Chapter 25 - Halruaa

Teleportation never failed to make Aven feel nauseous. He was spat out the other side of the portal and Jorak stumbled a bit on his hooves, giving a grunt of irritation. “Me, too,” Aven snorted, pushing his fingers down Jorak’s neck. He drew his eyes up, and soaked in his new surroundings.

Halruaa.

It was more lush than he had expected.

When Kendyll told them about her home country, made up of flat, windswept plains broken only by broad, sluggish rivers, he had expected simply an empty wasteland. But Halruaa, it would seem, was quite beautiful. Even in the beginning of winter, the grassy countryside and plains were a vibrant shade of green, and the grasses that swayed in the wind were delicate and soft. A small stream trickled to their right, which the horses happily set upon.

Kendyll tapped Aven’s shoulder from behind. “Well?” She asked with a smile. “What do you think?”

“I think it’s beautiful,” he said honestly.

“As beautiful as it’s always been,” Lucian confirmed.

“You’ve been here?”

“I’ve visited in the past.”

“You and Marcello got into a lot of trouble,” Kendyll said with a fond smile. “Remember when-”

“Yeah.” It was clear Lucian didn’t want to talk about it as he nudged Soleil’s sides and guided her towards a dirt road in the distance.

There it was again. That refusal to talk about Marcello. What happened between the two?

Aven urged Jorak forward, and they began to make their way down the road.

It was warm, humid. In the distance, Aven could see the distant brew of a thunderstorm - which, according to Kendyll, was a usual occurrence in Halruaa. To the north, a great wall of mountains separated Halruaa from the Bandit Wastes. “All of Halruaa is surrounded by those mountains?” Aven asked and Kendyll nodded behind him.

“That’s right,” she said. “The West Wall, the North Wall and the East Wall, and of course, there’s the Great Sea to the south. So we’re protected on all sides."

"Why the secrecy?” Aven asked. “Lucian tells me that Halruaa is an isolationist country, yes?"

"It used to be,” she said. “Still is, really. But my father began to take the first steps to reconnecting with the outside world, and Theseus brought us the rest of the way.” The mention of Theseus had her shoulders falling. “I think.. Marci is just trying to follow in his footsteps as best as he can. Of course, the Eastern Wall will always be closed off."

"Why’s that..?"

"Because it’s the only thing that separates Halrua from Dambrath."

"Dambrath.” Aven remembered that name. “That’s the country you’re at war with, yes?"

"That’s right."

“Marcello at war,” Lucian sneered with a roll of his eyes. “I imagine he’ll settle the feud with a cup of tea at a fashion show.”

Kendyll grimaced. “…he’s actually been in a few battles.”

That has Lucian turning. “Really?”

She nodded. “The war is all he can think about anymore.”

“The war, and wayward sisters who get into trouble.”

Kendyll flushed. A finger reached up to tug on a lock of brown hair. “…yeah. That, too.”

The trio went quiet. The further they rode, the lower the sun started to set in the sky. Aven insisted on riding as far into the day as they possibly could before stopping for the night. After all, the night was when the Tears of Midnight would be striking its hardest. At seven in the evening, they stopped at one of the slow, meandering rivers for the horses to get some water.

Aven slid off of Jorak’s back and drew his calloused hand down its neck before moving to Lucian who had stopped to lean over the water, his face pale. “Lucian,” he said. “Are you okay?”

“Fantastic,” Lucian said. Before vomiting into the water.

Aven’s heavy hand rested on his shoulder. “Ride on Jorak with me.”

“I can ride by myself.”

“I know you can. But let me help you.”

Lucian was too tired to put up a fight. He nodded and lowered until he was sitting on the river bank, fair fingers twisting into the long, swaying grasses. Aven lowered down beside him.

“…after you’re healed,” Aven murmured. “What’s our next move?”

“What’s this?” Lucian glanced over, a smirk tugging at his lips. “Thinking ahead?”

“Have to, if I intend to protect you during whatever scheme you come up with next.”

“They’re not schemes. They’re tactics.”

“For your next tactics then.”

Lucian drew his fingertips over the water’s edge. “We wait in Halruaa for the Mindulgulph and Mages to arrive,” he said. “Then, we take what we have to Aeliorn.”

“Do you really think it’s enough?”

“It’s enough to start,” Lucian said. “We’ll begin small. Liberating towns on Aeliorn’s coast. I think I even have a spot in mind we can begin renovating into a fort. And then… we go from there.”

Aven nodded. “And then we get your crown back.”

“ …yes. Then I get my crown back.” He looked up. “What the hell is that.”

Aven followed Lucian’s gaze and his axes materialized in his grasp as he shoved to his feet.

At the other end of the river, two creatures drank from the water’s edge. They looked like elongated crocodiles with over a dozen legs and brilliantly-colored blue scales, adorned with a plethora of horns. Aven moved forward to splash through the water and strike, when Kendyll grabbed his arm. "No, don’t!” She said. “Those are Halruaan Behir!"

"They look like things that can eat you,” Lucian said.

“They are. But they’re not evil! They’re just… just animals. They’re even bred as pets here."

"Pets?!” Lucian glanced over. “A dog seems like a better option."

“They’re quite intelligent. And they- Aven? What are you doing?”

Aven was slowly moving across the water. It was up to his knees. “You say they can be trained as pets. I’m going to go pet one.”

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Kendyll started, before Lucain sighed and pulled her down to sit beside him.

“Don’t try to stop him,” he said. “I gave up a long time ago.”

The slosh of water lapped up the end of Aven’s tunic as he waded across. Both Behir’s raised their great heads, reptilian gazes wearily sizing up the large figure.

From where he slowed, he heard a low hiss crawl from one’s maw as it lowered. A crackle of electricity jumped across its fangs, tail lashing in warning.

Aven stopped, slowly raising a hand. “Easy…”

An electric breath flared from the behir, snapping across the surface of the water and the barbarian leapt, diving across to the other side of the bank and rolling to a knee. The Behir had both backed off a few steps, heads raised threateningly.

“Wait, wait,” he hissed. His hands raised to the air submissively, the man remaining in his place on a knee. Grounded.

One of them hesitated with curiosity. It’s golden gaze swept Aven, the hiss in the back of its throat quieting. It’s nostrils flared to draw in his scent. A clawed appendage sank to the riverbank, stepping towards the man where he kneeled.

Aven stayed entirely still, letting it come to him. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, hairs on his arms standing tall as air currents shifted in the beast’s presence.

Its head dipped down closer, sniffing at the outstretched fingers while the other hissed behind it.

His fingers wiggled, delicately brushing a scaled snout, and it recoiled with a jump. The behir skimmed him one final time as if making sure Aven would stay put before its sandpaper tongue drew across the palm of his hand, lapping at some lingering taste of food.

Immediately curly brown hair was standing up, electricity jumping and buzzing down his fingertips and shooting down his arm.

“There you go,” he laughed, the chuckle low and resonating in his chest. “I won’t hurt you.”

It licked a final time and withdrew with a sneeze. A small bolt of lightning struck Aven’s shoulder. With a surprised yelp, he wobbled in his stance and crashed onto his back.

The behir didn’t waste a second leaping over the man, burying its head to sniff further at him, messing up his clothes, his hair. A large claw skidded across his arm to bury into the ground, but never broke skin.

It’s tail struck the behir behind it and another warning hiss resounded.

That time it stopped. The behir atop Aven rose its head to look back at its companion as it began to move off back towards the rolling, open plains.

Beneath, Aven looked a mess, charged with static and covered in slobber.

“Go on, it’s alright.”

Another snuff chided from the behir and it clamoured off the man, winding its long body around to follow its companion.

As Aven played with the behir, Kendyll blinked and sat down beside Lucian. “…he’s very good with animals.”

Lucian, who had been watching his lover with a glint of pride in his eyes, turned. “That’s right. Back in Aeliorn, he was a gladiator by the name of Beast Tamer. I think he gets along better with beasts and animals than he does humans.”

“He’s incredibly gentle with them.”

“He’s a gentle giant in general.”

The behirs lumbered towards the horizon and Aven sat up, turning to look towards Lucian and Kendyll with a large grin.

He fist pumped the air and climbed back to his feet. “Did you see that?!”

“Sure did,” Lucian purred. “It amazes me how you insist on making friends wherever you go.”

Aven flushed. “I just-”

“I know. You like animals. Jorak would be proud. Now go wash off. You’re not sleeping next to me covered in electric lizard spit.”

Aven smiled, wading back into the water to splash himself with water, dunking his head and shaking the river from curled locks.

“He makes you happy.”

Lucian glanced over to Kendyll. “..he does.”

“I’m happy for you.” Her hand rested over his. “You deserve it.”

Lucian hesitated. His eyes drifted back to Aven who’d pulled off his shirt to wash it in the river. His eyes locked on the bandages across Aven’s back and he sighed. “No. I don’t think I do.”

————————————————–

Aven insisted on traveling a bit further in the night before they stopped to make camp. Kendyll took the lead as she guided them along the Halruaan roads. They were barren. Almost empty. When Aven asked why, she informed them that most of the roads had been closed off at nights due to the war efforts. Every so often, they would pass a farm, the cabin glowing gold with candles in the window in the distance.

He could feel the heat of Lucian’s body behind him. The boy was leaned against him asleep, every breath labored and strangled, forehead soaked with sweat. Aven grimaced. “…all right,” he murmured. “We should probably try and find a place to sleep… where would you recommend, Kendyll.”

No answer. Aven turned. “Kendyll?”

She pointed.

From down the road, a large parade of knighted horses were coming down the road. Aven guessed there were about a hundred of them, flying a flag with a symbol. A red shield, with two circular bands of white and a silver star in the center.

“Get off the road,” Kendyll ordered.

Aven hadn’t the faintest idea what was happening, but he did as she said, drawing Jorak off of the road and Kendyll followed on Soleil.

The procession of mounted soldiers slowed to a stop in front of the three. The man whom Aven could only guess was the captain sailed forward on his great warhorse, regarding them suspiciously. “This road is closed off past midnight for the war efforts,” he grunted from inside his helmet. “You’re to return to your homes immediately.”

“You will give me no such orders.”

Bewildered, the captain looked back to his second. “Excuse me?” He grunted. “Little lady, that isn’t a request. It’s an order, from Netyarch Marcello himself.”

Kendyll’s cheeks puffed. She drew her horse forward. “Then when you deliver Netyarch Marcello’s sister to him,” she said. “He will thank you for returning her.”

“Netyarch Marcello’s…” the man pushed the visor of his helmet up with a frantic clamor of bumping links of armor. His face had gone white. “Are you meaning to tell me-”

“My name is Kendyll Silvercrest,” she said. “And I demand a troop of your men to escort me and my companions back to Halarahh at once.”

“Lady Silvercrest!” The man fell from his horse, going down on one knee to incline his head. “It is a relief to see you, my lady! The kingdom feared you were lost. Of course, of course we will escort you to the capital. But… but your companions-”

“My companions are Prince Lucian of Aeliorn, and his warrior, Aven.”

“Netyarch Marcello has barred entry from outsiders to the cap-”

“He will allow them entry. Prince Lucian and Aven saved my life and are the only reason I stand here today.”

Conflict broke out across the man’s features as his gaze flicked over to Aven, who now held Lucian in front of him to keep him upright. “…yes, my lady,” he said. “We have recently come from Fort Talathgard and are riding to a compound on the River Altuar. We were heading to the West Wall to provide reinforcements. When we arrive at the compound, we will escort you back to the city in the morning.”

“We’ll need to leave early,” Aven murmured. He held Lucian close. “The Prince is very ill.”

“Yes, my lord. This way.”

——————————————–

Lucian didn’t wake for the remainder of the night. When they arrived at the compound, a fortified complex on the edge of the river, Aven slipped off of Jorak and took the Prince delicately in his arms, following the Captain’s directions to their chambers. The complex was built for soldiers, not royalty. As such, the Captain gave up his own chambers to the Halruaan Princess and the outlander Prince, promising that if there was anything they needed, he would take care of it.

Lucian was lain out on the bed. Aven lifted the back of his hand and pressed it to his forehead, grimacing at the heat pooling off of the prince.

“Here,” Kendyll said. She drew forward with a rag of cool water to place on Lucian’s forehead.

“Thank you,” Aven murmured. He eased down onto the bed. His hand took Lucian’s and he squeezed, brushing silvery blonde hair back from his eyes.

He didn’t notice Kendyll watching him. “…how did you and the Prince meet?” She asked.

“He never told you?” She shook her head. Aven drew his thumb over Lucian’s hand. “…it was a long time ago,” he murmured. “While I was still a slave, a gladiator in the arena… I was perhaps sixteen, and he was maybe thirteen. It was the Prince’s birthday, and he came to the arena for a celebration.” He lifted Lucian’s head to feed him a small sip of water. “I’m not even sure if he was paying attention. Thumb up.. Thumb down. He seemed almost bored as he had people put to the sword or released at the end of a fight.”

Kendyll shook her head. “That doesn’t sound like Lucian. He was… sweet.”

“Sweet.” Aven snorted. “I’m not so sure that was a word that could describe Lucian Arceneaux. When it was my turn, I was to kill an elf… I never even knew his name, but he was something of a friend to me. I killed his lioness - Kion’s mother - and Lucian ordered me to kill him when I beat him.”

Kendyll anticipated a sad end to this story. “Did you?”

“No.” Her eyes widened with surprise. Aven looked up. “I told the Prince no. I refused to do it. That night, my master threatened to take my head, and demanded I made up to the Prince for my insult. So he took me to the palace where I met Lucian again.” He smirked. “It was.. An interesting time. We spoke, I kissed his boot.. We danced.”

“You danced?” She giggled. “How did that happen?”

“A convoluted series of events,” Aven snorted.

“And now you’re both friends.”

“…yeah. Friends.” Aven’s thumb drew away a droplet of sweat. “Now it’s your turn to tell me something.”

“Oh?”

“Why does Lucian hate Marcello so much? What happened between him and your brother?”

Kendyll exhaled, dragging a hand through her hair and working out the loops of a braid she’d mindlessly woven. “Marcello never liked to talk about it either,” she admits. Her gaze flicked up to Aven with an honest burn. “As allies to Aeliorn, we always went back and forth with visits. We practically grew up seeing Lucian every year or two. And Marcello didn’t always hate him. They actually seemed to hit it off at first, Marcello tried to teach him things, actually.”

Aven frowned. “Then what happened?”

“He always just… said that he and Lucian got into a fight. That it didn’t matter anymore, because what happened after was done.” “After?” “…Darrien and our father were close. Our father often liked to show off around him, and when it came to disciplining the boys for fighting,” Kendyll grimaced, “He hurt Marcello and damaged his eye. He had it replaced with a magic one that he hides beneath his eyepatch. I suppose they still just both blame each other.”

Aven found himself leaning over Lucian again, fingers sweeping blonde hair back away from his forehead, and eyes scanning pallid features. “You promise he’ll still help him? I know it’s easy to not like him but he’s… great when you really know him.”

“He’ll help. He knows not to test me,” Kendyll soothes, her lip quirking up at the corner.

“…What?”

“You really like Lucian, don’t you?”

The man’s cheeks burned red as he looked up from the blonde. “More than I should,” he mutters. “And we’re not done. What happened after he lost his eye?”

“Theseus caught Lucian going to visit Marcello. It’s likely they decided then to entirely ignore one another’s existence. Every other visit after, they never interacted with each other until the visits stopped almost entirely. What with our mom and dad dying… now Theseus. We haven’t gone much of anywhere. Marcello hasn’t left since any of it.”

“You worry about him.”

“Every day, but he’s stubborn. He keeps people locked out of his head, and he’s infuriatingly good at lying.” Aven snorted at the thought. “Sounds like Lucian.”

“Maybe another reason why they didn’t work out.” Kendyll motioned to Lucian who gave a shudder in his sleep. “You should take the bed with him. I’ll make myself comfortable on the couch.”

Tentatively, Aven drew Lucian’s hand in his, giving a soft squeeze. “Are you sure?”

“Have at it. We should sleep while we can. Goodnight, Aven.”

————————————————–

When Aven awoke that morning, it felt as though he’d woken next to firestones. His entire body burned with warmth. He scrambled, pushing aside covers to look at Lucian and his gut twisted violently in his stomach. His face was pale. Clammy. Lines of black drew across his face and every breath he took rasped in his lungs.

“Lucian,” Aven said desperately, touching the boy’s chest and stirred Kendyll from her sleep.

“Is he okay?” She asked, blurring to consciousness, worry etched onto her face.

“I don’t know. Lucian?!”

Blue eyes lifted tiredly. They searched Aven’s face and a sweaty hand touched Aven’s fingers. “…here,” he murmured.

“You’ve gotten worse.”

“Yes, that’s what the poison tends to do.”

Aven grit his teeth. “Kendyll,” he said, turning. “We don’t have time for an escort. We need to leave, now, or..” he didn’t dare finish.

Kendyll understood. “I’ll prepare your horses,” she said. “You get him dressed.”

They were silent as Aven began to tend to Lucian. He brushed the knots from blonde hair. Drew his linen shirt over his thin frame. He could feel the tension oozing off of Lucian, and he glanced over to meet the Prince’s hazy eyes. ”…It’ll be okay,“ he promised as he laced up Lucian’s boots. "Regardless of what’s happened between you two in the past…. it’ll work out. Netyarch Marcello is in a terrible situation right now, and won’t have time to argue."

"Clearly you don’t know nobles,” Lucian muttered. He leaned back against the wall, white faced. “In a bad mood, they will either do whatever it takes to be brisk or deny a life saving cure simply because they’re in a foul mood. Marcello is capable of either."

"Then I’ll squeeze it out of his scrawny ass."

Lucian laughed. His laugh turned to a cough that sounded wet in his lungs. "He’s a more powerful mage than even I, Aven. He could polymorph you into an ugly little toad if he wanted.”

“I’d like to see him try."

With whatever strength he had left, Lucian scooted over to push Aven’s hair back. Docile. Weak. "My dear barbarian, axes can’t win every fight."

“No, but they can start them.”

It was worth the smile. “Let’s try to not get into a fight with Netyarch Marcello,” he said as Aven swept him up into his arms.

“Well, I suppose that just depends on Netyarch Marcello, doesn’t it? Come on… we need to get you to Halarahh, as soon as possible.”

Aven wasted no time. The moment they packed their things he was outside, carrying the Prince in his arms. The Captain implored Kendyll to stay, to allow him to escort her but she refused, stating that they wouldn’t be allowed inside the castle were she not there. They left the Captain behind, mounting their horses and taking off down the road.

Lucian’s condition grew worse the longer they rode. Aven could feel the Prince slipping from consciousness in his arms. The heat that hummed from his sick body. The slowing, rasping breaths. The delirious murmurs and, even worse, the quiet that followed.

Jorak’s hooves tore through the dirt path as Aven charged the black stallion through the Halruaan countryside. He didn’t look to see whether or not Kendyll was able to keep up with them. A day. A night. Into earlier the next day. They stopped only twice, for the horses to drink and use the bathroom before they were riding again.

Lucian had all but drifted into a near comatose state against his chest.

“Hang on,” he murmured. He tugged Lucian closer. Great bags rested under Aven’s eyes. “Just a bit longer. Kendyll! How far.” He finally glanced back.

Kendyll was right on his heels, Soleil’s lungs heaving as she struggled to keep up with the powerful stallion. “Close!” She says. “In the next few miles.”

Close.

They came over the crest of the hill, and nestled against Lake Halruaa was their destination. Halarahh. A city glittered under the sunlight, protected by a great white wall that hummed with magical energies. Beyond the wall, red and blue domed buildings towered into the sky, flanking a river that flowed right through the city and fed into the lake.

In the sky…. Aven gawked, pulling Jorak back a few steps. "What in the nine hells is that?!” He hissed out. A great ship swam, not through the lake, but through the sky. It passed over their heads, carried by the winds and magic as it sailed forth to Halruaa, the sigil of the country flowing in the breeze on its mighty silver sails. “

That,” Kendyll said. “Is a Halruaan Skyship. My country is famous for them."

"Skyships…” Aven repeated, in awe. He drank in the sight. “I’m impressed. But…. we have to go. We have to get there, now!”

“Aven.” Kendyll drew her horse close and took his wrist in hand. “We will, I promise. First, we have to get through the gates.”

They charged towards the gates. At their coming, Aven could hear voices of alarm raise along the gate. Every inch was patrolled by men with crossbows and catapults. Their mounts cantered before the gate leading into the city - which wasn’t even a gate. The road simply lead to the side of the city wall, no entrance seemingly in sight .

A voice - magically enhanced to be louder - called from the top of the wall. “Who goes there!” Kendyll pulled her horse forward. She drew back her hood, and mouse brown hair tumbled down her fair shoulders, sky blue eyes lashing up towards the guard. “Lady Kendyll Silvercrest of House Silvercrest. I have come home!"

Stunned silence followed. Then, a startled, panicked voice. "It’s her! Open the gates!"

A blinding flash of magic forced Aven’s eyes away. A gate materialized from nothing, and the great doors opened allowing them entry. They passed into the city, and Aven was almost immediately reminded of home.

Hundreds of wizard’s towers - lofty spires built of colorful coral, stone, crystal and magical force, dominated the skyline, jutting upwards from an otherwise low slung city profile. The city was an expanse of parks, rivers, pavilions and gazebos amidst wizard spires and palaces for nobles. A wild variety of tropical, fruit and flower bearing trees filled the squares and decorated the well cobbled city streets. Magic resided in every nook and cranny of the city. Men flew overhead on magical contraptions that carried them through the winds, children played with cantrip wands and talking dogs casually had a conversation.

It was immediately apparent that Halarahh did not often take in outsiders.

The moment they arrived, every eye locked onto them. In suspicion. In distaste. Halruaa was at war. They could only trust their own, and every stranger was an enemy.

“Aven,” Kendyll called, dragging his attention back. “Come… the palace is this way. It’s time to see my brother.”