Although their heads were close to one another as each supported one of his arms, Ambrose could only faintly make out the cries from Eleanor and the curses from Giovani. Behind them, the whole world seemed to roar and rumble, coupled with the sound of many branches snapping and breaking as the swirling vortex of violent wind stole from the trees. They were moving away from it, albeit with much difficulty as nature beckoned them backward, the resistance straining each step. Giovani nearly tripped, causing them all to nearly fall, before regaining his balance and helping them to press forward and away from the scene.
Ambrose did not see as Giovani dropped his dagger to the ground, missing his shadow the first time. It was at that moment he stumbled to beckon it back to his hand, where it instantly returned. Dropping it again, the dagger found his shade and disappeared as they moved forward.
What Ambrose had seen, as he looked over his shoulder, gave him both great relief and much to consider; he had known of tornados, their ability to move at speeds faster than two purebred horses combined as well as move unpredictably, and yet this storm was remaining in place. The two strong invaders that had been the cause of everything this day were trapped inside of it, and no part of him wished for their good health.
Inside the eye of the storm, Veronica and Sebastian were not yet mortally harmed; the branches in the storm had reached out with sharp fingers moving at incredible speeds, attacking and ripping at clothing and exposed skin. It caused both fighters to draw nearer to one another, a prospect Veronica knew was her disadvantage.
“Stop this Sebastian!” She yelled as loudly as possible against the storm, her voice lost in it, “We have been tricked, we-”
Sebastian opened his mouth as if yelling, for he had, but she could not hear. He lashed out once again, his blade cutting vertically through the air, and once again she fell to the ground to dodge the attack. But this time, with the swirling vortex confining them to a small, deadly arena, she had no place to go. Sebastian did not need pupils in his eyes to portray the murderous look he gave her. She looked up at the huge man, her whip in hand and yet unable to conjure any more effort to escape his attack. She was left to raise one open hand, halting and pleading as Sebastian brought his blade high above his head with one hand. His face softened slightly, hesitating as he worded something she could not hear. She stared at the corners of his white eyes, seeing the tears and realizing they were not brought on by the dirt she had thrown. Even with the chance at her disposal, Veronica stared at her demise with both wonder and a terrified preparation.
That was when the true iron greatsword fell. But it did not fall where Sebastian intended, as the blade was dropped to the earth behind him, Sebastian’s severed right hand and part of his wrist still grasping it. It wasn’t instant that the pain took hold of the man, as he moved his arm unbelievingly in front of his face to find the bloodied and spurting stump that had now ended his arm.
Veronica saw as his pupils began to fade back, but before they could they began to roll behind and into his head. He swayed, before beginning to fall where Veronica was lying. She was able to roll out of his way, as the man fell to the ground with what should have been a clamorous thud, but it too was stolen by the sound of the maddening wind around them.
She did not hesitate; pouncing on his body, Veronica unleashed her whip but with no intention of harming the man. She grabbed his right arm, which bled profusely on the ground, and in her hand, taking the whip and tying it a few inches from where his hand was sliced off. It was a clean-cut that did the work, the culprit being obvious in her mind. It had been Gio no doubt, and although she was neither grateful nor displeased with his action, she found herself perplexed, wondering why he would save her after everything.
She tightened the impromptu torquenet with all her strength, and as she did she rose her chin high. Satisfied, her chin remained up, and her gaze stared through the eye of the storm they found themselves in. She let his limp arm fall then, the blood only slightly trickling now. She had more hope in Sebastian’s ability to recover than she did for both of them to survive the storm. The whole world was clouded, darkened even though it was still bright on the other side. She saw as massive limbs of trees whirled around, in then out of sight as the winds reclaimed them, with seemingly an infinite amount of debris and nature trapped along with it. It was both terrifying and surreal, the last sight she saw before the black exhaustion began to creep into the corners of her vision.
Veronica Visconti wondered if it had all been for naught, her efforts leading to this fate. She did not fear death, only feared the death of her destiny. Though the ignorant could not understand, she had intended to be a savior, conquering a spoil from the action. But now it seemed the calamity she wished to end had already come to end her, aided by Queen Whitewood, her sole living family, and a strange imposter. Her last thoughts were soothing, imagining their deaths at her hands. She fell limp onto Sebastian's chest as the storm pressed inwards.
<><><><><>
“Alright Your Highness,” Giovani started, his breath labored, “I believe we should come up with a plan before-”
“There is no time to plan! My country needs me!” Eleanor replied from a few yards in front, her stride determined. Her calves and the backs of her arms were red on her pale skin, the scratches and cuts doing their toll.
“Yes but can’t we rest for a moment?” Ambrose added, hopping with more effort now without the use of a second shoulder to lean on.
Eleanor slowed with an aggravated sigh, “You’re brave for speaking against your Queen, Ambrose. But I’ll make the exception. Just a moment though!”
They had made it nearly out of the woods, walking for nearly two hours along the single path. The mid-afternoon sun cast a bronze-orange hue through the trees they now sat under, far less dense than where they had left Sebastian and Veronica. Many casts over the shoulder had been given between the three of them since then, and only less than a half hour ago did they finally come far away enough to lose all sound and notice of the storm that had continued.
For Ambrose, the rest now was both well needed and yet unnecessary; the second wind he felt was strong still, revitalized by excitement and his success. He had no worries for the path ahead, as his coin had suggested their victory oncoming, and believed their only foes of concern to be behind them. If he did need any further inspiration, looking forward to seeing his resolute and unmalleable Queen scorch the trail with determination was all he had to do.
Broaching whether the two enemies had met their demise had been on the forefront of his mind, but decided it better to test that water with Gio. His friend had told him he didn’t want to encourage his sister’s death, but with Ambrose seeing the force of the storm so close, any fear that the two were well and in pursuit of them was more paranoid than probable. If Giovani had felt the same thought slip into his mind, he hadn’t shown it, opting the entire way until now to be animated with the delight of his newfound goal.
“I can’t wait to see the looks on those soldiers' faces!” Giovani said, taking a boot off and shaking the debris from out of it, “I bet they’re drunk and boasting, not a care in the world, but we’ll give them a shock for sure! Ho ho!”
Eleanor did not sit, breaking from a slow, thoughtful pace to whirl on Sebastian, her face hardened, “You will not need to do anything. That is a command. While I appreciate Ambrose’s efforts today, I can only half appreciate yours since the morning saw you on the invader's side, if you recall. And I won’t need Ambrose’s help either, for this is my city now and my city to win back. Feel free to spectate but not interfere.”
Giovani put his hands up in surrender, “OK your righteousness, I hear and can obey. Though I hope you will forgive me should I thwart your failure. I can surely sit idle while you play hero, but I can not watch on if you are to be threatened. That would pretty much ruin everything, you know.”
“I will not fail!” Eleanor said, an accusing finger pointing at the man's face, “Don’t patronize me with these words of protection. I can protect-”
“Oh please, get over yourself, darling. If you think your beauty or title gives me a reason, you’re quite wrong; the former is of no interest to my desires, and the latter should give me more reason to see your harm than your health. I’m no fan of people in power, for what great power they think they hold is always far too little when I have this blade pressed to their throat.” Shooting out of the ground then was Giovani’s blade, all three watching it fly highly above their heads, before descending and being caught between Gio’s pointer and middle finger.
Ambrose rose from the charade, “Stop your tongue right there, Gio. You’re not going to speak to her like that and expect-”
“Ambrose!” Eleanor said, her finger moving to his startled face, “Once again, I do not ask you to protect me any further. I am more than capable of dealing with his empty words.” Circling back to Gio, amusement evident in his laughing smile, Eleanor asked, “Give me your straight answer to this or turn now without welcome back to Runswick for life; why do you need to protect me?”
Giovani rolled his eyes, shaking his head, “You mean you don’t know either? Good grief! What I was tasked with and know is that you are, as of today at least, the only Whitewood descendant alive. Your blood and name carry an important role in the future, and yet that role is a bit lost on me as well. High Hillford and the sketchy priest know what that is, and I would have learned too upon delivering you. But it seems my heart has grown while my brain has decayed, because now here we are with our heads in the sand!” Giovani rose, looking as frustrated as his whimsical face could allow.
Eleanor didn’t back away and turned the words over in her head without replying. Ambrose watched as her face softened into realization, but she spun on a heel and turned as it did.
This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road. If you spot it on Amazon, please report it.
“So Runswick was a casualty today just because of the name Whitewood?” Ambrose asked.
“Precisely friend! Should it be SilverAcre, or Estonia, or even if Bishop Paulo had told us of groceries needed at the market, we would have stormed there. But Whitewood it was, and three weeks or so ago when we were told, the operation began!”
As Ambrose continued, Eleanor stilled in front of them, “Three weeks ago? But you’ve been a barkeep at the Barrels Bottom for nearly nine months!”
“I’m telling you friend, either that Bishop has led us very astray or he knows much more than he is ever willing to let on. My sister-” Giovani stopped, coughing out a choke before continuing, “Well she didn’t mind High Hillford like I did. So that priest allowed me to leave while remaining connected to the plot, suggesting that if I should go anywhere it be Runswick. So long ago that feels, and yet I can remember what he said.
“‘The last true King presided there a millennium ago, and we shall make this new King the endmost one yet. Go there in waiting, I believe there will come a time that the King acts abruptly and oddly, should a message from me come near that time know that everything is set in motion.’ So after many months of playing the part of barkeep, your father comes out and speaks of ill tidings to come, pleading for more ranks to come to his defense. That very same day I was visited by a wandering priest, only to find that it was Paulo’s voice resonating from him! Unnerving to be sure, yet quite an impressive power! Poor sap died right after, remember the news of the dead priest on the road? That was him!”
“You mean when the King held an announcement? That was the day things started?”
“I do believe these things started quite a while ago, but once again I am no scholar nor historian. But it was the day that Bishop had seemed to be waiting eagerly for.”
Eleanor turned, her gaze cast down and her fists balled. Ambrose noticed her shaking at the shoulders, “Is something wrong, Eleanor?”
“This Bishop,” Eleanor started without looking up, “Does he possess a diamond?”
Giovani tilted his head, “Oh the old geezer is surely hoarding some wealth! Organized religion is quite the business, and I’ve heard of some robes of jewel encrusted-”
“Never mind!” Eleanor barked at him, turning once again.
Ambrose and Giovani were left to look at one another, confused yet shrugging it off. Giovani added, “Well enough about them and diamonds, I have one better topic! For I believe there is a topic of historical interest on our hands!” Giovani slapped Ambrose’s back.
“What’s that you speak of?” Ambrose said.
“Oh, quit playing dumb! Not in front of your friend and your queen! If you just admit it I’m sure we both will keep that secret close. Right your splendidness?” Eleanor only half turned, waiting to hear but with feigned interest.
“I’m not sure-”
“Don’t make me look foolish now Ambrose! I know it to be true and it’s been driving me mad ever since realizing it! Bring out that coin of yours!”
Ambrose froze up, hesitating as he looked at Elanor. She was side-eyeing him now, her curiosity more evident. Ambrose continued to swap between the two of them, with annoyance growing on Giovani’s brow.
“I only just recalled now,” Eleanor started, “You still keep that coin on you Ambrose? Why was it that Gio almost stopped us for you to do one of your fated flips? You can’t possibly think his coin is actually anything other than an excuse to leave your decisions up to anything but chance, do you Gio?”
Giovani whistled over the swipe at Ambrose’s expense, and Ambrose felt the words pinch a nerve within him, “My coin does tell me the right path! It was the coin that sent me in this direction to start, and look where we stand now! In truth if it wasn’t for the coin you’d be in an inescapable position, Eleanor. And for that, I am thankful, as you should be.”
“Ho ho!” Giovani said, the tension in the air a physical presence, “Is that right? I do believe that all is true, and know that I speak truthfully as well Queen. I do believe the three of us are quite more alike than we realize, or at least part of the same guild. So won’t you show it, Ambrose?”
Ambrose hesitated but sighed and knew the gig was up. He reached to his pocket, pulling the coin from where it was. Holding it in front of him, Eleanor and Gio displayed looks that did not complement one another; the former was confused, while the latter began moving decisively.
Animated, Giovani raised his dagger, “This, my two partners in crime, is the true ebony dagger. As all material is sacred, this was the first item of ebony to be manipulated by man and turned to something else, and like all of those known materials it holds much power!” Giovani deftly lept to Eleanor’s side, touching her dress to her shock, “This is the true silk! A marvelous attire, and now I am privy to its interesting power. Always a joy for us users to see another in action, don’t you agree?” Eleanor pulled the dress from his hand, but Giovani was done with it anyway, leaping now to Ambrose’s side, “But lady and gentleman, nothing has stirred my senses quite like this discovery today! For you, Ambrose, my friend and ally, hold what the world has never known to exist! I’d bet my life on it happily knowing I’d win another, for that coin is the true silver!”
Ambrose stood still as Giovani began to laugh, and Eleanor’s eyes went wide as her mouth fell agape. He felt more than two sets of eyes were looking at him now as if he was exposed to the world.
“I-I…” Ambrose started, and looking at the coin continued, “I think I’ve always known what you said to be true. This coin was always more special than my father’s, and yet I have both loved and loathed it since it became mine. Life has been rather… easy with it, I can not fib. But I’ve felt a fool for relying on it at times,” He said, making eye contact with Eleanor, “And yet, I’ve never known the coin to make a fool out of me in the end. But this talk of true materials never concerned me, for if it had as it does now maybe I would have realized sooner.”
Giovani clapped in celebration of his successful deduction, while Eleanor revealed her first smile of the day, her head shaking. Ambrose himself felt anxious at the reveal as if he revealed his guilt in a crime, his nerves suggesting that his admittance was an act he would later regret. But it also gave him a new sense of relief, a weight he did not know he bore for so long leaving his shoulders, and to a small audience that did not seem to deny or disapprove of his truth.
“All that time ago,” Eleanor started, and as Ambrose met her eyes they both awkwardly took to fidgeting with their fingers and stance, “I pitied you for the loss of your father, and left it to that as why the coin meant more to you than its value. But Ambrose, if what you and Gio say is true, you could be a legend in the country of Silver Acre! They’ve been searching for generations for the true silver, even still their flag bears an empty insignia in hopes to one day filling it. They hold the most marvelous tournament annually to test those who proclaim they have found and hold the silver, the Festival of the Unearthed they call it. You’d be celebrated should you reveal your truth!” Eleanor seemed to be looking past Ambrose now, a thought turning over in her head.
“Yes, well you won’t be getting rid of me so easily my Queen,” Ambrose replied, “Runswick is the only land for me, I think. And while I have said that I felt my coin to be truly special, I never could know that it was, if it truly is like you two suggest. I’ve heard many accounts from those who have ventured to Silver Acre’s capital to enjoy the festivities that come with the annual Unearthed. The copious liquors and ales attract my ears, but my stomach turns over when I hear of those who compete. Don’t you know what happens to those who lie about finding the silver?”
“Ho ho! I know it well,” Interrupted Gio, “I was there last year! Two there were; a man with a necklace, and another with a ring. They each claimed it to be the true silver, and once they failed to show any such power or ability, they were each branded with the item! Now one walks burnt around the neck where his necklace is laid, and the other around the ring finger! But it is for the show and the glory, for those who try and fail on the festival day may be ill-received by the hopeful nobility, but the people treat them royally the entire weekend! The man with the ring finger was a genius, let me tell you, for the small burn did not hurt after all the free alcohol he received!
“The real tragics are the very few who try to prove they own the silver when it is not the weekend of the Unearthed festival. I’ve only heard the rumors, and it’s a rumor you hear plenty during that weekend, but those who have failed and lied about having the true silver in the privacy of Silver Acre’s castle have been known to lose a hand or their tongue!”
“Right you are, Visconti,” Eleanor replied, “Few the cases may be, it has happened once in our lifetime. A smith had designed a helmet of silver that claimed to be impervious to anything, never allowing injury to its user above the neck. And though it was very well made, even earning the man a role in the royal smiths, the man was quite concussed by the beating he tried to endure. My father told me that story, saying the man is still alive and is quite the good listener these days, although his storytelling is impaired.”
Eleanor stuck her tongue out and chopped down at it with her hand. Ambrose winced at the sight, while Giovani laughed. “That’s what my father did when he told me the story many moons ago.” She said, her eyes and face remembering.
“You two aren’t doing the best job of convincing me to give it my own try, should that be what you’re suggesting. I’m not sure I would love the fame, and not sure the freedom I will be afforded should I be this long lost owner Silver Acre has been waiting for.”
“But humor me, friend, imagine the Queen and I to be these Silver Acre nobles,” Giovani straightened his posture, inflecting his voice to sound deeper and more commanding, “Peasant before me, what is it that this coin of yours does? What powers do you claim lie dormant and mysterious to us?”
“Well,” Ambrose said, turning over the coin in his hand before throwing it to the woods. Giovani and Eleanor followed it with their eyes, before returning to Ambrose, who opened his other hand to reveal the coin. “It returns to me instantly to start, and-”
“Yes, yes, all of the items can return to their users like you showed,” Eleanor said.
“A trick of sleight of hand, my Queen. It has been done before, I believe he pegs us the fools here.” Giovani said, continuing with his impression.
“Ok fine,” Ambrose said, feeling more scrutiny than he thought he should be, “I can ask it anything, yes or no, and it will give me an answer upon its flipping. Never has it been wrong, always steering me from trouble-” Ambrose said, before meeting Eleanor’s annoyed expression. Ambrose blushed.
“How is that to hold in this court? You have half the chance of being right or wrong, how are we to prove that it is powerful in this way!” Giovani said, his voice now that of an annoyed and impatient ruler.
“Lastly and most powerful of all though,” Ambrose quickly responded, almost argumentative, “Is how unimaginably lucky it makes me! Just look at my crops, I haven’t worked an honest day in years and am a very successful farmer. Or even in my current situation, a normal man would be dead by now. It just seeps luck into all my ventures!”
Ambrose felt exasperated as Giovani and Eleanor exchanged a judging glance at one another before Giovani leaned in and whispered something into her ear. Eleanor took the whisper and thought briefly, and to Ambrose’s chagrin leaned over and whispered something back. To this Giovani smiled, bowing back at her.
“What are you two going on about?” Ambrose said, annoyed.
“The decision does not come lightly,” Giovani put on his most royal inflection, “But we must obey the Queen's commands.”
“As acting Queen of Silver Acre,” Eleanor mimicked Giovani’s tone, “I send this liar to gallows! Let his days of embarrassment end here!” Eleanor dropped the act in favor of a laugh, and Giovani joined her, both of them keeling over. The two continued to laugh together as they turned, beginning to walk again down the path, signaling without needing to say that the rest was over. Ambrose was left to catch up, feeling dumbstruck at being the butt of the joke.