A gentle breeze brushed through the room, causing him to tap his fingers on the chair’s arm. Glancing outside, he watched the clouds drift lazily. It brought him a sense of calm. He took a deep breath; he savored the feel of the breeze on his skin until the room buzzed again with chatter and the banners inside the room, wavering, replacing the soothing wind.
“My King, please let us discuss this further. This decision is not to be taken lightly,” urged an elder councilor draped in light blue clothing, adorned with a necklace of assorted talons and charms, the centerpiece a blue, amethyst denoting his rank.
“Please, don’t address me as your king,” he protested. “I haven’t taken the oath yet, nor even the ceremony for it. And I have no intention of doing it anytime sooner.” He then turned his gaze to the Imperial Diplomat situated below them at the heart of the wooden council chamber, lit up by light from the huge open windows atop the chamber roof, with their insignia carved on the floor.
“Imperial Diplomat Ferrier Ole, with all due respect, what you are asking us to do is unthinkable. We cannot just blindly follow your Arch Chancellor’s request — especially if it involves killing the last heir to the Imperial Throne,” he declared, a sentiment echoed by the rest of the council.
Ferrier cleared his throat, adjusted his belt, and straightened his slightly larger-than-normal stomach, “Kin — I mean, Prince Ravaen, I’m afraid that this decision wasn’t decided upon that lightly either. But I’m afraid that the security of the entire western continent of Arumar, of Unibeltrasia, is now at stake. A prince of one nation in this great land of ours is nothing more than a small sacrifice for the security of the entire lands, which includes yours.” He explained.
He idly toyed with his fingers, eyeing the diplomat. He took a deep breath and chuckled. “Is it just me, or am I sensing a threat in your words, rather than a plea?” he flashed a smile.
“Ah, but it is not, my liege. I apologize if it came across that way, but we value the truth more in the Empire above all else. I do understand that the sentiments of the Mystic Falcons are the same,” Ferrier explained and bowed slightly.
He only stood up, as he glided to the ledge by an open window. “I’m going to be very honest with you, Ferrier. We do not trust this, Menoich Anarchu, whom your Imperial Council has chosen to trust. And because of that, we do not trust the Empire as of the moment because of it,” he said as his eyes were fixed on the diplomat, who strolled around the room.
“You see, despite our simplicity, as you can see from this room alone. The finest silk or cloth does not surround us to decorate our halls, nor is it made of marble and stone. We like it simple. As it is shown to us,” then he paused. “And we know for a fact that Menoich Anarchu, an Arenian, is not to be trusted,” and then he smiled at the diplomat, who seemed visibly flustered.
“M—my liege,” Ferrier stammered. “The council elected Menoich as our Arch Chancellor, for they trust his capability to lead. If he wasn’t the right hand of the king in the first place, they wouldn’t have chosen him. He can hold the Empire together,” Ferrier explained.
He stared at Ferrier, then glided toward him. “Tell me honestly, do you trust him?” he inquired. But Ferrier hesitated to respond. “I believe my council has the same sentiment. So again, why would we answer the call of an untrustworthy person? Do I need to go on?” he said as he flew back to his chair atop the room.
“Imperial Diplomat, I’m afraid his Highness is correct. We’re well aware of the history between your Arch Chancellor and the Imperial King, acknowledging their differences. What we are failing to understand is why not consider having the Imperial Princess ascend the throne? They are twins of the same age. I know that you have your laws regarding ascension but, these are desperate times,” A councilor asked Ferrier.
“Yes, I was wondering about that, too. With thirteen imperial kingdoms, each with its own royalty and Lakans. Surely pulling or ascending one from them is an effortless task, no? Why not have them ascend or marry them to the Princess?” another councilor pointed out.
“I’m afraid it’s not going to be that simple, your honorable councilors. Believe me, I was present during a heated debate on which royal should take the step forward. We don’t want that to happen again,” Ferrier replied, met with disappointment from most of the council.
The council murmured among themselves, deliberating on the next steps. He however, has reached his limits.
“Ferrier, care for a stroll outside the branches?” he asked as he flew down to him and escorted him out of the halls.
One councilor then stood up and objected, “But my liege, the meeting is not yet done,”
“This is me, finishing it. I’m tired of these diplomatic niceties. You are all dismissed,” he said as he promptly took Ferrier out with him.
He took a deep breath as he enjoyed the cool, fresh air outside. The day was pleasant, with the sun high, yet the winds carried a refreshing coolness. They walk down the stairs as the winds blew lightly with its cold breeze. They walk down the carved path as leaves shaded every inch of the vicinity. With children playing, and flying everywhere, while some going on with their day-to-day lives.
It was a typical day at Juntoreigh.
“I love this breeze. That’s why I have a huge open balcony in my room up the keep. I can just have it flow like water through my wings and feathers,” He shared, and Ferrier nodded in agreement.
“Yes, it feels kind of different to my beard as well,” Ferrier remarked.
“How are you enjoying Juntoreigh? How long since you’ve been up here, Ferrier?” he asked.
“Oh, about twenty years ago, your father gave me a tour of the city back then. I must admit, living up high like this makes me want to move here. It’s nice,” Ferrier answered.
“Ah, don’t worry. It is nice up here. Just make sure to watch your step though,” he warned, and they shared a laugh.
“But, may I ask, what is the real reason you took me out for a tour?” Ferrier questioned.
“Because I felt suffocated up there,” he replied swiftly, as he cleared his throat. “I’m not quite ready to be ‘royally sound,’ so to speak. But I do know my way around. Especially with a longtime ally,” he explained.
“So you just want to talk about this like friends? Are you sure we don’t need the council for this?” Ferrier clarified.
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“No, this matter rests solely with the king. Technically, I’m not yet, but by virtue I already am. See the confusion there?” he mused, gazing out towards the plaza shaded by leaves and adorned by flowers of assorted colors. “It’s nice to be up here, you know? We tend to forget our problems down at the surface,”
“Yes, you are right. I kind of forgot about the fight with my wife I had ten days ago,” Ferrier chuckled.
“That’s good to hear. But your problem affects us here up top, you know?” he quickly said, and Ferrier only looked at him as his smile slowly faded.
“My wife wants us to move back to La’Canilenoir. Because of the Red Prince,” Ferrier admitted.
“Ah, then I kind of understand your wife now. She fears for your lives,” he said as he gave Ferrier a pat on the back. “Don’t worry. She’ll get over it,”
“I can’t blame her. It’s not the sole reason,” Ferrier added. “Tamara is currently in turmoil,”
“I once battled alongside Prince Tamiron in Huertian. When there was a large Xerxecian raid caught them off guard. It was a time when I came out there to train some recruits in our army. But I have to admit, the only thing we did was to minimize the casualties. But Tamiron could’ve finished them off on his own,” He told Ferrier then he looked at him. “The casualties should’ve been in the hundreds. But because of him — and me too, of course — he only had one. Because he jumped to every single soldier, he has every time they were about to die and killed those parasites off. Even with my wings, I can’t be that fast. Heck, he even protected one of my own.”
“Yes, the Prince’s only problem is that he is not there to finish off the enemy. He is there to keep his men and allies alive,” Ferrier said as they continued on their tour.
“Yes, so I find it very hard to believe that he did the very thing you told us he did in the Black Plains of Vagabar,” he said to him, to which Ferrier was visibly unsettled. “See? Even you don’t believe it.”
“It’s hard to counter multiple witnesses on the walls, my Prince. I can tell you right now the council even had trouble with this. Especially when King Madarick suddenly had a heart attack upon hearing the news,” Ferrier said. “It divided the council on this decision. It went on for hours, if I remember correctly. The only tie breaker we had was Menoich’s vote,”
“Ah, yes. Of course. It’s always the Arenian,” He chuckled at the thought.
They then stopped in front of a statue.
“I remember this. We had this made in La’Canilenoir. I was very young back then,” Ferrier said as he admired the statue.
“Yeah, I was there too when it was given to us as a gift by the Imperial King. That cool breezy aducegar afternoon,” He said as he looked upon the statue modeled after his father, King Razolden Adevok.
He couldn’t help but remember that day, that afternoon, in the La’Canilenoir capital city of Gramork. He still remembered the beautiful city of flowers, as it was rightfully nicknamed, for the city was literally growing wild assortments of flowers as far as the eye could see — well at least on the surface, but in the sky, it was a breathtaking tapestry in a canvas of green.
Both of the respective Monarchs were in the city for a goodwill visit of the Falcons and King Razolden Adevok, his father, had him accompany him for that event. He still remembered his arrogant, younger self back then, not a care for anyone else who was beneath him.
They arrived at the center city palace back then. The city flew both the banners of the Trasidars and those of the Mystic Falcons and even the greeting band played their tunes and music.
They were made to feel truly welcome within their borders. The great lengths the Trasidar had to go through that day, just to have them come, was astonishing for him. Even more so, they were welcomed by the whole Imperial Council and the Trasidar Monarch. The Imperial King Madarick Lluch IV and the young prince, who still did not have his iron hands back then, Prince Tamiron Lluch.
The Imperial King leaned a little toward the young Trasidar Prince, whispering something into his ear. He vividly recalled the expression on the prince’s face, a smile that befuddled him. It was a hot and breezy afternoon, surrounded by commoners that were happy to see them, too.
His father then leaned towards his ear and instructed, “My son, go on and be with the Trasidar Prince. The Imperial King and I have important matters to talk about,” the King said in hushed tones.
“Do I have to?” he complained at the time, whining about the extra effort he was about to exert.
“Yes, and who knows, you two might get along,” his father encouraged with a smile.
“I doubt it,” he mumbled.
Before he knew it, he found himself being pulled by the Trasidian Prince as he ran around the gardens. He just stood there, as he looked at this prince. Dumbfounded by the carefreeness that the imperial prince showed. Then Tamiron playfully threw small rocks at him, annoying him enough to start a chase around the palace grounds.
The laughter from the prince echoed in his memory. As he thought of it now, he just chuckled at the mere annoyance it brought him when he was younger. They raced through the gardens, beating at every shrub. The day was filled with fun, and even the guards and palace staff enjoyed watching them. As they approached the end of the palace gardens, Tamiron tripped. The guards rushed forward, but Tamiron suddenly stood up and prompted the guards to halt. He helped him to dust off and noticed a minor scratch on the prince’s knee.
“We should go inside and just sit in the library. We don’t want you to get hurt anymore,” he advised Tamiron, sensing the pain from the scratch. It made him curious, though, as to why Tamiron continued to clean the wound when someone else could do it for him.
“You know, there are servants for that,” he pointed at the approaching servants, ready to attend to the young prince. Tamiron just smiled back at him and finished off the cleaning. He waved at the servants to show he was fine already.
“Come on, Ravaen. Let’s go to that tall oak tree over there. It has a good view of the city,” Tamiron urged and dashed off. Ravaen was still bothered. Everything was done for him simply because he was a prince, he flew towards Tamiron, who was trying to figure out a way to climb the tree.
He lifted him by the back and carried him to the top, settling him on a big branch. He arched his shoulders as he rested his wings.
“Tamiron, why didn’t you let your servants help you? You should have let them. That is their duty,” he said to the smiling Tamiron.
“You know, Ravaen, not everything will have to be done for you,” he said. “Yes, they are here to serve us, to make our lives easier. But that should not be the case every time,”
He just stared at Tamiron in awe.
“We, the future leaders of our kingdoms, should learn firsthand that we must endure pain for our people to make their lives better. To sacrifice for the people,” he continued, turning to Ravaen with a big smile. “So my little scratch is nothing compared to what people endure to make their lives better. I love my kingdom and I love the people. And the day that I become king, I will make it my priority to make their lives better because my father always said, Happy people lead to a happy kingdom and in turn, will make the kingdom stronger and closer,” Tamiron declared.
Since that day, Tamiron had a profound influence on him.
He still recalled the depth of Tamiron’s love for his country and his people. They stayed on the branch overlooking the city, and beyond it was the Great Tree towering over the horizon.
Why the sudden change? Those words he said years ago now made him concerned about The Empire. What would happen to them if he left?
Reflecting on those early years, he remembered how, even at a young age, Tamiron already showed something he didn’t have — compassion and love for his people. As he grew older, he acknowledged that he couldn’t match Tamiron’s dedication. Glancing at the statue of his father, he smiled.
“Without Tamiron, I wouldn’t be who I am today,” he suddenly expressed.
Ferrier only turned to him and smiled. “May I ask you a favor?”
He looked at the diplomat and asked. “What is it?”
Ferrier turned to him and held his hand tightly. “If you ever decide to answer Menoich’s call, I ask you — not as a representative of the will of the Arch Chancellor and the Imperial Council, but as a concerned subject of the Monarch. Please do whatever it takes to bring our beloved Prince back,”
In Ferrier’s eyes, he saw something he hoped his people felt about him too — a result of Tamiron’s compassion and love for their people. “I will,” he vowed to honor their undying love and affection.
They walked forward towards a huge terrace on the branch, just over the edge. Both of them took in deep breaths as they looked on.
“I should really live here, at the Great Tree. Besides the fresh air, the view is amazing,” Ferrier said.
He chuckled as he looked down upon the green canvas of the surface with it, the view from afar, the city of Gramork, still surrounded by its splendid color of flowers.
End of Chapter IV