Chapter 2: Despair
Prince Raynor walked out of the castle with a small retinue of guards and servants flocking behind him. He believed the term small was too generous to describe his parade. It was more like an army.
He sighed out loud, muttering to himself about how he missed the simple days of just marching around the city with naught but two of his elite soldiers; back in the days before he became a prince. He'd rather take them than the trail of loyal servants he had behind him.
"Milord?" Mordecai, his wisest adviser and one of his most trusted friends, asked. "Is something the matter?"
Raynor knew hiding it would prompt his friend to pry further, so he chose to be direct. "The number of bodies trailing behind bothers me," He said out loud, hoping his voice echoes back. "I only wish to traverse the streets of my city, not host a parade of some sort."
Mordecai laughed. "Is that what vexes you so?"
"Laugh all you want, old spirit," Raynor addressed his advisor by his nickname. After all, Mordecai was the recent advisor to his grandfather long ago; even to this day, he serves Raynor's family dutifully. "I miss the old days in the army."
"You mean the days when you laid siege to enemy cities?" His advisor asked, but his questions were laid with barbed intent. Any Prince's honor would've been insulted by such a thing, but Raynor knew it was Mordecai's way of being honest. It was brutal, but honest.
"No." He said after a moment after a moment of silence. "Perhaps not that…"
Mordecai only nodded before he resumed staring forward. He knew he crossed a line by voicing such words, but the family of Raynor have been good and honest to their servant, and they would expect the same courtesy from him. "My apologies, milord."
Raynor waved at him. "Please, there's no need. It's good that you're always honest, Mordecai. I ran out of friends to trust within…these walls."
As true as that was, the high elf servant never liked how self-deprecating his master had become lately. Petra has reported to him of such occurrence in the mornings that have passed. His prince had become somewhat dejected more recently ever since he was disconnected from his family, shunned and disrespected by the high councils of princes of Caledor, and hated by the very people he rules over.
Mordecai sighs quietly for his dear liege. Any louder and it would vex him more; it's best not to do so.
"By the way, old spirit," Raynor said suddenly. "The dragon rider this morning. . ."
"Ah you mean the daughters of Councilman Cor Nai?" He replied.
Raynor raised an eyebrow in surprise, but kept his gaze forward. "You mean the sorceress that recently joined the college of magic when I left for Lothern? Her?"
"Why yes, milord. Along with her little sister it seems. She took to studying dragons since, well, you destroyed the college of magic during your siege," Mordecai hesitantly said. "She was a newly appointed adept before the siege. Now she tries to find a way to entertain her hunger for knowledge."
"Such is the vigor of the young bloods." Raynor hummed.
"She is rather infamous as you, milord. Now that she has no outlet for her need to study, she has taken upon herself to study everything that might be related to magic. Nothing is sacred to her: Dragons are included."
Raynor laughed loudly, which spooked the guards and the servant far back. When he calmed, so did they.
"I did plan to rebuild the college, but Lothern and her king had given me strict instruction to prioritize other buildings that are more important for searching for the Way-Fragments." Raynor said lowly at the last part, and Mordecai nodded in approval for his lord's discretion.
This was how all of this mess started after all. Tyrion was given a mission to find the Way-Fragments on the island continent of Ulthuan; which somehow led to this mess: Another civil war within Ulthuan.
Caledor, as always, took the opportunity of the new war to attack their neighbors to expand their reach and Lothern was the closest. At the time, Prince Raynor was serving as a soldier within Tyrion's army. His loyalty was questioned when they discovered that he was originally from Caledor, but they set an ultimatum for him:
Conquer Caledor in the name of the Phoenix King, or watch it burn from behind the bars of his cage. If he accepted the former and succeeded, they would spare it since it proved that there was a shred of loyalty within the rebellious kingdom.
It wasn't Raynor's fault; Mordecai's prince was just someone caught in the crossfire. He felt pity for someone like him to bear such responsibility, but he felt proud for him, too. If only his family didn't send him off to Lothern to serve, then he wouldn't have been in this mess.
"Hmm, how welcoming." Raynor said, breaking Mordecai from his musings. Up ahead, they could see many of the common Asur folk glaring in the direction of the Prince and his entourage. It was safe to say that they were anything but welcoming.
"I can see my death being planned in the eyes of these people." Raynor joked, but Mordecai didn't laugh at all.
"Milord-"
"Calm yourself, Mordecai," Raynor spoke resolutely, his hands raised in a calming gesture. "Let them think dark thoughts of me. I am here to see how they fare, not to arrest disgruntled citizens."
His servant shook his head in disbelief. Here his prince was being hated for saving his people from utter demise, granted the method was not so popular, and he's being openly mocked and despised by the people; yet he makes time every morning to make sure they would fare well.
"I have come to a conclusion, sire." Mordecai said.
"Oh? And what would that be, old spirit."
"The trail of bodies behind us that vexes you will now be a permanent addition to your mornings."
Raynor pouted; that just wasn't bloody fair.
The Council of Caledor: One of the last agendas on Raynor's daily duties. Of course, it was his least favorite agendas in all of his life.
After making sure the renovation of and recovery of Caledor was underway, he then made his way to the Grand hall of the palace where all the Nobles of Caledor gathered to discuss important matters within the kingdom.
As Prince, he should be present in these meetings. Although, when he arrived, they'd already begun the meeting without him . . . again. It was a common courtesy for nobles to await the arrival of a Prince before starting a meeting.
"Ah! Milord." A Noble by the name of Vexxer Gray said in greeting. As if by a signal, all the councilmen and councilwoman stopped their discussion and glanced cautiously at the Prince.
"Vexxer. . . Councilmen and Councilwomen." He greeted, glancing at each expression of the council. "Sorry for being late, but I had matters to attend to in the lower district."
"The lower district?" Vexxer exclaimed in fake astonishment. "Again, milord? Surely you don't need to worry about such matters beneath your station."
'You? Walking among the commoners? A prince shouldn't even be involved with them.' is what Raynor could translate from his sugar-coated words.
"Furthermore, it would be better and punctual for you to join the meeting instead of wandering the streets." A councilwoman chuckled, whom Raynor couldn't remember her name.
The translation he could deduce from her tittering words were: 'Maybe you wouldn't be so late if you don't waste your time out there.'
Of course, like the common folk of his kingdom, Raynor's popularity within the high ranking nobles were very similar; They all despise him, that he could see, but they go about it with hidden insults and stiff smiles.
Tyrion, his commander that ordered him to take the kingdom, wanted to disband the nobles so Raynor can rule without any "Complications." Raynor was against the notion since it would mean disbanding his family as well. He wouldn't wish such a thing upon others that would affect his own family. Now he is starting to regret that decision and if he could take it all back, he would in a heartbeat.
"I know it's not really traditional for a Prince to be up and about the common homes without a good reason, unless we all should resort to calling concern over our people's wellbeing an unworthy reason?" Raynor carefully stated. He knew he wasn't well-versed with word-weaving like all the nobles do it to hide threats or insult in simple words, but he thought the one he delivered should get the point across.
And it did.
All the council members immediately began to stiffly look away, some having the courtesy to look away out of shame. Vexxer and the others just smiled a very strained smile. Raynor couldn't help but be worried if their face would break from that expression.
"Of course not, your majesty," Vexxer finally replied, bowing low. "One wouldn't dream of it."
Well, Raynor thought. Thank Asuryan that worked.
"It would be a good reason. Then again, this is what the council is meant for your majesty." Another spoke gruffly.
Raynor looked across the room and saw an elderly elf - if there ever was such a thing, what with the ageless physiology of elves - that looked more angry than an Ork that's sober. Of course, that was his normal look.
All the council members tensed but waited as the angry looking elf stood from his pew with a huff as he stared down the Prince.
"Things we do here today in this meeting hall are meant for those aforementioned people you so claimed to care for." He started harshly, and looked non-apologetic about it. " If that were the case, you should have been here early to get it over with before you prance about in the streets."
"Councilman Cor Nai," Mordecai, who had stood behind Raynor the entire time, spoke in a warning tone. "Perhaps you forget who you address here in the hall, but let me remind you that you speak to your Prince!"
"Mordecai, be at peace," Raynor said, his eyes staring straight at his old friend to convey his need for him to calm down. When Mordecai did calm down, he then returned his attention to Cor Nai. "You're right, Cor Nai. I appreciate your honesty and your suggestion on how to conduct myself properly. Forgive me if I had insulted you by being late."
Cor Nai only looked more stiff and grumpy as he was before, but the nod he gave Raynor meant he accepted the apology.
"But it couldn't be helped," Raynor continued. "After all, the dragon that flew over my castle this morning somewhat disturbed my morning. I wanted to make sure it didn't do any amount of damage to the city then I already did."
"You mean the dragon that Cor Nai's daughter rode? Oh, the shame." Vexxer chuckled out loud.
Everyone chuckled, Raynor didn't know at whose expense; either at himself or at the fact that everyone knew who was responsible for the dragon flying about in the first place.
Cor Nai pale skin turned red from embarrassment, whilst looking more angrier than before. "Ah, I see. Forgive me your majesty. I'll see to it my daughter gets harshly reprimanded for her action."
"There's no need. If anything, give my thanks to her." Raynor said. Then Cor Nai, and the council as well, were at a loss at what he had meant, but thought nothing more about it and bowed.
Raynor chuckled at the confusion but then drew his gaze among the council hoping to see at least a representative from his family. When he saw an empty pew that was meant for them, he sighed quietly at the fact his family were being distant even in these times for their shame of him.
He couldn't blame them. He'll leave them be for now.
Raynor finally took his seat and, again, began the council meeting. "Now, what's on the agenda for today?"
And, Raynor thought to himself. Let the fireworks begin.
Prince Raynor regretted many things in his life, but not as much as he regretted attending the meeting he had started.
"The people cannot handle the taxation at this time! The damage to the city is too costly for us to ask money from the common folk!" One of the councilwomen shouted.
Honestly, in Raynor's opinion, he was surprised they even started shouting. Asur nobles are too proud to be seen doing such behavior, but today must be the day that Orks fly.
He shuddered at the thought.
"The walls and tower are in need of repair! Without our defenses we will be at the mercy of the enemies outside! We need something to provide security to our people. Our defeat at the hands of Lothern's own dogs have made us look weak!"
That was really subtle there, Raynor thought bitterly. At least they still function enough to slip in insults directed at him or Lothern.
"And then the people would starve, what then?" Cor Nai bellowed as he stood. "What good are walls if our people would suffer behind them!"
"It's better than having the people be exposed to outside invaders that dared attack us. My scouts have reported sightings of undead creatures roaming our lands and dark vessels out in the open oceans. We cannot risk it!" Vexxer said aloud.
"There were sightings of other beings already within the walls! As well people going missing within the villages and the city. My soldiers investigated the aqueduct and the sewers-"
"More nonsense and poppycock! Don't go chasing monsters that are not there! We are here discussing the importance of food shortage and repairing the city!"
"Well, considering your weight, I would say you're siding with repairing the city since there's no food shortage where you're from."
And then all hell broke loose, as the Monkeigh says during a similar situation. Raynor needed to break the argument and have them focus on something else. He had an idea in mind, but the awkwardness was probably something he thought wasn't worth the effort.
"Let's put this discussion to rest," He then quickly added: "Cor Nai, have there been any new word from the Prince Imik and the dragon princes that went with him?"
Immediately, as one, every council member went silent. The tension in the air thickened as they all low-key glared at the current prince of Caledor.
After the fall of Caledor to Lothern, many, if not all, of the Dragon Princes joined Dragon Lord Imrik without so much as a word.
Cor Nai, believe it or not, was one among others that decided to stay behind despite their misgivings or in spite of it.
"No, milord," The councilman said, his usually angry face was cold and even. He looks guarded which actually relaxed the wrinkled lines on his face. "I have not heard from my brethren nor of the order. The only thing we know is the word that they'd sent last about making landfall somewhere in the South-Eastern continent of the Old World."
"Have you contacted our channels in the Bretonnian shores?" Raynor asked. "They might know something about Asur fleets crossing south."
"Those are Lothern channels, milord." Cor Nai said stiffly. "I'd assume they'd wouldn't be so free to give away such information to us of all people."
Raynor resisted a sigh. ". . . Have you asked?" He looked up and saw the hesitant expressions. "Lothern has made it clear that we have as much access to any assistance we can get from them, even for food supplies."
Immediately, all of them sneered.
"Caledor needs no help, milord." Vexxer said, crossing his arm as he looked away. "Especially from those who subdued our glorious kingdom."
"Agreed," Cor Nai stated, which was a shocking development. Cor Nai and Vexxer hate each other's guts, as much as they hate Raynor's. "We will deal with this ourselves. But of course the choice is up to you milord."
Well, at least they both in agreement. But there was still the dilemma...
"Milord, what are your choice on the matter?" Vexxer finally asked, causing all attentions turned toward Prince Raynor.
Raynor paused as he stewed the thoughts in his head. He wanted to focus his effort on rebuilding the town, but the tax would probably be harsh on the common folk. After all, Lothern was very thorough in their looting.
"... Have the masons and carpenters continue repairs on the walls and the city, we can't have our people live in a dangerous conditions," Half of the council were angry, others were just pacified. "As for the taxing the common folk, we won't be doing such things. We cannot afford to pay the repairs out of the pocket of our people; so instead we will have to pay for it ourselves."
All the Council members immediately knew where the conversation was going, and immediately burst into arguing against him. Raynor raised his hands and silenced them.
"We will have to pay from our own coffers, but if the pay is not enough we will have to resort asking for a loan from Lothern – I know you are all against what I say, but consider the situation we are in, and know that this is the best we can do so far that does not allow us to choose one over the other."
The Council room was silent. No counter-argument whatsoever. Raynor thought he'd never see the day that would happen.
"I'll take your silence as an agreement. Mordecai?"
"Yes, milord?" His advisor appeared from his corner.
"Have an ambassador be sent out in the following morn with our request for supplies and loan. I will write the necessary letters for it myself." His old friend nodded and wrote down the order. "Councilman Cor Nai?"
"Aye, milord?" The grumpy Asur grumbled.
"I wish for you to investigate the reports of probable invaders in the South."
"There are nothing there but cliffs facing the ocean, milord." A councilman said.
"That hasn't stopped our enemies before," That silenced the man before resuming his order towards Cor Nai. "Councilman..."
"I will take my finest riders with me, milord. I'll bring my regiment of Dragon Princes as well for safe measure." Cor Nai responded, nodding his head in agreement.
"Good." Raynor turned towards Vexxer. "Councilman Vexxer, you will conduct the investigation within our walls. With you at the helm, your bright mind can help crack the case about this mysterious occurrence."
Vexxer stiffly nodded, his smile strained on his face. "... Of course, milord."
"What of Lord Imrik? Should we resume contacting them?" One of the members asked.
"What is the point? They are over there, we're here."
"Be that as it may, but I cannot rest until we find the Dragon Lord and the Order that followed him. It is important that he and-" Raynor was then cut off as the council door slammed open. He glared at the intruder but shifted his expression to horror when he saw who they were. "No..."
Mages, high ranking wizards and sorceress walked in a formal column. Their presence immediately put everyone on edge, but none more so than Prince Raynor himself.
He dreaded this day would ever come, praying diligently that Caledor wouldn't be chosen. He stood from the throne and cautiously approached the hooded figures. One of them broke from the column and stood in front.
There was an awkward pause that preceded after. Prince Raynor swallowed his fear and tried to be courteous at least.
"G-greetings," He paused to reprimand himself for stuttering. "Greetings Archmage. I wasn't aware you would come, if I'd known I would have prepared for-"
The archmage waved her hand, cutting Raynor off a second time. Mordecai looked livid in the corner he was in, but thankfully he kept quiet. "You wouldn't know of my coming, but I trust you would know my reason for being here."
". . . I do." Raynor said, his expression dropped the happy façade. "It means that the ritual will take place here. . . in Caledor."
"Yes," The Archmage said. "It also means that Caledor will be one of the areas where it will be more likely to be attacked by others who'd want to disrupt it. . . I do hope you are prepared for the coming storm if that were the case."
If Raynor was honest, he wasn't.
And he was right. . .