Whoever had decided that funerals were somber events had never taken the time to inform the late Lord Egbert. Castle Harlequin had never been so loud. Minstrels danced under the great arched roofs of the Grand Hall and sang their songs. People drank and laughed and generally created an uproar of which John was sure his father would have been proud, had he been alive to witness it.

The grief John felt had eventually faded. He was instead filled with anxiety. As heir to the castle, he was expected to take the throne within a week. If he was being honest with himself, he wasn't ready and didn't feel as though he would ever be ready. He sighed and stood up slowly, walking along the outskirts of the party. The entire castle, as well as the various outposts along the trails of the Windswept Peaks, relied on him.

Centuries earlier, a famous adventurer who called himself Colonel Sassacre staked a claim atop a stormy mountain, calling them the Windswept Peaks, and declaring he would make his home there. He started a family and built a sizable outpost; open to any willing to live there. The few who came were reckless, but strong and good people. Their outpost soon became a town and that town became Castle Harlequin, after the late Colonel's famous sense of humor.

Though much joking and japery occurred in the castle, devastating conditions surrounded it. The Windswept Peaks lived up to their name. Without the proper precaution, entire buildings had been completely destroyed and had to be rebuilt; even while the tempest continued to rage about them. Needless to say, it was not an easy task. The town had grown into a tightly knit community, forced to rely on one another in order to survive. If he were not careful, John knew that he would lead them to ruin.

He slowly looked around the room, his eyes flicking over faces he'd seen since childhood. Would he be able to lead them? He glanced at a banner hanging on the wall. It was bright blue and had his House's symbol, a gust of wind, emblazoned on it. John was only 22 years old, but he would be expected to be a figurehead. He didn't think he looked fit to be a king. He was tall and lanky, not to mention on the pale side. His attire seemed royal enough, with its ceremonial blue shades and long cape, as well as various embroiderments and tassels. But, he felt like a small child wearing his father's jacket. Which wasn't too far off from the truth.

As king, there were many obligations he had to live up to. He would have to delegate money and solve disputes in the town. But most troubling of all, if House Egbert were ever to go to war, he would have to lead them into battle. While he had been trained in the arts of Breath magic, as many members of the upper class had been, he had no experience with fighting. He had never so much as picked up the warhammer that had been his birthright. He couldn't stop thinking about the chances of his failure.

Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed Tavros, sitting in his chair as usual. After so many years, it was hard to imagine him without it. The 16-year-old boy, with his short brown hair had the potential to be quite attractive, but he didn't seem to care about such things. Instead, his hair normally resembled a bird's nest and he often looked as though he hadn't slept in days. He had said very little since the passing of the former king. John didn't blame him. The two of them had been quite close, and his passing had probably hit Tavros even harder than it had to himself.

Suddenly, he felt a tap on his shoulder and he swiveled around. He stood face-to-face with a tan figure, wearing a large black cloak covering a similarly black outfit with various red tribal markings on it. If that weren't enough to make him stand out, the three red streaks in his hair certainly did. Despite his intimidating appearance, a warm smile spread across his face. "Hello, John. It's been a while."

John smiled as well. "It's good to see you, Rufioh. How have you been?" Rufioh had been the personal adviser of the king, but he rarely stayed in Castle Harlequin lately. Instead he chose to roam Andros and collect information, reporting back when he could. Whenever the King needed him though, he would be there within a day: no matter what the distance was.

Rufioh's wide grin faded away. "I was quite grieved to hear of your father's passing. He was like a brother to me. When he accepted Tavros and I into his home… Well, no one had ever shown us such kindness before. You probably don't remember that, you were young." In fact, John could remember the day perfectly. He had been six years old when he had first met Rufioh, 8 years old, bursting in, weeping, and holding his cousin's broken body in his arms.

The heir nodded solemnly and looked over towards the dejected boy. "He's taken it quite hard. He hasn't spoken to anyone in days." Tavros had a love for the late king that even John could not quite fathom. While most people looked down on him as a cripple, there were very few that saw him as a man. And there was only one person who saw him like a son. It made sense that he rarely left the castle. And when he did, he preferred to be alone, enjoying the company of his horse more than that of others who would constantly worry about him falling or hurting himself.

"He'll have to grow up soon. He is a member of the Royal Court after all, despite his condition and his arrival here." Rufioh sighed and John could see the stress and pain in his eyes. He had never had an easy life. Between keeping an eye on his cousin, his adoptive family, and the other kingdoms, he was on a one-man mission to keep tabs on everything that was occurring in the land. But no one could say for sure what Rufioh had seen out in the wilderness, where he often brushed it off for lighter topics. John silently mused that in this case, the rogue's unique condition proved to be more of a help than a hindrance.

"You seem nervous." Rufioh met John's eyes, searching for some kind of response. "You're worried about taking the throne, right?" John nodded ever so slightly, embarrassed of his response. Leaders didn't fear such things. He was surprised when Rufioh put his hand on John's shoulder and smiled softly. "If you weren't concerned, I would dread the day that you were given the crown. In any case, I would suggest that you make contact with Equius Zahhak. I spoke with him today and he requested an audience with you."

John was slightly taken aback by the news. House Zahhak was not known for being social in any manner. Whatever it was that Equius wanted, it had to be important. He hoped that he didn't look as worried as he felt. "Did he say what this is about? It would be nice to have some sort of idea of what to prepare for before making my way down to the Caves."

Rufioh grinned and said "I don't recall Zahhak being the talkative type." The two of them laughed, remembering days that they had spent with Equius, many years ago. It was nice to remember days when they didn't have to carry the world on their shoulders.

After a few moments, John stopped laughing and started to think. "Perhaps Equius could teach me a bit about being a king." The rogue opened his mouth to respond, but was interrupted by a sudden impact against his left leg which was accompanied by a loud yell of "UNCLE RUFIOH!" John looked down to see a young girl with a mess of blonde hair.

Rufioh chuckled and hugged the little girl. "It's good to see you again, Casey." John smiled. He loved this castle. Everyone was family here, whether they were related or not. Cameron and Tricia, Casey's parents, worked in the kitchen, and let Casey wander around the castle. She had quickly grown bored, and had asked to be the messenger, deliver letters and notes to people around the castle, as well as sorting the mail. She proved to be adept at it, and was never seen with her yellow dress and grey satchel slung around her shoulder.

She let go of Rufioh's leg, and turned to look up at John, pulling a letter from her bag, slightly dampened from the rain. She handed it to him. "I was told to bring this directly to the King. I figured that meant you, even if you haven't been officially crowned yet." Despite the moistness, the seal on the paper still glistened brightly. A bright yellow sun gleamed on it. Out of the corner of his eye, John could see Rufioh frown slightly. He broke it open, and began to read it aloud.


To the new King of Castle Harlequin,

If I may introduce myself briefly, my name is Rose Lalonde, Queen of the Haj'Raki clan, hailing from the Gilded Sands. I assume that considering your mainly isolationist foreign policy, you know very little about myself or my people. In due time, you shall come to know more about us.

The purpose of this letter is to formally extend the hand of diplomacy to you. While you may not have been part of the wars between Houses and other such groups, I'm sure that you have heard about the fighting from House Zahhak, your allies, as they have been fighting off invaders quite successfully for some time now.


John looked up at Rufioh, confused. "Invaders? Attacking the Caves?"

He nodded grimly. "Your father didn't want anyone to worry about it. There has never been any need to be concerned. However, you should keep it in mind." John was at a total loss for words. Unable to respond, he continued reading. Casey hugged his leg, looking terrified.

I believe that it is time for these pointless conflicts to end. I invite you to join my people, as well as representatives from the other Kingdoms of Andros, in the Capital at the first meeting of the Andros High Council. I have full confidence that you will find your way there.

-Rose Lalonde


Rufioh clenched his jaw. "The Haj'Raki clan should not be trusted, John. They are known to be deceitful for their own personal profit." He looked away for a moment. "I have had dealings with high-ranking members of the tribe. They are a corrupted people." He took the letter from John and scanned it quickly. And even if that weren't the case, what they are proposing is absolutely insane. There hasn't been such a council for hundreds of years."

John looked around the room, wondering if anyone had heard the conversation. It didn't appear so, but that didn't change the fact that the current atmosphere didn't offer the best conditions. "Perhaps we should step outside for a moment." Rufioh nodded and the two of them made their way through the Grand Hall, into the main entrance, and walked underneath a large iron gate. Casey tagged along quietly, as she was known to, sticking close to John. He put a hand on her shoulder and asked Rufioh, "So, what should we do?"

The tan adviser took off his cloak, his bronze wings unfurling as they shimmered like glass. His broad shoulders and toned arms flexed as he handed it to Casey, walking into the rain. "Whether this is a deception or not, we should have our voice represented at this meeting. Gather together the most able-bodied men from all across the Windswept Peaks, appoint someone to take command while you are away and tell Tavros to pack his bags." He turned to face John, his eyes filled with an emotion that could only be described as determination. "I have some matters to tend to, but I will return soon. When I do, he and I will journey down to the Caves and meet with Equius, requesting him to accompany us to the Capital." He bowed his head respectfully. "Stay safe, my liege." He sprinted forward a few steps before leaping into the air and floating away on the wind.

The cold rain soaked John as he stood and looked out upon the mountains. He didn't know how long it had been, but eventually he felt a tug on his pants. He looked down to see Casey staring up at him. Her lip trembled and she looked as if she was about to cry. John smiled at her and picked her up. "You're scared, aren't you?" She nodded. "I am too. But we're members of the Royal Family, Casey. And even when we're scared, we have to put on a brave face and keep on going. Can you do that for me?" She wiped her eyes, and nodded again.

John hugged her, holding her close to him as he walked into the Grand Hall.