《The Vanquisher of Kings Trilogy (Non-LitRPG)》


 Prologue

    The morning fog veiled two silhouettes standing on the upland. The taller figure, a muscular Celestian man in a green tunic held a wooden sword with ease. A ten-year-old boy took a straddle position, facing his older opponent. He gripped his sword with thick leather gloves, shifting from foot to foot. Strands of his golden hair stuck to his sweaty forehead and his waist-long ponytail resembled a jagged broom. His breath trembled, and his pupils dilated so much that his turquoise eyes became almost completely black. His pointy ears tensed up, listening out for every sound.


    Clumps of yellow grass and leafless berries poked out of the brown moss. They lazily wobbled whenever the faint wind blew around the nearby mountains and hills. Leaves of the tree behind the boy rustled and waved. Even though the spring has just begun, The Evergreen Tree still glistened with vivid green.


    The boy charged. His opponent lifted his sword and trotted forward. A dull clack echoed among the hills. Holding his weapon above his chest, the boy blocked the stroke. Feeling a little tremble in his leg, he relaxed his grip for a second. That was enough for the man to push his sword down. The boy recoiled and froze in a defensive position. With his mouth open, he glanced upwards at his opponent. Wiping the drops of sweat, the man swept aside his shoulder-length, brunette hair. He took a few, long steps back.


    "Erilaz, fight," he ordered, "as if I were trying to kill you!" He rushed at the boy, taking a wide swing with his sword.


    Erilaz reversed his weapon, the tip pointed backwards. He took a deep breath, squatted to gather momentum and sprung forwards. The man was approaching him, tensing all his muscles and getting ready to deal a blow. Gliding on the mud, Erilaz sneaked under the opponent''s blade. The man staggered, surprised by the off-target strike. Before he halted, Erilaz had stabbed his back.


    The man turned around with an underwhelmed expression. "That was a dirty trick, don''t you think?" he muttered.


    "But it was you, Brymir," Erilaz gasped out, lifting his hands, "who told me to fight as if you were trying to kill me."


    "Besides, it''s not your first time. Don''t bring your sword tomorrow," commanded Brymir. He pulled his thick gloves off. His hands sparkled with sweat and smelt like leather. Panting slowly, he ran his fingers through his wet, stringy hair. "I think I need to explain some principles of combat to you," said Brymir and tucked his gloves and sword into Erilaz''s hands.


    Erilaz crouched over a bag and threw the items inside. "Brymir, do you really think that," he mumbled and stood up, pointing at the sky, "everybody in this galaxy respects these principles?" He put his hand on his hip. "We can''t..."The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.


    "Do you want to be like those dirty animals?" Brymir chimed in. "Who hunt and fight each other?" He pointed at the distant castle on a hill. Thin, feeble clouds twined its hoary-grey towers and the morning sunbeams reflected from its surface. "We are the royal blood of Helvetto." Clenching his fist, he continued, "We bring pride, prosperity and safety to this planet. As a future Vardir Commander..."


    Hearing this title, Erilaz rolled his eyes slightly.


    Brymir carried on, "you should learn something more than just how to swing your sword."


    "That''s what I''m talking about, Brymir." Erilaz pulled off his training tunic and spread his arms. "I don''t get all of these combat techniques, tactics, and moves." He narrowed his eyes. "I don''t want to be a warrior."


    Brymir was preparing a crisp response but Erilaz pointed at him. "Why can''t I be like you? A great king and a wise diplomat?"


    A few meters away, two kids sat on the grass. Andvari, a ginger boy with short hair fiddled with a long blade of grass, and Hefri, a girl with a long, black ponytail listlessly gazed ahead.


    Erilaz glanced at them. "Just ask my peers. They never have any serious conflicts," he said and stared at Brymir, "because of me."


    "Erilaz, you know this place is already taken." Brymir''s face softened. "When I get old or something happens to me, my cousin will take care of everything."


    Erilaz tensed up, putting his hands on his hips. "Ivendir won''t rule forever too.


    "So then we will see," Brymir said with finality. A gentle smile appeared on his face. "That''s all. You''re free to go."


    "Thank you," said Erilaz with resignation, turning around. He expected a response like that. Historical sovereigns and their ideas were his hobby horse since he could remember. Subjects like war bored him to death, and he was a good student just to make his adoptive father happy. Brymir always prided himself on a clever son. Dutifully, although with bad grace, Erilaz trained to be one of the best students in the Royal Academy.


    Before he walked away, he felt a touch on his arm.


    "Trust me," said Brymir in a soft voice, "I want to take care of you like you were my own son." He looked in Erilaz''s eyes. "Sometimes diplomacy may be trickier than you expect."


    "That''s fine, Brymir." Erilaz squinted, pulling off a hairband. His golden, rumpled hair flopped on his arms. "Next time I will try not to impale you by surprise." He walked away towards his friends with a catty smile.


    Brymir watched how Erilaz ran up to the kids. They discussed and laughed like there was no future to worry for. Brymir admired their levity. As a king, he had to keep his ears and eyes open wide. Wars always appeared in Helvetto''s surroundings, but thanks to clever and wary kings, this planet remained a peaceful place. That made Brymir feel an everlasting pressure. His predecessors kept this world in order and wealth, so he couldn''t be worse. He only worried a bit about his cousin. Ivendir had an enormous amount of great ideas, but their execution left much to be desired.


    Keeping Erilaz away from diplomacy is keeping him away from troubles, said Brymir to himself.

 CHAPTER 1.1

    Helvetto, just like every other civilised planet, couldn''t avoid wars forever. The inevitable has to come but no one expected that from the Moryans, a savage and primitive tribe. Or at least that''s how everyone imagined them to be. Their hackers managed to cause a small mess on the outskirts of Helvetto''s planetary system. What was considered a harmless attack of some desperate bandits, quickly turned out to be a rapid invasion towards Helvetto. Erilaz, a twenty-five-year-old, fledgeling Vardir Commander, quickly got a chance to test his skills in practise.


    All three units of Vardir, the Royal Warriors, were sent to wipe the invaders out. Andvari and his unit guarded the northern territories in the mountains while Hefri and Erilaz clashed with the enemies a couple hundred kilometres away from the capital city, where the most violent strife broke out.


    Erilaz and a few members of his unit stalked through a narrow crack. The early spring manifested itself with a persistent drizzle, melting snow and cascades of water streaming down the mountain peaks. Grey mud blended with blood almost completely covered the lower parts of his massive power armour. The brown root-like motives on his legs and fauld were barely visible under a thick layer of dirt. As the Commander of his unit, he wore navy blue pauldrons with an icy-blue crystal on them. Vardir''s armours were forged from coruscium, an almost unbreakable metal alloy, so only anti-tank bullets could hurt them.


    Erilaz leant from behind the walls of a narrow crack.


    "Five hundred meters..." he read the data displayed on his visor, his voice distorted by the helmet.


    Could have been worse, he added in his mind.


    He analysed the rest of the data and gave a sign with his hand. He darted out of the notch, shooting at the nearest enemy, his amethyst-purple cape fluttered behind him.


    Clothed in a grey bulletproof vest and dark red pauldrons, Nelphian could only glance at Erilaz with his large, black eyes. The bullet pierced his primitive vest, staining it with shimmering, blue blood. The birdlike legs buckled under the green-skinned individual and he tumbled down into the grey mud. The plasma sword he held fell into a puddle and clouds of steam swirled in the air, hissing and crackling.


    The Helvettian unit was already far away. Clothed in cheap, patchwork armour the Moryans were falling one by one under the defenders'' fire. Erilaz halted behind a rock when a group of enemies surrounded his unit. His armour ricocheted the obsolete bullets but each hit felt like an unpleasant nudging.


    Are they really that stupid? They have no idea about basic military tactics, wondered Erilaz, barely hearing his own thoughts. Even if his helmet muffled the deafening roar of military vehicles and blasts of gunfire, he still heard all the noises. After studying in the Royal Academy, he could distinguish almost every sound in the background noise, including some heavy steps that were approaching him from behind the cover. As he tensed his muscles, the pistons in his power armour murmured.


    Brymir''s voice resounded in his communicator, "I see you''re doing well Erilaz, would..."


    Erilaz ignored it. He sprung out of his hiding spot, battering the enemy Kehrian with his elbow. The enemy''s heavy armour absorbed the attack. He only lost his balance and squatted, propping himself against the ground. With his long, pointy ears strained backwards in a furious expression, the Kehrian growled, but Erilaz slammed his head with his boot. The blue face of the enemy turned into red and pink pulp that spread on the ground. Ignoring the fleshy scraps stuck to his sole, Erilaz ran forwards.


    "It''s not easy," said Erilaz, weaving between rocks, "but I cleaned a bigger part of the eastern slope."


    "Would you mind helping me a bit?"


    "Sure, Brymir..." Erilaz paused to send a hail of bullets towards a group of hidden Moryans. "I''m coming, send me coordinates."


    "I ca..." Brymir tried to respond but a screeching static silenced him.


    Damned Moryans, they block signals, thought Erilaz. He unclasped the magazine of his long, icy-blue machine gun. "Whatever...", he mumbled and reloaded the gun. He said to his communicator, "Hefri, I''m leaving my position for a moment."


    "That''s fine!" responded a feminine but also harsh voice.


    Erilaz turned towards his subordinates. "Plans have changed," he informed, pointing towards the cliff on his left, "Captain Ermdahr, come with me."


    Captain Ermdahr and his people followed their Commander. The Captains'' pauldrons were decorated only with the contour of a diamond. Each of the three Vardir led three companies, and each of them had three Captains.


    Erilaz speeded towards the nearby rock, jumping over the scraps of vehicles, corpses and puddles of mud or fuel. He hid from the enemy bullets and took out a dodecahedral grenade. Looking at the data on his visor, he and his unit were only a hundred meters away from a cliff. Red dot symbolised Brymir''s position which flickered on the top of the cliff, right between three steep walls. Brymir and his unit appeared to be trapped.You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.


    Erilaz wiped the dirt from his face. He pulled the pin and threw the grenade towards the group of Moryans.


    A deafening explosion boomed, echoing between the mountain peaks. Orange light blinded the enemy survivors. Pieces of rock, bits of bodies and fragments of armours projected in the air.


    Erilaz raised his head. With disgust, he brushed off a piece of reddish bone from his pauldron.


    Covering the last hundred meters, he and his unit finished off the remaining Moryans and reached a narrow, vertical crack in the cliff. They began to climb up one by one, while others observed their surroundings. The crack protected them from the eyes of their foes but the walls were wet and slippery.


    As Erilaz arrived on the top, he wiped his hands on his fauld and looked around, trying to spot Brymir.


    This isn¡¯t good, he thought.


    A six-meter wide gorge separated him from the large plain where Brymir and his decimated unit fought for their life.


    A thought about surrendering didn''t even flicker through the king''s mind. He stood firmly, blasting the enemies away. His armour, despite smears of mud and blood, shone in an icy-blue colour like it was forged of real diamonds. A deep, scorched scuff mark covered his face from his chin to his forehead. All that remained from his left eye was a black and maroon crust. His crystal blue helmet lied on the ground. The paint on its whole left side turned black and a long slash reached the inner layer of the helmet, because somebody just had to attack the king with a plasma weapon.


    "I see you," said Erilaz. Despite the helmet distorting his words, a tinge of anxiety sounded in his voice. "Give me a minute."


    He charged forward. Flashing under a wall, he shot up at the enemy Ifrit. The orange reptile with horns only coughed when a bullet pierced his heart. A female Kehrian, creeping behind a rock, collapsed a second later.


    Erilaz squatted next to a twisted wreck. The black smoke soared around him, creating additional cover.


    "I..." said Brymir, panting, "I see you too."


    Their gazes met for a moment. Erilaz felt how his stomach turned upside down. He has never seen his adoptive father in a state like that. He could rush through the middle of a battlefield, duck under bullets and clash with every foe on his way, but that view horrified him.


    "Faster!" ordered Erilaz, running towards the rift. His heart rapidly pumped blood, thundering in his chest. The pistons of his power armour whizzed as he sped up. His finger mechanically squeezed the trigger of his gun.


    Brymir bashed an Ifrit with his elbow and pinned a blue-skinned Kehrian to the wall. He broke free and reached to his belt pack to grab a magazine. Before he could reload, a large bullet struck his head. The back of his skull fell to pieces and his lifeless body collapsed on the ground.


    Unable to believe what he sees, Erilaz stripped his helmet off his head. The blue paint under his eyes and on his cheeks was slightly smeared. The mountain wind tugged his messy hair, uncovering his earring made of a long animal tooth. He opened his mouth to say something but all words he knew faded away. A shadow loomed in a cave behind him but his eyes remained bored into the his father''s body. Holding his helmet in shaking hands, a shocked, almost defenceless Helvettian Commander looked like an easy target to a dark-skinned Celestian.


    Cold mountain air dried Erilaz''s mouth but he couldn''t move his jaw. He took only short, shallow breaths when his chest became too heavy.


    The foe creeping behind him seized the opportunity. He emerged from the cave and took a swing, directing his plasma blade towards Erilaz''s head.


    "Erilaz, behind you!" roared a feminine, distorted voice. A burst of fire from above wiped the enemy out, tearing huge holes in his body.


    Hefri jumped down with a loud thud. She also wore a Vardir Commander''s power armour but she was shorter and slimmer than Erilaz. She clipped her long rifle to her magnetic belt and rushed towards her companion. With all the momentum she gathered, she had pushed Erilaz behind a giant stone before bullets tore the air.


    "Did you see that?" she yelled and banged at Erilaz''s chest with her fist. He didn''t react.


    "Erilaz, did you see that?" she repeated but he just stared ahead. "Erilaz?"


    A swarm of voices alternately with cracking, white noise resounded in their communicators.


    "What just happened?"


    "Did you guys see that?"


    "I don''t see the king''s signals, what''s wrong?"


    "Don''t play around, that''s not funny!"


    "Erilaz, move!" ordered Hefri, yanking his arm. "We''re gonna die if you stay here! Move!"


    Erilaz limply staggered after her, his gaze still vacant and unfocused.


    "I saw..." he mumbled but his trembling voice sank in the blasting cannonade.


    Hefri raced a few meters under the completely vertical mountain slope, trailing Erilaz behind. She turned towards a little, shallow cave and ran inside.


    "Damn it, Erilaz, run!" she muttered, weaving between short stalagmites.


    Erilaz tripped a few times and almost slipped on the damp rock, but Hefri hoisted him up every time.


    "Then stay here," said Hefri and an echo repeated her words.


    She stopped sharply, and Erilaz tumbled down, splashing the crystal clear, spring water.


    "I know what happened," she growled and pointed at her companion, standing over him, "but I''m not going to wait for death in the middle of a battlefield."


    She trotted towards the entrance, the whizz of her power armour and her heavy steps reverberated in the cave. "Unlike you," she added, glancing at him, and ran outside.


    Hefri halted and looked around. She realised her error¨Cshe left her unit without a thought to save her friend. However, she trusted her people. They could execute the orders on their own.


    A voice in her communicator interrupted her thoughts, "Andvari here, to everyone."


    Hefri gazed at the distant plain where the last survivors of the Brymir''s unit disappeared in a sphere of fire. The explosion reflected in her visor and little stones bounced off her armour.


    Kilometres away, Andvari stood on the mountaintop, following the fleeing enemy ships with his weary, jade eyes. He held his helmet in one hand and a plasma axe in the other hand. The stream of plasma on edge of the blade flickered as the battery was running low. Almost completely black stains of charred blood covered his weapon. His ginger dreadlocks reached below his waist, and little snowflakes settled on them. His breath was fast and deep, and puffs of white steam swirled around his mouth whenever he exhaled.


    "I don''t know if it''s a trap," he informed, panting, "but it looks like we won."


    A little tear streamed down his cheek, blurring the blue war paint on his face.


    "Before they all retreat," he said and swallowed with an effort, "kill as many of them as you can."

 CHAPTER 1.2

    Three days later a plain under the Royal Kurgan was flooded with Helvettians. Citizens from almost the whole planet arrived there to pay a last tribute to their beloved king. Only those who lived in the attacked regions stayed home to repair the infrastructure and take care of the wounded. They could still watch the live transmission from the drones, which flew above the hill.


    Ivendir and three other individuals stood on a stone platform, and an obsidian ossuary rested on wooden brackets behind them.


    "I don''t know if we ever recover from this loss," said Ivendir in a soft voice, "but I promise to do my best." He, just like all significant figures that gathered here, wore long, grey robes. The bronze clips on his belt depicted the deepest roots of the Evergreen Tree. This traditional decoration symbolised a renewed connection with the earth of Helvetto.


    "Brymir was always my greatest inspiration," continued Ivendir, his shoulder-length, crimson hair swaying in the wind, "a guide and a teacher..."


    Heavy banners waved gently, each of them symbolised a different group of officials. The aquamarine one with a diamond represented Vardir, but Erilaz, Andvari and Hefri didn''t even raise their eyes to admire their insignia. With grey hoods covering their faces, they stood behind Ivendir, gazing at the ground. Andvari, the tallest and strongest of them, held his head so low that Hefri almost matched his height.


    Ivendir''s sea-green eyes swept the gathered Celestians. "...so I will do everything to make him proud." He raised his fist. The falling sleeve uncovered his tattoo of a green snake coiled around his arm. He inhaled the cold, fresh air and called, "Helvetto will prevail!"


    "Helvetto will prevail!" responded the crowd, raising their fists and waving their flags.


    Ivendir turned towards the obsidian ossuary, his hair danced around him in the wind. The two Celestians standing behind him lifted the ossuary. Their exoskeletons hidden under their robes buzzed quietly. The third man carried a bowl with incandescent herbs. Ivendir took a place in front of them, and they headed towards the entrance to the kurgan.


    Erilaz spent this whole time at a standstill. The three days between the battle and the funeral seemed to him like an eternity. He couldn''t remember simple things and it took him a few moments to understand who says what. His only food was cream soups and shakes because his stomach tightened itself as if an iron vise squashed it. Sleepless nights left dark circles under his eyes, and his hair resembled a sheaf of hay. Thick veins appeared on his hands, deforming his tattoo with a triskelion symbol. He could easily get some strong sleeping pills but after taking one dose his nightmares escalated. His visions didn''t remind him of anything particular. He only experienced overwhelming helplessness that turned into fright and ended with the feeling of his own death.


    He suddenly took a few steps forward and stood in the Ivendir''s way.


    "Ivendir... wait," he breathed.


    Ivendir stopped, and the expression of confusion flickered on his face. Erilaz was much taller and more muscular than him but now the Vardir Commander lost all his grace and proud posture.


    Ivendir raised his eyebrow. "Did I say something wrong?"


    "No, can I just..." responded Erilaz, trying to find the right words, "spend some time here before you, you know..." He exhaled nervously and looked into Ivendir''s eyes. "Let me spend these final moments with my father."


    Ivendir tightened his lips, glancing at the Celestians behind him. Unlike Erilaz, he just wanted to finish this ceremony and hide in his chamber to distract his overburdened mind. Every minute of thinking about his cousin consumed a fair bit of his energy.


    "Fine," he responded listlessly, shrugging as if he was talking to himself. Motioning to the Celestians, he commanded, "Stub the fire out."


    Ivendir and the hooded individuals walked inside and left the ossuary on the ground. The man with a bowl put it next to the obsidian chest to burn out. Only a thin wisp soared over the charred herbs, leaving a subtle scent in its wake.


    Ivendir marched out of the crypt first. He managed to maintain the appearance of a serious, impassive official all along but when he walked away from the kurgan, he released his true emotions.


    It had to happen, he thought, sniffing. He lowered his sight, his eyes shining like perfectly polished crystals. Sorry Brymir, it was unavoidable.


    As he trotted down the stairs, a thick lump swelled in this throat. Damn it, Brymir, I''m so sorry...


    Erilaz waited until they leave and the crowd below thins out. Then he entered the crypt. His slow steps echoed inside and his robe shuffled quietly. As he approached the ossuary, his heart pounded louder and louder. Nothing seemed real to him and the echo of every sound compounded this feeling. He fought the dizziness, but his shallow breath only exacerbated it. The interior of the kurgan was colder than the air outside, and yet his hands felt clammy.


    When he stopped next to the ossuary, he sniffed deeply, unable to restrain himself any more. The psychological pain transformed into choking in his throat, a numbness of his legs and squeezing in his stomach.


    The first tear streamed down his cheek. He slumped down, leaning on the cover of the ossuary. He hid his face behind the loose sleeves when the next tears appeared. Panting, like after exerting a huge effort, he gripped his sleeves to at least soothe the inner tension but it left no effect except even stronger stinging in his muscles.


    Forgetting about eating, sleeping and other necessities, he spent the next three days inside the crypt.The author''s tale has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    Helvetto slowly began to deal with this tragedy. Life returned on the streets and everyone had to take care of their own business but the gloomy atmosphere loomed over this world like a vulture.


    Andvari and Hefri spent these days on more or less important activities. They were doing everything to keep their minds occupied. Andvari sat in his chamber, tinkering with his unfinished tiny robots while Hefri gazed through the window. Her dark blue shirt dress matched her eye colour, and her black ponytail shone like an onyx carving.


    Everything suggested that life returned to the castle roofs. Green leaves and buds began to enliven the brownish grey roof gardens. Birds returned to the dwarf trees, nesting between their naked branches.


    "He''s still there," said Hefri and crossed her arms, her sight boring into one distant hill.


    "Hefri, I understand he''s completely shocked," responded Andvari, soldering little wires and cables, "but I think it''s a little bit too much."


    Whenever he touched the wires, the pen he held cracked, scattering sparks. A wide grey box stood on the table and it was filled with a fair number of cords, cogs, jars of paint and other tools for precise jobs. A few sparks reached his loose shirt, leaving tiny dark dots. Two silver beads on his dreadlocks flickered when the sparks jumped around. His spiky piercings in his ear and eyebrow contrasted with his oval face and a triskelion engraved on his bead symbolised his friendship with Hefri and Erilaz. Hefri always wore the same symbol too¨Cit decorated her silver necklace.


    Andvari emerged from behind the box. "He almost got killed there." He spread his arms. "And if they didn''t retreat, we would need to carry on the battle without him." Scratching the machine with a soldering pen again, he added, "And you had to risk your life to save him."


    Hefri glanced at him. "There were enough deaths for those two days."


    Andvari looked at her with gentleness. "Not that I was angry at him, I just think it was a bit..." he raised his eyebrow, "...incompetent? Unprofessional?"


    Turning towards him, Hefri put her hands on her hips and snarled, "I wonder what would you say if your father got..." She covered her face. "Oh wait..."


    "Don''t judge me for that," snapped Andvari, wrinkling his forehead, "we all knew my father was a traitor. He had to die." He put his fist on the table. "By my hand." He buried the soldering pen so deeply in a metal plate that a wisp of black smoke swirled over it. Sighing deeply, he propped his head with his hand, and his sight become vacant. "And overall, he was a trash parent."


    Hefri looked out of the window again.


    Ironic, she thought, watching the nature waking up from its winter slumber. The spring was supposed to be a happy time on Helvetto, but this year everyone seemed grief-stricken. A large, blue bird with four legs landed next to its partner. They greeted each other by a cheerful chirp while a group of royal officials walked the pavement below with gloomy expressions on their faces.


    "Anyways, maybe we should go and check on him?" she proposed.


    "Fine," said Andvari and stood up, "just hold your breath before you enter." He put a lid on the box. "You know, the ossuary. It''s not sealed yet."


    Hefri only rolled her eyes, even though she knew how her companion deals with difficult situations. Andvari used pointless jokes to dissociate himself from the pain. Every banter was for him like a brick necessary to build a wall around him, something that could isolate him from the harsh reality.


    Andvari tucked the box under his bed. He approached Hefri and together they left his chamber.


    They got off their quads and began to climb a steep, rocky footpath. The ground dried a bit after the recent rains, and the hillsides bloomed with all shades of green. More and more colourful flowers grew between bushes and grass. Most insects still hibernated but those that woke up didn''t waste their short life and flew around the flowers, seeking the tasty nectar. Trees released their leaves from buds and the bald hills turned lush again. The last remains of snow marked the higher slopes with dirty white smudges.


    Hefri and Andvari reached the kurgan. A little stab of uncertainty stopped her for a moment, so Andvari approached the entrance first.


    "Erilaz? Hi," he said, peeking inside. "Are you ok?"


    Erilaz still leant on the ossuary, hiding his face behind his sleeves. Hearing the voice of his friend, he turned around. Andvari stepped back, hiding the concern on his face. Erilaz''s appearance unnerved him. Greasy, tousled hair uncovered Erilaz''s face and the dark purple circles made his weary, red eyes look even smaller. Smudges of dust stuck to his grey rumpled robe and his sleeves shone with his dried up tears and nasal discharge.


    "What happened?" he mumbled with a hoarse voice.


    So it went that far, thought Andvari, looking at his friend with compassion. He was still angry at Erilaz''s reaction to this tragedy but this sight clutched his heart. He just wanted to hug Erilaz with all his might, but he knew it may be too sudden of a move.


    Hefri stood next to him, trying to phrase the least hurtful response. All words seemed to be too harsh. She sympathised with him, but time didn''t stand still.


    Scratching her head, she began hesitantly, "We see how much you are suffering but...hmmm, this crypt can''t stay open forever."


    "I know," muttered Erilaz. He curled up his legs and leant his head on his knees.


    Hefri continued in a gentle voice, "Let him rest. He deserved it. And..." she spread her arms, "...it¡¯s hard for us all, but there''s going to be a lot of changes." Counting on her fingers, she began to list, "Ivendir''s enthronement, the whole mess with pen-pushers, maybe some local riots and so many other things."


    "That''s fine, I get it," said Erilaz without any emotions. He propped himself on his hands and stood up. Faltering on his trembling legs, he leant against the ossuary. He sighed deeply as if this action cost him too much energy.


    And that''s all? wondered Andvari. Erilaz''s resignation surprised him a bit. He expected his friend to argue and stand his ground. He was sure Erilaz would want to stay here even longer.


    Trying to relieve the tension, Andvari swung his hand, saying, "Would be nice if you could join us for the big show Ivendir is planning." He shrugged with a bleak expression. "Sad Vardir''s duty."


    Gazing vacantly at the floor, Erilaz brushed his sticky hair aside and straightened his earring. He acquired this ornament when he was a teenager. He was hunting with his friends and was the first one to catch an aggressive aquatic reptile.


    "It''s tomorrow so we came earlier, we think you need some time to pull yourself together," added Andvari.


    "You''re right, " responded Erilaz, mindlessly spreading his arms.


    "Come on." Andvari folded his fingers in an encouraging gesture. He waited until Erilaz left the cave and together with Hefri, they headed towards the trail.


    They walked down the hill in silence. All they heard were the swoosh of the wind and sparse squeaks of birds. Andvari felt a slight discomfort. He could have said something more, comfort his friend or thrown in a few nice words.


    Well, he wondered, maybe keeping my mouth shut was a better choice than saying something close to the bone.


    He glanced behind. Erilaz tagged along beside Hefri and him, his expression remained lifeless and fatigued.


    "That was pretty easy," he murmured to Hefri, making sure once again that Erilaz wouldn¡¯t notice it.


    "Maybe he''s just sick of it all, and dealing with us is the last thing he needs?" she said, looking around at the distant snowy mountains.


    Andvari shivered and clenched his teeth. "It''s still better than letting him sleep in that crypt..."


    "Yeah," she muttered. "Let the funeral guys just burn the body and seal the crypt. It will be better for Erilaz. And maybe for us too."

 CHAPTER 2.1

    The enthronement took place in a large assembly hall right before the sunset. A crowd of officials and other important Helvettians gathered inside in numbers so vast that the door barely closed behind them. The hall was dark, aside from the large circular platform in the middle, where Ivendir stood majestically like a diamond sculpture. A swarm of drones hovered over him emitting almost no sound. Some of them recorded a live transmission while other machines held bowls with burning herbs.


    Ivendir''s silhouette reflected on the wooden floor in a faint, aggressively orange light. A long, arctic-blue robe with a diamond brooch and a light purple belt with a scabbard attached to it discreetly masked his rectangular, stubby build, giving him an appearance of a slimmer and taller man. His crimson hair flickered like fading embers and his face expressed no emotions. For the last hour he just calmly gazed ahead, waiting for the right moment to perform his ritual duties. Steady, deep breaths slowed down his heartbeat, only his hands dripped with sweat but he could covertly wipe them in his long, loose sleeves.


    He kept a tight rein on his thoughts. His task for the current moment was to flawlessly perform the enthronement ritual and he stuck to that. Despite his concentration, two feelings fought a battle in his mind. The first of them, an irresistible euphoria, tried to force a smile on his face but a sharp grief and self-blame efficiently silenced all signs of glee.


    A hooded person dressed in similar but more modest clothes approached him. The individual held a pillow in front of them, and the only sound that quietly echoed in the hall were their steady steps. An oblong, cerulean blue diamond lied on the pillow, shimmering and glittering.


    Brymir, trust me, repeated Ivendir in his mind when he slid his sword out of the scabbard. Its cross-guard was made of a translucent coruscium, forged in the shape of icicles, and the carvings on its grip mimicked roots. The blade, although produced of the same material, resembled a real aquamarine. Ivendir unscrewed the grip like a bolt. Grips of all plasma weapons served as battery holders too. The soon-to-be king put the crystal inside the grip and screwed it to the sword again.


    ...please, trust me, Ivendir continued, his wet finger shifting around the grip, searching for a button, I will make Helvetto a better place than everybody expects. He raised his sword, uncovering the snake tattoo on his arm. Trust me, please. He found the button and pushed it.


    A blue beam of plasma surrounded the blade, brightening the hall with a light so glaring that many observers blinked or narrowed their eyes. Despite the sudden brightness, the Helvettians began to cheer and swing their flags.


    The silent and grieving world finally found a reason to feast and rejoice. Pubs in the remote villages and exclusive restaurants in the capital city resounded with common calls of joy. Street people and individuals of good families drank toasts on the market squares and open-air cafes. The upcoming night was going to stay bright, illuminated with fireworks and campfires.


    The most important part of the celebration has just ended. Ivendir sighed with relief, knowing that the cheering crowd will drown it out. He wiped his hand in his sleeve once again and turned off the plasma sword. He slid it into the scabbard and strolled down the platform at a smooth pace.


    Brymir, I won''t disappoint you, he thought, leaving the last step.


    The first observers were walking out of the hall when Ivendir threw the robe off and trotted towards the exit for the elite.


    The loose tee-shirt uncovered Ivendir''s real silhouette. He was younger and weaker than his cousin, Brymir. His muscles and body fat merged together, making him look stocky but not fat in any case. The green snake tattoo on his arm was made by a most skillful artist and the hyperrealistic scales reflecting the cold glow of the lamps¡¯ light only confirmed the tattooist''s precision. The vertical pupils in the yellow eyes of the creature seemed to react to the light intensely.


    A row of giant, dark brown pillars supported a slightly curved, sand-coloured ceiling. Each of them was just a tree trunk decorated with relief carvings. The carvings presented plants and forest animals on the bottom, and treetops or birds on the higher parts. Ivendir stopped behind one of the pillars, carefully keeping track of the walking nearby Helvettians.Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.


    Seeing the three Vardir Commanders walking out of the hall, Ivendir called on his cousin, "Erilaz..."


    Erilaz didn''t react, slowly following Hefri and Andvari. The long sky-blue robe distinguished the Vardir Commanders and Captains from the rest. Erilaz brought his outward appearance to order, his braided hair mimicked a golden wheat spike, and a thick layer of powder masked the dark circles under his eyes almost entirely. Nevertheless, his weary gaze still revealed his inner emptiness.


    "Vardir Erilaz!" repeated Ivendir, raising his hand. "Do you have a few minutes?"


    "Yes, Ivendir, I do," responded Erilaz, halting suddenly. "Sorry."


    "Come on." Ivendir pointed to an empty corridor with his head.


    Without any questions, Erilaz followed him.


    They crossed the corridor and stopped in a wide, empty hall. A tall, arched window let the last sunbeams in, paining stretched shadows on the peanut-brown wooden floor.


    "Now you''re free to call me Your Highness," said Ivendir with a little smile.


    Erilaz only awkwardly raised a corner of his mouth.


    Ivendir took a deep breath and looked upwards at the tall Celestian. "I need your help," he declared, "even if it''s hard for you."


    Erilaz sighed. Ivendir''s problems weren''t in his field of interest but since he was fated to work under the new king''s orders, he nodded in agreement.


    "That''s not a problem. As a Vardir, I''m always here to assist you."


    Ivendir looked deep in Erilaz''s eyes. "I need you to focus, understood?" He glanced at the corridor behind. It was still empty. He continued in a quieter voice, "Did you see who took that shoot?"


    Erilaz stepped back as if the flashback of the battlefield punched him in his guts. His heart sped up straight away. He felt invisible claws clutching his throat.


    "No, I have no idea," he recited rapidly. "If I could only get there faster..."


    "I''m not here to blame you," Ivendir broke in, raising his hand, "or act as if I''m better than you."


    Looking meekly at Erilaz, he waited a moment. He wanted to let Erilaz catch his breath and calm down the surging anguish. Speaking gently and clearly, he asked, "Did you see that person or device?"


    Digging this memory up was for Erilaz like a vivisection. He mobilised all his muscles to appear impassive. The longer he recalled the view of shattered Brymir''s head, the stronger spasms he felt in his stomach. He really didn''t want to be angry at Ivendir for reopening this wound. Questioning the witnesses was a completely normal, necessary procedure, especially when the victim used to occupy the most important position on the whole planet. And yet he experienced anger. Ivendir still dredged up the worst moments of Erilaz''s life.


    "No," he answered.


    Ivendir sighed and lowered his eyes. "It''s too bad. That could really help us with the investigation."


    Erilaz only nodded slightly. Ivendir glanced through the window, seeking the right words for a follow-up question. When an important thought eluded his mind, he turned his head towards Erilaz again, hoping that the Commander will take up the conversation.


    Erilaz didn''t even consider that possibility. All he wished for was to turn around and walk away. Ivendir''s questions convulsed his guts, but he still tried to act professionally. Vardir''s duty was to listen to the king.


    Ivendir shifted his weight from foot to foot, while the silence became more and more uncomfortable.


    "I asked many of my people who were in this area and..."


    Your people? thought Erilaz, crossing his arms.


    "...nothing." Ivendir shrugged. "It feels like we were searching for a ghost."


    "I wish you good luck..." said Erilaz, covering his lips with his fist, "¡­Your Highness, but I can''t do anything."He clutched his fist stronger, thick veins bulging his triskelion tattoo."I was too late," he added, tightening his fingers on his diamond brooch.


    "We all made some mistakes." Ivendir relaxed his muscles. "I could go and fight too, but I thought it would be better if I stay there and defend the city walls." He was always good at hiding his suffering, but the long conversation about Brymir''s death finally took the floor. His real emotions flickered through his face. He quickly resumed, "This investigation is the only thing I can do to seek justice."


    Erilaz began to gradually zone out. He invested all remnants of his energy into listening to Ivendir''s words but he was simply worn out. A buzzing noise resounded in his heavy head and the veins in his eyes remained red. He tightened his fingers on his arm, staring at one point on the floor.


    Clearing his throat, Ivendir pulled Erilaz out of the reverie.


    "What should I do now?" asked Erilaz.


    "Just be on standby and keep your eyes open," explained Ivendir. "The Moryans left our world in a few hours, but they may be planning a return." Turning towards the exit, he narrowed his eyes and added in a quieter voice, "Just a rumour... but it''s better to be careful."


    He walked away, and his steps remained the only sound in the hall.


    Erilaz gazed through the window. The setting sun cast warm, comforting beams but Erilaz was too exhausted to enjoy them.


    A few seconds, he thought. That could be enough. He raised his sight ponderously. A few seconds to avoid it all.

 CHAPTER 2.2

    Ivendir barged into his chamber. As the door slid shut behind him, he leant against the wall in the hallway and sighed. The walls were panelled with hazelwood, and an arched doorframe surrounded the dark brown door.


    Ivendir ran his fingers across the panel. He felt a little dimple. He pulled it, opening a secret compartment. A gun lied inside it. Ivendir nodded to himself.


    He moved on and reached his bedroom. His quarters weren¡¯t grand by the standards of a typical monarch but Ivendir preferred more modest rooms. Big, open spaces made him feel uneasy. Here, in his bedroom, he could keep an eye on everybody and everything.


    A few paintings, a pair of antlers and a carved animal skull decorated the light brown walls. Ivendir approached the biggest painting in a sculptured wooden frame. It depicted two brown-haired Celestians in elegant tunics. The taller one held a fur on his shoulders and his hand rested on a sword. It was young Brymir on the first day of his reign. A ten-year-old Ivendir stood next to him. Back then he hadn''t dyed his hair red and the flicker of vigour gleamed in his big, round eyes.


    Ivendir tilted the painting a bit. Another locker with a plasma dagger was hidden behind it. Ivendir closed his eyes and exhaled.


    Went better than I expected, he thought with relief.


    Then he crouched next to his bed and looked under a mattress.


    "Huh?" he muttered in a shaky voice. Fear squeezed his stomach. A rush of adrenaline ignited his veins. He jumped to his feet, clenching his fists.


    Where is it!? he cried in his mind. He looked around the room. His heart pounded harder and harder with every second. He fell to his knees and stuck his head under the bed. He breathed a sigh of relief, noticing the gun lying on the floor.


    Here...


    Ivendir groaned, reaching his hand, and picked the gun up. The top part of the weapon was dark blue, and the grip shimmered with all shades of silver.


    He stood upright. Brushing his hair aside, he propped his head, thinking, I need a better place for it...


    A barely audible steps caught his attention. He tensed his ears. Somebody was approaching his chamber from a narrow emergency passage. His heart went wild again. The fright seemed to stab his stomach and lungs, taking his breath away.


    He turned on his heel, pointing the gun towards the unexpected guest.


    A bald, hefty Celestian in a long, brown coat casually entered the main hall. As he lifted his calm sight and saw the gun pointed at him, he halted and raised his hands.


    "Your Highness, it''s me," he said in a deep, throaty voice.


    "Oh," mumbled Ivendir, drooping his arms. He turned his head. "You surprised me." As he passed by a wide window with a stone frame, the snake tattoo on his arm seemed to narrow its golden eyes.


    Ivendir walked between a large, dark blue armchair and a coffee table, where he put the gun down. He approached a stone fireplace with a drink cupboard next to it. Undrawing its door, he reached for a blue bottle.


    "Sorry, Your Highness, but you wanted me to follow you quietly," said Thelrim, taking a few steps ahead. As the rays of the setting sun illuminated his rectangular face, his sky-blue eyes appeared even smaller. He wore two sapphire earrings on each ear, giving him a respectable look but his hand tattoo of the blue-and-white bird with a long tail contrasted with his massive silhouette.


    "That''s fine, Thelrim." Ivendir waved his hand in passing and took a bottle of amber liquor. "Even if you''re the only person I honestly trust, I have to stay cautious." A loud pop resounded as he pulled the cork out. "Just in case."


    He poured the dense, glimmering liquid into a glass. At that moment the chilly feeling of looming threat returned to him.


    "Brymir wasn''t cautious enough. He didn''t keep his eyes open," Ivendir whispered to himself but Thelrim heard his concern anyway. "And you see what happened to him."


    Fright crept into his mind akin to a nasty tick crawling under the thick fur of an animal. A chilly shiver pinched his back, and his stomach slightly shrank. Ivendir put quite a lot of effort not to think about this tragedy again. Every new thought fueled another horrifying image, engulfing him in an endless cycle of nervousness. Despite this, he couldn''t drown his mind in regret, dismay and mourning. The future of Helvetto depended on him.


    He raised his head and spread his arms. "So you, as my personal guard, have one job."


    Thelrim looked at Ivendir questioningly without fully understanding his intention. Even though he was a head taller than Ivendir, he nodded with humility, ready to hear the order.


    Ivendir narrowed his eyes. He pointed at Thelrim. "Don''t let me end up like him," he said in a quiet but adamant voice and sat down in the armchair.


    "I get it," responded Thelrim.


    Ivendir motionlessly gazed at the glass of liquor. His breath was steady but too deep for a relaxed person. Thelrim could only wonder what thoughts billowed in the king''s mind.


    Ivendir grabbed the glass. "I survived two assassination attempts," he said. Still gazing vacantly, he gulped down half of his glass. "Both because of you."


    He clenched his fingers on the armrest at the very mention of these incidents. Everyone on Helvetto knew who was next to the throne after Brymir and not everyone liked it. The last attempt happened over ten years ago when Ivendir was thirty but it imprinted in his memory and was still visible in his instincts. Prudence, alertness and perceptivity became his primary traits already after the first attack. He was only fifteen then and he needed a sense of security more than everything else. He began to obsessively hide different weapons in every corner of his bedroom and he never let anyone lull him into a false sense of security.


    "There will be more," he added, and his eyes narrowed with bitterness.


    That was the first night since King Brymir''s death when Erilaz had slept for more than a few hours. The dark circles under his eyes remained, but he managed to get up and pull himself together before midday. He put on a silver fur cape and tied his hair into a sloppy bun. After all, the title of a Vardir Commander still belonged to him, and neglecting his physical condition was terribly inappropriate. The complex supplements alone won''t keep his muscles in good shape.


    Slow march through the mountain track let him fully breath again. The chilly and fresh air softly pinched his nose, refreshing his fuzzy mind. The smell of grass and flowers soothed his racing thoughts. Instead of brooding about his adoptive father''s death, he focused on the movements of his body. Every step he took brought him closer to the hilltop and every muscle flexed and relaxed time after time.


    The lack of wind let him hear the chirping and chattering animals. Tiny, light brown rodents leapt from branch to branch and hung on their long tails, licking nectar from the flowers. A pair of avian reptiles flew around, picking up dry grass for its nest. This day was free from work so only a few freight spaceships with the essential goods crossed the clear sky.


    Erilaz reached a meadow. A tiny cottage stood on the edge of it and a circle of smoky stones marked the place of a recent campfire. Hefri sat on the chair next to it. She covered her mouth with a tissue, and strands of hair stuck out of the two buns on her head. Andvari stood in front of her, discussing something. His ginger dreadlocks were tied up, and muddy smudges covered his trousers. They both wore training tunics, but they didn''t use any weapons.Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    They stopped talking and looked at Erilaz.


    "Oh, you''re finally up!" called Andvari, waving. "It''s almost noon..."


    Erilaz raised a corner of his mouth.


    Andvari added, "Come here!" As Erilaz slowly approached him, he put his hands on his hips and asked firmly, "Didn''t you neglect some skills during this week?"


    Erilaz tilted his head. "...No?"


    "Prove it." Andvari squeezed his fingers, cracking his joints.


    Sighing helplessly, Erilaz answered, "I''m not in the mood."


    Listening to them, Hefri raised her head and shouted, "Come on Erilaz, avenge me!" She wiped the blood from her upper lip and sniffed, but the sticky red liquid still oozed from her nostril.


    Erilaz raised his eyebrows in a worried expression. "Hefri? What happened to you?"


    "Eh, an accident," broke in Andvari and carelessly swung his hand, "during the training."


    "Listen here, pastahead!" growled Hefri, pointing at him. "Next time you are going to have an accident!"


    Andvari spread his arms. "But it was you who didn''t dodge quick enough!"


    Erilaz only stood next to them, following each of them with his eyes.


    She sniffed again. "You were quicker than a laser shot!"


    "That only proves I''m the best!"


    "I had no chance to react..."


    "So you admit that I won?"


    Ignoring the blood smearing on her upper lip, Hefri put her fists on the table. "Never!"


    Andvari stopped her, reaching his hand. "I''m not fighting you in that state."


    "Coward..." mumbled Hefri, wiping her mouth.


    Acting like an old professor, Andvari continued, "According to the royal codex, the training has to be stopped after the first drop of blood."


    "I know..."


    Andvari propped his chin and looked around. "Hm..." he muttered after a while. He approached Erilaz with a brisk step, smirking. "Actually, that was a good idea. Avenge her."


    Erilaz sighed. His friends behaved as if the mourning was over. Their moods were way too good while Erilaz had just begun to get back on his feet. The wound still bled. On top of that, he slept through the night for the first time in days. Dull sough still echoed in his head, and his eyelids closed on their own.


    "Can''t you just..." he shrugged and spread his arms, "...I don''t know, grow up? Calm down?"


    Sniffing loudly like a vacuum cleaner, Hefri cleaned her mouth again. She gulped and sized Andvari up with her gleaming, ominous eyes. "Not until I punch his crooked face!" she shouted, pointing at Andvari.


    "Fine..." groaned Erilaz, drooping his arms. He unbuttoned the fur cloak, adding, "I will fight you."


    "Nice..." said Andvari, rubbing his hands and smiling wickedly.


    Erilaz approached the table to put his cloak aside, but a growling sound from above made him recoil like a wild cat. It was Andvari. He swung his fist to punch Erilaz but his opponent ducked.


    "Huh?" mumbled Erilaz but before he turned around, Andvari pounded him in his back.


    Erilaz stumbled and landed on his knee. Andvari jumped towards him again with his fist ready to blow another strike. Erilaz made use of his low position and sprung up, punching Andvari in his stomach. Andvari hissed, losing the air from his lungs, and gripped Erilaz''s hair with all his might. Despite the twinging in his torso, he tugged Erilaz, ruffling his already messy bun.


    With his hair floating behind him, Erilaz tripped towards the table. Hefri recoiled, gritting her teeth. Her friend landed on the tabletop, muttering something under his breath. He dragged himself from the table and grabbed his stomach.


    Andvari stopped, and concern flickered in his eyes. "Are you ok?" he asked.


    In response, Erilaz leapt towards him, kicking him his underbelly. Andvari tumbled on the ground, squeezing the young blades of grass.


    "Ouch..." he moaned with his eyelids tightened. He opened his eyes slightly and blinked, blinded by the midday sun. At one moment the sun disappeared behind Erilaz''s back.


    "Yes, I am," Erilaz replied.


    Andvari rolled on his belly and lifted himself up.


    "King Brymir never taught you fairness..." he grunted, rubbing his head.


    "And he never taught you caution," said Erilaz.


    Andvari growled, narrowing his eyes. He charged at Erilaz. They sprinted towards each other and began to scuffle. Andvari tried to punch Erilaz. Erilaz banged the fists of his opponent and tugged his sleeves. They locked their arms, struggling to push their rival down.


    Gasping, Erilaz braced his feet against the ground, putting up resistance. His fraught muscles stung after a sudden effort but the surge of adrenaline softened the tension. All his misery left him, leaving free space for fervour and deep focus.


    Andvari was always physically the strongest of all Vardir apprentices. He only messed with Erilaz, trying to loosen him up. "Erilaz, look," he said, barely relaxing his grip.


    "What?"


    "My victory."


    At that moment Erilaz took a step back, stepping into a puddle of mud. His boots lost their traction, and he collapsed on the ground, splashing brown water around him. Andvari recoiled, avoiding the falling drops of mud.


    He approached Erilaz with a sneer on his face. "See?" he asked, "I''m undefeated." He raised his fists in a triumphant manner and yelled, "Undefeated!"


    Erilaz lifted his head. Because of the sleepless nights, he couldn''t comprehend what happened for a few seconds. He blinked and rose to his knee. Sighing with effort, he stood on his feet. His light brown shirt was covered with darker stains and thick lumps of mud stuck to his boots. He sighed once again. His hair flopped on his drooping arms. He grunted under his breath and swept the wet hair strands away.


    Twisting the corner of his mouth, he marched next to Andvari.


    "That''s what I''m talking about," he grunted. "A few seconds."


    "Next time Hefri and you can fight me together," said Andvari, unzipping the training tunic. "Maybe," he added in a soft voice, "just maybe, you can defeat me."


    Erilaz pointed at the ground, narrowing his eyes. "I would have defeated you if I noticed this mud earlier." His jaw began to tremble as the fighting fervour subsided. "The same as if I had noticed the rifleman faster..."


    "No, not this discussion again," broke in Andvari, closing his eyes and raising his hands. The tee-shirt he wore was soaked with sweat under his armpits and a few veins bulged on his enormous muscles.


    "You can''t just blame yourself for everything all the time!" he added, clenching his fists.


    "Here we go again," muttered Hefri, stretching out on the chair. Since the king''s death, she was torn between letting Erilaz live through the mourning and going back to the old life. Her job required her to be tough and strong but now, during the peacetime, she could feel a little bit of sympathy. She lost her king but he lost his father.


    A sound of steps on the grass caught her attention. She turned her head towards the hill.


    A muscular Celestian in a blue shirt was approaching them. Wind tugged his loose trousers and shoulder length, sandy blond hair.


    "Commander Erilaz!" he called, raising his hand.


    Erilaz and Andvari broke off their discussion and looked at him.


    He nodded, adding, "Commanders Andvari and Hefri." He trotted down the hill and stood face to face with Erilaz.


    "Captain Ermdahr?" said Erilaz and nodded too.


    "King Ivendir couldn''t contact you. He needs you in the industrial district." With a slightly disbelieving smile, he swung his hand and declared, "You won''t believe what''s happening..."


    "Captain Ermdahr," asked Erilaz, propping his chin in misgiving, "What''s going on?" He opened his eyes wider, his turquoise irises shone with anxiety. "Moryans?"


    The warrior''s instincts stimulated his nerves. His muscles tensed. He got ready to throw himself into a whirl of battle again.


    No," the Captain smiled, waving his hand carelessly, "just a riot."


    Erilaz sighed. He thought he overreacted again. Crossing his arms, he asked, "He calls us for a common riot?"


    "Only you for now."


    "Is it really so serious that he needs a Vardir himself?" Erilaz raised his eyebrow.


    Ermdahr spread his arms. "No, but that''s his order."


    "...Fine," said Erilaz, raising his hands and closing his eyes. "Weird but fine."


    Ermdahr climbed up the hill and Erilaz followed him.


    "Just don''t kill each other, understood?" Erilaz pointed at Hefri and Andvari, and they responded with taunting smirks.


    Erilaz didn''t worry too much about this unusual order, he only wondered why this riot needs the presence of a Vardir Commander. Vardir warriors, especially their Commanders, were called only for the most dangerous situations and states of emergency when the good of Helvetto or the king were threatened. Erilaz stayed calm. If the risk was serious, he would know about this first. On the other hand, no sane person calls Vardir for a trifle.


    They crossed a meadow and reached a small spaceship. It''s pristine dark blue plating shone in the midday sun. Its wings were light grey, just like the surface of the nearby mountains. Ermdahr entered the ship first and took the pilot seat. Erilaz jumped after him and sat on a bench in the corridor. The engine of the vehicle whizzed and howled, releasing a giant puff of steam from the tiny hydrogen reactor. It soared completely vertically for a few meters and then flew away.


    Hefri and Andvari followed the ship with their eyes until it disappeared behind clouds. She took her tunic off and left it on the table, blowing her nose at the crumpled, stained with blood tissue. Her well-fitting tee-shirt with wet spots emphasised her angular and hefty but athletic figure. She came from the northern regions of Helvetto, so she was naturally used to difficult living conditions, and years of training and taking supplements made her body even more muscular. That didn''t stop her from wearing the most sophisticated clothes and jewellery for special occasions. Even so, she valued graceful but comfortable clothes on a daily basis.


    "As Erilaz said, weird but fine," commented Andvari, still looking upwards.


    The clouds have gained some volume since dawn. Instead of thin, nimble smudges, they resembled ruffled clumps of wet wool.


    Andvari leant towards Hefri and covered his mouth, whispering in a conspiratorial tone, "Don''t tell anyone, okay?"


    Puzzled Hefri glanced at him.


    "I have an impression that the king acts pretty... um... unusual," he continued.


    Hefri stood deeply in thought for a moment, after which she responded, "Hm... If I were in his position..." She shrugged and nudged a little rock with her boot. "...I would be careful too."

 CHAPTER 3.1

    Erilaz sat in the spaceship''s corridor, lazily gazing through the small window and propping his chin. His tousled hair was tied untidily, and a few strands hung over his face. He scratched off the dried bits of mud and wiped his face but his shirt remained blotchy. The monotonous view lulled him to sleep as if he completely forgot about the upcoming task.


    The industrial district had no atmospheric streets, charming tenement buildings or green belts full of flowers and old trees. Each block of flats was rectangular, grey and symmetrical. Only the rows of windows reflected the sun, brisking this forest of concrete. Like mountains among the trees, a few factories towered over the blocks. The streets seemed almost completely dead because the residents were in their workplaces. Usually even in the middle of the day some vehicles and individuals hung around the buildings but this time no one show up.


    Pretty odd, thought Erilaz when a small explosion flashed between the blocks.


    He blinked and turned towards the cockpit. "How bad is it down there?" he mumbled.


    "Commander Arnorsson says it''s a bit violent," responded Ermdahr, tapping the touch pad icons on the console, "but nothing too special."


    "Are there any orders only for me?"


    "No, I''m gonna ask if he has anything new." Ermdahr chose the communication icon and said, "Captain Ermdahr here, any orders for Vardir Erilaz?"


    A voice from the speaker replied, "The king just gave more info about Vardir''s assignment." After a second of consideration, he continued, "It''s a negotiation mission."


    Ermdahr raised his eyebrow and glanced aside in puzzlement. "That... makes more sense now, thanks, Arnorsson."


    "I''m waiting under the communication tower," added Arnorsson, "we''re on standby."


    Erilaz listened to their conversation, trying to figure out the whole point of his mission.


    They flew for a few more minutes. A tall tower soared over the blocks like a skeleton in the museum. Clouds of black smoke throttled the air of the settlement behind it. Larger or smaller explosions surrounded the blocks with yellow and orange halos.


    "Here," Ermdahr said to himself, heading his ship towards a straight road. Since he didn''t trust the board computer a hundred percent, he strained all his senses and moved his fingers over the touch pad like a surgeon. "Damn, that''s narrow," he added, leaning over the console similarly to a creeping predator.Unauthorized content usage: if you discover this narrative on Amazon, report the violation.


    "What?" asked Erilaz but he got the answer when the ship zipped between two tall blocks. The g-force pushed him at the backrest and fuzzy lines flashed behind the window. The engines of the ship bellowed, jiggling the floor. The vibrations flipped Erilaz''s breakfast all over his stomach.


    Descending and slowing down, the ship scratched a balcony with a stabiliser on its wing and spread little sparks. When the vehicle touched the ground, Ermdahr slogged the brake icon. The ship throbbed once again and the engine began to grumble monotonously. A puff of a stream left the pipe and the hatch slid up.


    "Nevermind," breathed Erilaz with his eyes closed.


    "Come on, Commander!" called Ermdahr and threw a LiqWatch and a holster with a gun at him.


    Erilaz caught it, regaining control over his body. Small meals, insomnia and wild g-force weren''t pleasant to his stomach or brain.


    Ermdahr jumped out of the vehicle first and Erilaz followed him. They crossed the street and stopped on a square with a communication tower in the middle of it.


    A group of armed Celestians ran from the opposite side. They wore grey suits and dark blue armoured vests. Helmets with shiny face shields protected their heads, giving them quite a mysterious aura. They held dark brown rifles and leg pads with the same coloured boots.


    One of them had his helmet in his hand, showing his oval face and pointy ears with round, hollow earrings. His purple mohawk still stood straight despite streams of sweat on his skin. An aquamarine image of an eagle in the nest decorated his chest and his rifle distinguished itself from the rest by its sky-blue colour.


    He halted in front of Erilaz and Ermdahr, waving his hand in a rushing gesture. "Vardir Erilaz, Captain, follow me," he recited, turning around.


    "Commander Arnorsson, wait," said Erilaz, raising his hand to stop the Commander. "What am I supposed to do?"


    Arnorsson, the Commander of Metropolitan Militia, spread his arms. "Make those folks stop throwing things at us, so we won''t need to deal with arresting them and the whole mess around it." He pushed the helmet on his head, sighing, "Paperwork..."


    Erilaz nodded. He buckled the holster to his belt and put the LiqWatch on his wrist. This device resembled a thin wristband and could be easily hidden under a sleeve.


    "Come on," said Arnorsson.


    He and his people ran into the concrete jungle again. Erilaz had no time to rethink this situation. He followed the group, recalling all he learned during training.


    A group of the militia members and workers in dark green boiler suits stood on the square in front of the factory. The militia used air pistols and fake bullets to keep the enraged crowd away, covering themselves with shields. Cans, fragments of pipes, bricks and other items were falling on them from above. The crowd pushed against the barricade, yelling and threatening the officers.


    A caterpillar freight vehicle stood behind the militia group. It was previously used for transporting cargo but now it looked like the only safe place among the fighting Celestians.


    Arnorsson led Erilaz towards the vehicle and climbed on it. He waited for Erilaz to join him and looked around. The situation didn''t change much. The workers rioted with anger but he couldn''t do anything serious without Erilaz. That was the king''s order.

 CHAPTER 3.2

    Arnorsson raised his hand and called, "We''re here to negotiate." He waited until the furious shouts silenced. His cautious glance swept the gathered workers. They closed their mouths but their faces still expressed rage. Hundreds of furious eyes stared at Arnorsson from under the celadon hoods.


    Arnorsson pointed at Erilaz. "Vardir Erilaz, the king''s emissary, honoured us with his presence."


    Erilaz looked at him warily, keeping an impassive expression.


    "You, boy!" yelled one of the workers with a large, old scar on his face. Pointing at Erilaz, he continued, "Tell your king that he''s a common thief!"


    More voices repeated this statement. The Celestians began to swing their fists and beat at the barricade.


    Great... thought Erilaz with discouragement. He bent down and reached his hand in an inquiring gesture. "Well... tell me what happened."


    "He doesn''t know," said the scarred rebellion leader, looking at his companions with a cheeky smirk. "Will we tell him?"


    The voices resounded again but one of the workers, who stood next to the leader, stayed silent. He grabbed an empty can of paint, but the leader grabbed his hand on the sly.


    "Wait!" the scarred Celestian whispered harshly and forced him to put the can into his pocket.


    The leader raised his sight at Erilaz again and explained, "Your beloved king wanted to buy my factory." He waved his hand. "Fine, you might say. What''s wrong with that?"


    The Celestian who held a can gazed vacantly but he woke up from the reflection when the leader shouted.


    "The problem is, he offered a price five times lower than it should be!" He slammed at the barricade. "And he wanted to cut our wages!"


    Erilaz raised his finger. "You..." He tried to outshout the angry crowd, but the leader continued.


    "And he said that''s the final offer! I have to accept it or he''s gonna arrest me for..." He paused to take a breath. "... nothing, some frauds or whatever shit I''ve never done!"


    Arnorsson leant towards Erilaz. "Don''t believe everything he says," he whispered.


    Erilaz lifted his eyebrow but in a moment he nodded knowingly. He scratched his chin and turned towards the crowd. "Are you really sure he meant that?"


    "No, I''m blind and deaf," responded the leader, tapping his forehead. With his fist clenched, he continued, "It''s not even been a whole week since his reign began and he''s already trying to ruin us!"


    Erilaz glanced at Arnorsson and murmured, "They''re angry. I think we should solve it quickly..."


    Arnorsson only spread his arms. "I''ll help you but... it''s your mission now."


    This response gave Erilaz a shiver of annoyance. He contorted his mouth. That made no sense to him but for some reason, the king wanted a Vardir Commander to take action personally. Since there was no chance for a peaceful conversation, he decided to put all cards on the table.


    He took a firm position and asked, "What are your demands?"


    "Two options." The leader showed two fingers. "He gives me back what belongs to me or he pays the right price."


    "I will speak to him," declared Erilaz, glancing stealthily at Arnorsson.


    "Good luck!" called somebody from the crowd.


    Erilaz theatrically rolled up his sleeve to make sure that everyone sees what he''s doing and tapped the LiqWatch a few times. He stood in this position until the red dot on the screen turned green.


    "Ivendir? I mean, Your Highness," said Erilaz to the LiqWatch, "I''m speaking to the rebellion leader. I know his demands."


    "I know them too, I''m watching you from above," a voice resounded over Erilaz''s head.


    Vardir looked up.


    "He''s a bit too confident," spoke Ivendir through a speaker in a drone that soared above the square all along. "I know the value of what I want to buy."


    The worker who held a can in his pocket hasn''t spoke a word all this time. He listened to the discussion with his eyes bored into the ground. No one noticed the tension rising in him. The thick coat masked his trembling arms and large veins on his hands. The conversations around him drowned out his rough, weak breath, so he had only one idea how to get attention.


    "You know nothing!" he cried, throwing the can at the drone with all his strength.


    The machine dodged, and its rotors buzzed during a rapid manoeuvre. All speech fell silent as the eyes of the workers directed towards the man.


    He continued, hurling a metal pipe, "Your big palace isn''t enough for you!" The falling pipe hit the ground, twanging and interrupting his helpless plea. "So you want to take whatever you can from us!"


    Erilaz tried to say something but the worker broke in, "He wants to take everything from me! And not just from me. Look a them!"


    Observing the crowd warily, Erilaz let him continue. The worker clenched his fingers on the barricade, leaning towards the Vardir. "He won''t be able to make this factory prosper. We need it to survive!"The author''s narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    "I need this factory too," stated Ivendir from the speaker in the drone. "I will take care of..." A brick thrown by the worker hit the drone, silencing the king. The falling machine whirled and scattered sparks. It crashed to the ground and flickering flames surrounded it.


    The worker observed it with a mass of different emotions billowing in his tired eyes. He and his companions had reasons to be afraid, to hate the new king and to fight for their uncertain future.


    When the black smoke swirled around the wreck of the drone, the worker demanded, "Bring him here." He pressed his finger to the barricade, pointing at the spot right in front of him. "He''s only so brave because he''s speaking through this scrap."


    The spite in the worker''s voice stirred vigilance in Erilaz. His muscles tensed. A spark of ferocity flashed in his eyes while his pupils widened. He knew he shouldn''t do it, but his hand instinctively reached towards his hip where he had a gun.


    The worker hid his hand behind his back. He touched a gun he had in the holster on a belt.


    Erilaz scratched his flank not to arouse suspicion and stood stiffly. The worker did the same. Erilaz still watched him with his ears strained.


    To calm the crowd down, he raised his hands and said, "Very well. I will speak to him."


    "When?" asked the scarred leader with his arms crossed.


    "Soon," stated Erilaz, fiddling with his sleeve. "This week, maybe?"


    The leader opened his mouth but the worker, who reached for his gun earlier, leant against the barricade and drooped his head.


    "It''s useless," he growled.


    The leader looked at him, raising his eyebrow in confusion.


    "Vardir or not, they are all the same!" the worker screamed and pulled his gun out.


    "Calm down," hissed the leader, grabbing his hand and tugging it downwards.


    Erilaz stepped back. He stood astride, taking a combat-ready position. His fingers brushed his shirt, reaching for a gun, but Arnorsson tapped his forearm.


    "Don''t to this," whispered Arnorsson in a commanding tone. "Don''t make them even more pissed off."


    "That''s right," added Ivendir from the communicator on Erilaz''s wrist, "but don''t get yourself killed too."


    Erilaz relaxed his muscles and exhaled quietly. He restrained his fervour to appear neutral and harmless. His instincts alerted him but he ignored the warning. Despite the cold and distant judgement, he knew somewhere inside that it won''t end well.


    Ivendir continued, "Take care of yourself, please. But shoot only when it''s necessary."


    "You don''t see it, but I can''t wait months!" the worker interrupted. His voice was turning more and more aggressive with every word. Glimmers of wrath and woefulness shone in his eyes. "I have to survive from one payoff to another. He can''t cut our wages!"


    Erilaz lifted his hands in a calming gesture "You can..."


    "Shut up!" the worker yelled, ignoring the Vardir Commander. He pointed his gun at Erilaz. The leader tried to stop him but he wrenched his hand free. He kept talking, "Who''s gonna pay for the meds for my wife? Three days without them and she''s dead. What about my daughter? My only child?" he asked in a faltering voice. "Do you see any future for her without this pittance? Should she be a thief? Or a drug dealer?" The words he spoke began to merge together. "Or sleep with some old creeps?" He paused, panting and clenching his teeth. No one else said a word. The workers watched him all this time with concerned, uneasy or anxious expressions.


    Erilaz didn''t let him out of his sight even for a second. He stood firmly, slightly leaning forwards in a vigilant pose. His stiff hands were ready to grab the gun. The dull but rapid pounding of his heart resounded in his head.


    "Erilaz, please, be careful now," said Ivendir. "Shoot only if you have to. You have a right to do it in this situation. He is dangerous."


    "No," interrupted Arnorsson. "Wait. Don''t show them any weapons."


    "It''s about his safety, Arnorsson. And yours too."


    Erilaz didn''t listen to them too carefully. He knew what to do. He only hoped it would be solved without violence. Killing a civilian won''t improve his reputation.


    "Let us handle this,'' added Ivendir.


    Before any of them answered, the worker broke in, his sight bored into the ground, "I knew it. You can''t do anything about that." He sniffed, choking the tears back. ''"You will just sit on your golden couch and watch us starve." He took a few deep, quick breaths as if he was suffocating." Looking from above like you were some kind of gods!" He raised his gun and shot.


    Erilaz drew the gun and pulled the trigger too. He focused on this action so profoundly that he didn''t pay attention to the impact he felt on his chest.


    Two gunshots echoed among the blocks. One of them was muffled, and the other one pierced the air with a shrill bang. Erilaz staggered but Arnorsson caught his arm. Only then he noticed the searing pain around his heart. He clenched his fingers on his chest. More shots blasted out and within three seconds a wall of rumbling noise reached his ears.


    "Get back!" shouted Arnorsson and pulled Erilaz towards the ladder. He helped Erilaz climb down and then he jumped from the vehicle.


    "You killed him!" somebody''s voice pierced through the thunderous cannonade.


    "Are you ok?" called Arnorsson, holding Erilaz''s arm. The Vardir Commander was bending forwards, still gripping his shirt.


    Erilaz growled with pain and looked at his palm. It was covered in a green slime. The same substance stained his shirt.


    "A slime gun?" he wondered out loud. "A fake bullet?" He raised his eyebrows with anxiety when he discerned the situation.


    "Hide!" ordered Arnorsson. Little drops of drizzle began to fall from the sky and specked on his face shield. Clutching his rifle on the alert, he hunched over and trotted towards a pile of scrap. Erilaz followed him.


    A few bullets struck the blocks behind them. The roar of the firefight filled the whole district. The rebels fell one by one but those who survived fired at the officers from their guns, rifles and anything else that could inflict damage. Burning cans of oils, paints and other substances landed in front of the militia members. Flames embraced a few of them similarly to snakes strangling their prey. Their coruscium armours and suits were bulletproof but the high temperature itself boiled fragments of their skin.


    Both sides ignored the raindrops splashing on their heads and the sky darkening over them. The officers forged ahead, blasting the rebels away.


    Arnorsson and Erilaz sneaked behind the scrap and hid between two blocks. The dark grey clouds spewed out more and more raindrops. The hydrophobic coating of Arnorsson''s face shield made the water stream down but Erilaz''s soaked clothes stuck to his skin. The Vardir''s golden hair now resembled tufts of swamp grass.


    "I was sure it was a real gun..." muttered Erilaz, running behind Arnorsson in the maze of blocks.


    "Too fucking late," growled the Militia Commander.


    Erilaz halted. "Listen," he demanded. He focused on the sounds to check if somebody followed them but the firefight seemed to still take place on the square in front of the factory.


    "I''m not some kind of peacekeeper." Water streamed down his hair, reaching his earholes and mouth. His light brown shirt became dark and clung to him, revealing his fair-sized muscles.


    Arnorsson stopped too and turned around. He was ready to tell Erilaz off but the Vardir Commander continued.


    "I''m a Vardir. I''m taught to react quickly. I see danger, I fight back..."


    "Go back to Ermdahr''s ship," ordered Arnorsson, pointing at the street next to him. "Don''t fly too low."


    He sprinted back towards the firefight without looking back.


    Despite the disagreements, Erilaz followed his order. Arnorsson was way more experienced so he knew what he was saying. Piercing through the walls of water from the sky, Erilaz ran down the streets where Ermdahr landed earlier.


    I''m taught to kill, was his last thought before he jumped into the vehicle.


    Arnorsson was approaching the square. Even though his helmet muffled the loudest blasts, he heard how the gunfire slowly died down. Fury ripped him apart from within. He never tolerated when somebody pried into his job.


    The king should stay away from my fields of operation, he thought. Right before he charged on the square, he added, Brymir or Ivendir, I know what to do better than them all...

 CHAPTER 3.3

    Ivendir watched the raindrops scurrying down the window. Roaring thunder illuminated his hunched silhouette. He stood with his arms crossed, and he wore his casual clothes¨Ca long beige shirt with linen, dark brown belt.


    As the calm, steady steps resounded in the hall, a rapid shiver ran through his spine. He raised his pointy ears and glanced behind. Seeing how Thelrim crosses the doorway, he breathed a sigh of relief.


    "Was that necessary," asked the guard blankly. He rested his hand on his hip, sizing Ivendir up.


    Ivendir gazed at the floor. "Killing my people is the last thing I want to do," he admitted, turning his head towards Thelrim, "but we really needed this factory." He raised his sight for a moment. "Especially... the profit it generates."


    Thelrim reached his hand and said in an instructive tone, "This one factory won''t save us. We will need more and more."


    Ivendir blinked as the lightning flashed outside the window. "It should be enough for two or three months." He showed three fingers and turned towards Thelrim again. "Then we''ll see."


    Thelrim swept his gaze across the floor and unhurriedly raised his sight at Ivendir''s face. "I don''t want to judge you, Your Highness," he paused, watching the king''s reaction, "but I think this... pact... was a mistake."


    As Ivendir clenched his fist, his joints cracked. He bored his eyes into Thelrim and declared in a fierce tone, "I won''t let them feed on our world."


    Thelrim nodded with respect, seeing the audacious attitude of the king.


    Ivendir walked away from the window, knowing that his threats were idle. "At least not for too long."


    A LiqWatch on his wrist beeped and glowed blue. Ivendir caught a glimpse at it.


    Erilaz? Not now, he thought and tapped the discard icon. "Speaking of necessity..." he said, crossing the hall, "I think it was necessary."


    Thelrim nodded. He understood the king''s decision. The good of their planet was of greater value for him. Since he was a child, he strived to serve his world as best he could, even though his family constantly underestimated his efforts. Now, when Ivendir became king, he had a chance to prove himself at any cost.


    "I promised that Helvetto would prevail," Ivendir continued, clenching his fist, "and it will be more powerful than ever..."


    The sound of his own words comforted him a bit. He observed the previous riot with swift heartbeat and spasms in his stomach. He secretly hoped that this situation would be resolved bloodlessly but when the first gunshots resounded in the speakers of his LiqWatch, he panicked. The strike of dread was so forceful that his heart almost stopped.


    The thought of his next steps filled him with fright, but he couldn''t just throw away his last efforts.


    It''s for the good of us all, as well as this planet, he thought. He stopped under a wall in the corridor and said, "I think Erilaz wants to speak with me." He reached his hand towards the door. "You''re free to leave now."Reading on Amazon or a pirate site? This novel is from Royal Road. Support the author by reading it there.


    "As you wish," responded Thelrim and headed towards the exit.


    Right before he left, he glanced at Ivendir. The king watched the rain, holding his hand near his mouth and waiting for Erilaz''s response. A blue light of his LiqWatch reflected in the window, illuminating the tiny drops of water.


    Thelrim walked out of the chamber, wondering how to process the new, unstable situation.


    Thelrim left the chamber and headed towards the exit a floor below. As he walked out at the small, outdoor square, a chilly wind blew at his face, and the smell of rain filled his nostrils. The square was surrounded by a wooden walkway and pillars carved from tree trunks propped the sloping canopy. The water splashed out of the roof gutters, while the thin blades of grass bent down as large raindrops fell from the gloomy, dark grey sky. The leaves of decorative bushes grew bigger and bigger, and their pale green buds gained more vivid colours.


    Only the Evergreen Tree under one of the walls didn''t change. It still grew at a snail''s pace, serving as a pillar for the canopy. The moss and lichens on it looked like flaked skin or soft green fur speckled with raindrops similar to round diamonds.


    Thelrim narrowed his eyebrows as he spotted the silhouette resting on the root of the Evergreen Tree.


    Hefri sat on the root, leaning on the trunk as if it were a backrest. Her long, emerald green dress waved as she swung her leg with boredom. She wore a rosy brown corset with darker plant ornaments and her wavy hair was tied up in a ponytail. A silver triskelion necklace proudly presented itself on her chest like it was the highest honour.


    "Your co-worker made a little mess," muttered Thelrim, passing her by.


    Hefri looked at him with aversion. "Maybe that''s because he didn''t receive any clear info? He didn''t know any context of that situation." She relaxed her face and averted her sight. "And overall, he''s Vardir." Her expression changed to dismissive. "There''s one person who''s responsible for giving him orders," she said in an instructive tone.


    Thelrim raised his eyebrow. "Did he..."


    "No disrespect," interfered Hefri in a fully disrespectful voice, "but that was a pretty half-baked action."


    Thelrim took a step back. He raised his hands and closed his eyes. "Who am I to argue with mighty Vardir Hefri''s opinion..."


    A little smile flashed on Hefri''s mouth. "I get it." She sighed deeply. "It''s been over two years, and you still can''t deal with being rejected..."


    "It''s not about success or rejection," reproached Thelrim, resting his hands on his hips. "King Brymir was unfair."


    Hefri fell silent. She only raised a corner of her mouth. "Unfair?" She looked at him in disbelief. "You were too clumsy during the final exam." Before Thelrim responded, she closed her eyes and shrugged. "You lost, I won, the king chose me, the story is over."


    Thelrim frowned subtly, and a flare of wrath flashed in his eyes. Hefri was right. He never recovered from this failure. When the results of the final exam saw the light of day, his family turned their back on him once and for all. He became worthless in their eyes.


    Hefri was always one step behind him but somehow she managed to win the Vardir Commander position. Thelrim couldn''t get over his weakness, so he tried to find a theory that would explain his lapse. He appealed against that result or sought evidence of Hefri''s dishonesty but all his efforts were in vain.


    "You were cheating," he muttered through clenched teeth, "I know you added something to my drink."


    Hefri stretched with her hands behind her head and leant on the tree. "I didn''t need to do that. You were weak enough without any magic powders."


    Thelrim snorted with a gloomy smile. Gazing away, he said dreamily, "I wish we could do it again... under more fair terms."


    "I see," began Hefri but a blast of thunder interrupted her. "I see no objection." She looked at him with sympathy. "But this still won''t make you the new Vardir Commander. This place is taken." She raised her eyebrow. "By me."


    "It''s only about making things right between us."


    "Cool." Hefri followed him with her eyes as he strolled away. She raised her wrist to her mouth as if she was talking to a LiqWatch. "We''ll be in touch."

 CHAPTER 3.4

    Erilaz marched along the castle corridors like a battering ram. Water dripped down his clothes and he left wet spots with every step. Soaked strands of his hair stuck to his face and his ponytail dangled behind him like a worn-out mop. The castle visitors and residents usually greeted him kindly but this time they only nodded and got out of his way. Everyone noticed his frustration.


    He approached the Ivendir''s chamber and tapped the display board next to the door as if he wanted to stab it to death with his finger. He stood there for a few seconds, clenching his fists.


    The door opened.


    "Erilaz?" Ivendir raised his eyebrow, standing in the doorway.


    Erilaz encroached inside. He waited for the door to slide shut and said, "I killed an innocent person." He pointed at Ivendir. "Because of you, Iv..." He exhaled deeply, calming his voice down. "Your Highness." He spread his arms. "I wasn''t prepared for this action..." He clenched his fists again and added, "I''m Vardir, not a peacekeeper."


    He tamed his nerves with a few slow breaths. Relaxing his hand, he asked in stride, "What was that about?"


    "I couldn''t prepare myself either," explained Ivendir in a gentle voice. "The call was sudden and the crowd was angry."


    Erilaz raised his ears and tilted his head slightly. "Why me? Didn''t you have enough forces responsible for it?"


    "You''re Vardir. Your voice is important."


    Erilaz narrowed his eyes with resignation. A strand of wet hair dangled in front of his face. "Is it still that important after killing that man?" He stood face to face with Ivendir, towering over the king. "I should know some background of it. What are their requests? Who were they talking with? Anything."


    "Didn''t the militia commander tell you?" interrupted Ivendir.


    "He tried," began Erilaz, wringing his hair, "but you rushed him like he was too stupid to tell me that personally." Drops of water from his hair dripped on the floor.


    "He''s not unerring," the king cut off. He raised his finger half-heartedly. "I decided that this action needs to be quick."


    Erilaz shook his head with a disappointed expression. "He''s the militia commander."


    "And I am the king."


    Erilaz sighed. He had no energy to argue, and he didn''t want to add fuel to the fire but according to him, Ivendir''s decision wasn''t exactly correct. In the end, getting conflicted with the new king wouldn''t help anyone so he decided to get a grip and stay silent.


    Ivendir lowered his head and closed his eyes. He brushed his fingers through his hair. "I''m sorry for that," he breathed.


    Erilaz hesitantly raised the corners of his mouth.


    "No, really." Ivendir reached his hand towards Erilaz. "I rushed this action a bit too much." He put his hands up in a defensive gesture. "Next time I will keep you away from the centre of events. You will be my... symbol of authority."


    Vardir lowered his eyebrow questioningly.


    Ivendir spread his arms. "Just stand still and look down at them."


    "And how about that man I killed?" asked Erilaz, glancing at the floor. "And the other victims?"


    "I plan to help their families, pay compensation..." Ivendir narrowed his eyes. "But we can''t just say sorry."The author''s content has been appropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.


    He didn''t have time to rethink the long term consequences. Compensation won''t silence the people forever. Some of them may start dwelling on the subject, and severe accusation won''t help him rule Helvetto in peace. He had had to stop the bloodshed before it gathered steam. He wanted to make Helvetto prosper, not suffer.


    He continued in a quieter voice, propping his chin in reflection, "We have to make it look like that was a necessary evil."


    Erilaz bit his lower lip in confusion and nodded with hesitation.


    Ivendir muttered, looking down, "They attacked us... we accidentally killed some of them... and then they will find something else to talk about."


    Erilaz''s expression became more gloomy. He averted his gaze. "And... that''s all?" he asked. Realising that getting angry won''t help him solve the problem, he relaxed his fingers. "But... yeah. We can''t risk a world-wide riot."


    ...Since I''m on thin ice too, he added in his mind.


    "That would ruin the reputation of us both." He shrugged and shook his head.


    Ivendir took a step towards Erilaz and raised a corner of his mouth. "I''m glad we understand each other." The king''s eyes beamed with mildness and understanding. "The procedure allows shooting if the enemy has a weapon." He reached his hand towards Erilaz. "Even if the weapon is fake but it looks realistic."


    He tried to put his hand on Erilaz''s shoulder but Vardir leant sideways, dodging his touch.


    Erilaz gently lowered his eyebrows. "Should that just silence my remorse?"


    Ivendir swung his hand. "It''s better to live with regret than... not to live at all."


    Another thunder blasted outside. Ivendir drooped his shoulders and sighed. He forgave Erilaz this temperamental behaviour. After all, Vardir lost his father. He had a right to throw a tantrum.


    "I miss him too," said Ivendir, avoiding looking into Erilaz''s eyes, "but I can''t express my emotions freely. I''m a public figure."


    Erilaz tightened his lips. He and Ivendir have never been best friends. Their relationship was cold but also civil and peaceful. He didn''t want to hold a grudge against Ivendir, but it was too early to forgive and forget such a stupid order. Erilaz''s trust was strained, and it needed time to regenerate and recover.


    "That''s all," said Ivendir.


    "Sure," responded Erilaz and headed towards the door.


    Ivendir watched how the door slid shut behind Erilaz. He exhaled with effort and turned around. He envied Erilaz''s freedom. As the new king, he had to present himself as a strong, unbreakable leader but the inner pain manifested itself secretly. Sudden surges of fear, dry throat and searing in the stomach reminded him of this tragedy all the time.


    I guess I can be honest with him. He will understand, thought Ivendir.


    Erilaz entered the square with a garden. The raindrops still struck the grass and leaves but lightning flashed far away with faint light. Erilaz walked under the canopy at a brisk pace like a beast of prey creeping towards its next dinner. He didn''t feel victorious at all. He gazed vacantly at the wooden floor below, focusing his hearing on the swoosh of the rain. At least the pleasant smell of the wet ground soothed his rough emotions.


    Hefri lounged around on the tree root on the opposite side of the square. Despite Erilaz''s quiet steps and the rustle of leaves, she heard him and turned her head. She rose to a sitting position and looked at him feistily.


    She asked, "Did you give him an earful?"


    Erilaz pretended to ignore that and continued to sneak behind the pillars.


    Hefri dragged herself on the ground and crossed her arms. "Erilaz?" she called louder.


    "What?" he responded without letting the floor out of his sight. After a moment he rapidly raised his head and looked at her. "Oh, yeah, I did."


    He sighed and lowered his eyes again. Talking with anyone was the last thing he needed. The events from the past week drained his energy. Even though he received the best training on Helvetto and he took supplements to toughen his body, his mind demanded at least a few short hours of rest.


    "Remember when we were young, and I wanted to be a leader who rules with negotiation, not terror?" he said carelessly as if he were talking to nobody.


    Hefri tilted her head. "What do you mean?"


    He turned his head towards her. "Exactly what you heard."


    Feeble beams of the sun pierced through a little hole in the dark clouds and the raindrops became slimmer. Dim, golden light shrouded half of Erilaz''s face and his soaked hair glittered.


    "I don''t want to rule with terror," he added. "Sorry. I''m busy. And tired." He yawned, covering his mouth with a trembling hand and headed towards the door on the opposite side.


    "Sure," said Hefri and smiled without even a flicker of joy.


    She did her best not to be angry at him but his grief was giving everyone a hard time. Trying to understand her friend, she thought about her parents. She left them when she was six because she qualified for the first preliminaries in the Royal Academy. The best students got high stipends, and Hefri''s family was desperate for money. After an accident, her father couldn''t earn a living and this responsibility rested with her. She had to hunt in the northern forests, and she enjoyed it but her father''s health always worried her.


    He really needs to get it together. Quickly, she thought. Their duties didn''t care about feelings, they had to be fulfilled no matter what and she understood that.

 CHAPTER 4.1

    Two weeks later Hefri came for a meeting with Thelrim. She was waiting for him in an empty, vast chamber. The lower part of the sand-brown walls was covered in a brown rubber and soft panelling lied on the floor. The glow lamps cast pale light on Hefri, making her black braid shine and glisten. She wore a blue training tunic and loose pants, but she didn''t wash off her daytime makeup. Navy blue shadow made her sapphire eyes appear larger and more fierce and purple lipstick sparkled on her narrow lips.


    Should I even dig up the past? thought Hefri, tightening her fingers on her arm. Our skills were the same, I was just lucky. She glanced behind, hearing dull steps in behind the door.


    Luck is tricky. She paused as the door opened. Does luck even exist?


    Thelrim entered the chamber. Hefri turned her head, smiling confidently.


    "At least you kept your word."


    Thelrim ignored her comment. He marched on and stopped when he was face to face with her, avoiding looking into her eyes. Sending her an inattentive glance, he took two grey gloves out of the pocket of his training tunic.


    "Just be fair this time," he muttered.


    "Or just be more skilled," responded Hefri, swinging her hand scornfully.


    Thelrim didn''t react. He put on the first glove at leisure.


    "You didn''t change much," she continued, standing with her arms crossed. "You''re still the same jealous kid."


    "I had good reasons," Thelrim grunted under his breath. He tightened and straightened his fingers, checking if the glove fits him well. Fighting the surging annoyance, he exhaled through his nose. The slight irritation turned into a long-buried wrath within an instant.


    "You and Erilaz were already the chosen ones," he spat out, clenching the second glove. "Brymir wanted you to be the Vardir Commanders from the very beginning. Andvari had to prove his skills but you all accepted him quickly." He narrowed his eyes. "And I? I was born in a noble house," he said with an emphasis on his origin, "but I had to struggle my whole life. I went far enough to be a candidate for a Vardir Commander."


    "Exactly," interrupted Hefri with a spark of triumph in her eyes. "Just a candidate."


    Pulling a glove on, Thelrim added, "Do I need to mention that the only individuals with a basic respect for me were King Ivendir and Imolvi? Andvari''s father?"


    Hearing his words, Hefri rested her hands on her hips and stood astride. A sudden disgust showed up on her face. "I don''t like when someone talks about this traitor who tried to kill the king."


    Thelrim turned his head and smirked. He pinched the soft spot of almost every Helvetto citizen, especially Vardir. That little victory was enough for a good start. Thelrim saved his strength for later.


    He spread his arms in a powerless gesture. "Death found him anyways."


    "We didn''t come here to talk," muttered Hefri through clenched teeth.


    She began to trot towards him. A sting of spite nudged her stomach. She sped up, getting closer and closer to Thelrim with every second.


    Thelrim charged towards her. He lifted his fist, getting ready to throw a punch. Their hands met with a loud clap. She blocked his strike, growling under her breath. Thelrim pushed against her with all his might, knocking his opponent off her feet. Hefri collapsed on her back.


    "Huh," she muttered and rolled over when Thelrim jumped to press her with his shoe.


    Despite the dull hum in her head, Hefri swung her leg. Thelrim avoided her kick and sprung forward, reaching his hand towards her. Hefri stood up shakily. The soft floor absorbed her momentum but her shoulders still pulsed with pain. After hitting the ground, her mind worked with a second of delay. That was enough for Thelrim. He gripped her neck and punched again. She blocked the punch, snarling with a guttural, choking voice. Thelrim tightened his grasp and wrenched his other hand, trying to break loose.If you spot this narrative on Amazon, know that it has been stolen. Report the violation.


    The lack of air slowed down Hefri''s reflex even more. Her heart pounded as if it wanted to shatter her ribs. The lamps on the ceiling began to multiply, fade or darken. It took her five seconds to devise a plan.


    She slid a part of his sleeve from Thelrim''s forearm and dug her blue, shiny nails into his hand. He hissed furiously, tensing his fingers. Hefri ran her fingers through his hand, clawing four long wounds.


    Thelrim pushed her away as the twinge and burning sensation overwhelmed his forearm. Red stains on his sleeve grew larger with every second. A little spark of fear pinched his heart. Hefri managed to hurt him, only slightly for now, but she was capable of doing more harm. He halted and pushed off from the floor. Ignoring the itching, sore wounds, he darted ahead.


    Hefri staggered, trying to keep her balance. She sprinted towards Thelrim in a bent position. A few steps away from him, she twisted her body to gather momentum and hammered her elbow into his stomach.


    Thelrim gasped. He punched Hefri''s head but his move was too weak to hurt her severely. The pain paralysed his body for a moment. He couldn''t take a breath, feeling a burning cramp in his chest. Clutching his fingers on his stomach, he blindly rushed at Hefri.


    The punch dazed Hefri for a second. The metallic taste of blood filled her mouth. Her lower lip pulsated with stinging pain. She coughed, and the red saliva dripped down her lips. She tensed all her muscles and struck a blow. Thelrim blocked her fist. He bent down and grabbed her leg, leaving bloody fingerprints on her pants. With tremendous pain in his whole torso, he moved like he was on autopilot. The lack of air made the dark dots and smudges flicker in front of his bloodshot eyes. Mobilising every aching muscle in his body, he yanked Hefri''s leg.


    At one moment the ground disappeared underneath Hefri''s shoes. Thelrim sent her in the air as if she was a rag doll. Her braid bounced similarly to a startled snake. Hefri only bent her hands backwards before she hit the floor. The feeling of breaking bones ran from her palms to her neck like an electric shock. Hefri hissed through clenched teeth. She relaxed slightly as the pain ceased, leaving only a pulsating, squishing feeling.


    The shadow of jumping Thelrim sobered her up. She pressed the ground with her hands. Her bones weren''t shattered. The impact only created this illusion, so Hefri gathered the impetus and tossed her knees towards her head, doing a backflip on the floor. Thelrim''s fist pounded into the ground. Hefri rolled a few meters away before Thelrim stood up.


    Hefri stopped and rose to her knees. She glanced at her opponent. "Fuck your tricks..." she hissed.


    She darted forward. Thelrim bent to knock her down like a battering ram. When they approached at a distance of a few steps, Hefri bowed down even lower and clenched her fingers on Thelrim''s arms. Taking quick, long steps, he pushed her but she kept her balance.


    Hefri took a rapid, deep breath and closed her eyes. The time seemed to slow down for her. That was her last chance. Thelrim''s strength improved since the last time they met in combat. Hefri pushed her feet into the ground, trying to resist, but her muscles reached their limit.


    She pounded Thelrim with her head. Covering his forehead, he staggered and hissed. Hefri landed on the ground in a crouching position and swung her leg. She swept him off his feet with a spinning kick.


    The view of the walls and lights flashed before Thelrim''s eyes. At one moment he found himself in the air and a split second later, he crashed on the floor. Even the soft panels didn''t help him much. Dull pain convulsed the whole right side of his body. He felt as if hundreds of hydrogen bombs exploded inside his skull. Blue, green and purple shapes could be glimpsed in the darkness even when he slightly raised his eyelids.


    Panting quietly, Hefri stood over him with her arms drooped. Runny, reddish slime streamed down her mouth.


    "Just to... be sure I won," she mumbled.


    She raised her leg and nudged Thelrim. He limply rolled on his back. Hefri coughed, spitting drops of bloody saliva. She wiped her lips, leaving shiny mucus on her sleeve.


    "Three... two..." she counted, taking deep breaths. Only when the adrenaline subsided and her muscles relaxed, she realised how strongly she hit her head. Pulsating buzzing in her mind sounded like a swarm of robotic wasps. Colourful dots flickered in her visual field with every movement of her eyeballs.


    "One..."


    She coughed once again. "My first victory... that may be just luck." She inhaled slowly, trying to calm down her still frantic heart. "But I can''t be lucky all the time... sometimes... it''s just skills."


    She turned around and added, "So don''t act like a rich kid who deserves everything."


    Taking slow steps, she walked away. The phantom shapes she saw became less and less clear. Before she reached the door, they had disappeared almost completely. Only her neck ached with every move, but her improved organs will deal with it soon too. The satisfaction that burst in her was soothing the last remains of pain. Strength and cleverness led her to victory. She proved herself that luck is just a mere trifle.


    Andvari taught me well, she thought with a tiny smile on her bloodstained lips.

 CHAPTER 4.2

    At the same time, Bjarni Arnorsson and Captain Ermdahr drank bottle after bottle, sitting on the top of a hill and talking about more or less important subjects. The sun was hiding behind the distant mountains, casting the last, timid beams on them. The grass and bushes stood completely still, illuminated by the golden light.


    "Weird how the whole factory case went silent so quickly," said Arnorsson. He sat with his legs curled up, resting his hands on his knees. His fingerless gloves, boots and leather jacket gave him a careless appearance even though this set costed way more than the monthly income of an average citizen. He lifted a purple opalescent bottle and poured its content down his throat.


    Ermdahr focused on birds crossing the sky in a V-shaped flock. His short, sandy hair was tied up in a pigtail, which made him look younger by half, and his green, simple shirt brought him closer to a peasant. Blending into the crowd was exactly his intention. Boring and detailed conversations with other officials would thwart his plans for an unproductive evening.


    "Are you still up to this?" he asked, vacantly gazing at the hills in front of him.


    Arnorsson lowered his eyes. "Someone has to set things right."


    "Aren''t you afraid?" Ermdahr grabbed a bottle.


    "Afraid of what?"


    After taking a few vast gulps, Ermdahr said, "I don''t know." He paused to swallow the burp welling up in his throat. "Death... maybe?"


    Arnorsson snorted and twisted his mouth. Standing face to face with death was his job. Most importantly, he put the good of Helvetto as the top priority. "Die or live under these commands." He rolled his faded eyes. "Plenty of choice..."


    Ermdahr lifted his bottle and shook it. Only a few droplets dripped down the glass. "Shouldn''t we find a more powerful ally?"


    Arnorsson stared at him with his eyebrows raised. "You''re the Vardir''s Captain, only the Commanders themselves are more powerful than you." He took a few sips, disregarding the Captain''s remark.


    Ermdahr tried to smile cunningly but his sloshed expression resembled a sinister cartoon villain. "Exactly."


    Understanding the Captain''s words took Arnorsson a few seconds. When he realised what he heard, he snorted violently, spitting out purple liquid through his nose. The alcohol left a few wet stains on his shirt. Clearing his throat, he wiped his mouth with his fist. "Don''t go crazy!" He knocked his forehead. "None of them will agree!"


    "I have..." whispered Ermdahr but Arnorsson pointed at him.


    "They possibly may disagree with him but they''ll ne...ver do what we plan." He pierced Ermdahr with a comically sinister stare. "They''re Vardir. They pledged jol... loyalty."Unauthorized reproduction: this story has been taken without approval. Report sightings.


    "I can try," said Ermdahr, spreading his arms carelessly. "I even know who will... who... who I will choose."


    Arnorsson exhaled. He had no chance to win an argument with his drunk companion. Accepting his failure, he said, "Then just... let me know."


    "Erilaz is out insant...in...stant...ly," began Ermdahr. He prised the cork off. It rocketed up with a popping sound, and the beer inside hissed like a furious snake. He leant towards Arnorsson, covering his mouth with his arm. "I know I shouldn''t say this. He''s my commander but... He may hesis...he...si...tate to make another dramatic decision."


    "Yeah. He''s not ready," Arnorsson tried to cut this discussion off.


    "And Hefri?" Ermdahr glanced towards a hill with the castle on top. "She''s pretty hard to control. She has do... to do it willingly." He looked questioningly at Arnorsson. "And how can we be certain of her intent?"


    Before Arnorsson gathered his thoughts, Ermdahr had raised his finger and continued, "I have one candidate." Ermdahr stared at the sky, smiling slightly. "He killed one traitor before, he may be able to do it again..."


    "Andvari?" asked Arnorsson in a thin voice as if he was taken by surprise. Shaking his head, he added, "We all remember his honourable deeds but..."


    "A little effort," said Ermdahr and raised his eyebrow, "and all honour will be his once more."


    Arnorsson shrugged and shook his head again. He understood he was a bit too drunk to make a critical analysis of this subject. He felt how his head sways like a log on the sea. Arnorsson was sure that Ermdahr wasn''t in a good shape too and he just speaks whatever comes to his mind. Despite Ermdahr''s condition, something in his words resonated with Arnorsson.


    Arnorsson''s head, however, was too heavy to let him think. He leant on the rock behind him, complaining in his mind, Ermdahr, stop drinking... please.


    Two minutes after hitting the ground, Thelrim finally moved. He rested his hand on his forehead. He felt an unpleasant pressure and twisted his mouth. A large, purple-red bump expanded on his head.


    No, he thought, not again...


    With a heavy sigh he lifted his upper-body. Then he rose to his knees. He heaved one knee, leaning his hand on it. Wiping his damp forehead, he took a deep, trembling breath. The blood on his sleeve dried a bit, leaving reddish brown stains. A little stinging ran down his scratched forearm. The pain almost left his body, but he had bigger things to worry about than a big bump and four deep scars on his forearm.


    I can''t be weak... He stood up, still covering his forehead. His legs quivered slightly. Damn it, I can''t be weak!


    He forgot the itchy feeling on his hand and the throbbing pressure in the right side of his body. Anxiety dominated his mind first, then expanded to his whole organism. He clenched his teeth, realising his failure.


    If I''m weak... He glanced at a few little drops of blood on the floor, I can''t protect Helvetto...and the king.


    A vivid memory flickered in his mind. He failed an important person before and the fear of the next failure clutched his heart. Andvari''s father, Imolvi Aldenarsson, sometimes appreciated Thelrim for his successes, especially when Andvari failed. Thelrim was the last one to believe in Imolvi''s treason. Imolvi always emanated with the aura of a clever and helpful neighbour. After some time Thelrim understood Andvari''s decision to kill his father but he was sure he could have found another solution. He decided he didn''t want to have anything to do with Andvari''s family ever since.


    If I couldn''t protect Imolvi, he said to himself, marching towards the exit, I may not be able to protect my world...

 CHAPTER 4.3

    Ivendir sat on the armchair, staring sleepily at the LiqWatch on the table. He wanted to go to sleep earlier today, but the feeling of approaching danger didn''t let him get a wink of sleep. Thelrim informed him about a meeting with an old friend, but he didn''t give any specific hour of return. That made Ivendir uneasy. His enemies could use this time to creep into his chamber. Two conflicting thoughts loomed over him: the loneliness, because his best guard was at the meeting, and the feeling of being observed even though the dark blue curtains covered the window.


    He shook his head and rested his cheek on his hand. He told himself that he exaggerated the danger. It was just a useless feeling, mere remains of his old accidents, a primal, animalistic instinct. Almost all Celestian children fear the darkness but almost none of them get devoured by some beast with ten eyes and razor-sharp teeth. Irrational or not, the fear still remained in him.


    A loud beep made him narrow his eyes and clench his teeth.


    "Huh?" he muttered, slowly moving his ears up and down to get rid of the dull buzzing. He tapped the acceptance icon on the LiqWatch.


    "I''m back, Your Highness," said Thelrim.


    Ivendir exhaled slowly and the tension left his muscles. He scolded himself for bringing up the unsettling memories again. Everything was in order, but he couldn''t prevent himself from imagining scary and dangerous, but also ridiculous scenarios. Somehow, a band of assassins didn''t charge into his room, his pillow didn''t explode and his castle wasn''t struck from the air.


    "Understood," he said and turned the device off.


    He headed towards his bed when a little thought appeared in his mind. What if...


    Ivendir narrowed his eyebrows and sighed with annoyance. He approached the window. Slightly drawing the curtain aside, he peeked through the window. The dark silhouettes of hills and mountains shaded the red horizon. Cities in the valleys brightened the slopes with a golden glow. Only a few birds flew over the castle, seeking shelter in the roof gardens.


    Everything is safe, thought Ivendir.


    He walked away and crouched next to his bed. He slipped his hand under the mattress. Lifting the pillow, he added, Everything in the right place.


    A feeble smile appeared on his lips. He stood up, giving the room one more glance, and lied on the bed. Soft, blue sheets wrinkled under his body and his maroon hair surrounded his head like a short veil.


    I guess I''m safe too... he told himself, gazing at the ceiling and listening to his own heartbeat.


    In the late morning one of the market squares was less crowded. The majority of citizens went to work and only a few Celestians stood in queues to the market stands. The smell of fresh baked bread and grilled meat mixed with soft scents of fruits and flowers scented the air. Two and three story tall tenement houses surrounded the square and a wide, thick tree in the corner cast shadow on two Celestians sitting on a bench in civilian clothes.


    "It''s pretty quiet, don''t you think?" asked Andvari as if he was talking to himself. He spun the leaf in his fingers, watching how the sky reflects in the drops of dew. The Evergreen Trees rarely lose their leaves, so Andvari played eagerly with his finding, paying attention to all its details.


    Erilaz stretched on the bench, placing his hands behind his head. He looked up at the blue sky covered with the tree branches. The chilly air filled with pleasant smells let him breathe deeply and relax his body. His grief seemed to die down and he was better able to concentration due to all of the sleep he¡¯d gotten. The dark circles under his eyes disappeared completely, and his hair shone like golden silk.


    He glanced at Andvari inquiringly. "Is that a bad thing?"


    "No, it''s good to be free from all those responsibilities," responded Andvari and stopped spinning the leaf, "it just feels... weird."


    Erilaz sighed. "Don''t get paranoid. Enjoy this peace before Ivendir comes up with something new."


    Andvari only twisted the corner of his mouth. The stressful time ended but his vigilance and unrest remained. Every Vardir was taught to remain alert and being in a state of absolute relaxation was considered reckless.


    He rested his cheek on his fist. "Hm," he mumbled and examined the leaf from the leafstalk to the tip, "look at this perfection. The Evergreen Tree." He raised the leaf on the line of sight. "As the name says, it never loses its leaves. And it can grow on bare rock or even on ice sheet." He turned the leaf to the other side. "The symbol we bear, the roots on the ice crystal... our ancestors had a brilliant idea with that. See, it''s big, old, almost immortal..."


    "Andvari," said Erilaz, trying to get his attention.


    "...just like Helvetto."


    "Andvari!" called Erilaz once again.


    Andvari glanced behind the leaf. Bjarni Arnorsson stood a few steps away, resting his hand on his hip. He wore a graphite knee-length coat and his favourite dark blue fingerless gloves. His purple mohawk was outspread like an old brush and his eyes expressed an extreme grudge and annoyance.The narrative has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.


    "Morning, Commander Bjarni!" called Andvari and dropped the leaf.


    "I''m glad you didn''t say Good Morning, Vardir," muttered Arnorsson, clambering on a thick root of the tree.


    Andvari raised his eyebrow and his silver, spiky piercings flickered. "Is that a bad morning?"


    "What happened," asked Erilaz with a curious but troubled expression.


    Arnorsson settled back on the root and began, "I went outside the castle to buy some liquor. That good one, from Voryva." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "Because the attendants have no damn clue about good drinks." He showed two fingers. "Then I was coming back and on my way I saw two guys fighting. That''s not very common in the workday mornings. Anyways, they were yelling at each other, then they started throwing things." He stuck out his chest and proudly pointed at himself. "So I, the law keeper and a good example for the citizens, approached them and said..."


    Spreading his coat, he exposed a large wet stain on his shirt and snarled, "or, more like, tried to say, because one of those scums threw an empty bottle at me!" Clenching his fists, he added in a heartbroken manner, "And smashed my last bottle of Basilisk Tears!"


    "Criminals..." hissed Andvari, while Erilaz only looked at his companion with an unimpressed expression.


    "And it gets worse," continued Arnorsson, raising his hand. "Do you know why they fought?"


    Erilaz pursed his lips in deep thought and Andvari muttered, "They..."


    "The first one accused the second one of a swindle, and the second one said it''s not his fault," chattered Arnorsson, "because he had no idea that taxes increased this night."


    "How much?" asked Andvari.


    Arnorsson leant towards him, speaking quietly, "Enough to make a mess in the banking system."


    After long moments of silence, Erilaz spoke up, "We all had enough money for everything, and the world prospered. Schools, hospitals..." He shook his head. "I don''t get it."


    For the last few minutes, he was carefully rethinking Arnorsson''s words. The king''s move seemed illogical to him but he explained to himself that Ivendir may plan a big, secret investment that will help Helvetto and its citizens. Sometimes even Vardir weren''t allowed to know about the most secret plans.


    Arnorsson lowered his gaze. His voice became suspicious. "I get the feeling that it''s just the beginning of... something."


    Andvari leant towards him, tensing his hands and gripping the edge of the seat. "A big revolution? A civil war? Or even..."


    "Nah, I guess he''s just greedy," mumbled Arnorsson, waving his hand carelessly. "...like a golden fork or a sapphire cup weren''t enough."


    Andvari lowered his eyebrows, glancing at Erilaz. "He was always so nice and big-hearted in front of King Brymir."


    "And he always said how he''s going to bring justice and well-being..." added Erilaz half-heartedly.


    "Hm..." Arnorsson glanced down with a poorly hidden smile. "I wish we had someone else to guide us," he recited in a whisper.


    Erilaz and Andvari looked at him with unwillingness as if they just heard a cheesy, unfunny joke.


    Arnorsson reached his hand. "No, no, it''s not what you think. I meant some kind of leader in a more..." He narrowed his eyebrows and lowered his voice again, "... spiritual or philosophical way."


    He wiped his forehead and closed his eyes. "Sorry, I''m tired. I had a... hard night," he explained, recalling his last discussion with Captain Ermdahr.


    Erilaz looked at him, a bit worried by his weariness. "Commander Bjarni, if something is going on, tell us."


    "No." Arnorsson leered at Vardir as if he heard a biting remark. "Or at least, not here."


    "Where?" Andvari demanded an explanation. "We need to know if we should be cautious."


    Arnorsson sighed and looked away. "That sounded worse than it should..." He leant towards the two Celestians and said in a low voice, "I recently deepened my knowledge about this famous conqueror."


    Andvari winced. "What?"


    "Which one?" asked Erilaz and a twinkle of unstoppable curiosity flickered in his eyes.


    "The Chromed Emperor," responded Arnorsson, trying to hide excitation with all his might.


    Closing his eyes with fatigue, Andvari moaned, "But he''s on the other side of inhabited space..." At that moment a cold shudder of concern ran down his spine. He opened his eyes. "Is he dangerous to us?"


    His words provoked new thoughts in Erilaz''s mind. Inhabited space measured over one thousand lightyears and travelling across it took over three months. Not many individuals ventured further. The only things awaiting them were cold, empty space and dangerous radiation. Erilaz wondered why Arnorsson mentioned The Chromed Emperor since Helvetto and his tiny Empire had nothing to do with each other. Erilaz knew the Empire existed but he, just like other Helvettians, didn''t care about it. He kept listening anyways.


    "I don''t think so,"responded Arnorsson. "But look at his leadership. He managed to unite a dozen different worlds, and we''ve known him for only seven years."


    Andvari helplessly spread his arms. "That''s interesting, but what should we do about it?"


    "Study and learn." Arnorsson narrowed his blue eyes. "Others may sense our slip up." He lowered his voice. "I''m not trying to panic, I just want to be careful."


    Erilaz reached his hand and spoke up again, "If we have, or are going to have a problem, we should be prepared."


    "Oh, come on..." Arnorsson drew his coat aside and patted the gun on his belt. "Don''t take that too seriously. Protecting everyone is my job, and I may get overprotective." He giggled quietly, covering himself with his coat again.


    "We''re Vardir," said Erilaz in a soft voice, scratching his chin, "if something goes wrong we should know it first."


    "His greed." Arnorsson clapped his knee. "That''s what¡¯s going wrong right now." He flipped his leg through the root and stood up. "Take care," he added with a slight, comforting smile and walked away.


    Erilaz sat in silence, pressing his fist to his lips. Andvari leant on the backrest and rested his hands on his stomach. Late mornings were his favourite time of the day. The streets weren''t crowded anymore, but the market booths still sold some delicious and aromatic products. He slowly inhaled through his nose, relishing the smell of cookies with fruits of the forest. Andvari planned to buy them later, but he was in no hurry since only two Celestians waited in the queue.


    He agreed with Erilaz. He should enjoy the peace. Erilaz''s hunched, focused posture suddenly caught his attention.


    "What?" asked Andvari, glancing at his friend.


    "The Chromed Emperor," muttered Erilaz, glancing at the ground in concentration. "I heard about him." He raised the corner of his mouth a bit. "But I need to know more."


    The tiny smile quickly disappeared from his mouth. His instincts spoke up again. The thought of Moryans, the mysterious Emperor or hordes of savages gave him a cold shiver. He fought his first serious battle just a dozen days ago and he was already sick of war and violence.


    Erilaz narrowed his eyebrows and exhaled carefully, focusing on every muscle in his chest. He didn''t want to recall these memories.


    "Since that may save our world one day..." He stretched on the backrest, laying his head on his hands and observing the sky. "...from Moryans or anyone else."