It was a night that settled upon Silondras. The winter's weathering was passing now, the northern chilling winds cascading down the mountains making the clearer days still and cold. This time of year is met with anxiety for the kingdoms such as Liontari, Lykos, and Nychterida. This time of year, into the fletching days of the winter nights, the Frostlanders, Hyperboreans, become more ferocious and more powerful, fueled by the winds that shall return on the return of the season. So much effort has been placed just to keep them back from the borders. James was penning orders in his private chambers, answering letters of concern from various incursions due to the increased agitation of the Frostlands as of late. The one he read was from a recent letter sent from near the border of Lykos.
Aurelius, the paladin of war, sent some of his own men there, expecting that this was where the Frostland kingdom of Mur'Elia was. He also predicted that they would favor more of their casters, called Kolesca. They are trouble for those who can not use aura. So, Aurelius sent a few knights and well-trained soldiers who specialized in anti-caster warfare. They favor surprise attacks, quick formations, and flexible fighting. And as expected, they completely routed their army, even capturing some of the elite Hyperboreans with the blood of ice and skin of the frozen sky. This letter that he read now was merely a victory lap for Aurelius and some of his captains. James smiled a bit at that; Aurelius was a brilliant strategist but an even bigger fan of winning. He expects a celebration will be thrown at his home camp in the coming days.
In another piece, a concise report detailed some of the security procedures Lupren has taken upon his order. So far, they hadn't seen anything outwardly threatening besides the regular monster that stalked the forests. Silondras has increased security at the gate. Any foreigner from the outlands is to be questioned upon their arrival, every caravan searched, and goods inspected before they are allowed in. Officials or lords must verify their identity if they wish to come to the king's courts. The already strenuous check-ins of every guard on shift are to be fastened tighter, and soldiers returning or making it through the city are to be searched for foreign objects. It was honestly impressive to see Lupren do his job to his fullest. But this did little to minimize his stress. Fate pressed him, and he felt he must do more to compensate for the challenge.
He collected the papers into neat piles and then moved to one side as he began penning proper responses. As he did so, he felt a small puff of wind wash over him, and before he could dip his quill into ink, he noticed the presence of John sitting in one of the chairs before his work desks.
"I'm sorry for forcing you to use your abilities," James told him. "I know you wish not to abuse them, but we have little choice."
"No, King James, I understand," John raised a dismissive hand. "Trust me; I will do anything I can to obliterate Talin and protect my country."
"So what is happening around the lad?" James asked. "I've been getting some curious words from Arkouda."
"Rightfully so," John said. "It's a travesty. The god Hephaestus has been reawakened and turned mount Kryn into a smoldering pile of burning rock. The fires are tremendous, but my master has authorized mages to help in containing and quenching it."
"That's good. That's good," James sat back in his seat with a thoughtful expression, pulling the message he just wrote aside. "This week certainly helped in mending relations further between Torlak and the empire. This is a crucial step for what is to come."
"Of course," John said. "Anyhow, I didn't come to give such idle updates, Lord James. I did deliver the message you gave to him. I know I should not gauge its content, but I do wonder what you plan to do."
"I suspect that Lyse is going after Hephaestus then?" James asked after a moment of thought.
John sighed but went along with the change in conversation. "Yes. They are going toward one of Hephaestus's working forges before he can get to it. Who knows what disasters god can unleash when they are not controlled by human whim."
"I also came to inform you that Celia will be on her way here," John continued on. "After rescuing her daughter, Lyse decided it best that they be sent somewhere safe while he pursues the god. They are on their way here."
"Has he now?" James rubbed his hands together in a thoughtful pose. "Well, I suppose we should send some parties to intercept them and guide them safely here. I doubt Talin will care much for a former godslayer, but I wish not to take the risk. I have much to discuss with her when she arrives."
"That being?"
"About the future procedures when collecting the other godslayers," James stood from his desk; anxiousness hid behind a smooth stride as he made his way towards the glass window. The city was much more hollow than in previous days before the lockdown. The general mood of the citizens has been met with some unease as of late, understandably. Travel has been moved to a crawl, and the military police scrutinized all goods. Lupren had to order city criers to try to ease their tensions, but there was little he could do to quell their discomfort. They will have to endure the extra security for the time being. Hopefully, whatever threat is coming his way will rear it' ugly face soon. Because even he is unsure how much stress he can allow this unknown entity to consume.
Suddenly, there was a knock on his door. James turned an eye over towards it, using aura to sense who was on the other side. the aura was familiar, Novia. Most likely to lecture him or perhaps tell him even more news of the knights that have gone missing in the past year, a problem he still has no clue how to solve. Even some sentinels have gone missing amongst other nobles, disappearing in the middle o shifts for unknown reasons, not even a body to confirm that they have been killed. Either way, Novia never comes by for trivial matters; it's always better to hear her out. She was surprisingly pointed for a Umani.
"You may enter," he looked briefly back to his view of the city before turning and sitting back at his desk, setting aside some of the documents.
The door opened, revealing Novia in a simple blue dress that fell to her feet and swept the floor. She had no servants with her, as usual, instead of holding a book under one arm. Like many of the other officials who can carry a blade, she, too, had brought a weapon to this unexpected meeting. Except hers was not buckled to her side. A curved scimitar floated not too far behind her, bobbing up and down and moving with a strangely conscious motion. It was one of Novia's own blades, brought over from her homeland, created using their strange magic. It floated nearby her, at her side, when she took a seat and staying motionless. James spared a brief glance to John. He wasn't there. The chair he sat in looked undisturbed as if he was never there to begin with.
"So, what brings you to my chambers this time, Novia?" he asked, looking back to her just as she dropped the large tome onto his desk, scattering dust and other particulates around. "What is it?"
"Something recently recovered by one of my rangers," she told him, those blazing orange eyes looking out the window briefly before returning to him. "It was recovered from the dungeon of an ancient mage. Scholars have yet to date it, but I brought it to you for several reasons."
"Didn't know I was a scholar," he told her.
"Don't worry, and I don't expect much from you in that regard," carefully, she began turning pages. Despite the exterior being close to collapsing, the paper was actually pretty well kept comparatively. "I'm not much for conspiracy, James. I'm not the master of report or anything like that, but I do like knowing things."
"As you have expressed so often," he said with a smile.
"This book," she gestured to the open pages. "I can't say for sure, but it appears to be in a language not too far off related to the Old Tongue you of the clans speak. Anyway, this was some journal used for mystical practices, experimentation, and all sorts. Really it's something we ought to hand over to Torlak for more information."
"Riveting," James said. "Why exactly should this be of my interest?"
"She stopped on one of the pages and turned it around for him to read. There were notes of translation, though sparse and incomplete in their wording. "You tell me, Lord Colton."
James was unsure why she was so persistent. Well, she was the paladin of exploration, but still, it was a little uncanny for her to be so insistent on getting his thoughts on something completely outside his skills and knowledge. But, she must have the idea from somewhere. He reluctantly looked down at the pale sheets she pressed her fingers down upon.
And froze.
Upon both of the open pages, drawn neatly in heavy black ink unfaded, were six pendants of various designs. Pendants of a specific make. Pendants that he was highly familiar with. He felt his heart sudden;y soar at the mere sight and his hands itching from the sensation of the pendant's curse. He could feel it, thumping along with the drums of his own heart. Even seeing its depiction was a hard thing to swallow. He took a deep breath, tracing his fingers across some of the text around the pendant. He immediately recognized the language. It was a variation of the Old Tongue spoken out in the outlands long ago. From the notes, it could be gathered that this person had an intense encounter with these pendants and what they were capable of until they were suddenly no longer available to him. He must have been searching for them as well before he died. The pendants of the gods. He felt his veins turn to ice as he lifted his gaze to meet Novia's calculating eyes.
"Tell me, James, do you recognize these pendants? They are of curious make don't you think? I've never seen anything quite like them, really."
"They seem fairly standard jewelry," he tried to play it off as if he didn't know, but he had the feeling any word that fell out of his mouth would be assumed a lie by her. Even the tilt of her eyebrow prompted skepticism. "I mean, I am no archeologist, so why prompt me?"
"Really," she asked. "Well, I do remember a pendant that reminded me of it quite a lot, actually. The young'un Lyse wore something similar, didn't he?"
"I . . . don't know," he said almost defensively. "I'm sure the boy wore something like it. What does all this mean, Novia? Why bring this up with me?"
"Well, there is one more thing," Novia told him. "There is something else bugging me. I was passing the halls when I passed by paintings of your late mother. In some of them, she wore a necklace very similar to one of the ones depicted in this book. If I may ask, would you mind if I inspected it? You never know what you may discover, James."
James's eyes lower the temperature of the room significantly. He slowly placed both hands beneath the book and closed it shut. Novia, despite her poised and formal manner, suddenly tensed up like a cat that had suddenly sensed a dangerous enemy about her. Her eyes were unmoving from James and a little surprised even. He slid the book across the desk away from him. He spoke in words that were direct and commanding. A tone that was never used on anyone who ever worked under him.
"Take this book and get it to the proper hands in Torlak, Novia," he said. "The conversation ends here."
The tenseness did not lessen, and from the corner of his eye, he could see the sword she brought her begin to shift a little where it rested. She looked at him, wide-eyed and startled. She must not have expected such a tone to come from him toward her. "James, please tell me what this is all about. Lyse left to find those who killed his mother. Wilbur. Just please tell me what this is all about."
"Drop it," he muttered to her.
"James . . ."
"I said," he momentarily raised his voice but then restrained himself, sitting back in his seat heavily. "Novia, please. Ignore what you are thinking. Ignore the threads that are forming in this fabric you have uncovered. It does not concern you. And it most definitely should not concern me."
She stayed silent for a few moments. "Is this . . . why you ask for more security on the city. Why Wilbur and Celia were attacked?"
He looked at her. Her eyes had softened. She must have sensed the vulnerability present when he did restrain himself. He gave in an inch, anything to release a bit of the burden he had carried, and he nodded to her.
"These . . .things," she spoke as if the wrong words would turn him on her. they very well might. "People are looking for them, aren't they. They came after Celia's family. And now you fear that they will come after you."
"I am the king of one of the most powerful kingdoms on this side of the world. There is little that can threaten me."
"This threat far exceeds mere thrones, don't they?" she asked him, stepping a little closer. "These people that Lyse is chasing. If they are so dangerous, why did you send him alone? They killed at least a dozen of my men and women."
"Novia," James lifted his head. "That boy is going to be capable of great things. And he is not alone. This enemy will rear its head to me, and I only wish that if that comes, when that comes, what I have managed to preserve shall last beyond me. The security I've asked of Lupren is not for my own sake but for the sake of Silondras."
Novia took a long time to consider what he had just said. She has always known how selfless he was as a king. Even at the standards the empire tends to have on their sovereigns, James stood out for his good nature and honest demeanor. But, this burden that he has hidden from them, hidden from all of them, may very well be his downfall. They are his Paladins, his allies. They were meant to protect them. They were meant to serve him till he died. And he deprived them of that. That must mean one of two things. that he has no faith in their abilities, or the enemy is just so terrifying to him that he believes that no matter what they do, he will die.
"Does Lupren know about this, James?" Novia asked. "Does he knows why he has been ordered to secure the city?"
"No doubt he has his suspicions, but I've told him nothing of what's to come," he sighed. "Please. Do not dwell on my passing, only on what comes after. A king's duty is never to himself but to his subject. Those who are able to serve those who are not, Novia."
"So is that it?" Novia asked him, gesturing to the book still lying on the table. "Are you going to tell me to forget about all of this? Are you going to sit on your throne and wait for the knife to release you, James? Wait for your death. What shall we do if you die . . ."
"Believe me," James's eyes refocused on something in the distance, sharp and tactful. "When my day comes, it shall not be sitting idly waiting to become the dangers pray. If I am going to die, it will be on both feet, with a sword quenched in blood. And besides, I've already made preparations for my passing."
"What, really?" she asked.
"The Colton line is no more," he said. "But my legacy has not yet died. I shall leave this kingdom in far more capable hands. When they arrive, Novia, and when my tie comes. No matter who they are, respect them as you do me. Perhaps, a little more even. When she comes, she will be far more fitting in protecting this kingdom, this empire, from what will come upon it."
"She?" her eyes darted in rampant thought before she stepped closer and leaned over his desk. She seemed to gather fairly quickly precisely who he was mentioning. "Her? You're leaving the kingdom in Celia's hands?"
"It is her time, " James said. "She was born for this and shall continue to protect the kingdom with far more tenacity than even me. I will do all I can while I am here, but she is my successor. Trust, that if Wilbur was alive, I may have handed my crown to him already."
"I don't think leaving it in her hands is right," Novia said. "There are far more proper candidates."
"She is my third cousin, Novia, do not forget," James said. "Her mother and my share blood. Therefore it would be the right of the sovereign of Hath to decide succession. She will do this. She will be the next queen of Silondras. And please. I am no longer commanding you. I am no longer demanding you bend to my authority this time. Please, Novia. Forget what you think of this; it doesn't concern you. When the time comes, I know what to trust you to do. I come asking you, as your brother in battle."
It was her turn to take a long and thoughtful sigh. James hates to call up her out of want rather than ned. In honesty, he wishes he could count upon the paladins and his sentinels. He wishes he could call upon the forces of man to crush the threats of darkness that may soon blanket the sun. But he fears more than all, more than losing his own life, that if he makes that choice, that if he does call upon them. All will fail, and all will die trying to protect him from something that he knows is inevitable. Fate is whispering in his ears, telling him that sooner or later, his time shall come and pass like all others. And that his death will spark a change in this world. He could only watch as Novia picked up her book, her sword floating next to her, and walked away wordlessly.
How can I carry on knowing all of this? she asked herself. I would rather be in the thralls of war than be helpless in my duty. If James refuses assistance, then what good are we?
As the door came to a close and the levels of stress dramatically decreased in the room, James could finally comfortably lean back in his chair. He was not eased in mind, but at least he did not need to heed Novia's presence. But her involvement is clear. She knows at least a little of what is happening beneath the veil hidden in plain sight for generations. Perhaps she, too, will come to notice the appearance of the godslayers. What will she do then, this Paladin of explorations?
"That was quite something."
John reappeared in the room once more, his legs crossed before him as he sipped tea from nowhere.
"I should have known Talin would be the ones harassing her men. The ruins she had come across must have been of interest of Talin, and they wished to be first to plunder its secrets."
"Do you think she'll give Torlak that book, James?"
"She is not some dullard. I must tell you, John," he said. "She will do as I ask of her, no matter how suspicious they may seem."
"And leaving all of this to the Opals?" he asked. "Are you sure she is fit to be the ruler of Liontari?"
"In a time of peace, no," James admitted. "there are many far batters suited. But we have not seen peace in quite some time. So I have no choice but to believe she is the best option for protecting our people. If not . . . then may Fate bless us all."