Prologue II

RAEVSVAKT, LORDSHIP OF MERAHOLMER, KINGDOM OF SOUTHSWARD

Thordan muttered about how he despised stairs as he was trailing behind his companions.

In his defense, Alfyn and Egil were more athletic and trained in combat, while he was merely trained as a healer. Moreover, the two have not been locked in a tower for the past few days, thus giving them an advantage in mobility.

The stairway had been cleared of guards, and it was entirely devoid of corpses.

Egil's work, thought Thordan. If this was left to Alfyn Stalwart, this flight would be drenched crimson long before they would have saved me.

"I see someone." Alfyn said as softly as he could (which, admittedly still was not very soft). To Thordan's relief, Egil signalled him to stop as the taller lord peeked across the corner.

"Two Crestworth guards. They're rushing towards us!" Lord Stalwart prepared his sword. Seeing that he was still unarmed after his captivity, Egil tossed Bertil's spear to Thordan, and the two braced for a bloody encounter.

"Wait. They're not actually chasing us." Alfyn broke the silence. "They're fleeing from someone!" All three of them (even Thordan) knew that a demoralized foe is much more easily put to rout, and Alfyn knew exactly when to take action.

"Arnet!" Alfyn waved his sword out and struck. Though panicking and fleeing, the targeted guard still had the presence of mind to block his attack with his spear. Before the second guard could land a blow on the lord, his own sword was blocked by one of Egil's daggers. The weasel's left paw twisted around, slamming the hilt of his second dagger into the swordbearer's abdomen – enough to break his concentration. It only took an additional stab before the guard was no more. Egil headed to the lord's help – only to find him pulling his blade out from the guard's chest.

Thordan simply watched as the fight ended as quickly as it begun. Being trained as a healer meant that he had previous experience with blood and gore, but in battle… Why do my legs buckle up when beasts start killing each other? Swalestroms are supposed to be brave, for Fates' sake.

"Alfyn!" A voice from far away called. Thordan slipped out from his trance to see three beasts running toward them. An enemy would at least attempt to keep their approach a secret, so they must be allies.

Besides, who else but Denebas Burelas would wear a hat like that? The squirrel beside him must be his brother Altayras, and the otter next to them would be –

"Thordan!" cried Erlend Swalestrom. "Good to see that you're safe and sound!"

Erlend was clearly surprised at his son's newly liberated state. It was indeed a surprise, though one that was much welcome.

Oh. So he does care for me now. Actually helping me out for the previous three months would be a better idea. An even better idea would be not sending me away from home to accomplish a task well beyond my level, but who would have thought of that?

"Are you fine? Did they hurt you or something?" the father asked. Seeing Thordan's nonplussed expression, Erlend struggled to find the right words to his son. "I should not have sent you here. I apologize for my lack of foresight."

Altaryas and Denebas briefly focused their attention towards the father-son duo before turning back to Alfyn's vermin companion. Erlend may have warned them of dealing with Parman vermin for the first time, but they have not entirely unjustified cause to be worried. After all, vermin were all untrustworthy beasts, and Parman woodlanders are even worse than the vermin they knew. Who knew what schemes the weasel could conjure up?

"How about we stop the touchy-feely fluff, and actually get into dealing with the Crestworths here?" barked Alfyn.

Altaryas nodded. "King Garmund did not send us here to see you two talk. We should get moving."

"It could still be a trap," mused Egil. "Betraying Thordan so overtly could be some sort of ploy to bring all of Southsward's enemies together, and destroy them in one fell swoop." He pointed at Alfyn and the squirrel brothers. "You three may even charged headfirst into it!"

"A trap indeed, but one of our making," said Erlend. "Lord Canute Crestworth lacks the foresight to play a long game, and all the messages that the old fool sent were intercepted."

Thordan sighed in relief. "The Southard support that Lord Canute claimed should be false then." When he was trapped up in the tower, Lord Canute gloated and gloated for hours, and Thordan was actually starting to believe that Lord Becker had planned the whole thing. "He will be in for a surprise when the wrong Swalestrom comes crashing in, and-"

A couple of looks from Alfyn and Egil signified that he had said enough, and he shut his mouth with the same speed as he opened it. Some have said that he may resemble his father in looks, but in mannerism he is practically his grandfather.

With all talk over, the merged group progressed forward.

Isangrim was fighting for his life for the first time in seasons.

The lutrine guard swung his weapon at the fox, causing him to take a step backward, before striking the otter with his own quarterstaff. A short, powerful weapon was the best way to counter a spear, and without a sharp edge, Isangrim's quarterstaff was even more vulnerable.

The grizzled black fox quickly rolled out of the way of a second strike, right after the otter has just evaded his counter. The guard simply saw through his intentions, and stepped on the unfortunate vermin's tail, pinning him to the ground.

The fox howled in pain and dropped his staff as the otter swung to finish him off. Not being able to react in time, Isangrim braced himself for a strike - a strike that never came. Amazed, the fox opened his eyes to see another otter - one that he knew very well.

The two otters can be easily differentiated. The first distinction would be that the first had his grip around a mace while the second had no weapon but paws, claws and the gauntlets surrounding them. Another contrast would be that the first beast was a simple guardbeast while the second was the daughter of the very king of Parma.

The final and most important difference was that the latter was standing and the former was but a corpse, to be buried alongside with his past and passed comrades. There is little chance for survival if one's neck has been snapped from behind.

"I told you to get a better weapon than some staff." Lady Lorelei snapped. Females have scarce been trained for combat, even in tolerant Parma. But Thordan (her father, not her son) was adamant that his heir be raised like any Skyward that walked before him and her. He had discounted the possibility of fathering a son back when his daughter was in the cradle, and talk was rife that him or his Trielian wife was infertile - rumours the king had paid no attention to.

"Well, at least mine can reach more than my paws can reach!" Isangrim countered.

The black fox was one of nine beasts King Thordan could trust, and for good reason. Isangrim may let his heart rule over his mind, but his soul rules over his heart, and his loyalty to King Thordan ruled over his soul.

Lorelei was a female, and so cannot be seated on the Parman throne. She was simply not likely to be chosen, and if the unlikely did happen she would simply not be accepted, along with both her foreign-born sons. The most likely candidate would be Canute Crestworth – until now, anyways.

"Can you two not argue for a slight moment?" the elder Thordan barked. Being the king of the wealthiest of the Southern Realms, Thordan was not a force to be trifled with. Parma was a kingdom of many realms, and a realm of many kingdoms. Thordan may have been a king before he had learned to walk, but he was able to adapt to intrigue after intrigue, and he was able to outplay (not to mention outlive) his rivals. Lord Canute Crestworth may have ambitions on the Parman throne, but those designs have never amounted to anything yet. Now he would be stamped out, blown away like a leaf in the wind.

"Forgive me, Your Highness, but I recall that we were the ones doing the actual fighting." Isangrim countered. To talk back at a king was a serious offense, but Thordan needed him for his plans, in more ways than one.

"You're not as old as I am, fox." Thordan countered. He used to be called 'the Child' back in his native Garlesca, when he was just a babe in the care of conniving regents. Now, he was a grey-furred otter with an eyesight that was slowly declining with his advancing age.

Thordan may no longer be a child, or a teenage lordling like his namesake, but there had to be some sort of charisma underneath his eternal grin. Isangrim once overheard his other grandson say that he had the stupidest grin in all the Southern Realms, and his half-brother had to content himself with a very close second. The king reminded him not to disrespect his betters, though privately he was chuckling for days like some toddler.

"Lord Crestworth may have good cards indeed, but he played them too early," the king continued. "One can predict his plans well before they transpire, even without being-" Suddenly realising that their presence should be secret, the garrulous king was eager to silence himself.

"Our guards should be engaging the enemy on the lower levels. Crestworth knows not of our presence,"Lady Lorelei analysed. "Please, for the love of Great Seasons, remain silent. You should not have come here, father. My son is just the bait for us to land here, and we may have landed him in a danger greater than ever before. "

"Your husband does insist that the trap was his to spring." Isangrim reminded her. Lord Erlend was a timid beast, so him being outgoing confident was an occurrence as rare as a blue moon. Something, or perhaps someone, has changed him either for better or for worse.

The fox had met with the otter exactly once, when Lorelei was wedded to the lord. His brother put his lot in with the Jaysians, so something had to be done to put his plans to a sudden and immediate halt.

"Now would be a good time to take action," Thordan said as he burst from the room. He stopped for a moment and nodded, then turned to his daughter. "Erlend may be more of a worrier than warrior, and he can be insufferably boring at times, yes. But he is no fool and he's seldom wrong. I have foreseen that Crestworth would regret all of this - if he shall survive that long."

"I do indeed."

The trio turned to the other side of the corridor. Lord Canute Crestworth was never an imposing beast, but under his poorly exterior hides a passionate temperament, expertly masked by the experienced lord. His guards were another story, as was usual with guards.

"You seem rather poorly equipped for a king. Gates. You don't even have enough companions to form a host of adventurers," the lord continued. "Now, would you please move aside to let us make our escape? Preferably to the left. I don't want anyone damaging my possessions."

Thordan sneered. "Your possessions? Why couldn't you just be content just in a while? I am all too sure that the mighty Lord Crestworth has no need to covet all of three random islands." Both lord and king knew that this was but a figure of speech. Meraholmer was right at the median of Southsward and Parma, and a major node of trade betwixt Kaldos and Doma.

"Your Highness, you should have also considered the possibility that he doesn't want these islands, and merely wants to trade them off at the first opportunity." Canute countered.

The sound of pawsteps were heard, causing the otterlord to shudder and dispatch a further two guards downwards with a gesture, leaving five at his side. Either that or the yelling and screaming.

Thordan saw his chance. "You two are in league. You and Lord Becker Swalestrom - the elder brother. Which is why I simply cannot allow you to obtain the Parman throne. Nothing personal."

The yelling got louder and louder.

"Nothing personal? Well, I can tell you that nothing could be more personal than an act of old-fashioned regicide," Canute drew his sword.

Thordan sighed, while Isangrim and Lorelei stared at him with anger and disbelief respectively. "That would be treason, and we would not tolerate it!" the black fox declared indignantly. "You lords really make us vermin seem noble! Savour your breaths, for they are to be-"

Isangrim was never able to complete his lengthy battlecry as two grey squirrels rushed into the room, followed by three blood-stained otters and a weasel. He knew two of the otters, all right. Erlend Swalestrom was hard to mistake in that suit of armour, while young Thordan was the only beast that never seemed to fight, instead hiding at the back of everyone else. The squirrel with a spear ran through a guard, and his body clattered onto the floor, just alongside the remains of another guard which the sword-wielding otter cleaved messily in two.

A mouseguard hastily swung his sword at Erlend, which he managed to parry, and trap the blade within the hooks of his spear. Before long, he succumbed to the weasel's dagger, adding another corpse to the ground. The remaining two guards tried to escort their liege out of the door, but Lorelei put her footpaw down literally, tripping the hare and leaving him defenseless against the third otter's blade. Isangrim pounced at the lord, hoping to cut off the absconding lord, but was simply pushed aside by Lord Crestworth's last guardian. He swept at the mole's legs with his staff, but the mole simply leaped away from the staff - and right into Erlend's spear.

After being surprised from a winning situation, Lord Canute was indeed trapped. So he simply did what any trapped beast would do - fling himself at the nearest enemy, who in this case was Thordan Swalestrom. Caught by surprise, the young otter could do nothing as he was knocked down onto the ground.

By creating an opening amongst all the chaos, the lord would be able to flee as fast as an otter could (which admittedly was not very fast given his advanced age). The much younger squirrel gave chase, scrambling out of the room and attempted to reach the lord.

A pity the traitorous lord was counting on that.

He spun his rudder around, slamming it into the spear-wielding squirrel's stomach, then swung his blade at the helpless squirrel, who lifted his paws to block what he could, while knowing that it was futile.

Had his brother not defended Altaryas from that fatal blow, ensuing events would have been rewritten, for good or for ill. But the rapier picked up from one of his fallen guards was able to run through Lord Canute's wrist before the blade reached its target. With only a narrow wrist to stop the blade, neither squirrel nor otter were able to stop the blade from progressing further into the otterlord's body.

As blood spurted from the otter's torso onto the floor of the hallway, Denebas Burelas simply stood shocked with his mouth agape while his first kill toppled to the ground.

A/N: Hello! It's me speaking to you for the first time! I decided to pull a Jade TeaLeaf and communicate with you readers by Author Notes. (or Character Notes if the stories are narrated in first person) I originally wanted to wait until more of my chapters were ready before uploading the story, but some encouragement from a certain someone gave me the courage I needed to bring A Realm Reborn into the light of day. Reading Jade's The Blood Between Us is not necessary, but ARR serves as a prequel to TBBU, and those who have read TBBU will know what will happen next. (but not why and how) The next two chapters will be uploaded two weeks later, as I will be on a slight hiatus next week.

Did anyone get the The Chains that Bind Us reference at the beginning of last chapter? Speak up if you do!

Feel free to ask any questions on your reviews! Don't be shy!

And most importantly, stay tuned for Book I: Lords of the Whorl and its first chapter (Fracture) on 21/22 April!