Chapter 1 - Part 1A Chapter by Gaelan_HamiltonIn the first half of chapter 1, we meet the royal brothers Casren and Baelir, who are summoned to the mysterious Collisphere by their fatherThe castle
training yard was all but empty. Usually it would be humming with activity from
various soldiers honing a variety of fighting skills; such as archery,
fist-fighting and swordplay. But this early in the morning, when the sun's ochre
light was only just beginning to spill out over the city, there were only a few
manservants hurrying around to set up before their masters arrived. For Prince Casren, the conditions were
perfect for practicing; he could work away quietly on the training dummies, his
concentration unhampered by the clangs and thuds of others sparring in the
background. As a member of the royal family, he could have had his own private
training area constructed so that he could sharpen his abilities in private
whenever he wished. He felt however it would lack the other important feature
that enabled him to work so well here - the connection between himself and all
the other warriors who had trained here, pouring their energies into learning
how to fight for their King and their people. Even now he could feel their
presence, encouraging him to push his body into the brilliant heat of exertion. Casren closed his eyes, steadying both his
mind and his hand as he raised the sword aloft. Exhaling softly, he reopened
his eyes, conjuring the image of a fully armoured enemy to replace that of the
straw dummy before him. He then targeted the weak spots on the armour - knees,
elbows, shoulders, and neck, where typically there was either leather or rivets
between metal plates to aid movement, leaving the area exposed. Bringing the
sword down sharply, he cut and sliced at his targets, twisting his arms so that
he could change the direction and angle that each strike was coming from. Were he able, he would do this all day, letting
his thoughts wander and his body sharpen into a deadly weapon. Princely duties
prevented him from doing so however, despite what his younger brother Baelir
believed. Baelir had a tendency to ignore his responsibilities, misspending
valuable hours in the Merchants City of Pecunis when he could be using them on
making Patharis a more secure place for everyone. But traditionally the younger
brother in a family was meant to be mildly reckless, whether he was of royal
blood or not. The difference between Casren and Baelir was that whilst they
both had the option to do as they pleased, Casren could not let himself act
fecklessly -he dedicated himself into learning what it took to be a good and
just King for his people. Baelir on the other hand believed it would come to
him naturally, and that there was no point trying to force it when there was
plenty of other more entertaining ways to occupy himself. Baelir was only his younger brother by a
matter of minutes; non-identical twins the physicians had called them, their
appearances contrasting as drastically as their interests. Casren had very soft
features, his perfectly curved jaw and cheekbones enhanced by his curled blonde
hair, whilst Baelir was all sharp angles and a bedraggled shock of black hair. Lowering his sword, Casren paused to rest and
catch his breath. Experience had taught him that in combat training it was just
as important to take breaks as it was to push himself, otherwise his muscles
would overtire and ache the next day when he was due to continue his
regime. Looking around the yard, he
noticed a pitcher of water had already been set up by a manservant for their
master when they arrived. He walked over and poured himself a cupful, as surely
whomever it belonged to wouldn't notice that a small amount was missing.
Lifting the cup to his lips, he gulped the contents down greedily, finding
himself more parched than he had originally thought. The water was satisfying,
despite its slightly raised temperature due to the suns heat. It was
surprisingly warm for so early in the day, his shirt already hugging to him
with sweat exuded not only because of both the heat and his swordplay. Just as he was about to help himself to a
second cupful, a shrill cry interrupted him. "Hey you!
Put that pitcher down at once!" Casren turned to see who the deafening
screech of a voice belonged to and saw a scrawny looking Halfling boy marching
towards him with such a hot fury on his face that it would bubble the flesh
from Casren's skull were it possible. As he drew closer, the rage cooled off, freezing
instead into a block of fear as he realised who he had been shrieking at. "P-Prince
Casren! I'm so sorry, I didn't realise it was you, please don't tell my master
he'll-“ "It's my
fault, I took some water because I was thirsty and it was close at hand - I
should have fetched some of my own instead of taking yours," said Casren,
smiling warmly in an attempt to calm the Halfling, "What is your name, boy?" "Delsan,
your Highness," replied Delsan, bowing humbly. "Well
Delsan, please accept my apology and my promise that I will not take your water
again." "T-thank
you, your Highness! I should not have shouted as I did; it is my first week in
this position, and I don't want to disappoint my master. He...He can be
unpleasant when annoyed," said Delsan, flinching as a painful memory
resurfaced to sting him once more. "Ah, I
understand. Would you like a bit of advice to stop this from happening
again?" "Oh yes
your Highness, I'd be honoured!" "Always
serve the water last. That way no one can take it when you are away getting
everything else and the water will still be fresh when your master drinks
it." "Of course!
Sir Mathion will be most pleased!" "Sir
Mathion? That's who you serve?" Mathion was a member of one of the most
significant noble families in Patharis: the Strauswalls. They were the
representatives for the Just under seven feet tall, Mathion was an
utter brute of a man, his body lined with large, bulging muscles and his mind armed with a shockingly quick
temper. Casren had undergone a few conflicts with him in the past at court,
where the man had become manic with rage when he had disagreed with him. In their
last argument, Mathion had actually been removed from the council meeting, as
he had become so wild with rage that he had drawn his weapon and lunged across
the table at Casren. The guards had barely managed to tear the savage man away
from Casren before he had knocked him unconscious. He therefore found it very believable
that the young Halfling boy would be frightened by Mathion. Surely there was a
way to protect this young boy from Mathion without causing too much damage. "Well
then, perhaps there is something I can do about that," said Casren. "Y-Your
Highness?" stammered Delsan, "I don't want to cause any
trouble." "No, no
you're not, don't worry. What I'm going to do is employ you as a member of my
personal staff, if I have your permission of course. It is well within my right
as Prince to hire a new assistant. You seem capable enough, if a little
inexperienced.” "Your
Highness, I couldn't possibly-“ "Mathion
is a loathsome specimen of a human, and I won't have you working for him a
moment longer. If you won't let me hire you, then at
least let me offer you some money so that you may leave his employment and
search elsewhere." "It’s not
that. I have two younger sisters to look after; if something were to happen to them
because I left Sir Mathion's employment, the Gods themselves would never
forgive me," said Delsan, deeply regretful that he could not accept
Casren's offer. "As a
member of my staff, you and your family will receive lodgings within the
castle. Not even Mathion would dare strike at you from within its walls, I
promise," assured Casren. "Then I
accept!" "Excellent.
Your first duty can be to take my sword to the blacksmith just down that path
and to the right for sharpening. Then you are free to go and tell your sisters
the good news. Report to Mattila Strotsam tomorrow morning at the Servants Wing
and she will assign you your accommodation and duties," instructed Casren,
handing Delsan his sword in its scabbard, which was more than half the boy's
height. "Yes my
Prince, thank you, you won't regret this!" cried Delsan as he ran merrily
off down the path, carrying the sword awkwardly as he went. Casren smiled as he watched Delsan leave. Not
only had he acquired an enthusiastic young servant, but he had removed him from
a horrible master that would no doubt have made the young elf's life miserable.
He would send Mathion a polite letter as was required, informing him of Casren's employment of Delsan.
Still, it would probably be best not to be around when the juggernaut found out
his servant was no longer in his service. Looking down at himself Casren frowned. His
shirt was sodden with sweat and covered in dry dirt he had kicked up from the
ground as he sparred. Perhaps it would be best to return to his quarters and
change before doing anything else. Leaving the training yard, he walked up a
small set of stairs that led into the North Wing of the castle, which contained
the royal family's quarters. The wing also held; the Great Hall, an enormous
room that his family and any visiting nobles would feast at a chapel where any
inhabitant of the castle could go to pray to the Four Gods; the Council Chamber
where meetings and plans for the future were made, and other less important
rooms such as the kitchen, the larder and storage cupboards. The servants and
their families were housed in the East Wing, which contained everything they
required to perform their daily duties. The West Wing was essentially a small
military base, with a smithy, barracks, jail cells and the training yard in
which Casren had just sparred. Finally there was the Collisphere to the South,
but no one went in there with the exception of the King, Abareth and his
acolytes. Casren continued on through the corridors,
which were beautifully decorated with all forms of artwork. Handcrafted by the
finest inhabitants of the As he reached the door to his personal
quarters, he was surprised to find the door already open. He was certain he had
locked it this morning, yet the door hung open invitingly. This unsettled him and
he instinctively reached for his sword that normally hung from his belt, but
instead his hand met nothing but air. He briefly panicked before remembering
that he had sent it away with Delsan to be sharpened. Scolding himself for
picking today for the task, he crouched down and rolled up his trouser leg to
retrieve the dagger he kept in a sheath strapped to his calf. He was thankful
he at least had some form of weapon, no matter how small. Casren pushed the
door fully open slowly, walking carefully so as to avoid alerting the intruder
of his presence. The room felt perilously threatening compared to the usual
comfort it granted him. A floorboard creaked under his weight, alarmingly loud
compared to the hollow silence of the room. So
much for the stealth approach, he thought bitterly, as he edged further
forwards with his dagger held at the ready. Based on appearances, his room was untouched;
the bed sheets still as crumpled as he had left them earlier and his ornate
furniture perfectly in place. Still unconvinced that nothing had been taken he
walked slowly towards the dresser at the end of the bed to check its contents. Sliding
the drawers open one at a time, he found that everything remained neatly arranged
within. There was no sign of any theft, but he could not bring himself to lower
his guard with the feeling of inhospitality still lingering and clawing at his
subconscious. He heard his assailant before he saw them,
air whistling from behind him as his attacker rushed forwards to strike. Instinctively, Casren snapped his arm
backwards to block the blow with his dagger. Catching the attacker off guard,
they fell backwards unsteadily. Casren leapt at the opportunity and crouched
down to push himself forwards off the ground towards them, knocking the figure
clean off their feet before landing with a dull thud. Holding the dagger at their throat, Casren
kicked the weapon the intruder had been using out of reach before turning to
attempt to identify them. "Baelir?!"
Casren gasped in disbelief, staring at his brother now pinned under his legs. "Hello, big
brother," Baelir grunted uncomfortably under Casren's weight. "By the
Gods Baelir,
I could have killed you! Whatever possessed you to break into my room
and attack me?" Casren demanded, lowering the blade and climbing off his
brother. "Boredom,
mainly. I'd been waiting for over an
hour and then I thought 'To the Glass "People
who don't want to waste away their mornings in bed like some I could think
of." "Me?
Lazy? Casren,
you wound me,"
teased Baelir. "Anyway, there was a reason for me showing up other than to
let you knock me off my feet and hold me at knife-point. Which, by the way, you
wouldn't have managed if I wasn't going easy on you." "Oh
really?" smirked Casren. "Are you sure it wasn't just because I'm a
better fighter than you?" "Please,
if I had wanted to, you would've been flat on your back the moment you walked
into the room. I just didn't want to bruise your already oversized ego. Anyhow,
Abareth and Father sent a message for us to meet them at the Collisphere, but
that was, what, two hours ago? So we're already late thanks to you." "That's
unfortunate. Did they say what for?” "No, but
it must be important if it's the two of them together - they can barely exist
in the same castle together without wanting to rip each other apart." "I know
what you mean. Very well; if you'll wait outside, I want to change out of these
clothes,” said Casren as he held the door open for Baelir. "Sure,
just don't take too long prettying yourself up. It's not as if Father's going
to sign you up for the Culling for looking a bit scruffy," jested Baelir,
pausing before leaving the room and adding, " And by the way, there are
much more fun ways to work up a sweat than hitting a straw dummy over and over
again, assuming that was where you were for so long." "Baelir!" "What?
All I'm saying is that I know plenty of...free-spirited young women in Pecunis
who would love to show you how," said Baelir, winking mischievously. “Out! Now!” "All right, all right; don't shout too
loudly or the guards will come running, the melodramatic, brain-dead b--" Casren shut
the door behind him, cutting Baelir off midsentence. He was still smiling at
Baelir’s brutal honesty as he walked over to his cupboard to change his
clothes. If nothing else, he could always rely on his brother to make him smile,
with his endless, jovial attitude and aptitude for humour. Whilst he selected his new outfit - a simple
but smart looking white shirt with dark brown leather trousers " he mused over
the possible reason behind the summoning. Baelir may not have expressed it in
the most eloquent way, but he was correct in saying Abareth and their father
did not have the most harmonic of relationships, in fact Casren could not think
of a single thing they had ever agreed on. If he or Baelir ever asked about it,
his father had only ever said that is was due to a “difference in interests”,
but there had to be more to it than that. No two people could be so
uncomfortably familiar and so opposing for that reason. With that in mind, he
found it difficult to believe they would be working together on anything less
than vital to Patharis. Loud banging on the door broke Casren out of
his ruminations harshly, reality thundering back into view. “Get a move on
Casren, I’m sure you look lovely,” Baelir jibed from the corridor. “Just a
moment!” called Casren, tying his shoelaces hurriedly. They were
already late and he didn’t want to keep their father and Abareth waiting any
longer than necessary. Tardiness was not a desired quality in a prince after
all. His shoes tightly laced, Casren left his room
and locked it behind him. Baelir slouched against the wall next to him with
vacant boredom across his face. “I didn’t know
you could pick locks,” said Casren, hoping that an explanation of the new skill
he had picked up would stop Baelir from deciding that his time would be better
spent elsewhere. That was his usual conclusion if inattentive for any period of
time after all. “How’d you know you didn’t just leave
the door unlocked,” said Baelir grinning. “Because I
never do that. “ “Fine then
spoilsport. I learned how to not that long ago, it’s very tricky to learn, but
I had a really good teacher.” “I don’t
suppose it was one of those ‘free-spirited young women’ you mentioned earlier?” “Maybe,”
grinned Baelir, confirming Casren’s suspicions. With the door securely locked, the brothers
headed towards the Collisphere, praying that Abareth and their father weren’t
too displeased with their late timing. © 2014 Gaelan_HamiltonAuthor's Note
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StatsAuthorGaelan_HamiltonAyr, Scotland, United KingdomAboutI'm an aspiring writer from Scotland currently studying Professional Writing Skills at college in Glasgow. As part of the course and also in my free time I write a lot of poetry, short stories and .. more..Writing
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