Tale of Four

Staring up, Elias looked up at Starlight Fort, flying the Cosmaton banner and ground his teeth in hate. ”Did we get him?” Elias asked the blond-haired man next to him. Lord Brightstar pulled his helmet off and dusted it down, without much care for who he stood next to, revealing his bright blue eyes that rivalled sapphires.

”Cleeve Cosmaton escaped a week ago, with the bulk of the Starlight forces. Alongside him, Lord Starlight and Lady Starlight have vanished, only his steward left behind to care for the fort.” Blowing the final stain of dirt off his helmet, Lord Brightstar placed it underneath his arm before picking at his teeth with his nail. ”We interrogated the steward, but it seems both Lord Starlight and Cleeve knew that the fort was indefensible. However,” Lord Brightstar reached under his chestplate, pulling a small note. ”Message from Lord Walden. Cleeve crossed the Waterway with the bulk of his forces. Lord Walden parleyed with him. He allowed the crossing in exchange for a temporary truce until they crossed.”

Lord Brightstar leaned back and watched Elias’ helmet zip past, rolling across the dirt. Turning his head, he covered his mouth to suppress his laugh at Elias’s outburst. Elias stared daggers at him, and from behind his back, a pair of fiery wings emerged, drying the air, making it hard to breathe. ”Is my rage funny, Lord Brightstar?” Elias asked, with a cold, arrogant tone, his eyes filled with disgust for the man before him. ”That old coward chose peace during a time of war and has allowed our enemy to escape. And you laugh at me.”

”Forgive me.” Lord Brightstar fell to his knee and deeply lowered his head. ”I did not laugh at you, I sim...”

”Enough.” Elias cut him off before the excuses could start. ”Take command of the defence from the Waterway; Lord Walden has failed. The King has summoned me to return.” The fiery wings receded into his back. ”And make sure such cowardice is not repeated under your command, my lord. Even if distant, your family is my blood. Live up to your name, and don’t cower in the darkness.” Turning around, Elias clicked his tongue again, picking his helmet off the floor.

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Finishing his recounting of events that had transpired, Anton gave a single nod and stood up from the ivory throne. He was dressed in dark black armour, almost as dark as midnight itself. On the breastplate, in the centre, a star, similar but different to the Cosmaton’s own, was inscribed, coated in gold, with a red spider web inside made of rubies as deep as blood. Along the rest of the armour, golden lining ran over the ends of the plated metal. Anyone who saw it could tell it was highly functional armour, made for battle, but also a work of art.

All around courtiers, the council and anyone else relevant within the palace perked up, seeing the king move, dressed ready for battle, the stories they had all heard about coming to life once more. ”As of now.” Looking to the right, his squire, the eldest son of Lord Truman, walked forward, holding a black helmet. Anton slipped it on. It was black, much like his armour, covering his entire face. The sole addition that told you it belonged to the king was the ornament that wrapped around it, a recreation of the thin metal crown he usually wore, held together at the front by a red spider. It invoked dread in anyone who saw it and made some question if they were truly siding with the right person.

Anton spoke again, his voice muffled but equally powerful underneath his helmet, ”Prince Elias carries authority that is only to be challenged by the Chancellor or me. His words and his actions are to be honoured and respected. Any deviation from this command, and you shall be treated as traitors to the realm.” Anton grabbed the sword on his belt, one he had personally forged for himself after the battle of the Silent Hills, using the blades of those who had fought with him and fallen, a weapon that had yet to see war. Tightening his grip on the hilt, he stared deeply into everyone’s eyes, reading and waiting for a flicker of deceit. ”Am I clear?”

The room knelt in agreement. Taking a deep breath, Anton let go of his sword and bid everyone to rise. As they did, a path cleared for him, and alongside him, Ser Titus walked, ready to follow his King into battle. Along the path, Queen Karina stood before him, her eyes sad but understanding and courteous, before lifting a thin red cloth.

Anton stared at the cloth for a second before taking it and bringing it to where his lips would be, tying it around the hilt of his sword afterwards. Carrying on, those who had agreed to follow Anton into battle flooded out alongside him, leaving the throne room a little emptier than before. Tristan frowned, leaning against one of the pillars that created a path to the throne and watched as Elias climbed the steps up to the throne, rubbing the ivory chair with delight before taking his seat atop it. Next, the old Chancellor, lord Deacon, wobbled up the steps, his legs shaking with every step, struggling to move as he did in his younger years, taking his place by Elias’ side.

Shaking his head, he stared at Elias. Before the merging between Elias and his summon was contained to a certain degree, the prince was able to hide his disgust with everyone and everything, only letting it be revealed when exposed to too many things he hated, or when certain people were brought up, but now, Tristan could see it wasn’t even contained anymore, as if he saw most of the courtiers as less the human.

”Annabell.” Whispering so softly no one heard, he rested a hand on the dove’s head and pushed it closer to his ear. ”Elias. How far gone is he?”

”He.” Annabell paused. ”We need to merge for me to see better, but he stinks of fire now. It’s a burning smell, a really strong one.” Tristan nodded, rubbing her soft feathers.

”Annabell,” Tristan said her name again, with slight fear. ”If we keep merging, will we become like that? Would I no longer be who I am, but a mix of me and you? I know there are risks, but will it always happen, even if we trust each other?” Tristan asked and thought of the rest of his family. Anton was much like his spider in terms of coldness. Brandon was always a secretive person, much like Azikial. Then there was Mabel. He didn’t know what she commanded, but Annabell had said she smelt like a wild beast. The way she acted, even if somewhat endearing to him, was still strange for a person who grew up as royalty, even if given permission by her father.

”Likely.” Annabell replied after a moment of silence, ”When we merge, you surrender yourself to me completely, Tristan. Not just your body, but your mind and soul. It is impossible not to leave some impact. But it will be small, almost unnoticeable if we don’t do it much, so don’t worry.” Tristan nodded and took a deep breath. Watching Elias, he saw him get comfy in the throne and watch his courtier slowly leave after they pledged their services to him.