The Ring Bearer

Where do I begin to explain the duality of my existence…? Perhaps, with the winter's night of the most vivid of all the previous visions. The night my father, the great king, and master of death was found to be dying. In my dream, all along the muddy and water clogged road, lay the dead, strewn like vermin. I stumbled along, breathing heavily behind a clumsy mask, and held back the lurching sensation within my gut. I could not show weakness as I knew the living still looked to me for some sort of guidance or aid; yet I did not know, myself, why I was there. There were no sideroads or alleys which I could slip into and escape the aftermath of the past few days. There was the wailing of children and the groans of the lost and frightened souls; yet nothing I did, helped to muffle the sounds. I threw my hands to my ears and pressed down hard, yet the aching of the multitudes was still able to penetrate. Eventually, I gave up and simply allowed my mind to merge all the chaos into one ominous droning. Until suddenly there was the jarring and jagged shuddering from a nearby contraption and all the remaining people began to fall. They fell, but not like one tripping or even from the effects of a sleeping spell; no they fell like ribbons torn to pieces and strewn all over the road - chunks of them flew about and the ear-piercing putter from the monster responsible was ever-present and it echoed along the street. At the end of the blood-soaked street, I found my father. He was holding on as best as he could, but it was terribly dark magic that had gripped him and it ran so deep that even his veins appeared to have blackened. I held him in my arms as he tried to utter something unintelligible to me. I drew nearer to him, with my ear right up against his rasping breath and he managed to get out a single word of warning, "Run!" I was suddenly an infant again. This time the wailing was my own. I was swaddled in a blanket and my mother was running from a pursuer. We headed along a cliff's edge with waves crashing below. My mother held me tightly to her breast and did not dare glance back until she made it to her hiding place; a small cave within the side of the mountain. The wind howled around us and she stumbled slightly at the entrance. She righted herself and quickly placed me down and began to utter an incantation, but before she could finish, the person who was chasing us, appeared at the entrance of the cave. They battled for a short time, I recalled my mother standing over her attacker, but when she turned to come back to me, I was no longer there. The chant, instead of simply concealing me, had transported me to another dimension - I was gone forever. A scream of pain and loss permeated the air, but no one was there to hear her. I woke in a cold sweat, the sheets stuck to my body and entangled me in a cacoon. I struggled to get free and threw them, along with the thick covers, to the floor of my chamber. My labored breathing was the only sound I could make out. The castle was as quiet that night as any other. I could not make out any disturbing sounds; the horrendous puttering monster was merely a phantom contrived by my nightmare.  I brushed my short blond hair back and sat up in my four-poster bed. The coldness in the air was a chilling sensation and I shivered slightly. Hesitantly I swung my legs to the side of the bed and my feet found the cold floor. I glanced over at the fireplace where there were only ashes left, and walked to the large windows, at the far side of the room, and glanced out over the moat and the sparse semi-arid plateau that stretched out as far as the eye could see. Looking at the vastness before me, made me suddenly yearn for the chance to travel to different places once again. As a prince, I had seen little of the kingdom, and at my age, going on almost twenty-seven years, I longed to see more than the dreary landscape of Principalis Portum, the capital city of Portum, which was the governing region of Terra Somnia. The only other settlements which I had visited were Fawkes Maior and Minima, which lay to the north of the capital. Those were the first times I had seen more than the suffocating walls of the castle, the boats which would bring in their catches, the markets, and many fishmongers. When I had traveled, I had also seen races other than humans for the first time. I had seen merpeople on occasion near the local harbor, but they were in far greater abundance near the other ports; there were rumors that some fishermen in the capital were catching and selling them on the black market to dark druids, mages, and even men who would use them for their rumored magical properties, and that is supposedly why there were so few sightings near us. A harsh and quick wrapping on my large, oak, chamber door, pulled me from my state of contemplation. "Come in," I said with a sense of foreboding. The head of my personal guards, John Mosshelm, entered in a hurry. He moved swiftly, even though he was weighed down by his armor as well as a thick giant cloak. He looked at me from behind his long hair and wholesome beard, with grave concern. "My prince, Felix, forgive me for the disturbance, but I have grave news. Your father, Theodore Hemming, our king, has fallen ill and has called for you," he explained and bowed his head. Without a second thought, I gestured for him to follow and made my way out of my room, collected a flaming torch from another guard posted at my door and headed through the vast castle, eventually finding myself at the side of my father's bed. Already there were countless people present - I recognized some of the mages, druids, and physicians. They all made way for me as I entered and went to my father's side. I clasped his hand and noticed that, like in my nightmare, his veins were of a blackened hue. "What is wrong with him?" I directed my question at no one in particular. There was an unintelligible murmuring, but no one spoke up or gave a distinguishable answer. They were all too afraid to admit that they did not know. Whatever it was, the best among them, with all their knowledge and experience, could not tell me what was happening to my king. To my father.  Finally, my cousin, a spindly man with lengthy, dark black hair that hung long enough to reach his pointed nose, stepped forward. I was surprised that he was there. My emerald green eyes locked with his ocean blue ones and we both knew that the other was thinking the same thing. The previous day my father had received many gifts for the celebration of his day of birth, one of which was a moissanite necklace from the heads of Vlone in the Liber region, across the sea to the north-west of us. I had insisted that it needed to be inspected before my father adorned himself with it, but my cousin convinced him that it was a token of good favor and that to inspect it first, would be an insult and cause tension between our two already unfriendly regions. My cousin stood opposite me, on the other side of my father's bed, and bowed his head in shame. "My prince-" he began. "Jacob," I spat back. "My prince," he persisted to speak, "I fear I may have been mistaken. Although we cannot be entirely sure, it does seem that the necklace from Vlone has caused your father's illness." "Then remove it!" I screamed at the room and then when none of them moved to action, I made to take it off myself. "No! My prince," one of the mages stepped forward. "Any attempt to remove the necklace only worsens the king's condition and maims the person who touches it." "So what do you intend to do? Have you ordered the rulers of Vlone to come forth and reveal how to handle this cursed object?" I barked and looked down at the feeble remains of the powerful man, who only the day before had the strength to match that of the legendary lion-headed leo virens. The pale shadow of the man looked up at me, almost begging for me to do something to relieve him of the evident pain which was inflicting him. No one said anything in response to my questions and this only caused the anger in me to well up, until Jacob finally spoke for the collective. "My prince… the leaders of Vlone left, following the celebrations of your father's birthday. They traveled on horseback and will now be well within the neutral region. Once they reach the Melior region, to the west, they will likely be well out of our grasp-" "Why do you say that?" I asked, confused, "They will need to pass through Melior. We can send a fleet with soldiers and a message to the prime and human heads of Captiosus, the city of Melior, to be ready to stop them, before they are out of reach." "Felix," Jacob glanced at me with a pang of sorrow in his ocean blue eyes, "if the necklace is of the dark arts… a prime, possibly a jinn or a dullahan would be responsible for its creation; the mixed breeds from Vlone would not have the knowledge or magical abilities to create it. We have to assume that the heads of both Captiosus and Vlone have conspired to usurp the throne." "That's preposterous. Why would they do such a thing?" "Perhaps the primes and even the men of Captiosus have grown tired of being ruled and regulated by a human-only region," Jacob put forward. I mulled this all over in my head. It simultaneously made complete and no sense at all. We had always had good relations with the rulers of Captiosus, even though they were mainly so different to ourselves; the Melior region having been home to magical creatures with incredible powers and abilities. My father, as great of a warrior he was, always used diplomatic discussions as a first tool and only relied on violence as a last resort. That was how he had managed to maintain peace throughout the regions for so long, as did his father before him. Of course, there were regions such as Medius and Nemus, which were never going to accept the terms of my father's rule and had to constantly be dealt with in harsher manners. However, even they had been less of a problem since my father had become king. Considering the possibility that I, and all of Terra Somnia, might lose him, I immediately began to consider possible avenues of curring him. My first thought was to go as an emissary to Captiosus and discuss matters with them, but it was widely known that such talks always took a vast amount of time. And if they were behind this supposed attack, they would unlikely be willing to offer the remedy which my father so desperately needed. They may well have attacked on sight and then the capital would have been without a king as well as an heir.  My mind was swarming with the present predicament, but I kept finding myself drifting back to fond memories of my father, my king. He found me before he had even met my mother. He had gone fishing upriver of the city, with a group of friends when he was a young man, around my age, and whilst spearing a fish that passed by, had heard an infant crying in a nearby cave. The Oppidum river was not known to have had any magical elements to it, yet when he found me, it was evident that I was the product of a transporting spell. The earth around me was charred in a circular fashion and I was untouched by the flames. He carried me back to the castle that day and vowed to raise me as his own. He named me Felix and immediately nicknamed me 'the phoenix' because I was born from the ashes. He told me that as soon as he had set eyes on me, that he knew I was destined for great things. Now that the hour was at hand, though, I was not ready to step into his shoes - I was not ready to become king. And then it came to me. "Woodenbrooke Whitbane," I said to the room as though everyone would understand exactly what I was thinking. He had been my tutor when I was a young boy. He was a centaur mage who lived in the small forest to the east of the city; my mother, who had a soft spot for mixed breeds, enlisted him to be my tutor but was released of that duty when my father decided that Principalis Portum was to be a human-only settlement. "Who?" Jacob asked, pulling me from my scheming thoughts, back to the present. "Whitbane, he would know what to do!" I said with excitement now tinging my voice. One of the wizards present in the room stepped forward, and hesitantly spoke up, "But, my prince, no one has seen or heard from him in years… there are rumors of his whereabouts, some say he made his way south-east, but we could not be sure and even if we could find him, who is to say that he'd know any more than the many of us gathered here." "Because he was a centaur and a mage." I retorted. "My mother, who some of you would know, was part elf, told me how Whitbane was the most gifted of all magical creatures she knew. And from the classes I had with him, I can attest to the fact that he knew far more than those who supposed to elevate themselves above him, simply because they were human." My father finally spoke for the first time. His voice was hoarse and evidently pained, yet he spoke up nevertheless. He swallowed hard and said, "My boy, the journey to Whitbane would be far too dangerous… it is a risk I cannot allow you to take." He coughed and wheezed. An attendant wiped his forehead of sweat and gave him water to drink, which he struggled with and nearly made him choke. Jacob too put forward his reservations, but then offered to assist me if I was adamant about going to find Whitbane. "I am partially to blame for your grace's current state of health… if I had not insisted on your accepting the gift, my king would still be well. I have to agree that the journey would be dangerous, but so would losing our great king." "Thank you, Jacob, I welcome your assistance," I said, nodded, and then asked the collective if anyone had knowledge on the whereabouts of Woodenbrooke Whitbane. It turned out that the centaur had apparently traveled as far south as Unitatis in the region of Fortis. This would mean traveling through the neutral territory, mainly made up of forested earth leading toward the great wall, Murus, adjacent to Mount Mors Gelida, and then we would have to travel through the treacherous region of Medius, where there were many bandits, outlaws, and sub-sentient beings. After much debating and discussion, my cousin and I managed to gain the king's and the high counsel's approval to set out in search of the centaur. It was agreed that we would ready that night and begin traveling, with a small guard to accompany us, at first light. We would ride by horseback, I would be clothed as a prisoner so that if we were spotted on the road, no one would assume me to be of any true value. That night I could not sleep, and instead stayed by my father's side for the most part. At one time, he woke and glanced at me with shame marring his face. He looked a grey hue and I had to stop myself from allowing tears to flow, I could not let him know my fear that he was standing at death's door. "I'm sorry," he said and a rasping cough followed. "Whatever would you have to be sorry for?" I asked and leaned in closer so that he did not have to speak any louder than a whisper, as even the effort to speak normally was evidently taking a huge toll on him. "I should never have chased the likes of Woodenbrooke from Portum, he was good to us and a fine tutor to you," another bout of coughing racked his body. "Life has an ironic way of making us pay for our transgressions." "You did what you thought was best at the time; you're a good king and truly fine father," I smiled back at him, now the tears were streaming down my cheeks and I tasted the salt of them on my lips. "You just continue fighting until we get him back here and he heals you. That is all you need to do know, please just hold on until I return, understood?" "Yes, your grace," he managed a faint laugh. "Your mother would be so proud of you. Ah if only she were here to see our phoenix in all his glory. You're as selfless as she was and just as stubborn too. I could never tell her otherwise once she had made up her mind." "Thank you for letting me do this," I said with seriousness to my words. "No, thank you, my son. I knew, the moment I found you, you would be the son any father would dream of having…but now go, try to get some rest, and allow your old man the same." I agreed and left his chambers, only I did not head to sleep that night. For as much as this journey was owed to terrible reasons, I was secretly filled with an excess of excitement at the prospect of the journey ahead. It would be long and filled with an array of potential dangers, but it was the sort of adventure which I had longed for since I was a young boy. I went up to the tallest tower with stargazing equipment that night and, for the first time in years, did as Woodenbrooke had taught me. I studied them as he had instructed me and what I read, both concerned and excited me. From that moment on, my life would change forever.