A resounding clamor erupted from the bustling streets, a jubilant symphony resonating with the beating heart of the people. Two majestic Illyphandes paraded through the thoroughfare—one adorned in the resplendent colors of the empire and bearing the regal Imperial Family, while the other displayed the distinctive sigil and hues of the middle kingdom. Their trunks resonated with the triumphant blare of horns, echoing the elation that swept through the crowd in celebration of their visit.
She, unaccustomed to such opulence, stood in awe as her eyes traversed the capital of the most prosperous kingdom in the world. Amidst the grandeur, her curiosity fixated on the enigmatic figure beside her—the one and only Prince Tamiron.
Brief glimpses revealed the stark contrast between the prince and his twin sister, Princess Tamara. While she cheerfully waved to the crowds on her left, Prince Tamiron wore a stoic expression, his countenance rarely graced by a smile. He observed the people with a detached demeanor, punctuating the air with brief, rehearsed smiles and intermittent small waves.
“He’s not enjoying it,” she mused.
Suddenly, the prince’s face lit up with the widest smile she had ever witnessed, as if attempting to connect with someone in the throng. Dismissing it from her mind, she joined in the collective wave of the crowd.
“Halt!” Tamiron’s command pierced the festive atmosphere.
Surprised, she witnessed the abrupt halt of the parade. Tamiron had already abandoned their sizable carriage, and her gaze fixated on him as he gracefully waved through the crowd, the imperial guard dutifully on guard as they followed behind him.
Perplexed, she turned to her mother, engrossed in a conversation with the Imperial King, an evident concern etched on her face regarding the Prince’s unexpected actions.
Moments passed, and the guards began clearing a path for Tamiron, escorting an old, frail man alongside him. The scene left her bewildered. Glancing at Tamara, she noticed her twin’s apparent disinterest, a reaction that deepened her confusion.
Seeking answers, she turned to her mother, who mirrored her own state of perplexity. The Imperial King’s dignified presence offered a semblance of reassurance.
Tamiron rose once more from the carriage, overseeing the guards and ushering the elderly man into their conveyance. With a signal, he declared the parade to resume, and the parade did so, the crowd’s cheers amplifying in enthusiasm.
Returning to her senses, she found Tamiron, now back to his usual self, observing her with an amused smile.
“Your tongue is about to fall off,” he remarked.
Startled and embarrassed, she promptly covered her mouth. “Why did you do that?” she blurted out.
Tamiron cast a brief glance her way before explaining, “The crowd is too big, and even though the street is large, it is still packed. A lot of people might faint due to the intense heat.”
A revelation struck her—Tamiron had been monitoring the crowd for signs of distress.
“Were you watching for fainting people all this time, then?” she asked as she remembered his demeanor earlier.
“Yes,” he affirmed.
Baffled, she pressed on, “But, couldn’t you assign someone to attend to the old man or station guards at specific points for that purpose?”
“We’ve already tried that. Despite our efforts, controlling the crowd is challenging. Besides, being elevated allows me a better view of the people,” Tamiron explained.
“You’re the Imperial Prince; you’ve already done your part. Shouldn’t that be enough? You could’ve let the guards handle it,” she argued. Tamiron only chuckled.
“If you want people to follow you and do what is right, you must set an example for them,” he replied, waving to emphasize his point. His unexpected maturity surprised her; she had anticipated a more typical response from someone their age. Like what she encounters back at home.
He tapped her shoulder and directed her attention to one of the guard points they had discussed. There, she witnessed people assisting those struggling with the heat, realizing they were following Tamiron’s compassionate example.
“You’re their prince. What you’ve said should be enough. They’re obligated to follow you,” she insisted.
Tamiron sighed and responded, “It’s our duty to make our people happy and improve their lives. Setting a proper example is crucial. Compassion towards the people fosters a similar sentiment in return. Their loyalty will be guaranteed once you demonstrate it, or something even greater.”
“What’s greater than loyalty, then?” she asked, hoping he couldn’t conceive of anything more significant.
Tamiron met her gaze with a smile, answering, “To be loved.” He left her speechless, presenting her with a wooden tamaraw.
“What’s this?” she asked, puzzled.
“A gift. Keep it. It’s my personal token for you,” Tamiron explained.
If you stumble upon this tale on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.
“But we already gave you a token,” she said, confused.
“That’s my token to you as a personal friend, silly,” Tamiron laughed.
His words lingered in her thoughts every day since then. Her admiration for the Imperial Prince remained unwavering, especially when he visited to train with them, aspiring to be a warrior he would respect and notice.
Throughout the years, her admiration deepened, her heart skipping a beat with every news of the Prince’s exploits. Proud of his accomplishments, she marveled at the person she looked up to as he reached new heights.
And then...
“I still can’t believe what Imperial Diplomat Moselei just told us,” a Tigris councilor lamented, throwing her admiration for the Prince to a profound test. The news of his rebellion against the empire shook her to her very core.
“The rumors had already spread across the kingdom even before this confirmation from an Imperial Official. I’m afraid that we have no choice in the matter now,” voiced another council member.
Staring blankly, she attempted to process the information as the meeting pressed on. Suddenly, she felt a gentle touch in her hand. Snapping out of her daze, she turned to her mother, the Mistrell, who looked at her with concern.
“Kaira, are you alright?” the Mistrell inquired.
“I am, Mother,” she responded, though it was evident that the news had affected her deeply.
“My daughter and I will decide on this ourselves. I believe there is no need to involve the entire middle kingdom regarding this,” the Mistrell declared.
“But, Mistrell liege—”
“That is all. You are all dismissed,” the Mistrell stated as she rose. The others hurriedly stood, and her mother guided her as they left the meeting room, emerging onto the palace balcony. Both of them breathed in the cold night air, surrounded by the city lights and the cascading waterfalls, with the moon overseeing the scene.
“Kaira, my daughter. What is on your mind right now?” the Mistrell asked.
“I... I don’t know what to think, Mother,” she replied, her voice reflecting her stunned state. Her grip tightened as she crossed her arms, attempting to make sense of the overwhelming information.
“You have called for me, your Grace?” the imperial diplomat said, bowing to them.
“Yes, Diplomat Moselei,” the Mistrell acknowledged. “You two may go. We will talk. All three of us.” The guards swiftly departed, leaving them on the terrace.
“Tigeria is as beautiful as always. With the raging four waterfalls of the continent, it only adds to the uniqueness and beauty of your humble capital,” Moselei remarked as he joined them on the terrace.
“Is this your first time here, Moselei?” the Mistrell inquired.
“Yes. I must say, the sheer magnificence of the scale and ingenuity of the race of men,” he exhaled in appreciation.
“It is sad they are all but gone from this world,” the Mistrell acknowledged. “They are with the Karinhawis now, if I’m not mistaken. But there isn’t a lot of them anymore.”
“I will join the mission, Diplomat,” she declared, drawing the attention of Moselei and her mother. Then she turned to the diplomat and added, “But I will not end his life.”
Moselei sighed in relief, surprising her with his reaction.
Puzzled, she was expecting some sort of argument from the diplomat. She was already prepared to defend her decision, tooth and nail, but all she got was acknowledgement. “You won’t object?” she sought confirmation.
“I’m actually here to plead for you to try to find out what’s really going on with His Highness. I’m relieved that your friendship still perseveres,” Moselei revealed.
“Tamiron was a good student and a mentor,” she clarified. “As he learned from me, I learned a great deal from him. As a student of mine, I need to know why he did what he did. This is just all too unlike him.”
“As you said, Princess Kaira,” Moselei bowed for a moment, then handed her a piece of paper.
She examined it before taking it, studying the contents.
“That is where you will meet the others, Princess,” Moselei said with a smile. “I hope that you all get along well.” As he began to walk away.
“Returning to Tamara now, Diplomat?” the Mistrell inquired.
“No, I’m afraid I have to head north now, Your Highness,” Moselei explained.
“So you really are going to try and gather everyone,” the Mistrell clarified. She took a deep breath and added, “I wish you luck in the North, then.”
“Safe travels, Imperial Diplomat Moselei,” she said, focusing on the location.
“Thank you, Mistrell and Princess Kaira,” Moselei said, bowed out, and finally left. She examined the map’s contents as her mother rubbed her shoulders.
“You should depart soon too. The others might already be there,” the Mistrell suggested.
Taking a deep breath, she swiftly folded the paper and placed it in her left breast pocket. “I’ll only be grabbing a few things, and I will depart immediately, Mother,” she declared as she left for her room.
“Be safe, my daughter,” was all she received from her mother as she hastily made her way to her room. Thoughts raced through her mind about the times she and Tamiron trained together, their talks, and their aspirations for the future.
It was still in her mind. In her memories. She will never forget his dream for his people. She will never forget the real Tamiron that she knew. She will find out what’s going on and no one will stop her from finding out the truth.
As she entered her room, she quickly grabbed a bag and packed the essentials for the journey. Satisfied with her preparations, she glanced around to ensure she hadn’t forgotten anything. Something caught her eye, and her lips trembled at the sight.
Swiftly grabbing it, she kissed it gently and held it against her beating heart. “Just what are you doing?” she whispered, looking at the wooden tamaraw Tamiron had given her when they were young. She tucked it into her bag and headed for the meeting place.
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
In the gentle afternoon breeze, the birds serenaded Everess as she gazed upon the overgrown path. Watching the carriage gradually vanish from her view, she turned her attention to the winding trail leading to the temple.
Taking tentative steps, she embarked on the journey toward the temple, where the harmonious tunes of birds and the gentle rustling of leaves enveloped the air. The absence of fear or worry fascinated her as she approached the temple.
The towering structure, visible through the untamed forest, hinted at years of neglect in this part of the empire, as if nature itself had been given free rein. The clearing revealed the Eldemenster’s temple before her.
Breathing in deeply, she marveled at the temple’s magnificence. Drawing closer, she observed the encircling forest, seemingly reluctant to encroach upon the sacred grounds. Intrigued, she pondered who might be responsible for maintaining this untouched place, devoid of any signs of habitation.
Ascending the steps, she discerned a silhouette—a man with tucked wings. Proceeding cautiously, she noted the man’s half-covered face adorned with small feathers and eyes of sky blue.
“The stories this place holds,” the man’s voice resonated, echoing through the temple. He, too, surveyed his surroundings, captivated by the same fascination that enthralled her. “If the walls could talk. The stories they could tell. Right, Princess Everess?”
Stunned by the man’s knowledge of her identity, she inquired, “And you are?”
Turning slowly, the man revealed half his face covered in small feathers, with eyes as blue as the sky. “I am Prince Ravaen Adevok of the Mystic Falcons,” he answered with a smirk. “Now tell me, Princess. Why did they choose you?”
Faced with his question, she took a deep breath, uncertain whether she should reveal the reasons behind her selection.
End of Chapter XI