A King for a Queen

Arielle opened the bag with trembling hands. Upon seeing its contents she stifled a scream and sank into a nearby chair, all strength gone from her limbs. Tears began to flow down her cheeks as an immense feeling of guilt and grief crashed into her. Kolton, the king of Pelon, was dead. He had traded his life for hers. The life of a king for that of a lowly guard.

She sobbed quietly for several minutes, head in her hands before she registered that her name was being called. She looked up through bleary eyes to see that General Ravenore and Counselor Chi had joined Grand Minister Bhenod. All three were looking at her, grief stricken expressions on their faces.

"Arielle," GM softly said, "these are for you." He handed her an envelope addressed to her. "In know you must be feeling but we need you to read these immediately."

Confusion mixing with her grief, Arielle took the offered envelope. The script and seal revealed it to be from Kolton.  She opened it and removed several sheets of lightweight parchment and a sheet of heavier weight, the kind used for official documents.

She looked at the lighter weight sheets first. Scrawled on them in a neat, but hurried script was:

Dearest Arielle,
      I cannot begin the express the honor you have done me and the kingdom of Pelon by serving as my guard for so many years. You have performed this duty admirably and with greater conviction than anyone could have asked.
     When word came to me of your capture and Jhaeros' condition for your release I knew, without hesitation, what I would do. There are those who will view the exchange as a foolish king throwing his life away for that of a lowly peasant, but they are wrong. It's that of a king, exchanging his life for his queen. A man trading himself for the woman he loves.
      I love you Arielle. I have for some time now. I regret that I never told you, but the knowledge that such an admission would drive you from the Raven Guard and my side was too much to bear.
      I wish I had more time to explain, but I have one last request of you. This request comes not from your king, but from your friend. Enclosed you will find a Certificate of Marriage. It is dated for several days after we returned from our ordeals in Susal (so it will seem to validate the rumors that already drift through the castle). It is signed by myself, General Ravenore, Grand Minister Bhenod, and Counselor Chi, all it needs to be valid is your signature.
      My last request is this: sign the certificate and assume the throne of Pelon. Petition King Ehrendil. He will stand with you. Unite the armies of Pelon and Iselon and crush Jhaeros. Avenge my death and the death of your father. Take back that which is rightfully yours. You are the lost daughter of Ar’undale, rightful queen of Kamor. Never forget that.
      I know this not something you ever wanted, and I'm sorry I must ask it of you. As you consider, remember that I am not asking this of you as your king, but as your friend. It is a request, not a command. Follow your heart as you always have.
     I must go now. I have a narrow window of time in which I will be able to slip out of the castle and come for you. You can trust the three men I have mentioned. They have been true friends. I wish you all the best.
              Your friend,
                 Kolton

Arielle didn't even bother to look at the certificate. She sunk back into the chair, one hand over her mouth, the other limply clutching the papers.

"These have to be fake." She eventually muttered. The words rung hollow even as she said them. She knew Kolton’s handwriting. The documents were authentic.

"I can promise they are not." Grand Minister Bhenod answered. "While no one knew of his plans to trade himself for you, the three of us were fully aware of the certificate. The king had it drawn up in case something happened to him before he married. It was always his intention that you should become queen in that situation."

Arielle ran a hand over her face and muttered "Damn him. He had no right to ask this of me." She covered her eyes, bracing her elbow on the table before her, once again muttering the curse.

After several minutes she asked, "What happens if I refuse to sign?"

"Then Lord Mourndane will assume the throne." General Ravenore answered.

Arielle looked up sharply at the reply. Lord Mourndane was a tyrant. He would run the kingdom into he ground and all the work she and Kolton as well as Kolton’s father had done to improve the lives of half-elves in Pelon would be undone overnight.

"He is the closest surviving relative." Counselor Chi added.

She ran her hand over her face again, suddenly tired. “This will never work.”

Grand Minister Bhenod chuckled. “I believe I said as much to him when he had Counselor Chi draft the certificate.”

“I wasn't even there! How can I agree to a marriage I was never present for?” She asked, tossing the papers onto the table.

“Well actually-”

She looked up to see the three men look at each other sheepishly.

“What?”

Counselor Chi looked back at her. “You were there, standing by the door mind you, but you were there. It was quite obvious that you were uncomfortable with our arguing.”

Arielle’s memory flashed back to the moment he was referencing. Kolton and the men before her had been in a heated argument over something she had been trying not to eavesdrop on. There had been no obvious reason for her to be in the room, but Kolton had been insistent, telling her to stand by the door. At the time she had though he was being paranoid, but apparently he had been being devious.

“This is what you were arguing about?” She queried, not entirely believing their insinuation.

“Yes.” Grand Minister Bhenod replied. “As I said, this plan has been in place for some time.”

Arielle sat back in the chair again. She sat for several minutes staring at the papers strewn across the table, trying not to eye the dark spot that was growing on the bag which was also there. All her life she had wanted to be a beacon of hope to her fellow half-elves living in Pelon. She had become a Keeper, a city guard, to achieve that goal. Circumstances had eventually led to the then prince of Pelon, Kolton, to convince his father to change the law to allow her, and other half-elves, into the Raven Guard, the elite guards who served the royal family directly.

Now, she was presented with not only the opportunity to go beyond that achievement, she was being presented the throne of a powerful kingdom. The throne of a kingdom that had done its best to belittle and demean people like her. She was being given the ultimate chance to embody the hope she had always desired to be. It would be a fight, inside and outside, and while she did not know enough of her father and his kingdom to strongly desire vengeance for him, she could not let Kolton’s progress be in vain.

“Damn him.” She sighed, once again running a hand over her face. She looked back at the three men, “ Who has a pen and ink?”

Dirrect Disobedience

Capt. **** breathed in and out deeply as the lift carried him to the bridge. I’m not nervous. I’m not nervous. He mentally said to himself in a failed attempt to convince himself it was true. What he was about to do could be equated with treason under the right microscope, but he had to do it. He would never be able to live with himself otherwise.

As the doors to the bridge opened he clenched his left fist, a nervous habit he’d never been able to shake. The customary “Captain on the bridge!” sounded and all the crew stood at attention.

“At ease.” He said to them as he moved to his station. “Mr. **** please bring us to a full stop. Mr. ***** please prepare for a ship-wide announcement.”

The helmsman responded with a “Yes, sir.” while several other crew members looked at each other in curiosity. They were nowhere near their assigned destination and bringing the ship to a full stop would put them behind schedule.

It can’t be helped. The captain thought to himself. Once the ship had been brought to a full stop he gave the signal to turn on the ship’s announcement system. He took a deep breath, stood to his full height, and spoke.

“Ladies and gentlemen, this is your captain. As you should know by now, we have been ordered to ***** to assist The ****** in her mission there. However, in light of recent information, I believe it is in the best moral and ethical interests of this ship and its crew to disobey that order. I cannot disclose more details at this time; all I can ask is that you trust me. The less you know, the safer you will be from any repercussions that may arise. The actions we will take will very likely be considered treason. Therefore if there are any among you who do not wish to risk that outcome please notify your division officer directly and you will be released from duty with no repercussions from me or any crew who remain. You will be dropped off on ***** and notation placed in your file stating your stand. This offer applies to my officers as well. I know I am asking a lot from you at this moment, and I wish I could tell you more. You have one hour to decide and pack your things. It has been an honor serving with you all. If I am needed, I will be in my quarters.”

He had to keep himself from practically running of the bridge and down the halls to his quarters.

>>> 

                About an hour later the bell from his door rang, announcing someone standing outside it.

                “Enter.” Capt. **** said, not rising from the chair he was sitting in or looking away from the nothingness he was staring at. A glass sat, full and untouched, on the small table beside him. His XO entered and stood a few paces away, hands clasped behind his back, waiting until he was addressed.

                Capt. **** looked up at him in silent acknowledgement. His Lt. Co. **** had been at his side since their days in the academy. He was the strange sort of man who was content with following one man rather than leading many.

                “I have fifteen people waiting in the shuttle bay waiting to be dropped off.” **** told him. His face and tone betrayed no contempt or disdain, just a simple statement of facts.

                “Only fifteen?” the captain asked, stunned. He commanded a ship of hundreds. It was sobering to think there might be that many willing to blindly trust him in the upcoming endeavor.

                “Only fifteen, sir.” His XO confirmed, smiling.

                “I’m not sure I understand why you’re smiling, XO.” **** told him, a look of confusion crossing his face.

                The man’s smile broadened. “I’m smiling at your surprise, Sir.”

                **** raised an eyebrow.

                “You were so surprised that only fifteen out of hundreds decided to leave. You’re the greatest captain the fleet has. Not just mentally, but morally as well and the crew knows it. The fifteen who are leaving are the cadets we took on a few months ago, and that’s fifteen of forty. Everyone else trusts your judgment and is willing to face whatever fallout there may be from that decision. If you say we need to disobey orders, then we are willing to do so. I know I speak for the rest of the crew when I say, we would follow you into hell itself if you led us there.” **** stood to his full height, shoulders back as he made the last statement, pride evident in his posture and tone.

                Capt. ***** looked at him in mild shock and incredulity, unable to speak. He had always tried to do what was right, not caring about the consequences. Even still, he would have never imagined that philosophy to inspire the type of loyalty and trust he was being shown. He didn’t deserve it. No one did.

                ***** forced himself to swallow, wetting a dry throat, and spoke. “Are we ready to head for ***?”

                “Already on our way sir.” His XO replied. “I gave the order before I came here. We should reach **** in two hours.”

                “Very well.” The captain said, breathing deeply and regaining his composure. He stood and brought out another glass. Then he addressed his *****, “Take a seat, and I’ll explain what I have in mind.”

They Changed the World

                “Um-excuse me, sir?”

                Sorvar had been staring down at his mug, contemplating drinking from it. The high-pitched voice addressing him broke the liquid’s trance. He looked up through red-rimmed eyes to see a scrawny half-elf looking at him.

                “I got no spare change, kid. Scram.” He mumbled in a gruff voice, glancing back down at his mug.

                “I-don’t need money.” The kid stammered. “I was just wondering if I can sit at your table….all the other seats are taken.”

                Sorvar glanced up at the boy again, studying him for a moment, taking in the worn travel clothes and mussed blonde-brown hair. There was something familiar about this kid. As he studied, he met the boy’s eyes. The slate-grey eyes pierced through him. He had seen those eyes before. They were the reason he was here, drinking himself to unconsciousness…again.

                Even though he knew it was extremely unwise, he still couldn’t stop himself from whispering her name, “Faelynn…..”

                The kid gave him a shocked look, “What did you say?”

                “Nothin’.” Sorvar slurred. “Now go away.” The last thing he needed was Faelynn Stormbringer’s son (Faerin, wasn’t it?) asking questions he didn’t want to remember the answers to.

                The kid ignored his gruff request and sat down anyway. “You said ‘Faelynn.’” He exclaimed in a tone not quite a yell. “Were you referring to Faelynn Stormbringer?”

                The noise in the inn seemed to lessen as people took notice of the kid’s outburst.  People were staring at them. Many of those stares were not friendly.

“That’s not a name you want to be shouting in a place like this, kid.” Sorvar said, an edge of warning in his voice.

                The kid’s face turned a shade of red, and he seemed to shrink in on himself. “Sorry.” He mumbled. “I just….I know so little about her…I thought…..” he broke off as he lowered his gaze and began fiddle with an amulet he had pulled from under his shirt. They sat in silence for several minutes as the other patrons resumed their previous conversations.

                “She was beautiful, smart, and deadly, kid.” Sorvar grumbled finally. “There’s not much more to know. Even her closest friends couldn’t tell you more than that.”

The kid’s head shot up. “Wait. You knew her, didn’t you? Personally?” his eyes were lit up like bonfires.

“I knew all of them,” He murmured over the lip of his mug, pausing before drinking. “At least, I thought I did. Once.  A long time ago.”  Sorvar took a long drink from his mug and practically dropped back onto the table. It made a dull thud as it landed.

“What were they like?” the kid asked, curiosity and awe evident in his voice.

Some crumpled copy of a smile crossed his face. “They were going to change the world.”

Outside the inn, in kingdoms and cities near and far, the world burned.