The Caelid Wilds were… exactly that. There wasn't much to speak of there. The sorcery town of Sellia sprawled across its heartland, but that was about it. Technically, the remnants of the ancient dragons maintained a presence there. That is, the matriarch Greyoll slept on the northern cliffs as a constant threat, should the younger races fail to honor their treaty. But there was not much interest to be had in her brood of lesser dragons who merely prowled their territory like great cats.
All said, Caelid was effectively an unspoiled wilderness. From their castle at the southernmost point in the Lands Between, the Redmane Knights roamed the wilds as their hunting ground while they watched the sea for invaders who would never come. Each of the demigods had been granted a piece of the Lands Between and the authority to rule it unquestioned on their mother's behalf. Others sought to build works of vanity or benevolence. General Radahn saw fit to leave his lands exactly as they were.
That did not mean they were exactly as he wished them. There was that interrogation business he had been put in charge of, for one. And then there was the lake.
Caelid Lake was pitiful. Maybe it should have been called Sellia Pond. It sat on the edge of the sorcery town like an ugly, muddy puddle. Most of the fish that could survive there were tiny, or else the ugly bottom-feeders. Though speaking of such, at least it had plenty of crabs and prawn. They weren't nearly as large as the ones back home in Liurnia, nor as tasty. But at least it was something.
And so here they stood, looking more like grave diggers than warriors. General Radahn and Commander O'Neil were up to their knees in the lake (or at least O'Neil's knees), covered in muddy water and turning up rocks in search of dinner.
O'Neil technically had no reason to be here. He was Malenia's man; the leader of the forces she stationed in Redmane Castle for "cultural exchange" or "training exercises" or whatever the reason was this week. A spy by another name, because the perfect prodigy thought Radahn was too stupid to realize.
Well, that suited Radahn just fine. O'Neil liked him better anyway. He was probably leaking more to the Redmanes than to his mistress. It's not like anyone wanted to live in the frozen mountaintops, so even Caelid was a better posting.
"Here we are, sir," the commander said with the same flat tone as always.
He held up a crab the size of a good buckler.
"Great find!" Radahn laughed, pushing an ice bucket toward him. "At this rate, we'll have more than enough for tonight!"
Radahn always laughed while out of uniform. It was a good way to mentally and socially divide those parts of him. What use was being the fearsome general when there were no more enemies to fight? And yet, he could not help but be a looming physical threat at all times. Better to overdo the friendliness. At least he wasn't Rykard. His brother had a sinister aura to him even before becoming Marika's interrogator.
Honestly, Radahn didn't have much of an issue at this point. His men respected him for his strength and leadership. The sorcerers respected him for his revitalization of gravity magic. And if all it took for the common people to stop being scared of him was to wear comfortable clothes and catch his own dinner like he had as a child – why that was just fine.
The rest of the Lands Between, with its politics and squabbling, could sod off. Godwyn was a decent neighbor, and Caelid was far from that frigid prodigy's frigid lands. He only wished it was easier to visit home, now governed by his little sister. Though speaking of which, his siblings were conspiring more than usual lately. Hopefully, they'd stay safe.
He almost thought about them being consumed by it like that wretch, but he stopped himself. It was prawn time now. The hell with Radagon. He could ruin a family, but he couldn't ruin prawn time.
Still, as he looked at McNeil, he couldn't help but be reminded that there was a tension building. He only hoped Caelid was too wild and out of the way to get dragged into whatever shitstorm was about to break.
No, no. None of this. Prawn time.
It was always so relaxing. A good change of pace. As much as he enjoyed riding wild and free with his trusted friend and steed Leonard, that was also something he did in his official duties. Crawling through the mud was very much not. Unless you counted conversation with Malenia, but that was an insult to mud.
Really, he could just make a gravity field around himself to collect all the crustaceans he wanted, but where was the fun in that. Here and now, even the Red Lion General was just some guy.
He threw a handful of prawn into the bucket and wiped his brow with the back of his arm. He certainly wasn't vain, but he really hated dirtying his proud red hair. It used to mean something, you know. Before the Golden Order forgot its roots.
Momika was planning something, surely. And she hadn't let her trueborn kids know about it. Well, not that half of them would realize it. They were all too young and spoiled to see it – except Godwyn, and Godwyn was too much a good boy. Ah, Radahn thought, what he wouldn't give to see Lord Godfrey's return. He'd straighten this all out, and then… just maybe… they could go prawning together.