Disclaimer: I do not own these characters, they belong to Tom McGillis and Jennifer Pertsch.

Chapter two: Thirty-six moons

The sun was shining bright over Derlaven, it was a clear morning. The Rains of Klam had long gone away, and another moon had gone as well. Though it wasn't necessary to count anymore, now. For this was the thirty-sixth time the new moon rose to reign the night over Derlaven, Trenton had counted them well.

"No son of mine will become a star-reader" the King said to Trenton, smiling, resting a hand on his shoulder, catching him off guard while he was looking at the moon above, in the light-blue sky, as the sunset slowly died in the horizon. "Let alone my heir. You are to become the King, Trenton. Don't waste time looking up to the sky, leave that for those who are to study the stars. You are to lead troops, and to watch over Derlaven's citizens."

"I know, Father, I won't read the stars. I have no interest in them" Trenton answered reassuringly, standing up from his desk, standing straight in front of his father. Both bowed their heads. "Good morning, Father."

"Good morning son of mine. So, tell me. Why do I, then, keep seeing you look out of your window? At night and during the morning, at all hours of the day. It's something to worry about."

"It's a completely different reason, Father."

"You must tell me about it, son. Are you keeping secrets from me? Your teacher, your King and your Father?"

"No, Father, I would never keep secrets from you. It's just not a big deal" the son said, looking straight into his father's eyes, like the King demanded people to do when talking to him.

"My son is constantly looking out of the windows, diverting his attention from the lectures and lessons. It is a big deal" the King said with a serious look on his face.

Ashamed of this behavior, Trevor lowered his head and answered: "I'm sorry Father. I swear I have no other interest than learning what you want me to learn. Looking outside is nothing but a distraction when I feel overwhelmed."

The King looked at his son with his wise, old grey eyes. 'He's not a soldier, not a warrior, Donovan', a voice in his head convinced him, 'he's just a little boy…'

"Oh, for God's sake, look at you. You're still a summer-born lad, dammit, son."

Donovan was tall and big-boned. Despite his age, he looked younger than he actually was. The years of training and battling to defend his lands had paid him well: he was still strong and full of energy for at least two last great fights. He stood in front of his son like a big monument of himself, a glorious, impeccable portrait of the Great King of Derlaven, an image he had wrought during twenty years of serving his people. Citizens all across Derlaven praised the Almighty One, thanking him for the years of peace Donovan had brought since he became the Ruler, the Watcher and the Judge of the kingdom.

Unlike his father, Donovan, the third of his name, knew when to swing the sword and when to use his ability for speeches. Many wars had been avoided thanks to his soft and merciful spirit, always looking for peace where there couldn't be. Donovan was not only a wise man, but also kind and humble. He cared about every derlavenian. He had sworn to protect them all, and Donovan promised to himself, back when he was seventeen years old and occupied his father's place after his fateful demise in battle, that he would live up to that oath. And he did.

Donovan knew soon enough Trenton would have to sit on his throne. Although he considered he was healthier than most of the men of his age, he couldn't ignore the facts: some aches had started to bother him some time ago, and activities he used to enjoy such as hunting and riding were rather tedious than pleasant, lately. Putting his pride aside, the King knew that within the years Trenton would have to take his place, for the sake of the realm.

But damn, he was just a boy. He hadn't even started to grow up…his body and his face were still the body and the face of a thirteen-year-old boy, who would soon start to show some resemblance to the young man his father used to be: tall, slim but well-built, slightly-tanned gold skin, the same chin and notorious jaw, so typical of the Gregoirs. The only difference between Trenton and Donovan were the eyes. Trenton had his mother's eyes: green and bright as an emerald. They were his personal mark, his most remarkable feature: Trenton's eyes were ones into which you could willingly get lost. As for the thick, messy, nape-length raven-black hair falling over his eyes, that's something he took after his father.

"Sometimes I wonder if I might be pushing too hard on you, Trent. When I was your age, the pressure of becoming the heir was constantly bugging me" the King apologized, sitting on his son's bed, staring at the vacuum. Trenton stood still in front of him, still looking down, feeling ashamed of getting distracted. "You must forgive me, for sometimes I forget how it was like to be young and having a life ahead…" the King said to his son, placing his hand on his shoulder again. Trenton lifted his head to look at his father. "You should enjoy your life, while you can."

"Studying is my duty and my commitment to the Realm goes far beyond…"

"Hush now, Trenton. I admire your roughness and your responsibility…I raised you well. Perhaps too well" the King spoke in a whisper, huskily. "But follow my advice: be Trenton Gregoir before the time comes for you to become the Prince of Derlaven. You may not understand this now, but I beg you to remember these words."

Trent just stood there, looking at his father. How would he manage to be as great as he was? He wasn't the right one…he didn't feel he was worthy of the throne. If Dinehqa hadn't been born a girl, she'd be the right one to rule the kingdom, he thought. She was severe when she must be severe and sympathetic when sympathy was required. Besides, when they were little, he recalled, his sister's favourite game was to point different cities and villages on the map, pointing out their names, their lords, their main families and sometimes, the goods they produced and facts about their history. She was very bright, and very savvy. And although she could be very bossy at times, Trent admitted that was exactly what Kings and Queens are made of, something he didn't have: the ability of convincing people to do what he suggested.

Being the heir was very scary…but that could wait. The Sorcerers' Sect's Initiation Ritual was that night, and nothing could wash away Trent's enthusiasm for such event.

"There'll be plenty of time for your mind to think of wars to come. Let me get in charge of that for now."

"Thank you, Father" Trenton replied, fetching a book from the library and keeping it under his arm, "but I promise I shan't neglect my lessons, or forget who I am. Trenton Gregoir, the summer-born prince, Heir to Derlaven."

"You make me proud, son" the King smiled at the boy, looking at his young face through his aged eyes. The boy who was starting to thrive, looking a little less like a child every day that went by; consuming everything around him with those curious eyes, keeping everything in, in the shape of wisdom. There was no doubt for Donovan that Gregoirs' reign of peace would hold for another fifty years under his command. And all of the sudden, his soul was at ease, knowing his son was the best son there could be. "Go under the light of the Lord". The King disappeared through the door, and Trenton waited until he walked out of his view. Then, he rushed to the window, and looked down. His bedroom in the tower faced the outer walls of the castle, and beyond he could see the main square. Like every Day of the Lord, the square was crowded with people, but amongst them, there was one very recognisable blue gown, in the market section.

She was unmistakable.

"Good morning, m'lady."

"I'm no lady, my Lord" Gweneth answered, keeping the flask she had just bought in the weary cane basket.

"Shut it, Gwen. And my name is Trent, you may recall" the boy insisted.

"Yes it is, Trenton, my Lord" she replied standing up, taking off her hood, revealing her face.

Both smiled at each other.

"I've counted them. The moons" Trenton said, hands in the back, walking by her side as Gwen looked at the products the merchants offered, sometimes stopping by to take a closer look. "Are you nervous?"

"Very, my Lord…"

"I'm Trenton!"

"…I'll finally join the Sorcerers' Sect. I've been waiting all my life for this moment. But still, I have the feeling something's going to turn out wrong. I…can't help having this bad presage."

"It's only a bad feeling" Trent reassured her, "it must be normal amongst mages. Has your mother told you anything about today?"

"No, members of the sect aren't supposed to reveal anything about the ceremony" she explained calmly, as she understood it was very reasonable. "As much as I'm dying to know how it'll be, I know I must know nothing. That way, I'll react naturally when I'm faced to the test I must overcome. If I knew what these were about, I'd have gone prepared, and the idea of noticing the true nature of the mage that is being examined would be spoiled."

"Let me see if I got this straight" Trent replied behind her, as she paid a merchant for a bouquet of white, long sildets, "they will tell you to do something, and you must know how to react and what to do at that very moment. Is this how it works?"

"Exactly, my Lord."

"If you call me 'my Lord' one more time, Gwen, I swear I will have your head cut by the butcher."

Gwen turned around with her eyes wide open in dread and disappointment, and took a step backwards. She seemed…terrified, by what Trent had just said. He looked at her, surprise by that reaction. She was supposed to laugh…

"You…you wouldn't…"

"…well of course I wouldn't, Gwen, I was just joking! Really, I'm sorry, I didn't know I…sorry for scaring you, I didn't mean…I mean, who'd be cruel enough to do that to anyone…" the prince apologized, trying to make up for the uncomfortable situation he had created.

"Many people would, Trent" Gwen replied, concerned, but at ease now, looking at the prince's eyes with a hint of sadness. "People in your position over all."

She was paler now than ever, and didn't dare to look at him, not unlocking her eyes from the ground. Speaking in low, almost inaudible voice which seemed to break at the end of the sentence she rushed to speak, she said "I must go now."

Gwen left the market, striding away from Trent, leaving him feeling guilty. He couldn't have known a joke would affect her so badly…but still, it did. He had hurt his friend. It felt like a betrayal to him, and he needed to fix that…

'This was supposed to be a special day for her and I ruined it', the boy thought bitterly as he tried to find the way to make it up to her for that awful joke.

Trenton had been raised in the castle, a safe place protected by the walls. His perspective of life was very different from the reality beyond these walls: he had heard lords and dukes and even his own father —and sometimes his guardsmen, while taking a break of their job, in the courtyard— say that joke: 'I'll have your head cut off if you disobey your King. You will do as I say, or you shall face your fate', he used to say with a serious, deadly threatening look in his face and a deep husky voice, just before he and whoever he was talking to stormed in laughter and kept talking about their business, laughing their lungs off.

He hadn't realized until that day that decapitation wasn't a joke but actually a reality. In his young, innocent man, there was no place for the thought of beheading a man and taking his life being even possible. Because killing was wrong…

Being the son of a pacifist, Trent's knowledge about death was very limited. Crime in Derlaven was very low, almost inexistent except for a few poor souls who tried to sneak food from the market. Even that wasn't punished by death or anything violent at all; it was punishable by a small fine which could consist in working for the merchant for some time until the debt was paid, because Donovan understood the poor couldn't afford to pay a fine if they couldn't even pay for a piece of meat. Ever since Donovan started to reign, Derlaven had recovered its grace, its bright, its peace. And of course, there were not sudden attacks or sieges from another kingdom, or anything like that.
Trent ignored that, in extreme cases, the King held the right to take a man's life if he had committed a far worse crime, such as, say, murder…or be mad.

He was in his mother's womb when the last beheading took place. The man was poor, he lived in the skid row with his pregnant wife. He used to be a lumberjack until one day, in the forest outside the outer wall of Derlaven (the capital city, not the kingdom), he was found and hunt down by a Wolf Pack. His workmates abandoned him, trying to save their lives: most of them got to the city safe and sound, except for two who died in the way.

The woods surrounding the city of Derlaven are better known as The Misty Maze for a reason. It's not impossible to escape, but very unlikely. Only expert rangers of Derlaven's army were able to find a way to go through the woods without getting lost, or staying for a couple of nights at best. From afar, the walls and the castle rose amongst a dense, kilometric land covered by pines and bushy trees. There were many roads that lead to the city's entrance, but if you got lost in the way, soon enough you'd find yourself in the edge of the woods while trying to get back on the road. And the forest was dry and cold, very cold; there weren't many chances of survival. Let alone the creatures that lived in it: wolves, bears, foxes…

And at night, it is impossible to look up to the sky in hopes that stars might guide you home. There is barely space amongst the treetops for the moonlight to seep through. It's dark, very dark, and to make things worse, the mist is so dense that you can't watch your step.

The woods were a deadly trap, and this man had fallen in it. But he survived…he was found agonizing several days later. The lumberjacks had given notice to the army that three men didn't make it outside the woods, so a small crew headed there to find him.
But when they found the lumberjack, he wouldn't speak. He wouldn't explain what had happened in the forest. He looked troubled and scared, and wouldn't let anyone touch him, claiming that they couldn't damage him. The lumberjack was holding an axe and wouldn't see reason, wouldn't hear the crew. He attacked them. He had gone completely insane. And he managed to kill five men from the rescue crew, plus two citizens who tried to hold him back. He was immediately sentenced to death, since he was a threat to society.

Donovan heard the lumberjack's wife, just about to give birth to a baby, was a sorceress. Now a widow, she didn't have a man to feed her, let alone to love her or to father her child. Feeling bad about how everything turned out, he himself went to the skid row to talk to this woman. She understood what happened couldn't have been solved by any other way, and swore she didn't resent him for the decision he had taken.

Trying to make it up for her, he decided she and her baby would be safe for the rest of their lives, he swore this to the poor woman. Considering that his arcane adviser was very old and wouldn't last much more than a few years, Donovan offered the woman this position. And she proved herself to be a great arcane adviser in the years to come.

Trent stood in the middle of the square, thinking about how to make her forgive him, when he came up with the perfect idea.

Hello again! Firstly I would like to thank everyone who read the first chapter, especially those who left a review. Thank you so, so much. Your advices and recommendations were very useful and your comments about the story made my day. Here's the second chapter. It's quite longer, but I think you won't get bored.

Now allow me to answer a review in Spanish, since the girl who wrote it doesn't have a Fanfiction account —I answered the reviews by PM. Thanks again! You rock guys!

CarmillaD: Gracias por tus palabras3 me alegro mucho de que te haya gustado. Espero que esta continuación sea de tu agrado, tus reviews siempre me alegran el día.

As always, please let me know if you spot mistakes, I'd really appreciate it.

Thanks for reading! I hope you're having a lovely day/night.