This was the day I met him. The object of my torment. The man I swore to kill with my own hands.
King Fiske did this to me. He turned me into… this.
I must have my revenge. No matter what it takes.
-
“Yes, Arwen?” King Blayney looked down upon his daughter with mild irritation, slightly peeved at having to clear the room upon her request. “I have noticed you trying to contact me for the past hour… don’t you have lessons you should be preparing for?”
“Father…” Arwen quickly begun to fidget, finding it hard to meet his eyes. “I- I wanted to talk to you about… about the attack.”
King Blayney’s face immediately softened. He looked around the large and ornate room she had found him in, his gaze lingering on the closed entrance before settling back onto his daughter. “What is it?”
Arwen took a deep breath, in… and then out. She held her father’s gaze. “I’ve been thinking… and I have reason to suspect Eryk was… behind it.”
“Eryk?” King Blayney was aghast. “Please explain your reasoning.”
Arwen turned and leaned against the large glass table that served as the centrepiece to the orange-lit room, her hands leaving a blurred mark on the glass as she clenched her fists. She explained everything to her father, about his Helvetian origins, his reasoning for betraying the opposing country, everything. “I think he’s ran away,” she finished, and looked up at her father. “Who was he?”
“Arwen,” King Blayney gently pried his daughter from the table and wrapped her in a warm embrace. “Your logic makes a lot of sense- it does, but I can assure you Eryk was not behind the attack. As to who it truly was, I am currently trying to figure out.”
“H-how can you be so sure?”
King Blayney sighed, a man under the weight of many pressures. “When Eryk first arrived in Cyfoeth, he impressed upon the guards a tale so absurd that they called in their superiors, who then called their superiors, and eventually got him to an audience with me. I had your Light Gem with me at the time, and so I used it on him to ascertain his honesty… but what it showed me was something I did not expect. And something I cannot repeat. But even when speaking to me, he was fully transparent and told me everything except of his secret… which I saw displayed in his memories and was what I presume saved you from that attack. It was that terrifying display of strength that convinced me, when he requested to join the military six months later, to assign him to protect you.”
Arwen shifted herself to look up at him. “You are utterly sure it isn’t Eryk…?”
“It is possible,” her father conceded. “Though, very highly unlikely. If you are searching for him, you’ll have no luck here. Eryk has already left with his girlfriend, Rhiannon. He met with me personally to inform me of his decision, and claimed he was done with the bloodshed- that he couldn’t bear to look at your expressions anymore after he had revealed his strength. He’s left the Kingdom and has gone to live elsewhere in Cyfoeth. If he truly was your spy, then the problem has solved itself.”
A surge of anger flashed though Arwen’s body. “How could you be so callous saying that!” she protested, her hands gesticulating wildly to emphasise her hurt. “You almost lost me! I almost died! Do you even care about that?! About me?!”
King Blayney’s eyes turned hard. “Don’t you dare ever accuse me of that, Arwen!” he jabbed his thumb into his own chest. “You have little idea as to how much thought I’ve put into you! Into your safety and into what was best for you, even when I had a war to manage! I don’t care if you fail to see how what I ask of you is what’s best for your success as Cyfoeth’s heir, but I don’t ever want to hear you say that I don’t care for you!”
“Then why send me out in the first place?!” Arwen’s voice grew shrill. “Don’t you see how unhappy I am?!”
“It’s because it made you unhappy that I sent you!” her father threw his hands up into the air. “Don’t you see?! You need to face the outside in order to mature! You, in my castle, leading such an arrogant and shallow life that you sometimes upset the maids so much that they came to their superiors crying! You need to learn to grow up! You were a spoiled, immature little girl! How could you be expected to lead a country when you couldn’t even make any damned friends in school?! Why do you think Cai gave you such a hard time when you first met him! It’s because you needed to learn that not everything… is about you!”
For a moment, Arwen simply stared. She couldn’t believe the words that had just come out of her father’s mouth. He had never, ever spoken to her like that in his life. But while a small part of her screamed that it was the stress of the Helvetian King’s assassination that was on his mind, the larger, more powerful part won over. “I should’ve died to those Helvetians…”
King Blayney froze. “What did you say?”
“I said I should have died!” Arwen screamed at the top of her lungs. All her negativity poured out into that sole admission, powering it with such a force that it seemed to hit her father like a battering ram. “Then you could’ve just had another child and to hell with me! It’s not like I’m good at anything, anyways! I’m useless!”
“Arwen…” her father seemed stunned. “What in the Gods’ names happened to ever make you think like that?”
“Your little ploy to teach me about the horrors of the world,” Arwen’s voice went quiet. Her clenched fists trembled by her sides. “Well, it worked… well done, father. I know now I’m a good for nothing. I can’t ever be as useful as you, or Mum, or my retainers. The only reason I’m even alive right now is because of a vampire and my Light Gem. If I were out there alone, I’d already be gone. I realise that now. Are you happy?”
King Blayney took a moment to let her words sink in, watching his daughter with a slightly frightened expression. He took a step closer and hesitated, but then fully committed to embracing Arwen in a tight hug. “I had no idea you felt this way, dear…”
“Didn’t Mum tell you?” Arwen mumbled into his shoulder. She made no move to reciprocate the embrace, instead simply standing there with her father’s arms around her.
“I have been too busy,” King Blayney’s voice was so much softer, now. It was calming, almost morose. “I have had so much on my mind with Helvetia lately, and I… I’m sorry I haven’t paid more attention to you.”
Arwen’s face scrunched as she fought off tears. She would not cry again. She would not. “Dad… I think I don’t want to do this anymore. I think I’m not good enough for it. I’m too weak.”
“Arwen,” her father pulled away to search her eyes. “Like it or not, your words are wrong. You are good enough. You are strong, and dependable. Perhaps you think of me too highly, but I had not once gotten into a life-threatening situation at your age, yet here you are after surviving two. You had even bargained for Rhiannon’s life in Coed’s… Eryk had told me, and he wanted me to thank you for that. I can’t see how you’d interpret that as anything other than a selfless act of sheer bravery that would put me to shame when I was sixteen myself.”
Her father’s words sparked a small hope, but it was only a glimmer among a dark sea. “But Eryk was the one who saved us all- not me…”
“When I ordered those men to their deaths during the war, to defend Alaru,” King Blayney’s gaze never wavered as he referred to the memory of his Arwen had seen through the Light Gem, “was I the one to delay the Helvetians and thereby saving the town? Or was it those men?”
Arwen’s gaze wandered while she briefly considered the answer. “… it was the men.”
“Exactly. Part of what I was hoping to teach you was that you can depend on others, as I do myself. You’re not expected to do everything,” her father grasped Arwen’s shoulder with his hand. “But you work as a team, and you’ll soon learn that your retainers depended on you as much as you do them. Why do you think they were asking for your help in Alaru? Because you were the only one who could use the Light Gem. They needed your help.”
There were flaws in King Blayney’s logic that Arwen couldn’t help but find, but his words nevertheless helped her a great deal. “Thank you, father.”
“You have already thanked me a thousand times in the deeds you have done during service,” her father smiled at her. “The truth is… I need you, Arwen. You and your retainers have never failed me, and I truly believe you have already gone above and beyond. George has been telling me your lightning magic has been progressing remarkably, and your riding instructor has mentioned to me several times that you have a sharp mind and a good approach to your lessons.”
Arwen wanted to argue with that. She felt like they would say anything to her father to appease him… but was she doing herself a disservice? Maybe she was being too hard on herself… and even if her thoughts were indeed the case, Arwen felt she needed a white lie to cling onto right now. “That… is really flattering to hear.”
“Good,” King Blayney nodded. “Now, are you still considering quitting your military service to me?”
It took her a second to answer, but she finally shook her head. “No.”
“The ability to push through your own doubts and continue on forward marks the path of a great leader,” King Blayney approved. “I am proud, truly. You haven’t seen just how much you’ve grown since your first mission.”
“So… what now?” Arwen asked after a brief moment of silence.
The tale has been stolen; if detected on Amazon, report the violation.
King Blayney sighed. “Now… I need you to prepare to meet the new Helvetian King with me. After that, we’ll take things from there. I may have a new mission for you, but it depends on how we progress with Helvetia.”
-cut-
Six days came and went in a blur, and Arwen still yet could not get her lightning magic to work at any sort of range! It frustrated her to no end, and she found that the little blanket of warmth her father had lain over her to protect her mind from her own dark thoughts thinned with each failure. She had informed her retainers of Eryk’s ‘retirement’ from the military, and they had understandably reacted with outrage. “So, that’s it, then?” Cai had asked. “We don’t get to even speak to him.”
“Or know where he ran off to,” Owen sighed.
“My father was steadfast it wasn’t him…” Arwen shrugged. She couldn’t even muster up any emotion on the vampire anymore. “He says he’s very confident.”
Gwyn made a tsk noise. “I guess we’ll move on, then.”
Cai concurred, but then turned his attention to Arwen. “Are you okay? You seem… down, lately.”
“Just frustrated with my magic is all,” the Princess flashed a fake smile. “No need to worry.”
None of her retainers seemed to buy it, but they had given her the decency of letting it slide.
Arwen had also learnt from her mother about a pretty serious argument her and King Blayney had the next evening after Arwen had sobbed herself to sleep in Amelia’s arms. Her mother had staunchly advocated that Arwen be spared having to meet with Victor Fiske, but her father was apparently adamant. “He’s been very stressed lately,” her mother had told Arwen with a gentle smile. Amelia and Sion Blayney always came to blows at times, but no matter what, they still loved and supported each other. “Your father has come to depend on you far more than you may think, dear.”
It was in the late afternoon on the sixth day when the new Helvetian King had arrived in Cyfoeth, the Princess found herself wrenched from her magic lesson and rushed into a set of regal clothes, her hair styled by bustling servants, before being thrusted into the audience chamber with her father. “He’ll be here any minute now,” King Blayney greeted, nodding in approval at her appearance. “This could get ugly.”
Arwen took her father’s side with a nod. Like the last visit from Helvetian royalty, the Cyfoethian guards lined the outskirts of the audience chamber, waiting in grim silence along with their King and Princess. Arwen’s mother, as was typical of her, opted not to partake in the meeting, and father did not want too many royals staring down a singular King lest the atmosphere feel oppressive for the newly crowned Helvetian.
Arwen had no idea what to expect. Victor had gained a reputation among the whispered hushes of the spies, feeding information directly into her father’s ears. He had just turned sixteen years old, literally Arwen’s age, and was reportedly a prodigy of combat and swordplay. Many informants were convinced he was unbeatable in a fight, and seemed terrified of him. Arwen normally would have grown envious of his talents compared to the lack of hers, but she then also overheard that he was prone to fits of rage and violence, was sullen, unhappy, and filled with a hatred that had no outlet. It seemed Helvetia had been almost expecting Victor to murder his adoptive father before it had actually happened.
Curiously, the boy was always described wearing some sort of mask that covered his eyes, with only small horizontal slits to see through, and wrapping around his head. No one knew why the new King hid his facial features, nor did anyone know what he truly looked like. Intimidation, some sort of mutation, extreme ugliness, social anxiety. All were wild theories surrounding the King’s choice of face wear.
Lost in her thoughts, Arwen nearly jumped when the doors swung open and the same deep voice as last time yelled into the chamber. “Stand by for King Fiske of Helvetia!”
Arwen took a deep breath, and waited for the stream of Helvetian soldiers to flow in. She hoped the sight of their uniforms and their pale skin wouldn’t spark any unpleasant memories. The Helvetians that had attacked her were haunting her dreams with a fervour that must have been sparked by the horrific nature of their deaths. Their headless corpses taunted Arwen, torturing her until she awoke in a sea of her own sweat.
A few agonising seconds passed. Arwen fidgeted with her clasped hands. Her father besides her lightly cleared his throat. Both were confused by the lack of activity, but neither spoke.
Until a lone figure strode into the room.
Arwen’s eyes fell upon Victor Fiske, the new King of Helvetia. He had short black hair and a lean physique, complemented by his form-fitting black and silver shirt and brown trousers. On his hip, he carried the scabbard of some sort of custom-made sword, if its intricately designed handle was anything to go off of. The scabbard itself was a gleaming white mixed with interconnected constellations of golden trimmings, matching the colours of his white mask which covered his eyes and ears as it wrapped around his head, completely obscuring the top half of his face while his bottom half below the ridge of his nose was completely exposed, revealing the pale skin typical of Helvetians. He walked confidently, almost arrogantly, his thin mouth pressed in a grim line as if about to confront a horrible truth. He looked fierce, Arwen thought, despite his youth.
“Cyfoeth welcomes the new King of Helvetia,” King Blayney began once the new King had stopped walking. Victor Fiske stared silently at Arwen’s father as he spoke. The lack of feedback from his eyes, blocked as they were by his mask, made him look imposing- threatening to her. “I understand you have just arrived within Cyfoeth, King Fiske. Please take the time to rest if you need, we can reconvene another time.”
King Fiske said nothing.
“Alright, then,” King Blayney said after an awkward pause. “We shall begin. Before anything is exchanged, I must bring up the brutal attack on my daughter, Princess Arwen Blayney, by a band of soldiers from your army. You are aware of this happening?”
A brief pause.
“It wasn’t my idea to resort to that,” King Fiske finally turned his attention onto Arwen, the dark slits in his mask pulling at her soul. “I would’ve personally killed you myself, but my advisors felt it unnecessary when a simple task force could’ve done it.”
It took all of her willpower not to take a step back, nor gasp in any way. The way King Fiske spoke was… unnerving. His voice was deep, almost throaty, the type that you could listen to all day. He had a calm and put-together way of speaking, but it was his complete lack of uncertainty that rattled the Princess. He spoke as if his killing her would’ve been fact.
While Arwen was trying not to reel, her father exploded. “You admit to attempting assassination of my daughter?!”
Arwen was relieved when Victor Fiske turned his mask onto her father. “I do.”
When King Blayney spoke next, it was in a dangerous tone. “You walk in with no guards, all by yourself, and admit to attempting to kill my daughter- surrounded by soldiers as you are. I would show a little more fear among that expressionless mien, boy. I could have you killed in a moment.”
King Fiske’s face did not change, and Arwen thought then that something was wrong. Victor Fiske had been described as violent and full of rage, yet while the boy before her was undeniably him, he was far too composed. Too calm. “Try me,” his masked stare did not falter, nor did his voice, “and see what happens. The only thing I have to fear is slipping on the blood of your fallen soldiers after I slaughter them all.”
There was that factual way of speaking. The complete confidence that if Victor Fiske said it, then it would be so. King Blayney had grown completely red with barely contained rage, but his next words were chosen with great care. “You do know this is an act of war?”
“I have come to declare war with Cyfoeth, so I do not care,” was the undaunted reply.
“You have what?!” King Blayney spluttered.
“My father may have been sympathetic to your country, but I am not,” King Fiske swapped his gaze between the Cyfoethian King and his daughter, as if daring any of them to attack. “I have one goal in mind, one goal that I care about. And that is all I want.”
Arwen’s father practically gnashed his teeth together when he grinded out his next words. “What goal?”
“My desire is to rid Loel of all vampires,” King Fiske declared. “Therefore, my demand is that you surrender all of Cyfoeth’s known vampires for execution by Helvetian decree.”
“You cannot be serious?” Arwen had never seen her father so flustered. “Of course we will not do that!”
King Fiske inclined his head. “That is why I have come to declare war, you see.”
He turned his attention to Arwen once more. “Apologies if my attempt on your life caused you any lasting trauma,” it was hard to tell, but he almost sounded like he cared. “I ordered my man to be as fast as possible in order to spare you pain. Though it failed is a nuisance, Princess, but it matters not to me that you are alive. Helvetia will invade, and we will win, no matter how powerful a lightning mage family can be,” and with that, Victor Fiske turned and faced the exit. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I have matters with the Keep’s annihilation to attend to.”
No one spoke as they watched the retreating form of the new King, walking confidently as if he was invincible. As soon as the doors to the audience chamber shut behind him, King Blayney yelled at a nearby guard. “Get my advisors here, now!”
As the guard ran off, Arwen appealed to her father. “What are you doing?”
“I’m going to try and assassinate King Fiske before he leaves Cyfoeth,” King Blayney shocked his daughter with such a hard-line reaction. “It will ruin our relationship with Helvetia, but with that madman in power, it’s already in tatters as is.”
Arwen’s lips trembled. “We’re at war again.”
Peace hadn’t even lasted two months. Arwen felt the sudden urge to cry. When would all the fighting truly end? Was she not allowed even the slightest happiness that came with peace?! “Oh, Arwen,” King Blayney immediately soothed his daughter upon sighting her expression. “It will be fine. Once that boy is dead, Helvetia will have to find itself a new King, one that may be more in-line with Brandt Fiske’s way of thinking.”
Or another crazy man could win out and ascend the throne. Such was the way of Helvetia.
“Doesn’t this seem to be an extreme?” Arwen argued. “To kill him?!”
“He tried to kill you, daughter,” King Blayney appeared puzzled by her hesitation to stand by the assassination order. “He deserves it just for that, not to mention his plan of genocide!”
Arwen wanted to argue further. The idea of murdering the new King was a ghastly one for her, but she did agree that Victor was better off dead. Wouldn’t assassinating the Helvetian make her father no different than him, though? Was Arwen entirely blameless for allowing this?
What was she thinking? She shook her head. Of course, King Fiske deserved to die, he tried to kill her! He even went so far as to admit it directly to her face. He was the source of all of her misery of late. Without him, she could be happy.
Arwen’s broiling emotions prevented her from speaking up before a swarm of men dressed in navy blue uniforms grabbed at her father’s attention, who left her with a distracted goodbye to walk among them, the men swaddling around King Blayney like bees to a hive.
When the doors slammed in the audience chamber, an incredibly tense silence indeed befell upon the Princess. The soldiers lined up by the walls exchanged awkward glances, but Arwen did not seem to care.
King Victor Fiske. The new King of Helvetia. The man who ordered her death and desires war with Cyfoeth. The man who wants to kill all vampires in Loel. Arwen’s thoughts swirled inside her head before a terrible realisation came to her.
She wanted him dead.
She knew in her heart that if her father failed to assassinate the young King, she would be disappointed in that outcome. It was a scary path of thought to take, Arwen mused, to desire the death of another human being. She wondered if such thoughts could permanently change a woman. An image of Elain flashed into her mind.
Alone in the audience chamber, Arwen sighed. She needed to find her retainers and see what they had to say about all of this.
“He’s crazy,” Cai gave his prognosis immediately after Arwen finished relaying the events of the meeting to her retainers. “A Masked King? Ha. More like a Mad King.”
“He directly told you he gave the order for your death?” Owen looked pale.
Arwen nodded. “He stared straight into my eyes and said it as if it were of little consequence to him.”
“Creepy…” Cai mumbled.
“Nothing on who our spy was, then?” Gwyn asked.
This time, Arwen shook her head. “No…”
“Well,” Cai let loose a puff of air from his nose. “Let’s hope your father can arrange his assassination, then.”
War with Helvetia, Arwen thought. Again. But this time, there seemed to be no way out with the new King Fiske. No peace treaty will come to save them, and now Cyfoeth faced subjugation by a force far larger and more powerful than it. Arwen Blayney had the sinking feeling, deep within her gut, that her future could only go one way…
Poorly.