All was calm in Petalia, the flowering kingdom within one of the Seven Lands. The sun’s warm rays shone down intensely on the villages that surround the main castle where the royal family resided. Its pink spires could be seen from any vantage point in the kingdom.

On this day, the people were going about their daily duties. Merchants were opening their shops, bar keepers prepared to supply the village drunks with their daily drink, constables prepared to protect and serve. Other folks who didn’t have to do any of that stuff were out running errands and buying things. The day was promising to be quite a boring one. There was a collective hope that it would remain this way.

Petalia had been far too exciting the past few months. Warring kingdoms had gotten ornery and started attacking Petalia. The attacks were never severe and no one was ever hurt too badly. Troops from invading kingdoms mostly taunted the monarchy with threats of being overthrown. A couple of large rocks were so lightly tossed into the villages via trebuchets, but nothing too serious. The monarchy of Petalia often wondered why these other kingdoms even bothered coming in the first place. This problem was usually handled by the King’s army chasing the enemies away. Once their enemies left, life returned to normal.

For more extreme threats, the kingdom depended on a small group of heroes called The Knights of Petalia. They were the first line of defense in all supernatural and magical matters. They kicked so much butt that the King personally hired them regularly. Petalia was pretty lucky to have these folks around, especially today.

In the royal castle, a messenger rushed through the halls carrying an important piece of paper. Even though he was in a hurry, he made time to make eye contact and say hello to the people he passed along the way. There were many royal servants in the halls today, so he felt obliged to greet every one of them until he reached the throne room. The doors were closed, which meant the monarchy did not want to be disturbed, but this was urgent. The messenger had a small crisis of faith for a few seconds, wondering what he should do. He finally closed his eyes and knocked quietly four times. He half hoped they wouldn’t hear him, allowing him the chance to run away with his head still on his shoulders. He knew that was a bit dramatic. The monarchy was quite benevolent and would never resort to beheadings, but he knew he was risking being yelled at for disturbing them. He didn’t like the yelling.

“Hello?” said a young man’s voice. It belonged to the first prince of Petalia, Chrysanthemum Bartholomew Theophilous the Second.

The messenger winced at the idea that he had interrupted something important. “My apologies, Your Grace, but I have a message that demands your immediate attention.” He heard the sound of chair legs being scraped across a tile floor. Soon footsteps approached the large red, wooden double doors. A second later, the doors opened to reveal a large room heavily decorated in blue and silver drapes, shields, and painted walls. On the immediate left was a long rectangular table complete with a blue and silver table cloth. There sat the king, Oleander Bartimaeus Theophilus the First, rotund and jolly looking, and the queen Jasmine Catherine Palmer-Theophilous, very elegant, very demure, eating breakfast. The messenger immediately bowed and presented the prince with the paper. “I apologize for the disruption.”

Chrys, the dashing brown skinned gentleman with a well maintained afro, just smirked and winked at the messenger. “No big deal. We’re just talking about how we can somehow crush our enemies and bathe in their blood, nothing important.” He took the paper and gave it a glance with his stunning hazel eyes before shutting the doors in the messenger’s face.

The messenger heard Chrys walk back to the table and sit down. He let out a sigh of relief. His job was done. Now he could go back to the office and work on those reports that were overdue. He made haste as he left the castle and hoped not to return for a long while.

***

Reading the message more intently, Chrys rolled his eyes upon finishing it. He looked up at his father and asked, “Are you sure we need them? Maybe I could take care of it. I can have my troops ready in a matter of minutes.” His father gave him a condescending grin, which was the equivalent of a pat on the head. He knew he’d been denied. He shook his head and bit his lip. “Fine.” He stood up and stormed out of the room, slamming the doors behind him. The echoes filled the open spaces of the throne room.

Oleander and Jasmine glanced at each other in confusion. “Was it something I said?” he asked. She just shrugged her shoulders and went back to eating her omelet, which by now was cold. She supposed that breakfast was over anyway. It was a shame, it had been a good omelet.

This story originates from a different website. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

***

Chrys stomped through the halls of the castle mumbling under his breath. It wasn’t fair that his father called on the Heroic Knights so often when he and his troops were perfectly capable of handling whatever was going on. It didn’t help that the leader of the Knights was his younger brother, Prince Jonquil Balthazar Theophilous the Third. It was clear who the favorite son was and Chrys found it offensive.

There was no need to suck up to his brother and his friends. Sure, they fought monsters and stuff, but the Knights destroyed far more than they saved. The cost of repairs skyrocketed since the Knights got together last year. It galled him that the kingdom lauded them with high praise while he was the one who had to pick up the pieces when the Knights were done wrecking everything.

Petalia used to be a place where nothing exciting ever happened. Since the Knights got together, Petalia had become a point of interest for their enemies. Every low-level villain thought they could gain infamy by being the one who took out the Knights of Petalia. This unwanted attention had put the lives of the surrounding villages in constant danger countless times. In Chrys’s opinion, the Knights ought to be disbanded, but his father won’t hear of it. This was just another thing that his brother got away with.

He was so much in his feelings that he didn’t realize he’d arrived at Quil’s quarters sooner than he expected. His sour mood made the journey from the center of the castle to the far east wing quicker. He knocked on the door strongly. “Quil! Are you in there?”

There was the sound of rustling sheets and “uhh’s” on the other side. “Wait a minute,” Quil said.

Chrys didn’t have a minute; the fate of the kingdom could be in jeopardy. He grabbed the door handle and pushed open the door. He immediately wished he hadn’t. He was graced with the view of his younger brother and his lover, fellow Knight, Jacobus Wentworth, in bed in a precarious position. “Oh, god!” He closed his eyes and shut the door.

“You deserved that!” Quil shouted with a hint of satisfaction. He brushed his nose length locs out of his face to better see the shock on his brother’s face. He was too late, the door was already closed.

“Goddammit, Quil!” Chrys shouted back.

“What do you want?”

“Father has requested for the Knights to assemble at once.” The words felt like lava as they poured out of his mouth, leaving his tongue tasteless. “Assuming you have time, that is. I’m sure we can wait until you’re done mucking around.” He banged on the door, which forced it open again. He didn’t look this time, he just left. He growled as he tried to expunge the images from mind. He didn’t even know a human could bend that way.

***

In the bedroom, Jaco and Quil quickly jumped out of bed and searched for their clothes.

“Why does he hate you so much?” Jaco asked, stuffing himself into his tight black pants. His white face was still red from the embarrassment of getting caught in flagrante delicto. “I mean, if looks could kill, we’d be dead.”

Quil shook his head. “He’s been a real pain in the ass since we got together, the Knights, that is.” He couldn’t find his underwear. He looked on the floor by the bed where they should have been, but they weren’t there. He searched the sheets, but they weren’t there either. He decided that maybe he wasn’t meant to wear underwear, he was always losing them. He found his blue pants with the silver belt and put them on. He found his blue shirt and shoved it on. He went to his closet and pulled out his leather armor and his shiny silver cape.

“There’s your Captain Petalia costume,” Jaco teased.

Quil rolled his eyes. “You know I hate it when you call it that. It’s not a costume, it’s a uniform.”

“Whatever you say, Cap’n.” Jaco saluted.

Quil finished getting dressed. All Jaco needed were his pants. He didn’t wear shoes or a shirt because they always got shredded when he transformed into his werewolf beast mode. He invested in some spandex pants that stretched to fit his alternate form. It was hard walking around without shoes, but his feet had grown calluses, so it didn’t hurt as much as it used to.

Quil looked at his nightstand and saw the pink crystal communication device resting on it, next to his red pair of underwear. He grabbed the device and pressed the number 8 on the number pad and it opened a channel. A second later, he heard the replies from the other Heroes. “It’s time to suit up. We got a mission!” The others confirmed that they would arrive at the castle soon. He closed the channel and put the device in his pocket. “We shouldn’t keep Father waiting.”

“Heaven forbid,” Jaco said, winking at Quil. “But I think he can wait just a little bit longer!” He approached Quil and kissed him full on the lips. Quil gave in. A servant came to the door and started to enter, but she saw what was happening and quickly found somewhere else to be. Quil lifted a finger and the door magically shut, giving the two of them some privacy.