by J. M. Topp
‘The pass cannot be sealed from daemons, my prince. I was there at Estia Fortress in King Ayland’s army when the Fog first landed. They rode upon dark clouds and shot to the ground in pillars of fire and ash,’ said Hamlin, as if reliving the experience once more. ‘We were at war with Aivaterra, but when their armies arrived to fight ours, it was clear who the real enemy was.’
‘Where are the Aivaterran armies now?’ asked Rickert.
‘They are weakened, and their city is destroyed. Though the Aivaterrans were able to take it back, it will be long before they are ready for a war against this daemonic force. Reports are that they are rebuilding the city, little by little. For now, we cannot depend on them, nor would any surviving Weserithian choose to side with them, I can guarantee you.’ Anger was clearly visible in Hamlin’s eyes.
‘So you’ve come to us.’
‘We defied the legends and naysayers that said this city didn’t exist. We have dug through the impossibly difficult pass. We have travelled leagues to reach this city. Even now, my people wait in the forest not far from your very gates, seeking an answer. Will you grant us asylum?’
This time Rickert turned to his sister. She whispered in his ear: ‘If you want to improve relations with the humans, an alliance would be the best way to do so. I do not think invading Eldervale is the right choice—at least, not yet. If this man is right and it’s not our fight with the daemons now, it will be our fight eventually.’
Rickert turned to Hamlin but didn’t say a word. The entire Council of Alestaeyn kept their silence, awaiting the prince’s words. A quill could have fallen to the floor and been heard like a loud bell. Finally, Rickert nodded at Hamlin. ‘A favour for a favour.’
‘What is it that you ask of us, my prince?’ said Hamlin with a bow.
‘You have conducted yourself equitably, Hamlin, despite our unfortunate outburst. I think the spell of silence indeed should be broken between our people. The evil your forefathers did to our race will never be forgotten, but the bitterness my people harbour will be assuaged, and perhaps, in time, a true friendship could be borne between our people. There is a new era of peace on the horizon, where man and elfen will once more live in harmony.’
Some of the advocates and even a few primarchs began to clap.
‘We will help, but building an army takes time,’ warned Rickert.
‘I am very well aware, my prince,’ said Hamlin.
‘So be it. From this moment forward, I declare the people of Weserith and the elfen of Felheim to be allies!’
At that, the majority of the council erupted into cheers, and only a few primarchs and advocates who had been protesting earlier remained silent. Advocates began to shout Rickert’s name over and over again. Hamlin smiled at him.
But then, High Primarch Morrenwylf stood.
‘May I speak, Prince Rickert?’ asked the high primarch, his lip curling as he said Rickert’s name. Morrynwylf removed the wolf mask from his face and set it on the chair behind him. He then dug his hands into his sleeves as a coy smile rested on his face. Rickert forced a glare off his own face and merely nodded at the primarch.
‘There is no room in our city for the number of refugees this man has with him,’ said Morrenwylf. ‘How many exactly, Hamlin?’
‘Two hundred and eighty-six, not counting women and children.’
Morrenwylf snickered and put his hands together. ‘The prospect of an alliance is attractive, I will admit, but is it in the best interest of Felheim? Where would we even house so many humans?’
‘We only ask for temporary housing, while we coordinate the return to Eldervale. Our people do not want to stay in the Cairn of Winter forever,’ said Hamlin.
Rickert ignored Morrenwylf and looked at Hamlin. ‘The refugees you have with you may take the Sapphire Quarter for now. Be warned, our city is in the aftermath of a civil dispute. Some areas, such as the Sapphire Quarter, are mostly destroyed. You will have to rebuild it to live in this city.’
‘The Sapphire Quarter was a gift your father, King Atmerys Feldyr, gave to the elfen people,’ protested Morrenwylf.
This time Rickert did not hide his disgust. ‘That was before the elfen people decided it was better to kill each other than preserve the gift given to them. The Sapphire Quarter is a ruin filled with rats and ghosts. Despite what it once was, there is very little left, save for mud and rubble.’ Rickert squeezed the wooden balcony railing. His broken finger ached as he did so, but he ignored the pain. He then turned to Hamlin. ‘It may not be much, Hamlin, and for that, I apologise.’
Primarch Morrenwylf wasn’t finished. ‘But who is their leader? This man has no title and no land,’ he said, pointing at Hamlin.
‘I have just given him land, High Primarch,' said Rickert. A gasp rippled through the council.
'This is our sovereign land, young prince; you cannot give away land to refugees,’ said another primarch beside Morrenwylf.
Rickert noticed the looks of the council members not wearing masks. If he were to beat Morrynwylf here, he would need them on his side.
'You are right, High Primarch,' he said, stifling the need to vomit. 'Felheim is sovereign, but these humans will die without our help. Though in the past my father was ruthless in his dealings with outside forces, I am not my father. Be not deceived, however. I am not doing these humans so good a favour by giving them the ruins of our great city. They will toil the land they own, but perhaps with this gesture, there can be peace between the peoples.'
‘And what of his title?’ asked Morrenwylf, his face growing red.
Rickert sighed. ‘That is a good question. What of your title, Hamlin?’
‘He is of no noble blood; that much is clear,’ said Morrenwylf with a sly grin. ‘Is there no one worthy of a title in your midst?’
Hamlin swallowed and then shook his head. ‘No, there is not. King Ayland’s line has been ended. We have a shortage of heroes, it seems.’
‘How can proper negotiations occur?’ said Morrenwylf, stretching his arms to his sides.
Rickert looked down at his feet and then at Noreadryyn, who was sitting to his left. She looked back at Rickert and nodded knowingly.
‘I am afraid my high primarch is correct, Hamlin of the Weserithians. Without a proper title, there can be very little in the way of negotiations. Do you have a surname, Hamlin?’
‘None, my prince. My father died in the Kingsfury war along with my mother when I was not yet named.’
Rickert nodded. ‘Then it cannot be helped. Hamlin of the Weserithians, I would name you king of your people.’
Morrenwylf’s face went from red to white. His eyes turned red as he stared at Rickert, but the high primarch did not say a word. Rickert glanced back at Hamlin, who had the same look on his face, but for a different reason.
‘On the morrow, I would crown you king of your people. As for the Sapphire Quarter, I am afraid it does not live up to its name.’
‘We are humans, my prince. We can make a living out of just about anything.’ Hamlin bowed. ‘I am deeply honoured you think me worthy of kingship.’
‘It is more out of necessity than qualification, King Hamlin,’ said Rickert. ‘But the coronation may prove to be just the show of our alliance we need. Go back to your people. The gates will be opened to them. However, with this mercy, I also give you a warning. Any man or woman that violates the bounds of Felheim law will be served justice. It will be swift and without exception. You will be the one responsible for all of them.’
‘I promise you, my prince. They will obey me.’
‘It is settled then. Advocate Estmund?’ Rickert turned to the advocate, who held a scroll in his hand. With a candle, he poured wax at the very end of the parchment. Rickert lifted his seal in the air, allowing the rays of light to dance upon the golden branch, and then he set it on the scroll.
‘So be it! Let the alliance be born from this edict!’
The council erupted in a roar of applause and the shaking of hands. Morrenwylf sa
t down in his seat with a look of utter confusion. Hamlin bowed one last time and made his way out of the Council of Alestaeyn Chapel.
Rickert turned to Rhiannon.
‘By the gods, Rickert. You sounded like a primarch,’ she said.
Rickert felt faint. ‘I…I did?’
‘You were—’
‘Exemplary, Prince Rickert,’ said Advocate Estmund. ‘You are truly becoming the man your father wanted you to be.’
Advocate Estmund smiled and rolled the scroll up in his hands. Noreadryyn walked up to Rickert and bowed. ‘Every word was measured and well said, even when faced with criticism,’ she said, glancing at High Primarch Morrenwylf.
‘You have started something no one ever thought would happen,’ said Estmund.
‘What is that?’ asked Rickert.
‘Power. Can’t you feel the shift?’ said Noreadryyn with a mother-like smile. She touched Rickert’s cheek lovingly. ‘You have begun to take power back for yourself, young Rickert.’
RICKERT COULDN’T HELP but grin. How he had been able to keep his composure and speak as he did during the hearing, he would never know. Advocates and primarchs sought his presence afterward, asking for advice for their own holds and quadrants or to declare their fealty to him. High Primarch Morrenwylf was nowhere to be found, and for that, Rickert was grateful. Rhiannon stood by his side, and for the first time in a long while, she smiled wide. A warm, tingly feeling took hold of Rickert, and it wouldn’t let go.
‘Congratulations on peace, Prince Rickert,’ said one of the primarchs. ‘I look forward to your coronation day.’
‘How much longer?’ asked an advocate.
‘A few months, if I am not mistaken.’
‘Why not tomorrow? We crown two kings at once! One an elf and the other a human,’ said a primarch, shaking his fist and smiling.
It was too much for Rickert to understand all at once.
Noreadryyn walked up beside him.
‘Young prince, it is way past your bedtime.’
Rickert looked at her. ‘But, headmistress—’
‘You did well, young prince, but you must also get your rest.’
‘I did, headmistress. All day, in fact. My hand is feeling much better now, honest.’ He held up the bandaged hand.
Noreadryyn smiled and shook her head. ‘Very well, mingle with the court. Your sister, however, does not have the same excuse.’
Rickert glanced at Rhiannon.
‘I am fatigued, and I hate these clothes, so I will go.’ Rhiannon threw her arms around Rickert’s neck. ‘I am so very proud of you, dear brother.’
‘Wait,’ said Rickert, summoning his courage. He tapped the shoulder of a palace guard. ‘I want you to escort these two to their quarters. If anyone gets in your way, you have permission to kill them. Do you understand me?’
The palace guard knelt and put his hand to his heart. ‘As you wish, my prince. For Blood and Branch.’
‘For Blood and Branch,’ said Rickert, putting his hand to his heart as well. He watched Noreadryyn lead Rhiannon out of the Council of Alestaeyn Chapel, the palace guard close behind.
‘Well done, indeed, Prince Rickert,’ said the Kindler, putting his hand on Rickert’s shoulder. ‘Like everyone in this chapel, I am pleased with how you handled the situation.’
‘I appreciate that you agree, Kindler.’
‘I won’t be the only human amidst your people anymore. It is an odd feeling.’
‘It’s not like you will be treated differently, Kindler,’ said Rickert, looking up at his mentor.
‘I hope not. I would like to help with the rebuilding of the Sapphire Quarter, with your leave, of course.’
‘I don’t see why not.’
‘Good,’ said the Kindler with a kind smile. ‘I will go and greet my people.’
Rickert watched the Kindler exit the chapel.
Advocate Estmund was the next person to speak with him. ‘Now that you are this much closer to becoming king, the armies must be built up once more. The factories have been shut down, as per your father's command.’
‘I want them reopened immediately.’
‘The ideology your father had...about the technology being dangerous—’
‘He was right to shut them down, but now we need those factories again. Our enemy should never have been our own kind, but now with daemons roaming Eldervale, we must act. A common enemy causes great strides in technology. We should adapt to this urgency.’
‘Very well said, my prince.’
‘How long will it take?’
‘Well, to build the army back up, and to have as many tracks as your father once had, it would take at least a few years.’
‘A few years?’ Rickert’s jaw dropped. ‘Why would it take so long?’
‘The technology invented by our forefathers was lost in the civil conflict. All we have left to work on are the remnants of parchments left over from before the civil war. We have to build from the ground up.’
‘And in the meantime, the daemon army grows stronger and stronger.’
‘Take heart, young prince. I will send spies to Weserith. Perhaps the soon-to-be King Hamlin will send some as well for a coordinated effort.’
‘Make it so, Advocate Estmund.’
‘Yes, my prince,’ said Estmund. ‘Given time, we will take the war to the daemon army.’
Advocate Estmund smiled and walked away in the same direction the Kindler had. A shadow of doubt came over Rickert. He didn’t know anything about the daemon army except that they occupied the city of Weserith. For the rebuilding of the elfen army to take years, however, was not something he had expected. Rickert sighed and began to make his way back to his chambers.
Two guards followed him. It was strange for him to walk the streets without the watchful gaze of Noreadryyn or the company of his sister. He rounded the corner of the road and gave one last look at the Council of Alestaeyn Chapel. Candles were still lit on the inside. Court members began to make their way home. Rickert turned to the castle and walked up the stairs.
He dismissed his guards and knocked on the wooden door to a secret room. Kazu answered the door and opened it slowly. Once she realised it was Rickert, she held it open for him.
Rickert entered and saw Korhas relax his grip on a spear.
‘Don’t mind him. Too cautious,’ said Ayda, jumping off the bed and hugging Rickert.
‘We heard the news,’ Korhas said, giving him a tired smile.
Ayda looked at Rickert. ‘I was up on the rafters of the council chapel. I thought you saw me when you looked up.’
‘You were there?’ asked Rickert.
‘Sure was.’ Ayda nodded playfully.
‘I may not need to assassinate Morrenwylf anymore.’
‘Oh? Why is that?’ Ayda craned her neck.
‘I don’t just want him dead. I want everyone to know why,’ said Rickert. ‘I want a trial.’
‘Aw!’ protested Ayda. ‘I already planned how I was going to kill him! I was going to lure him into an alley and then tie him up. Korhas would get rid of his guards, and then I would cut off every one of his toes first, then his fingers. Then I would gouge his eyes out. Oh, but I would cut his tongue first, because I wouldn’t want him to scream for help, obviously, and then—’
Rickert held his hand up and grimaced.
‘That’s not… No, Ayda. I don’t want him to die like that.’
‘Why not?’
‘Despite him being the monster he is, I want him to face the Council of Alestaeyn first. Then you can do whatever you want.’ It was good to feel justice within his grasp, no longer living at the mercy of the high primarch.
‘I have good news as well,’ continued Rickert, taking the frilled collar from his neck and tossing it onto the floor. ‘You may stay with the humans in the Sapphire Quarter. You no longer need to hide in this room. But you, Ayda...’
Ayda looked at Korhas and then back at Rickert.
‘No room for us cursed ones, eh?’<
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‘I can’t control that, Ayda. You have all been relatively nice to me’—he glanced at Korhas—‘but you, Ayda, would be rejected by my people if they knew you were here. You must stay in the palace.'
Ayda frowned but then nodded. ‘I thought I wouldn’t be cooped up all day.’
Korhas sat on the bed and began to sharpen his spear. Ayda looked into Rickert’s eyes.
‘So about earlier,’ she said, looking Rickert up and down.
‘Umm, what?’
‘You know what.’
‘Ayda, I—’
‘What is it?’ she asked, confused.
‘I’ve never even kissed a girl before—’
But before Rickert could finish his sentence, Ayda came closer and kissed him. Rickert’s body went stiff, but he didn’t stop her. She opened her eyes and smiled.
‘Can’t say that anymore.’ She hugged him tightly. He went fully red.
‘You’re torturing the prince, Ayda,’ said Korhas.
‘Korhas, you spoil the fun.’
‘Fun will be had later,’ said Korhas. ‘You should return to your chambers, Prince. Ayda, you must practice.’ He stamped the bottom of the spear on the floor. Rickert frowned, but Ayda turned him around and walked him to the door.
‘Fine. Get some rest. I will see you in the morning,’ said Ayda as she shut the door to the room.
Rickert blushed. Ayda was a peculiar kind of halfling. The young prince smiled, but then doubt clouded his mind. What would the council think if he were to marry a halfling? He frowned. It was too soon to think of things like marriage. There was an army to build, and he would have to be supervising it. He walked to his royal chambers, but when he reached the doors, no guards were posted outside. Rickert clenched his fists. When he found the guards who were supposed to be there by the royal chambers, he would have them flogged.
He opened the chamber doors.
‘Rhiannon?’ he called, but nothing stirred. Their beds were made, and the fire was not burning. Only a candlestick was lit the royal bedroom. Rickert looked back down the long hall. Not a sound could be heard.