**This Story Contains Tcest**
Pairings: Raphael/Donatello, Leonardo/Michelangelo, Raphael/Michelangelo, Michelangelo/Donatello
Info: Alternate Universe, Royalty, Elemental Magic, Action/Adventure, Romance
~*~.~*~
~*~ Chapter Five: Varuna, Kingdom of Water ~*~
Three Weeks Later
...five days before the Trials of Succession are scheduled to begin...
~*~.~*~
The blanket of dew was wet against his toes as Donatello walked across the garden toward a hunched figure moving slowly through the flower boxes. He kept the sun rising from behind the mountains behind him to allow it to warm his shoulders pleasantly in a familiar way that he had dearly missed.
Six months spent traveling through the other kingdoms had been eye opening and well worth the effort, but he was more than happy to be home. He breathed deeply of the salty air, basking in the scent and the feel of it on his skin. The winter chill it usually carried was gone, hinting at summer days that were not too far away. If only he had more time to enjoy it.
He had arrived home from Aeolus with only ten days to spare. The heavy snow having caused a landslide that blocked his path off the mountain for almost a full week before they were able to clear it. The incident forced him to ride his precious mare as hard as he dared push her to make it back to Varuna in time.
When he finally reached the rolling hills he recognized as his own, he had to carefully sneak back across the border in the dead of night, making a mental note to talk to his border guard about the lack of patrols, before gratefully returning to the comfort of his own bed.
The next morning had been the worst part. After only a few hours of sleep he dragged himself out of bed to greet the shocked faces of his advisors and priests as they gathered for breakfast. When they were finally able to lift their jaws out of their bowls of porridge there had been a lot of shouting and lecturing and questions and Don never did get to eat.
The truth was, he felt almost no remorse for what he had done, but they were scolding him for an exceptionally long time and eventually Don couldn't help but feel just a small amount of guilt. He should not have stayed away so long. Now there was little time for him to enjoy the peace and comfort of familiar surroundings.
"Good morning, Papa." He called, knowing he would receive no response, but still hoping for it all the same.
The shuffling form of King Archus continued to dig around the flowers, seemingly unaware of the world around him as he lowly murmured to himself. He walked with a limp, a sturdy, tapered cylinder of wood strapped to his knee where the lower half of his right leg had once been, his rocky gait causing the plush royal robes draped over his shell to swish around his feet as he moved.
With a patient smile, Don sat on an overturned old bucket and watched his father work while quietly taking in the view.
His city stretched out below the garden, from the castle all the way to the bay. A peaceful scene of stone and brick buildings with thatched roofs and gently smoking hearth stacks that drew the eyes all the way down to the water.
The Kingdom of Varuna was bordered by the western ocean and surrounded by gently sloped mountain hillsides covered with old growth evergreens and oaks that created a thick forested barrier, shutting out the rest of the continent and keeping them concealed and safe in their harbor.
This secluded cove where his ancestors had built the capital city was a fertile valley, nourished by clear spring water that flowed in multiple small rivers down from the mountains. It offered a stable environment for a wide variety of crops with the bounty of the sea providing the rest of what they needed to thrive. Varuna's skilled and weathered fishermen had always been the most elite seafarers in the empire.
Most of the kingdom beyond the mountain hills was swamp and marshlands, where only the sturdiest of Varuna's citizens had been able to build their lives, scraping out their livelihoods by producing baskets and bags fashioned from stiff long bladed swamp grass, and by selling pottery and tools expertly fired from the thick mineral rich clay that lay abundant under the marsh pools.
When the borders were closed, not long after the last Trials of Succession concluded, all trade with the world beyond their valley was forbidden, commerce came to a standstill, and the fallout had been extremely hard on every citizen of Varuna and their way of life.
It had taken much struggle and hardship, but the people eventually adapted, day to day life went on, and Donatello was eternally proud of the relentless, unbendable nature of his people and the way they were able to flourish in the face of adversity.
Don brought his attention back to the garden and his father, bent over a bed of lilies only a few feet away. He had missed these quiet moments and wished this one could last just a bit longer, knowing he only had a scant few hours left to enjoy it before he needed to leave once again.
"The trials begin soon. I know I only just returned but... I need to leave by midday." Donatello spoke more for himself than anything else.
Conversations with his father were often one sided, but Don never, not even for a moment, wanted the old turtle to think that he was being excluded from what was happening around him.
Archus moved from flower box to flower box, pulling weeds, stimulating the soil, drawing water from aqueducts at his feet with small flicks of his fingers to refresh the colorful groups of blooms. He reached a box close to where Don sat and plucked a stem gently between his fingers. Eyes locked on the flower, he hobbled over and reached for his son.
Don held out his hand expectantly as Archus laid a small lavender daisy in his palm, closely studying his father's scarred face.
"Petals scatter on the wind, floating through the mist..." The king murmured quietly.
Don closed his fingers around the stem with a loving smile. "Thank you, Papa. I'll be home soon, and April will be here to keep you company while I'm gone."
If the old turtle understood what Don was saying to him, he made no indication, he simply turned away and shuffled back to his flowers.
Don rose to leave, slipping the lavender daisy through a buttonhole on the front of his tunic. His father had his own way of showing affection and it was rare to see him make the effort. Being the focus of his attentions for even a moment was something Don never took for granted.
He turned to find April waiting for him at the garden gates. She was tall and beautiful in a pale green gown that brushed the grass at her feet, and confident in her right to be where she stood.
Humans were not a common sight in the empire, most having moved into the terrapin kingdoms as inexpensive labor, scrimping out an existence with other immigrants of varying species. April was luckier than most however, by being the daughter of his mother's favorite handmaid, and because Donatello had no brothers or sisters, the queen happily indulged his friendship with her handmaid's child. The two were brought up together almost as if they were siblings.
After his mother's death, Don made sure that April and her mother were allowed to remain with him in the castle, unable to face his grief or his future without his best friend. He didn't know how he would have made it through his childhood without April, so it was only natural when he came of age that he chose the human girl with the flaming red hair as his closest advisor.
His nobility had momentarily resisted her appointment, no kingdom in the empire had ever assigned a human to the position of royal advisor before, but Donatello put his foot down on the matter and the objections died out quickly. April had always been liked and her warm and clever personality, along with her obvious close friendship with Don, won the naysayers over quickly and completely.
As he approached, she looked past him to watch the old king for a moment. "He seems happy today."
Don released a sad sigh and looked back. "Yes."
"What did he say?"
"I don't know." Don replied. "Something about petals in the mist. Just his usual gibberish."
April nodded, smiling sadly for only a moment before shaking her head to banish the mood. She raised her hand to brush her fingers lightly along the purple fabric resting against his face. "How does it feel being yourself again?"
"Feels good. I only wish my real life could be as simple as it was when I was no one important." He answered wistfully.
"But whatever would you do with yourself if you were no one important?"
"Are you kidding?" Don laughed. "So many things. Think of all the time I would have for study and all of my half-finished projects. This place is falling apart around us, and I could change so much if I only had the time."
He made a wide gesture at the castle that was his ancestral home as they walked inside. Built from granite blocks quarried from the mountains that marked part of the border between Varuna and Aeolus, the building was a magnificent feat of architecture.
Don's complaint was only half hearted though, the structure was antiquated and romantic, with thick moss and ivy growing over almost every inch of stone that saw the sunlight, and even though he sometimes bemoaned the upkeep its gothic towers were comforting in a way only home could be and he truly felt there was no grander structure anywhere in the empire.
April bumped against his arm as they moved deeper into the castle. "Everything is being prepared for you to leave at midday and, if you have a moment, I have a small stack of very exciting papers that need your signature."
"Great." Rolling his eyes Donatello took her arm and threaded it through his, turning them down a side hall that led to the throne room.
"Oh, I suppose I should warn you. High Priest Adva has been looking for you this morning."
Don groaned, quickly looking up and down the hallway for any sign that the priest might be lying in wait. "I know what he wants, and that is the one thing I will not be thinking about until after the trials."
"It's like he's possessed, I've never seen him so focused." April warned. "And you being gone for so long has only added fuel to his obsession. He insists you must choose a bride before the trials begin."
"And I insist I will not!" Don said with frustration. "I won't just choose some random noble girl to marry. It's not fair to her, and it's not fair to me."
April gave his arm a soothing pat. "Of course, I agree with you, Donnie. I just thought you should know to be on the lookout for him. At breakfast this morning he proclaimed that he would not let you leave today without witnessing you make a choice."
"Well, he is going to be very disappointed then." Don grumbled.
The priest had spent the better part of the last two years aggressively trying to push Don into marriage, bringing every young noble girl in the kingdom before him, expecting him to just pick one as easily as he might pick his clothes for the day.
Don had refused them all because it didn't seem like such an unreasonable request to want to get to know someone, maybe even grow close to someone, before choosing to spend the rest of his life bound to them.
They entered the throne room; a long, grand hall with towering columns and a wall of stained glass in a hundred different shades of blue and purple, depicting raindrops and rivers and mountain lakes and the shining sea, that bathed the room in diffused, cool light.
At the far end was a six stepped dais, holding two thrones for the king and queen, made from ancient oak harvested from the forests surrounding the castle and carved to resemble crashing ocean waves offering an impressive representation of the power the royal family was honored to wield.
But the two didn't stop to give the display a second glance, moving to the back corner and slipping through a small door partially hidden behind a tapestry. It led to a moderately sized room that Don had turned into a personal space for himself with a small library, a few couches and a desk.
"Maybe we should just tell him that you plan to marry me," April continued with a sly grin as she shut the door behind her. "It would be quite entertaining to watch his head pop off and roll out of the room."
Don stared at her wide eyed for a second before they both snorted with laughter.
They took a few moments to enjoy the mental image of the high priest stumbling around without his head, but soon April leveled him with a serious look. "You do need to do something about it soon though. You're expected to produce an heir within the year."
"I know, I know. I just... have so many other priorities right now." Don replied, gesturing broadly at the desktop covered with official paperwork.
"Yes, yes, I know." April said, motioning for him to sit and Don was thankful that she seemed to be dropping the matter.
She pulled a stack of papers from the corner of the desk toward her and handed the top one to Don. "This is from the Fisher's Union. They are requesting an extra unit of guards be stationed at the docks after nightfall."
"Why?" Don asked, quickly reading the request.
"Well, they won't exactly say, you know how tight knit they are." April replied, shaking her head. "But I've been hearing whispers from the staff that the union is struggling to fill orders from the royal kitchens. From what I can gather, they place their daily catch in the cold houses at the end of the day and in the morning half of it is gone. Especially the shark fins..." She finished with emphasis.
Don frowned. "That's concerning... they can have the guard of course, but I want Tiabora to go down there this afternoon and open an investigation. Do we still have that contact from the...?"
"Yes, and I've already asked. He says the items have been showing up on the black market for a couple of weeks now."
He signed the paper, handing it back to April with a grimace. "We need to get this under control before the trials start. I will not allow them to take advantage of good people simply because most of them haven't seen beyond the borders of this kingdom in twenty-five years."
The black market had been a major problem within Varuna in the years after the borders closed with one particular group of unscrupulous lowlifes using the opportunity to squeeze every last copper out of the poor public that was desperately trying to adjust to their new way of life.
When Don was finally old enough to understand how his people were struggling to make ends meet, he quickly put a stop to the price gouging, but he chose to not shut down the black market completely.
The citizens of Varuna had grown too dependent on it as the only way they could get their hands on some of the more obscure items that came from the other kingdoms. So instead, he quietly assigned one of his most trusted nobles to manage the day-to-day operations of the market while keeping its existence a well-known but unspoken secret.
"Majesty? ... are you in here?" A soft knock on the door preceded the voice and a small, uniformed turtle entered the room.
"Yes, Tiabora, what is it?" Don answered, not looking up from signing the final paper April had handed him.
The captain of Donatello's royal guard came fully into the room, standing at attention before his desk. She was young, only a year older than Don, but he couldn't imagine anyone more qualified to command his fleet.
"Word from along the border sir." She began with a high pitched but strong voice. "My men report an increase in traffic they've had to turn back at the crossings. More than just traders hoping to slip past them now. There are lines that stretch for a mile and I have no idea what they think they're doing. Sightseeing, or… I don't know. My men are trying to find out why they're suddenly coming in droves like they think the border is open again."
"Well, I'm sure they..." Don started to answer but the young captain continued to speak like she hadn't heard him at all.
"And there are whispers from down by the docks about a scheme being run through the black market. It seems that the Indigo Guild may be trying to take back their foothold, which is ridiculous because soon the borders will be reopened anyway, right? We won't even need the market for much longer."
"Yes, we were just talking about..."
"Also, there's a small problem with the marsh workers. I know you've said you're done with them, and I agree, it's completely unreasonable for them to behave like this, but they're getting strangely aggressive and I just don't know if my men can continue to keep them occupied."
"I understand, but I really don't have the time to..."
"You should know as well that Master Gursel stops by every morning asking about the scheduling for your sitting. He seems a bit crushed that he wasn't able to start work on your portrait sooner and says there's no hope for it to be ready by the coronation, but he insists if you go to him immediately after the trials are over, he can have it completed by..."
"Tiabora!" Donatello said forcefully, rising to his feet to get her attention. She immediately straightened, her mouth snapping shut, and Don swallowed his guilt. Tiabora was all energy and drive and enthusiastic determination. It made her an excellent captain, but exhausting company.
"Thank you." He continued with a softer tone. "You know how much I appreciate your diligence but I'm afraid I just don't have the time to deal with these things right now. I have to get ready to leave and I..."
"Oh! That's why I came in here!" Tiabora almost shouted. "Adva is coming this way."
"What?!" April squeaked, spinning on her heels to look at the door.
"Yes, sorry!" The captain said sheepishly to Donatello. "I saw him stalking off toward the greenhouses shouting your name, and when he doesn't find you there, I suspect he will come directly here."
Don groaned with frustration and April quickly crossed the room to the bookshelves, pulling on the third book from the left on the second shelf and stepping back as a small panel swung open revealing a dark passageway.
A cool breeze escaped out of the secret opening and Don took a step toward it just as they all heard the growling deep voice of the high priest bellowing Donatello's name from the throne room.
"Tiabora," Don breathed. "I don't deserve you, and I don't know what I would do without you."
"Oh, don't be silly." She said with an embarrassed wave. "Go on, quick! I'll distract him... somehow."
Don and April didn't wait to watch her slip back through the door into the throne room. They entered the dark passage and April pulled the bookshelf closed behind them, swiftly moving forward through complete blackness. Thankfully, the passage was short and all they needed to do was trail their hands along the walls to keep their bearings.
Within a couple of minutes, they reached the end, listening closely at a second secret door for a moment, before slowly opening it and peeking into the hall beyond. It was empty and silent except for the soft chirping of birds just outside the windows.
"Well, that was close." April laughed as the door sealed shut behind them, concealed behind a ten-foot-tall portrait of one of Don's ancestors.
"This worked out well though." Don answered as he looked around. "I had already planned on coming down this way today."
April looked at him quizzically, but Don didn't elaborate. He just offered her his arm again and began walking.
He led them into a rarely used area of the castle where the carpets were a little more thread bare, the windowsills dusty and dull. April didn't question his path, suspecting that this was about more than just trying to avoid the high priest.
Sunlight glinted through the stained-glass windows lining the hall, shining on the walls with every color of the rainbow, making a natural tapestry on the time worn stone. The silence was thick here, the halls empty of the normal bustle of servants and tradesmen that could be found in the rest of the castle.
There was no sign of surprise on April's face when Don stopped in front of a pair of large mahogany double doors, the wood carved into images of towering waves and flowing streams, the once lustrous silver handles tarnished with age.
"The king's study?" She asked, but it wasn't really a question, she knew why he had brought them to this room.
"It's the only place I haven't looked. And this is my last chance." He answered solemnly, eyes locked on the doors. "If it isn't here... then it isn't anywhere."
April took a step back, watching his face but making no move to stop him as he pulled a small silver key from his pocket. The click of the lock echoed in the quiet space.
The door stuck a bit, and Don had to put his full weight behind a shove to get it open, the hinges creaking as they swung inward. They both held their breath as they stepped inside.
Not a soul had been inside this room in probably fifteen years and it was preserved like a moment in time. Donatello moved slowly into the space, the carpet plush and soft under his feet. Books taken from the tall shelves on either side of the room had been left scattered on side tables and chairs, ready to be picked up to read again where they had been left off. The far end of the room was filled by a commanding desk of pine and oak, papers and correspondence left unfinished where they had been lain, waiting for the king to return.
An immense sadness overcame Don as he looked about the room. He could almost envision what his father might look like sitting in the wing backed chair, hands folded on the wood in front of him, or reclining on one of the plush couches, a book open in his hands. The ghosts of what might have been mocked him in the cheerful light streaming through the large windows on the back wall.
April was quiet as she padded up to the desk, her fingers gently brushing over a gilded clock on its edge, its hands long since stopped ticking. She turned to him with concern in her eyes.
"Are you sure?" She asked. "You may not like what you find."
Don drew himself up with determination. "Doesn't matter. I have to know."
He turned, spotting two large basins atop stone pillars on either side of the doors they had just passed through, filled with fresh clear water. The castle was fed by an aqueduct system of pipes, installed centuries ago to provide water to every room for the use of the royal family.
Don strode to one and looked down into the shallow bowl. With only a moment's pause he reached his hand out over the pool and with a practiced flick of his fingers, drew a small orb of water up to hover over his hand.
Moving to the center of the room with the sphere, he brought his arms up in front of his body, both hands carefully moving the water, stretching and pulling it until the liquid was a flat rectangle hovering before him, like a window.
He held it steady as he moved in a slow circle, watching closely for the slightest change on its gently wavering surface.
Nothing happened as he passed over the desk, looking through it to see April against a far wall, respectfully moved out of his way. He took his time, carefully scanning each section of the room, not wanting to risk missing even the slightest flicker. By the time he had made an almost full circuit of the space with no difference to be seen, his breath was faltering, and he fought against a heavy wave of disappointment that threatened to wash over him.
Just as he was ready to accept that there was maybe nothing to be seen, he passed over one of the larger couches and his heart stopped. He jerked to a sudden halt as the surface of the water rippled between his palms, figures forming in the glassy window. There was no color, they were formed of the water itself, flowing and clear, but recognizable to Don's trained eye.
The water showed him an injured turtle lying on the couch, Don knew his father's face even if it was twenty-five years younger and half covered with thick bandages wrapped around his temple.
The stump of Archus's leg was lifted on a pillow, also wrapped in heavy plain cloth, his thick wooden crutch lying on the floor, under the feet of the figure of Donatello's grandfather, perched on the side of the couch as he clutched his son's hand in his.
Don's breath caught in his throat. His grandfather, King Torlan, who had died of the same fever that had taken his mother, looked tall and strong as he sat by his son, just as Don remembered him to be. He was momentarily overcome by an intense longing, the thoughts of what might have been different had the former king not died so young, filling Don with such aching remorse that he almost dropped the water he held.
Don took a deep breath and steadied his arms as the sound of voices drifted to his ears, muffled like a gurgling brook. This would be the only time the water would deign to show him this echo, this moment in time, and he stood completely stiff and still, listening carefully.
~*~.~*~
"My son, how are you feeling today?"
"I'm fine father." Archus answered in a huff. "I wish everyone would stop coddling me like a youngling."
"We only wish for you to return to health as quickly as possible. If you aren't careful you could cause more injury."
"Yes, I know." Came the short, impatient reply. "Can I at least sit up? I've been lying flat on my shell for a month now."
The former king chuckled and helped his son into a more comfortable position. When he was settled, they sat and looked at each other for a quiet moment.
Finally, Torlan gave his son an affectionate smile. "I saw Dalora today. She is looking beautiful and rounder with each passing second. I believe she will soon give you a strong, healthy son."
Archus didn't answer, he only winced like he was in pain and looked away sharply.
"What is it, my son? What troubles you? Are you not excited for the birth of your child?"
"Yes, I just..." Archus began, stopping for a moment with a deep frown, like he couldn't find the words he needed. "I only... I need to protect them."
"Protect them?" Torlan asked with confusion. "Protect them from what?"
"I don't... I don't know." Archus answered, releasing a frustrated breath.
Another silent pause followed his pained response. Torlan clenched and unclenched his fist as he struggled to understand his son's cryptic words, finally settling on a heavy sigh when he could not.
"Archus, I must confess, I asked to see you in here today for a greater reason than the simple pleasure of your company. I do not wish to cause you more discomfort, but we must talk about what happened that day."
Don watched his father grimace and look away again, an intense pain flashing across his features as he sniffed and looked down at his hands. "I remember a few flashes, bits and pieces of memory, but they're jumbled and broken. When I try to recall what happened I... I feel..."
Archus's voice drifted, Donatello's grandfather waiting patiently, nodding his encouragement. After a moment he continued in a quiet voice that Don strained to hear.
"We were crossing the Bridge of Ascendancy. Kaimon and Theonis had gone on ahead to scout the far side. I was moving slowly, careful of the gaps in the planking. The fog was so thick I could barely see my own feet. Then..." He paused and shook his head with a frown.
"It's alright. Take your time."
Archus folded his hands in his lap to hide the shaking that was starting to course through him.
"I can't... I see flashes of things in my dreams, but when I wake, they fade into nothing... there's only a feeling of... emptiness left behind. I hear a voice whispering in my ear broken words, but none of it makes any sense and when I try to hold onto them, they slip away. I can see the bridge, and then there's only a weightless nothing, like I'm floating in a bottomless pool..."
Don's grandfather sighed and hung his head, emotion and confusion weighing down his words. "When the others arrived at the temple without you, I immediately sent out a search party. They found you on the canyon floor a mile downstream from the bridge. You were barely alive."
"I failed you, father..." Archus said in a choked whisper.
"No! No, my son. Do not think for a second..."
~*~.~*~
The image in the water began to fade, the voices drifting away. Donatello took a staggering step forward with a low gasp, desperate to hold onto them for just a moment more, but there was nothing he could do to preserve them. There never was. The figures in the water disappeared back into the echoes and Don let the water drop from his hands to splash on the carpet at his feet, leaving him staring at an empty couch covered in nothing but dust.
At some point he became aware of April beside him, her hand on his elbow. He turned to her, blinking away the moisture in his eyes, taking strength from her smile.
"Are you alright?" She asked gently.
Don nodded, swallowing with a shudder. He looked around the room, the dusty memories within it cloying in his throat, and he felt suffocated. With a sudden jerk he spun and strode through the heavy doors, desperate to be anywhere but there. April rushed after him, sealing the room behind her.
When he finally felt the weight of the past lift from his shoulders and was able to breathe again, he found himself in a small courtyard just off of the dining hall usually reserved for smoking and after dinner drinks during official state dinners. The vines trailing down the stone walls were overgrown now, seeing as there hadn't been any state dinners held in Varuna during Donatello's lifetime. He made a mental note to have the gardeners come out and make the space presentable again.
April was sitting on the edge of the fountain in the center of the yard. An oversized Sandy Marlin carved from marble was arching atop a splashing wave with a stream of water pouring from its mouth into the basin below, filling the area with a pleasant gurgle.
Donatello looked at it like all the answers he sought could be found where the water splashed into the pool at its base.
"Those bandages..." April began after a long moment of silence. "A head injury..."
But she didn't finish the thought; she didn't need to. Don knew what she was hinting at and it already explained so much.
Donatello was never told much about the person his father had been before he was born or why he had suddenly changed so drastically. Rationally he knew that the adults in his life wanted to protect him from truths he was too young to understand, but for many years he was resentful that they were never honest with him, knowing that the answers to so many of the mysteries in his life died with the only ones who could reveal them.
He had been ten years old when the plague that took his mother and grandfather swept through the kingdom, killing just over two hundred before it was done. Archus was still mostly lucid then, his growing paranoia and strange behaviors well hidden from Don. But losing both his wife and father marked a turning point and after their deaths everything began to fall apart.
The king's decline left the kingdom vulnerable and it was many years still before Donatello was grown enough to take on most of the abandoned royal responsibilities. Until that point his advisors and priests were always far too busy trying to hold Varuna together to answer Don's questions, and afterward Don was too busy with his own duties to continue asking.
What he'd seen in the water was only a bit, a fragment of information and he had hoped there would have been more. He'd searched the entire castle, looked at the echoes in every room, this was the only time he had been shown his father or his grandfather, it must have been the only time they had ever spoken of the day that changed so much.
A soft, musical twittering came from behind April, barely audible over the splashing of the water and Don turned to look just as a Sindifay poked its tiny head above the surface of the pool.
The creature slipped out of the water continuing its song of gentle clicks and chirps, crossing the space between them to flutter down and perch on his shoulder. The fay looked at him raptly, its wings dripping with slow flutters; its clear, fluid body sparkling in the sunlight.
Don smiled at the small thing, raising his hand to stroke the fay's crystalline cheek, whispering fondly. "Thank you, my friend."
"Donnie? Talk to me. What are you thinking?" April asked.
"I need... more information." He mused. "What happened to him? How did he obtain those injuries?" Don frowned as he started to pace, the sprite chirping as it was jostled. "Something happened out in those woods that changed the entire course of my life before I was even born, and I need to uncover the truth of it."
The echo hadn't been enough, but it had served to cement Donatello's resolve. Now his only goal was to discover what happened to his father on that fateful day.
"It was most likely an accident." April said carefully. "There may be little to discover. Are you prepared for that?"
Don stopped and looked at her. Ever the rational mind when Don started to sink too far into his thoughts.
"Maybe... but then why would he have exiled us here behind closed borders? And why would the others, Apelles and Kaimon and Theonis, why would they have allowed it without challenge." Don gestured a little too frantically with his arms as he started to pace again. "They were supposed to be his friends, but they never once spoke out against it, never came here to find out what was wrong. They just let it happen."
"There could be a thousand reasons why they stayed away... but I will admit, it is suspicious." April assured, standing to place a steadying hand on his arm. The Sindifay twittered a soft song meant to soothe his rattled mind. "Just... try to keep an open mind. If you focus too much on one thing you may miss an important detail about something else."
Don took a deep breath, looking at her a little sheepishly. "You're right, I know. Thank you. I know I sometimes have blinders on when it comes to him."
"That's not such a bad thing. Just promise me you're going to be careful."
"Of course." Don smiled, pulling her into a tight hug.
The fay on his shoulder suddenly trilled excitedly, sensing the lift in their spirits. It shot into the air, flying in a wide circle around their heads and splashing their faces with tiny drops of water. They both laughed as it happily gave one last chirp and flipped back into the fountain, disappearing into the rippling pool.
"That thing would ride around on your shoulder everywhere if it could." April chuckled, wiping the moisture from her cheek.
It was true and Donatello wouldn't have it any other way. That one particular Sindifay had taken a special liking to him when he was very small and ever since, whenever he was near any sufficiently steady source of water the sprite would appear, his tiny magical companion.
During his travels through the other kingdoms, it had shown up a handful of times, through whatever means it used to travel such long distances, checking in on him to make sure he was well.
Why it had chosen him, and how it managed to always know where he was, was a mystery only it could answer, but strangely enough Don never really felt like he needed to know the reasons for its intentions, even though finding the answers to many of life's other mysteries was a constant obsession for him. When it came to his stalwart friend, he was simply happy to have its company.
He stayed near the fountain with April for a short while longer, speaking softly, but soon they parted so Don could see to a few last-minute duties that required his attention.
Amazingly, he was somehow able to completely avoid High Priest Adva, a small win for the day if nothing else. He was even able to get in an hour of training with his weapons master, thankful to work out some of the rust from his joints before his journey began.
But far too quickly the sun climbed to its highest point in the sky and Donatello found himself in the castle's main courtyard, mounting his steadfast mare once more while Tiabora chattered at him about the contents of his saddle bags from the ground in her enthusiastic excitable speech.
April came forward, waving her away affectionately as she handed Don an extra blanket with an indulgent smile. "We have everything here well in hand and we will see you at the temple. Go. Be amazing. And bring us back a victory."
Don chuckled, securing the blanket to the front of his saddle. "I will."
He took a moment to look up at the reception balcony, high above the main doors that led into the castle. His father was standing there with his guard, looking up into the sky, seemingly unaware of where he was or of Donatello below him.
Beside him however was the rigid form of the high priest, glowering down at him with a face so red and a look so seething Don was surprised the priest hadn't burst into flame. He offered an apologetic shrug that he hoped looked at least somewhat sincere, but Adva only sneered, spinning and storming off back into the castle with barely contained rage.
Donatello didn't feel the least bit sorry about it.
His eyes lingered on his father for a long moment as the old king continued to blissfully gaze up into the clouds.
April's face grew sober as her hand came to rest on his knee. "Don't worry about him. I'll keep him safe."
Don looked down at her with gratitude. "I always worry about him."
She stepped back to join the other members of his court gathered to wish him farewell. As he guided his mare through the castle gates Don looked back, realizing that the next time he passed through them he would be a crowned king. There would be no more secrets, nothing left to hide. The fog that had always obscured his future was clearing before his very eyes and he was as ready as he could possibly be.
A nervousness simmered just under his skin, anticipation bubbling to the surface as he rode on leaving his home behind him for the second time. Memories of three separate stolen moments, unexpected and electrifying flashed behind his eyes and with an energizing flutter in his belly he remembered that they would be waiting for him at the end of this road.
In just a few short days he would be seeing them again, for the first time.
~*~ EotW ~*~
