[Scene Loading…]
[Location: Godfrey Estate - Godfrey Palace]
[Date: July 15, y. 485 of the Fourth Age]
Zeke run through the stairwells and halls of the estate, down past dusty paintings and walls that were overgrown with vines.
When he raced out into the main entry hall, he found his father, Agrian Godfrey, standing tall. The old man was huge, and had a white beard that puffed out and fell down to the middle of his chest. He was a scholar, though he was built like a warrior. Guards clustered around him, and Zeke came running up to him.
"Stay back," Agrian's voice was tense, his eyes fixed on the main doors. He turned and recognized Zeke, his expression grave. "Something's happened to the expedition."
"Artax?" Zeke asked, his chest tightening.
"They've returned two weeks early," his father replied, the worry in his voice unmistakable. "The scouts report they're carrying wounded. You don't need to see this."
"Let him stay my lord." Sampson walked into the room, folding his hands behind his back. "He should be here."
Agrian nodded, his focus returning to the doors. "Prepare yourself."
Zeke stepped back, standing beside his father as the massive oak doors swung open. An exhausted war party staggered in, their armor scorched and crusted with frost. Six knights carried a stretcher between them, moving with the careful precision of men bearing something precious and fragile.
They lowered the stretcher to the floor before Agrian. The House patriarch rushed forward with an anguished cry that sent ice through Zeke's veins.
"My boy!"
Lying there, his face pale as midwinter snow, was Artax. His legendary armor, a pride of House Godfrey , was shattered across the chest, the metal warped as though crushed by an immense force.
His eyes were slightly open, unfocused, and his skin had a bluish tint that Zeke had only seen on corpses.
Agrian took Artax's hand and recoiled. "He's cold."
"We encountered something on the pass to Cilia," said a knight, stepping forward. Zeke recognized Constantine, his brother's second-in-command. The man's face was haggard, with a fresh scar running from temple to jaw. "Something I thought existed only in old stories."
"Speak plainly," Agrian demanded.
Constantine swallowed hard. "A dragon, my lord. Not a lesser drake or wyvern that rangers occasionally hunt in the borderlands. A true dragon, an ancient ice wyrm from the Northern Wastes. The kind not seen in three centuries."
A murmur of disbelief rippled through the guards. Even Agrian's face showed shock.
"We need to get him to the infirmary," Agrian cut him off. "Now!"
They quickly rose and rushed him off, and Agrian stood up and put his head in his hands. He groaned and slowly leaned against a wall, the weight of what was happening clearly visible in his posture.
He glanced at Zeke, his eyes with a deep, terrible worry, before he turned to follow Artax's party.
The story has been illicitly taken; should you find it on Amazon, report the infringement.
The rest of that night was spent in silent vigil. Zeke waited outside the infirmary as healing mages worked to save his brother.
Agrian paced the halls, entering and leaving the room, dispatching messengers to the capital. Half a dozen messengers arrived at the castle throughout the night, bringing scrolls that made his father's expression grow increasingly grim.
At some point, the butler appeared.
"Here," Sampson pressed a small vial into Agrian's hand. "For your nerves, my lord."
Agrian downed the contents without question, and Zeke caught Sampson's subtle wink as he slipped past them into the infirmary.
Zeke remained outside of it all, until, finally, as morning came, a nurse emerged from the infirmary.
“He’s awake.” She announced. “He’s very weak, but he’s awake.” She
glanced at Zeke, who suddenly felt a great weight upon him. “If you have
anything to say to him, you should say it now, before he falls asleep again.”
“My father will want to speak to him, first.” Zeke answered, his
mouth dry.
“The Lord of the Castle is asleep.” Sampson spoke up. He had been
standing nearby, and shrugged. “And I don’t think he’ll wake for some time.
That’s what comes from being so worried that you forget to have your butler
take a sip of your wine before you do. Terribly easy way to ingest sleeping
powder.”
Zeke almost laughed, and he nodded in thanks to the butler and
quickly slipped into the infirmary.
There, a few long rows of beds stood at the
ready, most of which were empty. A few servants had stabbed themselves with
pitchforks and that sort of thing, and at the far end, a section had been
curtained off. Zeke quickly rushed forward and pushed aside the curtains, and
there, he found Artax lying there, a weak smile upon his face.
“Artax!”
“Zeke!” Artax smiled and wearily lifted a hand. Zeke clasped his
brother’s hand, and Artax squeezed it weakly before letting it drop again.
“Having fun at the castle?”
“Not as much as you’ve been having on the road.” Zeke sighed.
“What happened to you?”
"Lost a fight." Artax shrugged. He glanced at the nurse, who
bowed her head and slipped out. The curtain was closed, and he opened his mouth
again.
“Wait.” Zeke held up a finger, then turned. “Sampson?”
“Yes?” Sampson poked his head through the curtain.
“Give us a moment."
Sampson bowed his head and withdrew, and Zeke turned eagerly back
to Artax. His brother’s eyes closed slightly, but he forced them open again.
“Big fight. I ran into, ” Artax coughed, then leaned forward as best he
could. “Socrax, Ice Dragon of the North.”
“What?” Zeke’s jaw dropped.
“I’ll admit, I never thought I'd run into a dragon, much less get to fight one.” Artax’s jaw shifted back and forth. “It
was real, though. Just about killed us all.”
“But you injured it right?” Zeke demanded. “That’s what that one
soldier said.”
“Constantine. That his name, and I might have been able to kill the thing if it was me, alone.” Artax sighed. “But I
needed to save my men, so I did. I fear I've doomed us all and our house."
“Why would it?” Zeke asked. “I mean, It’s not like you died, or
anything. You’re still alive, and I’m still alive. Now, we can both marry, and
the estate can grow, and-”
“That’s not how it’s going to work.” Artax closed his eyes. “It
would take too long to explain, Zeke. You’ve never been involved in the day to
day.. You haven’t seen Leoncrest, you haven’t been to the
Senate. It’s a horrid world out there, and it’s just getting worse.” He paused,
then looked up at Zeke. There seemed to be something flickering behind Artax’s
eyes, but whatever it was, his older brother suppressed it. “Our house may very
well fall with us.”
“Still.” Zeke shrugged. “Better to have saved those people, and
not sacrificed your men.”
“I think so, too.” Artax groaned and closed his eyes. “I'm tired.”
A moment later, he was asleep, and Zeke sighed and slowly walked
out of the curtained area. One of the nurses swept past him, and he reached out
and flagged her down.
"Will he be ok?" Zeke asked.
The woman looked up, her eyes ancient despite her youthful appearance.
"His body will mend," she said carefully. "But what made your brother special, his extraordinary aura, that is gone. Shattered."
"And without it?"
"Without it, he is merely a man," she said. "A brave one, certainly, but no longer the champion of the Kingdom, much less the house."
Zeke nodded slowly.
Everything was about to change, for his brother, for House Godfrey, and for the kingdom itself.
And perhaps, for him as well.
"Thank you," he said quietly. "Please, let him rest."
Suddenly his concerns about missed moments with a pearl and a lake seemed much smaller.
The second son might be needed after all.
[Scene Close]
[Active Quests:]
[What Kills the Cat - Check out the disturbance]
[Shattered Champion - Discover what Artax meant about the house falling]
