Songs of fire and light

Chapter 1: Prince of fools

                  ~3rd pov~

 How pure and crisp the morning air was. A clear bright sky beside a few fluffy pink clouds flowing through the ever-changing atmosphere.  The morning dew slumps from the blossoming buds, until two passing shades cross their path.

In the distance, an angry man’s voice heeded, “Prince Leon!” His most devoted and oldest vessel Evander called in fright. A now old man once feared upon the battlefield. Stood strong alongside the king, rewarded the title of the king’s blade. Awarded by his king for years’ loyal service, bravery, and intelligence. He appointed the aging man, guardian of his third and most favored son, Leon. When the young boy, elected by rite his own immense turf at age ten. Dubbed after his son, Leones

The young prince of Zion urged his stallion faster through the soft grasslands. Fade into the dense forest that stood strong between him and his desired destination. His loyal friend close behind, rode his own horse. Still trying to ascertain their return. Sergius muttered a silent complaint, rendered by his master’s foolish whim. 

I should know better after all these years. Men don’t call his highness; the prince of fools without reason. 

Up ahead he saw his prince galloping, maneuvering through the dense cultivated foliage. Besides his dark bay with black manes, another black creature raged faithful alongside its master. Helios, a  hellwolf, a creature made in darkness and emblem of the Kelila clan. Rulers of the Zion empire.

Any endowed the gift of being a Kelila heir, gifted with a wolf of their own at a very young age. Born from his ancestor’s companion. Raised as one. The lesser viewed gifted to generals and commanders. 

A full-grown beast near the size of a small horse. Loyal to serve their master from birth till death. Their souls bound for eternity. 

By rite, Leon received his hound, sentiment of his birth, over thirteen years ago. Ever since they’ve been inseparable.  Even sharing the lord’s king-sized bed. An unbreakable bond born the moment fiery red eyes met cold greys. 

Nearing the edge of the forest, Leon ordered his precious pet to remain behind. The wolf heeded and sprinted away, hunting down some rabbits silly enough to cross his path. His master and friend stayed close, trotting together into the clearing. Towards a worn-out shed, keen to fall apart if not for the neat yellow timbers against the aged dark brown. The wide doors opened, welcoming them with its regular squeaks. 

A small group of children, ages four to fifteen, swarmed the horses. As their riders bound them in their usual spot. A small layer of molded straw waiting.

 “You are late.” A thick voice hinted. One of the older kids stepped from the shadows, a young girl caring for a small infant by his side. Jean and Jane, siblings, in charge of this group of orphans of war and poverty. The barn belonged to their family long ago. Now it’s the only building left from a once large flourishing heritage. A barn, made of rotting wood and a pale cow that hardly gives adequate milk for them all. Over twenty children and counting live in this place, waiting to collapse. The J siblings found them on the brink of death, too young, left to wither away as do so many in this troubled age. 

One of many causes behind the title, the prince of fools. his kind demeanor towards those beneath his status no matter how low. Play with servant children, returning home in muddied clothes, after inciting another ruckus in town with the local thugs.

“Hold that sharp tongue, never forget who you are conversing with. Respect your prince.” Sergius grinds his teeth, the audacity of these low lives to speak in such a disrespectful manner against one blessed with royal blood. They Deserve the whip for their crimes and be grateful his highness even spares a sole moment of his valuable time. 

“Do not speak to him in such a manner, Sergius.” The prince spoke in his monotonous voice. One, his friend  knew he used when annoyed, a warning to not make things worse. When certain the message conveyed, the prince turned towards the siblings. “Sorry, -” that word earned a click of the tongue from his loyal companion. “-that irking old man wouldn’t leave me alone.” Leon scratched the back of his head, giving them a sheepish smile, hoping they’d let it slide.

From the side, his truest friend groaned and hung his head in defeat. His shoulder-length ashen hair fell before his closing blue-green eyes for the disgrace he witnessed, a prince asking for forgiveness from hoodlums... He truly is the prince of fools. 

Have known the prince since birth, being only one when the prince was born. His mother appointed as the young scoundrel his wet nurse. The good woman perished some winters ago. Nonetheless, the young man stayed beside his prince on his command. For one born of royal, it’s harder to find a loyal ally than a poisonous serpent within the elevated class. 

He’ll never change... Defeated Sergius stopped back. 

For the last few years, Leon and the group of orphans been banding together in crime. Much too Sergius dismay. The prince of fools never was one to keep himself from his own desires, no matter how selfish. Nor does he ever thinks of the unrest left behind in his wake. No, the prince of fools always makes himself the star of any saga, never intending to stand idle and watch the tides of fate rush by. 

~

With the smaller children left behind, have at home. Leon and a few older children hid in the bushes growing wild beside a sandy road leading to Zion’s capital. Remaining unseen, they eagerly await the arrival of their target. 

A merchant carriage, burdened with various delights to fill one’s vacant stomach. The bulky coachman called both mounts to a standstill when faced by an unforeseen hurdle on the road. A narrow tree laid inconvenient across the road. Thanks to Leon and Jean’s hard work. Although the lack of density of the tree’s trunk it took them both some time. Taking turns, due to the rusted, blunt axe they had. 

Two armed guards on horseback halted beside the grumpy coachman, hearing the man’s complaints. The guards simple shook off his grievances and headed out to discard the cause of his seeming never easing disgruntled state. His loud booming voice doused any other as simple background noise. One being the silent whispers behind their backs. Where the youngsters vanished, each holding a full bag filled with spoils of plunder. Hiding in a nick of time between the shrubs, before the guards got back in line and the party went back on with their way. None the wiser of carrying a somewhat lighter load. 

With their bags filled for the day, the young bandits stepped out of hiding and shared a victorious laugh. Eyeing the catch, they knew their self-made clan would have their belly round for at least another day. Their laughter paraded over the forest, sharing their song of victory. 

“Hey Leon, have you heard of the spirit of the forest?” One of the younger boys inquired. 

With his brow frowned he replied, “spirit of the forest? No, never. What’s it about?” Sergius, close behind, let out a groan. It didn’t take more than a second before he knew his lord's interest had been teased. 

“Well,…” the boy tried explaining only to find himself interrupted by another. “-Will, you’re not babbling on about that wood which, again. Are you? Those men were just messing with yah.” The boy hung his arm over the smaller frame, the pressure of his weight forced down nearly had the boy tumble. 

“Cut it out.” Leon glared at the older one, who moved swift away from the pair and their fantasies. “Tell me more.” He urged, his trickster smile in place.  

“They say…” The boy told him of the sung hymns in the village pubs, sacres mothers told their unruly young and further idle gossip without cause.   

Returning to the old barn, the group met a face foreign to the prince. A young man near his age, wild ginger hairs sticking to his face and bright brown eyes flashed them a broad grin. “Hey Jean, look what I got my hands on!” he yelled loud, boasting off the trinkets piled in his arms. 

Jean broke from the group, ahead to inspect the stranger’s winnings. “These are quite nice and will fetch a hefty price. Reiner, well done.” Giving the boy a rough pat on the arm, they headed inside. Sharing their winnings with one another. 

“A hefty price indeed they will pay, for they’ve gone astray and taunted a power that has no equal within these lands. May our Lord have mercy upon their souls and grant them a swift death.” Sergius regretted with a heavy heart. For his master would sure hurt when he learns of their fall and could do nothing in their defense.

 “Such lovely trinkets wherever did an orphaned boy found those?” Leon inquired with doubt. His sights dropped from brown orbs, full bitterness, on precious trinkets clasped tight. 

“Who wishes to hear, I have not seen you here before?” The young man inquired, his eyes narrowed on the young prince and his follower. Distrust clear on his features. His target never fleeing his challenging sight. Met with the arrogant smugness only one of royal blood can bare, meeting the dare without wary. 

“Please call it a tie and come inside.” Jane let out a sigh, getting sick and tired of men and their childish play. Boys truly stay a child at heart no matter their age or stage of the play. Leaving the youths out to play their little game.  As the oldest of them all, she ushered the youngest inside and set about making them some nice dinner with the food they had gathered. 

Jean laughed at his sister grunting. Marched between the death glares himself. “Calm down, both of you. Leon, Sergius, -” he broke the tension and hung his arm over the stranger’s shoulder. “-this is Reiner. Our newest member.” he announced proud, turning back to the sourpuss at hand. “Reiner, this is Lord Leon and his servant Sergius. Another one of our friend and helper in crime.”

Leon smiled warmly, extending his hand in search of friendship. Reiner glared at the young prince. His hatred for those from noble birth flamed deep within his soul. Tugged up his nose for the prince’s gesture and stomped off inside with his haul clutched tight. 

“Don’t mind him, he’ll turn around.” Jean’s eyes fell, a shade of sorrow washing over them. “Like us all, he’s been through a lot. His father perished in your father’s last war. Put him and his mother penniless until illness claimed her overnight. The poor boy lost his family and home in mere months, not even a year. so please show the poor lad some kindness I know you bare.” 

Leon watched troubled from the sideline as the others count their haul. 

No matter how much he wanted, he could not heed Jean’s request. “How can I be kind if he’ll be the cause of your fall?” The prince hardened steel gaze found their way back to one he called a friend. Who tried to contain the shock from his face. Never before had he laid eyes upon the charade called a prince. Cold, void of any sentiment, the prince proceeded. “You know rather well where those treasures came from, do you not?” His question needed no answer, his friends avoiding gaze verified what he had already surmised himself. 

With sorrow in his heart, he said what he must, “This was the last time since there is no more trust.” With that said, Leon and Sergius gathered their horses and met Helios who laid on his back in the forest. His stomach bulged, full of mammals he caught during the wait. 

Their short ride felt a lifetime. The sense of treachery laid heavy on Leon's chest. 

Sergius broke the silence, speaking words of comfort straight from the heart. “I am truly sorry my lord. Even as I disliked your frolicking with their kind. I never wish for your bound to break in such distasteful manner.” Falling to deaf ears, Leon moved forward without a word. The wounds of betrayed still too fresh for remedies. 

~

Days passed. The young prince detected his focus on other matters, rather than what he lost once more. 

One day Sergius made his way through the castle halls. A castle much like any other, made of cold stone and dark timbers. The cold whiffs of winter bled through the tiniest cracks, toying with the burning fires that flared bright. Trying to fight anything dark and cold. Yet they never seemed to achieve to do so. 

 Large halls, endowed with paintings of faces he’s known all his life. Yet never met. Nor did his prince. Royals with tales, one bloodier than another, all marching the same path as those before. All ending in failure to capture the divine rule. Only ending with a slight bigger claim than before, left for the heirs to hold and grow. 

Up ahead he noticed a faint light slip past the half-open double door from the prince’s private library. High walls behind overfilled bookcases, carrying books from across the world. Different speeches that speak of foreign lands. The perfect hiding place for the young prince. 

Sergius peeked past the door where Leon sat. Tilt back in his brown leather chair beside an ever-burning fireplace. Book in hand. A drop spilled from the wild sea of books his father gifted. Collected in distant lands of myths long forgotten. Merchants bribes from foreign lands, a sweetening during trade commerce. 

 Between king Theodric and his three sons, only he and Leon had a fascination with all things foreign. Which, is one reason he granted his son his own domain to be with Zion’s largest harbor. Where each day new merchant dock from far-away countries, that carry tales of their own. 

As a young lad, Leon would rush off to find new travelers to meet. Eager for stories of faraway desserts, stunning lights dancing in the sky and entire islands made of nothing but ice. That was at least if he understood their foreign murmurs. Fortunate most speak common tongue and could always spare some time to butter up the prince of a distant land. 

This was his hiding place. Silent and lonesome the prince focus dwelled on his book. Given no sign of detecting his friend arrival, until another voice broke the spell of a good tale. “My lord, there is someone here to request an audience with you.” The well-seasoned mentor bowed before his lord. Evander scraped his throat, a none too subtle manner, demanding his lord’s attention. 

Annoyed already, Leon sighed deep. Closing his book with a loud clap before placing it safe beside him on a small side table. “Whoever it is, better have adequate reason to unsettle my nerves. For my mercy lays thin for worthless gatherings.” Sharing already his regular irritation with his friend. Seated polar of him in an identical seat as his own. Noticed the creaking floorboards when the lousy intruder built its way. Leon never relished in protocol or ruling a country. After all, he is only the third son. Hence has no need for such tiresome acts. 

His annoyance grew when he perceived the face that dared to intrude his precious time. Valen, a strong shape after a bear entered the room. His black hair and beard unkempt, muscles bulging against black leather armor. A silver howling wolf sign engraved upon his chest. The royal family crest. 

Leon groaned, without having spoken he knew what would be and he did not like it one bit. With much reluctance, he stopped up to give the man a descent greeting.  Detected the leather chair beside him groan, a tell Sergius hung near and didn’t like it either. Trouble had appeared and Valen, being a loyal general of his father, put him high in command. even he can not act against his fathers rule.  

Leon hid his annoyance, turning back into his usual neutral self. “What brings you here, general Valen? Better make it snappy, my time is precious and does not desire to waste away over trifle matters.” Valen bowed before his prince. The large bear of a man’s trembled before sudden tilting his head backwards in a barking laughter. 

What the ...? Sergius thought, confused by the act. He looked towards his company and met their disregard of the matter that troubled him so. Why is he laughing? What’s so funny?  He could not for the life of him remember the prince together with the general. Had they met before?

“My prince, it’s been a while has if not and yet you are still much the same.” The laughter died out, replaced by a stern gaze. “My prince, your father send me and a few of our newest members on a serious quest here in the forest near the harbor. That is why I ask of you for commendation during our duty.” 

“Do as you wish, I care not. Only make sure your worthless muds do not disrupt my peace.” Leon answered coldly. With a dismissive wave of the hand he plopped back in his seat. Picked up his book and returned to his reading. Dismissing the discussion. 

Bowing his head. “Of course, my prince, you have my word.” 

“Great, why not begin straight away and remove that drooling mud from my precious carpet? Woven of the finest silk known to man.” Leon never lingered from his book, only giving a dismissive wave. Directed at a boy hidden behind the general, his mouth shameless agape. The boy had been so noiseless, neither Sergius nor Evander had taken notice of him. Until the boy jumped before the prince and bowed deep, his head touched the carpet. 

“Please forgive me, my lord. I only wanted to meet you. General Valen often talks of your skills in battle.” The boy was young, perhaps even younger than Leon. Without any real muscle, tiny and frail, indeed, not someone fit for the battlefield. From down on the ground, his bright brown eyes peeked out between his roughly cut ash-blonde hair. Cut by either himself or perhaps a prank, thought the prince. Cut short and longer in strange places, what a strange boy did Valen bring here.

“Please forgive my imprudence, my lord. My name is Yaghen and one day I will be your most exquisite general!” His eyes lit up in the games of determination, never flinching when the prince tested with his own. Their exchange viewed by those present in the room, in silence. 

The spell broke, “do as you desire, I care not. Now leave my sight, you discourteous pup.” Leon dismissed them with a flick of the wrist and returned to his book. Yaghen jumped in the air for a foolish leap towards his prince, in a true act of a poor trained mutt. The foolish pup could thank the stars for Valen’s quick save. Irritated, the general dragged him along, back out. Excuse themselves, left the prince alone with his books and a stunned friend. Never noticing the inner turmoil within the prince. 

~

In the dead of night, shrouded with darkness, a black shadow moved near unseen through the forest. On a secret delivery for his master.

His master gazed out from his bedroom window. The sky was veiled, both star and moon had closed their careful watch from the heavens for that night's events. 

A knock on the door pulled from his troubled mind. Without pause his mentor dares enter. “My lord, what troubles you on this warm summers eve?” Evander asked carefully, a question held behind closed doors. Destined for their ears alone. 

“Nothing,” Leon aswered in a blend of boredom that turned towards eagerness as he continued. “Say, Evander? Have you ever hear of a spirit in the forest? They say it lies on the northwest side of Zion.”

“Than it would be beside your elder brother, Rodric’s lands.” The mentor asled his pupil and lord careful. Looked over his masters shoulder to catch a glance of his expression reflected in the window. 

The animosity between all three brothers was no secret between castle walls. Both elders knew of their father’s favor towards his youngest son. Unlike their mother who shunned him since infancy. Too odd for her liking. His kindness towards strangers and those born below their status. Ordinary people or even servants children. Status never mattered for him, more if one could intrigue his feeble interest. 

“Yes it would.”

Unlike most in this castle, Evander would be the only one brave enough to challenge his lord and his foolishness. “Don’t even think of going over there, stirring unneeded unrest for sake of a children’s tale.” The man, too old for this sort, made his objection known. Even with his mentor fuming, the fool could not help from being amused though. The man had spirit, even for his age and he admired him for it. 

“Fine, I won’t.” A smirk bled into his words. Reflected by the window’s reflection.