The Elder Lands

Lucan’s horse trod a muddy path towards Arpague’s gates. The guards kept the roads that led to their gates and their surroundings clear. He’d observed that the closest shack was at bowshot. Yet the protected road couldn’t escape the mud and grime brought on by the squalor in its surroundings. The road was actually made of stone, if the small clear spots of it were any proof, but its condition seemed to have been worsening for some time with it so ill-maintained, if it was maintained at all.

Lucan had been right about his expectations for the smell too. Even with distance between them and the outer inhabitants, the wind brought with it the smell of mud, rot, and shit. His nose was already getting used to it.

He gazed at his father as the latter approached the guards at the gate and was greeted by them. Their whole retinue was wearing the Zesh colors of course, and while his father wasn’t a hero of great fame, he was adequately renowned and the Zesh colors were recognizable.

Lucan noted the merchant ahead of them being hastened by the guards to move aside along with his cart, then they were led in. His father had been planning for them to spend a night or two at an inn until he could be put through the Trial, but the guards surprised them by informing them that while Duke Elmere had already left for the capital, he’d left word for residence to be provided for Sir Golan Zesh in the keep should he arrive at the city.

The blessings of being a political ally, for a time at least, Lucan thought.

Inside the city’s stone walls, the streets were filled with people and merchants, making movement difficult were it not for their horses and the guards escorting them to the keep.

The streets were as filthy as expected, though these ones at least appeared to suffer from some maintenance, being whole and unbroken, built with cobblestone.

Buildings lined the sides of the street, some of them new, some of them older than his grandfather would have been had he still been alive. A house here was only two storeys high, and a building there was four or five high, being an establishment of some sort. This city was old–no–ancient in a way.

When spoken of in court or on formal occasions, Eldham, the capital, was the largest city in the Kingdom. But in truth, it was well-known that Arpague was the largest in the realm, even if it was not the prettiest nor the most pleasant-smelling. The imperials had built it centuries ago, to be a center of trade and administration in the region. It was still the former, receiving more trade than any other settlement in Barwalis. Lucan didn’t let the appearance of squalor and filth disillusion him. The residents of Arpague were some of the most prosperous in the realm. An explosion in population due to migration and a birthing boom was the cause for the eventual growth of slums in and around its walls in the last few decades. That didn’t mean that all those who lived in it were beggars and vagrants. Rather, the craftsmen, tradesmen, and merchants who called Arpague home were some of the wealthiest in the lands.

When the Kingdom had just formed, King Vikxor Baroun, the founder of Barwalis, was advised to take Arpague as his capital. The Barouns were proud, however, and they didn’t want to empower the Empire’s legacy, so they’d taken over the military encampment around the Elder Root and formed their capital there. Arpague was relegated to the authority of a favored nephew, and the Kingdom was founded. Eldham had continued to expand since then, only failing to overtake one city in size, the very one the Empire had built up to be the largest.

Lucan’s thoughts were interrupted by their arrival at the central castle’s walls. Even when he had been near the city’s walls, he’d been able to glimpse the keep from between the packed buildings lining the streets. It had looked majestic beyond the faint fog permeating the high winds.

Now he was in front of the castle walls that cradled the keep inside them. The latter was built on a central hill, the four square towers taking up its corners prominent and daunting. Originally, a Governor’s Hall had been built of white-washed stone at this site by the Empire, but the royal nephew who’d been awarded the city back in the day had ended up replacing it with a formidable castle that had since been renovated several times.

The gates of the castle were open and its portcullis raised, though two guards stood at its entrance, and several others on its walls. The guards who’d escorted them consulted with the ones at the gates, then they allowed them inside. A man, whose aging condition was only apparent from the graying color of his hair, received them beyond the gate.

He was square-jawed, and of a build to complement it. With at least sixty years to his name, he still looked intimidating. Lucan could only imagine him in his prime, giving even the wildermen a scare on the battlefield.

As they all dismounted to greet the graying castellan who was on foot, Lucan got to see how the man towered over even his father.

“Sir Winstone,” his father greeted, giving a neutral nod.

“Sir Zesh,” the castellan greeted back in a more pleasant manner, spreading his arms. “Welcome to Arpague.” He turned to Lucan. “This must be your son.”

“Yes,” his father gestured towards him. “This is Lucan, my only son and heir.”

Sir Winstone eyed him critically, if not without mirth, and said, “Promising. I have faith he will make a knight just as fine as his predecessors.”

“Thank you,” his father said.

“Thank you, Sir Winstone,” Lucan said, dipping his head.

The castellan nodded, then, Widely smiling, he gestured for them to follow him into the keep.

Up close, the keep’s size was apparent, perhaps five times as large as their own, or even larger. Lucan could feel a bit of envy creeping into his heart just from the sight. He caught sight of the large banner sprawled on the wall above the entrance as they were led inside. A silver eagle on a blue field.

Upon his father’s request, they were led to their chambers right away, forgoing any formalities.

His father wanted him to be done with the Trial as soon as possible so that they may continue their journey without delay.

Lucan agreed, as taken as he was with the bustle of the big city, he knew that there were more important things to look forward to in the capital, and he was certain that he would grow jaded with the noise and bustle of this city sooner rather than later.

Sir Winstone arranged for them to stay on the same floor midway up in the keep. But when his father addressed the matter of the Trial, the castellan showed the first bit of anxiety Lucan had seen from him today. Then he gave them a surprise they hadn’t expected.

“You see,” Sir Winstone said, “We’ve had an unexpected guest.”

Lucan raised a brow and his father stated a silent inquiry with his eyes. They were standing in one of the keep’s halls after changing into something appropriate for the city.

“Her Highness, Anushka D Baroun, arrived yesterday to go through the Trial herself,” the castellan continued.

Lucan widened his eyes in disbelief. Even his father looked genuinely surprised.

“The princess is here?” his father asked incredulously.

“Aye,” Sir Winstone said. “I believe she should’ve arrived at the Sphere Hall already. I’m unaware whether she would be amenable to sharing the Hall with someone during the Trial. Master Blacke, the duke’s mage, is entrusted with the care of the Hall. You will have to consult with him if you wish to have young Lucan go through the Trial today.”

His father sighed exasperatedly and nodded. He turned to Lucan. “We ought to head to the Hall promptly. I hear that once the Trial is taken, it takes several days to be ready for use again.”

“More,” Sir Winstone said. When he received quizzical looks from both of them, he amended, “Many more than a few days.”

“Then we ought to hurry,” his father said.

Lucan nodded in agreement and they were off.

Only Cordell and a servant accompanied them through the crowded streets of Arpague, the latter acting as their guide. They headed to one of the more well-off districts of the city where the Sphere Hall had been built. It was no coincidence that this district was the most well-guarded after the keep either. The source of the Trial was a priceless artifact that would only come second to the duke’s own life. It might even supersede that if the duke was a man bound by duty to his house and its coming generations.

Lucan noted the uniform quality of housing in the district immediately, even if the sizes were uneven, some houses larger and grander than others. All the houses were surrounded by thin walls painted white, trees peeking out of the gardens hugged inside them

Eventually, and after treading an unreasonably long and straight street, they reached the Sphere Hall, which did justice to its name. The building was mostly made of a squat dome, made of white stone and marble. It seemed as though it was a bit sunken into the ground, its foundations deeper than ordinary.

Lucan didn’t know why it gave him the impression of a temple, though he knew that part of it might be because of the glorified way it was built. Small yet grand. Simple yet ruinously expensive. Lucan could only imagine.

The building had only one entrance, a large double gate… gold-colored? “Is that…”

“Yes,” his father answered him before he could finish the question. “It’s plated with goldsteel. Its enchantments are powerful enough to stop a warmage. The walls are engraved with enchanted gold from the inside, and some mythril too, if the rumors speak true.”

Lucan looked at the gates as they grew closer and closer, now seeing the runic shapes that ran over the goldsteel plating. He had no doubt that if he had had any kind of arcane senses, the enchantments would have been bearing down on him now.

Instead of a reasonable number of guards, nearly three dozen flanked the gates. An ornate carriage was also waiting nearby. Lucan caught sight of the bronze gleam of the Royal Guard’s armor among the waiting men.

Before they could get closer to the Hall, they were called to a stop.

“Halt!” A voice came from within the group of guards. Then three men stepped out, approaching them. One of them was in the bronze armor of the Royal Guard, another wore armor that was somewhat similar to the City Watch, and the third wore robes that seemed to change color whenever his body’s movement angled its fabric differently against the sunlight.

“Sir Zesh?” the one in bronze armor said, recognizing his father.

“Aye,” his father said. “Greetings, Sir Thorne.” He shifted his eyes to the robed man. “Greetings, Master Blacke.”

The mage returned the greeting while the royal knight looked perplexed by their presence. The first man, who was obviously one of the original guards of the Hall, wisely chose not to engage with his betters beyond greeting his father appropriately.

After a brief few exchanges, the matter of their presence became clear. Master Black looked apologetic but didn’t move on the matter, gesturing towards Sir Thorne who spoke for the princess.

“For the safety of the princess and her convenience, we are to make certain that only she has access to this Trial, however wasteful some people deem it.” He threw a glare Master Blacke’s way.

“Sir Thorne,” his father said. “My son was due to go through the Trial at this time. As you well know, the King has summoned all of the realm’s vassals. We cannot afford a prolonged delay.”

The royal knight shook his head. “Then I suppose your son will have to wait until after the solstice gathering to partake in the Trial.”

“I was hoping we could beseech her Highness’s kindness to allow him entry along with her,” his father said, glancing at Lucan. “I’m certain he will acquit himself well in her Highness’s presence.”

Sir Thorne seemed hesitant, perhaps contemplating whether to refuse on principle or to avoid making decisions for the princess lest he make trouble for himself.

Lucan watched as the knight finally made up his mind, gesturing for one of the other bronze-clad knights to go into the Hall. Then he turned and led them after the knight who’d likely been sent to alert the princess. “Follow me,” Sir Thorne said, his pace slow as he approached the Hall’s gates. “Sir Zesh, I have no doubt that you know the limits of propriety on such matters, but I must remind you not to disturb the princess more than is necessary if she still refuses to share the Hall upon receiving your request.”

Lucan’s father dipped his head in acknowledgment as the other knight glanced back at him.

They were guided into the building, through the plated gate and a hallway that had enchanted carvings on its white stone walls. Once they’d trodden their way through the hallway, it opened it up into an antechamber. The walls it was made of were what first caught Lucan’s attention. They were made of such well-polished, beige marble that he felt as if he was looking at art watching them.

His eyes eventually settled on the party standing on the other end of the chamber. Two knights in bronze flanked the princess who was trailed by several maids. The princess herself was plainer than he’d expected. He might have seen her when he was a child, but he had no vivid memory of it. If he were to be honest with himself, he had expected something more. However, she looked as ordinary as a well-to-do commoner if the latter had clothing and jewelry priced in Royals.

She had dark red hair long enough to reach her elbows, and it was the prettiest thing about her. Her face was as plain as they came, if a bit bony, with some light freckles on the cheeks. She was taller than was preferable for a lady, nearly Lucan’s height. He knew that she was older than him, so he might still expand that difference in the years to come, yet it was still odd.

One of the knights flanking her stepped forward, half-turning with his body to angle towards her. “Her Highness, Anushka D Baroun, the princess and sole daughter to his majesty, the King.”

Lucan and his father halted their approach as the princess was announced by the knight. They both bowed low, as was appropriate for her royal station, then they straightened once a sufficient amount of time passed without her telling them to rise.

The princess stepped forward, the knight moving out of her way. “Sir Zesh,” she said. “I’m told you have a request for me?”

His father dipped his head. “Yes, your Highness. My son,” he gestured towards Lucan, “needs to pass the Trial today if he is to go through with it before the solstice gathering. I was told that you wish to go through the Trial in privacy,” he paused at a tilt of her head. “As is your right, of course. Yet I was hoping you would allow Lucan to partake in the Trial along with your esteemed self.”

The antechamber grew quiet for a while, only interrupted by the soft humming coming from the princess who eyed Lucan curiously.

She began to speak, and Lucan could swear he saw a faint, unladylike shrug coming from her. “You have served my father and the realm for many years, Sir Zesh. It is only proper for you to be treated with some exception.” She smiled. “Your son may partake in the Trial as I do.”

His father bowed again. “Much obliged, your Highness.”

She nodded. “Well then, there’s no sense in being tardy.” Then she looked at Lucan. “Shall we?”

Lucan only realized that he had rudely left the princess without an immediate response when her gaze lingered on him for a while. Flustered, he let the words go out of his mouth in a cascade. “Yes, yes–of course, your Highness. Thank y–many thanks.”

Smiling again, she gave a nod at his response and turned around, heading towards the end of the chamber she’d been standing at before. There was a large door there.

Lucan hurried to follow her, not getting too close and staying behind her guards so as not to alarm them.

The large door was opened, and a small room was visible on the other side. There were several open passages in there, each obviously only wide enough for a single man or woman.

Master Black soon followed them into the room, guiding the princess to one of the passages, and having Lucan herded to another, with only a pair of phrases to guide him on his ambiguous Trial. Obviously, the princess had been given deeper instruction on the intricacies of the Trial, but he wasn’t being afforded the same courtesy, considering their haste.

“You will see each other again inside, but you will not be allowed to assist each other.”

“The Spirit of the Sphere must not be disrespected or otherwise irritated. It does have the power to expel anyone from the Trial.”