The Heiress
Alryne
Alryne was a fast-growing metropolis that, despite its transient glory as the temporary capital, offered nothing but an echo of its monotony. Where other cities flaunted their architectural marvels, natural wonders, or illustrious natives, Alryne presents a stark contrast - a canvas devoid of the artist's muse.
Nestled upon a dreary expanse, Alryne’s encircled by a formidable wall, as dark as the despair it evokes. Within, the city unfolds in a grid of utilitarian structures, each as unremarkable as the next. The streets, lined with stone edifices, boast windows vast yet vacant, and doors of steel, unyielding and cold. Amidst the sombre landscape, the only respite from the pervasive drabness are the red banners, emblazoned with a golden lion. Occasionally, a solitary bloom dares to punctuate the grey with its fragile beauty, a silent rebellion against the city's oppressive gloom.
Alryne’s austere design betrays its original purpose: a colossal archive, a repository for an empire's knowledge destined only for the eyes of its caretakers and their kin. Here the empire's heartbeats are chronicled, its secrets ensconced within walls witnessing the relentless march of time. From atop the walls, one's gaze stretches into flat infinity, over lands fertile and free, a testament to Alryne's self-sufficiency -an empire’s pride, yet my disdain.
For nearly three centuries, the city's core has remained immutable, a testament to stagnation. Yet, beyond the confines of its walls, life stirs in the outlying districts. The eastern quarter, now a haven for mages, pulses with energy. "Wouldn't a portal serve you better for your return?"
The day is fair, even as Alryne crumbles under the weight of its inertia. I glanced at Lukas, my guardsman, whose scowl was ill-suited for the splendour of his uniform. Kaleb, conversely, seems relieved to be amidst the city's decay. "The Commander expects you to return to the capitol, immediately after the audience with the Duke," Lukas imparts, his nonchalance belying a desire to hasten my departure.
"And why should I care about what Hamilton wants?" I retort, as the city's vibrant light beckons. The streets brim with exuberance, merchants peddle exotic flora, arcane concoctions, and tomes dubious enchantments. A talisman is thrust upon me, its alleged protection as questionable as the faith it purports to inspire. “Am I to seek solace in a charm of my Light?”
"Your presence is demanded in the Palace, amidst the throne room's grandeur not here." Lukas persists, his resolve stirring something within me. "Like you've said you would."
"I appreciate your concern, Lukas," I said, passing mages who weave their magic openly with infectious joy. I returned their reverent bows and pressed on, lured by a haunting melody from the shadows. If only I could discern its source.
As I meandered through the labyrinthine alleys, the elusive melody that once guided my steps faded into silence. Emerging into a modest square, I surrendered to the quietude, the melody becoming a lost whisper in Alryne´s sombre embrace. The city´s darkened edifices loomed, their stern facades intermittently softened by royal banners and the luminescent threads of magic that wove through stone, threatening its very integrity. I mused on the inevitable decay, the city´s need for rebirth -a future burden for a crowned head.
And since by that time, I’ll still have my crown... well. Lucky me.
Leaning against the sturdy corner of a building, I observed a young mage conjuring ethereal creatures from smoke, much to the delight of the surrounding children. These whimsical beings, more orbs with eyes and tails than true animals, captivated the young audience, their innocent joy contrasting the city´s dreariness.
The simplicity of their merriment offered a brief respite from the boredom of governance and the looming relocation to Nerkam. The city ́s archives, bound by protocol, necessitated the creation of a new portal, a task both costly and complex, yet a preferable alternative to the stagnation of Alryne.
My reverie was shattered by a soft voice, and at my feet, a golden lion cub -an illusion so lifelike, it could only be the work of a masterful mage. With a playful wink and a mischievous nibble at my shirt's button, the cub elicited an involuntary chuckle from me. As I searched for its creator, I found him across the square, his proud gaze fixed upon the enchanting spectacle.
In a moment of unanticipated reunion, I found myself enveloped in his embrace, the familiar scent of woody perfume allowing me to relinquish the weight of my duties. “I wouldn't expect to run into you here,” I confessed, stepping back to give him some space, yet his curious gaze remained, a silent demonstration of our shared history.
“I've been in Alryne for almost a year now.”
His admission of a year ́s long presence in Alryne took me aback -such a prolonged stay of a foreign heir within my domain should not have escaped notice. “Allaway,” I muttered through clenched teeth, the name has a bitter taste.
Steven´s feigned disappointment at my reaction did little to ease my concern. “You do realise Edgar would kill me, should something happen to his favourite son?” I retorted. The bastard would have done it without hesitation.
He just chuckled, a sound that belied the weight of his lineage. “I am not his favourite,” he confessed, his gait casual as we traversed the city´s austere avenues.
His denial of favouritism did little to quell my concerns. “Ah, of course, but who could handle the intricacies of his court?” I mused, taming a rebellious lock of hair into submission. Steven´s silence was a canvas for contemplation, his gaze perhaps pondering my temperance. “It is my right to be informed of a royal´s presence within my domain,” I reminded him, my tone light, yet firm.
His apology, draped in theatrical remorse, was an attempt to soothe diplomatic tension. Only there´s none. “May this oversight not spoil the harmony between our realms,” He said, a smile playing upon his lips.
”Don´t -,” I dismissed his concern with a laugh. But his smile soon faded, replaced by a strange resignation.
“It's time for me to pack up.” he intimated, the joy seeping from his voice.
“Hasn't he changed his mind?” I inquired, though his clenched jaw spoke volumes. The silence that followed was a solid proof of the finality of his fate. “So, back to Athran, eh?” I pressed, seeking confirmation.
“Does it matter?” he pondered aloud, his demeanour suggesting an imminent departure and the dawn of his reign. “‘It's not the longing for home that troubles me, but the peculiar charm of Alryne,” he gestured, encompassing the city’s stoic beauty as we passed a lifeless statue, its subject unnamed and unremembered. “I'm going to miss it.”
His confession struck a chord. “In my whole life, and that it's not a short one, I've never heard of anyone who would miss Alryne,” I teased him, though his wistful smile hinted at deeper sentiment.
“I can show you what I'm going to miss the most if you want?” he proposed, extending his hand as he had once before. Prudance dictated refusal, yet curiosity and an inexplicable trust led me to accept. Hand in hand, we navigated the city's thoroughfares, his presence a captivating mystery.
At the city gates, I wrestled with my thoughts, reluctant to be shadowed by the Guard. A brief message to Hamilton sufficed -I am the master of my fate, capable of steering my course.
As we stepped beyond the walls, an expanse unfurled before us, revealing a tapestry of the landscape’s serene monotony. The road, a vein leading to the city’s heart, was flanked by undulating fields of grain, their golden hues a mystery to my untrained eye. Yet, I felt a pull to understand their secrets. Beyond the cultivated land, meadows burst into life, a kaleidoscope of wildflowers dancing in the breeze.
Dominating the view, the solitary Astronomical Tower rose, a riddle set against the open sky. Its presence here, far from Alryne’s embrace, is a mystery. No towering hills could block the celestial view, no lights of the dark city could outshine the stars’ gentle glow.
He led us to the tower, not with enthusiasm but with a singular purpose. “It’s peaceful here,” I murmured, as the city’s cacophony faded into silence, its myriad scents lost to the wind. Here, the sun was a generous artist, bathing every inch of land in warm, radiant light. The wind, unbridled in the open fields, wove a symphony with the grass, carrying whispers of floral fragrance mingled with his subtle perfume.
“This is my sanctuary from the city’s clamour, a reminder of Arlintanga’s quietude,” he confessed, gesturing towards the distant road. “You can see Athran from here.”
The forest marking Zessia’s boundary is a mere whisper on the horizon. “It’s closer than I thought,” I mused. The proximity seems dangerous from this perspective. My gaze settled on Steven, his future as a king is another curious riddle. Would he rise to challenge me?
Athran, once a vassal, had offered its riches freely -blue steel and timber flowing without restraint. That was the world I knew until dissent festered, and Edgar’s cries for freedom echoed, challenging the status quo. Jonathan, bound by friendship and duty, forged a compromise. The common folk gained their voice, Edgar his coveted crown and we, advantageous treaties - all under the unwavering gaze of our Light.
“Does that unsettle you?” he inquired, hands clasped, lips pursed in a knowing expression.
“Yes,” I conceded. “Athran’s proximity is troubling, and yet, our deliveries falter. It’s a cruel irony.” crossing the distance is trivial; portals would bridge the gap. But the terms are a problem. “Were you aware? Galleren reported a month’s delay in timber from the lowlands.”
His eyes narrowed as he placed a hand over his heart. “Upon my return to Dithune, it shall be rectified, my liege,” he declared, laughter in his voice.
“Very funny. I can check it myself. Perhaps it’s the final vexation for Ed before his abdication -a fitting farewell.” Steven’s surprise was palpable, unaccustomed to such irreverence towards his father, especially coming from a little girl he takes me for.
“Dealing with you must be so much fun,” he quipped, his head tilting in a feigned disapproval.
“Indeed, every moment is an adventure with me, though not all possess the acumen to cherish it,” I retorted, my eyes narrowing in playful challenge as I mirrored his stance.
“Every single one?” His voice carried a provocative edge. In response, I simply nodded. With a swift stride, he closed the distance between us, halting mere inches away. His green eyes searched mine, a hesitant longing within their depths. I refused to be merely an object of his gaze again. My hands found his shoulders, drawing him nearer, while he encircled my waist, pulling me into his embrace.
Our lips met, a tender collision of warmth and yearning. The world fell apart, leaving only the sensation of his touch, the softness of his kiss, and the intoxicating scent of cedar. It was only this close that I could finally place the fragrance that had haunted me since our first encounter. The longing I had harboured -to be drawn into his arms, to be kissed and held- was now a fervent reality, a desire I craved more than propriety allowed.
A tension coiled Steven’s muscles, a rigidity that belied the softness of our embrace. A guttural sound from behind us shattered the moment. We were meant to be alone. Reluctantly, I released him and turned to face the emptiness. Except for the Astronomical Tower stretching lazily towards the sky, there’s nothing. I studied the horizon, noting the stillness where once the wind played. The grass stood motionless as if holding its breath.
“You should probably return,” I suggested, a hint of urgency in my voice. He surveyed the surroundings, sword drawn -a wise precaution. I reached down, retrieving a dagger from my boot. Though intended for throwing, its length defied convention. Yet, I had wielded it so often, it felt like an extension of my own will. Steven's chuckle rippled through the tension. My weapon, with its short blade, might not strike fear, but it was a barrier between me and any would-be assailant.
A gust of wind ushered in a blanket of dark clouds, plunging us into unnatural darkness. Not a single ray of light pierced the gloom, and the air grew cold.
With a flourish, I traced a circle in the air, igniting a ring of fire that erupted around us. It was a makeshift beacon but I was hoping it would reveal any approaching threat.
“What are they?” I gasped as silhouettes emerged from the shadows. They resemble contorted figures, advancing with erratic jerks, their eyes ablaze with an eerie blue luminescence. My mind raced to the reports of the undead. Could we run into those creatures? In broad daylight, near a bustling city?
I counted four. Not an army, but predominance against just the two of us. And I can't risk his life against these odds. The blue glow in their eyes sparked a memory, a crucial detail eluding me. Something's wrong with them and I'm pretty sure magic won't help us with this. Before I could voice my warning, Steven unleashed a fireball. The creature’s garb ignited, yet it pressed on, bearing sharp teeth. A second fireball struck the creature moments later, but it didn't fall.
My instincts screamed for my sword, but first, I had to test my theory. With a whispered incantation, I sent my dagger slicing through the air, its blade humming with magic. It struck true, embedding itself between the creature’s eyes with a sickening crunch. The beast staggered, fell, and for a fleeting moment, lay still -then, unnervingly, it began to rise again. “That's bad.”
The first abomination stepped into the light, and I beheld the grotesque details previously shrouded in darkness. Hairless, its dark skin was marred with gashes that oozed no blood. Its piercing blue eyes held no life, no soul -only hunger soon resolved by bared, ravenous teeth. Clad in tattered rags, it brandished no weapon, relying instead on sharp claws. Just the thought of those tearing my flesh sends a visceral shudder down my spine.
I realised they're not exactly undead, but something more sinister, something crafted. The undead we knew were souls trapped by misfortune or malice, but these creatures had been summoned. Twisted into existence by dark intent -their rotting scent of drawn magic is proof of vile sorcery at play.
Another monster joined the fray as I cursed. Steven put his reflexes to use, severing its hand with a swift motion of his sword. The hand, still animated, thudded onto the grass, its fingers twitching with malevolent intent. Another attack loomed, and there in the morning, I thought nothing interesting was going to happen today.
I had no choice. Extending my hand, I summoned my sword -a weapon of deceptive fragility, resembling a shard of glass yet as hard as a diamond. It caught the light, a prism of deadly beauty. With effortless grace, it cleaved through the creature, decapitating it in a single, fluid motion. Both parts slumped to the ground, lifeless at last.
Steven and I stood back-to-back, a silent accord between us. From one direction, a fiery monster advanced, from the other, the armless horror. I contemplated dousing the flames, but time was a luxury we didn't have. The armless monstrosity closed in rapidly. Dodging its vicious swipe, I countered with a slice across its chest, leaving my blade coated in a viscous, black ichor. It was repugnant l, and I harboured a little hope it would clean easily, but I kind of suspect the opposite.
The creature’s swiftness was a cruel surprise, its claws lunging for me once more. I evaded, my mind set on a lethal counter. Meanwhile, Steven, with arcane prowess, repelled the fiery undead, a spell conjuring a shockwave that hurtled it backwards, quenching its flames.
Yanking my sword from the fallen foe, a black ichor oozed forth, pooling into the earth. I watched, repulsed, as the dark substance dripped from my blade - a sinister clue to their origin, perhaps. But my thoughts were shattered by a familiar grunt, a harbinger of dread.
Steven, embroiled in combat with the burning revenant, was oblivious to the new threat. The dagger I had provided was now in the hands of our unseen adversary. I shouted a warning, but it was lost in the chaos. Desperation lent me strength, I shoved Steven clear, only to find myself in harm's way.
The dagger, my misguided gift, tore through my shirt and flesh with a vicarious hunger, burying itself to the hilt. Agony and the force of the blow brought me to my knees. A bitter irony - my own weapon, now a traitor lodged within me.
The stench of decay and drawn magic filled the air as the creature´s maw neared. A surge of golden energy burst from my palm, repelling the beast momentarily. I´d love to finish it, but pain is a tyrant, demanding my focus, and stealing my breath.
My left hand grappled with the dagger's handle, while my right refused to release my sword. “Steven,” I called, my voice a strained whisper. He has to know by now, that magic is futile against these horrors. “Steven!” At last, he turned, comprehension dawning in his eyes.
Feebly, I extended the sword towards him. My movement was slight, but it conveyed my intent. He rushed to my side, taking the weapon and spinning back to face the enemy. He spared no glance for my wound, there was no time for such luxuries. Yet, I marvelled at how naturally my sword obeyed him.
As my consciousness waned, fixated on the icy steel within me, I knew I must act. To remove the dagger was to hasten my demise, yet an inexplicable urge compelled me. I had to try, to attempt a healing before darkness claimed me. Death was not on today's agenda.
The dagger's handle was slick in my grasp, refusing to obey my desperate clench. I stretched my hand, watching in a detached horror as my life's essence trickled down my fingers, pooling in my palm -a crimson lake forming drop by drop. The beauty of the blood, illuminated by the fiery circle, was a grotesque spectacle, yet I couldn't tear my eyes away.
The sea of red grew, threatening to engulf me, to drag me into its depths. I was drowning in it, the red tide rising and falling with each laboured breath.
“Open your eyes, can you hear me?” Steven´s voice pierced the haze, tinged with fear. I forced my eyelids open, not wanting to be the cause of his distress. I could feel his warm hand on my face, contrasting the cold steel within me. He wrapped me in something -his jacket? I couldn't tell, all I could focus on were the eyes, a green so vivid it seemed otherworldly.
“We gotta get you out of here, okay? I don't know how this works with you. You'll be fine, right? We just need to get you out of here; you need to rest.” he pleaded, his voice a lifeline in the encroaching darkness.
“Inni sur Nirlawirn,” I whispered, laugh bubbling through the pain. It's an ancient phrase, one of the first my uncles taught me. The green in Steven's eyes dimmed; he didn't understand. I had forgotten, amid chaos, that he was still so young. My thoughts drifted to his lips -such thoughts seemed wildly inappropriate now. To him, my native tongue must be a mystery, a string of sounds without meaning.
The question he posed, a relentless torrent, threatened to anchor me to a reality I yearned to escape. Nerkam, with its gleaming palace and golden spires, might be a mere relic to him, devoid of the reverence it held in my heart. Had he ever wondered its hallowed halls, or was it just a shadow in his world, a forgotten echo of grandeur?
I craved solitude, a moment to bask in the hues that haunted me -the verdant depths of green, the crimson tide of red. Yet, his presence was a constant, his inquiries a barrier to the silent reverie I sought.
Why did I allow his voice to intrude upon my thoughts? A single leap stood between me and the solitude I covered. Exhaustion weighed heavily upon me, his warmth and the scent of cedar filling my senses, his voice a melody I wished to silence.
The oppressive darkness gave way to the sterile glow of fluorescent lights, the pupils of his eyes shrinking, surrendering to the vibrant green. But the moment was fleeting; his visage faded, replaced by another -a woman's face, her features sharp with concern. She bombarded me with questions, but I had no interest in her words. My duty was fulfilled, we’re safe.
Now, I can surrender to the red sea, and let the green envelop me in its embrace. No one could pull me back -not anymore.
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