Sparks flew as both metal blades collided with each other, their owners both grunting from exertion as they pushed hard against their opponent. Zeb had the advantage with a two handed weapon, but all Tarn had to do was hold out as he flipped the short wooden sword in his other hand and slashed, breaking off the sword clash for the attack.

With elegant smoothness that only he could pull off, the black haired teen caught the wooden blade with the hilt of his bastard sword and batted it away, following up with a direct slash downwards. However, Tarn had in retaliation lunged out with a foot and smashed the sole into Zeb's stomach, causing his foe to stumble backwards as the red head slashed with his real blade. Again, Zeb deftly caught it with his two handed sword and the two were caught in a sword lock again.

"Break!" At the shout, both of them leapt back, making sure that the other understood that the duel was over as they twirled and sheathed their swords, bowing out of respect. Then they collapsed onto the dirt ground, both of them completely out of breath as the soldiers training all around them likewise followed. Apparently, dueling nonstop for a couple hours at a time took all the stamina out of young men.

But at the same time, both Tarn and Zeb had stronger grown thanks to the training from the Royal Guards over the last year or so. Their respective sword skills may be already at a skill matched by only legends, but their stamina is nonexistent. And as the Captain of the Guard so bluntly told them, "In the battlefield, there aren't breaks for those without energy!"

"Hey Zeb," Tarn began, shielding his eyes form the sun he stared up at by holding an arm over the pupils. "Do you resent me for wanting to kill your father?"

"Not really. He's an ambitious and aggressive and stupid: a dangerous combination that can only spell doom in the long term." Zeb groaned as he rotated his sword arm, feeling the muscles scream in pain. "He needs to be removed from power, and quickly. I don't know how though."

"Me neither."

"It's been a year and you still don't have a plan?"

"Do you?"

"Fair enough." The two shot grins at each other as they slowly staggered back onto their feet, obviously done for the day as they signaled to the gruff Guard Captain about their departure. While walking pass, Tarn tossed the now broken wooden short sword into the trash crate, adding yet another smashed wooden blade to the pile that he himself created. "You really should find yourself another actual weapon," Zeb remarked upon seeing the contents of the wooden container.

"I know, but all the real short blade weapons I've tried are way to light for my taste," Tarn complained, quickly matching pace with the prince as the two walked down the corridor in the Royal Palace. Even though only a year has passed, the added load of daily duels had ensured that Tarn was now only half a few hairs shorter than Zeb, despite the rough five year age difference they had. Perhaps it was puberty finally kicking in. "Even with the practice swords, I've had to use a denser wood type just to get the proper weight for a fair fight."

"So you would favor using something a bit heavier as your secondary?"

"Right. I'm thinking maybe trying out a bladed shield, or maybe even a sickle. Still, it's important that I get as much practice in as possible."

"But of course."

"What are you two doingggg?" The two boys paused in their walk down the hallway and turned around, facing the owner of the rather childish whine. A young toddler girl with midnight black hair was standing there, rubbing her eyes tiredly as she let a stuffed doll of a phoenix hang from her other hand. "Zebbbbbb, I'm really really tired!"

"Oh? Then shouldn't you be in bed dear Xana?" The young man grinned as he bent down and scooped up his sister-in-law into his arms, holding her carefully as he walked back down the hall and into a door. "You're going to need all the rest you can get if you want to get better soon!"

"But I've been sleeping a lot, really!" The young princess argued, not offering any resistance as her brother laid her down back on the bed and tucked her in. "And sometimes, I really sleep a lot! It's really dark and cozy when that happens!"

For a moment, as Tarn looked into the room, he saw a rare emotion presenting itself on the prince's face: Fear. It was only a moment, but the red head saw the black haired boy's eyes widen as well as his lips turning pale. His body shook for a second before calming, Zeb intent on showing only care for his sister in name. "It's alright Xana," He reassured, sitting down on the bed and running a hand through her hair. "Everything's going to be just fine. I swear, I'll make this right."

"Really?" She nervously peeked out from under the blankets, hugging her toy even harder. "You promise?"

"Yes…I promise."

Tarn silently looked on as Zeb kissed his sister on the forehead and, after checking that all the drapes were securely closed, gently close the door to the bedroom behind him. The minute the latch clicked shut, the prince let out a sigh and slumped against the door, sliding down it as he gathered his thoughts. However, the red head was the first to break the silence. "How long?"

"Our best estimate is a month," Was the quiet reply. "A month before…before her power…blossoms."

"Then we will have to enact the plan tonight," Tarn declared, shifting forwards and grabbing his sword hilt. "Everything is ready: the maps, the canteens, the lanterns."

"Right…right…" Zeb again let out a breath of despair as he thumped his head against the door. "We're going tomb raiding today. Wonderful. I should've taken a nap earlier."

"Are you prepared?"

"Never better. Let's do it."

O O O

"Are you sure this is the one?" Zeb asked skeptically as he examined the runes on the stone table, the carving barely visible in the moonlight. The prince knelt down and carefully blew against the rock, scattering the dust and debris that could've gathered in a thousand years of being a decorative ruin in the Royal Palace's Garden. "I mean, this is an odd location. I recall Mother telling me that this one was the oddest one out of them all, being quite a ways off from the other ruins."

"According to the translations, the pavilion of the gateway is located here," Tarn insisted, glancing around to make sure the two were alone. "Ancient records can't lie Zeb; the tomb entrance must be here!"

"I'm not seeing anything though!" The black haired teen insisted, throwing up his hands out of frustration. "What the bloody hell do these runes say anyway?! 'Abandon all hope ye who enter?!'"

"No, that's not it." The red head boy sighed and took out a book from under his coat, riffling it open to a page and glancing between the paper and stone. "It says 'Blood through honor, honor the past.'"

"I was close enough. Blood…." Zeb's eyes had an odd look in them as he tugged off a glove and tossed it to Tarn, who fumbled slightly between the glove and the book. "I have an idea, something that Mother also mentioned" He muttered, drawing out his bastard sword with his other hand.

"I think know what you're doing. Be careful."

"I will." Taking in a deep breath, Zeb raised the exposed palm and pressed his sword against the skin. With a hiss, he quickly sliced and winced as the blood began flowing freely out of the newly created wound. The prince immediately held it over the stone table and the two watched as the recently anointed blood of the Royals drip onto the runes. For a moment, nothing happened.

Then, the runes glowed a neon green color, shining brightly in the dark night as the entire stone pavilion they were standing on shook and rumbled. Behind Tarn, he heard something grinding and turned to see a section of the ground give way, a secret stone trapdoor opening up. "There!"

"I see, but first…" Zeb awkwardly gestured and the red head quickly took out a roll of bandages, wrapping it securely around the prince's open wound on his palm. But when Tarn offered back the glove, the older boy shook his head and glanced down at the blossoming red color against the white rough cloth. "Let's go. Not much time to waste!"

Together, the two slowly clambered down the rather small hole in the ruins, finding a small set of stairs leading and spiraling downwards. Just as Zeb managed to duck his head in, the trapdoor immediately resealed over them, ensuring that leaving now wasn't an option. They had to proceed downwards into the tomb.

"How welcoming," Tarn remarked, drawing out his own weapon and holding it up just in case. At the same time, he brought from another section of his coat a small lantern. With a few clicks, the flint and steel sparked and a light lit up the darkness, occupying Tarn's other hand. "Shall we?"

"Let's," Zeb agreed, holding up his sword as well as the two made their way down the stone stairs, wary of whatever may lurk in the shadows ahead. The light glinted off their stainless blades and aided showing what was ahead through the reflection, but it wasn't anything that stretched particularly far. The two boys felt a slow chill take over them as they went deeper and deeper, intruding on something ancient and asleep. The question was, would they wake a slumbering giant or find a cure?

The stairs eventually leveled out and led into a giant room that made both of them whisper prayers to the gods as they found the main tomb. Or rather, tombs. As if that was reassuring.

Zeb and Tarn were now standing in a massive room made entirely of a grey metallic material, with multiple floors that must stretch all the way to the surface from which they arrived from. On each floor were coffins laid against the walls, dozens of them, all emblazoned with a single logo: a skull with emerald jeweled eyes. There had to be hundreds, maybe even thousands of these tombs that were stored upwards like this!

"Look!" The red head boy whispered, casting his lantern outwards as they both looked down at their feet. There were multiple indented segments of the floor, all of them leading upwards and branching off in each floor, then further diversifying as they lead into a coffin. "This must be a 'power conduit'! I've read about them; through a single 'console,' entire armies could be activated by a single command."

"That must be the activation console over there then," Zeb pointed and indeed, there was an odd machine of sorts on a stand in the center of the room, with multiple buttons and a glass screen. "I think we shouldn't go near it, huh?"

"Best we don't," Tarn agreed, taking a cautious step forward and swinging the lantern around. "There. Look."

On one side of the room, there was a massive shrine, made out of various metal pieces and carved with runes. A glance at a few of the runes was enough to make Tarn shiver in fear from what ancient Terrazine must have done. On the other side, there was a coffin laying down, elevated from the ground. It must belong to somebody of worthy note.

Zeb had the same idea and moved forwards to the coffin, only to pause and groan, pointing at the ground. "The conduit links up the tomb and console. I think that trying to pry open the tomb would activate the console. Let's avoid that."

"The shrine, there might be something," Tarn suggested, walking carefully over to the abhorrent display of faith and examining it. He carefully placed the lamp down, sheathed his sword, and took back out his book, flipping through it as he translated what was inscribed in the metal sheets and pieces. Most of them were just blessings for - the red head was tempted to say they translated to weapons? No, that's ridiculous!

And yet…Tarn's foot suddenly nudged something and he looked down to see an odd tool strewn haphazardly on the shrine. It was something that looked to be a hybrid of a sickle and an axe, taking the general shape of the former but having the thickness of the later. He put his book away and bent down, grabbing the handle and lifting. To the boy's great surprise, he lifted it as though it was just as heavy as the wooden weighted short swords he used. "Huh," Tarn mused, feeling the grip and attempting a swing. "Not much range but…could be devastating. Zeb!"

"What?"

"Check this out!" The red head intended to toss the odd weapon he found over to the prince for his opinion, but, as Tarn's arm went down and up in an underhand toss, something went wrong. Or did it? The moment his hand left the hilt of the weapon, it went flying as if tossed in that direction and weighing several tons. "Woah!"

"Ack!" Zeb quickly ducked as the weapon whizzed over his head. It showed no signs of stopping and instead smashed into one of the coffins on the ground level, caving the metal top in as if pressured by tons instead of a simple sickle-axe. The black haired teen cautiously glanced backwards at the thrown weapon. "What the hell is that?!"

"I'm not sure!" Tarn replied, his voice slightly trembling as he noticed the shattered coffin. "I hope that we just didn't-"

"ERROR. ERROR DETECTED." The two whirled around to seen the control console blink to life, a robotic voice sounding from it. "DISTURBANCE IN POD NUMBER 42. INITIATING STAGE 1 DEFENSE."

"That doesn't sound good!" Tarn shouted, drawing out his weapon and holding it with his right hand. A sudden movement at the edge of his eyes caught attention and he shouted, "Zeb!"

The prince's eyes flickered and he immediately crouched downwards, getting under the lunging attacker and instead back swiping, beheading the offender in one movement. "What is it?" Zeb coolly asked, returning back to a ready guard position with his sword being gripped firmly in both hands. "Any idea?"

"Some kind of metal machine bug thing," Tarn replied, gesturing with his head back to the entrance of the stairs from which they came. More and more of the things were flying out of it at high speeds, all of them bearing a single eye locked onto the two. "Incoming!"

"I see them!" The two quickly back up into each other, giving affirmative nods before charging in. The machines were quick but not dangerous, as they mainly were trying to latch on and claw, but they were no match for the two blurred blades that hacked and slashed apart the attackers. Soon, all that was left of them were sparking and broken parts. "Tarn, tell me that was it."

"INITIATING STAGE 2 DEFENSE."

"I doubt it Zeb!" Tarn yelled, raising his blade as even more of them began flying out of the tunnels. "Get to the console and shut this thing down! I'll hold them off!"

"Got it!" There wasn't a bickering fight about who defended each other, this was not the time for honor! As the boy nimbly and deftly did the work of an entire squad of soldiers, Zeb strode over to the console and, with a might swing, decoupled it from the stand. Wires were cut and the machine was sent flying sideways, landing on the floor. "I hope that worked!"

"I hope so to-" Suddenly, an ominous blasting noise was heard and Tarn instinctively sidestepped, and not a moment too late. A green burst of energy slammed into where he stood just seconds before and erupted, giving the boy a blast of hot air as the blast dissipated. "What the hell!"

Zeb looked up and saw that the shot came from a…skeleton? But it wasn't one! It was made out of this grey metallic material and had glowing green circuits, akin to an automaton toy that children played with. But this toy was holding a smoking weapon of sorts, and was most likely hostile. It had emerged from one of the many coffins in the floor, the circuit leading into the container glowing green as power gave life.

Looking past the machine soldier, Zeb's eyes widened as more and more coffin lids opened up through circuit power and more of these things stepped out, bearing to arms already weapons at the intruding duo. "Tarn! Keep moving, don't let them pin you!" The prince shouted, dashing and weaving as multiple bursts of energy rained down upon the ground floor. "What are those weapons?!"

"They look awfully a lot like what the Easterners call 'fire weapons!'" Tarn replied, rolling just to avoid a shot. "From what I've heard and read, getting hit means death!"

"Then don't get hit!" Zeb growled. "Any ideas?!"

"Kill the leader before he can rise!" The boy shouted, pointing at the elevated tomb on the ground floor. Already, the circuit to that was glowing green. Any moment, that lid could open! "Cut off the head, the rest should die! Hopefully!"

"Well, here's to hopefully!" The prince of Terrazine shouted, charging forwards through the blasts and lunging just as the lid cracked open and something gripped the sides and pulled. "Yaaahhhhh!"

The bastard sword sank through the chest cavity with no resistance, leaving Zeb in direct face to face contact with an impassive metal skull with glowing green eyes. When he realized the thing wasn't dead, the teen roared and lifted his sword, tearing through the "bones" like a knife through hot butter as he ripped the blade from the awakened foe. Surely, it must be-!

"Ack!" Something wrapped around his throat and pulled, slamming Zeb's head into the side of the metallic tomb and dazing him. He stumbled backwards, trying to regain his senses as he glanced up and, to his horror, watched the machine come back together. The sheared metal knitted itself together, the circuits reconnected, it all pulled back without any hesitation. "No...no way!" He stammered.

"Zeb! Are you alright?!" Tarn shouted, suddenly appearing next to the prince and pulling him onto his feet. "We'll take him together! Charge!"

"No, wait!"

Already though, the red head leapt at the machine lord, swinging his blade in a sideways slashing motion. But the automated creation was too quick to react and countered by a jab to the chest with a staff of sorts, brought out of its own tomb. The ominous noise of shattering bone was heard as Tarn was unceremoniously batted off to the side, the boy crashing into the metallic floor with a thud and his blade following with a clatter.

"You-!" Zeb yelled and decided to charge as well, this time leaping with a downward slash directly to the face of this monster. The robot again was quick to react and grabbed the bastard sword with its spare hand, snapping the blade effortlessly and slamming Zeb down to the side.

But the prince wasn't out, as he shouted again and knocked the robot's legs, bringing the thing down as he took the broken shard tip that was his sword and plunged it directly into the lord's chest. "RAGGGHHHHHH!" He screamed, yanking out his broken sword and stabbing again. And again. And again!

The robot tried to repair, but Zeb's relentless attacks gave it no time as he just butchered the thing, shouting with every attack as the machine's green glow of life flickered and dimmed, eventually fading out. "AND STAY DOWN!" He yelled, slamming his palm into the battered forehead and slamming the head against the floor. Immediately, the prince recoiled with a hiss of pain as he realized his mistake of using his bandaged hand.

"Zeb!" Tarn shouted, quickly flipping back onto his feet and slashing backwards instinctively. His blade hissed as it decapitated an approaching robot warrior on the backhand edge, followed by a torso/chest slice forwards, ensuring that it would be down for a while. "Are you alright!"

"I'm fine! Just this stupid blood sacrifice!" Zeb shouted, yanking out his broken sword and grimacing at the sight of such a ruined art. "You don't happen to have a spare?"

"None at all, just get behind me!" The red head boy quickly made his way in front of the prince and raised his blade, glancing back at the injured and battered royal. "Quickly, escape! I'll hold them off for you!"

"Are you kidding? No way!" With a calm and focused intake of breath, Zeb raised his broken blade up with his bandaged hand and grinned. "With this broken sword and this blood that flows through my palms, I've sworn already to defend those who are my family."

"Family?"

"Those who would stand besides me like this and yell at me to get away. Those people," With an elegant swish, the Prince of Terrazine raised his shattered weapon and brandished it at the slowly advancing robotic warriors, "are the ones that I'll lay down my life for! So sorry!"

While Tarn wasn't looking, Zeb lashed out with his intact arm and slammed the boy backwards, making it so that the young red head was now the one away from danger. "What!" Tarn exclaimed, glasses askew as he glanced up. "No! Prince Zeb!"

"It's just Zeb, you got that?!" He roared, bringing the dagger-like tip back and charging forwards into the line of robots. "AND I'LL PROTECT MY FAMILY!"

There was a flash of bright light as Tarn watched in horror as the living machines opened fire at the charging injured swordsmen, the intensity of the flash so great that he had to shield his eyes from the incineration of his prince. "Goddammit NO!" He shouted, gripping his sword even tighter as he rolled onto his feet and raised the thin long blade. "I…I won't run! I'll-!"

A massive gust of cold air choked Tarn short as he was blown forcefully back, but managed to stay on his feet as his coat trailed in the sudden wind. The red head shut his eyes from the force, careful not to let go of his weapon as his teeth began to chatter from the sudden drop in temperature. When he opened his eyes, Tarn was immediately greeted with visible breath as he realized that it was now cold enough for condensation, and even further as he realized that everything was frozen.

Literally.

The death machines were encased in blocks of solid and clear ice, their green pulse of light now dimmed and gone. The entire room of coffins was covered in a thin layer of frost and snow, sealing every crack and freezing all the awakening robots. Where the control panel was is a massive glacier of ice that stretched up to the roof, something that surely wouldn't be melted easily.

And in the middle of the room, surrounded by a misty ring of cold air, was Zeb. But was it really? He stood taller, more confident. His eyes lost the tinge of pain that had been apparent during the fight, and was now replaced with steely will and a hint of wisdom. His black hair was now a pure silver white color, flowing past his shoulders and ending at waist level.

The most noticeable change however was his sword. No longer was it a broken blade; now, it was an ornate and regal broadsword, an emblem of a skull emblazoned on the pale blue cross guard. Runes of the ancient Terrazine language were etched into the center of the blade, the name of Zeb's new blade, forged out of blood and willpower. Frozen Throne.

"Zeb…" Tarn stumbled forwards, almost tripping on the icy flooring as he reached out to his friend. "Are…are you…?"

The newly reborn prince turned around and almost instinctively, the young red head boy raised his blade in self-defense. But it was unnecessary, as Zeb simply grinned, a familiar grin that Tarn had seen for months now. "I feel great. This…this is the power that I was seeking to protect my family!" He laughed, experimentally swinging his broadsword with one hand. It whistled as it moved through the air, cutting through the heat and infecting it with chilly winds. "Tarn! I know how to cure my sister now!"

"You do?!" His companion exclaimed. "Then let's leave this blasted and forsaken place and hurry back to the palace! Every second that we linger, the lower Xana's life force weakens!"

"Right. Allow me to lead the way friend." Without any further need for discussion, the two quickly exited the now frozen tomb. Tarn glanced behind once to see, lying on the ground not far from where it smashed against, the axe he had thrown. He made a mental note to come back later and retrieve it if possible; it was a good weapon.

The cool night sky greeted the two tomb raiders as the stone slab opened up without any blood sacrifice this time. But just as the entrance to the hidden lair sealed back up… "THERE THEY ARE!" A man bellowed and before either swordsman could draw their weapons, spears were pressed against their sides. Both Tarn and Zeb looked warily at the royal palace guards who just stared back from under the visors. "Prince Zeb! Your father called for you hours ago!"

"I was…busy," He smoothly replied, flipping his long silver hair over his shoulder. If the guards noticed the color change of their prince's hair, they pretended not to notice. "What exactly is the issue?"

"It's the Queen. She's gone into labor."

O O O

"THERE YOU ARE!" The King of Terrazine bellowed as both Zeb and Tarn were shown into the throne room of the palace. A wall of spears prodded them forwards as they reluctantly stepped closer to the red faced man. "Where were you?! A new heir to the kingdom is about to be born and you disappear on me! Unacceptable! And what the hell happened to your hair?!"

Tarn glanced to Zeb and could've sworn that the prince's hand twitched towards his sheathed new sword, as if wanting to draw it. But the white haired prince held himself back and remained clam in his tone. "Father, I have been 'enlightened'. I understand who and what I really am supposed to do in this world. And thus, I have been reborn into the person you see tonight."

"So does this mean that you will finally start learning from me how to rule?" A somewhat sadistically joyous tone crept into the King's voice as he leaned forwards. "Does this entail that you will finally accept your role as my heir and dissociate yourself with the unworthy?"

This time, it was Zeb's turn to glance at Tarn as he suddenly remembered what this man did to the teen's family. For now, it seems that the librarian was calm and collected; however, a hand was resting way too easily on his sword's hilt. A quick run up, a quick draw, and everything could collapse. He had to… "No. I will not become King."

At this declaration, even Tarn's jaw dropped as he stared at the calm prince. The man who just renounced his heritage, his legacy. Did he really just say…that he wasn't going to become king willingly? Was this a joke?

Apparently, the King thought so as he burst out into laughter. "You have learned how to become quite a jester! An interesting trait that could potentially win over new allies; I approve! In all seriousness though-"

"In all seriousness, I truly stand by my declaration: I will not become king of Terrazine." With a flick of his hand, Frozen Throne was drawn and slammed into the marble ground of the throne room, the blade sinking easily into the stone. "This blade has revealed to me what really matters to me. It isn't influence or power. It's family, and that always means you're sacrificing something for somebody else. In this case…I know that I truly am not fit for the throne, in both blood and ability. Neither are you to be entirely honest."

"You…you dare?!"

"I don't dare. I call out on a fact, which is fundamentally different. The true heir of this wondrous kingdom isn't Xana either though, as she holds a different destiny, one with a man who holds a vision that I couldn't hope to follow. The real successor to the Queen, old man, is her soon-to-be-born child."

"You ungrateful child! The King yelled, standing from his throne and pointing. "I'll have none of this nonsense! You need time to cool off; guards, escort the prince to his room. We'll let him out to meet his new sibling eventually."

"Yes sir."

"And you." Tarn's eyes hardened the moment the King's glare turned to him. "Who are you and what are you doing with the future king of this land?"

Out of the corner of his eye, Tarn saw Zeb slightly nod, as if encouraging him. The truth had been buried long enough; it was time to cut through the lies. "My name is Tarn."

"No family name? How queer. But I suppose a commoner like you doesn't need one."

"I did have a family name once though, but it was lost to the fires of history. But perhaps you can recognize it, seeing as you were the one to rob me of it."

"What? Wait…" Here, the King took a step back and collided with his throne, visibly shaking. "No…no it can't be! They assured me that you were crippled for life!"

"The only thing they crippled that belonged to me that night was my family. They left me intact," Tarn spoke as he stepped forward, "My revenge intact," Another step, and with a smooth hiss, the thin long blade of his heritage was drawn. "AND THE BLADE THAT I WILL SLAY YOU WITH NOW!" Tarn roared.

"GUARDS!"

"As if I would let you!" With a deliberate twist on his embedded sword, Zeb snarled and held out his hand. Immediately, a cloud of cold fog expanded outwards from the empty palm and filled the entire throne room, sending all inside into confusion as visibility became null. Sheer chaos ensued as the royal guards tried to find this assassin.

He wasn't even in the same room though. The moment he ensured the fog cast was successful, Zeb had grabbed Tarn's wrist and yanked him outside. "I was close!" The boy yelled, turning his blade to his friend. "Don't get in the way!"

"Now is not the time for your revenge!" Zeb whispered, pointing just past Tarn's shoulder. "Down the corridor, a right, then second door to your left. That should be Mother's room; you can get a royal pardon there!"

"What?! Why would I?!"

"Because I need you by my side if we are to truly change this world for the better! I'm off to see to Xana, avoid killing anybody if you can!"

"But isn't-" Without bothering to actually hear Tarn's final objection, Zeb took off, a hand securely gripping the sheath of his sword as his black robes trailed behind him, along with his pure white hair. "-the Queen in labor. Oh wonderful."

The red head boy gave a quick glance back into the fog filled room, almost longingly as his fingers tightened around the sword handle. His life's goal was there; he could avenge his family. It could be all over in five brief heartbeats.

But why was he hesitating? It wasn't like he was afraid to kill. And he certainly wasn't going to lose any sleep over gutting a man.

What would my family do? Tarn closed his eyes for a brief second, then with an elegant flick of the wrist, sheathed his sword. Revenge was second to serving the Queen. Perhaps Zeb had figured that out about Tarn.

Quickly, he followed the given instructions and came to a plain wooden door that had tightly shut. Several white robed woman were scrambling around outside in the corridor, many carrying bandages and buckets of water. They all froze upon seeing Tarn, and he instinctively glanced down at himself. He hadn't gotten the chance at all to change his clothes between fleeing the tomb and meeting the King, so to say that his butler's combat uniform was slightly ruffled up was a huge understatement, as pretty much half the outfit consisted of slash marks or burn holes or frozen fabric. "Oh. I'm a bit of a mess to seek an audience," The swordsman awkwardly commented.

It was apparently enough to terrify the nurses though and they all fled the marble corridor. Now all that stood between Tarn and the Queen was a simple wooden door. With a deep breath, the boy placed a hand on the silver door handle and pushed it open.

The Queen was lying on her bed, thankfully fully dressed as Tarn entered the room. He caught himself before entering and began to kneel at the threshold, only for a weak chuckle to interrupt him. "That is not necessary. You have traveled and journeyed long and hard to meet me; no more time shall be spent."

"Yes milady." The words felt odd on Tarn's tongue, but felt right at the same time as he made his way into the bedroom and quietly closed the door behind him. "I…I wish for a favor from you my Queen."

"Say no more, I understand the issue you have with my…husband." A flicker of a scowl appeared on the woman's pale face, but it was quickly gone. "Of course I will give you a full pardon, meaning that no matter what, tonight's actions cannot be taken against you."

Tarn blinked at how easily the Queen offered the pardon. Was that it? Just ask and receive? Surely…then he realized that the woman was not finished talking.

"However, I cannot guarantee the time beyond that as one of safety." The Queen coughed, then turned to look at Tarn directly. He immediately fell to his knees and kneeled out of instinct, something embedded in his family's code. The Queen first. "Tell me; what do you think of my son?"

"Zeb?" The bespectacled boy thought for a brief moment before carefully speaking. "He…is a fine prince. A charismatic leader. If he had the slightest ambition, he could execute it with precision that few people can boast to witness. I am willing to follow him."

"As a friend or as a subordinate however?" The Queen interrupted, surprising Tarn with her sudden insight. "Do you want to follow Zeb because he's a good leader and can create a new world? Or do you want to follow him as somebody you can talk to as equals, as friends who can set aside ambition and pour some tea to share with each other? That is what defines a person."

The Queen truly was wise as the legends said. "I…I wish to follow Zeb as both. I wish to have power under my command so as to aid him in his journey to this new world. But I also want to be selfish, and simply pass the time sipping wine with Zeb. I must beg forgiveness for being so-!"

"Not needed, I understand what you want, and I know how to give it." The Queen's hand weakly rose up and pointed at something at the base of her bed, a crib of sorts. "Look in there; tell me, what do you see?"

Was this another test? Tarn rose up slowly and walked over to the white crib, leaning over and peering at what it contained. His hands gripped the metal bars as he realize just who was in there, a small infant with a shock of pure white hair. "Is this…the new princess?"

"The new Queen."

"But…line of succession dictates that Zeb is first, followed by Xana!"

"I do not know, the stars merely predict that little Clara here will guide Terrazine as the future Queen. However…" Another cough, and the boy immediately was alarmed at the sight of blood from the woman's mouth. "As you can tell, I will most likely not be around to raise her in such a way needed. I need somebody of the old families to do so, somebody untainted and whole in their willpower and knowledge. Somebody free from the corruption that has just entered the bloodline."

"…Surely, you jest," Tarn quietly said, moving to stand next to the bed. "You surely cannot be implying…me?"

"Your family, before its' unfortunate demise, was the most loyal out of all to the Queens. Your people care not about self-advancement, save when you benefit from it when moving closer to your ultimate goal. I see no better choice."

"But…but I cannot! I am a mere librarian, somebody who can only rise up to the rank of Quartermaster perhaps with dedication over the years. I have no background, no connections, no powerful title behind my name!"

"Then I will give you power." The bed creaked as the Queen painfully shifted positions to be sitting on the edge, her eyes a steely glare as Tarn knelt once more. "Your sword."

Without even pausing or thinking, the boy unclipped the sheath from his belt and took out the long thing blade, resting it on his palms as he continued to stare at the ground. The Queen silently took it by the handle and gave it an experimental swing, nodding in admiration. "It is a good blade. It has seen generations of warfare. It will do."

"I, Queen of Terrazine, hereby name Tarn as Royal Knight of Terrazine. I empower him to protect and raise Princess Clara in whatever way he sees fit. I grant him powers that are second only to the royal family." She took the sword and pressed it against his neck on both sides respectively, a small smile on her face as she presented the blade back to the young boy. "Now, rise Sir Tarn, and take this blade to guide you to the future."

"Yes my Queen!" The red head immediately stood up and took the weapon, whirling it before sheathing the newly anointed royal blade. "I swear upon this that I shall see your daughter to a brighter future!"

"Good." Without any warning, the Queen's eyes glazed over and she fell backwards in her bed. "Now…I shall take a long nap."

And so spoke the final words of the last Queen of the Golden Age of Terrazine. Following her death, the kingdom was plunged into a time of warfare and infighting as false King hoarded his power. It barely was coherent upon contact with the Terran Empire.

But that's getting ahead of ourselves. Our story lies with Tarn, and his first task was to retrieve the axe from the tomb. After raising Clara of course, and he had a few years to go on that.