the floor with his guts and are visible for all to see. The Sord bannermen shrieked in horror while the others stayed silent.


    Both Larene and En gasped in horror at the violence that ensued, causing them to both grip Orewell''s arm, Larene on the lift and En on the right. Even the usually aloof and indifferent Orewell was slightly shocked.


    "I guess his reputation is well earned.", Orewell said with slight fear evident in his voice.


    The entrance of the hall suddenly burst open.


    "Vant, you goddamn bastard!", a man yelled. His voice roared like a raging thunder.


    The man that yelled looked old. His hair was grey, his eyes a deep brown. The old man was slouching and he''s walking with a cane, taking slow but heavy steps. Notably, there''s also a scar on his right eye and left cheek.


    "I''ll fucking kill you myself, you whore-boy!", he cursed in another thunderous roar.


    "Calm yourself, Lord Mil.", the king ordered. "What seems to be the problem?"


    Lord Mil, along with his ward, a young man of Orewell''s age, Lurter, bowed politely to the king.


    "Your Grace.", he greeted. Despite the fury in Lord Mil, he was still courteous. "Lord Vant...he has invaded one of my towns, Wheatplain. He has sacked it! All of the townsfolk were massacred!", he exclaimed in anger.


    The people in the hall were left speechless by the accusation. Some gasped, some laughed, but most remained silent.


    "Calm yourself, Lord Mil.", the king ordered.


    "I will not, Your Grace!", the old lord yelled. "That fucker Vant has massacred my people! I will not stand for it!"


    "Cease.", the king coldly ordered once more.


    Lord Mil was immediately stopped in his tracks. His ward, Lurter, held onto his lord to support him.


    "Lord Vant has been executed just recently.", he paused. "However, I''ll send someone to look into the matter, that, I can assure you.", the king promised.


    "Your Grace! My people died!", Lord Mil pleaded. "The Sords must pay!"


    "I said I''ll deal with it, Lord Mil."


    Before Lord Mil can say another word, his ward, Lurter, spoke.


    "May I have Your Grace''s permission to look into the matter? Lord Mil''s people are my people as well, it would only be right if someone from our House gets to investigate.", Lurter bargained.


    "You have my permission.", the king allowed.


    Lurter politely bowed and took his old lord out of the hall.


    "The Sords attacked the Mils? Well ain''t that a bugger?", En chan heard Orewell whisper. "First, the Sords plotted to usurp the king''s throne, now they attacked the Mils.", he added.


    "What do you make of it?", En asked.


    Orewell, along with Larene turned their heads towards En. The pair had a confused look, as if they were deep in thought.


    En could see Larene slightly shaking, possibly due to fear of the situation. After all, someone had just threatened to take her home.


    "I''m guessing that the Sords tried to accomplish two goals at once. But obviously, they have failed at both.", Orewell guessed. "They probably planned the invasion of the South first before the capital. But there were setbacks in both plots. Someone must have betrayed Lord Vant.", he added. "And now he''s half a man."


    En seemed to agree with Orewell''s guess. Of course, none of it could be proven just yet, but it''s the most likely conclusion that anyone could think of.


    "W...what''s happening?", Larene asked nervously. Her tone shaky and anxious.


    En could see that Larene''s grip on Orewell''s hand is tightening. Then, he let go of her hand and hugged Larene.


    The two hugged silently, with the only noises that can be heard are the rustling of clothes due to it being rubbed by Orewell, and the chattering of the bystanders.

 Lurter I

    Lurter Noubelle is a young man of fourteen with a slim build and untamed pale white hair, strands ran all through out his head with some drooping down and forming bangs. His crystal clear prismarine eyes shine like a gem when a person sees it, which makes him a hit with the ladies, added with his natural charm and wit, it all makes him irresistible.


    The Noubelles are a minor house under the banner of House Mil in the South and they hold a tight sense of loyalty towards them. Although not strong militarily or economically, the Noubelle''s strength is their intelligence. Many scholars in Divios are products of the education in the academies that are owned by House Noubelle, most tacticians and strategists of House Mil are also Noubelle scholars or outright Noubelle family members.


    The next morning after the chaos of last night, Lurter has succeeded in persuading the king in to leave the investigation of the plots of the Sords. Despite being a man of wit, he knows his limits too well and he understood that he can''t do everything on his own and he must enlist someone''s help. From someone he can trust. And that person is no other than his childhood friend, Orewell. They met when they were just young boys of eight and it didn''t take it too long for the two of them to be close and immediately be friends. What Lurter lacked in swordsmanship was compensated by Orewell''s.


    He yawned, taking in the fresh morning air from the window of the room. The cold is just something Lurter couldn''t get used to, but yet here he is.


    "Best get the day started", he muttered to himself.


    He took a quick bath and meal and immediately left the inn, leaving his lord in the care of another ward. He wore a fur cloak to warm himself as he took steps in the chilly pavements of Bredost. And by all his luck, as he continued to walk around town, him and Orewell crossed paths. His black hair and blue eyes were as deep as always, abysmal, almost.


    However, whatever time they have to reminisce would be diminished into nothing as the urgency of his task takes priority.


    "Orewell.", he greeted.


    "Lurter?", Orewell asked in disbelief and obvious joy. For the many years Lurter knew Orewell, his eyes rarely ever gleam, and this surely is one of the times that it does.


    Lurter nodded.


    "This is no time for nostalgia, my friend.", he said dismissively. "I have an urgent task and I need your help. I need someone I could trust."


    "I''m all ears.", he assured. "What do you need of me?"


    "You''re well aware of what the Sords had done, yes?"


    Orewell nodded. Lurter can practically see the contemplation in his friend''s eyes and demeanor. However, his thoughts were interrupted as Orewell spoke once more. "That, I know of", he confirmed. "What exactly do you need me for?"


    "I need your company and sword. As much as I want to keep this task to myself, this is no job I can do alone", he said solemnly.


    "Anything for you, my friend. What''s our first course of action, if I may ask?"


    "We''ll go to the biggest information network in Divios. Mireznd, a brothel in the west. In Koyn territory, their bannermen''s specifically, House Rivermay. "


    At the mention of the "Koyn", Lurter saw Orewell''s face turn into one of disgust.


    "Ah. The House of inbreds and boy-fuckers.", Orewell murmured.


    "Yes. And those inbreds are the ones that will give us our information.", Lurter replied. "I heard rumors that one of the heirs of House Koyn, Lord Zuremis, is a regular patron there. If we can somehow catch him, we might be able to make him spill something." He knew well enough that this tactic might cause unwanted conflict, and that he might not have any leverage against Zuremis, but he''ll worry about that as they go.


    "Why the Koyns though?", Orewell asked in confusion. "The Sords attacked the Mils, not the Koyns."


    Lurter couldn''t help but chuckle at his friend''s lack of insight. Quite exactly what he needed, a person that isn''t too smart for his own good.


    "The Sords cannot afford a campaign as massive as they did.", he paused. "The Sords must''ve had some form of financial help, and there''s no better House to ask for money other than the Koyns."


    "I see.", Orewell responded calmly. "You''re suspecting the Koyns must have assisted the Sords in their campaign in the south financially?", he guessed.


    "The Koyns aren''t exactly fond of the southerners." Lurter sighed.


    "And what if they don''t?", Orewell questioned. "It might cause more unecessary tension than we can ever manage."


    "They do, Orewell.", Lurter insisted. "The west is a sandy mess. With their soil turning dry, it''s more efficient for them to just take new lands and plunder than importing food. More lands and less rivals."


    "It''s just a guess, but are you suggesting that the Sords and Koyns plan to split whatever''s left of Mil?", Orewell asked.


    "That''s what we aim to prove.", Lurter said with a soft yet cold, scheming smile


    Orewell shrugged his shoulder. He''s not the type to think too much about things, Lurter knew his friend well. If there is a chance Orewell can just let the others do the thinking, then he''d take that chance instead of worrying about it himself.


    "We rarely meet, but when we do, it''s an adventure", he commented and pat Lurter on the back while laughing softly. "Just like that one time when were younger. You found a cave but had no one explore it with so you made me come. We had no idea where to go and we ended up getting lost for days.", he laughs.


    Lurter laughed at the recollection. They were indeed lost at an unfamiliar cave at his insistence and it was a day before they were found. They were both scraped and cold and just a few more steps away from death''s door. After a small moment of a fond smile, Lurter spoke. "We should get permission from Lord Felkin. It''s best that at least your family knows where you are and what you''re doing."


    Orewell nodded in agreement at Lurter''s suggestion. And soon, the two of them made their way into Castle Bredost. The walk was quite eventful for the two of them, chatting and catching up with each other''s lives. Despite the cold winter breeze, their conversation managed to occupy Lurter''s mind on something. Eventually, the two of them reached the castle and walked across the halls to search for Felkin''s chamber. Before the two of them arrive there though, they pass by the dining room, Felkin and his family alongside the king and his family eating at the dinner table.


    The two of them quietly entered the dining room and approached Felkin, interrupting the lunch. They politely excused themselves and Orewell stepped in, bowing as he does so.


    "Father", Orewell called. "A word, please", he said urgently.


    "I''m certain that you could tell your matters to everyone, Orewell. We''re your family.", Felkin answered softly and gently as if he was talking to a child.


    Lurter could already feel Orewell''s annoyance grow, evident by him taking a very deep sigh. He knew that Orewell does not like being treated like a child, he despises it. Lurter understood that how his friend feels. He''s a bastard, half a lord and half a commoner yet he''s accepted by neither. Orewell''s mother, Lady Catherine, is not fond of him at all, she does not treat him like a lord''s son. Hell, he would go as far as to say that Lady Catherine despises Orewell with all her being. And as a commoner, his only family is his fellow workers in the inn that he''s barely close to. He cannot even begin to understand the isolation his friend feels.


    "Very well.", Orewell resigned. "I''m leaving, I''m going to assist Lurter in his task to investigate the Sord''s...debauchery, so to speak."


    His words sent everyone to a halt. Then Amelie, who''s eating right beside her older sister just had the saddest look on her face. "If Orewell doesn''t explain himself, then she''d break into tears, no doubt.", Lurter thought to himself as he gazes at Amelie who is still looking at her half-brother who just announced his departure.


    As Lurter scanned the dining table, he saw Princess Larene looking at Orewell with the same gaze as Amelie does and it struck him as...peculiar. He doesn''t want to make assumptions but he''s betting fifty gold that the princess likes Orewell...for some unholy reason. Lurter knew his friend well, good and bad things alike, and they both knew that Orewell is not as handsome as the other lords his age.


    "This is a serious matter, son.", Felkin sternly reminded. "You don''t know what you''ll get into."


    "Aye, I know.", Orewell replied stubbornly. "But my friend asked for my help and I intend to give him that."


    "You will die.", Felkin rebutted. "You won''t be as lucky when you slew Ser Lorel."


    Lurter saw Orewell wince and squint in anger, but to Lurter''s surprise, Orewell is holding himself well.


    "I know that much, Father, but this is something I have to do. I''m the only one Lurter could trust, if I don''t him then nobody will", he paused then sighed before going on to continue talking, "It''ll also in the best interest of everyone here if we were to check on the Koyns and Sords, no? The last time someone kept their eyes off a Sord, Divios became a massive clusterfu-- mess."


    Everyone stayed quiet at Orewell''s words. It is true that weakening the Sords will keep the balance of power in Divios. After all, no one wants to have a repeat of the Puppeteer''s Requiem where Lord Plystring "The Puppeteer" Sord plagued chaos in the land, spreading rumor after rumor until the distrust among Houses erupted into a massive civil war that claimed millions of lives, and when all the Houses are weakened from weeks of constant fighting, it didn''t take the Sords long to easily march into the capital, Undyrlee. They ruled Divios with an iron fist for decades until Nommad "The Liberator" Angr freed the land in his own rebellion that many historians today regard as a noble cause.


    Stolen story; please report.


    After Orewell presented his thoughts, the king was the first to react by a chuckle.


    "This is a nice opportunity for him to explore the world, brother. It''s a good chance for him to gain many experiences, no?", the king said with a small smile. "He''s already a man grown, he can handle himself."


    Now that Orewell is coerced by the king, there''s almost nothing much that Felkin could do. With a heavy sigh of dismay, he reluctantly allowed his son to go.


    "Alright, it seems like I have no more voice in this matter.", Felkin resigned. "All I ask of you is to take care. Can you do that for me, my boy?", he asked with worry.


    Orewell politely bowed, but the excitement on his face is obvious even if he looked down.


    "Of course", Orewell replied.


    Now that all is well and done, Orewell is finally allowed to join Lurter in his journey. But the king still has something to say.


    "Leave by daybreak, lads", the king ordered. "Use this day as rest. It won''t be for a while that you''ll be back."


    The king then beckoned for Orewell to come over and he followed. The king seems to be whispering something to Orewell but Lurter couldn''t really hear it well.


    After the whisper, Orewell followed Lurter two lads nodded and left the castle. They went to a general store to prepare for their journey ahead.


    "That went smoother than I expected.", Lurter remarked with a small laugh.


    "Way better.", Orewell replied with a small smile of his own.


    "I definitely expected your little sister to cry. She seems very attached to you."


    "I almost feel bad leaving her alone...", Orewell said solemnly.


    "How about you talk to her before we leave? And the princess too. She''s eyeing you while you spoke.", Lurter said with a teasing smirk.


    Orewell remained silent while storing the things he bought inside his rucksack. But finally, he said something.


    "The princess, huh?", he asked with a confused tone. Then another sigh. "Gods...that girl.", he said like a curse.


    "It''s not everyday a princess likes a commoner, much less a bastard.", Lurter joked with a cheeky grin.


    "Damn say that again, I dare you.", Orewell jokingly provoked.


    The two of them continued to playfully banter along the way to his house. When they arrived, Orewell stored the goods he bought in small sacks while Lurter took liberties in his friend''s home and laid on his bed, sprawling his body widely and uncaringly. As Orewell went to the kitchen to cook, the lazy Lurter groggily left the bed to take some books from Orewell''s bookshelf only to lay back down on his bed, opening a random page from said book and reading to kill some time. After a while of waiting, Lurter''s reading was interrupted as his friend beckoned him to come over and sit with him by the dining table.


    "Come.", Orewell calls, placing bowls of soup and plates of freshly baked bread on the table. Lazily, Lurter stood from Orewell''s bed and groggily went to the dining table with his friend. Lurter held the spoon with complete lack of energy as he slowly slurped the soup. To his surprise, the soup was good. Very good.


    "You''re surprisingly good at cooking.", Lurter complimented as he smelled the scents of Orewell''s dish. "Who taught you?"


    "The barmaid at the inn I''m working at.", Orewell answers then smiles. "I''m glad it''s to your liking.", he adds and continues to eat. The two of them continued with their meal, catching up and bantering with each other until they were interrupted by a knock on Orewell''s door.


    "I''ll get it.", Lurter said as he stood from his seat to walk over to the entrance. As he opened the door, a young boy stood outside, by his guess, the boy is about seven or eight years old. He is dressed in common shirt and trousers.


    "A letter for Mister Orewell", the young boy said while holding a letter.


    Lurter took the letter and slipped some coins into the boy''s hand and gesturing for it to run off. He closed the door and turned towards Orewell, smiling teasingly. "I''m reading it aloud.", Lurter declared, not even asking for Orewell''s opinion.


    "Please don''t.", Orewell''s pleads yet Lurter opened the letter and started to clear his throat and read the said letter aloud anyway.


    "My dear Orewell...", Lurter read, causing Orewell to feel a weird and almost uncomfortable feeling which is just what he wants his friend to feel. Lurter finds it to be quite adorable to see him feel all shy and awkward. "I hope this letter reaches you, if it does, can I meet you again one final time before you leave? There is so much I want to tell you that I can''t with just a letter. Amelie told me that a there is a tree just outside the castle that stands out and isn''t hard to find, perhaps we can meet and talk there? From--", Lurter''s reading was cut off as Orewell spoke.


    "Larene.", Orewell said with certainty. His face looked stern, but deep inside his eyes has solemn warmth to it.


    "How did you...?", Lurter asked in confusion.


    "Gut feeling.", Orewell answered, but Lurter knows that a jackass lies better than Orewell ever can.


    "Gut feeling my arse. You knew this would happen, wouldn''t you?", Lurter asked with a playful smirk on his face. "I can also tell you''re going to meet her, in which case, let me come. I want to entertain myself by seeing you mess it up.", he added smugly. "You were never the type to talk to a girl casually, you keep blushing and all."


    Orewell rolled his eyes in annoyance. "Oh, fuck off.", he bantered.


    With something to now do in the otherwise quiet and dull night, two of them quickly ate dinner and went to the location that Larene wrote in the letter. Walking outside his house, the duo headed through the direction of the castle. And as they stood in front of the ever imposing castle, Orewell headed to the east and Lurter followed. Going through some trees, they eventually arrive at an inward clearing with a lone, tall and dead tree with its branches wilting, yet it looks like it still refuses to die. Under the tree stood the princess a meek yet delighted look on her face. While Orewell met Larene, Lurter hid himself behind a nearby boulder that is relatively inconspicuous where he can still hear the conversation between the two. He really could not comprehend about what is so appealing about Orewell that he managed to catch the attention of princess of the realm. From his position, Lurter has a decent view of Orewell and Larene talking under the dead tree, their conversation looks quite...intimate? Lurter isn''t exactly sure what specifically they''re talking about, but that''s the best he can guess due to how close the princess is standing to Orewell. Looking at her face, he can see some...sadness? He''s not exactly sure, so he''ll just safely assume that it''s melancholy. Which in of itself is already bizarre because they don''t seem to be that close together.


    Their converaation went on for a little longer until the princess stepped close to Orewell and leaned to kiss him on the lips, subconsciously wrapping her arms around his neck. Despite the affection though, Orewell just stood there, still as a rock and not reciprocating her intimate gesture. After the kiss, she pulled away and immediately ran off, leaving Orewell alone under the tree. Seeing what happened, Lurter left his hiding spot and stood next to his friend.


    "What did you two talk about?", Lurter asks, staring at the dead tree like Orewell is doing.


    "If...possible, I want to just keep it to myself and think about it.", Orewell answers with uncertainty in his tone, his gaze still fixated on the dead tree as he ponders about his own thoughts and feelings.


    "I...understand.", Lurter answers, continuing to stand in silence as they both stood in front of the tree together.


    Soon, Orewell turned from the tree, giving it a final glance before he started walking away and back to his house. With nothing else to do, Lurter followed his friend. When they arrived, they threw themselves on the bed and slept peacefully.


    The next morning, they both ate breakfast and changed into more comfortable clothing. As they prepared their supplies for departure, suddenly, there was another loud knock on the door.


    "Orewell!", a voice called. "Orewell!", the voice repeated.


    Lurter raised an eyebrow at Orewell, silently asking for a clue on whose voice it was who''s calling him outside.


    "It''s my older brother.", Orewell answers and opens the door. "What is it, Glen?", he asks.


    "The king calls for you and your friend.", Glen answers, glancing at Lurter.


    Lurter glances at Orewell and they both exchange glances and a nod as they follow Glen towards the castle where the king supposedly wanted their audience. At this fine morning, Lurter does not know why, but they are the king''s orders so it must be obeyed.


    Arriving at the castle, they follow Glen to the main halls of the castle, smears of blood still on the floor after Lord Vant''s execution the two nights ago.


    "Orewell, Lurter.", a deep voice calls, catching the two''s attention. It was the king, Illain. He is sitting on the throne, with Queen Clira to her left and their eldest child, Larene, on the right. There also stood Lord Felkin and Lady Catherine near the king, on Queen Clira''s side. "Come.", he beckoned. The two nodded, standing in front of the throne and kneeling in front of the king.


    "Your Grace.", they said at the same time.


    The king then chuckled. "At ease, lads.", he says, gesturing for the two to stand up. And stand they did, dusting off their knees and giving their full attention to the king. He cleared his throat and spoke.


    "The reason I called you two is because I will give you something that will aid you in your journey."


    With a wave of his hand, a soldier comes forward, a dagger and a sophisticated looking brooch in hand.


    "Orewell.", the king calls. And as he should, Orewell steps forward.


    "Yes, Your Grace?", he asks, the respect very apparent in his voice. The soldier then walks in front of him, giving the dagger. Promptly, Orewell takes the dagger. The dagger has a black crooked scabbard that is three-fourths of a foot long. The handle is made out of wood and wrapped with animal hide, with a ruby in the socket found at the pommel.


    "That dagger is passed down from generation to generation of the kings of Divios, starting from the very first king during the ''Era of Unification'', King Marthis Rivermay VI, way before House Angr even stepped foot in Unios. Since then, the dagger became a symbol of power and authority.", the king explained. "Kneel, Orewell.", he commanded while drawing his sword, the golden handle shining brightly.


    Orewell obediently knelt, not saying anything further as the king tipped Orewell''s right shoulder, then the left shoulder, and eventually, the top of his head. Everyone in the room knew what will happen. Orewell is going to be deemed a knight.


    "Today, in the twenty-seventh day of the sixth month of the fourtheenth year of my reign, I, Illain Poynt, king of Divios, liberator of the oppressed, protector of the common folk and the realm, under the watchful eyes of the All-seeing Gods and the eyes of men, bestow upon you the title of Ser, a knight because of the strength and courage you displayed as Lilac''s champion when she demanded a trial by combat and when you slayed Ser Lorel.", after a short pause, the king stepped away and sheathed his sword. "You may now rise, Ser Orewell. You are now a knight of the North and of the realm as a whole. Use the power I have granted you to serve the realm and its people."


    "Thank you, your Grace. I will.", Orewell replies as he stood up. Lurter can practically feel the happiness in his friend even if he doesn''t show it. He knew. That finally, Orewell can have the chance to find somewhere he can belong. However, his thoughts were interrupted as the king spoke once more. "Lurter.", the king calls then takes the brooch from the knight and holds it out as he stepped forward.


    "Your Grace.", Lurter says as he focuses his attention on the king.


    The king steps close and attaches the brooch onto Lurter''s tunic. The brooch is made of silver and is carved into the image of a man with many eyes and ears on his face while holding a quill and paper on each of it''s hands.


    "This silver brooch signifies that you are one of my many eyes and ears. With this brooch, people might think twice before trying to give you any troubles in your pursuit of information.", the king said.


    "Thank you for your trust, your Grace.", Lurter politely bows as the king stepped away. Finally, the soldier handed them a bag of gold coins, in which Lurter happily took and placed in his pockets.


    "You two cannot do this alone. That should be enough money to buy you a few companions along the way.", the king added. "Take care on your journey, you two."


    The two of them nodded and they were about to take their leave, when suddenly, a little girl''s cries echoed along with heavy steps.


    "Noooo!!!", she whined, her tears dropping onto the floor as she whined and ran towards Orewell, holding him for a hug. Lurter can''t help but feel bad for her, having to see someone close to her leave...it''s the same feeling he had when his brother, who was supposed to go out on his studies was killed by pirates.


    "There, there, Amelie...", Orewell spoke softly, gently patting the little girl on the head. "I''ll be gone for a short while, but I''ll be back. I promise.", he whispered.


    "No!!!", she continued to whine, holding him even tighter. "No one will play with me if you leave, big brother!", she added as she continued to cry.


    Orewell sighs. "Do you trust me?", he asks softly, kneeling down to meet her at eye level.


    Surprisingly, that question managed to calm her down at the very least. "I...I do, brother. I love you too. A lot.", she meekly whispers in between her slowly calming breath.


    "Then...please trust me on this one, okay? I promise, I''ll write letters to you during my travels and then we''ll play a lot when I get home. Okay?", Orewell asks with a small smile.


    Still sniffling through her tears, and with no more words left to say, she nodded and tipped her toes to kiss her half-brother on the cheek before letting her go. "Take care.", is all she managed to utter as she inevitably let him go.


    "I will.", he reassured and stood up, glancing at Lurter. Lurter replied with a nod, and soon, they left the castle''s halls and stepped out of its gates as their journey to investigate the Sords began...

 A View of the Known World. Part One: The North and the West, V. Cylwork, Year 347

    Foreword:


    ''Here in this book, I, Vendryn Cylwork, will document the history of the Known World, both Divios and Unio alike. I have left this book in the Great Library of Solsari for all to read and study, scholar or commoner alike. I may not be alive to see the completion of this series, but I pray to the Many Gods that more and more will continue this book in a collaborative effort for the next generation. The first part consists of the book consists of the histories of the North and the West, more volumes will be written later after more research. Glory to the King!''


    THE YEARS BEFORE DIVIOS


    Divios, as we know it today are built upon the ashes of the noble rebellion of our benevolent and gracious king, King Illain of House Poynt. However, many years, no, centuries, before him, Divios were made of five kingdoms that were their own individual kingdoms ruled by their own kings and queens and waged war against one another. These were the kingdoms of the North; cold and mountainous, the West; full of desert sands but were rich in minerals, the South; full of lush greenery which are perfect for farming, the East; the Sea of Peace allows for trade with the neighboring country, Unio, thus the East is almost as rich as the West is, and finally, the Center; is an amalgamation of migrants from it''s neighbors thus never having an identity of its own and sometimes, the local population fights amongst each other because of their differences that led to destructive civil wars.


    THE NORTH


    In the icy north lies its capital, Bredost, the seat of House Ays. It is a mountainous land, thick with snow that accumulates to seven feet high during very strong winters. Before House Ays sat at Bredost, the city was once ruled by the king Reedvern Belginwrath and his kingdom of Temafatun. The Belginwraths are powerful and proud and firm believers of loyalty, justice and tradition. Their history dates back to five hundred and eighty-nine years before the first Diviosi king, Marthis Rivermay the sixth of his name, united the warring realms under his banner. During those years, king Reedvern waged war against the West and Center, gaining lands but losing them immediately as his men waved his banner. Despite constantly waging war that sometimes lasted decades on end, they remained prosperous due to the hard work of his ministers and commanders. Out of the five kingdoms that warred, they were the longest to last. Ironically, they fell because of their own principles, pride and power and loyalty and justice. At the waning years of their reign, three hundred fifty-one years before king Rivermay''s reign, the current Temafatunian king, Deevlyn Belginwrath, third of his name, in a campaign at the Centerlands, the Belginwrath army was defeated and on their retreat back to the North. However, at the gates of Bredost, the banners of House Ays are already flying, the Temafatunian Kingdom''s banners are falling and burning into the ground. And at the command of the current Lord of House Ays, Orehearn Ays, the archers aimed their bows and let the arrows loose at the defeated king''s army, thus usurping the Temafatunian crown for House Ays. At the aftermath of Lord, now King Orehearn Ays'' massacre, he wed himself to the late king''s child daughters to prevent rebellion from the lords loyal to king Deevlyn. The daughters, soon after giving birth to King Orehearn''s children, were locked in a tower and were forced to try and catch birds to eat for the rest of their days. The eldest daughter, Myran, aged fifteen, was trying to catch a bird that landed on the tower''s window. However, she leapt and missed a step, thus falling from the high tower, leading to her death. The next daughters, twins, aged twelve, were greeted with greater misfortune. The younger twin, Viviana, after days of starvation and deliriousness took a bite of her older twin Viliana''s shoulder . Due to the pain, Viliana took a nearby rock and struck her younger twin over the head that killed her instantly. Because of the guilt and pain and grief of accidentally killing her beloved twin, Viliana nestled her younger twin''s limp body in her arms and gave her bleeding head a kiss before she leapt at the window, following after their eldest sister Myran that died the same way days prior. The kingdom and the family that formed that kingdom, that once prided itself with loyalty, justice and power, were now destroyed and extinguished from the face of the world, only remembered by the scholars and lore-masters.


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    THE WEST


    In the west of Divios lies the sandy deserts, full of mounds and dunes of sand and mountains of sandstone. It is full of rich gold and mineral deposits, working to the full advantage of its ruler. Before House Koyn of today, the Westlands were ruled by the Aurorian Kingdom, led by Queen Vicronia Antivorch. From the capital of the Westlands, Zenirae was ruled by the benevolent queen. Once a kingdom that prospered through trade, Auroria was dragged into war when its merchants were constantly attacked by the Temafatunian raiders from it''s northern neighbors. Queen Vicronia once tried the peaceful approach to try and come to terms with a peaceful solution to their problem. However, King Reedvern mainly ignored her and continued the raid upon her merchants. Seeing it as an insult, even if her nation is not forged by battle, she declared war against Temafatun nonetheless...much to the world''s surprise as they held themselves quite well, winning battle after battle against her northern neighbors who were forged and battered by war. Half a decade into their war with the Temafatuns of the north, an envoy from the kingdom of the Centerlands to her east, the kingdom of Canol, arrived at her castle bearing a message. The Canolian king, Grym Potentis wishes to form an alliance with her through a marriage alliance between the two of them. For years, Canol has been warring with Temafatun to the north, thus aligning the interests of both kingdoms. Queen Vicronia was a widow after her dear husband Acerbitam Antivorch died years prior to her reign in an ambush. She then called all her council, lords and ladies who were loyal to her banner who were her ministers that helped run the kingdom. The discussion ran short as the majority were in agreement to the queen''s marriage to the Canolian king as a desperate plea of help for aid against their northern enemies. However, within her council, she has a lover, the young lord Vidua of the minor house of Factorem. She knew that Lord Vidua listening to her being wed to another man would hurt him, but it was her duty to do. Her options were simple, marry king Acerbitam and live or perish. With ache in her heart for herself and her lover, she called the Canolian envoy and gave her reply, agreeing to the marriage alliance. She was then wed to king Acerbitam at the twentieth day of the seventh month, five hundred eighty-four years before King Marthis Rivermay''s reign. Many of the lords from the Westlands and Centerlands attended the royal union between the two kingdoms. However, her wedding dinner turned into a tragedy. Lord Vidua, filled with resentment and heartbreak, posed as a Canolian soldier went to Queen Vicronia and stabbed her with a dagger through the throat, killing her instantly in front of the many guests and her king. The young heartbroken lord was immediately slain by the actual Canolian guards and his body dropped next to the dead queen''s as he bled out. Instead of fear for his impending death, he was happy. As his lover had promised him, she will belong to him until death, and him hers. Queen Antivorch''s lords were enraged as the Canolian soldier slayed their queen and a brawl ensued between the soldiers of the Aurarian kingdom and Canol, men dying left and right. After the brawl, the lords loyal to the dead queen returned to Auraria and rallied all the men they can muster in a war of revenge against the kingdom of Canol who trespassed against them and murdered their beloved queen. For the next twenty years, the directionless kingdom of Auraria fought a seemingly unending war with the kingdom to their east and at the five hundred sixty-fourth year before King Marthis Rivermay''s reign, the kingdom of Auroria had no more fighting men left to muster and their kingdom was vulnerable to the Temafatunian kingdom to the north, and in one long march, the capital of Auroria, Zenirae, fell to king Reedvern''s army. Citizens fell and died on the streets, trampled by the hooves of sprinting horses and the marches of heavily armored men. The then Aurorian young princess, Mayheart Antivorch, aged nineteen was captured at the castle by King Reedvern himself. She was already prepared for whatever cruelty the northern king will inflict on her, yet she was given mercy. All who were close to her were spared, her friends, her handmaids and her cousins were all granted mercy by the king. She was wed to the young Temafatunian prince, Aurax Belginwrath, who also treated her well. She was not treated like a hostage from a fallen kingdom, she was treated like a proper lady and princess and eventually, she fell in love with prince Aurax and bore his children, birthing five children within the three years, twins and triplets, all girls. Since then, although an Antivorch sat at the Aurorian throne, Belginwraths were the ones truly ruling the fallen and rebuilding kingdom. More than two centuries later, the kingdom of Temafatun, once ruled by Belginwraths was usurped due to a betrayal by one of it''s lords, Lord Orehearn Ays, and along with it, Auroria fell. All of the lords loyal to the later generations of Antivorch and Belginwraths were massacred and were replaced by the lords loyal to House Ays...

 Orewell IV

    ''Where is this?'', Orewell thought to himself as he looked at the unfamiliar horizon in front of him. It was white with thick snow, thicker than he''s experienced in his fourteen years of life in Divios. It feels...unnaturally cold yet also warm, like the snow itself was a blanket that keeps him warm as his feet stood at the quarter-foot of snow. His eyes wandered around the white plains, he noticed that the plants and trees are too...green. The leaves from the plants and trees remain bright green which is quite peculiar because leaves usually fall from trees by fall and winter. As he pondered about his thoughts, he felt a soft sensation wrap around his waist and a figure shorter than him, only standing until below his neck, pressed against his back.


    "Is something bothering you, dear husband?", a girl''s voice asks. It sounds...calm and soothing, like the passing of the water of a creek during a relatively calm season. "You seem lost in thought, you''re worrying our children", the voice adds.


    He doesn''t respond first, keeping his confusion to himself so as to not worry whoever the girl behind him is. This girl...is calling him her dear husband. He already knew that something was wrong. He was fourteen, although old enough to work and be wed, he''s not particularly the kind of man that girls would want to be their husband. He continued thinking some more until the presence on his back pressed her lips on his shoulder and began to whisper.


    "Hello? Norour to Orewell?", she repeats. "I''m talking to you, dear husband", she adds, a pout on her face.


    "Apologies, dear wife", he says as he turned around to look down at her shorter figure. She was wearing furs that a person would wear during a summer or spring...yet here she is, wearing clothes that doesn''t seem to be too concerned about the fact that it''s winter now. Her hair is quite long, running down until her elbows and are let down without braids of any kind. "What were you saying?", he asks, a somewhat polite smile on his face which garnered a pout from her.


    "You always call me by name", she says sulkily.


    ''I call you by name?'', he thought to himself. ''I will if I knew your name...or who you are, for that matter.''


    "It seems like you forgot...", she sighs. "And you keep me calling me your dearest too...", she sighs again. "It''s Robyn Rivermay. If you forgot again. Your one and only Robyn. Your sweet Robyn, as you say."


    At that revelation, he surprisingly did a very good job at hiding his surprise. Robyn Rivermay...from what he knows, she''s the eldest surviving child of House Rivermay''s lord, Lord Hubert Rivermay. He''s still confused...but whatever, he supposes. He''ll just go through with it.


    "Apologies", he replies with a small, polite nod. "My...sweet Robyn", he mutters the last part softly. Just saying it...it feels out of character for him. It feels...soft. Is this how he''s going to be when he''s older? With a small sigh, he asks, "You spoke of our children. Where are they?"


    "They''re in the castle. Your sister Amelie is looking after them", Robyn replies. "They''re waiting for you. Come. Before they start whining", she adds, almost impatient as she practically drags him into the castle. As they walk inside, people greet them with smiles and nods, like they were very familiar and fond of their presence. Robyn did mention that he was a king...and if they''re wed, it''s fair to assume she''s his queen. The land they''re stepping on...it feels foreign to him and he can already tell that, ''This is not Divios. This is not home'', he thought. Yet as he walked, despite knowing that something is indeed wrong, that he does not belong here, he feels...calm. His mind feels oddly clear and sharp, as if nothing unusual was going on. Multiple thoughts and sensations entered his mind and left it just as fast, everything from the cool air, to Robyn''s soft hands holding his own and the sound of the wet crunch of dirt and gravel with every step they took. It all entered and left his head and processing it with unusual speeds, faster than all the scholars in Divios combined. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when Robyn spoke again.


    "We''re here", she says. He blinks his eyes to recollect himself and saw himself in an unfamiliar castle ground, and saw a banner with a sigil that invoked some paradoxical feelings within him. It feels familiar yet unfamiliar at the same time. A grey sword on a field of black with a deep blue eye at the socket in the pommel.


    "Robyn", Orewell calls to ask his supposed wife about the meaning of the banner that hung from the ramparts of the castle and at the end of the guard''s pikes but...for some reason, he felt like he already knew. He shook his head and waved his hand dismissively. "Nevermind. Just take me to the children", he says with a soft sigh as he lets Robyn guide him. ''Grey'', he thought to himself. ''A northern bastard''s name, an insult. Yet I wore it with pride, an insult to my fellow bastards. But for me, it was not only because I was the son of the noble lord and overseer of the North. No. But it''s because a symbol of my freedom. I am not pressured with the woes of politics and lordship because I have no right to inherit...or at least that woman Catherine would not let me. And now...here I am, holding a woman''s hand that shares my name. Life...is a beautiful thing sometimes. I was born out of wedlock, yet here I am, wed and with a family of my own.'', he mused. ''A grey sword in black...grey. A color of dullness, but also signifies sturdiness. Black is most commonly understood as a color of darkness and evil...but it can also mean renewal, redemption. A black canvas, if painted well, will look great with other colors. It will be a hard task, most would consider impossible, but with enough willpower, can be done. The blue eye at that sees all. Put together, the sigil of my house is a sturdy redemption with an eye that sees all to guide it.''


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    His musings, however, was interrupted by Robyn once more...with quite a rude slap to the face. It stings, but he can''t bring himself to react...for it does not hurt him enough to warrant so.


    "What is it?", he asks his pouting wife.


    "You...my dear husband, are very out of it. Did you drink heavy with Lurter again?", she asks him. "Ever since I found you standing at the fields, you feel distant. Is something wrong?", she asks, her put replaced with a concerned frown.


    "No, my dear wife", he reassured. "I''m certainly fine. Just...tired, I suppose.", he smiled and wrapped an arm around her shoulder, pulling her close and plants a gentle kiss on her forehead.


    "Truly?", she asks, looking up at him.


    "Aye, truly", he answers. "Upon my father''s name."


    As he reassured her, she finally pushed herself away from him, gesturing towards a sturdy and tall-looking door. "The children are here", she told him. "They''re waiting for you."


    He nods at her and went inside the room, seeing two children playing on the floor with one another, two girls. ''Two daughters? Gods be good to have mercy on me...'', he told himself, sighing as the two children approached him. By their small stature, he''ll guess these two girls are no older than five. His father Felkin told him being at war was easier than looking after Amelie and Mayne.


    "Father", the older girl calls. Her name rung to him. ''Berylyn'', then the younger, ''Aileryn''.


    "Berylyn", he says with a smile. Despite the odd situation he finds himself in. He feels strangely connected and fond of this girl who threw herself at him in his arms. "How are you?", he asks.


    "Well, father", she replies with a smile on her face. It might be hyperbolic to say, but her smile can probably make a flower bloom quicker with how bright it is. "I missed you lots though! You were suddenly gone this morning!", she whines.


    "Apologies", he says with a small chuckle, kissing the girl''s forehead. "Perhaps...I just needed that cold air in my systems.", he joked.


    "You just left! Aileryn was worried that you''ll leave us", Berylyn whined.


    "That''s...pretty negative, don''t you think?", he asks his daughter. He''s not sure what kind of person the future him is...but if his daughters think this...then he''ll say it''s not a good one.


    As Berylyn continued talking, her voice began to fade out from his ears as he began to lose consciousness and everything soon went to black until he woke up again, with Lurter''s face hovering above his, his untamed white hair and prismarine eyes fitting Lurter''s feminine-looking face all too familiar to him under the orange hue of the flickering campfire under the night.


    "Oh...and here I thought you were dead", Lurter says with a small, disappointed sigh.


    "Yes, good evening to you too", Orewell sarcastically greets. "Is there a particular reason why your face is so close to mine or do you just fancy on pouncing at a sleeping man?"


    "Nay. You looked still in your sleep. Too still, immovable", he answers. "I thought you were dying in your sleep or something...which would be a great shame."


    "Well it''s nice to see you too", he banters, sighing softly.


    Orewell and Lurter continued to chatter idly in under the dark of night and the campfire''s light, the memories...vivid visions or whatever they are still fresh in Orewell''s mind...

 En Chan II

    Two weeks have passed since Orewell left in his journey to assist his good friend Lurter in unravelling the current crimes of House Sord.


    One evening, Chan has been exchanging letters with Orewell since he left. Currently, she''s in her chambers, sitting on a chair in front of her table with a candle by the side. Her messages were delivered by an asianti which meant an agent in Uniosi tongue. The name of the said asianti is Daiwen. Daiwen claimed that she was sent by her real father, the Uniosi emperor, En He. Her purpose is to negotiate for Chan to be released by the Ays'', and by extension, Divios, as if she doesn''t return to Unios, the country will surely plunge into chaos for the now dying En He is without legitimate heirs aside from Chan. Without her at the Uniosi throne, false claimants from the Uniosi emperor''s bastards will all rise and wage war amongst each other and leave the country in ruins.


    As Chan wrote her letter, she thought about Daiwel''s presence. She wants to bring her back to her home...but at this very moment, Chan doesn''t know where home is. She was still a crying child when she was taken captive in Divios. But for all she knows, her home is in Divios, with the only family she knew being Lord Felkin and Orewell. From the moment she was able to speak about what she sees, all she was surrounded by an endless blanket of cold and white that stretched for what she thinks is the entirety of the North, she has never set foot too far from Bredost. The farthest she went to was a farm to the southwest of Bredost where Felkin took her, along with his eldest son Glen to resolve some feud between farmers.


    "That''s right...I was about to be wed to Lord Felkin''s eldest son...", she muttered to herself, remembering a conversation she overheard between Felkin and the king who still stayed at Bredost after the happenings from two weeks ago. Why they''re still here at this very moment? She doesn''t know, especially since the other lords that came already left as well. Though she does not understand why she needs to be wed to Glen. By all means, he''s her younger brother. Perhaps this is something that she can talk with Daiwen later on...and by her luck.


    "My princess", a woman''s voice spoke. It has a thick accent with a higher than normal pitch. Daiwen''s voice. "Here is a letter that my messengers received from the Orewell fellow."


    Chan then took the letter in her hand, examining the second letter that came from Orewell, the boy that she has a close bond with. Perhaps because they''re one in the same. They''re both outcasts in within the group they call a family, except Orewell''s was more obviously so, Lady Catherine made sure of it. She berated and denounced an innocent child that had no woman to call his mother. Lord Felkin was busy with his lordly duties and other affairs to even give a glance to anybody outside of his immediate sight. ''Maybe that''s why he grew up to be the way he is now'', Chan thought, mindlessly caressing the paper''s fiber. ''Cold and quiet...but quick to anger, yet...he seems to desperately try be kind to others when nobody but a select few was to him. He was a lord''s bastard. A creation born from Lord Felkin''s sin. And now, he has to live like it. Like he deserves nothing in the world except the worst just because his father could not hold himself...'' But before her thoughts could go deeper than they already are, she felt Daiwel''s touch on her shoulder.


    "My princess, would you...not read the letter?", she asks, curious.


    "Perhaps later.", Chen replied, placing the letter back down on the table.


    Daiwen nodded. "If that''s the case, then might I report to you a different matter?", she asks as respectfully as she always did when speaking to her. Then Chan nodded, allowing Daiwen to continue on. She reached from her satchel and handed a scroll, encased in leather and protected by jade seals from both ends. "A report from my fellow asianti on the east coast. This arrived just yesterday and it''s an urgent message.", she said, removing one of the jade seals and taking the scroll inside the case.


    She cleared her throat before reading in a soft voice, "Our fellow asianti stationed in the North have received word that some of the noble lords sworn to House Ays is plotting a rebellion after the death of Ser Lorel''s death. I believe that this is revenge for the knight''s demise and the growing discontent among the minor lords. I still do not know the validity of this report, but it''s important to note that a mercenary group known as the Free Fangs are also talking about being hired by northern lords who were mustering their troops in preparation. Though there''s a possibility of falsehood, we advise that you take Princess Chan to a safe place away from Bredost. Blood may spill in both sides...", then Daiwen stopped to look through her satchel once more. It''s another letter and she read it as well. "Our different asiantis that are scattered throughout the north are reporting various information about who may be on this conspiracy. The prime suspect is Lord Rookrinn Dert, the lord of Steadstrong, seat of House Dert. Apparently, he''s been gathering strength through mercenary armies along with his own. This may be connected to the slowed shipment of sturdsteelwood to the capital, he may be using this to trade and pay for the mercenaries, one of which are the Free Fangs. Second, Lord Gedric Hollowtrace. The asiantis posed at their seat, Yearntrue, have not discerned any information regarding to House Hollowtrace''s motives for joining in the rebellion although they theorize that Lord Rookrinn promised them treasures and lands from the remains of House Ays after their rebellion. There are many more minor houses that are also involved but at the moment, most of the information gathered are still unverifiable and would take some time to be confirmed if bad things have not started happening already."


    "I see...", Chan muttered. "And the trigger for it is Orewell killing Ser Dert during the trial by combat nights ago...", she paused and let out a sigh. "Seems to me that he''s just making an excuse to rebel against his liege lord."


    "So it seems...", Daiwen agreed.


    "Thank you for informing me", Chan said with a smile, rolling the scroll over and putting it back on its case. "You''re dismissed, Daiwen. I''ll inform Lord Felkin of this."


    And so Chan exited her chambers with the scroll in her hand.


    Descending downstairs from her chambers, her steps echoed in the silence of her own thoughts. As she arrived downstairs, she was snapped out of it when she saw Lord Felkin''s eldest son, Glen. He was standing there with a sullen look on his face.


    "Is something troubling you, my lord?", she finally asked, approaching him as he stood by wall at the end of the staircase, leaning back.


    Her question caught his attention, causing him to look at her.


    "Tell me...Chan...", he mutters softly, keeping his words slow as he articulated his thoughts. "I saw Daiwen talking to someone dressed strangely. They look like they''re meant to not be seen. Why is that?"


    "I...", she stutters, struggling to articulate her thoughts. But before she can continue, she was cut off once more.


    "Agents from different houses throughout the North that those people are scattered and are keeping watch", he paused before speaking again after letting out another sigh. "Know that I take no pleasure in this...", he says, glaring at her. "But for the love you bear for my brother, please, tell me why you have agents spying on our territory. If you cannot provide me an acceptable reason...then as the son of Lord Felkin Ays, Overseer of the North, and as the heir to Bredost, I will have to do my duty and put you under arrest."


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    She gulped, nervous. It would be a severe understatement to say that she''s nervous. How could she even explain herself at this point? Agents who work for Daiwen are all over the North and there are probably more down south too...


    As she continued thinking about what she could possibly say to save herself, footsteps echoed from behind her and caused her to turn around. It was Daiwen.


    "My Lord", Daiwen greets as she arrived downstairs. "If you allow it, I''ll answer in her stead."


    As Daiwen approached Glen, she can feel something slipped into the pocket of her clothes. "Leave this to me, My Princess.", she simply whispered and gestured for Chan to leave. And so she did, leaving the staircase and eventually the castle itself, passing by the handmaidens and workers as she passed them. Outside, she sighed softly as she continued walking, her thoughts wandering to how Daiwen would deal with the situation. As she walked, everything else feels nerve wracking...she feels so sensitive that she can feel every pebble, every grain of dirt and gravel, the cold breeze of the northern wind...


    "I wish you were here...", she muttered to herself, letting out a heavy sigh and looked upwards towards the sky. "Are you doing well, Orewell...?", she continued. "I hope you are..."


    She continued walking through the streets of Bredost, still deep in her own thoughts and feelings when she was interrupted by a hooded figure.


    "My Princess, please come with me. I''ll reveal myself...but not here. Come", the figure says, holding her by her wrist and taking her through the alleys in the city, making turns until they arrived a secret passage through the walls that led outside the city. Now outside Bredost, she felt herself helped onto a horse by said hooded figure as they began to ride away. During the ride, they made stops here and there, but eventually, about four or five hours later, they eventually arrived at a strange looking castle ruins. No banners hung from the battlements and she can only count less than twenty people manning the castle.


    Arriving at the stables, she dismounted her horse and guided it towards its stall then turned towards the hooded figure. "Where are we?", she asks. "I...I''m not familiar with this place."


    "Forgive me for the delay, My Princess. We are at the ruins of Castle Marrowtin, former seat of the extinct house of House Vangrove...or so the folk told us, we''re not sure", the figure said, unhooding itself and revealed a man with an unkempt face and square jaw, a short but bushy beard. "I''m one of the many asianti tasked to retrieve you.", he answered with a smile.


    "Retrieve me?", Chan asked back, confused.


    "Yes. I believe Daiwen told you about what may conspire.", he replied.


    "So...it''s true, then? That the minor lords of the North will rebel against their liege?"


    The man nodded.


    "At this very moment, some of them are almost complete with their preparations. Some of those in the farther north have already mustered their forces and will arrive in a few fortnights."


    "We must warn Lord Felkin then!", she exclaimed.


    "No. Our task is to retrieve you and take you home. You have been here for long enough, My Princess. You cannot bother yourself with foreign affairs when you have a greater problem at home. Your father, the emperor, is on his deathbed. Your bastard siblings are all consolidating their power bases and beginning to muster their armies to clash with each other when your father finally dies. If we retrieved you earlier, we could have gone for a more peaceful solution...but now...you have no choice but only war."


    She gulped. Her home...this man just told her that her home would be a battleground for her siblings that she never knew about until just this day who all want to vie for the Uniosi throne. But she does not know how to feel. To her, Bredost is home. Divios. She only heard about Unios from the stories her foster father Lord Felkin and from the books in the library of Bredost. Is she really prepared to go to war for a country she''s never stepped into all her life?


    Before she could drown further in her thoughts, the man continued. "This is not a matter if you want to or not, but a matter of you have to. It is your duty to your home and your family. I do not know what these western devils taught you but Unios is your home and it will be until you take your last breath. If you do not get back home and assert yourself, the country will surely fall into ruin, ruled by divided lords that want different things and will continue to impose themselves until their competitors die...or them or the subjects do."


    Looking at the blended orange-purple sky then back at her, the man spoke once more. "We''ll stay the night here and continue south tomorrow morning. After then, we''ll head east to Gruelport. It will be days and days of riding so steel yourself, My Princess."


    "...alright.", she simply muttered as one of the other asianti guided her to her chambers within the castle. The castle itself was old, with some decaying structures and one of the towers at the other end of the castle is already leaning on the other tower and could almost fall with a single gust of wind or so. The interior itself isn''t any better. It''s old and decrepit, gathering dust over the years that the inhabitants, if there were, never bothered to clean. Taken into her chambers, the asianti bid her good night and left her be. She turned around and absorbed her surroundings. This room is strangely clean and well maintained, the furniture is not polished but it''s well maintained nonetheless. The bed''s sheets also look recently done as well.


    Sitting down on the mattress, she took the letter that Daiwen placed in her pocket. It was the same envelope in which Orewell''s letter is stored in. However, the seal was broken. Chan opened the envelope and saw that there are two letters inside. She then took the first letter and it is Orewell''s letter to her. It''s the same usual greetings and him asking if she''s doing well at home, checking on Amelie and some small stuff about himself and what he''s currently doing and where he''s at. Currently, they''re in Heavenhill, a hill range that serves as the natural border between the North and Westlands and leads to Heavenbright, the seat of House Rivermay. So far, their journey is without delay, but Orewell, being his pessimistic and cynical self claims that it won''t be long until something bad indeed happens in their journey. Still, she prays to the Many Gods that it would not be so and all will go well.


    The second letter is from Daiwen. It reads:


    "My Princess. Serving you has been a great pleasure and by the time you read this, I may be a captive or dead, probably both, but I wish you luck. Though you have never met them, trust the asianti. They will certainly get you home, I swear on my name and my family that served the Royal House of En. When you get home, many officers are waiting for you. Follow their advice that are wise and true and surely you can subjugate the pretenders and traitors to the throne.


    Regards from your loyal servant,


    Daiwen"


    She sighed again, placing the letters on the bedside table and laid on the bed, resting on its softness to alleviate the weariness from the hours of riding. All of this was sudden and she doesn''t even know what to think at this moment. One day, she was living and doing her duties as Lord Felkin''s ward and an apothecary, but now, she''s thrust into a conflict for a throne that she never saw or sat on her entire life and for a kingdom she didn''t even breathe the same air or step on the same ground. There is a conspiracy that threatens to ruin the North... She feels helpless and suffocated at the happenings that not even prayer doesn''t seem to help her like it usually does. She can only mutter out, "When will you come back, Orewell? Help me, please..."

 Larene III

    It has been a month since Larene arrived in Bredost with her family, yet despite that much time she still could not get used to how cold it is. Every step that she took outside echoed with the slush of snow and it is starting to annoy her now. She does not understand why her father tends to the realm''s affairs in one end of Divios instead of their home in Solsari, but she did not think much of it any further as she was snapped out of her thoughts with the voice of soldiers dragging a group of armed men that bore a black banner. If she remembers well, this is the second group that was arrested this week. Another defining feature of the captured men are the black scarves on their heads. The Black Scarves, they call themselves. They claim to be fighters for justice but all they did was spread chaos.


    "Bloodshed...", she muttered to herself. "Why must they rebel? They live peaceful lives, they are not taxed more than they make and they are well protected..."


    More and more men, about fifty as she continued counting, were taken captive. Their hands and waists bound together by ropes as they are led by a soldier to where she could only assume is to Lord Felkin''s halls.


    "Why are you out here on your own, Your Highness?", a young man''s voice asked.


    She turned around. It was Glen. His figure always struck her as creepy because he looked like a younger version of her uncle Felkin in every sense. His only resemblance of Lady Catherine is his green eyes that seemed to shine brighter than hers.


    "Ah. Just clearing my mind, don''t mind me, My Lord.", she answered with a polite smile.


    She doesn''t really know how her family is related to the Ays'' but she can remember her teacher saying once when she was a child that her father grew to deeply respect Lord Felkin and they have sworn an oath of brotherhood with another man that she forgot the name of but remembers enough that he was one of the three men that rose up against the tyranny of House Angr and died in the campaigns by the end of the war.


    "Is something worrying you?", he asks again. "The Black Scarves, perhaps?"


    She nodded. "Maybe so. But...I''m worried about someone more than something", she paused. "I''m thinking about how Orewell is faring right now. If the Black Scarves are really as widespread as the agents say, then it won''t be long until he encountered one and--"


    "Let me stop you there, Your Highness", Glen interrupted her. "I don''t believe this mob of peasants will be the one to kill my little brother", he paused, shaking his head. "He''s not a great fighter but he''s tough as an anvil. Ever since he was a child, he attracted one misfortune after the other. And those misfortunes made him grow stronger. He already survived multiple near-death experiences, I don''t believe this one would be the one to do him in."


    She smiled. "I hope you''re right."


    "Trust me on this one, Your Highness", he smiled back. "As he put it, he wants to spite my mother by being alive and he''ll do it for as long as it takes. He swore that to me. And he never breaks promises."


    "Still. I''m confused about these Black Scarves", she says, her eyes following the line of men that eventually left her view as they were taken away. "They already have peaceful lands, fair taxes and protection from bandits. Why would they trade it away to be brigands?"


    "Who knows?", he replies. "The most prominent theory according to the council meetings is there is or are lord or lords assisting these rebels, be it funding, training, supplying or all of the above. But so far, no lords have been proven to be disloyal yet so they can''t say for sure. That or those lords are really good at hiding."


    "But why would they?", she asks. "It doesn''t make sense. We just achieved a decade and a half of peace because of my father''s rule. Why would they want to undermine that?"


    "Personally, I think there are just sick bastards who enjoy seeing blood. Or maybe they''re trying to say something that we just could not understand yet", Glen sighs. "Whichever it is, it is still our duty to uphold the king''s peace and justice."


    Larene nodded in agreement. "Yes. Though I hope this conflict comes to a peaceful resolution..."


    "That depends on them.", he simply replied. "I''ll be taking my leave now, Your Highness. I''ll go check on our...foreign friend." He said before he stepped away from Larene and left, leaving Larene to her own thoughts, her eyes wandering down to the townsfolk of Bredost who carried on with their affairs. Children played, men worked labor and women tended to harvested crops. It made her smile and wish to herself that this peace continues. But she knows she can''t be naive. She is the princess of Bredost, heir to her father. Soon, all these people will be hers to rule and she cannot let naivete cloud her. She was taught that there are times for kindness and times for firmness...and this Black Scarf rebels are the example of the firmness needed from her.


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    Before she could get deeper into her thoughts, she shook her head and decided to have a walk.


    "It''s not just the Black Scarf rebels...", she muttered to herself, her head cast down as her feet dug through the quarter foot of snow. "The Angr woman is also a cause of concern...", she sighed, her mind wandering back weeks before, all that happened. And the trial by combat...Ser Dert''s body that quivered and struggled when Orewell dug his hands into his head and crushed it...no blood spilled on her but it felt real all the same. That woman is back...and her father feared that she is out there raising an army and forging alliances to retake the throne that he usurped from her tyrant father. "Would she?", she asked herself.


    Understanding that she won''t get anywhere, she decided to just go back to the castle and listen in on the council meeting. If her memory serves her correct, the council meeting is about the Black Scarf rebels. She figured she might learn something new.


    In the halls of the castle that she was all too familiar with at this point, two soldiers held a man down who''s clad in leather armor and a black scarf wrapped around his head. Her father sat on a throne as he looked down at the captive while Lord Felkin sat beside him, looking at the man with a stoic gaze. The man spoke a litany of curses, to the king and to Divios as a whole. She guessed that her father wanted to talk to the man but seeing him this uncooperative just made him sigh and he gestured for the guards to send the man away. As he was being dragged back to the cells below the castle, the man yelled, "The age of the yellow sky is over! It is now time for the black sky to rise!", and he broke into maniacal laughter as his voice became smaller with each passing moment.


    "Father.", she called out, catching both her father and Lord Felkin''s attention. Despite her calm face, she can only guess that her father can still sense a tinge of worry in her as he beckoned for her to come closer.


    "Tell me, Larene", her father spoke, gesturing her to stand at his side. "What do you think we should do with that man?"


    As she stood next to him, she caught Lord Felkin''s gaze on her, as if he was silently studying and judging her. ''Is this a test of my wisdom?'', she thought to herself. ''This seems to be a bad time for such...''


    With every fleeting moment that she spent to mull over what to do, Lord Felkin suddenly spoke. "Your Highness", he called with his stern voice. "I mean not to rush you, but in such time as this, one cannot afford to hesitate. I trust that this can grow into a crisis soon if not acted upon immediately."


    She gulped. She knew he was right. For all she knows, the Black Scarves could be wreaking havoc elsewhere, devastating villages and killing the commonfolk...but thinking on the spot is just too much.


    "My daughter", her father called. "I know this situation is difficult. Believe me, it is. But this is what it means to rule. To make hard decisions when the time calls for it. You don''t have the luxury of thinking for a long time and you must think of something before everything gets worse beyond your control."


    Larene gulped again. She knew her father was right. As he said, she many situations may arise where she may not have time if any at all to think for a solution. After thinking for a while, she finally answered. "I think our first course of action is to call for a council meeting, gather information from the spymaster and use said information to inform the master of war in order to get the best course of action. If need be, inform the master of finance and master of statecraft as well. They might provide us less destructive alternatives to this growing crisis", she paused to look up at her father, as if seeking reassurance. "Is that right, father?"


    The king smiled. "Aye. That''s wise. Many-a-time, there will be times where you would not know what to do. In which case, that is when you rely on the council to seek advice for action. However, debate might take some time and the urgency of the matter means we could not rely on them right now", he replied, his face grew stern. "A good attempt, my daughter. Right now though, we will have to deal with them now before they to be a bigger problem."


    "Brother", her father called as he looked at Lord Felkin. "I suppose this is goodbye", he said as he stood up. "By the end of this week, we will take our leave and go back to Solsari so I can deal with this better. It seems like even after a month of persuading you to ride south with me, you still seem adamant to stay", he laughed. "Rally your lords and deal with the rebels in the North. I''ll send letters to the lords of the other regions to do the same."


    Her father then left and went to his office which left Larene with Lord Felkin. "Is war the only choice, My Lord?", she asks Lord Felkin.


    "I hope not. But as it is, aye. More people will die if we don''t uproot these rebel scum.", Lord Felkin answered as he also stood to make his way to his office. "Think long and wise, Your Highness." Those were the final words she heard from him as he left her alone.


    Sighing to herself, she left the castle again. The blanket of white greeted her as it had for the past month, and they will have to leave it soon...and it scares her. Before, everything was just fine and now, their country will be plunged into war once more.


    As her eyes looked up at the dull sky, the man''s words echoed in her mind.


    "The age of the yellow sky is over and it is now time for the black sky to rise..."