Refraction, a Rondo of Swords fanfiction
Chapter 1: The light dims...
Steel met steel, the clashing sound reverberating down the walls of the castle. Luruze, the castle of Egvard was under siege. Soldiers in bright orange armour marched down the halls, their blades drenched red in the blood of the defending guards. Despite having cleared most of the castle of its inhabitants, the platoon continued to scour the many rooms of the castle. They still had one target left.
Their target was the Crown Prince of Bretwalde, Prince Serdic. The prince had been seen at his father's funeral, paying his respects to the dead when they had struck. However, the ambush team reported that the prince had escaped. The prince's guards had given their lives to block the assault and the prince had disappeared in the chaos.
It was unlikely that the prince would have remained in the castle. However, their commander was a meticulous one. He had ordered that no stone would be left unturned, and theirs was the team left to search the castle. The leader of the group had little hope of them coming with results but…
In a desolate corner of the castle, they found an occupied room. A boy stood there, garbed in black mourning attire. At the sight of them, he leapt into a battle stance. The blade he wielded was the clearest indicator of who he was.
"Prince Serdic of Bretwalde. It is your turn to die." The leader announced as the soldiers surrounded their target.
His mind descended into confusion upon seeing the four soldiers file in. What had happened to the castle? Why were the soldiers of Grand Meir attacking? He would have panicked, but the glow of the sword within his hands calmed him. He might be outnumbered, but he was wielding the holy blade of Bretwalde, Spanta.
The blade shimmered gold, and with a swing, a ray shot forth, piercing through the enemy lines. The three soldiers in the way staggered back, silver scars appearing upon their orange armour. However, one had reacted on time, sidestepping the attack and approaching the prince.
A spear lunged, aiming to skewer the prince, but the prince had ducked to evade. His next movement was to leap, not at his current attacker, but toward the three soldiers that had been recovering their balance. Their spears did not move in time, and his blade hacked through the armour of the first. The reckless charge took down the second one as well, but by the time he reached the third, the soldier was ready. He could dodge, but that would bring him out of range. The spear was longer than his sword, so he readied himself to take a glancing blow... At least, until he saw another spear come at his side. The soldier he had ignored, he realised too late.
Two spears hit the prince, the first sliced his side, the second plunged straight into it. Pain clouded his mind. He was on the verge of collapsing in pain, but Spanta lit up once more. Gritting his teeth, he let loose another beam of light, catching the less attentive of the two soldiers off-guard. The deep cut through the man's abdomen bespoke his fate.
Only one soldier remained, but that one was likely the most skilled of the group. The man wielded his blood covered spear with a nasty grin.
"Like this… the final option shouldn't even be necessary. You will just bleed to death, wouldn't you? If you die, I can go free…" the man spoke, a crazed look entering his eyes.
A flurry of jabs assaulted the prince. In his now weakened state, each blow sapped his strength. He could feel his focus weakening, and he knew that soon, he would not be able to fend off the spear of death.
As the seconds went by, the prince's guard weakened and weakened. Soon, a perfect opportunity presented itself to the assailant. The prince's sword hand had been knocked back, and he was wide open to be skewered. The assailant lunged forward at his chance.
He did not expect the next series of events.
The prince's free hand grabbed the approaching spear, pulling it aside as he dodged away. The soldier, brought forward by his lunge, was brought into the range of the holy sword. It was too late when the soldier realised that the prince's weakening guard had been a ruse, all to bring him in range of a killing strike. The holy blade impaled the final assailant.
"Ahaha…"
A weak, raspy laugh came from the dying soldier. Wary of any possible tricks, the prince distanced himself from the man. With the sword removed from his body, the soldier collapsed to the ground. However, his red eyes never left the prince.
"I may not have escaped my fate… but I did what I was to do… The holy blade… shall no longer… shine…" the soldier muttered as the life slowly dimmed from his eyes.
At the dying man's words, the prince's attention was drawn to his sword. Strands of dark magic had surrounded the blade, eroding the ever-present glow of the blade. Soon, the gold hue of the blade regressed, gold giving way to silver, giving the holy sword an ordinary metallic appearance.
The prince felt the power of the holy blade ebb and in turn, felt himself weakening. The adrenaline now gone from his body, he realised he had more to worry about than the sword's curse. Blood dripped from the open wound in his side, pooling onto the ground.
It was… a lot of blood. It was not wrong to describe it as a pool.
He was en route to a slow death by bleeding. There were no healers nearby, no potions either, not in this desolate corner of the castle which he had hid in. There was not enough time to get help from someone else, his body wouldn't last that long.
At this rate, what would become of Bretwalde? Its capital was overrun by enemies, its holy blade was cursed and its crown prince was dying. The once-proud kingdom had been crippled by Grand Meir's blitzkrieg attack. It seemed unlikely that the holy kingdom would be able to continue…
"Prince Serdic!" The yell of his name brought him back to his senses. The sight of the person at the doorway made him realise that not all hope had been lost.
As always, it felt as if he was looking at a mirror. The newcomer was virtually identical to him, from his blonde hair to his blue eyes. There was naught a difference in their height nor weight. This doppelganger was the prince's double, and it was he who had attended the king's funeral. None had been wiser to the ruse, so alike were the two.
Really the only distinguishing feature between them lay in their attire. The double was far better geared for battle, with a shiny white breastplate worn over the dark blue robes. It was the attire that the prince had chosen for his father's funeral, to honour the king as a knight of the holy blade. The armour had served its actual purpose as well, the scratches upon the shoulder guard attesting to the attacks its owner had suffered.
"Your wounds... Please hold on, my Prince!" The double exclaimed as he rushed to the prince's side.
However, the prince's eyes were trained on the now scarred armour. His double had no doubt been attacked when he was at the funeral, which was held in the cathedral, at opposite side of the castle. There should have been no reason for the soldiers to search this area; they should have expected the prince to flee from the castle. Unless... they knew that he would hide here. Add in the fact that the timing and speed of the assault upon the castle had been almost perfect...
"Forget about me... The important things is that it seems the Empire isn't our only enemy." he announced gravely.
Who was it? And what would they stand to gain? His eyes fell upon the tainted blade, and the twin blue orbs darkened in realisation. "I can't believe that they..."
The next words were lost as his vision swam disconcertingly. He stumbled, and the only reason he did not fall was due to his double supporting him. The words from his double were fuzzy, unclear.
The prince realised he did not have much time left. There were more important things to do.
Shaky fingers grasped the holy blade, and slowly pulled it out. The blade that had always fitted his palm, that had felt as if created for him, felt heavy. It was not merely due to his flagging strength. No, this was the weight of the holy blade, heavy with responsibility. For a moment, he hesitated, unwilling to burden a friend with it.
However, there weren't any other substitutes. His double would have to do what he would not be able to do.
"Take Spanta..." The prince urged, pushing the blade into his double's hands. "I won't need it... "
"You... you can't mean... What are you saying?!" the double exclaimed in protest.
"I think you know." The prince murmured. It took great effort just to lift his head to face his double. "It's too late for me..."
The double's eyes were glistening now. Yet, he did not speak. He did not know the words he should say.
"I have... a final request of you. Will you listen?" The prince asked, conscious of how the words sounded like a plea.
The words shook him from his silence. As always, upon receiving a command, the double dipped his head and assented. "Yes, my Prince!"
His double was a friend, one of his most trusted vassals, one of the most loyal knights under his command... This was why he dared entrust him with this task.
"Become me once again... and save Bretwalde in my stead."
To act in place of him as the crown prince, to save his homeland... only his double could do this. It would be as if the prince had never died. That he had escaped alive, and would be able to gather the remains of the Bretwaldean knights and command them to take back his homeland. The fact that the real prince had died in the castle... need not be made known. He would die in obscurity, his double would live on as Prince Serdic.
The double let out a gasp, understanding what the prince meant. He shook his head, wanting to deny the necessity of this. But there was no better choices available to the prince.
The prince continued. "During the battle earlier, the Holy Blade was cursed. Bretwalde cannot be saved without Spanta. You must find a way to remove this curse."
"I... I understand." the double said quietly.
"Oh, and if you should ever meet my sister..." The thought of the his only sibling made his heart ache. He would be leaving her behind. The thought terrified him more than losing the capital did.
Yet, he forced out the words. "If you ever meet Marie... look after her."
His double had frozen, not speaking a word. The prince took his silence as his consent. With this, the crown prince, Prince Serdic would live on. And if the worst occurred...
"As a Bretwaldean knight... and as royalty... I ask that you grant me an honourable death." It was a simple selfish wish... He did not wish his double to meet a similar fate as his.
"... Now go. Before your chance to escape is lost..." he commanded with what little strength he had left.
The double had remained silent. Then slowly, he took the holy blade, sheathing it to his left thigh. The prince relaxed, glad that his double had accepted the heavy responsibility. His eyes were beginning to close. Just speaking had drained his energy, and he was looking forward to rest...
And his eyes flew open when he felt himself being hefted upwards. It took him a few moments to realise that he was upon the back of his double.
"I'm sorry, my prince. I can't obey your command." His double declared as he shifted the bleeding prince into a more comfortable position.
"Wha- But for Bretwalde's sake-" His words were cut off by a spate of harsh coughs.
His double shook his head. "I don't believe that you are as far gone as you believe to be, my prince. It's too early for you to be giving me your final request."
"You won't... be able to escape... not with both of us..." the prince protested feebly.
His double wasn't listening.
"We haven't even tried. And if so, then, so be it." The double declared. "The king said that I'm not supposed to die before you. So you have to live!"
The double started running, carrying the injured prince with him. Even though the double did his best to be stable, each step still jerked the prince's body. With each movement, the prince felt his mind becoming murkier.
"You have plenty ahead of you, my prince. You have a kingdom to save, a holy blade to cleanse, and a sister to protect. " His double was saying. "You'll live to see this all done. That's what I'm here for."
"You fool... There's... no need to go so far..." The prince managed to utter. His head was light, he knew he wouldn't be able to remain conscious for much longer.
It was a while before the double spoke. "A year ago, you chose to save the life of a stranger. You found him somehow inside the castle walls, with injuries that would have killed him should you have left him alone. He could have been a spy, an assassin, or any other enemy against the throne... Yet, you made the choice to save him."
"This time, let me do the same for you."
Whatever reprimand in his throat was lost. He no longer had the strength to protest.
"Take care of Bretwalde... and Marie..." Serdic muttered, as darkness took hold on him.
Chapter 1: The light dims... but it is not lost.
-End-
Author's note:
So, my first return to writing after years of not writing full stories... is to write a fanfic for a fandom that is near non-existent. I blame Sae, a friend from discord, the only person I've known that have played the game. I also blame my frequent trips to lparchive during my internship, which was what that led me to knowing about this game. Finally, I blame Vegeta the 3rd, who wrote Sonata Rondo, the only Rondo of Swords fanfiction I have found. If not for that writer, I would not have this plot bunny, that have been gleefully eating up my holiday time. I blame you all, but I also have to credit you. I haven't had any great inspiration for writing for ages.
Really, I am writing this more for myself and Sae then for anyone. But if there is anyone else that finds this fic hidden in the Misc. Games section... well, welcome to what is probably the second RoS fanfiction on this website (correct me if I'm wrong, as I'd like to see any other works). This is an exploration of what-ifs, specifically, what if Prince Serdic had lived. The crown prince's death set off the whole game of Rondo of Swords, how much would it change if he had lived longer? This story is my interpretation of what could have happened.
I hope you will enjoy this tale of mine, where a slight refraction in the plot can cause many future deviations.