Throughout most of the return trip from Ashur to Eos, Quillon rambled on about all of his speculations about who would become the next Prince of Eos. These speculations quickly devolved into Quillon arguing why it made the most sense that he should become the next Prince. Feng and Edric were both wise enough to refrain from engaging in the argument, but Damek took the bait and immediately attacked the idea as the most foolish thing he had ever heard.

“You left Eos,” said Damek, “And sold your soul to The Sovereign. How could the sages possibly pick a Regime dog as the next Prince?”

“Choosing me may be the only way that Eos gets to remain Eos,” said Quillon, smirking. “The Regime is on the brink of open war with the Republican Confederation, and Eos sits right in the border space between them. Either The Regime will conquer Eos, or the Confederation will. If the sages choose me, at least the transition of power will be a peaceful one.”

Damek spat. “If the sages make a mistake that foolish, the Eternal King himself will come back to set things right. And punish them.”

Quillon folded his arms. “What makes you so sure the Eternal King is real, brother?”

Edric and Feng stayed out of the intense theological debate that soon followed. Every time Damek spoke, it was in a louder tone than the last time, with harsher and fouler words spoken. All the while, Quillon kept a confident smirk on his lips and often laughed out loud at Damek’s threats.

Edric repeated the words, “I am stone,” under his breath over and over, and he never showed any hint of an emotional reaction to his half-brothers’ verbal battle. He would not get swept up in the floodwaters of their vitriol.

When the Shell’s pilot finally announced, “We’ve arrived,” Edric whispered a prayer of thanks to the Eternal King.

A gap opened in the floor, and tendrils took hold of the four brothers to lower them down to the gardens outside the Royal Palace again. The sages stood in a line before them, with the Grand Sage in the center. All the people in attendance at the funeral, common and noble alike, stared ahead at the four men.

The Grand Sage was the only one to speak. “Is it done?”

Edric said, “Yes. Father’s remains have been taken by the clouds of Ashur.”

“Thank you,” said the Grand Sage. “All four of you. Thank you for taking on the burden of seeing that your father’s body was treated properly.”

“It was no trouble,” chimed in Quillon. “I’m just glad it’s done.”

“While you were away,” said the Grand Sage, “We spoke to the common people and announced your father’s successor.”

Feng flicked back a lock of scarlet hair that had been caught in the wind. “One of us? Must be. Why else would you wait for the four of us to be away before making the announcement?”

“The one we have chosen,” said the Grand Sage, “will still have the free will to refuse. But know that the people here have heard of your deeds. We spoke of your great accomplishments while you were gone, and prepared the people for this decision. You should know that all four of you,” Rami gestured to each of the brothers, “have great triumphs to your name worth celebrating, and that each of you was considered to become your father’s successor. This was a difficult decision, but we have come to a consensus, and we wish to announce the successor today.”

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Though Edric’s head did not move, his eyes wandered to Feng, Damek, and finally Quillon. Upon settling on his white-haired brother, who’d joined a foreign army and forsaken the faith of their people, he failed to suppress his own anger for just a moment and his fists clenched.

“Edric,” said the Grand Sage.

His fists released, enjoying the relief. “Me?” said Edric, his eyes returning to the Grand Sage.

Grand Sage Rami bowed, and the rest of the sages followed. Soon, those in the crowd did the same. Rami said, “Yes, you. Sir Edric of the Knights Justicar, we call upon you to take your father’s place as Prince of Eos, protector of our world, keeper of the ancient ways, and right arm of the Eternal King. Will you accept this mantle and swear the Oaths of the Crown?”

Once more, Edric’s eyes wandered to his brothers, both those standing beside him and those still in the crowd. Feng’s face held a satisfied grin. Damek simply looked relieved. Quillon’s his eyes narrowed to wound-like slits. His half-brothers in the crowd were a mosaic of shock, acceptance, joy, and envy.

Edric started to shake his head, but before his refusal could be voiced, Quillon shouted, “I challenge his right to rule!”

Murmurs rippled through the crowd.

The Grand Sage waved a dismissing hand, “You have no right to challenge his rule.”

“Quite the contrary,” said Quillon. “I’ve studied enough history lessons to know that we once had a tradition here on Eos: The Brand Tribunal. One heir could challenge another to a contest to prove who would make the better protector.”

The Grand Sage pointed at Quillon. “That tradition hasn’t been practiced in over two-hundred years.”

“Why not?” Quillon demanded.

Edric allowed some of his anger to take its place in his heart and snapped, “Because one does not need to be a good swordsman to be a good protector. A Prince of Eos need not show that he is able to kill, only that he is willing to die to save his people.” Edric turned his body towards Quillon, his brow furrowed and his head trembling with rage. “And you would do well to remember your place when speaking to the Grand Sage.”

More uncomfortable murmurs from the crowd. Feng and Damek both backed away from Quillon and Edric.

As if he’d not heard Edric’s rebuke, Quillon flicked back a lock of raggedy white hair and said, “You’re just making excuses for your own cowardice, Edric.”

Edric’s head swayed back and forth. “It is not my place to bet this world’s future on a duel with you. But I would gladly take up arms to teach you a lesson in respect.”

Quillon cackled and pointed at Edric. “This is your ruler to be, people! A snivelling sook who’s too afraid to face me!”

Edric folded his arms. “You will not bait me into your childish games.” He turned to the Grand Sage. “I accept your offer. And I swear that so long as I am Prince of Eos, The Regime will have no claim here. Am I now permitted to give royal commands?”

The Grand Sage said, “Yes, you are, Your Majesty.”

Edric pointed to Quillon, then at the path running up the middle of the crowd. “You will leave at once, my brother. Your lack of decorum has worn out your welcome.”

Quillon glanced around at the sages, his brothers, and the crowd, before finally saying, “As you wish, Your Grace,” and strolling down the long path between the rows of funeral attendees. The three Regime soldiers who’d accompanied him met him in the middle, and he marched off with them until they were out of sight.