Review Responses up here!
Grey: Yes, Thordan is being stupid. The barrel incident seemed to have dulled his nerves a bit. Becker is quite good for an uncle - the 'Evil Uncle' trope is a good one to subvert. Let us see if 'Evil Nephew' would be easier... Galen is Brink! I'm sorry about killing Garrion off - Jade is still canon, and things like that are inevitable. He did deserve better... Future Number One subverted! Pay attention, everyone! I want future theories to make sense! Arn is definitely one of my more interesting characters, and one of the best to write. I hope to leave him more room in the remaster and the sequels. Oh, and I would agree with you if you say that Skuli's family is the only non-dysfunctional one in ARR. You got that right, Grey! The tournaments are also a Jade thing. A fun parley to follow up what was before indeed.
Abe: Becker, a good uncle? Yes... I mean, he's the better uncle when compared to Erlend. Thordan becoming more cynical could happen, but you shouldn't know anything yet. ;) Like I said, Garrion may have to die, but one thing I had always did relatively poorly was Galen and Dirk's relationship. Considering how Jade wrote these two, they seem forced here. Arbert expecting the Narrator to talk back to him is one of my more comedic moments that are quite rare in ARR. I'm glad I painted Arn and Renart as characters you love to love and love to hate. Ellisiv is definitely a good friend. Of course, that doesn't meant hat Bellamy has to take her advice. She has her own path to walk, and everybeast can be wrong sometimes. The tournament. TBBU readers, if any, would know this...
Seb 40: Thordan being Thordan, he always chooses the option with the least amount of death. Unless it is useless, which this time it is not. As you know, Bodvar is one of those creatures you dont know whether to love or to hate, and I leave him to your brain. Old Thordan rising from the grave? Why would anyone think that? Not literally, no. Being careful not to add emotion when it is enough is a challenge to any author, so i hope I handled everything well. Bodvar... yes. Thordan was right to worry.
Keva 41: Yes! She can do that! I should have left hints, but she can! And yes, one would be Alfyn! The Crestworth brothers too, perhaps? Poor Egil indeed - but worrying is of no use. Let us see events unfold, shall we?
Seb 41: Oh, come on! Becker's a better uncle than we had bargained for. The question is not if Becker would do nasty stuff to Thordan, but... not telling. I could have written Galen and Dirk better, but I'm glad you and everyone else are satisfied. (You guys are so easy to please - I love you all!) This is a world with magic going on! Nowhere is exactly safe. Flee to another world, and see if you are free from all that the Source entails. Just see. Vermin being the good guys? I must have read Dungeons and Dragons too much. In the end, nobody knows what will happen... Bellamy and Alfyn... their wedding will surely be fun to write, though if it even happens is questionable... Why would everything end in bloodshed, hm? :)
Within
KALDOS, KINGDOM OF DRAVANIA
Thordan watched as his uncle strolled around the tent. He can see that Lord Becker was nervous, despite his efforts to hide his anxiety.
It had been a few hours after he had landed right in the middle of Becker's camp. He had been treated well - better than before, and Lord Becker just would not stop apologising about the box and all the other tortures, but he would take this over the barrel, and gladly so. A warm fire, good food, and the company of those he liked - how much would Thordan give for all three!
"Eager to see your friends again?" The older otter asked without warning, shattering Thordan from his cosy thoughts. Sitting down into his chair, Becker was very different since the last time they had met. Well, that was three years ago, but he seemed ancient, despite being younger than Thordan's namesake grandfather by a good twenty seasons.
"Yes." Not in the mood to talk, Thordan could only hope that no further questions would be asked - hopes that were dashed to pieces when Becker opened his mouth again.
"You must like that weasel very much - I mean, he's actually loyal to you. Not a lot of vermin can boast of being loyal."
"You wouldn't understand." Thordan shook his head.
"I'll do my best." Becker missed another cue to stop his mouth. "His father set you two up, had he not? All for making Raevsvakt a haven for his kind. A noble goal for a weasel."
Thordan said nothing and nodded.
"You're not a bad beast, Thordan." Moving his chair closer to his nephew, Becker continued to go on one of his tangents. "Well, aside from the treason and all that. Seriously. If you were never here, we could be in Arnet right now."
Before Becker's mood can take a turn for the worse, Thordan decided to change the subject. "So everything is ending now, is it? What plans do you have for me?"
"Plans are not for me to make, Young Thordan." Becker made a gesture with a paw. "My duty is to take you towards Floret, after you kindly ask the creatures under you to lay down their arms, of course."
"What will happen to me after I do that?"
"Well… you have to ask King Gideon for that. I do not think I have a say in your fate."
"Let us both hope for the best." Thordan sighed. "Why? Just why did you start this war?"
The older otter rolled his eyes. "Triel had a stranglehold over Southsward politics, and no measure in peacetime can help it break free. The only way to help Southsward is for Southard blood to be shed, and Trielian blood with it."
"With so much talk of blood, you seem notably unscathed." Thordan crossed his paws, feeling lucky for once that his paws were not restrained.
With a surge, Becker's paw cuffed Thordan's head, eliciting a pained cry in return. "I could do nothing but watch all three of my boys sacrifice themselves for Southsward! Clever Garrion, strong Godred and witty Bedric will be no more, while crowned beasts who do nothing like you still live!" He took a deep breath, than sat down again. "You have the rest of your life to think about it. Whether you keep your crown, liberty or life does not matter. Ensure that our kin are not forgotten!" He sighed. "And you're going to give another one of your stoic nods, are you?"
"They will not be forgotten." Thordan echoed. "Your sons will not be left for oblivion to claim them, and neither will my father or brother."
The otterlord tried to squeak a protest, but decided not to. "Your father is a goodbeast fighting on the wrong side."
A brief silence was broken by Thordan. "That's what Father used to say about you." He let his head drop. "He still blames you for the Sigrid thing."
"That was not me." Becker tensed up. "Besides, I would have gone for you first if I happened to play foul."
"That is not comforting at all."
"Ah well. Politics is often disconcerting. You should be glad that the crown over your head won't be worn in quite a while."
A figure in red poked his head out from the tent. Denebas Burelas may have been an alien figure here, but he seemed to know every single tent here. Borellers were, and still are warrior folk, able to differentiate between the most similar of weapons. He had been Trielised to some degree, but he knows who he is.
Standing aside him was Lord Rueford, who was basically Becker's detachable shadow. Were it not for him, Dravania would have a king in the form of Erlend. What he lacked in strategic acumen, he had in impetus.
"The Dravanians have arrived here. They are ready to talk."
"Alright." Becker stood up, gesturing Thordan to do the same. "I think I'll handle the talking, lad. Stay silent if you have to."
Thordan, true to himself, nodded.
They walked for quite a bit.
The camp was big, for one. Otterguards were in quite the celebratory mood. After all, Lord Becker had just won the war while shedding little to no blood. The enemy king was in his pockets, and celebrations were reported to be underway in Floret. The scent of alcohol filled the air - a common occurrence while soldiers celebrate, and the wind transmitted the smell of caught birds roasting on the fires. Bodvar waved at him as if he was a common friend of his - and not a royal torture victim.
But those trivial things bothered Thordan not.
Standing on the opposite side of the camp were four figures. Lord Strandsor and his son were swiftly ignored in favour of the tall otter and the short weasel. Without a single trace of thought, the otterking saw fit to throw decorum out of the window and rushed forward, ending up in a solid embrace.
"THOOOOOORDAN!" The smallest mustelid plummeted into Thordan's paws. "Glad to see you alive and well!"
"Gates, we missed you!" Alfyn was no less excited, though he tried to hide his emotions. "What happened to your jaw?"
"Stair trouble." Thordan let go of his two friends. "Where's my sister? She's safe, right? Did anything happen to her?"
"Well… she's with Lord Lorcan. She swore never to talk to Lord Becker in parley, for fear of him throwing a hissy-fit." Egil grinned. Fates afire, it was good to see the weasel again. It was good to see that the weasel had not left him.
"I did not throw a hissy-fit!" Becker interjected, causing three pairs of eyes to look straight at him. "Sorry for interrupting your tender moment."
"No problem." Thordan crossed his paws. "If you can stuff kings into boxes and start wars of massive proportions, then I doubt that you would have qualms here."
"Well… this is personal." Becker prepared to walk away when Egil spoke, for once concerned.
"Those rumours about Thordan and I being… closer than friends. Those were your fault, yes?'
Becker nodded. "No use denying it now, though it was not my idea. I just fanned the flames. After all, all rumours have some truth to them."
"You don't honestly believe them, do you?" Alfyn walked closer to the other otterlord. "The rumours that you had helped spread?"
"Not really. Besides, I have plans for little Thordan here."
"Plans?" Thordan had never heard of them - or even knew of them, for that matter.
'Well… it's complicated. Boils back from before you were born. I'll talk to you soon enough." He gave a smile. "In the meantime, can we discuss terms for surrender and the like? I believe that we have come for the exact same purpose."
"Very well. Name your terms, Lord Becker." Lord Gustav spoke for the first time. He was quite the slimy figure - an unstable ally of Lord Erlend. During Thordan's time in the box, he had suspected the lord of being responsible for his forced absence, though it seemed unlikely. The fact that the Strandsors were standing next to Alfyn and Egil was proof enough.
"You're actually surrendering?" Alfyn turned, while Lord Gustav took a step backward. "Do you expect to end the whole Dravain war business as easily as you started it?"
"Alfyn." Thordan's voice made the tall otter take a deep breath. "I would rather do the negotiating myself. But not now. I have a few affairs to take ca-"
"By chance you're not running away, would you?"
Thordan turned his head, stopping in his tracks. "No. I swore not to."
"Spoken like a true Dravanian, king or not." Becker chuckled. "Despite this, I doubt you can be trusted - you're too much like your grandfather. Don't worry though, I'll take good care of you. An armed guard shall suffice."
"How so?" Egil asked, with an angry look on his face. "You will not simply hand our king back to us, and wrench him away from our paws within minutes!"
"I have no such intention. It is not the Southard way to dangle my own kin in front of your gates, after all. Anyways, Kaldos is Southard, by occupation if not by bloodright."
"I have to ask you one single thing, uncle." Thordan decided that there was no better time to speak - not today, anyways. "None of the city's inhabitants be burdened. No fire-tax or anything. Their lives will be left alone, without any loss of life and property."
"It is agreed." Becker nodded, and sighed loudly. "You may not be brave, but you possess great wisdom that I wish your father had."
Thordan smiled sadly. "Like you said, I'm too much like my grandfather."
The takeover was fast and efficient.
The key was handed over to Becker by Regent Gustav Strandsor, as Lord Becker insisted that his nephew be spared from further humiliation. Southard troops surged into the city, with no crowd cheering them on, but no riot stopping them.
Meanwhile, Thordan was escorted into his rooms by the Waycasters, who kindly stayed silent in their trip through the streets of Kaldos. They were silent, of course, with all the Southards in. Nobeast dared to oppose a direct order from their young king, least of all when thousands of armed beasts were roaming the streets.
The castle was now Becker's, to manage if not to own, so Thordan had to wait for the gates to be opened. When they did open, the otterking rushed forwards into his bedroom.
The servants had still cleaned everything despite his absence, and Thordan was grateful for them. Rows of books still lined the shelves, and his desk was still spotless after all this time.
Except for the chess piece on it.
Strangely, it was not broken - Thordan couldn't even manage to do that, but somehow it was here in Kaldos.
Lifting up the wooden piece, the otter's gaze fell on a piece of paper lying beneath the figure. He rapidly picked it up and spread it apart, furrowing his brows when he saw Dagbert's paw-writing.
Dear King Thordan Swalestrom,
I would like to apologise sincerely for your past experiences. Kidnapping you, as you may recall, was a poor decision on my part, and torturing you more so.
As a gesture of reconciliation, you can have your Amplifier back. I have no idea why you had abandoned it in the first place, but I would say with confidence that your life will be easier if it is in your possession.
What I had told you in Viksten was all true. Your grandfather and Isangrim the fox had already participated in the destruction of entire worlds and their populations. Millions of innocent beasts have lost their lives thanks to the actions of those two seers. Do beware of them. Especially your namesake. Dead he may be, he is still a credible threat to all that exists.
Within my secret journey to Loamhedge, I have foreseen three futures. The first is all worlds being destroyed by the Ward, while you sit calmly on the Dravain throne. The second is you blinded and half-mad, languishing in the dungeons of Castle Floret for all eternity. The third is you dying at our paws. You fought bravely, though you made too many mistakes, and was slain with relative ease.
Though my tone may seem threatening, it is advice I bring, not a show of force. Walk your own path, Thordan Swalestrom. Many beasts, seers or not, will seek to guide your steps. So far, of all beasts that carry noble blood in their veins, only King Niels of Otharn can be trusted, and not even him can even be relied on. Perhaps Palatine Corrado can be trusted, though nothing can be sure, except that you should stay away from your mother, for good or for ill.
Lastly, if you see Hersent the grey vixen, I beg you that you lead her away from Isangrim. She is a Thaumaturge of potential, yet with such a dark cloud by her side, it will no doubt corrupt her, even by your standards. Use her as your mother would, though do try to refrain from murder. Isangrim had sowed death on no less than two kings now.
I am sure that you are a better beast than your grandfather. Once again, I regret what I had done to you, and I hope to make amends in the near future.
May your imprisonment be brief, and may you walk free soon enough.
Yours sincerely,
Dagbert, Castle Archivist of Floret.
P.S. Do be aware that Conjuration cannot be accessed in Floret, nor Thaumaturgy as well. The reason is complex, and would require a long explanation that I am unable to give now. Perhaps the next time.
Thordan's paws tightened as his finished reading the last few words. He had a way out of everything now. He could run away from Lord Becker's forces, here and now, disregarding his oaths, but surely that would lead to more harm than good. He simply cannot let Lord Becker ransack his city due to him having cold footpaws. The young otter would meet his fate with as much courage as a king could muster.
Besides, Dagbert would surely drag him back to Floret if that were the case, with his teeth even, should it prove to be necessary.
Putting the figure down, the otterking walked out of his room.
Thordan had been here before, sitting down under a tree, with his friends watching over him. How close he had come to driving Egil away was clear, but the weasel had stayed loyal to him time after time.
But Egil had been accounted for, while Thordan's sister had not.
"Sigrun, I'm sorry," Thordan sat down next to the ottermaid. Sigrun had been unharassed by Becker, who knew that speaking to her would probably lead to further humiliation, either of Thordan or Becker himself.
"Oh, it's not your fault." Sigrun never even turned her head towards her brother. "Aside from that one time you got kidnapped. And that other where you didn't crown yourself until it was too late. When you just surrendered Kaldos do the Southard as well."
"Well-"
"I do wonder what Father would say. Seeing you crowned and all that." Sigrun spat.
"I wasn't a good king." Thordan nodded, "but-"
"You were a goodbeast - you still are." Sigrun nodded. "But the further you stay from any throne the better." She spun away from her brother. "I misjudged you. You'll never know what it is to truly rule. To defend, to pass judgement, to safeguard the lives of thousands of beasts!"
"Sister, I-"
The thought dawned on her to give him the worst wound she could have given. "I wish Father married my mother instead of yours. I wish Sigurd lived and ruled while you buried your snout in books and tomes! I wish you were never born from that Parman fox-cuddler's womb!"
"I know." Before Sigrun could order him to get out, he sprinted out of the courtyard.
'Wait! Thordan! I didn't mean it! Come back!" came Sigrun's voice, but Thordan decided not to comply. Not this time.
He buried himself in his bed, and sobbed himself to sleep.
Dagbert watched as King Thordan lay prone on his bed, snoring loghtly. He had stayed ]invisibly Veiled in his room throughout the entire evening, having just enough time to deliver his letter and the Amplifier atop Thordan's desk before he barged right into the room.
His eyes were still wet from all that weeping from his conversation with Sigrun - the same ottermaid which he Pressured to forget Thordan's little display of magic. She was quite close to seeing past his disguises - the mole would have to remember to make a better Veil next time.
The air suddenly shifted apart, and Arbert walked it, with enough timing to adjust his pawsteps so that the sleeping otter hears nothing. Or it was some Conjuration that hid sound.
"We are headed for a truce of sorts." The warrior mole was younger than his brother by almost eighteen seasons - enough time to fill right into the areas of personalities that Dagbert never seemed to possess.
"Truce?"
"Emetselk has promised us some concessions. We are in the Levinshard, or the Lightningshard. Two names, one place. You should probably do the talking."
"Agreed." The head of an otter perked out from the Pathway Arbert made. Emetselk, naturally. He looked quite like Old King Thordan, but he was somehow taller, and more handsome than he was - later modifications to his body. "Arbert here does not even have the slightest grasp on rhetoric, not to mention his complete inability to speak coherently after I mentioned his love life."
"Can you leave that for later?" Dagbert crossed his paws.
"Well… I did mention Rebecca once, and he decided to ask too many questions."
Emetselk coughed softly, compelling that the brothers pay him attention. "Anyways, you are invited to walk within the grounds of the Aetherical Research Facility! Of course, any damages you create are your legal responsibility, and do expect that you will be asked to pay us back!"
Arbert chuckled a bit at the joke, leading to a confused stare from Dagbert. "I do not recall that your sense of humour could be so crude."
Arbert sniggered. "As I recall, you made the same joke when Slyte entered Floret."
"Enough talk - for now." The otter gestured the moles to walk through the Pathway, which they did. Before he closed it, the revived Warder moved up to Thordan's slumbering form, and kissed him gently on the cheek.
'That's just for luck," the elder Thordan whispered. "He'll need loads of it for the trials to come."
A/N: Another Thordan-focused chapter. I originally wanted to quit before the last segment, but Dagbert roped me back in. And no, he did not stuff me in a box.
The next chapter may or may not feature Thordan at all, so I hope that would be OK with all of you.
Chapter 43 (Blind to the Dark) will be up on 29/30 January. Oh, and happy birthday, me.