Chapter 1: Aria of Sorrow
The pup’s vision began to darken. That feeling of dread and unease became more powerful. He could feel shivers rippling through his body. Opening his eyes, the room was gone. The light of the moon was gone. There was no crib beneath him. Darkness surrounded the pup, as though he were being suspended in space.
But he was a pup no more. He looked around frantically in the darkness. He ran about the darkness, the wolven prince feeling panicked, as if the very essence of evil was coalescing within the very air itself. It felt suffocating, as if it was replacing the very air around him.
“Simon?! Brother, where are you?!”
The wolven prince’s voice echoed in the darkness, as if his voice resounded through a large and empty cave. His voice was greeted with a misting green that seemed to sweep around the prince until a large, black cloaked figure formed before him. Within the grasp of the figure was a jagged scythe made of bone. The weapon shifted, before it came at his head with an unearthly speed. That feeling of evil and dread ravaged through his body, the feeling of finality and mortality ripping him apart.
A scream pierced into the silent morning, echoing in the room of stone and glass. Eyes shot open as the wolven prince shot up in his bed, hands gripping the satin sheets that covered him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, his breathing ragged and rapid. But the only thing that greeted his eyes was the soft sunlight shining through the glass terrace doors and the soft chirping of birds outside.
The wooden door opened sharply. At the door was the familiar face of the tiger-striped tiglio man, dressed in the silver armor of the Furgastian guard. Upon the chest piece was the symbol of a chalice, traditionally worn by high ranking knights as a symbol of the virtue of honor. Muscular, large, and black hair that was greying in a stripped pattern. The tiglio breathed a sigh, closing his eyes for a brief moment before opening them up again, those blue eyes showing a gentler gaze now.
“Another nightmare, your majesty?” the guard asked. Robert brought his hand from the blanket to his forehead, feeling the sensation of dread fade as his mind and body recovered from the stress. Once he could feel his breathing return to normal, he looked over at the guard in the doorway.
“Yes. Sorry to trouble you like such, Minis. I fear these dreams are becoming more frequent as of late.” The wolven prince answered. Pushing the blankets off of his body, Robert slides himself out of the bed and onto his bare feet. The powder blue baggy bottoms and short-sleeved top of his night garb draped over the prince’s toned form.
“It could be because of the upcoming ceremony. I know Princess Olivia is the very last woman you want to be getting married to, but your father wishes an end to the hostilities between Furgasta and Delacia. And you are the only heir left after your brother was kidnapped.” Minis replied as the guard walked into the prince’s bedroom, closing the door behind him.
Robert cringed a bit at the prospect, his face visibly flinching as he looked at the castle gardens from the glass terrace doors. “No. That is a different nightmare in and of itself. At least this one is a nightmare I can wake from. The marriage is another problem altogether.” He spoke, his tone tinged with annoyance at the prospect.
Olivia was a very beautiful tiglio, her lioness figure as beautiful as any dancer, and long, flowing black hair. Her emerald eyes could bring just about any man to their knees, as her smooth, creamy tan and white fur looked like flowing silk. But that was where the good parts of her ended. She was a true aristocrat. People not of royalty were below her and she made sure to make it known. She was vain, egotistical, and if someone slighted her in the least, she found ways to make their lives hell.
“I understand bringing an end to hostilities, but this is sheer madness on my father’s part. I can already see a dagger in my back as soon as the vows are uttered.” Robert mused, his tone tinged with satire and sarcasm. He turned away from the terrace doors and walked over to the armoire, opening the doors to unveil the hanging outfits set inside. “I know. I’m a prince; therefore I must marry either another royal or a member of nobility. But there are better ways to achieve peace, and I’ve better choices among the lower kingdoms of our land. Heck, if you were a noble, Lilac would be my first choice.”
Minis gave a hearty laugh to Robert’s words, his muscular arms crossing over his armored chest. The tiglio waved his hand in a dismissive manner, showing a pink scar across the black central pad of his palm. A scar that had remained for sixteen cycles since that night. Minis was only a low ranking castle guard at that time, and either by fate or chance, his ears heard the newborn prince’s cries. And it was that hand that kept the assailant’s dagger from reaching its target. And now, he was knight-commander of the Furgastian Guard, and was Prince Robert’s personal bodyguard, and eventually, close friend and mentor.
“There is no way I would be able to live the lifestyle of a noble. Could you actually see me in any of those garish outfits on a regular basis?” the tiger-like knight jested in a boisterous tone. “Not to mention the ballroom dances. Combat is the only dance I’m comfortable with.” He added, brushing a thumb across the bridge of his own nose. “Not that Lilac would mind the opportunity that brings. You two have been pretty close. She’s hoping to take my place as your protector.”
Robert laughed a bit before pulling out a simple, royal attire. Blue dress pants, a red satin sash to wrap around his waist, a frilled white dress shirt made of silk, and a blue top coat with gold buttons along the cuffs, each bearing the symbol of the ankh. Tossing his sleeping garments into the wicker hamper, the wolven prince began dressing himself. White and silver fur graced his body, the silver hugging the curves of his muscle while black undertones gave the silver a nice contrast. The white ran from his cheeks and lower jaw and down along his chest, ending at the inside of his legs.
He dressed himself in a quick manner, tossing the shirt on and buttoning it up, pulling the pants up and fastening the buckle before wrapping the red sash around his waist. Once he finished slipping the top coat on, the wolven prince turned to his escort, looking at him with his golden amber eyes.
“Well, I’d certainly look forward to the day that happens. If I’m going to be forced to marry Olivia, I’m going to need someone watching my back.”
“You say that like I couldn’t.” the tiglio mused, jabbing the prince with a teasing remark. “But in any case, I’ll get the practice ring ready. I have a feeling you’re going to need a good spar after breakfast. Unless by some miracle you and your father can behave yourselves enough to not go at each other’s throats for one morning.” Minis opened the door, holding it with his outstretched arm across the wood.
“You talk as if it is a daily occurrence. Though with as often as I try to talk sense into father, it might as well be daily.” Robert mused, walking out into the corridor as his guard closes the door. The pair walk down the spiraling stairs until they exit into the hallways of the first floor of the castle. Maids busy about the hallway, some breaking from their work to bow to the prince, giving greetings and well wishes.
A black and white skunk-like stralip butler opened the door leading to the grand dining hall. Robert walked in, seeing his parents seated at the far end of the long, rectangular table. His mother, a beautiful wolven of pure white fur and long, flowing brown hair, the same color as the shorter, messier hair that he himself had. She was dressed in an elegant emerald dress, her lower arms sleeved in green satin fingerless gloves. His father sat beside her. Powerful and broad in build. A truly impressive black jackal-like anubian. He was dressed in blue and gold regal attire. Upon his head was the royal crown, a gold ankh set in the center of an elegant circlet. Gold bracers latched around his forearms. Black dreadlocks made up his hair.
“Em hotep, Robert dear. Did you sleep well?” the wolven queen asked, her tone sweet, motherly. It was like a sweet tune. Two maids stood beside the table, one holding a tray with plates covered with silver domes, the second carrying a tray with silver tea cups and an elegantly fashioned silver tea pot. Both waiting in patient obedience for the prince to join his parents.
Robert pulled out a seat near his mother, keeping her between him and his father. “Em hotep, mother. My sleep has been as well as can be expected. The nightmares have been returning, and more potent than in times past.” he admitted, watching the maids set the plates down before the royal family. The covers were lifted to reveal the meal they kept hidden: a fluffy omelet filled with wild grain rice and dressed with sweet ketchup, sliced chicken breast with a lemon-pepper rub, and two slices of toasted rye bread with a smear of strawberry jam across each one. The smell of the food was delightful, as was the smell of the tea being poured for them. A sweet black tea with four kinds of cinnamon and sweet cloves.
“Perhaps you should go and see Lady Pandora after breakfast, son. Her remedies were enough to help you in your younger years. And you will need a clear mind for the years ahead.” The king spoke in a calm tone that carried a quiet strength to it. “Olivia is going to be arriving by the end of this season. I know you have your objections, but having you two live together before the wedding should help you both better adjust to each other.”
Robert set his fork down on the plate, his appetite practically vanished, replaced by a sickening feeling in the pit of his stomach. “Of course I have my objections! There are other ways to peace than this! You have your trade deal and cease fire that’s lasted over the past ten cycles. Let Olivia marry someone who can put up with her. There are so many better options! Why not Taylor of Caddery? Or Sulia of Boggad? The queen of Zoku has two daughters, Ebony and Ivory. Either one of them would be a better choice than Olivia! Even Princess Scarlet of Lauose, and you know how much of a combat nut she is. I would pick even her over Olivia!”
The king closed his eyes and breathed slowly through his nose, as if restraining himself. “It was Olivia’s insistence that this marriage be the centerpiece. I believe she has grown quite a bit from when you last met her. Remember, you were but a mere five cycles old when you two met.” he replied to his son before picking up the cup of tea and sipping it. “Yes, our countries have been at war for the past three thousand years, and all of the aggression has come from their end. King Solomon has worked hard to end the violence, and has worked to suppress the demon cults of his land. He lost a number of his personal friends in his revolt against his father. You can come up with all of the conspiracies you want, but I will not jeopardize this chance of ending this conflict once and for all. We have to make sacrifices for the good of all people.”
“I AM NOT A SACRIFICE!!” Robert shouted as he sharply rose to his feet, his hands slamming down on the table. “Ra damn it all father! The war has been over since Solomon took his throne! Just talk with Solomon, renegotiate that part! It is not right that I should be used as a bargaining chip without having any say in the matter! I am not something! I am someone! And I have a right to determine my future!”
With a gesture of his fingers, two rings of golden light appear around Robert’s upper and mid body. They quickly shrink and tighten, binding the prince’s arms to his sides. With a downward gesture, the divine energy forces the prince down onto the seat once more. The queen’s eyes go wide and soon she grabs her husband by the wrist. “Peace Farnem! Calm yourself! This is going too far!”
“Would you rather I strike him, Janelle? I’m not going to harm my son. But I will not tolerate this outrage at the same time.” He retorted to his wife before dispersing the rings from around Robert’s body. “Listen Robert. You have a duty to the people. That duty supersedes your personal feelings. You are a Silvermyst first. You are Robert second. Your actions carry more weight than you realize, and when you take this crown, the lives of everyone in this world will be on your shoulders. You may not be the world ruler, but your actions as king reach father than your own kingdom, farther than the boarders of this continent and the kingdoms under our rule. It affects relationships with other nations, and the lives of the citizens of them. Their citizens bleed and die in war, just as ours do, and three thousand years is three thousand years too long. I understand your feelings, but this is our duty. If Simon were alive, he would…”
“How do you know he’s dead, father? If they wanted him dead, they would have killed him in that room then and there!” Robert retorted once more, his tail flicking in anger. “He’s still alive! We just have to find him! We could still search Mystiven, no one’s gone there before!”
“That is enough Robert. It has been sixteen cycles. There has been no ransom note. None of our seers can even sense his spirit, never mind his life force here or in Delacia. I wish he was alive as well, and I have done everything I can. We have to accept that he is dead. There can be no other conclusion. Now eat your meal before it gets too cold.” The anubian king spoke in a sharp, commanding yet controlled tone, his emerald green eyes glaring at his son’s golden hues.
Robert trembled in anger and sadness. Slowly, he faced the plate before him and began to eat his meal quietly. He barely remembered his brother, but for that one year, his brother was his best friend. He always made Robert laugh as a pup and brought Robert with him everywhere he went. It was maddening, not knowing what truly befell his brother. He had to be alive somewhere. Too many things didn’t add up to come to the conclusion that he was dead.
When the meal was over, Robert left the dining hall. Heading back down the hallway he came through on the way to the dining hall, he passed by the stairs, heading into the barracks area. His friend was certainly right: he was going to need a good spar to clear his head. Walking down the steps leading into the base of the large tower, he could see Minis standing there with some dummy long swords. The knight-commander tosses one of them to the prince with a low lob. “So, one to ten, how bad did it get?” Minis asked in a calm tone of voice before holding one of the dummy long swords out, taking a defensive stance. Left foot behind the right one, the knees bent slightly. Two hands holding the training sword, holding the wooden blade at an angle from right shoulder to left hip.
“Nine.” Robert replied as he caught the wooden sword by the handle. He took a more offensive stance, somewhat similar to Minis, but with the rounded head of the wooden training sword pointed at Minis, both hands holding the handle close to the stomach. As soon as Minis gave a nod of his head, the prince began to circle with the tiglio, easing himself closer. Soon, Robert lunged with a thrust. Minis swiped the blade of his sword to the left to deflect, leading the wolven into countering with an upward slice.
Minis hopped backwards to avoid the swipe before going in with a side swipe to the left side, which Robert used the flat of the practice sword to block. Pressing a hand against the upper part of the blade, the wolf pushed Minis’ sword to the side before taking his stance once more.
The dance of sword strikes, parries and dodges flowed within the tower , both moving on a ground of hay and dirt. Hardly the place for a typical royal, especially one in clean clothing, but it was a more common sight to see for those walking by. Several cadets and maids would glance in, watching the most accomplished weapons masters sparing with the prince. The solid wooden thwacks echoed against the stone walls. While Robert was hardly an equal to Minis, the knight had trained the boy since childhood, and the prince’s skill was well above the average knight, and it showed in their spars.
The prince was a hair faster in his movements, and a clever thinker in the heat of the fight. Minis stayed on the defensive, acting more as a defensive target while giving sudden slashes, pokes and low sweeps to try and catch the wolven prince off guard. And after several minutes of hard work, Minis brought the fight to an end by raising his hand to the prince.
“Not bad, your majesty. You’re still leaving your left flank open in a few of your advances, but other than that, a pretty good work out, wouldn’t you agree?” Minis spoke in a hearty tone, patting the smaller wolven on the shoulder. The tiglio was larger than Robert’s father. The young prince’s head came up to the tiglio’s pectorals, and Robert was hardly short as he stood at a full six feet tall.
“Yeah. As usual, you were right on the money. I guess these fights are getting predictable for you, aren’t they?” the wolf mused. Minis chuckled at the motion, though he wasn’t aware which fight Robert was referring to. Or if he did, he played it off well enough that he didn’t.
“No. If anything you always seem to find a way of keeping me on my toes. But if you mean the arguments with your dad, ten years of it does lend one to learn the patterns.” Minis spoke, putting the practice swords away in the weapons barrel. “Still, perhaps instead of trying on focusing the things you can’t change, focus on the things you can change. Being a royal means there are some things you are privy to that most are not. You’ll be marrying Olivia unless some blessing of Ra happens, but kings and queens are permitted a consort. More often than not, it is for the means of ensuring an heir in case the queen in power cannot produce one. So, select someone you love to be your consort and permit Olivia one as well. And if she objects, tell her you objected to the marriage in the first place. As such, since you have had to do something you objected to, she will have to accept this one thing that she objects to. Fair enough, wouldn’t you agree?”
Robert chuckles a bit as he walked through the hallway with Minis, leaving the training tower. “All these years, I never would have thought you a pervert. But you do have a point.” The prince mused. “But even still, it is more than just whether or not I like her and having her as my queen. Someone like that who treats her own people with so little respect, I can only imagine how she will treat those of lower class here. I know from my father that King Solomon is the most reasonable the Ragnok family line has produced in, well, ever. It would be nice if she took after her father.”
Reaching the palace entryway, the young prince turned to face his mentor. “If you will excuse me Minis, I will be heading out for the day. Father suggested I meet with Lady Pandora about my nightmares. Not to mention I need to meet with some of my contacts. Father may have given up on my brother, I will not. Not until I see him home safe, or see his body.”
Minis crossed his arms over his chest, his head canting to the side. “You know your father is going to give me an earful if I let you wander unaccompanied again. I’m not the only one who can report directly to him.” The tiglio spoke, his voice carrying a hint of concern. It happened often enough that the prince would slip away on his own, and Minis usually did a good job of keeping such exploits under wraps.
Topic: The Legend of Furgasta: The Demon War (Read 1443 times)