Providence of the Demiurge: Absolution

Chapter 1: The Return

It was in a quaint little grotto on a cool April morning that two men found themselves huddled in their tent as they looked out to their campsite. A bear had managed to stumble onto their little resting grounds and currently found itself fishing through their food supply for its breakfast.

"Well," one of the men said, "looks like this is going to be a beautiful morning."

The man who spoke was a tall bearded fellow, with dark brown hair, chestnut brown eyes, a black cape, and beautiful new armor with clean green robes under the chest plate that seemed to contradict his hardened and grizzled countenance. The other man beside him was quite the opposite: tall, but no facial hair, long, light brown hair, emerald green eyes; and an illustrious set of silver armor with gold and brass highlights, along with a blue cape and new red robes under the chest plate that perfectly complemented his youthful grace and spirit.

"How should we get rid of it?" The younger man asked. Without responding the older man grabbed a sheathed blade that he had kept at his bedside and removed the scabbard, revealing a glittering silver rapier. The younger man noticeably flinched, prompting a sigh from the older man.

"It's already reached the food, Isael. We're not getting rid of it any easier way unless you want to go hungry. We've still a ways to go before we'll reach Durendus." The older man said. Isael looked out at the bear and then at his own blade, a stunning silver longsword with a golden guard and pommel, black hilt, and numerous engravings of ancient symbols and letters that have long since lost their meaning.

"It's just eating, father. We can go without food for one meal, right? They'll probably be waiting for us by noon's meal at the castle." Isael said. The man looked at Isael and slowly put down his blade. The two watched on as the bear continued to ravage their few remaining supplies, eventually leaving the campsite to most likely find someplace to sleep off its morning snack.

"You know, Isael, your hesitance will be the death of you someday." The old man grumbled on as he and Isael took their time to take down the camp they had created the previous night. He looked in the bag the bear had eaten through and begrudgingly realized that nothing was left for even a midmorning nibble on their ride back to the Kingdom of Durendus.

Isael busied himself with loading their tent and weapons onto their two horses. He turned to a dark brown horse and stroked its mane.

"Good boy, Veillantif. Come on now—" Isael said. He began leading the two horses over to his father, who was looking towards the sky in the direction of the low mountains to their east.

"The Sun should be over the mountains any minute now. We better get going if we want to be back in the capital before midday." The man said to Isael. Isael nodded and mounted Veillantif while his father mounted a bright white horse by his side. After one last look around the campsite to make sure nothing had been forgotten, they took off towards the west, where their destination awaited.

It was a cool spring morning that would assuredly be good for the horses, but even a moderate canter would only get them to the capital city of Durendus by the half-hour before noon. They chose to bide their time by speaking of the grandiose possibilities of the future, particularly for Isael since the quest they had just come back from was merely his first quest as a knight of Durendus. Isael's father eventually let out a light chuckle.

"To think, the Prince of Durendus, and his first quest as a knight is flower picking! At least the bear didn't get to those, or we would've been in quite the predicament!" He said. He seemed to have overcome the grumpiness he had acquired earlier after not having breakfast. Isael laughed in response.

"The court mage needs his herbs, and someone has to collect them," Isael replied. They rode along for another few hours, eventually merging onto a straight dirt path, allowing Isael to take in the serene beauty of the nearby landscape as he and his father talked. The season had brought with it a light breeze and a modest temperature, both of which were complemented by the scent of the evaporating morning dew and the sound of chirping birds and quietly rustling leaves.

The Sun was soon high over the mountains and the virtually cloudless sky shone a bright blue, signifying that they were closing in on their destination. As they neared the end of their trek, Isael's father broke the peaceful silence that had endured for much of their journey after the first hour.

"Isael, I hope that you realize what is inevitably expected of you. I was able to aid you with this quest, but as King, I can't go off adventuring with my son whenever I please. That's why I encourage you to overcome that reluctance of yours to do any harm to others because there will come a time when you must inflict it against those deserving of much worse." Isael shifted uncomfortably on his saddle as his father continued.

"That blade at your side: I once used that blade in my youth, as my father did and his father before him, all the way back to when this kingdom was founded. It's a very special heirloom, and I know I shoved it on you before we left, but it is a sacred blade and I know that with it by your side you will be able to overcome any trials you may face." His father said.

Isael grasped the sword at his side and lifted it out of its sheath. Despite its age, it shone with the luster of a weapon that had just recently been crafted by the finest blacksmith the elves or dwarves had to offer.

"Father, this blade—what did you say its name is?" Isael said.

"That's a holy blade, son. Since time immemorial it has been known by a single name: Durendal." Isael's father spoke with great admiration and ardor in his voice as he spoke of the blade that Isael held in his hand. A lump developed in Isael's throat as he pondered whether his father may be right and that the path of pacifism was a foolish endeavor for a knight. Regardless of his thoughts, his father continued his praises.

"Many great men have wielded that sword, and many greater men will eventually have their turn. My only hope is that you are one of them, Isael." Isael's father said.

With that final statement, the highest tower of Castle Durendus finally appeared over the trees, indicating that they had just about arrived. Isael decided to save his thoughts for another time and replaced his sword in its scabbard.

When they passed through the gates to the city, they were welcomed to a familiar sight. Durendus was a lively place where street music was played on most corners and shops and pubs bustled with numerous patrons at any given time. The streets were always filled to the brim with people traveling from one place to the other, a scene that for any foreigner was quite difficult for the eyes and ears because of how much was going on at various points in the city at the same time.

On this day, as Isael and his father rode into Durendus, they were greeted by all those sights. Music played all around as people carried out their daily tasks, and voices could be heard from throughout the city, most especially from the local taverns. The two received numerous passing glances and some stares, both of which prompted whispering all around them.

The sight was quite normal to Isael and his father, who maintained a slow and steady course towards the large castle in the center of the city. The pair made their way to the large front gates of the castle, which were guarded by two knights who respectfully bowed to Isael and his father before opening the doors. Isael leaped off Veillantif and grabbed Durendal and the herbs, with his father immediately following him, leaving the horses to be led to the stables by the guards before they both strolled inside Castle Durendus.