First Light, page 35
“Lord Erich Nefera, some say that you regularly host dinner parties at your castle in Nefera, is that correct?”
“Yes.”
“And is it true that at many of these dinners you regularly host the southern nobility?”
“Yes, but I also extend the invitations to—”
“A simple ‘yes’ is quite enough, Lord Erich, thank you. Now, at these dinners, several members of your staff have informed us that the southern nobles complain to you about the king’s policies as it relates to taxes and diplomatic relations with the…Volari.”
Erich sighed. “Yes.”
“I see. So, you have done nothing to stop these complaints. You let these slanderous statements not only occur, but you condone them.”
“No.”
“No? Then how is it that we have stacks of reports and copies of these invites to your ‘dinners’ dating back nearly a decade? Are you saying you do not host these parties?”
“No.”
“So again, you do hold these parties, just as you admitted previously?”
“…yes.”
“Very good, Lord Nefera. Please do try to be consistent with your answers. To do otherwise questions whatever integrity of yours remains,” Henner hissed. The nobles around the room erupted into hateful cries before being settled by Henner’s outstretched hands. “Then one might say you instigate treason by providing a stage for which these disrespectful and treasonous words to be shared amongst the nobility? We have it on good understanding that whispers of secession and independence are often shared at your dinner table.”
“That is taken out of cont—”
“Erich, yes or no,” Leonidas commanded. His sudden intervention in the trial ushered in a series of excited whispers and sneers among the nobles.
“Yes.”
My guilt is decided. Everyone here knows this trial is flimsy. Better arguments are found in the mouth of a child caught sneaking food from the larder. There is no proof. I am simply to die. They will share my charges, but not the ‘evidence’. But I knew this.
“Did you disinherit your bastard son and hide away your four legitimate heirs to protect your family name from your no doubt lost cause of a civil war?” Henner asked with a smirk.
“No!”
“Oh, but we have here a letter on your stationary announcing your disinheritance of your bastard Tayven. And we also have many accounts of your four heirs being escorted into Fort Black. Might I remind you, Lord Nefera, to tell the truth when answering the court’s questions.”
The knight acting as the guard keeping Erich in place kicked the back of his leg, dropping him to his knees before he struggled to stand back up. Laughter escaped the lips of several of the nobles, once again creating a loud echo from the high ceilings.
The trial continued on in this fashion for several hours as Henner continued to twist what was occurring to suit his own needs. Instead of acknowledging that Erich was simply trying to offer a place to have their concerns heard, it was instead framed as him trying to take the position the king held. When Erich provided a platform with which to speak, he was “fanning the flames of rebellion” instead of simply listening to people’s grievances.
Everything that Erich did to prevent war was instead considered incitement. Nothing he said or did would have changed their minds. All the others wanted was to have the same rights, protections, and trade agreements as the northern territories. They only wanted to be equal and to do so without being shackled to the church as repayment for their “kind offers” made in the past.
“Any final comments to add to the record?” the weasel-faced attendant asked. Henner had returned to his original position near the king, having said his piece.
“I put forward that should the court find me guilty, that I alone take the blame for my actions,” Erich said, glaring at the king. Leonidas sighed. Not in resignation, but in relief.
“I, King Leonidas Faradin, hereby proclaim that Lord Erich Nefera is declared guilty of the charges levied against him. He is to be sentenced to death for crimes against the Faradin Kingdom. His sons and family are stripped of nobility with no path to reclamation. Those who attended these ‘dinners’ are considered victims, swayed by the honeyed words of a rebel, and shall be granted the chance to repent without consequence. Let all in the kingdom know: Erich Nefera’s guilt lies with him and dies with him.”
The king waved his hand, and the knights escorted Erich out of the room. He thought they would have turned towards the dungeons. Before they could approach the doors it, they instead made another turn and headed outside where a large crowd waited.
The light of the day momentarily blinded Erich, blocking his ability to see how many people were present. From the sheer volume of the boos and cries for blood, he imagined it was quite a lot. After adjusting to the daylight, he saw a large wooden stage with a man wearing a black mask and holding a large axe. Erich had known this was what awaited him, but he had hoped they would have waited a few days at least.
It seems that the decision to kill me was made the moment they penned the letter requesting my presence. And here I thought they would imprison and torture me first.
People continued to yell and throw things at Erich as he was guided up the stairs to the headsman’s block. The only dignity he had left was remaining in his formal garb; the proud emblem of his house still plastered on the cloak hanging from his shoulders. The knight kicked the back of his knee once more, forcing Erich to reflexively fall. He was guided downward by the shoulders, toward the groove where his head and neck were to rest. The stone was cold despite sitting in the sun, and it was stained with streaks of crimson and black. Remnants of those who had faced the axe in the past.
Stay safe, my sons. I love you. Erich prayed. An image of Tayven passed through his mind, Keep him safe, Dethras, you old bastard.
Erich Nefera felt a strange pinching sensation, but it vanished as quickly as it had appeared. The world seemed to spin momentarily as the crowd in front of him was replaced with birds flying above. The last thing Erich saw of this world was his own body being kicked aside.
Darkness overwhelmed his vision while his ears filled with the sound of a woman humming a beautiful tune alongside the rhythmic thrum of a washing board. A calm voice called out to him, “Hello again, Erich. Don’t worry, she’s waiting for you.”
Kyndra
Agroup of ten people stood together in a small room with a single woman sitting at the end. She casually flicked, throwing knives at a wooden target across from where she rested. Each one silently impacted the target, although it should have echoed throughout the stone chamber.
“Well, then… you four are Erich’s brats, huh?” the woman said sternly. “Don’t look like much. But I owe the dumbass a favor, so welcome to Fort Black. The most dangerous place on the continent.”
The four young men looked at each other nervously. All of them were rather well-built, having been raised to be knights from a young age. Each was an Enhancer as well, so they could amplify their impressive strength significantly. Yet the fear in their eyes told her they could scarcely imagine a world in which they could defeat her.
“Well? Any complaints?” Kyndra demanded.
All four men gulped and shook their heads no before the eldest spoke up. “Lady Kyndra vas Mithra, thank you for your hospitality, but I don’t understand why we are here.”
“Ah…wait a minute…Myrvin, right? The eldest?” Kyndra asked and waited for him to answer. After he nodded his head, she continued, “Your father asked me to watch you four. And good thing too, ‘cause I just received a letter. He’s dead. At that pig-faced Henner’s command, too. Well, I imagine the words came from that piss-ant this country calls a king, but we all know who was really behind it.”
“What! You lie, you witch!” the youngest of the four yelled. His name was Jarrod, and he was rather devout, so his opinion of the Volari was not very high. The poisonous words of the church had taken root within his immature heart.
“Careful, boy. I warned your father that you will be tasked with jobs here at the fort. Best keep your mouth shut before I send you on supply runs to our caches in the forest.”
Jarrod paled and shut up rather quickly. The reason Fort Black was considered so dangerous was that its inhabitants regularly thinned the monster population in the Forest of Ruin beyond it. The weakest monster in the forest was B-Rank, but most were A-Rank. It was also quite common to come across multiple S-Rank beasts throughout the year. Death was all that awaited the young men if they left the fort’s walls.
“The king sent a letter announcing Erich’s ‘betrayal’ of the kingdom, preparing to incite civil war…blah, blah, blah, random bullshit,” Kyndra droned. “To make a long and sad story short, your dad is dead and the kingdom is attempting to use him as a reason for the southern nobles to bow down by charging him with inciting nobles in rebellion. A show of force to indicate the kingdom’s strength in the hopes the disgruntled southerners can throw the blame on a corpse and will back off out of fear. A simple plan, to be sure, but effective.”
The four brothers were silent. When the woman explained the details of Erich’s death, they understood the politics behind it. Myrvin asked if they could be excused to process the information. Kyndra easily dismissed them and had the room cleared.
Once the door shut completely, she threw one final knife at the target. Her eyes flashed the moment it struck. Unlike her previous throws, this time, the knife made a sound much louder than possible. The vibrations from it shattered the target to pieces, and the knives stuck in it clattered to the ground.
“If it wouldn’t put Erich’s bastard or my sister in danger, I’d just forget to stop a couple S-Class beasts from entering the kingdom…” She groaned aloud. “Suppose I shouldn’t leave the fort for a while.”
Kyndra remembered the discussion she had privately had with Erich after Vincent left. She had met back up with her friend before leaving town and he took that time to warn her about this outcome. He also warned her that the southerners would back off should he be executed, but only for a time.
They would gather their strength during the momentary peace his death bought them and instead of rallying behind Erich, they would change their focus to Lord Dethras Jelmoore who had strong ties to the Volari queen. Eric predicted that the civil war would not be for independence but instead, a war of secession, with the southerners putting their strength behind Queen Halthra and defecting from the Faradin Kingdom to become vassals of Volar.
Dethras, being without an heir presents a problem. If he kicks it…it won’t stop a rebellion, but it may hold one off for a few more decades.
Lestreus
The fourteenth prince of Faradin, Lestreus Faradin, sat in the personal office of the head priest of Jelmoore’s Crucidian Church. During break periods, the prince would pray in the large church in the city’s central district. It was here he also wrote and received letters from Archpriest Henner.
Originally, Lestreus could not fathom why it was so important for him to leave the Knight Academy and transfer to a commoner school. However, with time, the prince had realized Henner appreciated the boy’s faith and efforts towards education. The archpriest put a lot of effort into providing for his needs in Jelmoore and even sent the prince extra funding and research materials. The library of the Vanguard was expansive, but it lacked the important holy texts Lestreus had been studying since he was a boy. Lord Henner had also fanned the boy’s hidden desires for power.
After seeing the raw power that the Reaver possessed, Lestreus desired strength for himself. He knew such power would never be his because of his miniscule talent for Aura manipulation, but if he became king, then what would an individual—even one like that—matter against an army?
The most recent letters had asked for a bunch of information about that Reaver, which I happily provided. Now Lord Henner wishes me to ally myself with him. It will be difficult since he is friends with Lord Nefera’s bastard, but I will do what I must. Having such a powerful tool supporting the church will be extremely helpful, he thought, while sipping a cup of tea.
The man in the gray robes had visited him earlier that day and asked the same question he did every week. This week, though, he had had an answer. Seeing the true power of an individual and being supported by Lord Henner, who praised the boy’s intellect, he knew he needed to take power. The change he wished to see was to cast aside the fading neutrality his predecessors had kept over the last dozen generations.
Leonidas partnered with the church out of necessity and only on the surface. Truly, the cowardly man had no intention of making any moves on his own. He would simply let the church act as it wished. Not Lestreus. No, the Crucidian Church—Henner—offered a gift, and he would finally seize it. He wasn’t his father. Lestreus would finally crush the followers of the Path of Volar and make its blind followers see the truth of the gods.
No more would they worship false gods such as Fate and Death. No, he would show them all the true gods. They would know the comforting embrace of the Goddess of Reincarnation. They would embrace the future and betterment of all of man, as the Goddess of Innovation desired. With the God of Honor’s strength and the will of the God of Change, Lestreus would carve this very truth into the souls of the non-believers.
Soon, Lestreus thought to himself, in just a year’s time, two at most, the non-believers will be brought to face the truth, or die upon the blades of my kingdom. I will bring the south to heel, place loyal vassals over its lands, and make Volar mine. All of Vendreya will be under my supreme rule.
Dethras
Dethras Jelmoore slammed his massive hand down onto his desk, leaving behind a spiderweb of cracks in the wood. Attendants and guards alike recoiled from a combination of surprise and fear. The lord did not notice this reaction for he was too focused on the series of letters that had just reached him. He had spent a few days hunting in the woods outside his city to relieve the stress of reading the missive that Erich Nefera had sent the nobles about his youngest son.
“That foolish, brainless, muscle-headed, good-for-nothing, waste of good air!” Dethras shouted. He did not notice the glances his employees gave each other when he used the word muscle-headed to describe someone other than himself. “Erich, you absolute buffoon. Why would you willingly enter that den of vipers? You should have ignored the king’s summon…”
“My lord,” the steward stated calmly. He was the lone individual in the room, unaffected by his master’s tantrums. “Lord Nefera could not simply ignore a direct request by King Faradin. It would have been tantamount to declaring he is preparing for civil war.”
“Bah!” Dethras spat. “Fat lotta good that did him. Idiot practically shouted he was prepared for war and death the moment he disinherited the only son he couldn’t hide away in Fort Black. And now he’s dead. Should have taken my suggestion and shirked Faradin’s rule a decade ago.”
“My lord, that is treason. Statements like that are what led to Lord Nefera losing his head. They may take yours next.”
“Let them try.” Dethras’ steely gaze was accented by an odd pressure that quickly faded.
Dethras threw down the letters in his hand that detailed the execution of Lord Erich Nefera on the grounds of sowing discontent amongst the common people and inciting rebellion among the nobility against the crown. The elderly noble had seen this song and dance many times in his life, but it was the first time it had happened to such a high-ranking noble, let alone one of his friends. He knew that King Leonidas did not have the spine to plan this alone, which meant someone else was pulling the strings.
His first thoughts immediately went to the pudgy priest, Henner. His people had been causing problems in the southern cities for years, and Jelmoore even longer than that. Since Jelmoore was the only city in which the island kingdom of Volar would allow ships back and forth from the Faradin Kingdom, Crucidian missionaries did everything they could to gain access to the island. Lord Jelmoore was good friends with the previous Volari king, so he had spent his entire political career trying to act as a barricade.
Erich was a good friend of Dethras’ daughter, Vincent, and the Vanguard Commander, Kyndra. When he had taken power over his family’s city, he moved that barrier north, which angered the devout northerners. It seemed they had had enough of being blockaded.
“Get a letter to Erich’s boy, Tayven. Send a copy of the missive to the academy, Hilden and Locke. We will catch him somewhere. He deserves to know what happened to his father, and I would prefer it to come from me rather than rumor. Also, let him know I want him to meet me when he returns to the city.”
The steward nodded. “You do not wish to write the missive yourself, sir?”
Dethras grunted. “No. I need to go hunting again…Erich… foolish boy.”
Chapter Thirty-Four
Rune
First Light collected the signature for completion from the mine foreman after they helped him inspect the shafts. Once they ensured the job was complete, he happily signed off on their quest papers. Exchanging several greetings before leaving, the foreman quickly ran to town to tell the workers that they would start cleanup and resume work within the next few days. Cleanup was not part of their quest duties, so that would be left to the miners. Besides, the extra coin from processing the corpses would give the workers extra incentive to hurry back to work.
The fight was exhausting and the Drain ability had taken a lot out of Rune. His head pounded, but since he had purged a large amount of the siphoned Aura, it was only a mild headache. The mark was still present on his neck and he panicked at the thought of explaining it to his mother. His nerves were also on edge because he needed to have a proper discussion with Ven before they left town.
Soon, the group made it to Rune’s childhood home. Outside, his sister and father were working the forge together, something that Rune had never expected from his sister, who had never had an interest in something so tiring and sweat-inducing. It almost felt like she had been blessed by the Goddess of Innovation herself, if the letters his father sent him were to be believed. Rune had a lump in his throat as his mother was outside hanging laundry up on a clothesline. A scene flashed in his mind of a woman next to a black body of water constantly pulling laundry from a never-ending basket.He shook his head clear of the image after he heard a faint giggle from the woman.
