Danish and the king arrived at the remnants of Keep Ankaa by midday. From the outside, it looked as though no tragedy had befallen the Keep. Stone walls stood tall; the banner of his family—a vermilion phoenix over a white backdrop—flapped in the wind. However, the lack of guards posted at the gate, or even farmers out in the open fields, proved those who once called this place home were gone.
Rolling the orb with his family’s crest gently in his hands, Danish sat next to the king. In the back of the coach sat the queen and Gregor. Neither had needed to join them on the trip to Ankaa, but had insisted on coming with them.
Before their trip, the king had purchased simple clothes for them all to wear. Going out of his way to even buy the coach and horses from the stables. Discrete travel seemed to be a necessity.
Knots formed in the pit of Danish’s stomach. Air caught in his throat. This is my home.
“Are you all right?” Dante asked. Placing a firm hand against Danish’s shoulder, the king kept his voice soft. “Coming here must be hard on you.” His voice cracked on the last word. Clearly, the pain of revisiting the home of his dead friend had its toll on him as well. This trip was for him just as much as it was for the young Vickery son.
“I don’t know,” admitted Danish. “How am I supposed to feel? This place, this Keep. It’s my home. I was born here. But I have no memories of this place. How am I supposed to feel about a place I know nothing about? Facing the king, Danish held back tears. Not out of pride, but out of confusion. “Am I allowed to miss a place I don’t remember? Mourn those I have no memories of? Is it selfish of me to think nothing of this place?”
Dante combed his beard. “You don’t give me easy questions to answer, Danish.” He put on a brave smile for the young lad. “Your parents would love you, no matter how you feel right now.”
“Are their graves inside?”
“No,” Dante said. With a single movement, he got Danish to shift his gaze toward a nearby lake. A willow grew close to the water’s edge. Draping leaves dipped into the crystal-clear waters. “We buried them under that tree. The place where they met.”
“I would like to see them,” Danish said. He slipped from the passenger position and took off in a sprint. Ignoring whether the king followed or not, the cries of Dante drown out by the rush of wind in his ears.
Coming to a stop, Danish felt his lungs burn and his legs ached. Even with his sword fighting practice, he had not yet built the stamina and muscles for this type of physical exertion.
Resting at the base of the willow sat a plain white stone wedged between two large roots. His parents’ names were left off the marker. Instead, it was marked only with the phoenix of the Vickery family, and the sigil of their mother’s family. An orchid. It wasn’t until that moment that Danish took the moment to consider it. There was a half of his family that he knew nothing about. Not their name, where they were from. Even if they were from a noble house or not. All his life he had only been focused on the memory of his father. The legacy of the house he carried the name of. How could he have been ignorant to the other half of his life?
Dante soon reached Danish’s side. Exhaling deeply as he tried to catch his breath. Caught in the moment, he had followed in Danish’s example and rushed to the willow on foot despite sitting behind the reins of a carriage. There had been no need for either of them to run on foot. “Gods, have I lost it,” laughed the king. “Hard to believe I once fought by your father’s side.”
Danish seemed not to have heard what Dante had said. Shifting the conversation immediately. “What can you tell me about my mother?”
“Huh?” the king expressed his shock. “Your mother? Why, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you ask about her before.”
Danish ran a finger against the engraved orchid. “Was this her family crest? Does she have any living relatives? Why didn’t they watch me grow up?”
“One question at a time.” Thinking over the questions, Dante answered the best he could. “Your mother hails from the family Thornwood. The orchid is the symbol she used to represent herself, as she is unaware of the true crest of her family.
“You see,” Dante held a pause in his sentence. “Your mother was orphaned. Left at an orphanage not long after she was born. Catharina only knew the name of her family due to a letter than had been left with her. She kept it with her through her entire life. Even your father could not convince her to throw it out upon their wedding.”
“I’ve never heard of the Thornwood family,” interrupted Danish. “Where do they live?”
“No one knows,” Dante went on as though nothing had broken his trail of thought. “Many have tried to find information on the Thornwood family, but no matter how much we search, there have been no results.”
“Was she never adopted?”
“Never. People were afraid to take her in after she showed herself capable of magic. Not many can, and those who know nothing of magic are afraid to raise those who can. She went off to train at some temple that specialized in magic. I forgot the name of the place, but in her young teen years she returned to the courts. Quickly becoming the bride of Andreas.”
“And that’s why I was raised by you? Not by any aunts or uncles?” Knowing that his mother’s family was a mystery helped him feel better about never having asked about them. He still felt as though he were rude to his mother’s memory by never having asked, but knowing there would have been no answers helped to sooth those negative feelings.
“Were my brothers buried nearby?” he asked before focusing too heavily on his mother. “Or did you bury them with my parents?”
“Your brothers have no graves,” Dante sounded grim. “Vincent was at Keep Ankaa when the family was attacked, but we weren’t able to fully identify which body was his. As for your eldest brother, he was away at the time. But we were given reports that he died on his way home.”
Disappointed hadn’t even begun to describe the feeling in Danish’s heart. Part of his reasoning for coming to Keep Ankaa was to gain some closure when it came to not only his parents, but his brothers as well.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“You just left us there!” barked Queen Ariya as she stomped her way under the shade of the willow. Gregor not far behind. It felt wrong seeing the two of them in the clothes of common folk. What they wore fit their bodies perfectly, however, it did not fit who they were. Both usually draped in lavish clothes imported from all across Caembra and the neighboring isles. “You could have told us you had planned to go gallivanting instead of just rushing off without a word.”
“It was might fault,” Danish took the blame for his actions. “I was in a hurry to see the grave of my parents. Father only wanted to make sure I was safe.”
Queen Ariya opened her mouth to speak and then chose not to. After some time, she gave a bob of the head. “Yes, I can see how this could play out. Just be more careful next time.”
Anyone would be able to tell she was still irate at having been left behind. Fuming even, but she was willing to hold her tongue for the cause of their actions.
“Can we explore the Keep?” Gregor spoke up.
“Hold your tongue,” the queen quickly tried to silence her son. Afraid of him saying something that might be taken as insulting to the dead in front of Danish.
Like his brother, Danish’s face lit up. “Can we?” It was hard to tell which of the two was more excited by the notion of exploring Ankaa. Orb pressed hard to his chest, Danish let his gaze drift between the royal couple. “We’ll be careful, I promise.”
“It is your home,” Dante said. “However, we can’t deny the fact that others may have taken residence within. Traitors to the crown, or bandits. It may be safer to stay out of the walls.”
Gregor went to protest. Cut off by his mother, “Your father is right. Any number of ruffians and no good scoundrels could have holed themselves within this abandoned place. We must not let our own feelings keep us from rational thought.”
Danish looked to the Keep. Longing to explore the forgotten halls. But his parents were right.
“Danish, come on.” Gregor was trying to get his brother to convince them it would be safe.
He shook his head in reply. “I want to explore it as much as you do.” Eyes never once moving away from the flag billowing in the wind. Grip around his orb tightened. “But if someone is in there, we’ll die.”
“It’s not fair,” whined Gregor. “We came all the way here and we can’t even explore the Keep.”
“Gregor!” snapped Ariya.
Her son snapped to attention. Apologizing frantically. Trying not to draw more ire from the queen.
“Now, don’t worry,” spoke up King Dante. “There is a town not far off from here. We can ask around there. See if anyone has heard anything about the old Vickery Keep having been overrun.”
“Can we stay at an inn?” Danish asked.
“An inn?” Ariya sounded appalled. “We are royals. We shall visit the local lord or mayor. Stay at a respectable establishment.” That was always how Ariya was. Even for their trip to visit the grave of Danish’s parents, she had been reluctant to wear the clothes of a commoner. Both Gregor and Dante seemed to have enjoyed being able to travel and be ignored.
On a typical day, everyone would stop to greet them. Going out of their way to please the royals. Offering them cheaper or free meals, giving their coin and praise.
But on this trip? They had rarely been stopped by others. Most other travelers did nothing more than tip a hat to the king as he drove their coach. One couple had stopped them to ask for directions.
On the road side, they had come across a minstrel and acrobat putting on a show. Many had gathered around to watch. If they had been dressed in the finery of a lord, the people would have opened a path for their family to get a better view. As common folk, they were forced in the back where they just only could see the tricks performed. The sound of the minstrels music and song not as audible as Ariya would have preferred.
“If the boys want to stay at an inn,” Dante spoke up. “Then perhaps we should let them.” His wife cast an icy glare his way. He quickly added on, “Of course, the two of us shall find a nicer place to rest our heads. But the boys, they should be allowed to live experiences they wish to. Besides, Gregor will rule these people one day. Is it not better for him to understand them in a way many kings have never?”
Ariya was of course, not happy with what the king had suggested. That was her son, the prince. Expected to sleep in the same bed that some farmer used? Where a merchant likely had bed a woman of the night? It was impossible to see how this experience would be beneficial for the prince.
“I suppose you might let him,” the king continued, “if it were seen more as a lesson. Think about it. These boys have always lived the easy life. Perhaps sleeping in a dirty inn where they are not waited on hand and foot, they will appreciate what we offer them.”
“I suppose,” Ariya began to crack.
By sundown, Danish and Gregor had been left on their own. A room rented at a mildly comfortable inn called the Dreaming Donkey. Their father had given them a few coins extra to do what they pleased with. They had likely been expected to use their coin to purchase food if the inn’s offerings had been inedible.
Gregor had thought what their father gave them was fake at first. Coins made of copper, it seemed so strange to him. But when he came to know that most commoners rarely touched gold, the prince nearly had a panic attack. After he had settled, the two of them went their separate way from their parents.
Two beds had been prepared for them, and the room came with a dinner. Opposed to the many coursed meals from the castle, they were given stale bread and soup that was mostly just broth.
Downstairs there was a common room where adults gathered to play various games. Betting coin and clothes on who would win.
Gregor had joined in on a game called Sigils.
Cards were passed to the five sat at the table. While Gregor played, Danish stood by his side. Choosing not to join in. Instead, only wanting to watch and learn the rules.
Thankfully, the men they played with were willing to take time to explain the rules to children.
Each player was handed four cards. Cards could one of four colors: blue, red, green, or black, and each card would feature marked with either a snake, wolf, fox, or bear. Each color and animal was assigned a number. Any blue card was worth one point, a red worth two, green worth three, and a black card worth five.
Snake was worth one point, wolf worth three, fox worth four, and bear worth six. The goal of the game was to have the highest value when all your cards were added up. After you received your opening four, you had one of two options. You could replace one card from your hand for the top card of the deck, or draw a fifth. Having a high number was needed to win, however, if you went over a total score of twenty-eight you lost automatically.
It was a simple game. One that anyone could win. So long as you were old enough to hold all your cards.
Dealers for the game were under protection of the law. One was not allowed to physically take their grievances out on the dealer, seeing as it was their duty to help those who were unfamiliar with numbers in adding their score.
Gregor showed his hand to Danish. Two red foxes, a blue wolf, and a black snake. They discussed whether he should draw or trade as the others made their choice. Each card he held was worth a decent number of points, totaling out to twenty-two. Meaning any card combination that added more than six points to his total would put him over the limit. Meaning his safest bet would be to trade a card rather than draw. What he got from replacing a card could either win him the game, or put him at too low a score to win.
Danish urged Gregor to go the safe route and replace a card. Saying his best bet would be to drop the blue wolf, since that would mean only a black bear would put him over the limit.
In the end, he chose to draw. A green snake. Taking his score to twenty-six.
All hands were revealed, and Gregor won out by only two points. Collecting the winnings for the round, he wore a huge grin. Ready to play again. It had only taken one game to get the prince addicted. Even if he ended up losing some—or even all of his coin—it did not matter. He found the game of chance thrilling and worth the risk.
Danish continued to sit by his brother’s side. Never once playing, but even he was unable to escape the thrill of the game.