TBoG - Chapter Two: The Messenger

Few know the palace as well as Carras. Upon exiting my quarters, he leads us off the main corridor and onto a smaller, less occupied one. His pace is quick. I walk behind him, pondering the events of the last few days.1

Only three days have passed since my arrival. However, I have been kept busy. I have met with nearly every noble family, welcoming and praising me for my heroism. Their gifts litter my room. Father has quickly incorporated me with matters of the state, acting as if I had never left. And now this, it seems sudden.2

I have little time to see the many decorations and ornaments that give life to the otherwise dull, gray stone. I do notice more servants and guards. Something really is happening...3

Our party grows as nobles, also summoned, join me. The highest among these is Rodan the short and stocky General of the Eastern Army. He’s good-natured and an influential man who has served father well. I motion for him to walk beside me.4

"Welcome back to Dregoran, Prince-heir. I'm pleased to see you well and fit," he says in his gruff voice.5

"It's good to be back. I see you well and prosperous," I reply in the traditional greeting. The words can be changed depending on the person and situation. Rodan's numerous rings, necklaces and bracelets show that jewels were discovered deep in the mines of his distant mountain home. 6

“Ah, these trinkets?” he asks looking down at them, “they're decorations my wife demanded me to wear. Word of advise, don't get married.”7

We both laugh at the irony. The whole kingdom has heard tales of how Rodan won the heart of his wife. He told me the story many times when I was young. I had forgotten how amusing it was to speak with Rodan. His stories would always cheer me up when I was down. 8

"What of your children?" I ask.9

"They're well. I'm a grandfather now," he answers, his smile is infectious.10

"Congratulations!"11

"Thank you. Emmith gave birth to a boy. How heartily he cries!" he exclaims cheerfully.12

"Emmith?" She wasn't married when I last saw her.13

“Ah yes, you've been away so long. Emmith and Trem wedded almost a year ago.”14

“I'm glad to hear it.” I'm not surprised though. Those two had their eyes on each other for a long time. “What's the boy's name?”15

"Somarius, after you."16

"Me?" I feel the corners of my mouth widen. A child named after me.17

"You've all been friends for a long time. They respect you so they decided to call their son after you."18

"As I respect them. I'll go meet little Soma when I have the time," I reply, wondering what kind of man the baby will become.19

"Emmith and Trem would be overjoyed to see you."20

"It's been a while since I've seen them.”21

“Two years is a long time.”22

I've been gone playing soldier for two years and many things are different. What else has changed? How's Kerain?23

Rodan chuckles, shaking his head. "What is funny?" I ask curiously.24

"I remember when you and the whole gang where little. You were quite the mischievous one," he replies.25

"Aye, that's because I made sure everyone knew what I did. The others were more...secretive. Did you ever discover who burned down the royal stable?"26

“Never did it.”27

“What if one of your own did?”28

“Hernam?”29

“He was never bold enough to do it.”30

"Trayden?"31

"He was only a toddler."32

"Then it had to be...no, Emmith? The little rascal swore she hadn't done anything. My wife scolded me for making her cry. But I was right all along. I think she and I will have a long chat."33

"Remember, I said noth-"34

"Of course you didn't say anything. It happened long ago anyway. Besides, I did far worse in my childhood." he smiles mischievously looking eerily similar to Emmith's when she misbehaved. The apple doesn't fall far from the tree. What is worse than burning down the royal stables? I do not want to know...35

"But look at you now, grown into the man I knew you'd become. You're a hero," Rodan continues.36

Those words stab deeper than any sword. Two years ago, I left this city, leaving behind all the trappings of power, to prove my worth. I joined a newly formed legion and after months of hard work, became its captain. I return home with honors and the King's blessing. Yet this new fame came at a price.37

There was a rebellion. The legion I led was closest to the rebels. We met them in battle and came victorious. However, we lost hundreds; men who would have become fathers, farmers, blacksmiths, carpenters. 38

I am praised for leading my men on the plains of Meridoe, for slaying their leader, my own brother. The image of plunging my sword into his chest, watching his life ebb away, remains in my mind. I thought I had buried these memories...39

"I wish I had done things differently," I say slowly. Yet deep down I know that he would not have been swayed. Once brother made up his mind, he did not change it. What I don't understand is why. Why would he lead a rebellion against a people he loved. His answer was just as puzzling. 'Many things have been set in motion. You are at the center of it. I did what must be done to prepare you and for that, I gladly give my life.'40

I feel Rodan's hand on my shoulder. It gives me strength.41

"You did what you had to, the soldiers duty is to protect the people he fights for. I know it's hard to bear but had you not killed him, more would still be dying."42

"I know. Rodan, what do you know of this meeting?" I ask, pushing my thoughts to the matter at hand.43

"Very little," he replies but his face shows that he knows something.44

“But?” I prompt.45

"The king has ordered the marshaling of the troops."46

My step falters, fear and excitement battling within my mind. From what I've gathered, there's a messenger from the border, a hastily called meeting, the marshaling of the troops. "That can only mean..."47

"Aye," he replies, returning to his place. "It's been forty years since a Dregonian king has ordered the marshaling of the army. I wasn't old enough then but I am now." 48

A few more corridors and we reach our destination. The hall's doors are ajar, showing a gathering of nobles. My hands brush at my robe, removing wrinkles before we walk into the fray. 49

The assembly hall is peculiar in its design. At its far end of the chamber, below the Dragon banner, lies the King's throne. It is in the lowest of five tiers. Those with highest importance sit closer to the throne. The top tier has no seats. Instead, it has a railing where people can lean on. Regular citizens allowed to attend these meetings would congregate here.50

I've always found this room fascinating. Father calls it, the room of humility. "A king and those of noble blood must be reminded that despite the power they wield, they serve the best interests of the people. Pride is one of our great banes. We who carry this great responsibility can't be allowed to look down on those who follow us. That kind of attitude is a deterrent to wise and peaceful ruling. How a simple act of looking up at those who would otherwise be below you, reminds one of the great responsibility we bear," or so father would say. He is beloved by all and I hope to be a king as just as he.51

Currently, the fifth tier is occupied by excited - and rather shallow - nobles. A medley of sweet perfumes and musky odors assail my nose; my eyes are assaulted with various color of robes - both a small foretaste of the banquet. 52

Few have taken their seats, content in gossiping the latest news. I walk past them, muttering greetings until I reach the railing. Their eyes on bore against my back. I suppose they're surprised at how much I've changed. I hate being the topic of discussion...53

Leaning against the sturdy railing, I glance downwards, smiling at a few friendly faces. The king sits impassively on his throne, exuding power and confidence, waiting patiently for all to arrive. Our eyes meet for a brief moment. He flashes a barely perceptible smile. It's been a while since we've spoken with each other as father and son. We were busy with the fanfare and official reception during my triumphant return to this city to have time to converse. Since then, duties to our people have kept us apart.54

I turn, nodding to the chamberlain standing by the entrance in his eye jarring red robe. He takes a small bell, ringing it. Its soft chiming echoes in the enclosed room, quieting the nobles. They make their way to their seats, each according to their rank. I follow suit, leaving Karold behind where he can measure the mood and reactions of the assembly. Once I sit down - I'm the only one on the first step - the king stands, raising his hands in greeting.55

"My friends, I hope you are all well," he says in his deep, eloquent voice. His dark eyes scan the assembly as a few sound hearty agreement. Father isn't tall, I surpassed his height when I was twelve. However, he carries himself in a manner that he'd sway the assembly with his presence and words.56

The King is dark-skinned and handsome - or so women say. Small wrinkles dot his face, showing his advancing age. His graying hair and thick mustache are smoothly trimmed. The shade of his robes is darker than mine with patterned designs inscribed in gold. No jewelry adorns him outside of a small crown he loathes wearing.57

"Thank you for coming with such promptness," he continues. "Not long ago, a messenger from the border arrived. The news he brought has caused me to order the marshaling of the entire eastern army.” The crowd gasps in shock.58

“Please do keep quiet. The army is to meet at Daddan in five days,” father continues. “However, you must hear the messengers' report with your own ears. Guard! Bring the man in so he can give us his message."59

A guard ushers a thin man down the assembly hall. A long billowing silver cloak covers the impressive armor of the king's imperial guard. His eyes constantly moving as if expecting assassins to jump out from every shadow. His immense bulk moves lithely, poised for anything. 60

The man he accompanies seems small and pathetic in comparison. He looks tired and out of breath - must have traveled long and hard. As they reach the bottom, the guard leaves the man, marching to a wall, keeping watch over the assembly. 61

The messenger feels our eyes, causing him to shrink within himself. "Speak man," father says encouragingly. 62

He steps forward, standing as high as possible. Clearing his throat, he begins, "My noble men and women. My name is Edd son of Nars overseer of the Marten province. 63

I'm stationed at the Verdan Border Outpost. It is where we border both the Eagin and the wastelands. For months, we and the Eagin have sent scouts to survey the wastelands and monitor the tribes closest to us. Under the best of circumstances, we would lose a scout or two who strayed too deep and got caught.64

Of late, we've seen less of these tribes and we don't know why. We took this opportunity to scout deeper. One would think that less tribes means losing less troops but it was quite the opposite. Since then, fewer and fewer scouts return. We sent out more, better prepared with the same result," he says stopping to take a deep breathe. "One morning, we heard the cries of one of the scouts that ventured out on a morning run. What we found...scared us," he stops once more finding it difficult to keep going.65

"All those men that went out...were caught, mutilated and...eaten. Everything except their heads...which remained intact. They put the half eaten bones in...baskets, stuck the heads on poles and left them a few hundred cubits from the great wall for us to discover."66

The quiet room is filled with strangled cries of anger and sorrow as the people murmur amongst themselves, appalled by the news.67

"You bring us grievous news, master scout Lars," father says, his voice rising over the assembly, silencing the crowd. Turning to look up at us, he says, "But that is not all my fellow people, keep going Lars. 68

Edd clears his throat, "We buried the men as best we could. As I prepared to come and report these occurrences, we caught a man. No, he allowed himself to be caught. He requested to see our king and said nothing else despite our attempts."69

Father motions another guard identical to the first, to bring down the prisoner. The captive is tall and lithe. It is apparent that his is unaccustomed to our clothing. His hands are bound by iron shackles but he ignored them. Something about him that makes it difficult for me to ascertain his age; all I know is that he isn't young. His face seems familiar for some reason…70

His eyes scan the assembly; eyes of a feral beast looking at defenseless prey. Some of the women recoil at his gaze, the men grip their swords warily. As he nears the bottom step, his eyes rest on me. His face reveals little but this eyes sparkle in curiosity. More importantly, a slight shroud surrounds the man.71

For as long as I can remember, I've been able to detect the difference between normal people and mages. They have a shroud that surrounds them, the stronger they are, the less defined the shroud. Few know that I have this strange ability. Father says that the shroud is the power that leaks from their bodies. Thus, those with great power have no shrouds. How I wish I were born a mage like brother...72

I glance at father noticing that he is looking at me. He nods knowingly, so he is aware that this messenger can wield magic. The captive reaches the bottom step, bowing slightly to the king.73

Another guard follows them, carrying a large wicker basket. He sets it before the messenger and marches to his companions. 74

“Is there a TruthSeer among you?” the King asks the assembly. “Even a novice would do?”75

Is there a reason for being so cautious? He must want to ensure that the man speaks truly. Truthseeking is a battle of reality and perception between the seeker and the teller. 76

A fair young woman on the third tier raises your hand slowly. “I can TruthSeek,” she says timidly. The monarch beckons her down, calling for a chair for her to sit while she seeks. She is attractive, good curves, soft, white skin, long blonde curls. Her eyes look determined, eager to be of use to the King. I catch the whisper of those in the assembly; her name is Ella from Jovenfield, home of the TruthSeers. She is of the same bloodline as Gerath, the first seeker of truth.77

"Welcome to Dregoran,” father addresses the captive. “Pardon me for my rudeness but you can understand that we don't have much time. Thus, I hope you can answer us truthfully.” 78

The man nods. “What are you called?" asks the monarch. The man opens his mouth to answer but stops. "Do you understand our language?"79

"I do," the man replies.80

"Then answer my question."81

"I am called Andrej Dregoran."82

The assembly erupts in anger. Why does this man bear the name as I? Is that why he seems familiar? I don't know what to think, I just listen to the exchange between the two men. Even the assembly remains quiet. The Kings looks at the young woman questioningly.83

“He speaks truly my King,” she says, her words causing an uproar.84

"You play a foul game claiming you are a Dregoran, Andrej," father says ignoring her.85

"I do not play. It is my birthright!" Andrej replies angrily. 86

"What birthright?” the King asks, glancing at the young woman. “You might have used a spell on the young noble. Savages might do such a thing”87

I find myself saying, “He has not used his magic.”88

“I am no savage, nor does one have to be to fool a TruthSeer,” the captive says menacingly. “The young lad is correct however, I have not used my magic.”89

“Then explain how you claim to carry the blood of Dregonian kings within your veins?"90

"We share the same father."91

"You lie! My father died forty years ago."92

"Did he?"93

At this, father pauses, glancing once more at the young woman. She nods confirming the man's words.. “What do you mean?”94

“Did you forget the circumstances of his 'death'?”95

“He died fighting your people.”96

“No, not my people.”97

“They are all the same to me.”98

“Did you ever find our father's body?”99

“No...”100

“Did you not stop to think that he might have lived?”101

“I was not allowed to go search him. My generals could not risk losing the Prince-heir as well as the King. I sent many in search of him. They either returned empty handed or did not return at all. There was no sign of my father.”102

“That is your fault. Just because he was not found does not mean he died. I will tell you the story of what happened to him but I must start from the beginning.”103

“Tell your story,” father says coldly. 104

“During the wars, we were a small tribe, much like those you have seen in the past. We were nomads, victims of hostile tribes to defend ourselves. We found a man wearing strange metal similar to your own, lying on the ground close to death. He was starving and gravely wounded so we fed and tended to him until he regained his strength. The tongue he spoke was the same as the one you speak. At the time, it was strange and unknown to us but after a while, we began to understand each other.105

He told us of his lands that were far away. His stories were exciting, great cities like this one, those giant statues of the great beast, the foods, and your land's customs. But he never told us why he was with the tribe and not home with his people. The man was not young, nor was he old. In truth, you resemble him, my brother. He took a woman and she bore him many children of which I am the eldest." 106

The man stares at me as he says those words, his eyes looking deep into mine as if searching for something.107

"One day, we were attacked by an enemy tribe," Andrej continues, moving his hands oblivious to his shackles. "The man put on his metal and fought them. Their weapons couldn't pierce him so they fled. After that, we pleaded for him to teach us to fight, to make him our leader for our previous one had fallen during the attack. He agreed reluctantly. 108

We grew steadily, absorbing neighboring tribes. Since then, we have united thousands of tribes into one nation. Our great father has since died but we, his children have continued his legacy. On his deathbed, he made one request.”109

“What is this request?” 110

“For our people to make peace with the people of his birth. That a reason why I'm here.”111

“And how do we know that what you say is true? This could be an elaborate hoax after all.”112

“I don't know about you but I wouldn't come all the way here just to tell a fictional story. Nevertheless, I have proof that I speak truly.”113

“Let us see this proof.”114

Andrej digs into his pocket, drawing out a crimson cloth giving it one of the soldiers. He then passes it to the King who begins to unfold it. Father who had been standing, sits down in shock, not revealing the contents within the cloth.115

“How did you get this? You could have taken this from his body.”116

“Perhaps but read the small parchment first,” Andrej suggests.117

Silence reigns throughout the hall as father pulls out a piece of paper, unfolding it. He reads it, looks up and rereads it. 118

“Impossible...I saw him get stabbed,” the King says slowly, “It seems you may be right, no one can forge the signature of royalty, not even mages.”119

“I am but it is not the time to dwell on that. I know this is quite a shock to you all but there is another reason I'm here, the same reason you're all congregated here. The strange deaths of your men.”120

“Do you know who caused the death. Tell us where to find the tribes who are responsible.”121

“Not who, what.”122

“I don't understand.”123

"There is much you don't know about the WilderLands."124

"Please enlighten us."125

"We have lived there for many generations. Despite that, the WilderLands remains a mystery to us."126

"Why?"127

"It is a full of ancient magic. The WilderLands is the home of many secrets and those who chance upon them live long enough only to tell the tale. Not even we know the full extent of those lands. Many of the creatures that live in it, also use magic. It isn't uncommon for us to lose a tribesman to them."128

"So you are saying that creatures are the cause?”129

“Yes. The reason you see less tribes is because they've been overtaken by these monsters.” 130

The man turns to the wicker basket I forgot was there, pulling off it’s cover with great difficulty due to his shackles.131

“Since my hands are bound, I need the aid of one your your guards,” Andrej says, looking at father. At a movement of the king’s hand, the guard steps up to the basket, gazing down at it curiously. 132

“Please bring out what it contains,” the man orders.133

The guard pulls a dark furry body and nearly drops it on the marble floor. It has a faint resemblance to a small gorilla but it’s proportions are incorrect. I saw a gorilla when a traveling troupe performed for the king many years ago. This creature’s limbs are longer, its paws have sharp long claws. It’s face is defined, more human-like. It seems capable of standing on his hind legs. A stench arose from it causing us to cover our noses.134

“What is that?” father asks, covering his nose.135

“We don't know, but they are not native to our land.”136

“Not native?”137

“Creatures of the WilderLands have a distinct magical residue, this monster carries a darker, more sinister magic. This one was caught when they attacked our tribe. We don’t know where they came from or why they’re here. We do know is that they’ve been capturing scores of tribes leaving behind their half eaten bones.”138

“How many of them are there?”139

“We have yet to discover where they come from so we do not know their numer. As it is, they've been flooding into our land like a plague of locusts. My people, no, all of the WilderLands need your help. We can only hold them back for so long. See what they have already done to your own,” Andrej says grimly140

As the two speak, I glance at the creature, enraptured by it. It move it’s fingers slowly, then it’s whole body. I realize what's happening, but it does not make sense, it should be dead. The monster slowly pushes itself upwards. It’s eyes take hold of mine, fear freezing my jaws. The deeper I look into them, the more my muscles refuse to move. What’s going on? How can they not notice what is going on? Then I see it, a shroud surrounds the creature…it can use magic. It gives me a feral grin, exposing long canines. 141

After a moment, it becomes apparent that the monster is performing some sort of spell on me. But I'm still alive. In fact, the fatigue that had been building up these last few days, begins to ease. Its face changes from curiosity to anger. The more it fails, the easier it is to overcome whatever effect it gives off. 142

“It’s alive!” I cry out, finding my voice. Upon hearing me, the everyone becomes aware of the creature; women scream in terror, men move to protect the King. Andrej stares at the it, dumbfounded. The monster snarls, ready to fight the guards who slowly create a circle around it. The men advance the creature, attacking it, only to find that their weapons are deflected at the last moment. Magic! This momentary lapse allows the monster to gut the men with one quick swipe of its paws. Blood sprays on the marble floor as it licks its crimson-stained paws. No one stands between father and the creature. 143

I scream out, wishing there were something I could do. It jumps at father. Just as it reaches him, I hear a voice, “no!” The creature stops in midair, screaming in pain, tumbling to the ground. The voice came from above. I turn to see, five men in dark cloaks, the Mage Ancients. At any other time, I would have been awed to see them, but my eyes move to the Mage that screamed out. His hood is pulled back. I know this man, I killed him with my own hands but here he is. Romanius, my older brother…