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The first reception feast exceeded Kemrin’s expectations. On every table in the great hall were gargantuan platters that were filled with exotic food of all kinds. From Umbran, there were honey-roasted chickens, smoked beef coated in spicy tomato sauce, and salads decorated with edible flowers. From Valai, there were roasted ducks and geese, sweet meat pie served with figs, and juicy racks of lamb. From Aemarr, there were mountains of Leedsicthys caviar served in large bowls made from giant clam shells, smoked fish meat coated in butter and rare herbs, and boiled sea scorpions that were as big as a person and simmered with rich goodness. From Storuuk, there were roasted venison, pheasant, and rabbit as well as apple and strawberry pies. From Varland, there were bread baked in hot volcanic soil, roasted puffin breasts, and fiery wine and brandy from Varland’s legendary vineyards. Overall, it was a feast that was befitting such a royal wedding.
In addition to the divine food, there were even more entertainers than the rehearsal feast and they ranged from singers, minstrels, acrobats, dancers, jesters, jugglers, pyromancers, and sword swallowers. Each one of the performers displayed breathtaking prowess in their art, which left the guests in awe. Just when everyone thought the performers ran out of tricks, they produced something new in their acts.
While watching the entertainers, Kemrin enjoyed as much food as he could get his hands on. His chalice was filled with wine, which was initially smooth and sweet until it punched Kemrin in the mouth with spiciness and produced an aftertaste that left his teeth tingling. The goose was so juicy that it relaxed his mind until it was as fluffy as a cloud. Upon sampling the caviar, Kemrin was presented with a nutty and salty flavor that tickled the back of his throat. The venison was tender, juicy, and gamey while the rabbit tasted like smoked chicken without any herbs. With dessert, Kemrin enjoyed the crunchy shell and sweetly saucy interior of a strawberry pie. In general, the meal was so delicious that Kemrin could not stop smiling from the pleasure.
Kemrin then turned his attention to Lyra, who looked bored while drinking a chalice of hypocras. Curious, Kemrin asked, “Why are you so down, Lyra?”
“They expect us to be happy because we got married, but I feel more miserable than ever. I am stuck with a faithless philanderer for the rest of my life. Is that reason enough for me to be down?” Lyra asked coldly.
Next to Lyra, Erik Rosa glared at Kemrin and venomously said, “You better not lose the rest of your battles, Kemrin of the Gold Phoenix. I want to fight you at some point for my sister’s honor.”
Smirking, Kemrin countered, “Likewise. I look forward to it, Erik of the White Rose.”
After that exchange, the trio returned their attention to their respective meals. At the far corner of the lord’s table, Kemrin could see Ymir watching Regan Baal with dreamy eyes. Kemrin chuckled at his sister’s obvious affection for the former Prince of Umbran. However, Kemrin saw that Regan was eagerly talking to a few of the barons at one of the tables. Regan was not usually open towards others and yet he was being very friendly towards those particular barons. What disturbed Kemrin was that the barons Regan was talking with were among the rebels who had been defeated during the uprisings.
Why would Regan be so chummy towards a group of former traitors? Kemrin thought.
Kemrin rose from his seat and walked around the lords table towards Regan and his new friends. Upon reaching Regan, Kemrin asked, “Are you gentlemen enjoying the festivities?”
Slightly surprised, Regan and the barons turned their attention towards Kemrin. Regan answered, “Aye. We are. How about you, my prince? Are you happy with your new bride?”
“Aye. It will take some getting used to, but I think we can make it work. What are you talking about? Anything interesting?”
“We’re taking wages on who will emerge victorious in the joust on the final day. Some of these lords are wagering entire fortunes.”
Kemrin eyed Regan for any subtle change in his expression, but Regan’s face remained as unchanged as the likeness of a statue.
Shrugging, Kemrin said, “Just don’t bet against me, all right? I am your prince, after all.”
Regan and the barons nodded as Kemrin turned away. As Kemrin returned to the lord’s table, he thought, I’ve known Regan my whole life and I never took him for someone who would spend time with former traitors. My father hinted that he suspected him of treachery, but could never find any evidence to support his suspicions. Still, father has always been paranoid of potential treachery after fending off so many uprisings. Maybe his paranoia is infecting me.
Kemrin continued to ponder on these thoughts even as he sat back down at the lord’s table and watched the festivities intensify.
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Resting on top of a mountain that rested along the border between Gaena and Raevor, High Prince Gyran Sylva made camp next to a large boulder. A small yet comfortable campfire danced in front of him while he wrapped himself in his cloak. He stared at the blade of his longsword as the light of the moon and stars glittered off it.
Gyran’s sword was a weapon fit for a High Prince. The blade was the best castle-forged steel and was as polished as a new mirror. Shiny gold and rubies formed the pommel and crossguard while the handle itself was made of antler. The Sylva sigil was emblazoned in both the pommel and the elegant ring that rested on Gyran’s finger.
In the light that flashed from his sword, Gyran imagined the supposed glory that awaited him in the northern kingdoms. Chuckling, Gyran mused, “Just you wait, father. I will rid the world of the Magnus threat and I will prove myself the heir you deserve.”
A deep growl erupted on the other side of the mountain’s summit. Gyran turned to the source of the noise and saw the shadowy figure of his monstrous mount. The mysterious beast was as large as a towerhouse and rippled with well-developed muscles.
In deep thought, Gyran commented, “They say the Magnuses form deep bonds with their dragons and their dragons could also talk. It’s not the same with you, demon. With you, I just imprint my will on you and you just do whatever I want you to. I don’t feel any emotions from you, nor do you speak. I know you are not going to take this personally, but I think you are duller than a dragon. I just hope you are as formidable as my parents claim.”
The creature did not answer, which made Gyran feel lonelier on the mountaintop. To occupy himself, Gyran returned his attention to the light reflecting on his sword.
CHAPTER 11
A week later, the final day of the wedding tournament was about to come to an end. The last contestants of the joust were Kemrin and Erik, who were astride their respective mounts. While Kemrin still wore his signature armor, horse, and equipment, Erik was in a league of his own. Erik’s armor was red with mother-of-pearl trimming; a silver rose was emblazoned on his breastplate, shield, and helm; and a collection of silken scarlet and white streamers flowed from the top of his helmet. Erik’s horse was a beautiful white mare clad in crimson armor and velvet. Overall, Erik was a picture-perfect image of a prince, just like Kemrin.
This was a duel that both princes had waited for. A rose sought to defend its honor while the phoenix sought to prove its innocence. The tension in the tilt yard was so intense that it could be cut with a knife. All around the arena, the audience held their breath, waiting for the horn to blow.
Just you wait, Prince of the White Rose. I will prove to you and Lyra that your accusations mean nothing to me. I am a Prince of Umbran and a descendant of the true Imperial Family. I answer to no one! Least of all you! Kemrin thought as he focused through his visor and tightened his grip on his lance.
After what seemed like a tense eternity, the horn for the joust sounded, and the two princes struck their horses with both spurs as hard as they could. They galloped towards one another at full speed, yet time seemed to slow down for the two combatants. It was as though this one duel was going to either solidify the northern alliance or destroy it.
Then the two knights struck one another in the chest in an explosion of spl
inters, knocking them both off of their horses. Kemrin and Erik landed violently into the dirt before slowly forcing themselves back to their feet. Since they were both dismounted, that meant that their match had to continue on foot until one of them yielded or was incapacitated. Their squires ran to them with new shields and weapons. Kemrin was given his princely longsword while Erik was given a schiavona with an intricately crafted basket-hilt. Both of them received circular shields that bore their family sigils.
As Kemrin and Erik approached one another, they struck their blades against their shields, bellowing with rage as they psyched themselves up. Then the final duel began. Kemrin swung at Erik, who blocked with his shield before thrusting with his schiavona. Raising his shield, Kemrin barely deflected the tapered blade, and pushed against Erik with all his might. With Erik off balance, Kemrin was on the attack again, yet Erik narrowly managed to evade a horizontal swipe that would have broken his shoulder. Once Erik regained his balance, he countered with a barrage of swift thrusts, which Kemrin defended against with his shield.
After several minutes of brutal clashing, Kemrin and Erik stepped away from one another. They circled each other as they searched for an opening. However, their fall from their horses combined with their duel so far had taken a toll on their stamina. Both princes stood hunched over and panted heavily as they fought to stay on their feet.
“Do you still have energy left, Erik? I can keep this up all day!” Kemrin said in between pants.
“You think I will yield to the likes of you? I will keep fighting until you are face-down in the dirt!” Erik declared.
“Then let’s let the final blow decide the outcome! Do not hold back! Hit me as hard as you can!” Kemrin challenged, smirking behind his helmet.
Roaring with determined fury, Kemrin and Erik charged at one another with swords raised above their heads. As they ran, the two princes even discarded their shields before gripping their blades with both hands.
Suddenly, when the swords clashed, their blades shattered like glass, with shrapnel flying in every direction. Even with their weapons destroyed, Kemrin and Erik rose again, ready to punch one another with what remained of their hilts.
“Enough!” a voice ordered from the main balcony.
Kemrin and Erik lifted their visors and saw Numen standing up from his chair.
“This has been a wondrous display of combat and honor! Since both knights are dismounted and disarmed, I hereby declare them co-champions in the joust!” Numen announced triumphantly.
All of the spectators cheered with joy at the news, but Kemrin and Erik continued to glare at one another venomously.
“This isn’t over, Prince of Umbran!” Erik protested.
Smiling, Kemrin countered, “I welcome the rematch any time, Prince of Valai.”
Erik then changed his demeanor into a warmer one, saying, “As much as I disapprove of your mistresses, I have to admit you fought well.”
Smiling warmly, Kemrin replied, “You too.”
Both princes discarded their broken swords and embraced one another, chuckling. All of a sudden, a chillingly roar that sounded like the scream of a demonic hyena erupted from the sky. Everyone looked up into the sky to find a pale figure soaring towards them. When it breached the clouds, the mysterious creature’s form was fully revealed.
The unholy abomination was as pale as death and completely hairless. Its tail was like a lizard’s while its hind legs were like a goat’s. Rippling muscle coated its arms and torso while its hands were tipped with black talons. On its shoulders was a pair of giant bat wings that were large enough to eclipse the sun. Its head was like a lion’s with bull horns sprouting from its brow. Sitting on the monster’s back was a knight dressed in purple and gold armor and brandishing a glittering sword.
The beast unleashed another cold roar before firing a beam of lightning from its mouth that seared through the tilt yard and into the main balcony. All of the spectators fled in terror at the unexpected attack and the surrounding structures were set ablaze. The dragons roared in shock and fear at the chaos, a few breathing fire out of reflex and taking flight. The only dragon that did not flee was Vaerox, who was watching the main balcony. Kemrin and Erik shielded their eyes from the initial blast, but looked again in horror as the main balcony burned.
“Our families are up there!” Erick exclaimed.
Running towards the wreckage, Kemrin shouted, “Father! Lyra! Ymir!”
Kemrin and Erik jumped through the flames and climbed through the crumbling stands. Around every corner they found multiple dead or wounded people, nobles and commoners alike. It was like a sight from a battlefield. When they reached the main balcony, Kemrin and Erik saw the chamber split in half by fire. On either half of the balcony, the surviving members of the northern royal families were sprawled on the floor. In the burning center of the balcony were charred human remains.
Wasting no time, Kemrin and Erik started carrying as many people as they could. Shortly afterwards, Daegar, Caelum, Vaeron, Thanon, and Marek rushed in to help evacuate the survivors. By the time they were done, the princes counted the survivors. The only members of the northern royal families who endured were all of the princesses, Queen Mya, Prince Walter, and Ymir. They all suffered injuries of varying degrees, but were otherwise alive.
“Is this everyone who survived?” Caelum asked frantically.
“This is all we could find! The rest must have died when that beast attacked!” Marek snarled, clutching the Donard crown in his hand.
“I did not see Father among the remains! Where is he?” Vaeron exclaimed.
“Look!” Kemrin shouted, pointing at the sky.
Everyone looked at where Kemrin was pointing and saw King Numen on Vaerox’s back, taking to the skies. In Numen’s hands was the black blade of Gramfyre, the Imperial Sword of Power. The dragon and the king soared towards the mysterious beast, which was blasting the surrounding areas with lightning.
“What should we do?” Caelum asked, turning to Kemrin.
After a moment’s hesitation, Kemrin answered, “Summon your dragons! We are going to help Father!”
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Numen gripped tightly to Vaerox’s neck as they charged towards the invader. As he held Gramfyre, he could feel its magic leeching off his life force to fuel its power. It was a weapon that empowered and weakened him at the same time. Still, Numen did not let that stop him from doing what needed to be done. He concentrated on the mad beast with fierce determination.
“What in the name of all the gods is that thing, Vaerox?” Numen demanded.
“I don’t know, Monster Slayer, but it is almost as big as I am! I wonder if it is as powerful!” Vaerox mused as he continued to flap his wings.
“Only one way to find out! We need to kill that thing while we have the chance! Forward!” Numen ordered, pointing Gramfyre at their foe.
“As you wish!”
Vaerox flapped his wings faster and blasted the invaders with fire. The monstrosity shrieked in pain as its bare flesh burned. With their enemy in agony, Numen and Vaerox rammed into the unholy abomination in a thunderous clash. The force of the impact was so great that Numen was nearly jolted out of his saddle. As the two beasts wrestled in midair, they tried to tear out one another’s throat. Numen then unfastened himself from his saddle and climbed along Vaerox’s writhing neck with Gramfyre in hand. The chaos of the brawl was so intense that Numen was barely able to keep his footing. To make matters worse, Numen could feel Gramfyre’s magic starting to debilitate his stamina. It was taking everything he had to keep him from falling.
I can feel my strength fading fast. Gramfyre is finally exacting its toll on me. I need to end this fast. If I can take out this creature’s rider, I might end this attack right now, Numen thought to himself.
Vaerox squealed in pain as the abomination sank its fangs into his neck. Through their mystical bond, Numen could feel a jolt of agony surging around his throat as though Numen was being bitten instead of Vaerox. The shock
briefly made Numen stumble before regaining his balance.
After fighting to breathe again, Numen hoarsely called, “Hang in there, Vaerox! If I slay its rider, the creature should flee!”
Summoning what was left of his stamina and calling upon Gramfyre’s magic, Numen continued to climb until he spotted his target. The enemy rider was brandishing his gilded sword, pointing it as Numen.
“Numen Magnus, you Imperial Pretender! Today, you will give me my father, the Emperor’s, grace!” the rider boasted.
“You may be a High Prince and I may be an Imperial Pretender, but you are destroying my home, endangering my family, and threatening to undo everything I have built in Umbran! Today, one or both of us will die!” Numen declared.
Gramfyre’s black blade burst into flame as Numen leapt from Vaerox’s neck and lunged at the High Prince. As the two combatants drew closer, the High Prince raised his sword in an attempt to parry Numen’s upcoming strike. Then the moment of contact came. The High Prince failed to block Gramfyre, which seared through his wrist and the right side of his helm. Screaming in pain and horror, the High Prince alternatively clutched either his maimed wrist or ruined face. Having partially missed his mark, Numen flew past the High Prince before falling towards the arena below.
As Numen fell, he watched as the pale beast fired a lightning blast while biting down on Vaerox’s neck, decapitating the dragon. Through their mystical connection, Numen could feel a part of him die with Vaerox. It was a void that would never be full again.
Letting Gramfyre slip through his fingers, Numen thought, So this is how the Monster Slayer’s tale ends . . . it was a life worth living. Goodbye, Vaerox. I will be joining you in the void soon.
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Gyran screamed in agony as he ripped off his helm and clutched his face with his remaining hand. The dragon’s headless corpse fell off of Gyran’s chimera, revealing severe burns on the chimera’s chest. As he regarded the situation, Gyran felt bittersweet feelings about the current state of affairs. Gyran may have killed King Numen and his dragon, but he lost his sword hand and half of his face in the process.
The War of the Gilded Beasts Page 8
