Kveldulf arrived to the Council Palace as the sun crested over the city buildings. It was an uneasy feeling being here alone as he stood there with no one else from The Wolves. There was hardly anyone else in the plaza, which reinforced the growing tension. Coming to the large, he knocked on it three times.

He looked back into the plaza, half-convinced there was someone watching him from some unseen vantage point. The metal clack of the locks caused him to turn and see a guard on the other side, opening the door slowly.

“Can I help you?” the guard asked.

Kveldulf held up a letter with the seal of Allianna pressed onto a wax seal. “I received this from her grace.”

“Ah yes,” said the guard, nodding, “I was told to expect you. Please come in.”

Kveldulf came inside, the guard closing the door and turned back to him. “One moment please, I’ll inform the lady to your arrival.”

Kveldulf said nothing. He pressed his back against the wall, gripping and loosening his grasp on the hilt of his blade as he waited. He tried to calm his breathing, feeling the urge to flee the building and hide himself from this whole farce.

“Ah, welcome!” he heard Roland call out, as he approached him. “I hope this wasn’t too early to come over.”

“It’s fine,” Kveldulf said, “I’m normally up early anyway.”

“Good, very good. Since Lady Allianna has taken on much of the duties to running a city, she has not as much time to speaking leisurely as she used to.”

“I can imagine how difficult this has been,” Kveldulf said.

Roland smiled, before clearing his throat. “Well, come come!” Roland gestured Kveldulf to follow.

Kveldulf fought the desire to groan as he went with Roland. Moving down the halls and stairways up to the hallway leading to the Council Chambers. Instead of turning left, Roland opened the doors on the right. Inside the room, the walls were lined with weapons, armors, flags of Koulberg stretching back to the reign of the first kings. In the middle of the room were three couches, placed to form a u-shape around a round table with a small tree resting in a planter.

“What is this place?” Kveldulf asked, his mouth half opened.

“This is the lady’s parlor. Where she entertains guests and the like.”

“Hard not to catch someone’s attention.”

“Yes,” said Roland, “She has collected many interesting trinkets and what nots during her travels.”

“You don’t say.”

“Well, sadly I must attend to other matters, but she should be with you presently.”

“Of course,” said Kveldulf, still absorbing the ancient artifacts of war all around him.

Once Roland left the room, Kveldulf moved around the room. He stopped by one suit of armor. Glittering chainmail with metal shoulder pauldron, a helm shaped as a wolf as with sabatons molded to look like wolf paws. At the bottom of the display read, Armor of Ragnar Wolfbane – Highking of Koulberg.

Next to this was long bladed sword, almost as tall as Kveldulf when standing next to the weapon. The cracked leather revealed the wood underneath, still sporting a luminescent sheen to it. Looking at the blade’s edge, Kveldulf could see it still carried a keen sharpness. He was reached out to thumb it, but pulled back as he thought different of the idea. Next to it was a sign reading, Blade of Clovis the Hammer – First Knight of the Order of Dragons.

His mouth dropped and head fell back as he found a suit of armor he instantly recognized. It was plated, with chain mail covering the exposed parts and he could see bits of gambeson underneath the plates. The helm was decorated with wings on the side jutting upwards slightly. The front face was plain, no decorative etchings of any kind. Covering the cuirass was the image of a white horse rearing on its hind legs before a bright golden sun.

“No,” he said weakly, stepping back as he saw a ghost come back from beyond the grace.

“It took my best smiths months to repair that armor,” he heard Allianna say as she arrived. “And even then, there was only so much they could.”

“This was his armor?”

Allianna nodded. “It was. A few people argued it should’ve been melted and cast into the ocean. To rust and fade away within the darkest depths of the ocean. I decided against it.”

“Why?”

“A few reasons, young Kveldulf, son of Einar. Lord of The White Horse.”

“You dare use title on me?” he replied, offended. “After what you did to my house, my family!”

Allianna looked back to the armor. Pain growing on her face. “I did not mean offense with that remark.”

“No offense,” said Kveldulf, feeling his heartbeat quicken, his teeth clench and his fist tighten and shake violently. “You banished my house from this city, the city we defended with our blood and lives. You called us traitors and beyond honor!”

“I would prefer –”

“I would prefer to see my parents not be feasted on by the crow. To have their remains given the treatment fitting of my people! I prefer they lived to see their grand children run and play, and enjoy everything you stole from us! Don’t you dare try to act as if you have been inconvenienced!”

“Master Kveldulf –”

Without thinking, Kveldulf grabbed the long sword and swung it towards Allianna. She dodged the attack, calmly stepping to the side. Preparing another attack, she swiftly grabbed his hand and with her other arm wrapped it around his neck. He struggled, but could not break himself free.

“I did not ask you here so I could end your line,” she said coolly. “I came to speak with you, personally.”

“I can tell, my lady,” he said, struggling to breath.

“If I release you, would you be so kind as to have a cordial conversation?”

“I think that might be my only available option, my lady,” Kveldulf replied.

Allianna slowly released her hold. Kveldulf steadied himself, cautiously placing the sword back in its place. “All right,” he said, catching his breath, “Let us talk.”

“Firstly, I will not bandy with words on how your family was treated,” she said, looking up at the armor. “In all honesty, I was anticipating rescinding the decree before the second generation of kin had reached maturity following Baeron’s last breath.”

“Then why didn’t you?”

“One cannot tell what people will choose to remember, and what they will decide to forget, or forgive. And there are still those within the elven community here who remember with advantages what your ancestor did. Not many, but enough.”

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

“I know Baeron served Callaband during his reign,” said Kveldulf.

“He did more than that,” said Allianna. “He did far more than defend a crown worn by a tyrant for whom mercy was beyond foreign in thought and deed.”

“What did he do?”

“When you travelled to the town of Amlin, you passed by the Crimson Fields?”

“I did.”

“When I was a child, I remember when it used to a forest. Trees as wide as houses. Birds singing songs that touched your soul. The scent of ancient life stretching back to the beginning of the world, if you believe the stories. I would run across the ground bare foot, feeling the morning dew chill my skin,” as she spoke, Allianna lips trembled, her nostrils flared and her eyes narrowed. “It was where I met my beloved, Elduin. It was where we were wed. And it was where your Baeron had him executed.”

Kveldulf turned to the armor, his stomach beginning to twist and turn.

“Baeron had that entire forest hacked to pieces, turning the trees into stakes to impale all the enemies of his king. Some trees bore him many hellish pikes to stain the earth with the blood of those murdered souls.”

“Why I have never heard of this? I thought it was when Callaband made a pact with a daemon lord and tainted the ground around him.”

Allianna scoffed, “It is not unheard of for people to believe true fantasy to shield themselves from the darkness of their hearts. Or to be reminded of the horrors they can commit for nothing more than a word.”

“But, if he did that, if he did such horrible things, why have this, a shrine to him?”

“Many reasons, Kveldulf. At first it was a reminder of what happens when you lose sight of what is right and wrong. To never forget those I lost when warring against the tyrant and his allies. As time passed, I began to see it as a relic of when things were simpler. You knew who was your enemy and friend. Who you could rely on, who wasn’t telling you what you wanted to hear, only to work to undermine everything you have given all but your very life for. And, to a certain, to honor him.”

“Honor him?”

“He was cruel, he was unyielding, he was many things that would chill a person to their soul. But he did have some qualities one would find admirable, one in particular.”

“What’s that?”

“When all of Callaband’s lords abandoned him. When the end was near, and death was beyond certain, Baeron fought alongside his lord. He did not run, nor hide, nor ask for mercy. He faced his end with courage and with whatever dignity was left in him. And throughout the entirety of the war, Baeron fought with every fiber of his being. Even if it led him to do terrible things for victory. We tend to forget how rarely we see ourselves as the villains in our own story, and how the actions we make now will be seen by those afterwards in a very different light.”

“Then why was my family punished?”

“Another facet of the story many have chosen to forget, Kveldulf. But to put it simply, it was a compromise.”

“Compromise, for what?”

“Many of the nobility who sided with me, and even those who had turned against Callanband, near then end, called for the death of your entire house. To be an example for those who wished to try and reinstate some semblance of Callaband’s old regime. But, I fought to stay their hands, and their bloodlust. The decree to banish your house was the agreed concession allowing your kin to survive. And as I said, I had expected this to have long been annulled well before you drew your first breath. The fact that it has stood true to this very day says much, a little of it well.”

“I’m not sure what to say, in all honesty,” said Kveldulf.

“Neither can I,” said Allianna. “Though at this point it seems words can only begin to convey the full scope of the injustice done.”

“Well I can’t say Baeron was not deserving of what happened to him.”

“No, but the generations after should not be punished for the actions of someone well before their time. And while I do not wish for the actions of Baeron to wash away into the vast dark sea of oblivion, I feel it is time for those who know not the full horrors of what occurred to act as if they experienced them first hand. There is a vast difference between remembrance and petty vengeance. Though many would prefer not to learn that lesson.”

“I suppose that means removing the decree is not as easy as a simple wave of a hand?”

Allianna chuckled. “If it was, then you would not have arrived under false monikers to avoid immediate detection.”

Kveldulf laughed uncomfortably. “I guess that ruse didn’t work.”

“To be fair, I’ve kept an eye on you and your kin in some capacity for some time.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Kveldulf asked shocked.

“Do keep in mind, you are not the first of your house to return to this city, and a few have tried their hand at a more direct approach to achieving satisfaction.”

“Oh … oh,” Kveldulf said, pulling on his collar as he felt a sudden rise in heat.

“That certainly did not help with convincing individuals, such as the Council, to go along with removing the decree on your house.”

“Well, with the Council out of the way, what else would need to be done?”

“If there was one thing that would give you the heart of city, enough to wipe away the stain of Baeron without question, I would be delighted to tell you. But as of this moment, I cannot. That being said, what you are doing now, aiding in protecting this city, trying to uncover what it is Callanband and his minions are doing, this is more than a good start to your efforts. And I more than wanting to see your banners fly high amongst its noble brethren once again.”

“That would be nice to see. I know my parents would be proud to see the family name no longer dragged through the mud and bound to an eternal shame.”

“I am sorry for their deaths, they died long before their time.”

“Thank you, it was not an easy time for me.”

“Losing a parent is hard, even when it is under more idyllic circumstances. But I could not imagine what it must’ve been like.”

“It’s made me who I am, better or worse. Though I am curious how you knew how they died.”

“We had an agent within the camp keeping an eye on you and your parents. When their camp was ambushed, our agent was killed with the rest. We sent a party to find out what happened to them, and found your parents nearby where they laid. It was assumed you did not survive the encounter until word came of a young man bearing the name Kel Stiegsen had joined the famed Cold Company.”

“And here I was thinking I had covered my tracks well enough.”

“Regardless, I will not speak on their behalf, for it is not my place to do so. But given what I’ve seen first-hand and from the words of others; I would be proud to call you kin.”

“Your words are most kind.”

“You’ve earned it, Master Kveldulf. And sadly, there seems to be more people who care about putting on the airs of accomplishment than actually accomplishing something worth remembering.”

“So much for the road less traveled,” Kveldulf said, letting out a sharp scoff.

“Yes, certainly has made me reflect on a few decisions I’ve made.”

Kveldulf pressed his lips together, looking uncomfortable as a though crossed his mind.

Allianna lifted an eyebrow and nodded. “I am going to guess you want to ask about the Council then?”

“It has been on my mind, as of late,” Kveldulf admitted.

“Well, after the tyranny of Callanband, I was always afraid that I would become the very thing I spent so much time fighting. In seeking order and peace, I would sow the seeds of war, death, and so much strife to last generations. When things appeared to reach a point of stability, I thought the Council was more than capable of attending to matters throughout the realm.”

“And your agents?”

“They were initially there to ensure supporters of Callanband could not infiltrate and do harm to our people. It wasn’t until recently that I was forced to turn their gaze inward and begin to softly check the ineptitude of the recent Council.”

“I would think that was not an easy decision to make.”

“They never are,” she said somberly.

“Do you know what we need to do before we can take the fight to the enemy?”

Allianna chuckled softly.

“Was it something I said?”

“I just never thought I would be discussing action against that damned Callanband with Baeron’s own heir!” she said, holding her hand over her mouth.

“The irony was not lost on me,” Kveldulf said, trying to hold back the laughter.

“Well, this does remind me of one more thing I wanted to do.”

“Really?”

“Indeed,” she said, moving over to a weapon hanging next to Baeron’s armor. It was a long and thin spearpoint resting at the top of short wooden handle with a flat axe head attached to the shaft at a perfect right angle.

“Is that?” Kveldulf asked breathlessly.

“It is, the famed Warbringer. Born by the hands of Aeirik Stormeye at the founding of Koulberg. Wielded in battle by each generation until Baeron’s time.”

“But I thought it was destroyed?”

“It was broken, yes, but much like any tool, it can be repaired in the right hands. And what the Council thought was a mere trinket need not be corrected.”

She gently gripped the weapon and with great care handed it to Kveldulf.

“I think it would be poignant if this weapon was in hands of those who gave it glory.”

Kveldulf gripped the handle, marveling at the intricate details of the etchings running along the axe-head’s edge.

“I’d be careful with that,” she said cautiously.

“Why?” Kveldulf asked as the handle extended on its own, puncturing an ancient tome resting on an elaborate pedestal. He turned to her, blinking rapidly as the color left his face. “I am so sorry.”

“Honestly, I’m not that heartbroken. That writer was someone who desperately needed to go outside of his small monk-like quarters.”

Kveldulf chuckled. “I think you and Doc would get along just fine.”

“Perhaps when things wind down, we can all find time to become better acquainted.”

“I think that would be nice. Give us all the chance to catch out breath and come to terms with everything.”

Allianna nodded. “I know when the wars with Callaband were done, I had hardly the energy to raise from my bed. Let face the trials that came with my new station.”

“How did you become used to it?”

“Who said I did?”