by R. T. Cole
“Heh heh, that’s funny,” Victor said between his coughs. “I was pretty sure I was dying...”
Andemar’s smile faded. The man, who had helped raise him, as well as his brothers, was soon gone from this world and there was nothing he could do to help.
“Don’t despair, Andemar. I’ll be moving on to a better place. I shall see my friends again in Volsi.”
“But, we need you,” Andemar admitted. “Father has grown frustrated with taking on your role, and with Thasus and Rudimere gone, I believe Father will continue to struggle.”
Victor sighed. “Vandal will be alright,” he tried to convince Andemar. “It was my idea to give you lads more to do to help the family prosper. Your father didn’t take it well at first, but he warmed up to the idea.”
Andemar began to realize that his grandfather had a hand in his new post. He wanted to thank him, but at the same time, he wanted to confirm that he wasn’t given that job because of a lack of trust. A silly thought, he contemplated. He had his own family to think about, and his father and grandfather only helped with the matter.
“Grandfather, do you think that I should’ve gone along with Rudi, or even Thasus? I may have been able to help them.”
“Don’t worry, Andemar. We gave you what you wanted, but not only that: we gave you what you needed,” The King revealed. “You need your family just as much as they need you.”
Andemar was, once again, overwhelmed with gratitude. The thought of leaving his wife and children behind and going off to war was a scary thought. There would never be a guarantee that he would come home again, but such was the life of any soldier. But, he wasn’t entirely a soldier. The men respected him, but at the heart of it all, he knew he would always be thought of as royalty and just another heir to the throne.
“I still think that I could help in some other way, Grandfather. Kelbain is going to gather his strength, just as we are gathering ours.” He remembered his promise to Maryn, and knew that he should tread lightly when speaking about such matters. “If there’s anything else that I can do from here within the city, I must know,” Andemar pleaded.
Victor looked at his grandson with great pride. He sighed again and began to lean towards Andemar so that he could be heard.
“Rumor has it there is a Foreseer in Angelia,” Victor divulged.
Andemar was taken aback. Many thoughts occupied his mind, but he longed to hear his grandfather’s reasoning for that information.
Victor continued, “There have been reports that a shop nearby the blacksmith contains a fortune-teller.” He noticed the look on Andemar’s face at this news. “I know what you’re going to say, and yes, these same reports speak of this fortune-teller being a cheat... but there are those who say otherwise.”
Andemar knew of this fortune-teller, but never bothered to step foot inside the shop.
“Grandfather,” Andemar began to say, “How does this affect me and my desire to aid in the war?”
“If the rumors are true, then we will need this person’s assistance,” Victor conceded. “If this person is an actual Foreseer, with any luck they will have all the abilities of one as well.”
Andemar knew that he was referring to the three abilities of a Foreseer. Out of all the types of Sages in Areon, Foreseers were considered the most versatile. Watchers, Pathfinders, and Sensors fell beneath the Foreseer class. Watchers had the ability to actually peer into the future, although these visions weren’t always accurate. A Pathfinder could locate any object or person with a thought; they made useful trackers in the wilderness, or at most times, the person would use their ‘talent’ to become a thief. Sensors, having the simplest of abilities, had the power to sense another Sage in their vicinity.
Andemar still wondered why this person would be of any help. Using these abilities for any reason would surely mean something terrible for their people. A sudden realization dawned on Andemar: he had grown up with a strong dislike for Sages, just as his father tried to instill upon him and his brothers, but if this conversation was any indication, he never knew that his grandfather approved of them.
“Grandfather, am I to assume that you’re okay with the people of Angelia utilizing a Sage’s abilities for aid?”
Victor looked stunned. “No, Andemar. I’m okay with you utilizing their abilities.” The King began to cough uncontrollably again, but finished within a few seconds. Andemar attempted to help his grandfather lie back down. Victor obliged, but then waved his grandson off, as he was still trying to speak. “The people should be kept in the dark about this, as should your father.”
It was Andemar’s turn to be shocked. “Keep Father in the dark?” he asked. “Why?”
Victor was breathing a bit heavily at this point, but continued to reveal his thoughts.
“Your father is not one to believe in the old tales, Andemar.” He closed his eyes gently for a moment, and then opened them again as if he had sudden clarity. “The Mystics were real,” he confessed.
This was a topic that Andemar never thought he’d touch upon with anybody, including his grandfather. There was no way that this tale was true, no matter how many older folks would speak of it.
“Perhaps you need your rest, Grandfather...” Andemar placated the King.
Victor shook his head and began coughing again. This time, his breathing suffered for a moment or two before he regained his strength. He reached out for Andemar’s hand and grasped it within his own.
“I’ll be resting soon enough,” Victor said with sadness. “Right now, you need to hear this.” Andemar nodded his head in agreement.
“Many people believe that Magor, the former ruler of the West, was born in Areon, but it’s not true. He was from another world, not of this one,” Victor said. “If you had seen and heard him that day, you would’ve known for yourself.”
Andemar hung on every word, almost refusing to believe what he was hearing, but his grandfather spoke with such sincerity, it was hard to deny.
“I never told your father this, but I was frightened of Magor, as anyone should’ve been back then,” the King admitted. “But, I found the courage to protect my friends in the end. Even when he shattered my sword after turning it to ice, I still fought him.” Victor’s breathing became ragged. “It may not sound like much, but the reason I know he wasn’t of this world, is because he referred to us as ‘mortals’.”
He was right, Andemar had thought; it wasn’t much to go on. A man like Magor would, no doubt, have been cocky enough to think he were a god of some sort. But, Andemar believed his grandfather and began to wonder why the Sorcerer would’ve made such a comment. The King started to speak again.
“Go see this supposed Foreseer, Andemar,” Victor pleaded with him. “Find out everything you can. All of it will be useful. I know it. Help stop Kelbain at all costs.” Victor’s breathing slowed down. “That’s your true mission,” he said weakly.
Andemar noticed his grandfather beginning to fade. Sadness and grief overpowered him, but he observed that his grandfather was attempting to say something else. He leaned closer to the doomed King.
“Tainted... blood. Will... of... Ragnarok.”
A cold shudder, followed by anguish, came over Andemar as he watched his grandfather, East King and Hero of the Sorcerer’s War, pass into legend.
Chapter 9
STONESHIELD
The familiar sight of the nearby town excited them all, especially Rudimere. It was always a wonder to behold the mountains that towered around Stoneshield. By this point, Rudi and his Dragoons knew that word already reached the town of their arrival, as they could hear the people from outside the walls, bustling about. It sparked confidence in them to hear the people of Stoneshield so enlivened. Wishfully, they hoped that the people were readily preparing to aid in Angelia’s strike against Kelbain and his forces.
Rudimere, Paxton, and Ashra still rode on the front lines, leading the Dragoons to their destination. As the rest of the men and women displayed the traditional white
armor of Angelia, Rudi and his close friends wore the colors of their respective houses: Rudi closely matched his soldiers, but he also wore his blue cloak emblazoned with a white horse, as any member of the Palidor family would do; Ashra continued to wear her green, scaled mail, but also wore a white cloak, both symbolizing her place as a representative of Triton and Angelia; Paxton, being a Knight of Angelia, wore Angelian armor, but like Ashra, he wore a white cloak. He also exhibited green gauntlets with golden tridents, forever reminding himself of his original home in Triton. Moving through the mountain pass, the three of them soon approached the city gates.
“Will your uncle be hosting a feast for us, my lord?” Ashra asked Rudi suddenly. “It’s nearly time for supper.”
Rudi gave her a sideways glance, wondering if she were serious or not. She smirked at him.
“I seem to remember the food being wonderful at The Shield’s great hall. Though, it’s been a long time since I’ve been there,” Ashra said.
Rudi noticed a hint of sadness on her face at the mention of her last visit. He wasn’t sure what that meant exactly. But, her mention of ‘The Shield’ made him chuckle to himself. Only people of the East would refer to Stoneshield by that name. The town had received that designation by acting as Angelia’s last line of defense throughout times of war; and to this day, no army had ever passed through Stoneshield and arrived at Angelia in battle.
“When were you here last?” Paxton asked Ashra.
Ashra shifted atop her horse at the question, which didn’t go unnoticed by Rudimere and Paxton. She seemed to be avoiding the topic, however she answered them.
“Well…of course I had to pass through here on the way to Angelia. But, I stayed at the inn for a night and then left early in the morning,” she explained.
Rudi and Pax exchanged looks. Rudi figured that Pax was thinking the same thing he was: it was odd that Ashra wouldn’t have made the Lord of Stoneshield aware of her stay there. The three of them had spent frequent amounts of time with Lord Marc’s sons, Rudimere’s cousins, during their visits in years past.
Ashra was the first one to dismount from her horse when they arrived at the city gates. “Now, let’s see if the Lord of Stoneshield sent anybody to receive us,” Ashra said as she changed the subject.
Rudi and Pax followed suit, dismounting from their own horses. Rudi took the lead in their approach at the gates, pulling down the rope that attached to a bell at the top of the battlements, notifying the sentry of their arrival.
“Who requests entry?” the sentry yelled to the visitors below.
“Lord Rudimere Palidor of Angelia!” Rudi shouted back to the sentry. He motioned toward his companions as he spoke of them, respecting the customs that required introduction of any Lords and knights. “Lady Ashra of Triton, and Ser Paxton Korba, Knight of Angelia!”
The sentry nodded and waved a hand to an unknown individual below, which Rudimere assumed to be another Stoneshield soldier. As the gates of the city parted ways, allowing the group a view of the interior, they noticed a single man standing paused. The young-looking man stood the same height as Rudimere, but was of a visibly muscular build. He had a large amount of stubble that enveloped his face, and also sported wavy black hair that almost reached his shoulders. Displaying the customary house colors of Stoneshield, the man was adorned in white armor that contained a black bear on the chest plate.
Although Stoneshield and Angelia gifted their soldiers and Lords with similar armor, the biggest difference was that the color of the armor in Stoneshield was always compared to more of a grayish tint. Presumably, this was due to the soldiers of Stoneshield having more experience in battle and training than those in Angelia because of their role in Angelia’s defense, thereby bearing armor that seemed to look more battle-worn.
The man walked toward Rudi and his entourage, his sword with a pommel of a black bear’s head clearly visible on his side. He stopped right in front of Rudi and stared for a moment. Rudi stared back. As this went on for a few more seconds, the young man spoke.
“How long do you think you can keep this up, cousin?” he said as a smile began to accidentally form across his face.
“I’ve had a lot of time to practice the art of brooding,” Rudi replied in a mocked seriousness. The man laughed at this.
“Damn it, Rudi! I almost had you!” he said as he embraced his cousin. “It’s so good to see you.”
“It’s been too long, Jasian,” Rudi said fondly.
As Jasian let go of Rudi, he turned towards Paxton and Ashra. He reached out to grasp Paxton’s arm. “Paxton, you’re looking well. How fares Angelia?”
“Protected, for now,” Pax replied as he took Jasian’s arm in respect. “As long as we can keep Kelbain at bay.”
Jasian showed a look of concern. He had almost forgotten why they had come to Stoneshield, as he got lost in the excitement of seeing all of them again.
“Yes, of course,” Jasian said. “Sad state of affairs going on right now,” he said as he drifted away for a moment. He looked up again and noticed Ashra waiting for a greeting. “Lady Ashra,” he said with an almost melancholy tone.
“Lord Jasian,” Ashra replied, mirroring the same voice.
Jasian looked as if he became a bit flustered, but caught himself right away.
“Right,” he began, “Father is waiting in the hall, supper is on the table, and we can all enjoy some well sought-after time together,” Jasian said as he put a hand on Rudi’s shoulder. His cousin returned the gesture.
“See, Ashra? Supper awaits,” Rudi said.
Ashra shot him a scathing look, noticing that Rudi’s comment was meant to bring levity to the awkward situation. She formed a fake smile, gritted her teeth and said, “Yes, my Lord.”
Along with Ashra and Rudi’s playful, yet earnest, dialogue, Paxton remained silent throughout the exchange. He began to grow suspicious of the circumstances and stared at Jasian with disapproval. He had always felt that he and Ashra were meant to be together, even as children. Her father rarely allowed her to spend time with commoners, but once Paxton was sent to Angelia to train as a knight, he gained the respect of the Lord of Triton and hoped to one day propose to Ashra. However, years went by without Paxton ever truly admitted his feelings to her. During times of drink and merriment, they would laugh and toy with one another, but it seemed to Paxton that Ashra never became aware of his affections; and all the meanwhile, he couldn’t bring himself to tell her himself.
After spending some time taking their horses to the stables, Rudimere and his group followed Jasian to the great hall of Stoneshield. The walls in the room were quite different from Angelia; they were dimly lit with just a few torches and the dark gray stone gave off a dreary appearance. The one comforting sight in the room was the amount of house banners that adorned the same walls. The banner of House Bowlin contained a white castle on a blue field and a black bear standing in front of the castle facing out, symbolizing Stoneshield’s duty to the city of Angelia. Seeing this brought back many memories to Rudi, as he spent much time here as a child, visiting with his younger cousins and learning everything he could about Stoneshield. He remembered a time when he asked them why their soldiers’ armor was so dirty, and Jasian’s older brother, Merroc, brave and loyal as he always was, became quite upset.
“They’re fighting to protect your city!” Merroc had declared. “Pity your soldiers and their pretty white armor haven’t even seen a battle!”
Though they were very young at the time, Rudi never forgot that day and how troubled it made him feel that he didn’t know everything there was to know about the world they lived in. In a way, he had blamed his father for sheltering him from those issues, but from that point forward he vowed to be of more use to his family. This was why the Bowlin banners comforted him; they reminded him that he had finally done what he set out to do.
As his attention lowered from the walls in the room, Rudi saw the supper table that had been laid out for their arrival, but also noticed the
individuals sitting patiently. Merroc Bowlin, though five years younger than Rudi, seemed to have aged rapidly since the last time Rudi saw him; his face was scruffy and his black hair was still short and messy, but he bore two distinguishable scars that must’ve been somewhat fresh: one that ran down his right cheek for little more than a finger length, and another that came across his left eye, though Merroc’s eye seemed to remain intact. Sitting across from Merroc was his mother, Hana. Rudi always remembered her to be a gentle, kind-hearted person, but being the wife of Lord Marc Bowlin also meant that a different side would come out during feasts and the like; Rudi’s Aunt Hana was known to be quite amusing to witness at those events, and he wondered which version of her would be at supper.
“Nephew! You’ve arrived!” The man at the head of the table stood up quickly, eager to receive his guests. Marc Bowlin, Lord of Stoneshield, was a very intimidating man, as he was not only a tall man, but just as fit as his two sons. His voice was also something to behold as it boomed within the great hall. “Hana! Merroc! They’re here!”
His wife and son also stood up to greet Rudi, Ashra and Pax. They were all glad to see one another, though there was some tension behind Merroc’s gaze. After a few moments, they all sat down to enjoy a meal together.
“How do you all like the venison?” Marc asked the group.
“It’s delicious, my Lord,” Ashra replied. Rudi and Pax nodded in agreement, silenced by their appetites.
Marc looked over to his son with pride.
“That’s courtesy of Merroc’s hunt earlier today,” he said.
Merroc sighed at this, while Jasian rolled his eyes. Rudi noticed the exchange on all fronts, and he was sure everyone else did too.
“Father, please,” Merroc said, annoyed.
“What? A man can’t be proud of his sons’ accomplishments?” Marc said. The sound of his voice betrayed a hint of something underlying.
“It was a hunt, Father,” Jasian began to say, “It’s nothing out of the ordinary for any of us.” Jasian formed a confused expression on his face. “What are you up to?”
