Sometimes I wonder if all the mysteries of this world exist only to satiate our hunger for them. We crave for knowledge, for every sinew of it, for every thread. This is our curse, long has been and long will be. But I wonder, as I ink this page with words, what would happen if we run out of mysteries to seek?The answer, to my surprise, is simple- we make new mysteries as we are mysteries ourselves.

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1500 years later, Twentieth year of the Cull. Holm, Capital City of the United Kingdoms of Vanadis and Castonia

Sunlight peeped through gaps in the curtain, beams striking the map atop the table. Timothy sat beside, cross-legged as respite to his aching knees.

He reached toward the map, feeling the roughness. Unlike others this was carved in the wooden table instead of painted on some parchment. The craggy portion the size of a man's torso was supposed to represent the Ninev mountains. Red dye was painted on this portion as well as most of the north.

Red for blood. Color of war. Shade of the enemies.

A variety of colors were used to represent the different regions of the human holdings. Castonia, his kingdom, and Vanadis, his wife's, shared the golden hue. Only a line separated the two as border and that border would soon disappear once their son ascends to both the thrones.

The door creaked, gentle as a mother's warmth. Timothy smiled. He only knew one person to open a door that way.

Lucia had a yellow dress for today. Though it looked more comfortable than the others, the tight waist seemed torturous. She took the crown off her head and plucked some pin. Her golden hair fell to its full length, tumbling down to her middle back.

"What?" She asked, tender smile forming on her lips.

"Have I told you that you are the most beautiful woman I have ever set my eyes upon?"

"Everyday. Sometimes a few times a day. Yesterday it was thrice."

She went to him and cupped his face. Leaning closer, her lips grazed his. It didn't develop into a kiss as Lucia pulled her head back.

"You are cruel." Timothy said.

Lucia giggled. "You did the same to me three days ago."

He lunged toward her. It didn't take long before she was in his arms, cradled like a babe. The Queen of Vanadis- the one gifted with a mind so sharp it ripped their enemies in the past- was now in his arms, looking at him with shy eyes and red cheeks.

Lucia coiled her arm around his neck. She kissed him, void of her teases now. Her warm breaths tickled him. Her perfume wafted its pleasant scent- chamomile, lemon and something sweet. The kiss grew deeper until Timothy's legs trembled. Numbness occupied his lower leg. Lucia was able to slid off him before they both fell. He staggered back to his seat, breaths heavy and quick .

"We are not as young as we used to be. We are older now than yesterday and tomorrow we would be older still." Lucia pulled his right leg and massaged his knee. "It's swollen again."

"It's just a passing weakness. I can still stop cavalry charge."

"Accept it Tim. We are old."

There was of course truth to that. They had burnt half their lives already. The change happened gradually. Strength was leaving him like money from a squanderous noble.

He studied Lucia. She was experiencing the sad changes too. Although she was still the same beauty he married, youth had fled from her already. Her golden hair had strands of white. Her skin didn't sag yet though it was inevitable. Those eyes that once shone in a radiant blue had now dulled under her pallid eyelids.

Nevertheless she was still the same Lucia. Gone was her youth but her being didn't change. And time only served to fuel Timothy's affection.

"So," Lucia said, looking at the map. "What do we have here? Problems?"

"Oh with that there is no shortage. A magical race means to wipe us all out. The human nations we are forging into one are bickering with the smallest of issues."

"We have been battling these problems for the past two decades that the word 'problem' might not be accurate now. The Cull and the bickering kingdoms are normalcy. But you still looked troubled earlier."

"The Rooster." Timothy pointed at a wooden piece representing the Rooster Legion. "Once they were the King's Legion, my own legion. Fiercest, most loyal, unbreakable. I could remember at least nine songs telling of their exploits and that's just from the popular bards. But that was all twenty years ago. Soldiers retire and the men of the Rooster get replaced by new ones. Of the original five thousand, how many do you think are of the original Rooster Legion?"

"A hundred and twenty-six."

"Yes, of course you knew. One hundred twenty-six. Mostly officers. And yet the songs still continue. The bards still praise the Rooster with notes and melodies. What if the Rooster fails? What if they rout? The Rooster's reputation has soared too high. Failure in meeting expectations will shatter the morale of our men."

"I can't see any options left for us but to recall the Rooster into a less perilous position. Meanwhile we can spread other news to down the reputation of the Rooster."

"You may be right. And I think my emotions also play a part in this. The Rooster Legion has been the center of my favor for a long time." Timothy retracted his leg and gripped Lucia's hand. "How about you? I would know it when something bothers your thoughts."

"What are you talking about? I was radiant." She grinned but snuffed it into a bitter smile. "I can't hide anything from you, can I? Well it's nothing really."

"Leo. He's at it again." Timothy nodded. He eased his back into the backrest. A warm surge of sigh escaped from his mouth. "When will he learn?"

"Our son has a lot going on in his life right now. We must be patient. He will mature. Soon. Yes, soon."

"My patience has long been taxed."

"And I say you let it be taxed some more."

Timothy wrapped his arm around Lucia's waist. She leaned on his chest as both of them stared at the window.

"Leo" Timothy said again, now shaking his head. He looked at Lucia. "Omniscient. What is he doing now anyway?"

***

The die flew from the Leo's hand. It rolled in the air- tumbling, furling- until it hit the board. It rolled some more as if teasing. Soon it eased, the six-dot side facing upward.

Leo slammed his fist on the table. "Omniscient bless me boys! Hah! Ain't that a true luck?"

The onlookers were mostly rowdy to his win. They were shouting garbles. The tavern was filled with their glee. And why wouldn't they glee? He promised to wine their bellies if he wins.

And he did, much to the annoyance of his opponent. The merchant pointed to him, ringed finger coiling and stiff.

"You cheated! Aye you did. I swear you have some hidden tricks under that long robe of yours."

Leo spread his arms. He turned to his uncle who wore the same outfit- long sleeved robes and some cloth to cover their faces.

"His accusation is deep, uncle. As deep as his pockets earlier."

"But now his pockets have gone shallow." His uncle said.

Leo smiled, directing to the merchant. "As shallow as his temper. Omniscient. Look it him. We have good days and bad ones Mister. Today's not yours." He pointed to the bartender. "A bottle for each person! Mead, wine, beer, ale, even fermented milk. Let if flow!"

The drunkards cheered a deafening one. Even the bards were playing lively music now. The song was Rooster's Crow, if he wasn't mistaken.

Leo stepped to the table and cupped the coins. The merchant was fuming.

"I didn't cheat." He sighed. "The trick is to balance the die and practice your throw. Best of luck Mister."

The merchant grabbed his wrist. The guards stepped to flank him. All two were armored with mails. They towered a head taller and were all ugly and rude.

"You cheated." The merchant said, hooked nose wrinkling.

"I didn't cheat. I swear. And this is not a good idea." The rowdy yells and the melodies of the bards froze as everyone looked at them. Leo eyed the guards and then the merchant. His eyes were focused, cold as was his voice. "Trust me, Mister. You pluck one hair of mine and you are dead. No. Not just dead. Scorned. These good lads of yours will suffer a fate several times more heinous than death. If you only know who I am you would be begging right now. Unhand me. This is a command."

"A command?" The merchant chucked. "I can have your pretty neck broken right now. Do you know who I am boy?" He leaned closer, meeting eyes with Leo. Those emerald eyes were bathed in fury. "Do you?"

"You are a merchant with a shallow temper and an even shallower mind. That's all you are. That's all you'll ever be. You have my permission to take this cloth off my face. This is my mercy to you fool- the knowledge of the pit you are barreling into."

For a moment Leo was worried that his warning wasn't enough. His statement wasn't exaggerated. The merchant would be executed and all of his possessions would be confiscated if this turns sour.

Think. You fool. Think. Use your brain and save yourself. Your senseless death is undesired.

The merchant pinched the cloth around his mouth and yanked it away. Leo's face was revealed under the dim light of the lamps.

Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

The shock came through a grunt. The merchant went back to his seat, quivering eyes focused in Leo. His mouth was open, occasional gulps made it look painful.

The guards also stepped away as if Leo was death himself. And he was, in a way. One word from him could mean the difference between life or death.

"I didn't know." The merchant's voice was squeaky, shaking and with stutters. "Mercy, Your Highness. Mercy. My anger was greased with wine. I... I don't want to die."

His uncle sat on the table, shaking the pile of coins. He removed his disguise. Azure eyes, flaxen hair trimmed and combed- Arthur Vanadis' looks didn't falter to age. Although one of his eyes was blind, it didn't look apparent.

"I think you should leave now. Take your mutts with you." Uncle Arthur looked at him. "You'll let this pass right?"

Leo cupped his wrist. It ached- just a little- but it ached. He smiled. "He did threaten to have my neck broken but I doubt this Mister has it in him to break a prince's neck. Look at him. He is just too pleasant of a man."

"Of course Your Highness! I was merely-"

"But" Leo raised his finger. "A threat is a threat. Remind me again uncle, what is the punishment for threatening a royal?"

"Death" His uncle said.

"I see. Death. A sword to the heart or perhaps decapitation." He focused on the merchant. "But my mother taught me mercy. My father taught me grace. Break my pretty little neck, you said. I will just think of it as a strange way of you complimenting my neck. You three can go now."

The merchant and his guards scrambled outside. Leo cupped his winnings, six gold coins and three dozen silvers. He turned to the other people in the tavern.

"Now who wants to get drunk?!"

He was met with a tavern stripped of sound. Everyone was seated with stiff backs and drooped heads now.

"You honor my establishment, Your Highness" Said a perfumed man in a clean coat. He hurtled to Leo and knelt. "Thank you for gracing us with your presence."

Now, Leo thought with a deep sigh, this is why I hate revealing my face. Necks would bow. Knees would bend. Words would straighten. And fun would end.

Leo rose. He flicked three gold coins to the owner. "I promised to flood these lads with drinks tonight. I'll leave them to you. Come, Uncle. Let's go back."

He grabbed his coat. A few steps brought him outside. The sun was burning its last lights. The streetlamps were now melting their tallow, glowing dull.

The salty air of Holm pinched his nose. With his uncle beside, Leo walked the wide streets, hands sheathed in the pockets of his coat. Every person they passed would provide a bow, some even threw coins at their feet.

"You really scared that merchant silly. I noticed drops of liquid dripping down his trousers. I'm not saying it was pee. But, yes, it was probably pee." His uncle said, chuckling and joining his strides. "You scared him the bones."

"He wasn't scared of me, Uncle. He was scared of my father and my mother." He closed his mouth though his disappointment prompted him to say more. "You know what my greatest achievement is? Being born as their son. That's it. Being born."

"Wrong! You are a god with the dice and your card tricks are superb. I bet you can also outdrink most of the drunkards in Holm."

Leo chuckled though he didn't want to. His uncle's praises just sounded too ridiculous. He slowed his walk, dimming sunlight before him. "When my father was my age, he defended Castonia from two invasions, won a civil war, toppled rebellions and shattered a coalition. He decimated armies. The strategies he used are being studied by every historian. My mother was helping my father back then. They say a letter from her, a single pigeon-bound letter, could topple kingdoms. They are also the Eternal Pair, saviors of mankind, defenders against the Ninevans. Now, Uncle, how do my dice-throwing and mead-drinking skills compare?"

"You are envious of them?"

"Yes, envy. There's that." He nodded. "But there is something more. Shame, a pit in my stomach every time I hear songs about them. Being too small that their shadows blotted my sun. It is shameful being the one to continue their legacy."

"I am not strange to the feeling. I was the heir before your grandfather deemed your mother as a better ruler. At first I was burning of course. I mean wouldn't you get angry if your younger sister took the crown instead of you? You know what I did?"

"You threw it all out. I know."

"Exactly!" His uncle raised a fist. "I thought, so what if I won't be King? Let them do all the work while I pleasure myself to an early grave. How did you know?"

Leo shook his head. "Books are being written about you. Philosophers are even arguing about your life's philosophy. Simple, hedonistic, uncaring- I heard one long-bearded man preach in an alley. Arthur Vanadis' life is a perfect example on how we should all live!" Leo rolled his eyes. "So you see Uncle, even your life gets more attention than mine. When they see me, they see my father. They look for any semblance of military genius. When they talk about me, they force connections with my mother's talents. I chat with a servant and they call it scheming. I ride a horse and they all drop their jaws, praising my penchant for warfare. I wonder if I take a dump in public, would they clap their hands and call it psychological tactics against our enemies?"

"Ain't that a good thing? Taking a dump and people thinking of it as an act of genius?" His uncle beamed and coiled an arm around his neck. "I understand. So good luck with your journey tomorrow. I will miss our strolling sessions. And don't forget to sing praises to the beauties in Dandaria about your uncle. Tell them that Arthur Vanadis is in Holm and he is available!"

Leo patted his uncle's back and their walk staggered. "Yes, I will tell them a tale about a bachelor prince who is also a war hero. Tell mother to prepare the harbor of Holm because maidens will come in droves. Every single of one them would be seeking Arthur Vanadis" Leo raised his finger. "The Bachelor Prince!"

Like most of their conversations, this one ended with laughter. He would really miss his uncle. In fact there were many people in the city he would long for. But his mind was set. Tomorrow, he would board a ship heading to Dandaria. Perhaps he could make a name for himself there, one that was not connected to his parents' achievements.

The street broke into a four-way intersection ahead. A statue served as a roundabout. Gardenias were planted around it, looking fresh and serene. The sweet smell of the flowers defeated the salty air of Holm.

Leo halted, staring at the statue. It was the size of a house and coated in gold. It was his grandfather, the father of his father whom he was named after- Leopold Castonia. The statue depicted Leopold Castonia raising his sword in the air. His features were rough- strong chin, stern eyes, muscular body.

"The Savior of Holm." Leo said. "What do you think, Uncle? My grandfather led the citizens into the defense of this city. He died a hero. Our flagship and I are even named after him. Do you think I would at least attain that level of fame by myself?"

"Your grandfather also broke promises left and right, lied in the face of everyone, tortured, bribed...Omniscient. I was afraid of him. He is a broken man with a broken personality. And those grand chins and sinewy features? He looked more like one of those villains in plays who would exclaim, 'Oh hero, you have bested me! But this is not over. I will return for revenge!'. But behind his villainous face and villainous attitude, he was a good man I believe. He just did what he thought was right and now everyone has images of him in their houses. I'm not going to lie Leo, I don't know if your adventures in Dandaria would bring you fame. I don't even know if you'll be coming back alive. I mean Dandaria is a cruel place. But if you are certain about running away, then I will support you with my silence."

"Well first of all, I am not running away. I just kept it a secret to my parents because they wouldn't permit me."

"That is running away."

"But I will come back. With stories to fill our drinking nights, I will come back. Holm had long shackled me. This life, although the dream of many, is not my passion. I need to see what's out there. I don't want mere stories told through wine-dipped mouths and old papers. I want to witness."

His uncle nodded and embraced him. "May the Omniscient guide your way. Oh no. I think I'm tearing up."

"You know what's going to ebb the sadness."

"Mead?"

Leo smiled. "Mead"

***

The night was old and the morning was near. Leo shuffled through his pack. One was enough to contain all the things he needed. Coupled with a longsword for protection, he was set for his journey.

He entered through the door that connected his room to his brother's. Theodore was snoring, legs and arms spread wide on his bed. Leo knelt on the bedside, staring at his brother. At fifteen, Theo inherited the looks of their mother- blue eyes and golden hair of a Vanadis though the striking chin was their father's.

"Until our paths cross again." Leo whispered. He had the urge to farewell with an embrace but stopped. The path he would take would require him to stifle his emotions. This would be a good start.

He stood and walked to the window, severing his look to his brother only when he reached it. This window had become familiar to him. The hinges were loose and one pluck would disconnect it. His tinkering only lasted for a while until the pane was free. Cold wind of dawn met his face. He sighed.

Leo slid through the window. The path was perilous. One slip would either cripple or kill him. He went forward anyway, stepping lithely on the gutters and anything he could step into. He threw his pack and his sword after reaching the second story. With a jump, he landed on the soft grass.

The guards were of course keen. But the patrols were scant tonight. He reached the eastern palace wall where a small hole allowed him to fit. It was snug and he crawled but he was free after reaching the other side.

No, he smiled bitterly. He wasn't free. His father was sitting on some barrel while his mother was standing before him. There were no guards though he was certain that at least a dozen were watching from afar.

"You knew" Leo nodded, slinging his pack behind. He looked back on the hole. "A shame. This hole is the only secret I could keep."

"You think a hole in the wall of the palace would elude me?" His mother said, smiling. She stepped forward and cupped his face. "And do you think all your late night activities went unnoticed? There are countless people both humans and Ninevans who wanted us dead. If they can't get through our security, do you think you could sneak out?"

Leo's head lolled. "I'm sorry. I am the heir, I know. The future king of both Castonia and Vanadis and possibly of all the humans. But all of it is just too suffocating. Too heavy of a burden. I'm not running away. I just want to go out there and be worthy."

"And if you get killed?"

"There's always Theo to replace me. He is proper, never been in a brawl, never drinks, although his appetite for unwanted jests is rather sour, I think he would be a good monarch."

"I'm not talking about the line of succession. You are our son, our firstborn."

His father slid off the barrel and went to them. He grabbed the sword from Leo's hand and pulled the blade a little.

"Steel. Good kind." His father looked at him. Those dark eyes that mirrored Leo's were too entrancing to ignore. His father handed the sword back to him. "You know how to use it?"

"I think so. Abraham trained me with it."

"That's not what I'm asking. A sword is more than just a weapon. It a decision, a commitment. Once you've drawn the blade from its sheath, you are committed to either kill or defend." His father's warm hands gripped his shoulder. "Do not draw it unless you are certain. Sometimes words cut deeper than swords. Use your mind out there."

"You mean..."

"Yes. Dandaria right? A shattered empire. It will bring you difficulties but you are our son. And if venturing there will give you contentment, then you should go."

"Thank you" He wrapped both of them in a long embrace. "I'll be back in a year."

"Take your time" His mother said. "And bring this with you."

She handed him a sheaf of paper bound by leather. The cover was void of a title.

"This is copy of a journal of a Ninevan. Ashkara, they call him. We have been trying our luck in translating this but for two decades we haven't cracked the language. Maybe in Dandaria you can find a way to translate it." His mother said.

Leo nodded. He had seen them stare at copies of this though he did not pry. So it was a journal of one of our enemies, he thought.

"You have coins to fund your journey?" His father didn't wait for a response and dropped a small pouch on his pack. "Go now. The galley heading to Dandaria is anchored in the thirtieth dock."

He wanted to thank them, to utter something in gratitude. Or just say something, even irrelevant. But Leo could only nod and walk away. He looked back once. They were looking at him as if begging for him to stay. He just went on his way.

The dock was bustling despite the early sun. Topless men heaving barrels and boxes went past him as if unaware of his presence. He went to the galley on dock thirty, the one with a large hull and the flag of the Union flown on top. The wooden stairs wet with seawater was open for boarding. The captain was a bald man dressed in fine naval uniform. He caned as he walked to Leo, face ragged as a summer-stricken land.

"The Swordfish?" Leo asked.

"Aye. Headed to the beautiful wasteland of Dandaria." He gestured toward the plank. "You certain about this, Highness?"

Leo studied the galley. Though a property of the United Kingdoms of Castonia and Vanadis, it voyaged too far south that it only docks here once a year. But south was an unexplored land. His blood boiled in anticipation.

"No" He said. "But I want this."

The bald captain beamed. "Then step up the hull."

Leo stepped, carefully but with impatience. He stopped after reaching the deck and looked to the horizon. The morning sun shone, golden tendrils of light bathing the world. He smiled. It was a new day.