Private Tales The Broken Crown

[Mariana]

Head shook slightly, she curled onto her side and gazed at him.

"This is ancient and powerful magic. Magic that was used to build the world. Can be used to destroy it. I don't think...there is. But."

She looked at him again, fingering the sheets between them.

"You, however, are making it more difficult to accept this. I'm not sure what else it would take. And you have enough to worry about as it is."

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre glanced briefly to where his armor and things lay.

Responsibility. Justice.

These had been the two tenants his father had passed down to him for as long as he could actually remember. It was what his life had revolved around, what he had been told was the ultimate project. He wanted his throne back.

Needed to get back what was rightfully his. That was justice. That was proper. That was right. Yet he also had responsibility. "There is always another way."

He repeated simply.

"Magic has a price, that price must be paid." Alre was no mage, but he knew enough. "We just have to find a way to pay the price."

 

[Mariana]

She turned onto her other side, her back to him, closing her eyes. The priestess truly didn't think there was another way. And when it came time, he'd have to accept what he needed to do. The fate of this land depended on him.

"Maybe," she spoke quietly. No promises in her words. No false hope.

"Let's focus on drawing the dark mages here. Evading your Uncle. Then...," she sighed. "Maybe something."

After a time, she fell into a fitful sleep until the strong light of morning began filtering through their window and the smells of breakfast wafted through their door.

 

[Alre Castielle]

The morning came, and Alre was already awake. He was sitting in a chair opposite the bed, his armor polished, and his blade cradled within his hands.

He was running a whetstone along it's length, sharpening the edge before flipping it over in his palms and doing the same again. The way he seemed was more focused, Stalwart, serious. He was home now, a different man.

A man with a mission.

With a future.

The stone swiped over the edge one last time with a loud ring. "You're awake."

Alre said with a smile, looking up at Averey. He seemed almost a different man all together.

 

[Mariana]

She rubbed at her eyes and sat up, holding the sheet across her chest. “As are you. Up early? And ready?”
A smile found its way on her lips even as surprise darted in her eyes. He looked like a man with a purpose. So far from the drunkard in the streets.

She was so...proud of him.

Now this, this was a man. Not that he wasn’t before. It was just...the change was in his eyes. And it looked good on him.

Then again, she’d always been the one to be not a morning person.

“Do you think you’ll need to use that today?” Eyes flickered to his sword as she dropped the sheet and slipped out of bed, going to find a dress for the day.

 

[Alre Castielle]

"Better to have it, and not need it." Alre told her simply. "Than need it and not have it."

He flipped the blade quickly, sheathing it without a second thought and putting it against the chair. There was a smoothness to the way he moved that hadn't been there before. Alre had always been deadly, dangerous, but something was different now.

There was a focus to him. "We'll need to go fast."

The once King explained.

"If we get caught..." Lips thinned. "It won't be too pretty."

She would have to use her magic, he would have to use his blade. "I would rather not...kill anyone."

Not here. Not home.

 

[Mariana]

She tugged a light-lavender colored dress over her head. Then the riding leathers. Her few belongings she quickly put together then gave him an incredulous look as she exited the room with him just behind her.

"You. Not wanting to kill? You? Really? Have my prayers finally been answered?"

A quick wink his way as they made their way through the kitchen space.

"And you're right. It won't be pretty. For them." Her magic was wild and dangerous. She couldn't promise who would walk away if she was provoked. "Breakfast to go or here?"

Their activities the night before had made her rather starving.

 

[Alre Castielle]

"These are my people." Alre explained with a simple shrug.

There wasn't much else to say about that. These people were not the enemy, they were no Anirians or Imperials. They were....his people. Killing them would only mean reducing his own numbers. Fingers tightened for a moment, and he slowly stepped back.

"On the way." He told her. "The Quicker we get out of here the better."

Alre knew they had to keep moving. "My Uncles soldiers may not be here, but if someone recognizes me it could go badly."

Very badly.

"My father always had spies, and that network is likely still in place." He would have kept it intact, and his Uncle was no fool.

 

[Mariana]

Eggs and bacon stuffed between two slices of toasted bread and wrapped in paper. That's what they were offered as they left and Averey gratefully took one, already beginning to devour it as they walked to the stables next door to reclaim their horses.

A look to the king.

"How did you manage to get away the first time?"

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre guided his horse out of it's stall, frowning for a brief moment as he mulled over the answer to her question. His hand came down and patted his mounts cheek. "I killed a lot of people."

He said quietly.

"And a lot of people died for me." Alre had always been a smarmy little shit, even when he had been Prince. Always a clever word and a quick tongue, a lot of people had despised him and told him he had not been worthy of the throne.

But a lot of people had loved him too.

Friends, family, loyal Knights. There had been men and women both who had seen him as a friend, an ally. Most of them had died during his escape.

"It wasn't easy." He told her. "A few friends smuggled me out, there was a fight..."

His head shook.

 

[Mariana]

Averey listened quietly. With the state she'd found him in, she knew it hadn't been easy. It'd been hard. Hard to lose what friends he'd had. Those loyal to him without anything he'd been able to do to stop his Uncle. She brushed a hand on his shoulder and squeezed as she passed him.

A simple gesture saying she was listening. She was there for him. Even if she wasn't going to be there for him that long.

She mounted her horse in one fluid movement that made elves graceful in the way they were. Sitting atop the saddle, she guided her white horse forward, taking out her breakfast already and taking a bite.

"They made their choices Alre," her voice was quiet. "Where to next? Do you think you have any friends left here we can trust?"

 

[Alre Castielle]

He nodded. "My Cousins."

That had been the plan since they'd turned their way towards home. He quickly pulled himself up into the saddle, not quite as smoothly as Averey but quick enough that anyone watching would have known that he was used to the act.

Reins were quickly tugged as they headed out into the streets, Alre watching the meager faces around them. Most tried to avoid any sort of eye-contacting, clearly avoiding any trouble that might come.

"We'll have to skirt at the border then head north." He explained. "There is a Keep, it's unlikely my Uncle will have tested them."

Eren'Muil was a massive fortress controlled by his cousins. A branch family of the royal line Alre was a part of. The Keep was said to be impregnable, with the only army ever to have breached it being lead by Alre's great grandfather.

 

[Mariana]

"Well," she swallowed another bite of breakfast, finish it off rather quickly. "Let's hope they give us a warm welcome. Should I be worried any of them hold Vel Anir's same views toward elves?"

A raise of auburn brows in his direction.

They came to the half-burned windmill. Two children were sitting in the grass, picking the wild flowers. As Alre and Averey approached, the stood and ran inside the small house connected to the windmill, peeking out from behind a partially closed door.

Averey took one of the few coins she had from her purse belt and dropped it among the flowers.

It wasn't much but...at least it was something. The path they were on curled ahead more field and disappeared into some woods.

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre shook his head. "No, not in Alven."

He explained.

"Vel Anir is our neighbor, but out here that sort of thing doesn't really happen." The problem had always been far more about class than race. It was an issue similar to Alliria, not Vel Anir. People struggled, and their lords was what they struggled with.

It had been better under his father, or at least Alre believed it had been, but his Uncle had clearly changed all that once again.

The young Prince rubbed at his face.

"Your biggest worry is me, in a way." He told her. "My Uncles men find me and..."

He shrugged and made a cutting motion across his neck.

 

[Mariana]

The elf priestess shifted in her saddle, giving the man with her a look.

"You could say the same for me. The biggest worry for you is me. If the Dark Priest finds you, he'll do the same as your Uncle's men. Perhaps worse." Death was not always the worst outcome. There were all kinds and forms of torture, ones that would have you begging for death in the end. Rumor had it, the Dark Priest could also trap souls.

"If your Uncle's men try to touch me, trust me. They'll probably become ash." Her voice was somber as she spoke. Violence was not something Averey gravitated to. But if pushed, she would defend herself. And those she loved. She remained alert as they rode on, eyes tracking those they passed along the road.

 

[Alre Castielle]

His shoulders rolled in a shrug. "Looks like we both carry a death sentence."

Something each of them had already known of course.

They were both marked somehow, both put out in the same pasture. It would have been funny, if it wasn't also so tragic. Alre shook his head, smiling to himself and deciding that perhaps this was a joke that was only for himself.

He knew he could be a bit morbid.

Their journey for the rest of the day was surprisingly jovial, or rather, less dour than it had been in days past. Alre spoke about the history of his country, explained a bit about his lineage, where he came from, and finished with an explanation of the trinket he carried.

The bright blue jewel flickered as he turned it in his hands. "The Seal of Kings."

He told her softly.

"Probably the only reason my Uncle is having trouble in some areas." It was a mark of the King, and one he had stolen on his way out.

 

[Mariana]

She listened and shared some of her own past with the king. How she’d ended up at the temple. How she’d loved serving the city and its people. The legends around the temple magic. A day when monsters roamed the lower corridors and tunnels guarding the ancient scrolls.

And for once, they didn’t seem to argue as much.

“So it’s a symbol to the people?” She guessed. “Or does it have some magic within it?” She brought her horse alongside his own, leaning closer to get a better look.

 

[Alre Castielle]

"Both." Alre said as he flipped the small object around in his fingers and then quickly tucked it away into his robe.

The thing was valuable, in it's own sort of way.

A thief might not have been able to sell it for much. The Gem was a simple one, not even sapphire, but a mage might have been able to see the true value within the artifact. Alre touched the pocket he had slipped the artifact into and then straightened his back.

"It's not important." He told her. "Not really."

A shrug rolled over his shoulders. "Just some stories, that's all."

Nothing 'factual'. "There's more important things to talk about.

 

[Mariana]

A hand brushed across the scroll markings on her arm. For a moment, they felt like they were growing warmer. But it could be just the late afternoon sun above. They'd spent a few hours on the road already.

She turned to him, auburn brows raising in interest.

"Oh? More important things to talk about like what? Am I going to have to start calling you, Your Highness?" A twist of her lips with a playful pat of her hand on his arm as she rode past.

 

[Alre Castielle]

He shook his head.

"Not until I have the throne." Then it was a matter of decorum. There were ritual to Kingship, something that most people would have rather forgotten. His Uncle had always been strict on it, his father less so.

Perhaps predictably. "I more meant our plans."

He told her.

"When we get to my Kin they will welcome us, but after that..." Alre frowned. "How do we plan to turn your hunters on our for?"

Alre asked.

 

[Mariana]

"Not until I have the throne."

Averey rolled her eyes. "Perhaps I'll reserve the title for the bedroom only." A quiet huff of laughter even as she kept her tongue about probably not being alive anymore. Not when the dark mages came. The dark priests.

"If I use my magic, enough of it, they'll probably sense it. And if not, the stories about my magic being used and the markings on my skin will no doubt circulate to their scouts and hunters already on our trail. If they think I am sheltered and with your Uncle, they would not hesitate to cut him down or his troops to get to me. Do you think we could stage it so it looks like I'm with him? Or perhaps I should just go to him before his spies report that I'm with you?"

 

[Alre Castielle]

He shook his head. "No, that would be a bad idea."

Alre said with a shake of his head.

"My Uncle despises magic." Though he had never quite understood why that was so. The man should have seen magic as an advantage, his father certainly had and so had his father before him. There was no real arguing with that.

"We'll have to make it look like you're with my Uncles men." He said, scratching at his chin. "And I think I know how."

Alre mused. "After we get to my Cousins."

It would take some time, some killing, but it was doable at least.

 

[Mariana]

“Maybe he’s in league with the templars if he dislikes magic,” she said quietly. Head tilted to the side. Her elf heading picking up on sounds no doubt missed by Alre.

“Multiple riders approach,” she warned. A moment later, several men on large black stallions appeared around the road’s curve. Maybe they’d get lucky and they would be Alre’s cousins at last.

 

[Alre Castielle]

Alre scoffed. "Templars?"

Head shook.

"Not in this kingdom. My Great Grandfather drove all of them out during the Templar Wars." It was a conflict that had nearly brought many nations to their knees, or at least close to it. A finger passed over his lips, though he silenced himself as she spoke of riders.

His gaze flickered up, and he drew closer to Averey. The hood that was cast over his features was drawn a bit more tightly.

"Head down." He said. "We're simple travelers, that's all."

Alre took a breath as a cadre of knights on black stallions began to head towards them. Their livery was that of the royal house, his house. His uncles house.

 

[Mariana]

“Halt. Who goes there?” The stallions circled them. Averey gripped the reigns tightly. Her neck stiffened even as she looked to them from beneath her lashes.

“My husband and I are merchants from the West.”

A man with a sneer on his lips and golden hair sneered down at them, cutting off their path. “To travel on this road you have to pay taxes. Lucky for you, we can collect the roll now.” His sneer turned to a smirk and widened.