Ten Years Ago

Fullprince Ro-Lin stood upon the balcony of the Celestial Keep, eyes fixed over the land that would one day be his.

His long white hair flowed with the winds, swaying melodically with his ceremonial coat. It was a beautiful city that spread before him- hundreds of small houses that rose and lowered through the uneven terrain, all surrounded by the vast mountains that protected the Valley of the Moon. To the west, the harbor was filled with ships from across all of Arisus.

It was the difference between them which fascinated Ro-Lin so. He’d studied them as a boy; he’d seen how the Nagatsu junk ships varied from the more elegant Arahnian triremes. Their furled sails decorated the coast, telling the story of a thousand puzzle pieces which have each come together from their respective homes to be here, to form a greater whole on this night. He longed to be a piece of such a puzzle. Behind him, a celebration raged ever onward. Among the revelry and merriment, Ro-Lin focused on the only sound he had wanted to hear that night: the unpredictable flow of the wind around him. He was safe within it- after all, it was as indecisive as he was.

Before he knew it, he was no longer alone. The bright, luminous dress of Noe Ashu glided against the stone railing next to him. Thin crystal rods stuck from her tied hair, glinting a mesmerizing pattern in the moonlight.

“Now, brother,” she said. “You wouldn’t miss your own celebration, would you?”

He smiled. “Not for the moon, nor all the stars. The real celebration is out there; It’s the dusty nobles inside who are the ones missing it.”

“Is that so?” the princess said. “Then perhaps we should be on our way. I couldn’t stay here any longer anyway.” She lifted her chin, failing to hide her grin behind a sarcastic regality. “Will I be overdressed?”

The Fullprince looked at her dress. It was of the finest Lunarian silk that money could buy. “Almost certainly.”

“Lovely!” She beamed a smile as bright as the moon itself. Her eyes flicked between his and the rolling city and, almost simultaneously, the two vaulted over the railing into the air below.

The two Wyr-Souls Lightened themselves, landing gently on the rooftop below them, and ran across the shingled roof of the Keep. It was rare for a family to be born with one Wyr-Soul, let alone two. The presence of the Wyr-Souls in such a high profile family was an especially great anomaly. Ro-Lin’s cloth shoes beat upon the deep blue rooftop, the ceramic tiles clacking against each other with each step. The summer months were kind to them- the sky was clear and the full luminosity of the moon shone above them. Noe giggled as they leapt from rooftop to rooftop, nearly alerting the hapless, armored howlers patrolling the darkened courtyard.

Together, they slipped over the castle wall, just as they’ve done hundreds of times in the past. The City of Lunaria City opened up to them, breathing them into the dirt and stone roads that wove their way over the city’s cliffsides. Rushing waterfalls fell into thin rivers, sutured throughout the city by rounded wooden bridges. They dashed through small gardens and animal enclosures, finally reaching the destination of their trek. It was a large building, much more rounded than the square buildings surrounding them. A large paper screen door stood at the entrance. Silhouettes of bobbing and rocking personages painted its surface, lit by the flickering light of lanterns.

Ro-Lin and Noe walked to the building, sliding the screen open and walking inside. The interior of this building was filled with some of the more lecherous citizens of Lunaria City. Most of these people had their backs to the siblings, instead more focused on the center of the large round room. Just past the illegal wine bar, obscured by a haze of burned starcap smoke, was a large circular platform upon which two shirtless men engaged in a Lunarian duel. Each held a thin curved blade, and slowly circled the platform. Noe and Rolen bounded into the room, drawing more and more looks as they did so.

Eventually, even the duelists became distracted by the two. Their sights fell from each other onto the pair, and suddenly the attention of the audience itself had shifted. Now, rather than watching the dance of death before them, every person in the room became acutely aware of the brightly clothed royals in the room. Ro-Lin stepped forward first, as one of the fighters began to step down. The room was silent with anticipation. The swordsman, a muscular elf with tied black hair, looked down to the Fullprince. Across his chest swung a pendant, perfectly circular and stark white.

“So,” he said. “The Fullprince wanders into the Lion’s Den on the night of his Tiding Ceremony. Not only that, but the Princess is here as well! To what do I owe the pleasure?” Dozens of eyes moved from the man to Ro-Lin.

“Thought I’d get one more duel in before the big night,” said the Fullprince. “After all, I don’t deserve my title if I can’t cross swords with the likes of you.”

The swordsman smiled, cracking his neck. “Well, come on then, Fullprince.”

This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

He extended his hand, which Ro-Lin grabbed enthusiastically. The audience cheered, drops of milky rice wine falling upon Ro-Lin’s coat. The other fighter stepped aside, a grin also expanding across his face as he joined the crowd. Noe stood next to the platform, as close as she could approach.

“Don’t take it easy on me, Badru. I don’t need to get back to the ceremony in one piece.”

Badru said nothing, but sheathed his sword at his side. Ro-Lin held the bright white grip of his own sword, his fingers curling over the familiar braided rope. The room was silent again as both swordsmen locked eyes, daring the other to engage in the first strike. Ro-Lin stepped forward, testing the waters of his opponent. He did not flinch, or even step backwards. He knew he was out of range of the Fullprince’s swing. It was often the first to enter their opponent’s range that would be cut down- a fact which both swordsmen knew.

Another fact, one of great importance, was that the winner of a duel was often decided by their patience. If Ro-Lin made a costly mistake, such as striking too quickly, he could find himself losing the duel or even his life. His opening came when Badru acted first- a minute movement, the slightest draw of his blade. Ro-Lin stepped again, placing himself off of the line of Badru’s strike. The blade flew past him, faster than his eyes could register, and he drew his own sword from its wooden sheath. At first, he drew it only halfway; he had stepped close enough to use not his blade, but the sword’s pommel as a striking instrument. It slammed just below Badru’s ribs, forcing an urgent grunt from his lips.

The swordsman’s weapon arced through the air again just as Ro-Lin drew his full blade, parrying the blow. The royal sword was unsheathed now, glinting in the soft light of the lanterns. The curved blade was steady in the air, at a length just longer than the Fullprince’s arm. It shimmered in the air, the blade perfectly crafted with the finest mix of Lunarian metals. The two men squared off once again, the roar of the crowd surrounding them fading into a dull buzz.

With a crack, the swords collided again, sending white sparks flying over the crowd. Ro-Lin kicked at his opponent, sending him stumbling back. The Fullprince wasted no time as he stepped in, the point of his sword rushing towards Badru’s throat. His sword, however, was a distraction from the real attack. Ro-Lin swept his foot over the rough platform, striking the already unbalanced swordsman just below the knee and sending him toppling to the floor. He held back, stopping the sword from piercing the man, just as his opponent’s sword raised to block the strike.

Badru laid breathless on his back, the Lunarian steel pressing lightly against his neck. The Fullprince smirked, extending a hand to his fallen friend. Badru smiled in return and took his hand, rising from the ground to meet his eye.

“Didn’t even have to use your magic tricks,” said Badru. “You’ve grown.”

“It’s not magic,” said Ro-Lin for the millionth time. They laughed, both sheathing their swords. The pair of fighters stepped off the rounded stage, each with a wide grin on their face.

“Shouldn’t you be, I don’t know, getting fitted for your crown right now?” Badru took a wooden cup from the bar and handed it to Ro-Lin.

He sipped it, allowing the sweet wine to fill his mouth before he swallowed. “The Ceremony itself is practically over. I said my Vows- why should I be there any longer? The fun is down here, anyway.”

“Nonsense,” Badru said. “If I were the son of a king, I’d never leave that castle on the hill. Yet here you are, slumming it with all the pearlmen on the bottom of the kingdom’s barrel. You know, it was my ancestors who built that keep. Perhaps we should move the pearlmen up there, and the ruler and all his family can live down here, in the mud.”

“I wouldn’t mind that much. I spend most of my time with pearlmen, you know.”

“Yeah, but you’re the only one that’d do that out of your kind. Nobles, I mean. There’s a reason you two are the only nobles anyone down here has met, you know.”

Ro-Lin looked over the room. A light haze of smoke cast a veil over the smiling faces in the tavern. “Yeah,” he said. “Well, I’m going to be doing things differently. Who says a king can’t serve his people at their side? The old man sits in that damned keep all day, how would he ever know what the real problems are?” He shook his cup. “Like the shortage of wine, for instance.”

Badru smiled and refilled Ro-Lin’s cup. “Please. Is he not busy up there, trying to figure out which war to spend our taxes on?” He quickly ran his fist over his heart in a crescent shape- the typical display of fealty when one has insulted their king.

Behind Ro-Lin, Noe giggled. “You’d worry so much about the King when there’s a parched princess just in front of you? Honor before chivalry, I see.”

Badru shook the round bottle of wine. “Had to make sure there wasn’t any poison in there. So far I feel-” He stopped, grabbing at his throat. His eyes went wide as he pretended to choke. The three of them laughed, each raising a cup.

“To this!” said Ro-Lin before mumbling, "Mostly everything else, too.” They each drank.

“What does that even mean, ‘To this?’” Noe said. She raised her hands in imitation.

“You know,” Ro-Lin waved his arms, gesturing over the room. “This. Whatever it might mean to you. To me, it’s a little bit of freedom.”

“And you, Badru? What does it mean to you?”

“All I know is that after he says that, I get to drink.”

Ro-Lin chuckled, and quickly realized that his laugh became the only one in the room. He turned and his eyes swept over the crowd, who now kneeled towards the paper screen door. He continued following their gaze to see Noe, with a troubled look on her face, the kind of look that told Ro-Lin we’ve made a mistake. His eyes settled on the doorway, which was surrounded by men in white and blue armor, the coloration of the howlers. Between them, with a presence that overshadowed even the most fearsome of the soldiers around him, was Ro-Lin’s father, the King of Lunaria. He looked down his short white beard at his children, a disappointed snarl rolling over his face.