Philippe of Morgarath

Chapter Five

Christophe looked at his younger brother with disgust. 'You are planning to do what?' he yelled. 'Find Muerthalls?' he did not like the confident face Philippe was wearing. 'Philippe, Muerthalls do not exist. They have been extinct for many, many years. I do not care what some crazy guy at a tavern told you, they no longer exist. And I will not let you hunt some fantasy, just because you're not ready to do your duty to the family.'

Philippe growled at his brother. 'I am not trying to escape duty, Christophe', he defended himself. 'What if the story is not fake. What if it's true what Reagon said, and the Muerthalls are genuinely regrouping. You have read the story too, you know we hunted them off of their land. Morwerth had been their home for many, many generations, before we took it from them.'

Christophe laughed. 'Before we took it back from them, you mean?' he said amused. 'Muerthalls are monsters, they have horns, claws. They can not speak, and they are wild. They are not sophisticated like us, and should not be feared. Do you know why?' he looked at his little brother 'Because they are extinct.' Christophe made sure to put a lot of emphasis on the last word, making Philippe shake his head.

'And what do you base your facts on, brother?' Philippe slowly changed from defense, to offense. 'You speak of hearsay, I speak of hearsay. But do we not have an obligation to the people to make sure they are safe, protected?'

Christophe put his arms together and looked away. Silence formed a wall between them. He broke it after a couple of minutes with a deep sigh. 'You know what, little brother', he told Philippe. 'Why don't you go speak to father. Maybe he will talk some sense in to you.' His sarcasm made Philippe roll his eyes.

'It's a good thing you're not regent yet, then', he scoffed at Christophe, before leaving the room annoyed.

He didn't understand Christophe. Yes, he was right, Philippe was not looking forward to the life that has been planned for him from the day he was born. He wanted to go out, see the world. And he knew for a fact that Chris felt the same. When they were younger, all they did was fantasize what the world would be like outside of Morwerth. What the other islands would look like, and what the main land would be like. Did Christophe lose all of his wishes for adventure, when his training progressed? Is this what happened to his father too, that made him dull, and boring?

He felt like he needed to hit something. And he knew exactly what he wanted to do. He walked outside the castle, to the back of the Flowergarden. A big wooden stick stuck out of the floor. He took his sword from the scabbard, and started slamming it into the wood.

It took him quite some time before he heard the soft, gentle voice, say his name. He paused his sword mid-air, and turned his face towards the sound. He saw his young fiancée. The look in her eyes showed that she was impressed, but also a bit scared. 'Are you okay?' she said gently. Her hair was pinned to her head, and her big blue eyes looked at him with curiosity. She was wearing a dress that moved in the wind.

A minute passed, before he moved. His head cleared of any thought, as he dropped his sword. He walked over to her in three big steps, put his hand behind her neck, lifted her face and kissed her.

It took a while before he even realized what he did.

He let her go, and saw that she was flushed. Her big eyes were opened even wider and it looked like she was frozen in time.

'Llona...' he said slowly, thinking of a way to apologize to her, but she turned around and ran away.

---

He didn't know exactly how long he had stayed outside. The sun had been high for a while, but was close to going down by now. His face was wet from sweat, and his hard pounded heavily from the work-out. He was panting and purposely tried to suppress all thoughts that tried to go through his head. The big wooden pole was heavily damaged and Philippe knew it would need replacement after today.

He still couldn't keep the images of Christophe's disgust, and Llona's shame, out of his head. He felt misunderstood, and lonely. If only he could pack his things, and leave. It hurt that Christophe did not take his side. It hurt that his brother pretended that whatever Phil was thinking was preposterous, and outrageous. He was not asking for that much, just the freedom to figure out why he had to grow up without a mother.

From a young age, he had looked up to his older brother. They had five summers inbetween them, and because of that Chris had always been the older, and bigger one. In body, and in mind. They used to play a lot as children, but when they both had to undergo separate training, their close bond quickly became distant. Christophe was being trained strategically, he had to go to official meetings, learn how to be proper. Whilst Phil's training was physical. For the first time in his life, he was the bigger brother. But that was purely in muscle and stamina.

Philippe never understood why suddenly his brother became so static. He stopped having fun, never understood his jokes anymore. He refused to do anything that he wasn't supposed to, and he made Philippe feel ridiculous for being so muscular. It seemed to Phil like every chance Christophe had, he would mention how physical strength is nothing, compared to mental strength.

Like it was a competition, for crying out loud. What Philippe wouldn't give to not become general. Like he could choose to do what he wanted to do himself. No.

With renewed anger and strength Philippe lifted his sword up again, and slammed back into the wood. And a second time. And a third.

'Philippe of Morgarath', he heard spontaneously. He turned around, while lifting the sword. Completely out of breath, he stopped the sword right above the head of a lackey, who lost all colour in his face. 'Your... your father', the lackey said with a dry mouth. Philippe took his sword back, put it in the scabbard and gave the lackey one firm nod, after which he waltzed back in to the castle.

When Philippe reached his father's door, he did not wait to be announced. He pushed the doors open and stormed into the room.

Malowèn looked up from the noise. Phil's shirt was sweaty, he sounded out of breath, and he stunk a lot. Nonetheless Malowen decided to instantly say what was on his mind. 'Philippe, my son. Christophe told me that you want to leave us?'

The anger Philippe had towards his older brother became even worse than it already was. 'Christophe probably did not even tell you the full story', he said, instantly defending himself. He turned away from his father, made a fist and slammed it in to the wall. 'You will never understand me', he yelled at the regent.

Malowen did not seem impressed with Philippe's sign of frustration. 'Son, I-', he said, but Philippe spoke before he could finish his sentence: 'I do not care if you support me or not, it is my decision. I have to do this... I', he couldn't find the words.

Thankfully Malowen did. 'I will not cancel your commitment to the Kwarth girl', Malowen stated like a proper regent. 'But', he continued in a fatherly voice. 'I will not stop you from finding justice. If you think this is something you need to do, before you can take on your obligations, than so be it.'

Never before had Philippe been blown away by his father's words. He felt his mouth drop and did not know what to say.

'But you will go alone', the regent continued. 'I will not allow you to take any of the troops, nor your brother. This is something I want you to figure out by yourself.'

Philippe looked at his father, waiting for the other shoe to drop. 'I.. I do not understand', he couldn't find the right words.

Malowen clicked with his tongue. 'I have been young too, Philippe. I know you have a lot of responsibilities and even though you think you are old, I assure you that you are not.' Then Philippe saw his face become very serious. 'But let me get one thing straight. The commitment will happen before you leave. You will commit, and you will conceive. Only then will I allow you to leave.'