Crowning a Gallian King
Chapter 1: Succession must occur
Twenty years had passed since the end of war against Ashera. Peace had reigned supreme in the realm since the banishment of the goddess. The world returned to its prior state yet peace became the norm and racism and hate became more and more extreme views and ideals of the populous of Tellius were generally more tolerant and accepting the opposite. Gallia was one such place. The home of the beast tribe, a race of laguz warriors blessed with an ability to shift from human form to the form of a giant cat. This tribe was known well for their speed, strength, and lack of formal manners. They were the masters of feral fighting, of being blood drunk and thus they were the tribe of laguz that contained the highest populous and strongest influence in the realm of Tellius.
The kingdom stands as a monarchy with the ruling class being the most dominant of the beast tribe. In this land, the system of feudalistic rule is not founded upon the principle of birth exactly, but on the grounds of prowess and power. Gallia's king is always considered amongst the strongest of individuals in all of Tellius and is usually an even match for any person alive save the king of Goldoa, lord of dragons. This fact held true even with the recent change in the dragon lord since the war.
Enter Skrimir, general of the main armies of Gallia. He was young by laguz standards yet he proved himself most apt, adept, and worthy during the previous warring period. He led the beast tribe boldly as they charged across the land and he held the ground as the champions of Yune marched on Ashera. he even before that war was considered the next in line to be king as he was born a lion laguz the most naturally strong of the beast tribe giving him a distinct advantage to be stronger than the others of his land. His uncle was the current king and he raised him to be a fearless proud warrior. The general in all his years had only been humbled in battle by the might of Zelgius, the brave. As such, all knew that one day the lion would rise to be the new monarch of the kingdom of Gallia.
The current monarch was still powerful and true, a grand ruler of the realm loved by all and a man held in high esteem by all the other monarchs. However, each day began seeming more troublesome than the last and brought on new challenges that soon showed the wise king that his days as lord were coming to a close. He loved his kingdom and his subjects, yet with each new gray hair amongst his mane, the ruler smelled the end of his prowess nearing. This reason, the passing of days is why king Caineghis called for his loyal subject Ranulf to come to his private garden for a meeting.
"My liege!" the cat laguz called forth in respect as he knelt to one knee before the monarch. Face to the ground Ranulf presented himself to his master of many years. Ranulf was well aged by beorc standards yet was only in the middle of his laguz lifespan. He had a humble appearance and looked simple with his different colored eyes and slim frame, yet he was a famed officer of the court and known for his prowess in battle as he used his mind to overcome the absence of raw strength, much the opposite of his peerage. This afforded him to become a valiant and graceful warrior of an otherwise brutal berserking force.
The monarch reached forth and rose his old friend to his feet; he then hugged his slim officer. The officer blushed, as he was embarrassed to find his lowly self-being treated so well by the ruler of his country. The monarch sensing his longtime servant's tense posture released his grip started walking toward his dining table. "My friend," he called. Would you care to join me for an afternoon meal?" the blue cat laguz obliged the request of his lord. Both took seats opposite each other at the table as the king began to pull his fill from the banquet table of meats on the silver platter before the men. Ranulf calmly waited for the king to grab his fill before him himself moved to get a small respectable portion. The king seemed lost of the original topic of conversation as he licked his fingers clean after each handful of food was devoured. However, Ranulf was a wise man and knew better than to believe that the king had simply forgotten the reason for summoning him to his audience chamber. This tensed Ranulf further as he perceived this behavior to mean that the regent called him here to work on an extensive or matter of great importance. The thin laguz knew this to be the case yet dared not to interrupt the king who used the meal to stall the request just a while longer. Ranulf took a few bites of food in accordance with his own desires for food, yet his manners were tempered and refined not wild and brutish as was the king's manners. It made for quite a strange display, a brutish king and mannered officer. This however was the norm in the realm of the laguz. Kings were brutes with court officials of intelligence.
"Ranulf." the king paused his barrage of food into his gullet to speak to his servant. The cat perked up his ears and leaned in to listen intently to the next words of his master. He hoped the king was ready to reveal the reason behind his summoning.
"Now is the time, my nephew, Skrimir, it is time for him to become Gallia's master, the king." Ranulf shuttered for he knew what that meant for the reigning regent.
"But, milord!" he retorted in shock. "Your strength is still immense; your hair is barely gray, why allow this to happen now, they still sing countless yarns about your power lion king." Ranulf looked intently into the eyes of the king as he gave his appeal. The lion king dropped all food and put his hands on the table as he leaned forward toward the officer.
"I may still be strong, but not the legend I was in my prime." he paused to examine his claws; they were worn and most dulled from years of war. "If I remain king for much longer rebellion may grow in the hearts of the people, as they might realize that I am not the warrior I once was. They may question my leadership skills and divide the kingdom. I cannot have that happen." he slammed his fists into the table hard. "Gallia must be ruled by the strongest man of the kingdom."
Ranulf understood the message, he knew the minds of his comrades in the beast tribe, and that they rarely had much self-control in manners of violence. War would break out amongst the land if they began to even suspect that king Caineghis was not the most powerful. However, Ranulf also knew what Caineghis meant when he declared succession needed to occur.
"Lord, can't we stay this for a time longer?" Ranulf implored. He feared for the king, a man he respected and held in the highest regard. "Do you really think Skrimir is ready to complete such an ordeal?"
Caineghis nodded in a positive manner. "Ranulf, even if he is not ready, you know how this proceeds. He needs to rise above the rest." Caineghis folded his arms behind his back as he walked toward a window in the chamber. "Twenty years ago he proved he could lead armies, and only that beorc in red armor could stay his advance. Skrimir has been able physically for years to take my throne, but his mind needed seasoning." the king turned back towards his servant. "That is why I waited, for his development. Ranulf, he must become the new king. He must win and you must become his chancellor."
"MASTER! I CANNOT!" Ranulf dropped to his knees in embarrassment. His face to the floor, the cat wished for the king to take these words of grandeur back.
"Ranulf you must become chancellor." the king replied calmly. He then picked the cat off the floor and brought him back to his feet. "Your mind is superior to all others in the beast tribe. Only you can properly aid the new king to bring about prosperity and peace in his reign." the officer nodded reluctantly. He knew that this was to be a massive burden for his future, as well as for Skrimir.
"Ranulf, spread the word!" the royal tournament is to begin in two weeks!" the cat bowed as he exited the room, tears in his eyes, he stayed his emotions as he was off to complete his duty of informing the territory of the upcoming tournament. The king stayed behind in the chamber and once more stared out the window. He knew now that his time was ending, and that somehow made him happy inside.
"Skrimir. My nephew." he muttered to himself. "I hope you can win the tournament."