“The meat’s ready, let’s eat.”
Zander looked at George and handed the roasted game to him. The meat was perfectly grilled, with a glistening, golden sheen and a tempting aroma. George swallowed his dissatisfaction at the interruption along with his saliva when he looked at his first meal in who knows how long. However, he still muttered a “killjoy” when he took it.
There’s always something about cooking food over an open fire outdoors. Maybe it’s the wood smoke or the air with the scent of the grass and earth that makes food seem to smell better. Or perhaps feel of a cool breeze as you sit beside a merry flame and listen to the rustle of leaves over the crackle of burning sap as you watch you meal slowly come together, knowing that you made it without the convenience of a kitchen.
Whatever the reason, George couldn’t wait to dig in. The hot meat scalded his mouth but he didn’t care. Aside from a slight resistance from the crisp skin, his teeth sunk into succulent, juicy flesh and he savoured the slightly salty, smoky taste. It was a sizeable chunk of meat, even if he could not determine which animal it came from. But it reminded George a little of the hares he used to catch and eat so he savoured the flavour of it, happy to postpone the story for the time being. When he was done, Zander handed him a cup of what smelled and tasted like mead and he was happy. It really was the small, simple pleasures like this that made a person content.
When he had had his fill of food and drink, George sat back and watched the flames and sparkling ash dance to nature’s orchestra. The wind from the leaves, the percussion from the stream, and, as if the maestro had pointed his baton, the sudden string from the crickets of this world joined in to make a lovely after meal impromptu. It should put one at peace but the story yet to be finished left a discord in George’s mind. And he looked at Zander, who looked back. The standoff didn’t last long and the other man gave a sigh.
“You’re good at this.”
“I’ve had years of practice. So? What happened next?”
“We weren’t happy with Gennaios’ arrogance but we had no choice. Aiden was upset that his brother had proposed such a thing, since he had no interest in the throne whatsoever. But Gennaios was big and prosperous. Their king had offered eight hundred knights and mages altogether and along with my brother-in-law’s five hundred and my own one thousand, it looked hopeful. We were going to suppress the Schied and find a way to seal the entrance. There had been rumours that other rifts were appearing in other kingdoms. A victory here meant a lot to everyone. So we got ready for a final battle, leaving Aiden and the princess behind. He wasn’t satisfied since he had been learning magic diligently, ready to join us at any time. This was exactly the reason we couldn’t let him. The loss of Aida was still a shadow in our hearts, especially my elder boy. He told Aiden to stay and learn how to be king, and to properly learn to love the princess. He didn’t want Aiden to hate her because of her brother’s words and regret anything. He was a good man, my son, even if he was too serious for his own good.” The old man heaped praises onto his son, a soft, sad smile on his face. He straightened up and continued his story.
“We were ready at the rift front. By now the rift was as large as the castle,” his hand moved to point at his former home, “and our base had to be moved back several leagues away since the Schied had started defending their rift. It was rather impressive, Prince Leopald led the Gennain army, my brother-in-law Commander Kaellan led the Andreian one and my son and I each led a battalion of five hundred men. Each with our own colours: black and red; blue, white and gold; black, white and silver; and purple and gold; standing proud against the setting sun. On the other side, the Schied were once again led by dirge dragons. Large dragons blue black bigger than a house with two heads. One head breathes fire and the other ice. But when they have been infected by the poison of the Schied, one head breathed rage and the other despair. Surrounding them were the four-winged falcons of terror, the horned wolves of chaos, the winged lions of despair, the water leopards of greed… it was as if the Schied were mocking us, taking our coat of arms and turning them against us.” Zander lapsed into silence again as he relived the battle in his mind.
“As the sun died in the sky, the rift started to glow. It was in that glow that we saw all of the Schied march out, all covered in the poisonous fog facing us, lusting for blood. And as the light from the rift started to fade, I could hear the shallow breathing from some of the soldiers as the fog began to affect them. The stretch of leather while they tightened of their grips against their weapons, the clink of armour and chainmail as they began to fidget, the restless hoof beats of the horses getting spooked. We signalled for the mages to illuminate the battleground and balls of light soon appeared and floated into the sky, converging into a tiny sun to hide the moon’s brilliance. The dirge dragons looked at us. There were three of them but the largest was obviously the leader. He was more black than blue and the fog of poison and fear converged and turned into wings upon his back. Flapping them, he rose into the air and we could feel the winds that wanted to push us back along with the dust that made us choke. Before he could sound his bugle cry, my son did it first. Raising his sword, he pointed it at the creatures of the shadow and gave a roar “For Queen Aida!” and led his horse into the sea of beasts. His knights bravely followed, all loyal to the last breath.”
“His knights charged in after him, swords and armour gleaming in the light of the false sun while magic spells of all colours leapt ahead of them, doing their best to protect my normally calm and level headed son. Seeing that my son and his troops had started to move, Kaellan also moved his troops to help his nephew. Mine and Leopald’s troops followed suit. You should have seen the battle. Under the light of the moon and that false sun, knights and mages fought, bringing down creatures that was supposed to be our pride. Cutting down creature after creature, we pushed the beast tide back. Step by step, we brought the battle to the rift. We were doing it! The creatures’ reinforcements could not keep up with the vigour of our swords, could not quench our fires for victory.” This was the most animated George had seen Zander. His eyes gleamed as his hands started to gesticulate while he told his story. Then, the fire of his enthusiasm died and his hands slowly came back down. George took a deep breath, guessing that the story was about to take a bad turn.
“The dirge dragons marched forth and as one, all six heads let loose their flames of rage and ice of despair. Those who were not injured in body soon became weakened in mind. The boiling rage made many reckless, charging into the thickest of the fray, unable to discern enemy from ally; while the chill of despair made others lose their will to fight, standing there defenceless while the beasts moved in for the kill. If that was not enough, they began their requiem call and the dead answered. All the fallen, man and beast, rose again. Their dead eyes looked at everyone and the icy despair we felt froze us all. It wasn’t just the bodies of the dead that answered this dirge, the souls of those who were lost danced to its tune too…” Zander swallowed, his eyes slowly getting wet.
“Aida’s soul answered as well and she stood by the dragons’ side, looking at us unseeingly while she sent spell after spell at us. I’m not ashamed to admit it but I broke down when I saw her. I think Kaellan did too. With two commanders out, it was all Leopald and my son could do to control the troops and confront the never ending enemies. I never understood how my son could stand the pain of watching his mother’s soul help our hated enemies or how he had managed to bear the onslaught of rage and despair that made stronger men cry. He was only twenty three… barely a man. It was much later that I realized… instead of fighting it, he had just accepted it. Accepted the anger that ate at the soul and channelled it into every swing of his sword; accepted the despair that crushed the heart and used it to temper his mind. He had accepted all of it for the last ten years since he lost Aida and he had used it to forge himself. His determination had not come from love; his desire to protect had come from the raging jealousy of losing his treasures to others and his despair at his weakness. He had used the Schied’s poison to make himself immune…” George’s heart gave a lurch. To accept all of that negativity and not lose himself… it was a fine line between the sharp blade sanity and the pointed edge of madness. It didn’t matter which way you fell, you would only bleed alone in the end.
“The burdens that he bore… he moved forward again and again, cutting down the enemies in front of him. His soldiers could no longer keep up with him and all I could do was sit in the distance, too shaken to lift my sword, too tear blinded to see. My heart was too shattered to do anything and my son had to shoulder my share as well. That day, he had resolved to die… like a demon, he rushed at the dragons. He must have imbued his sword with magic for he sliced the dragons like they were naught but straw dummies. I couldn’t see but I could feel the crash as the dragon died, hear their raging screams when they saw their companion fall. I raised my head and as the tears cleared from my eyes, the second dragon had been cut down. My son then leapt in to the air, and he used magic to rush at the final dragon, his black cape flapping at his back like the wings of the devil. His sword seemed to have sliced the sky as well… for I was sure I could see the colour of the sky change, as if he had cut the light. The thunderous crash shook the ground and many lost their balance, falling to the ground and enveloped in the dust that the monster brought up from his plummet. And then…” Another pause. George allowed Zander to collect his wits and regain his composure.
“In the silence for it seemed like everyone, human or beast had been terrified by what he had done. I could hear the thud of his footsteps and the creak of his armour, the flap of his cape, and the sound of metal against sand and stone as he dragged his sword against the ground. He stopped in front of the soul of his mother and I was sure I could see tears in her eyes, for the death of the dragons had lifted the bindings of slavery upon her. He gave her a bow before he knelt down. I could not hear what he said but I watched Aida bend down and hold him, her forehead touching the back of his head. Then he rose and he walked towards the rift. It was then that the Schied came to their senses. They left the gaping knights and mages behind and charged as one towards my son. It was Aida and the ghosts of former knights that came to his rescue. They stood in between him and the creatures, a wall of light that prevented the shadows from approaching. He stood in front of the rift and turned to look at us. He gave us a smile, lifted his sword and stabbed it deep into the ground before he turned and walked into the rift, as if he would not be needing it any longer. The glow from the rift grew brighter after he passed through, it was so bright we had to turn our eyes away and then there was the sound of something breaking. When we could open our eyes again, we saw the sky like this, as if what had shattered was the heavens itself. In exchange for the sky, in exchange for my son, the rift was closed forever. All the creatures that escaped that day became the remnants of the Schied that we see. But because of my son’s sacrifice…” there were tears streaming down the old man’s face now.
“My son used his name and body to act as the seal. After that battle, no one remembered him. No one remembered that I had another son who looks like me, whom they all called the blood prince. Even I… I can’t remember the name of my own son.” He choked, the grief that poured out with his words were the biggest despair of all.
