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Printed from https://www.writing.com/main/view_item/item_id/2066167-Chapter-Two---Gone-missing
Rated: 13+ · Fiction · Fantasy · #2066167
The 2 chapter of Wars of Eredhar:The Descendants. The story takes us to Kingdom of Eoland.
Chapter 2


Gone missing



         The dim morning light slowly made its way through the castleâs windows, shining a pale and cold glow over the bitter stones and dusty curtains of the citadel. The crackling of mighty oaks could be heard throughout the castle, as they slowly burned in the many fireplaces that were inside, small or big, all of them providing the required warmth to pass over a winterâs night, with as less discomfort as possible. Winters in Eredhar were quite diverse, but one thing they did have in common, was it could easily be oneâs undoing. Winter affected the continent in different ways, from the sand storms in the land of Tregonya, to the harsh blizzards in the mountains of Eoland.
         The sound of wind could be heard outside the castle, storming the towers relentlessly, while the snow slowly covered the windows, shielding the human eye from the ruthless view of the outside world. It was too early in the morning for anything to be moving inside the castle, though from time to time a strong cough would resonate along the great corridors that lead from the hall to the royal chambers, right behind a big wooden door. It was a true masterpiece, with ornamental mountains carved from a royal white oak. The design was the handiwork of Eolandâs great woodcarver, Devis Hamwork, the son of Velo Hamwork the Third. A manly, low cough, could be heard louder and louder, echoing throughout the place.
         âFor fuck sake, control yourself or youâll wake the whole castle!â a guard yelled at his partner, as he elbowed him in the stomach.
         âCome on, you know I canât! This damn weather, this freaking winter is killing meâ, coughing harder with each word.
         âThen die already, itâs not like someone will miss you and besides that, you need not worry about your wife, I will take good care of herâ, he said laughing, patting him on his back.
         âArenât you hilarious, you damn idiot! I hope the winter will bite your ass, Menas!â, his partner replied still coughing, though a little bit more annoyed than a couple of seconds ago.
         âAlright, alright Tobe, calm down, you can still live, though if you keep this up, the prince will surely have your head on a plate, delivered to your wife!â his friend laughed and patted Gerald on the shoulder, but with a slight concern on his face, as he looked at the wooden door. âSeriously now, do something about it, go to that old lady, over there at that shaggy shop of hers in the market. She surely must have something for you. That old wretch Tena always has something for ⦠well, anythingâ.
         Although the two knuckleheads were making quite a fuss, they werenât the only ones that decided to have an early morning, though in their case their duty decided that for them. Outside the castle, but still inside the courtyard, there was a peculiar building. It didnât have the same fineness as the citadel itself. You see, the castle was made of the finest stones mined from the Belimos Mountains, perfectly carved so they would fit a royal capital. Red Miriliam was not known for its durability, but for its mesmerizing aspect, being considered one of the most valuable stones around the whole land. Belimos Mountains were the only ones in Eredhar from which this stone could be extracted, thus, trying to pass it over the borders of the Kingdom, in a not so honest way, could easily leave you headless, or worse.
         The old architects of Eoland realized that Red Miriliam was not strong enough to withstand a siege, leaving the castle vulnerable. This way, with the guidance of Ibenyth Abigond, their praised Primordial, they used the hardest and thickest stone they could mine out of the mountain. The walls were designed into three layers, the outer layer being made from carefully carved Red and White Miriliam, blending in a graceful and pleasant carving. The middle of the wall was made in such way that it could repel anything that smashed into it. It was raised from a mixture of Black and Gray Galvirian, stones that were known for they impressive durability, but the mixture was something that no one had ever seen. The most astonishing feature of the wall was the inner layer, with a majestic touch of Red and White Miriliam. The stones where carefully shaped, just like a passionate dance between two lovers would be, embedded with beautiful polished gems that gave the halls a soothing gleaming glitter.
         One of the buildings that was inside the royal court looked nothing like the castle, nor the other structures. It lacked the fineness that the others had. As you walked outside the main gates of the castle, you had to take a sharp right and follow a small road, going downwards. After following it a couple hundred yards, there it was; the ugliest building ever built in the great capital of Abigond. It had a bunch of rocks of a darkish gray color at its base. Going up, the walls were made out of cracked stones, which at the top connected with something that wanted to be a sort of roof. It was the kind of roof that, when it rained, it would happily allow the water to find its way inside. The only thing that was in tone with the design of the building was the plate that was hanging above the entrance: The Servantsâ Quarters. There was always a fuss, even before the dawn of day, with people that could be heard bickering around the few rooms that the building had.
         âRubbish, that is all a bunch of rubbish!â
         âNo, no, no! Iâm telling you, there was a flying pig! He saw it, he told me!â
         âOh my god! He was flapping his mouth again, right?!â a man at a young boy, patting him on the head as he winked at another person across the room.
         âOh, the talking, flying pig, thatâs what you saw kid, right?! The one that, once he gets up in the sky also starts dancing?!â a second man smirked as he started to dance on the bed.
         The building had two floors, each floor with two rooms. The stair that connected the two of them was made out of oak wood, but not the healthiest of them all. You could see that it was an old building, for there were a few planks missing or broken from the staircase and the interior walls were deteriorated by time and some things that we shouldnât really be talking about.
         âLeave the poor boy alone!â shouted a woman from the floor above. She was standing at the top of the stairs, with her hands on her hips. She had a large spoon in the left hand, from which soup was dripping on the wooden floor, getting between the little cracks.
         âCome on Mary, we were just pulling his leg. We are friends, arenât we kid?â the first man snorts as he turns around, looking up at her.
         âSure you did! Now, stop that nonsense and get your ass up here. It is break of dawn already and the food for the lords ainât ready yet! You know what happened to the last servants that, well, were late.â
         As soon as he heard her, he hurried up the stairs, at the same time with his friend, who jumped out of bed and rushed after him.
         âOh no, no thank you! I can still hear his screams in my dreams. Poor lad, Jacob was his name, I think, no, I am sure!â
         âLacrist, actually. But hey, you donât even know your masterâs nameâ, Mary said with sarcasm, as she turned around, going inside the kitchen.
         âNonsense, he is the great Baron of Davenvale, Lo⦠La⦠ahm..â
         âLarson, his name is Larson, Johnny.â she shook her head in disapproval.
         As they were slowly, but surely, going upstairs, the little kid sat on the bed, pulling his boots from under it. They were a brownish sort of color, covered in mud and wine stains. He spat in his hand and tried to clean them up, only to make a bigger mess out of it. Sighing, he slid his foot inside of his right boot, curiously looking at the tip of his toe, sticking out through a hole.
         âWell I be damned, this wasnât here yesterdayâ, he said amused, as he wiggled his toe. He held tightly onto the bed side while leaning forward, looking under the bed.
         âHa! So there it is, the rest of my boot!â His head reached the floor and as he looked under the bed, he came across a small but fat rat. âThat is not nice! You donât do such things, get out of here!â he grabbed a candle from the night desk and threw it at the rat, making the little creature run chaotically around the room, trying to find a way out.
         âOh no! Get out of here! No, not there, donât get in that bed!â he started running after the rat, with one bare foot, swinging the left boot in the air, by its laces. He was so close to catching it, but as he leaned forward to hit it with the shoe, his leg got stuck in a crack in the ground, making him lose his balance and fall. As he gracefully reached the end of the fall, he banged his chin onto the wooden floor.
To avoid the wrath of the kid, the rat jumped, aiming to squeeze inside a crack in the wall. As he plunged in the air, a swift throw of a dagger pierced the room, cutting the air in half on its way, striking the animal down. In a blink of an eye, the knife pinned the rodent to the side of one of the beds.
         At the end from which the knife came, there was a tall man. He was in his late thirties, although his looks could have easily deceived someone who wasnât aware as of to whom he was. He had the looks of someone who has been touched by the cruelty and hardships of war. He had a scar on his right cheek, going all the way to his earlobe and he had the beginning of a white beard, emphasizing his rough aspect. Despite his shaggy looks, his garment told another story.
He was dressed in a silver chainmail, with red ornaments along the torso, a red belt holding his sword and with steel boots that covered his feet. The cloak was designed in such way that it also covered his right arm, making it easy to surprise any enemy, with a fast and deadly throw of his dagger.
âWhat the hell is this? Whatâs with all the fuss?!â the man yelled as he walked to the boy, looking down at him.
âWell, it..its, ahm.â he babbled as he turned on his back, looking up at him.
âAhm, mm, hm⦠the last time I checked you werenât the son of the Gravenots. So stop babbling and speak clearly boy!â he leaned on his knee, watching the kid closely.
âThe Gravenots?â one of the men from the kitchen whispered to Mary, as they were peaking down at them from the top of the stairs.
âThe Gravenots, Johnny, are the family that was cursed by the Felonen. Since then, all of their heirs were born with slow brains, not being able to talk properly. And to prevent you from wasting your breath, the Felonen were a cult of dark magic that roamed Eredhar over one hundred years ago.
âI knew that!â Johnny humphed at Marry, although he had no idea as to what she just said.
They kept looking down at them, as the man poked the boy in the forehead. âThat little bastard chewed my boot and he needed to be taught a lesson, Kled!â A Kled was the title assigned to the right hand of the prince, although his real name was Michael Zanos.
âWell, I avenged your manhood, you are a man again! What a reliefâ¦â Michael laughed as he offered his hand, to help the little servant get up. âNow, enough fooling around kid, you have things to do!â.
âI doubt that the prince woke up this early in the morning Kledâ the kid giggled as he grabbed onto Michaelâs hand, pulling himself onto his feet.
âHa, I too doubt that your master woke up. I donât really see Tybious to wake up at this hour, but itâs not him who is asking for you.â
âHa? Then who?â he raised his eyebrow surprised.
âThe king himself kid, so you better get your other boot and hurry up. You wouldnât want to make his majesty wait, Travis.â the Kled picked Travisâ boot, handing it to him, urging the kid to hurry up.
As soon as he put his other boot on, Travis shook the dust off his clothes and with a deep breath, followed Michael out the door. As they walked outside, it slowly started snowing again, thing that was clearly making Zanos antsy.
âI am so sick of this winter. How long has it been, three, four months?!â
âThree months and 19 days actuallyâ smiled Travis as he looked up at Michael, for he was a lot taller than him, but still of an average height.
âYou never cease to amaze me kid, or creep me outâ, Michael shook his head as they walked up the small road to the castle, making their short journey more and more unpleasant due to the falling snow.
âSo, Kled, any idea as to why the king summoned me?â the kid gulped as he looked for any tell on the manâs face.
âTo that, I am afraid I do not hold the answer my young lad. But no matter what it is, it must be important, for I doubt that the king would waste his time with you.â
As they reached the castle, after taking a sharp left, they were greeted by two sentries that were guarding the main gate. The two guardsman squeezed their lances and hit the ground with them, saluting Michael as soon as they saw him. âKled!â
âAt ease men. I hope this morning finds you well.â
âThe morning does, though the winter is a pain in the ass, Sir.â
He smiled and nodded as they opened the gates for him and Travis to pass. As the gates hit the wall, the cold winter wind rushed in, blowing the torches that were sitting on the sides of the great hall. A couple of servants rushed from all around to reignite the fire, casting out the darkness that took over the room in a blink of an eye. From the shadows of a flickering light, a hooded man approached our two characters.
As soon as he made his presence felt, Michael looked at him from the corner of his eye. The man pulled his hood off, revealing a white, blind eye, with a scar going from the edge of the eyebrow to the middle of his nose. He had slick hair, white and greasy, that went down to his shoulders. As he opened his mouth, a vile stench slowly spread around him.
âKled, we need to talk!â
âNot now Melis, the king has summoned meâ
âBut Michael, we reaâ¦â
âI said not now! Whatever it is, it can wait!â, he then fastened the pace to avoid any more unpleasant conversation.
âHe always sent shivers down my spine and not in a good wayâ, said Travis as he looked over his shoulder at Melis.
âIndeed, everything about him is distasteful, but he is the Kingâs Master Spy for a reason and that you should never forget, my young lad.â
As they kept talking and walking along the hall, they reached the Throne Room. The guards opened a huge door made of white oak, inlaid with beautifully carved Red Miriliam and silver shards. As you stepped inside, there was a huge dining table, with chairs on each side, carved out of the strongest oak. Behind it, there was the throne, from which King Morak of the Abigond Dynasty watched over all that moved in the room.
The snow covered windows were emitting a pale light over the people that were around the table. There were Eolandâs generals and Tregonyaâs leaders that were arguing, yelling, over war campaigns that were ongoing in the Desert of Bredan.
âI am telling you, if we are to attack the rebels here, here and down there, we will most certainly give a devastating blow!â
âSince when do the barbarians of Tregonya know anything about military tactics?!â said one of the Eoland generals in mockery.
âHa! Careful there girly, or I might actually go barbarian on you!â
As Michael escorted Travis towards the king, the kid looked curiously at the table and over all the papers that were lying there.
âWhat is going on there?â
âItâs better for you not to know kid, trust me.â
As the two sides started getting louder and louder, slamming their fists on the table, Morak stood up and shouted in anger.
âLeave, now! I want the room only to myself and Kled!â
At the sound of his voice, all the people that were fighting about what should be done, military related, suddenly became breathless and rushed out the doors. At the same time, Travis stopped and turned away.
âNot you Travisâ¦â said Michael.
âSo, you are my sonâs servantâ¦â
âYes, your Majesty!â he said, looking down, bowing in front of his liege, as he gulped.
âThe thing Iâm about to tell you will stay in this room, between me, you and the Kled. My younger son, Glan, was supposed to send a pigeon after his mission in the northern town of Flent. I sent him there to investigate whatever was making the townsfolk disquieted. It has been over three weeks and I still havenât heard from him. I want you to prepare Tybious and everything he needs, to go after his brother. I mustnât tell the importance of discretion in this matter!â
âI will not let you down my lord, I will make sure that all isâ¦â
âStop with the nagging and just go!â shouted the king at him.
Michael grabbed Travis by his arm and rushed him out the door. He could see the pressure that the new task already had on the young boy, as he started mumbling to himself all sort of things.
âRelax, I will be with you all the wayâ¦â smiled Michael as they walked towards the castleâs gates. In the middle of the hall, Melis cut their way, trying to stop them.
âKled, we really need to talk!â
âNot now Melis, I donât have time for such things, I must attend to the kingâs request.â
âBut Michael, it really canât waâ¦â
âFor fuck sake, what part of I canât donât you understand?! Get out of my way, I need to see the prince!â he pushed him to the side, but as he did that, Melis grabbed him by the arm and pulled him, now facing each other.
âYou wonât have any luck with that! He is nowhere to be found, the prince has gone missing!â

© Copyright 2015 eredhar (shelfron at Writing.Com). All rights reserved.
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