Refraction, a Rondo of Swords fanfiction
Chapter 4: Recovery...
It had been two week since then. Fourteen days since the double had fled from Luruze Castle, his home for the past year. For the first ten days, he had crossed the Mireneh Plains and rushed towards the outskirts of Bretwalde. It was a necessary measure, for the closer he was to the capital, the more likely his face would be recognised. It was best to keep a low profile.
He pulled down the hood of his cloak over his head as he stepped out of his room. He had long since changed out of the bloodied blue robes and armour, they had been packed into a saddle bag upon Spirit. Instead, he wore a grey shirt and pants under a brown cloak. His new attire had been purchased from a wandering merchant he had met upon the Mirenah Plains. He was glad he knew of the secret compartment inside the saddle where the late king Elliott had kept some coins. Otherwise, he would have not the supplies to make it all the way to this border town. With the coins, he had been able to buy supplies, clothes as well as rent a small room in the inn at the town.
In truth, the double had been at a loss as to what to do at first. He knew he had to return Spanta to the prince, but he could hardly turn around, not with the Grand Meir army separating him from Kay and Margus. Even if he made a detour, he would never catch up. And he would rather not rendezvous at Shalem, as it would be difficult to explain the existence of a double that nobody was to know. His existence was meant to be a secret.
However, a week ago, when he was still crossing the Mirenah Plains, he had an unexpected visitor. Aska, the prince's white goshawk, had found him as he crossed the plains. The hawk had been carrying messages between the prince and his sister on a monthly basis, and was the only means of communications between the two. Remembering that the princess had not arrived as expected for the king's funeral, the double mentally apologised as he peeked into the message meant for his prince.
Receiving the message had led him to remember the commands that the prince had given him. There were three: to cleanse Spanta, to protect Bretwalde, and to protect Marie. He had promised to aid Serdic in achieving these, but only one was really possible to him. He could only try to cleanse the holy blade. That was now his goal, but he had yet to find a way to achieve it. His tentative plan was to head to the Divine Nation of Verona, where there were the country with the most Light magicians. Maybe there, he would find someone knowledgeable about dispelling the curse upon Spanta. He had written out his plans and rolled it with the princess' own letter, then sent the goshawk on towards Shalem. From then on, he had travelled towards the borders of Bretwalde.
It was his third day at this border town, and he was eager to leave before rumours of a cloaked traveller spread too far. He would have left earlier, but the only apothecary in the town had sold out of healing salves. He had been told to wait for the next shipment, which ought to have come in this morning. As he entered the apothecary, he saw a large group of customers making their purchases. The shipment had arrived.
He had been last in the queue, and left when there was no other customers left in the store. Yet, as he walked back, he could heard a patter of footsteps behind him. Feeling a little suspicious, he turned down the closest alleyway. Whoever it was followed him in. The double continued at a steady pace, but his right hand had shifted down to grasp his blade. He was tense, awaiting a sudden attack.
And his expectations were shattered when a young voice called, "Prince Serdic?"
Turning around, he realised that the follower was a child that could not be past sixteen. Turquoise eyes scrutinised him. It was a strange colour, but it matched his hair, and fitted with the blue robes set upon his shoulders. Carried in his hand, was a staff that looked like it was made entirely out of ice. A staff like that meant that the boy was a magician despite his tender age.
"Who are you?" he asked, more curious than wary. The boy had called out to him, rather than attack, and he doubted that the Grand Meir Empire had such young assassins.
"I am Selmer, a magician from Almeria. Are you the Crown Prince of Bretwalde, Serdic?" The boy asked.
The boy, Selmer, had asked a question which would have been easy enough for the actual prince to answer. For the double, however, the situation was far more complex. What should he do?
The double took a deep breath, then pulled down his hood. The boy, Selmer, let out a gasp.
"Prince Serdic! I truly did not expect to meet you here. I heard rumours that the Bretwalde army had fled to Shalem and was about to travel there instead." Selmer exclaimed.
Breathe. Think like Serdic. The double thought, trying to calm himself. It was not the first time he had been thrown into a situation where he had to act as the prince without prior information, but each instance still scared him.
"You were looking for me?" the double asked, keeping his voice steady.
"Yes, my Master Arios ordered me to find you and help as best I can." Selmer replied.
Neither names were familiar to him. Figuring that he needed to buy some time, he pulled his hood back on and said, "Here is not a good place to talk. I have a room at the inn, we can talk there."
On the walk back, the double tried to remember what he knew of Almeria. The books he had read had called it the Magic Nation, as it boasted the highest population of magicians in the world. This was due to the Ark, an academy meant for mages. Ordinary people flocked there, in hopes of being identified as one with the gift for magic while established magicians headed there for their libraries.
Almeria and Bretwalde had fairly good ties with each other, even though contact between the two countries were infrequent. Serdic had mentioned that he had been there a couple of times. However, it had been an off-hand mention, the prince had never went into details of what he did there. This meant he would have to play this whole thing by ear...
When they reached his room in the inn, the double made sure to close both doors and windows, before turning to the mage.
"In truth, I never imagined that Almeria's mages would send aid." he remarked. He did not imagine meeting anyone from Almeria when he had chosen to flee north.
Selmer raised an eyebrow, saying, "You've previously been a friend to us quite often, Prince Serdic. We cannot sit idly by when you're in danger."
A friend. Did this mean that Serdic had done some favours for Almeria? However, Selmer had said that he came due to his master's orders, and not on behalf of Almeria. It would be strange if Almeria's aid came in the form of a single mage. To clarify, he asked Selmer, " Are you here merely on behalf of your master?"
Selmer understood what he was asking. With a frown, he explained, "When the news of Bretwalde's fall reached Almeria, the whole nation was shocked. Bretwalde fell extremely quickly, and there were many that felt that the Grand Meir Empire would be a new power upon the land. Of course, there were also those that supported Bretwalde... The two sides have been arguing in the council, and when I left, they had yet to come to a decision. Master Arios instructed me to go and find you first and provide aid, rather than waste time waiting for the Ark to come to a unified decision."
Seeing a frown appearing, Selmer apologised with a bow. "I apologise. With Almeria's democratic system, it is more difficult for us to be decisive. The Ark would need a majority of votes before it can actively lend aid to Bretwalde."
"There is no need to apologise for something that is no fault of yours." The double said, understanding the situation. "I appreciate that you have come to give aid, despite your troubles."
Selmer dipped his head, seeming relieved that the double did not take offense. Feeling more confident, Selmer asked, "Prince Serdic, it seems that you are travelling alone. Did anything happen to your guards?"
The troublesome questions had come one after another. To this one, the double had no choice but to lie. He told a somewhat different story than what had actually occurred, where the prince had escaped due to the two knights being decoy. At the mage's queries, he answered more questions about the Grand Meir's forces, and the ultimate state of Bretwalde's army.
"I had hoped that the news we received was exaggerating , but the situation truly is dire." Selmer commented. "As of now, you have no army, nor do you have the authority to gain one."
"...Both can be obtained when I am coronated. For now, I have a more pressing issue." The double said, remembering the contents of Princess Marie's letter. He reached to his waist and pulled out the sword sheathed at his waist.
Spanta came out smoothly. Its appearance had not changed since that day. Despite still having its golden hilt and immaculate silver blade, it no longer possessed the aura of the holy sword of legends. The curse upon the blade hid within the metal, blocking the true power of the blade. The double had only felt the hum of its power once since then, when the blade had moved to protect him from Alberich's strike. Afterwards, it had remained quiet, feeling more like an ordinary sword than a sacred artifact.
"Spanta was cursed during the siege. I cannot be coronated with the Holy Emblem of Bretwalde in this state." The double explained to Selmer.
At his request, the double passed the cursed blade to Selmer. After a moment of inspection, the mage returned the blade to him. "I might have a possible solution. I can feel magical power from the sword. And where magic is concerned, my master, Arios, may be able to intercede. " Selmer suggested.
This was a suggestion he had not considered before, as he had never imagined that he would be able to get the aid of Almerian magicians. Almeria was a country that studied magic, so Selmer's master might have more knowledge of how to cleanse the curse upon the blade. Furthermore, with this Arios having sent aid, it was more likely that he would be willing to help. It seemed that his new destination was Almeria.
He dipped his head in agreement, and started to discuss the supplies required to cross the Ismael Desert.
Ansom left the meeting with a smile, and a non-committal reply to the requests of the other tribes. His face had stayed calm, his words had been pleasant, albeit sounding slightly troubled. However, the moment they had stepped out, his footsteps had suddenly quickened. The loud thuds of his shoes upon the floor betrayed his true intentions.
"Calm your heart, Ansom. Anger does not serve us well here." His father, Emir Darsin chided as he followed the younger Emir through the castle halls. "The Shalem Federation, like all other nations, stands at a crossroads now. Their proposal is a possible solution for the Shalem to take."
"Giving in to the Grand Meir Empire would be consigning ourselves under their rule. It would mean losing our hard-earned independence! It took us centuries to gain recognition as a country, and now they would forfeit it and expose our people to the Empire's whims?" Ansom gritted out. He could not believe the gall of the other representatives. The Ga, Ma, Ha and Ra tribes knew nothing about the burdens their Na tribe had to go through to keep the country's autonomy.
His father let out a sigh. "Bretwalde fell too quickly. It did not even last a day of siege. Their army was wiped out, and there has been no news of their royals." Darsin said, encompassing the news the Shalem Federation had received.
"In their eyes, Bretwalde is lost. Bretwalde may not be the strongest military power on the continent, but it is still the country founded by the Holy King Altrius. Its military strength exceeds ours, yet the country went down within a day. The Grand Meir Empire may have employed some trickery, but the fact remains that one of the powers on Bravord has fallen to their might. It is not unexpected that some of the tribes would be willing to bow their heads." The father continued.
"...At least, for now, we can stall." Ansom muttered. "So long as Grand Meir has yet to demand our surrender, the other tribes cannot force us to do so."
His father nodded. "For now, Grand Meir is busy subjugating the rest of Bretwalde. We have some time. Our time should be spent looking after our guests."
Ansom understood. At the next intersection, he was unsurprised when the older Emir turned and left him. Other than the first time, his father had not accompanied him in seeing their guests. His father had left this job to Ansom alone.
It was simple to distinguish which of the guest rooms were occupied, for only one had a closed door. It was not locked, meaning that the occupant was awake. Pulling the door open, he stepped in to see two people in the room. One was his bodyguard, Sasha, relieved from her usual duties at his side to stand guard over their guest. The other was sitting up upon the only bed in the room, sipping a cup of tea. The person looked up at his arrival.
"Oh, it's Ansom! Or, should I be calling you Emir Ansom now?" A cheery voice sounded. The supposedly missing prince of Bretwalde smirked at him from his position on the bed."You never told me that you've already reached the position of Emir. I had to learn from Sasha!"
"It slipped my mind. I had other things to worry about, like how to hide the appearance of two Bretwaldean knights and their prince." Ansom said, remembering their appearance a week ago.
That night, Sasha had roused him from his sleep, stating that their patrols had found knights that claimed to be from Bretwalde. When she reported that the crown prince of Bretwalde was with the group, the young Emir had immediately rushed down to see the situation with his own eyes. The report had not been wrong. He found Serdic unconscious upon the back of a horse, with his complexion dreadfully pale. Ansom did not wait for the knights to report, immediately calling healers for his friend. He had not been too late. After a few days of round-the-clock care, the Bretwaldean prince had finally awoken.
The cheery facade faded at the young chieftain light chide. The prince looked thoughtful at his words. Then, he dipped his head slightly. "I apologise. I must have caused trouble for you."
"It was little trouble to us. Your knights were prudent, and avoided being seen by the other tribes. Only people of the Na tribe know that you are here, and my father has already ordered that no news about you is to be leaked out." Ansom replied. "There is no problem with us sheltering you, the Na tribe and Bretwalde have been allies for centuries."
"I am in your debt." Serdic said. The sentence was all of five words, but the sincerity within them told him that his friend was grateful.
It felt somewhat strange to him, that Serdic had become so formal in his thanks. His way of speaking itself had changed, as if he was minding every word he said. It was likely an effect of the education to groom him into king. And along with the education, came the responsibilities he was to uphold. He was not surprised when Serdi suddenly made a request.
"Sasha, could you call my knights over? I'd like a firsthand account of Bretwalde's current state."
Serdic watched as the black haired retainer exited the room. There was the slightest twinge of jealousy, over how simple it was for her to cross the distance. His own body felt like lead, and his few previous attempts to get out of bed had required her aid.
"Are you sure you are alright?" Ansom turned to ask after Sasha had left. His friend's black eyes skimmed over his body. Serdic was glad that the paleness of his skin had receded over the days he had been awake. Considering how much he had bled, he was lucky to still be breathing. Physically, he was fine, not at his best, but he was recovering.
Mentally... was a different issue. How could a prince who had lost his kingdom be alright? The harsh reality had crashed down upon him the moment he had awoken. He had let Bretwalde, his homeland, be conquered by Grand Meir. The lands and the people of Bretwalde, the countrymen he was meant to protect, were now at the mercy of Grand Meir's whims. The bitter taste of failure hued his days. He lamented his weak state, even now, he craved for the ability to do something, anything. It was a slow torture, being confined to his bed, with nothing to do but to think about his failure. His only consolation was that he was still alive. He still had the chance to reclaim Bretwalde.
The slight change of his expression had been caught by his attentive friend. Ansom's eyebrows narrowed. "Don't push yourself if you aren't feeling fine." he admonished.
His concern had been mistaken, yet Serdic felt warm. It had been years since his last visit to Shalem, and since then, the two once-boys had busied themselves in learning to take up their respective roles for their countries. Despite this, the ties forged in boyhood had remained. In the few waking moments Serdic had shared with Ansom, the two had reminisced about the their time together in Shalem, when the responsibilities they carried were less. Serdic knew that part of the reason that Ansom stood so firmly upon his side was due to their friendship, and for that, he was ever grateful.
"I'm fine, Ansom." Serdic said to assure his worried friend. The simple concern had assuaged his heart. His mind calmer, he waited for his knights to arrive.
Sasha had been swift, or his knights had been close by, as barely minutes had passed before he saw all three of the file in. Upon seeing the prince awake, relief was clearly seen in the knights' eyes. Both bowed, but it was Margus that said, "I'm glad to see you well, Prince Serdic."
"I heard from Sasha and Ansom that it was the two of you that brought me out of Bretwalde. You have my thanks." Serdic said.
"We were merely performing our duty." Margus said with a smile. Kay had nodded as well, content at letting Margus talk for the both of them. A rare sight, for Serdic had always remembered the red knight to be eager to talk to him.
Serdic moved on to his objective. "Kay, Margus, you should know that I was not conscious during the attack upon Bretwalde. I would like to know the situation in more detail. Tell me about when you were escaping Evgard."
Unlike what he had expected, Margus hesitated. The two knights sent quick looks to each other. Then, Margus slowly said, "Prince Serdic, it might be better for me to make this report privately."
Serdic mulled over the words. There had been some agreement between Kay and Margus evidently, over some information that they had deemed for his ears only. It was no wonder Margus was taking charge here, as Kay's lips were looser. He took stock of the Shalemian's reactions. At his side, Sasha was frowning. Ansom remained impassive. Neither of them said anything.
It did not take him long to figure out the reason for his knight's insistence on discretion. He soon settled on a course of action.
"Ansom. If I'm not wrong, this room is in a rather lonesome spot in the castle. The only people that can come here are those authorised by you or Emir Darsin, and they are always accompanied by either Sasha, Kay or Margus. The healers and the servants also only come in at the appointed times. Thus, unless my sense of time is off, there should not be anyone nearby to eavesdrop. Am I correct in these assumptions?" Serdic queried.
"... You are right. In truth, few know of your presence here. My father gave strict orders to not let this information leak out. Outside of those in this room, only my father, the healers, and a few servants know that you are in this room. Furthermore, the walls here are thick, and sound does not travel far." Ansom replied, shedding a little more light upon the situation. The fact that he was being hidden did not surprise him. It was already to his advantage.
"Then, Sasha, would you close the door?" Serdic requested. When this was done, he turned to his knights.
"Kay, Margus... Please tell me about the events that occurred at Evgard on the day of Grand Meir's invasion. I would like a true account that does not leave out any details." he said, leaving no room for his knights to argue.
However, a refute still came, from an unlikely source. "Are you sure that is wise?" Sasha asked, ignoring a glance from Ansom. "I understand that this is a show of faith, Prince Serdic, but there may be some personal news meant only for you. "
"I already have a rough idea as to what they have to report." Serdic admitted, to Sasha's surprise. "There is only a limited amount of knowledge that is worth hiding from our allies. "
He turned to the awaiting knights. "The last person I saw before I fell unconscious was my double. Tell me, what happened to him?"
Seeing his prince resolutely sticking to his decision, Margus dipped his head and dutifully made his report. The only person who interjected was Kay, and he only did so to fill in any gaps. When they finished, the room was silent, with each occupant mulling over the new facts received. The bearers of bad news watched their prince quietly, awaiting for his next words.
"So, he became the decoy to lure Alberich away..." Serdic murmured. It was a hard fact to accept, that the person who had saved him had went on to risk his life, all for the sake of ensuring he escaped. He had known that his double was loyal, but to know that he would be willing to die for him...
His hands had clenched into fists, and he was thankful they were hidden under the sheets. As a prince, it was supposed to be normal for his knights to die for him. It was something that he was expected to accept. However, receiving the news had made his heart stop. It was... difficult to simply accept things as they were.
"Ansom, have there been any news from Grand Meir? Have they made any demands?" Serdic asked as a thought, a slight hope occurred to him.
"They have not. We presume they are still busy subjugating the rest of Bretwalde." Ansom replied, shaking his head. His words had been meant as informative, but it served as another reminder of the prince's failure. It took effort to unclench his hands and continue his queries.
"...So, no news about them killing the Bretwaldean prince?" Serdic asked. When everyone gave him confused look, he let out a laugh. At least, there was still a silver lining. "Then, he managed to get away. If Grand Meir did kill him, they would have spread the news to intimidate all the other countries." He said, feeling relief.
"Are you referring to your double? Would he really be able to fool Grand Meir?" Sasha asked, curious.
The weight in his heart lessened, Serdic felt less stressed. A small bit of mischievousness bled into his voice as he threw the question over. "What did you think, Kay? Did you call him Prince Serdic?"
The stunned look on the red knight's face was enough of an answer. Kay was tongue-tied, unsure if admitting that he had been completely fooled would be considered disrespectful to the prince. As seconds passed, and Margus did not interject, he knew he had to answer. Finally, he dipped his head and admitted, "I was completely fooled. He looked exactly the same, and even spoke the same way you did."
"He would not have been my double if he didn't. The only person who could tell when he was acting as me was my father." Serdic replied, remembering the time that he did ask his double to try. "We'll have to go find him soon."
"Prince Serdic...Surely, he isn't that important?" Margus asked, apparently noting what had been the focus of the prince's questions.
Serdic was admittedly rather worried over his loyal double, but there was a second reason for his concern. He thought about how to drop this piece of information, then decided that the most direct way was the best way. "Oh, he is. Unless you tell me that he returned Spanta before galloping off to be decoy."
The cacophony of exclamations made him regret his decision. He hoped that the walls of the room was truly as thick as Ansom had said them to be.
"You passed Spanta to your double?" Sasha asked, shocked that the holy emblem of Bretwalde was not with the prince.
"He would not be a very convincing double, otherwise." Serdic replied, settling on a half-truth. What that had transpired while he was bleeding to death need not be mentioned just yet. Seeing that the others still looked sceptical, he threw in another bit of information. "Spanta would not be very useful even if I had it. It was cursed in the siege."
"Cursed?" Margus queried, echoing the thoughts of the rest.
Serdic thought for a bit before answering. "One of the things Grand Meir prepared to cripple Bretwalde. Among the soldiers that attacked me, there was one that was able to curse the sword. Spanta's powers have weakened, and it has lost its glow. " Remembering the dark powers that had corroded the blade, he could not help but feel that Grand Meir had been too well prepared. For now though, he put the thought aside. There was little he could do to check his suspicions in his current state.
"Either way, as you do not have Spanta, you cannot rely on it. Not having Bretwalde's royal emblem will make things difficult. It's a symbol of political authority, without it, it will be difficult to get the people to fight for you." Ansom pointed out.
"It would be troublesome either way." Serdic said with a shake of his head. "Well, that's for the far-off future, when I'm actually recovered enough to convince people."
His words had been a slight hyperbole, but Ansom had heard the tiredness that had crept into his voice. "We have kept you up for long." The Emir noted. Kay and Margus understood that they were being dismissed. When Serdic gave a nod, they bade him farewell and left the prince to his rest.
Sasha was the last of the retainers to reach the door, and she held the door open for her master to leave. To her surprise, the Emir did not move just yet. Ansom waited till the prince's knights were out of sight before speaking.
"You aren't fine, Serdic. And I know you have no reason to be. But, for now, it's not productive for you to dwell upon it." He admonished lightly. "Rest and recover. Only when you are well, can you help your country."
The truth of in those words -the fact that he was unable to do anything- frustrated him. Serdic could only watch as the Emir left, leaving his bodyguard to guard his room once more. There was nothing more he could do then lay upon the bed again and hope that his strength would return faster.
Chapter 4: Recovery... is slow but steady
-End-
Author's note:
This is a chapter that is light on plot, and heavy on explanations. Sadly, there was no way to avoid this info dump. Serdic's group need more information as to what has occurred, though, Serdic himself is still being close-mouthed about certain things. Maybe later, the prince will be more willing to share his thoughts.
This is the first chapter that I have to write Prince Serdic as a character that is not the about-to-die prince. I'm pretty much having to make his character, due to the fact that those who have played the game would realise that they know extremely little about him. In fact, the reason this chapter took so long was due to Serdic's POV stumping me for quite a while, causing me to rewrite it multiple times before I felt satisfied. This is a chapter I feel less confident with, I might come back and work on it again.
The Ansom POV was a result of me realising how political Rondo of Swords is, and how I could use it. The game is about politics between countries, and the different routes in the game showed the different ways in which the protagonist made his allies. There is more high fantasy elements than I expected when I first started writing this, but it's a fun challenge.
Oh, and the double. The double's going to go on his own little adventure to Almeria. I suppose this is where I start having the freedom to diverge somewhat from the in-game chronology. Have fun guessing what that is to come~