It felt like Ranni had rested for only a moment before golden light shone through her chamber windows in full force. Every inch of her body ached with exhaustion. Rykard had not only asked her to rise in the middle of the night to meet him at the academy, he had chosen her as his riding companion all the way to Stormveil Castle through the night, and had then requested her to spy on conspirators hiding in the bowels of the keep. She groggily yearned for her books left at the Rise on the Carian Royal Grounds.
In one monumental effort, Ranni pulled herself out of the plush Erdwood-carved bed. The room was much as she had found it the previous night. Well adorned with the luxuries of royalty yet not as gaudy as the golden styles Leyndell was so fond of these days. She had left her mud-spattered Lazuli Conspectus robes strewn across an embroidered rug featuring the Elden Ring but by morning they were neatly folded upon a nightstand.
That was the garb traditional to the Lunar Princesses of the Carian Family, Rennala herself wore robes of the richest blue. Ranni disliked the idea of servants rummaging through her room while she slept but put the notion from her mind.
A wash-basin stood ready for her in the corner. Ranni washed her face in the cold water and watched the dawn through the window. Her gaze fell to the basin where her red hair burned bright in the morning light.
Ranni's father, Radagon, had often studied himself just this way in the early mornings. Back then Ranni had been little more than a girl and Lord Godfrey had not yet been exiled from the Land's Between. She could remember her father's gaze so clearly, mother had always called him fierce for that look, but Ranni had always been frightened by the anger she saw within. Some days he would spend hours at a time staring at his own flaming hair.
She had spied on him often as a child. Something about that anger had fascinated her, it had been like creeping as close as possible to a roaring bonfire.
That was a long time ago though. Ranni dressed quickly and gathered her glintstone staff to make ready to leave. She expected that Rykard would want to set out to Caelum Village as soon as possible. It was surprising that her impatient brother had not already awoken her.
However, upon speaking with a servant, she discovered that Rykard had risen early to train in the castle's upper courtyard. Then he had given specific orders to let her sleep in. Now that half the morning was gone they could never escape Stormveil Castle without another social call to its all-too courteous lord. All she could do now was walk to the courtyard, her brother would want to know what she had seen last night.
"First he urges haste and now he lets the morning pass us by," Ranni grumbled to herself.
Stormveil Castle under the Erdtree's morning radiance truly became a marvel to the eye. The walls almost seemed to catch and enhance the light as it fell upon them and each section was manned by soldiers loyal to the Golden Lineage. Watchtowers gilded with gold soared even higher above the walls and it was into one of them that Ranni walked.
One lift ride later and she was in the courtyard. Rykard trained alone on the far side. This close to the inner keep he would not be easily disturbed by servants.
He wore his full set of platemail save for the red-plumed helmet, forged from the finest Erdsteel and enchanted with incantations of defense; it was a model set of armor for a royal knight of the Roundtable Hold. With it he wielded a claymore and greatshield although the greatshield had been laid aside with the helmet. The claymore slashed through the air with easy efficiency never losing momentum, Rykard's blonde hair flurrying in direction with his movements.
"Brother!" Ranni called out to him.
Rykard froze mid swing, his hair falling loose around his ears. With an easy movement he turned on his heel into a simple bow for familial royalty.
"Hey, Ranni. You're finally awake." Rykard planted his sword in the ground and strode over to her, "we crossed the border in one night."
"I'm still sore from the riding."
"You can only imagine how Torrent feels," Rykard jested.
"He has the luxury of being a spirit, I'm the one that has to deal with the aches in the morning," Ranni wanted the truth of the matter, "why have we not departed yet?" she asked.
"You needed the rest. And I needed time to clear my head. There has been a lot to think about since last night."
"We need to talk about that in private soon, there's much that I-" Ranni cut herself off as two knights strode across the yard.
Rykard nodded to their salutes before saying to Ranni, "Prince Godwyn visited me this morning to talk. There was much that he has explained to me, our duty is heightened when shared, when experienced together. He's invited us to break our fast with him within the hour."
"And you've accepted?" asked Ranni incredulously.
"Yes I have, and you'll be coming as well. If we are to mend the fracturing order of this land then we must unify both royal houses. Rennala cannot hold the Carian Family together on her own anymore and father has forgotten us. The future is in our hands, Ranni."
"Father has not forgotten us!"
Rykard seemed so much the outsider in that moment. Another blonde bastard of the Golden Lineage. Ranni cursed herself for having such traitorous thoughts towards her brother.
"He has been away for a long while, sister. Heed me now, take heart, the path may be arduous, but I will persevere for as long as my feet will carry me."
That was the regal dignity that Radagon often had summoned during his speeches. Her brother was so alike their father yet so different.
Rykard gathered his armaments and called a squire over to them, "take care of these and make ready with my mount for this afternoon. Keep him with Sir Engvall's steeds for the time being."
"And who is this Engvall?" Ranni asked.
"One of Godwyn's knights, he used to be the right-hand to Lord Godfrey himself, I've agreed to cross into Caelid with him and the knights of Stormveil."
Ranni gaped at her brother, "after everything you said last night!" she all but shouted at him.
"When Godwyn came to me this morning, he spoke the truth with no falsehood or slights. They know Lusat took the underground waterways to Sellia. They already know everything."
"How?" After last night, Ranni had suspected but to hear it in truth still filled her with dread. The Nox were supposed to be hidden from the Golden Order, but even last night they had been there with Queen Marika.
"I do not know, he is as impossible to read as the Erdtree itself."
"Then I may know the truth behind it, I will tell you soon."
"When we are out in the open again will be best. Allow me a moment with my armor," said Rykard.
While he doffed his armor within the armory, Ranni waited outside in the courtyard. Stormveil Castle made for a far-cry from the elegant Carian Manor but it kept its own beauty. Prince Godwyn maintained a garden of his own to match the ones she so often walked on the Carian royal grounds. She placidly ignored two staring handmaidens until they drifted off, and Rykard emerged soon after.
His cloak was a heavy mantle woven in black and gold as was traditional for the royal knights of the Roundtable Hold. Underneath was a rich tunic of purple bearing the Carian royal crest upon its breast. Even here in the most safeguarded domain of the Golden Order he kept a backblade sheathed at his hip.
"Let's get on with it then," Ranni complained.
She led the way down the stairs and across the castle's main plaza. Little grass grew among the beaten down dirt making it evident this yard's primary purpose was as a parade ground for the army. A chapel built into the western wall was empty save for a single Erdtree priest who painted idly. Her stomach rumbled traitorously at the scent of breakfast coming from the great hall.
Outside the door, Rykard offered his arm, and Ranni took it. They walked into the feasting hall together.
It was warm not just from the heat of cooking fires but the number of soldiers feasting too. Ranni noticed that it wasn't just soldiers and knights seated at the tables but almost every servant to Stormveil Castle and Godwyn's house by the look of them all. The lord himself sat at the high table with his most trusted friends and advisors.
A herald waiting at the door cleared his voice and loudly said, "announcing Praetor Rykard and the Lunar Princess Ranni to the great hall."
The hall greeted them both with silence, the crowd was uncertain and looked to their lord for guidance. Prince Godwyn sat serene and unknowable at the high table. He lounged in his high-backed chair gilded with gold yet made it seem noble to do so.
Finally he spoke, his voice was deeply sonorous as it rang out across the hall, "welcome friends from Liurnia, to Stormveil Castle. Come take a seat with me and partake of my hospitality."
He gestured towards the seat to his right usually reserved for honored guests. Rykard led the way down the length of the hall. Ranni's skin prickled under the collective gaze of so many soldiers. Her fears of secret hates bristling over the dining table were pushed away by the sight of Prince Godwyn smiling down at the both of them from the high table.
Godwyn stood up with a golden chalice in hand, "a toast to the royalty of Liurnia, now demigod step-children to our eternal queen, Marika. In the ancient days, as the Age of Plenty dwindled, our Elden Lord Radagon traveled to your lands as a simple champion, as back then he was little more than a warrior of the Golden Order. He traveled there with war and conquest in his heart, yet when he departed those lands an age later to return to the capital, he left with something more. It is said that my step-father, our Elden Lord, strives to make himself complete through the mastery of all magic, sorcery and incantation alike."
"Hear, hear!" came the cries of the hall, many of the soldiers raising their tankards aloft.
"It is said that in the past, the academy of Raya Lucaria obeyed laws that contravened those of the Golden Order," Godwyn continued, "yet our Queen Marika, in her wisdom, knew the order was pliable enough to absorb such practices into itself. I say that we too, emulate our leaders, as they are an example to us all, and so we all must strive to balance our own hearts. Let us welcome our royal siblings to my court, come take a seat at my table."
"Cheers! Long live Radagon! Long live Prince Godwyn!" cheered the soldiers of the hall.
Rykard took a goblet from a passing server and raised it for his own toast, "to the great, Prince Godwyn! A nobler man I have never met, a truer sword there is not, long may he reign here at Stormveil Castle."
More cheers from the men-at-arms erupted across the hall. Three knights stood up and gave their own toast to the honor of the Golden Order.
Ranni marveled at how easily the mood of the hall had changed. She watched the men and women under Godwyn's command rest easy at the sight of their lord's calmness. Even the great knights sitting at the high table seemed more at ease.
When they arrived at the high table, Godwyn rose to greet them. Today he clad himself elegantly as was appropriate to the heir of the Golden Lineage. His tunic was embroidered with the two crests of his father, the tree and beast. The prince had taken his own emblem as well, a dragon wing surrounded by gold lighting. He moved with casual grace, lithe and cat-like, yet showed an apparent strength.
Rykard clasped arms with his prince and greeted him warmly. The two men embraced, then separated.
Gone was the tension that had run through Ranni's brother the previous night once they had arrived at Stormveil's gates. She could sense a piece of it running deep in him, simmering and hidden, but Rykard was truly happy to be at his lord's side again. Ranni often forgot that Rykard had served as a royal knight in its true capacity during the days of Eochaid and the Mourning Lords. He had seen each and every battle under Godfrey's banner, fighting at the side of the old heroes of the Golden Order. That had been before the Long March of the Tarnished.
"I thank you, Prince Godwyn, for your hospitality. Good health and blessings of the moon upon you." Ranni smiled at this man who her brother could so openly love.
Prince Godwyn smiled back, "Welcome to my halls, daughter of the stars. Break your fast with us and please stay here as long as you wish. You need not go questing in the Caelid Wild. It is a dangerous land for a princess after all."
Ranni pursed her lips but Rykard spoke before she could, "If only that were possible, my lord. Yet I will need her expertise in the sorcerous arts in these times to come."
"We must all follow our duty," conceded Godwyn, "take care to watch over the princess, Rykard. That is my command as the son of your liege."
"The Sellian sorcerers get by well enough on their own in Caelid, and I could handle ten or more of them. I believe I'll make do in the wilds," Ranni boasted much to the delight of the feasting soldiers.
Perhaps Ranni's original training with the Carian Royal Knights had been forgotten by Rykard the same way she forgot her brother's history with the Roundtable Hold. But Ranni had learned the art of sword and staff the same as her mother had mastered, such was the way of all the Lunar Princesses. Even if such practices had fallen out of use in recent years.
"My mistake. The women of my homeland often become finger maidens to spread the teachings of our faith, they follow a gentler path. I forget that the women of Liurnia follow the secrets of the moon and stars," said Godwyn. "Go then, with my leave. May your path be gentle and the winds fair upon your back. But first, please sit and take your ease with us."
Godwyn pulled out the chair to the left of his own seat, a spot reserved for the lord's consort, "leaving it open is little more than a formality, I have not married in these long years and I would honor both my guests with a seat by my side."
When Ranni hesitated, he went on, "the time that I could've been Elden Lord, and you my queen, has long since passed. Have no worry over my intentions. Would that I could mend this fractured order with words alone."
Ranni took her seat at his side, Rykard sat in the seat of honor to his right. All around the high table were Godwyn's greatest knights and counselors, many of them recognizable from histories going back to the formation of the Golden Order itself. She could even see that they were not the only visitors to the castle. Scions of the Golden Lineage, many of them vassals of Godwyn within Limgrave, sat in visitation with their lord. Ranni studied the hall as it fell back into easy conversation.
She recognized Count Godbert of Agheel Lake with his blonde hair and golden cat crest. And there was Duke Godeheard of southern Liurnia who was rumored to be able to hear the voice of the Greater Will itself. Almost unrecognizable with how big he has grown was Godwyn's fourth son, Godefroy, the child grown to manhood was as tall as Ranni was now. Despite having never taken a wife, Prince Godwyn had not been shy with his liaisons, yet he gave each of his descendants a chance at his high table and their own children were seated throughout the hall. Hidden amongst them was a figure Ranni had not expected to see.
Little Godrick sat amongst his rowdier cousins and nephews at the far end of the high table. Easily overshadowed despite being a full-blooded child of Queen Marika herself. Born after the Age of Plenty, his growth had been stunted and he had never taken to swordplay as his brothers once had.
Locking eyes with him now, Ranni realized he had been watching her first. He drained his cup in one-go and averted his gaze. Now taking a keen interest in one of the chandeliers.
Beside her, Godwyn had already enthralled Rykard with conversation on the finer points of swordsmanship. The pair were locked in debate over the merits of fencing over raw strength when it came to direct combat. Ranni sighed and sank into the plush chair reserved for no one, it wasn't tea and biscuits at the Carian Manor, but one could appreciate the kind of breakfast Godwyn put on for his men at Stormveil.
As the hour idled, Ranni nibbled at the bread and cheese served to her. She had declined the ale in preparation for the journey to Caelid and the salted meat simply out of preference. Out of the corner of her eye, Ranni could still catch Godrick staring. By now he was looking red-faced from the growing collection of empty goblets in front of his plate.
While her brother spoke with Prince Godwyn, Ranni herself was entertained by two of Godwyn's council members, his steward and the archdeacon of Limgrave. The former was a thin man who would be forever aging for as long as the guidance of grace was extended to him, the latter dressed himself in priestly robes featuring a depiction of the Elden Ring.
They spoke of the realm; taxation of the peasants, religious tithes, the consistent scourge of demi-humans, and other dull affairs.
Their conversation had almost turned to white noise until the steward asked her, "and what do you think of the sorry state of trade lately, my lady?"
"Perhaps if the entire mercantile caste had not been decreed as heretics after the slander of one man, our roads would still thrive as they once did." Ranni sighed.
"Do you mean to say that our queen goddess was wrong in expunging such heresy from the order?" the archdeacon was quick to accuse, "The nomads of the Great Caravan were interrogated and known to be servants of the forbidden fire. Flame is anathema to the Erdtree as all of us well know."
"I simply mean to say that the order suffers from a wound it shall not recover from for quite some time. Who now will take up the mantle the caravan once did?" Ranni retorted.
"We of the nobility have taken lengths to restore what once was," said the steward, "we've made great strides in commerce between the plateau and Liurnia."
"What of Limgrave and the fringe lands beyond? My brother, General Radahn, has long suffered from supply shortages in Caelid."
"As the Fingers say, even should you falter, even should you fall, it is your purpose to fight for your duty," intoned the archdeacon, "The army of the Golden Order must stand ready against all threats, there can be no rest for the vigilant. Trial and tribulation through hardship will forge them anew as a crucible might strengthen a sword. That is why our wise Lord Radagon chose the Caelid Wild for the army's training ground."
"And as for the rest of the fringefolk, consider it a test of their faith from our goddess, a reminder of their place," laughed the steward, "perhaps that bumpkin born of House Shanehaight will save them all, the one that cavorts with demi-humans, what was his name again?"
A well-dressed knight from down the table supplied, "Lord Kenneth Haight, a sorry excuse for one born a member of the esteemed Shanehaights of the royal city, he does a disservice to their very name!"
"Lord Kenneth is a loyal servant to the church and is an ardent supporter of the order," said the archdeacon insufferably, "his tithes have increased thriceover since he began his communications with the demi-humans. It is not so inhumane after all, under the Erdtree, even commingling with demi-humans is possible."
"Incredible. The knights of the order will be able to speak with the demi-humans before they cut them down," said Ranni with a wry smile.
"Not if they choose service to our lord. None shall be left behind under the rule of true order, not even the vulgar,"
"You'll be able to put them to work just as you did with the Misbegotten," said Ranni.
"That's one class of beast that I'll admit scares me," said the steward, "demi-humans are little more than animals but the Misbegotten have a human-like intelligence to them, I feel the hate in their eyes while they watch me."
"As the fire of hatred once burned in the giant's eyes, the Misbegotten harbor a similar hatred within themselves. They are wretched creatures cursed for their contact with the Crucible in the early days." intoned the Archbishop.
"But the Crucible was the primordial form of the Erdtree, would they not be blessed twice-over for contact with such a holy force?" asked Ranni.
"You must not have met many Misbegotten then, my lady. A fortune, let me assure you, even to look upon such foul creatures is an ill fate. Their faces are misshapen despite the crude intelligence they're capable of, they're hideously strong, and each one of them hates us for the simple act of existing in a purer form than their own," said the steward.
"The Crucible contained the aspect of fire, my lady," said the archdeacon, "we cannot pretend to understand the will of the gods but we must follow their laws. Flame is anathema to the Erdtree."
"Yet core to its nature all the same," snapped Ranni.
"Heresy!"cried the archdeacon, "If you presume the flame to be such a blessing then how do you explain the accursed devolution of the Misbegotten?"
"If you knew your history, dear priest. Then you would understand that such devolution was a sign of divinity in the ancient days."
"We could argue theology all day if we wanted to but that will never bring balance back to the Golden Order," declared the steward, "what we need is good strong rule from an Elden Lord backed by all, if Prince Godwyn supports your father then I do too, my lady."
"The decisive action of Lord Godfrey, may fate guide him to a better death, allowed him to be undefeated as Lord of the Battlefield. His victories brought order to the Land's Between during the early days of the Erdtree. That is a power only born of absolute control, all must bow to the king after all. All must bow to the new Elden Lord, your father. And he in turn has used his crown to balance the order and remove its corruption. We acknowledge this here at Stormveil even if the naysayers continue to whisper of the cost." added the archdeacon.
For all Radagon's might, Ranni had only ever known him as her wise father. However, since he had taken the mantle of Elden Lord he had acted as little more than the heel of the Golden Order. His duty was to stamp out the heresy of the order. To that end, Lord Radagon had enacted inquisition after inquisition, even appointing his eldest son Rykard as grand inquisitor.
The power of the Elden Lord was little more than an extension of his goddess's power. What was a king if not one chosen by the divine right of gods to rule over man? What then was their duty, to humanity or to the gods?
Finally Ranni spoke, "on behalf of my family, I thank you for the loyalty to our lord. May the Golden Order shine through you."
The words felt bitter in her mouth.
The archdeacon nodded sagely while the steward responded, "of course my lady. The houses of gold and moon have always been allies. Why just last season-"
Before he could go on, a golden-haired youth sitting at the far end of the table slammed his tankard down and stood. Ranni did not know him but she could recognize Godwyn's regal features in his face. Within the youth's eyes glittered the guidance of grace with the most vivid of coloration.
"Go on then!" he cried, "repeat what you said about my mother to the hall so that I might call you out and have done with this farce."
Godrick stood too knocking aside the row of goblets in front of him, "I said she was a fool and a harlot! What a pretty face for her to mar with flame."
He chortled at some joke known only to himself and swayed before righting himself on a neighbor's shoulder.
"My mother was a woman of the highest honor! It was misery and strife that brought her to her end and I will not allow you to say another word against her name!" the youth put his hand on the hilt of a mastercrafted rapier.
"I had her many times over," Godrick said, "she took my silver just like all the others, seven times!"
The youth's blade was halfway out of its sheath before he froze under the commanding voice of Prince Godwyn.
"Halt!" he cried, "I will not tolerate bloodshed in my halls without first hearing the grievances of the parties. A man unable to act without purpose is little more than a base animal."
"My purpose is my own," grumbled Godrick.
The youth seemed ready to cut Godrick down there and now, but he sheathed his sword and bowed low to Godwyn.
"My apologies, father."
"Rise, Godbrant, blood of my blood. There is no need for such formality. I would address you both now, come to me."
The pair approached Godwyn from across the high table, where they awaited judgment. Godbrant remained perfectly still with a fencer's poise although his eyes now glittered with anger. Godrick swayed where he stood but seemed to be exactly where he wanted.
"Tell me all of what happened, Godbrant," commanded Godwyn.
"We at the knight's end of the table were speaking of the guidance of maidens when the Count of Callu made a crude remark about how he liked to receive his own guidance," began Godbrant, "when I pointed out to him that perhaps he should not wag his tongue about such ill-matters in the company of his betters he began to make comments about my own mother. I could never tolerate-"
"In the company of his betters!" Godrick cut him off, "as if he forgets that I am a true-blooded son of Queen Marika. A demigod!"
"Perhaps if you looked the part you ill-mannered-"
Godrick didn't let him finish, "see that sharp tongue of his! I'd wager it's as sharp as his blade but too bad his fool manners will get him into trouble before that sword ever sees combat.
"Let him finish," said Godwyn, "Godbrant, curb your tongue."
"The truth of the matter is that Godrick has spoken ill of all women. His remarks concerning the ladies of the night are ill-mannered, and I will not stand for his talk of my mother! I find it hard to believe a man as pathetic as this is royalty. How can you condone this, father?"
"He is as rigidly bound to the law as the Erdtree's roots are bound within the land," Godrick mocked, "I'm sure many in the great hall will find my side of the story to be more interesting. You see Sir Godbrant has just now insinuated that I am not of the Golden Lineage, a grave slander against my name. While one might forgive a single slight upon one's name, this man has made remarks against me all throughout the night, libel against me and my house! Will the men of Stormveil Castle stand against slander about the Golden Lineage? About our Queen Marika's sacred vows?"
The crowd in the hall was restless. Ranni could overhear angered whispers and see guards stand to alertness.
Godrick went on enjoying the attention, "Sir Godbrant threatens to call me out for speaking the truth about his whore mother. A sad truth about many the truth nonetheless. How dare he shift the accusation towards I, a son of the goddess herself! Should I be attacked for declaring the sky as blue or the Erdtree as perfect? Nay say I!"
A man from the crowd shouted, "sentence the slanderer!"
Another cried out, "none may tarnish the honor of the Golden Lineage!"
"Silence!" commanded Godwyn, "I will have order in my hall."
"I demand satisfaction!" Godbrant said.
"Even now he makes demands! Slander, insinuations, and demands of his own liege lord. Brother of mine, if you cannot see it, then I must say it. This man is nothing more than a heretic drunk on his own power! He believes him greater than the demigods that rule over him." Godrick spoke quickly, froth foaming at his lips, "you know the precedent for slander, death in exile! May his eyes be put out so he might never again see the light of grace!"
"Do not presume to command at the seat of my power, brother," said Godwyn, "not when you spread such misery among your lands that they attracted the Frenzied Flame, an ailment from which they shall never recover. It is by my will alone that you find a home here."
While Godrick quavered in fear, Godbrant spoke, "you see how he acts, father. We have tolerated him day after day. But he has no desire to train or sup with us, merely to drink and whore his days away."
Realizing his position was slipping away, Godrick spat out, "you would favor your bastard son over your own brother, your own house? You can have your dalliances, goddess knows I have my own, but they are ill-begotten progeny, unfit heirs to the Elden Throne. If I were Lord of Stormveil then I'd take as many wives as it took to ensure there was a trueborn heir. You fail in your duty every day you don't take a wife, brother! Don't fail me now with this slanderer, our house has seen enough disgrace."
"I have chosen this position through duty and through love, do not try my patience, Godrick," said Godwyn.
"Try your patience? You have the patience of a rock! Matched only by Fortissax, you two make quite the couple, why don't you marry him?" retorted Godrick, "oh don't look at me that way! It's an open secret back home in court. If we didn't figure it out before, then the time you refused Lansseax's embrace was a telling moment for us all!"
"For the love our mother has for the both of us, I ask that you remain silent," Godwyn was stone faced.
"You speak to me of mother's love when she has cast us so far from our ancestral home! So far are we from the Altus Plateau, from our home bathed in rays of gold, do not pretend that the queen even cares anymore."
When Godwyn rose from his seat, Godrick knew he had gone too far, Ranni watched his triumphant grin turn to dread. Godrick had to crane his neck from the height difference between the two brothers. Brilliant golden eyes glared down at the small man.
"You are allowed many luxuries, Godrick. But defamation of our queen is not one of them! And you, Godbrant," Godwyn turned his gaze to his son, "you have disgraced me at my own high table. Until I see fit to grant you redemption, you will dine among the soldiers."
Both men fell into silence.
"In the days of my father, Lord Godfrey, we settled the affairs of man before the light of the Erdtree, so the very gods might see our clash of wills." Godwyn went on, "I have not yet forgotten those days, even if others have. Sir Godbrant you will have your duel. Godrick may have his choice from among my own armory."
Godrick gulped and sank backwards until he pressed against the chest of a relation of his. Godefroy, another son of Godwyn's, gripped Godrick by the shoulder and held him steady until a squire arrived bearing four weapons.
While Godrick delayed in making his choice of armament. Godbrant walked down the steps to the hall proper where he could organize the soldiers into clearing the tables. Soon enough a ring was formed in which the pair could fight.
Ranni stole a glance at Rykard who watched with rapt attention. Godwyn's eyes flickered to her own in that moment and he betrayed a momentary sadness before reaffirming himself. He looked then to the nephew making ready to duel uncle.
Godbrant had drawn his rapier and was now making practice slashes through the air. It was clear he was a master fencer from the footwork alone. Godrick would never stand a chance.
Now the runty son of Marika was stepping into the ring wielding a battleaxe forged for a man twice his size. He swung the ornamental thing three times. With every practice swing the arc went wider until he lost the strength to keep it from falling to the ground. The flagstones cracked under the weight of the heavy, golden axe.
The soldiers laughed but Godbrant did not, he was focused on the fight now. All that separated his sword from Godrick's heart was the word of his lord father.
When Godrick had lifted his battle axe back up, Godwyn spoke, "begin."
Godrick charged while yelling, "for the Erdtree!"
His footsteps echoed across the hall as he swung hard at Godbrant with both hands but the younger man had already danced away. Godbrant then side-stepped his overhead slash. He tapped his uncle across the back of the knees with the flat of his blade to the amusement of the crowd.
With a cry of rage Godrick wildly slashed out in every direction. Even with his poor training, Godwyn's battleaxe cut through the air with wicked speed.
Godbrant fell back parrying what he could but against such a heavy axe, his rapier offered little protection. By the time his uncle's frenzy ended, Godbrant had taken a slash across his forearm.
Godrick bent over gasping for breath. He clutched at the battleaxe like it was a lifeline. Seeing him as easy prey, Godbrant closed in. It was just in time that Godrick blocked the first blow, and only by the Greater Will's guidance alone did he block the next three.
The older man riposted with horizontal slash but Godbrant stepped just out of reach. When Godrick attacked again, Godbrant dodged inside of his guard.
This time Godbrant riposted. His rapier darted forward three times, drawing blood with each blow.
Crying out in pain, Godrick fell backwards but Godbrant pressed the advantage.
The pair exchanged blow after deadly blow until finally they parted. Both scions of the Golden Lineage circled each other warily. Godrick's footsteps were slow and ponderous while Godbrant walked as if he had never even seen battle.
Finally Godrick let out a battle cry and lifted the axe high above his head. When he charged to bring it crashing down towards his nephew's head, Godbrant waited until the very last moment to step out of the way. He shoved Godrick off balance and while the older man stumbled, one slash across the thigh brought Godrick down to his knees.
"Do you yield?" asked Godbrant.
"Not to you, never to a bastard," said Godrick.
Godbrandt stabbed his uncle through the chest.
"I will outlast each and every one of you," Godrick gasped with his dying breath.
Blood burst from his mouth when he spoke. He collapsed backwards, hands clutching at the air, his form already turning to golden mist.
The hall was silent. Without speaking a word, Godwyn walked to the fighting ring. He gave a simple nod to his son, then stooped to retrieve his golden battleaxe from the pool of Godrick's blood.
"I announce Godbrant as victorious!" he shouted.
The soldiers of Stormveil Castle cheered in response to their lord. Godbrant sheathed his rapier and went to speak with his father. Ranni could not hear what they said.
She felt an ill-taste in her mouth.
Rykard approached her, "a gruesome spectacle. When kinsfolk must raise a blade against his own flesh and blood."
"Is it despite the grace of god that men act as beasts, or because of it?" Ranni asked her brother.
"Man will seek purpose from the bottom of his cups, the tip of his blade, from the word of the divine; in the end what matters are the actions you take. The code you hold yourself to. Barbarism and civility are two sides of the same coin, ruled by the same crown."
"But if that code is decided by man's destiny, by the transcendental hand of fate, then are the Two-Fingers as the hand of god hovering above? Commanding through the words of light given to us by the Greater Will."
"Perhaps it is true," Rykard admitted, "that man has no control, even over his own will."
The siblings lapsed into silence. Servants were already cleaning the bloodstains from the flagstones while more cleared the platters of the feast, as if nothing had even happened. Prince Godwyn had already taken his leave with Godbrant. Much of the great hall's crowd had followed suit.
By now the midday sun must have already reached its zenith. It was going to be a long journey to Caelum.
Thank you for reading!
Author's Notes: At some point I decided that Rykard's destination should be Caelum Village (in-game the Caelum Ruins) rather than the smouldering church as it seems more appropriate for the timeline. It also provides more options for storytelling. Also technically as far as crests go, Lord Godfrey also used the Hawk crest for himself but that is from his days as Horah Loux on top of the Tree and Beast emblems. From a historical standpoint, the idea of eating breakfast in the great hall as an assembly is somewhat uncommon. While dinner was almost always shared at a feast to encourage loyalty and for practicality when cooking, yet breakfast was generally served as a mix of porridge and bread available to servants/soldiers in the early morning, or was reserved to the elite alone. Since sharing breakfast was generally uncommon in any case, it would be done in private a. There is however a precedent for any of these people to eat in the great hall which would still see use during the day before feasting times, also for someone so wealthy as Godwyn a breakfast feast for guests is not an unthinkable act. I also like the idea that he is a chill guy that invites everyone within his house to breakfast despite the social stigma that Leyndell would put on such an act