The Crystal of Ethereia

Chapter One
Treachery and Death

The castle grounds were quiet, as if a blanket of peace had wrapped itself around the cold stonewalls and silenced its inhabitants. Sunrise had not yet graced the lands of Xalanor, though the dozen cooks were already preparing morning breakfast for the day ahead. Besides the faint sounds of the king’s gentle snoring, not a sound could be heard by anyone in the castle. The king’s crimson robes were draped carefully over the chair beside his bed, and the similarly coloured silk sheet clung loosely to his large figure. Unrest was unheard of in the capital city of Lanzareth, and as far as its citizens were concerned, the word was one which had only one home: between the covers of Xalanor’s best fantasies.

Angriel watched as his king slept, he was slipping away and Angriel knew it. He was glad that he the king trusted him enough to tell him of his illness, but that didn’t stop him from being sad at the thought of his death. The word of the King’s illness had been kept quiet, known only by those with enough influence in the court of kings to know; even the populace of the city had no idea. Angriel sighed; he knew that soon a declaration would have to be made regarding his illness, or maybe we should just wait until he passes on, Angriel thought to himself, maybe it would be easier that way. He pulled his cloak tighter around his body as a strong draft blew through the open window. It would be nice to shutter that window for once. Angriel thought. But unfortunately it’s the only way the king can sleep, in the cool, and I must say, this chamber does get rather stuffy when there’s no breeze blowing in. Angriel got up from the oak chair and stood next to his king. He looked down into his pale face, devoid of any emotion as he slept deeply. Sleep was the only time the King wasn’t in agony, and that was only because the healers gave him something to help him conquer the pain as he drifted off to sleep. Angriel knew he wouldn’t last much longer than a week, at best 9 days. Usually, the sizable lord would be busying himself in whatever way possible, but each night since the king became ill, he had given himself time to sit down and to think, to mourn, even though the king was still alive.

Angriel’s thoughts were interrupted by the almost inaudible creak of the bedroom door, and, resisting the urge to shout, as he knew this would wake the king, Angriel stood-to, and acknowledged the entrance of a man who should not be there. Neither of them spoke, and although Angriel’s gaze was strong, the stranger’s eyes remained impenetrably innocent. “I did not expect you to be here sir, what is your business?”
“Although we have not met, I trust you know of me.” A pause followed the stranger’s sentence, so he continued. “I’ve come to increase the king’s medication…” The voice that came next was softer and more discontented. “His state appears to have worsened… I worry about our king.” A sigh escaped the healer’s lips, and it was this that gained the trust of one of the king’s most loyal companions. Even then, every movement was recorded under the watchful eye of Angriel. This did not appear to affect the actions of the healer, so Angriel let himself relax; the only time to worry was if the healer showed signs of nervousness. There was none. The healer left as quietly as he came, and Angriel finally stopped resisting sleep.
Angriel looked at his king, something was wrong, his breathing had suddenly slowed and a sweat was forming on his brow. With a gasp the king’s eyes opened, before he took one last breath and fell away into death. Angriel was shocked, what had that healer done to his king? Yelling he ran out of the Kings chambers.
         
“IT’S THE KING! KING LERON IS DEAD!”

Chapter Two
Hunters

Aranel felt the dusty floor with his fingertips, tracing the hoof print left by a stag. “You’re getting nearer old boy,” Aranel whispered to himself. Looking to the right he motioned towards Elessar, who crept towards him. “He’s not far from us now brother” Aranel whispered. “See how this track looks freshly made, he must be just past this clearing” Elessar nodded, and headed off to circle round and trap the poor doomed animal. Aranel and Elessar had been hunting together for… well as long as they could remember. Aranel crept speedily over the bush and debris left on the ground from the trees above. Knocking an arrow on his yew bow that he had had for over 6 years now, he sighted the stag. Drawing a bead he aimed toward it, but before he could let loose, another arrow flew from the opposite direction, hitting the beast in chest. The stag stumbled and fell onto his knees, and then lay down in the dust panting. He saw Elessar come rushing out to look at his handiwork. Aranel ran his hand through his shoulder length hair and slowly cursed under his breath at Elessar’s foolishness and came to stand next to him. “Always wait for a clean kill brother, don’t rush yourself” kneeling down, Aranel drew his hunting knife. With a slash he cut the throat of the stag, letting it finally die. “Come on brother, lets head home, this stag will do for a week” Smiling he slung the bow over his shoulder, picked up the hind legs of the stag, and waited for Elessar to do the same with the front legs. “Lets go gut this, then we can have a feast”

As they neared the road to their home, Aranel happened to glance down, and stopped abruptly, nearly causing Elessar to bump into him, as he wasn’t watching what he was doing. Aranel slowly knelt, and put the stag’s body down as well. He frowned. Horse tracks? He thought. Neither me nor Elessar have ridden our horses in ages, we’ve had no need to! So then, whose are these I wonder? “Elessar, it would seem we have a visitor at our door” sighing, he picked the stag up again, and they continued down their road. Visitors usually bring bad tidings when you live in an area like this one thought Aranel.

The man on the horse studied the two people walking down the track that was beaten into a path by constant use, one was tallish with dark brown hair, and what was either dirt or fairly tanned skin, the other just over average height, with what looked to be dirty blonde hair, but again a lot of that could just be dirt the man thought to himself, I must study them more as they get closer.
“Hail” yelled the stranger on the horse as the two men got within hearing range.
“Hail” they replied “and who, may we ask, are you?” asked the one with the blonde hair, he was obviously the younger of the two, with a slightly higher voice than the other one. He can’t be much past 21 summers the man idly thought. Then his gaze drew to the other as he said “I have a message to deliver from lord Angriel from the city of Lanzareth” It’s easy to tell they are brothers though he thought randomly same facial features, a slightly longer than average nose and rather small lips, still I bet the girls don’t turn them down.
“Oh aye?” replied the older brother, who had turned 25 summers last mid-summers day “First lets have your name”
“My name is not important, I be but a messenger for Lord Angriel, now tell me, which of you is Aranel and which of you is Elessar?”

         The younger of the two took a step forward, and placed his leather sandal firmly in the dirt. He brushed his shoulder hair out of his eyes and behind his ear. “You don’t appear to have noticed, but we have stag here, and if we leave it here for too long the maggots will have a field day.” His voice had a cocky tone, the same one that haunts young adults, but disappears as they age. His intent was not arrogance, but an attempt to brag about his catch.
“There are more pressing matters at hand.” The messenger’s voice became more stern and authoritative as he asked once more. “Your names, please.” With a calmer tone and a more mature attitude, Elessar’s older brother complied. “I am Aranel. My brother… is Elessar.” Just as his name was mentioned, the younger of the two ducked with haste, in order to avoid a collision with a bird that dived for the fresh meat behind him.
“I see your reflexes are up to scratch, Elessar. It is likely that you will need those, should you become more co-operative.” He waited for Elessar to stand, and continued. “The king of Xalanor has passed away,” his voice had taken a sad tone as he said this, and his breathing had gotten visibly slower. He took a deep breath before continuing, with a lump in his throat and a tear in his eye. “… And there is no one to take his position.” He cleared his throat. Not as an authoritative statement, but because what he had to say was important, and he’d have to push his sadness to the back of his mind before he could continue. “The heir to the throne was last seen heading to a place I’m sure you’ve only heard of in fairy tales.” He took another deep breath and continued with a more serious tone. “You have been elected to find him.”
“And how do you suppose we do that?” Elessar asked, with an obvious air of sarcasm.
“You’ll find out once we get to the capital.” The messenger replied with a frown. With this, Elessar took on his older brother’s serious attitude, and decided to shift the stag to the side of the path.
“When do we leave?” The older brother asked, and immediately got a response.
“As soon as you collect enough provisions for the journey to Lanzareth.” The brothers headed toward their house, and the messenger added light-heartedly “Something a little less weighty than a stag would be preferable.” The messenger let a tear stream down his face when the brothers were safely indoors, and wiped his eyes with a handkerchief as he silently tried to compose himself.

         Aranel and Elessar left their house in higher spirits. With two small bags of food strapped to their waists (amongst hunting daggers and hipflasks) they set off back through the forest, with the messenger as a companion. The woodland seemed as vibrant as it did when the brothers were enjoying a hunt; the sun shone through the gaps in the canopy of leaves above, and the trees around them protected them from any kind of wind. As they travelled deeper into the forest, the trail thinned, and eventually stopped. They had only their sense of direction to guide them, and the help of the sun, which rose in the south and sunk in the north. The trio often found their way blocked by vines, the likes of which slowed them down dramatically. There was no way they’d get to the capital before nightfall, but they could get out of the forest if they made haste. With this in mind, the hunters and the messenger increased their pace and chose a route that the two brothers had taken once or twice, when there weren’t enough animals nearer the village. They drank little and talked none, but made their way as fast as they thought they should.

         It was near dark, and still the trio continued walking. “Maybe we should stop soon,” queried an uneasy Elessar as darkness began to shroud them. This was a mistake, because as soon as the young hunter had finished his sentence, an unknown creature had thrust itself onto Elessar’s chest, who landed clumsily on the hard forest floor. As the panic-stricken hunter fought with the creature he felt the fur of its hands grasp for something near its waist, so he took no chances and threw it into the middle of the trio. With a shaky right hand, Elessar drew one of his many hunting knives, and raised himself so that it was mere inches from the creature’s chest. His older brother had done exactly the same, and the messenger had begun to draw a steel long sword from his back. The small creature appeared only to be a foot tall, with leathery skin and fur only on his hands and feet. Looking around with a sense of fear, it knew that it’d have no chance of escaping the three. Appearing as if it were about to fight, it drew its own knife created from what looked like bone. The trio drew nervously closer, making sure the creature could not attack, when it suddenly turned the blade around and pointed to its own jugular. He plunged the blade into his throat, in desperation, and curled into a ball, while blood spat out from the gaping wound. The three companions stood staring at the thing for a while after it had died, until it had finally sunk in that this thing had almost killed one of them.
“Ok, now we REALLY need to stop” Aranel decided, “lets go till we find a suitable place to stay.” His heart was still pounding from that scare with the…thing and how it had almost killed his brother. We’ll have to be more careful from now on. He thought decisively.

         Aranel squinted as the three companions broke out of the dense undergrowth into the blinding sun that had been slowly disappearing as they trudged through the forest. The trio had spent the night in a clearing that Elessar had found, and had got up at dawn to continue walking. It was now noon as the three men broke out onto open grassy plains. Below them sprawled a vast city, much vaster than any town he had ever encountered before, and there, at the far end, was the royal palace. “It’s a great sight isn’t it” said the messenger as he came to stand beside Aranel. Elessar also joined them and gasped in wonder at the sight that greeted his eyes “Aranel, we’ll never suit a city like that in clothes like these” Elessar commented, both the brothers looked down at their own clothes, which were a simple undershirt with a tunic on top, and a pair of leggings and calf high boots, all shades of the forest, dark greens and browns. “No worries” said the messenger “Lord Angriel will get you suited just as soon as we get to the palace, it shouldn’t be more than a 10 minute ride down this hill, and depending on how busier market it is today, another half an hour to walk through the city to the palace gates.”
Quickly the trio headed off, Aranel and Elessar desperate to get through and discover what the insides of a huge city like this consisted of.

         The sound of crickets slowly faded as Aranel, Elessar and the unknown messenger approached the huge walls of the city. The cornfields behind them, which once seemed full of life, now appeared to be flat and dull, as the city made a powerful impression on the awe-stricken brothers who’d not yet set foot inside of its grounds. They stopped at the city’s gates as one of the chain mail-clad guards spoke to the messenger in a cheerful tone. “Now, Alzeon, you know a couple of scruffy villagers can’t become the next kings without being next in line to the throne.”
“I can but try.” The messenger replied, before the two chortled in unison. The messenger, who the brothers had now found out was named Alzeon, seemed much more at ease now that he was back in the impressive capital. Aranel turned back to look at the great wall surrounding the city, made of a dark grey stone, it was, to Aranel anyway, immeasurably tall with guards posted on the top and at the gates, yet as there hadn’t been any unrest in a long time the guards walked almost leisurely along the battlements.

         The villagers forgot about their companion as they set eyes upon the inside of the city. Market stalls littered the border of the city for as far as the eye could see; the first stall to their left was selling luxury furs from animals of the forest, and the one beside that appeared to be selling vials of medicine. To their right stood several stalls selling overpriced weaponry. Each sold what appeared to be the same weapons, and each of these weapons sold at the same extortionate price. The second stall along was bustling with the bodies of father and son alike, all wanting to be seen buying from the most reputable and respectable blacksmith in Xalanor, even though the stall to the left and the stall to the right sold the same items at the same price. Black smoke spouted from the top of chimneys on top of the blacksmith’s stall, before thinning out in the air and disappearing completely, and the cries of all the merchants selling their wares could be heard throughout the city. Both brothers could hear and smell the butchers and the slaughterhouses further on down the street, butchering animals so the populace of the city could eat. People flitted around them out on their daily business as the brothers walked around the first few stalls on each side. The fur sellers prices were steep, yet when Aranel touched the furs, he realised that they were nice and most probably worth the money, however the trader was already deep in conversation with a bald portly man of about middle age. Aranel left him to go visit the stalls on the other side of the entrance where Elessar had gone first. Both brothers viewed the weapons, most of these they could have made themselves, terrible workmanship, however a few were high quality weapons and Aranel was impressed they hadn’t sold yet. “Oi you, you going to buy anything?” asked the burly blacksmith; arms and face dirty from working near a furnace all day. “No we’re just looking,” replied Aranel, before leaving the shop, his brother in tow. Alzeon let the two wander slightly, reminiscing on the day that he’d first set his sights upon the capital. The stone buildings stood exactly as they did then, and only the city’s inhabitants had changed. The castle dominated the skyline, and black flags were flown from each of its four towers. To Elessar and Aranel, the city didn’t seem to be mourning the loss of their king, but the city was less than half as busy as it usually was; it was quieter, it was slower, and the air smelled staler. The darkening storm clouds which had followed the three had not yet gathered above the city, but were approaching at a steady rate. “It would be best if we made haste. Look above.” Angriel commented.

         Aranel and Elessar looked skyward at the black clouds beginning to form above the capital. “Come, we have a way to walk yet, we are but in the merchants section” said Alzeon, quickly striding away from the city gates. Hurriedly Aranel and Elessar followed, not wanting to get lost in a city this big. They stayed close to Alzeon, because it would have been easy to lose him in the hustle and bustle of the bodies. The buildings in this part of the city were slightly bigger than the ones they’d seen before; and the majority of them had signs hanging from the wall, stating who owned the shop, and what type of shop it was. There were a lot of smiths, which all had plumes of smoke coming from the chimney’s on the roof. A few of the shops were tailors, with rich looking women fluttering from one tailor to another, looking for the nicest new dress. There was even one boot mending shop, which seemed to be getting an unusual amount of business. Alzeon took them half way along the busy merchants road, and then off down a side alley. “This is the way to the poor section of the city” Alzeon commented, “be careful, this part of town is full of thieves and whores, so watch your purses carefully.” Alzeon led the two hunters down into a part of town that was dank and dingy, with stuff that Aranel fervently hoped was water dripping onto his head from the eaves of the houses stacked close together, with the odd tavern and inn spaced out along the way. “Stay out of these inns and taverns if you can help it” Alzeon explained, “They are full of shady characters.” A homeless man sat next to one of the dusty alleyways they passed, wearing nothing but clothes that looked like they’d been rotting for a decade. A few small chunks of stale bread dropped from the man’s dirty grey beard as he repeated a line that had been ingrained into his head. “Spare some coppers?”

Aranel looked at the sign of one of the first taverns they passed, it was tough to read the name due to the grime plastered to it; the wood itself was rotting and the letters were peeling off. “The Sheep Guts…mmm nice name for a tavern” he said sarcastically. “Aye lad, that’s the sort of name they give all taverns in this part of the city, and don’t revert to sarcasm in my presence, it is the lowest form of wit and I will not tolerate it” said Alzeon rather huffily. “Sorry” commented Aranel, his eyes still wandering around this dank place. How can THIS be part of such a magnificent city? He wondered to himself. It just doesn’t fit with how the city looks when you first enter! Suddenly the trio broke out into a more brightly lit area, or so it seemed after the dinginess of the poor quarter, with what looked to be bigger houses, and more taverns. There were also a few more shops here, the busiest of which seemed again to be a boot mender, but for what reason Aranel couldn’t fathom; he wouldn’t need a boot mender, as he knew how to fix his own boots. Still, the amount of bodies around it held some sort of attraction, as Aranel felt compelled to find out what all the fuss was about. If he had the time, he’d probably come back later. Neither Elessar nor Aranel knew how long they’d be at the palace, though. “Now these are the taverns you want to visit” Alzeon commented, “These are more respectable taverns, if a bit steep in price, 3 coppers for a mug of ale!” Elessar’s eyes widened at this. A bit steep? He wondered. In the towns I’ve been to you could get THREE ales for 3 coppers! “But then I suppose the ale is worth it, nicest ale you’ll find in this land boys!” commented Alzeon with a chuckle. “But no time for drinking now, we have to go to the palace” Aranel looked up, “Shouldn’t be hard now we’re here, this part of the city seems to be the area closest to the castle”
“Aye that it is lad, that it is, this is where the rich merchants of the city have their houses, as its either here or actually living in the castle, and that’s only allowed for guests invited in!” Alzeon replied.
“There is always the poor quarter,” said Elessar a small smile on his lips,
“Like I said boy, don’t use sarcasm in my presence, but you’re right, there is the poor quarter, if you don’t mind being constantly harassed, and whatever money you had stolen then sure, live there, otherwise it’s best to keep clear.”

         Paying more attention to what was ahead of him than Alzeon’s advice, Elessar slowed his pace and let out a tiny gasp. There, sitting at the very top of the hill ahead, was a sight more majestic than any forest-dwelling animal. The walls of Lanzareth Castle were more impressive than that of the city’s defences, and each stone seemed handcrafted to perfection before being put in place by the most skilful builders in the land. The stone was a dark grey in colour, the same stone as was used for the city wall. “Say, Alzeon, if we can’t find the late king’s son, do you think we,” Alzeon cut in before he could finish.
“That is not an option.” Nodding, in acknowledgement to both the response and the weather, Elessar sped up towards the castle.

         As they got nearer, the gate opened and a tall big built man came busily out of the castle, cheeks red with exertion and hands waving frantically. “Come, come you must be Aranel and Elessar right? I see Alzeon has done his job, well done Alzeon, now all three of you come in, it looks like its about to rain” Quickly the man ushered the three travellers inside as the first sound of thunder rippled throughout the city. “Ahh you were just in time!” the big man exclaimed. “This way, this way” waving them forward, the man continued on into a big entrance hall. Aranel looked this man up and down, Light brown hair, growing wispy now, as he got older. He was dressed in the latest fashion, a long sleeved tunic and cape, leggings with knee high boots, however they were not in the usual fashionable colours for a man of his importance, this man was wearing all black, in mourning for his king, Aranel thought, “This way” said the man again, hurriedly leading them out of the entrance hall and down one of the many corridors, before leading the 3 companions off of the corridor into the great hall. “Wait here sirs, while I get your rooms ready for you, you’ll be staying here a couple of days before you go on your journey.” The man bustled off haughtily and Aranel and Elessar both turned to Alzeon “Who was that?” they said in unison.

         The three of them stood on the red velvet carpet, Alzeon – tiring of the familiar sight – and the two brothers, who enjoyed every moment inside the castle, however rushed. Aranel took his time to take in the immeasurable splendour about him; he enjoyed tracing the numerous tapestries with his fingers (which he’d made sure were clean before doing so) and gazing in wonder at all of the gold ornaments that littered the tables and walls. He was particularly impressed by one such golden candleholder, which sat underneath a tapestry depicting the first war of Xalanor. Elessar enjoyed his surroundings just as much, but found even more awe in the city around him. He walked over to one of the large windows, and rested his arm upon its ledge. The stone his arm was resting on was cold to the touch, yet somehow it was warm inside the castle. He sighed as he saw the beautiful city once again.

Even though the skies were dark with storm clouds and the city was dull with rain, it seemed more impressive than anything Elessar had seen previously. The market stalls were all packed up, and only people in the poor quarter could be seen in the city below, drunkenly staggering from tavern to tavern. Almost half of the forest could be seen from the castle, though it didn’t look as beautiful as it would have if Elessar were standing beneath the tall variety of trees. Elessar’s face brightened as he remembered times when it was just him and his brother, leaping through the trees after game, and then the smile left as he thought of what was to come, a long journey, most probably dangerous, and a chance of not returning. Elessar sighed and shook his head no point worrying about that now he thought. Elessar dragged his attention back to the vista of the city below. “It’s beautiful isn’t it” Alzeon commented, coming to stand next to Elessar, “It’s even prettier when there are no clouds and the sun is shining” he said sighing, “but, it won’t be a very pretty place if the prince isn’t found.” He paused for breath and a shake of his head before continuing “the city will be plunged into civil unrest, as everyone will vie to be the next king” muttering inaudibly, Alzeon turned away from the window, and Elessar followed, tearing his eyes away from the magnificent sight below him.

Aranel was sitting on a chair, legs resting on the table placed in the middle of the hall when Angriel came back in huffing and puffing. “Your rooms are ready, dinner is in two hours, and afterwards, I expect you to hang around so I can tell you all you need to know? OK?” Aranel nodded that he understood and pushed his feet away from the table, the chair sliding back with a slight screech on the polished floor. Everyone in the room winced except Elessar, who was used to Aranel doing that at home and therefore didn’t mind the noise. “Come on Aranel, let’s see our rooms.”
“A guard will direct you to your rooms” called Lord Angriel after them. The two hunters left the hall through the door the assiduous lord had entered by. Soon it was only Angriel and Alzeon left in the room. “Do you really think they can find him Angriel?” Alzeon asked, “They better” he replied with a sigh. “Or there will be trouble in the lands of Xalanor once more…”

         The rooms weren’t quite as remarkable as the corridor they’d entered from – which wasn’t nearly as splendid as the great hall – but the brothers were both amazed that they’d be sleeping in such grandeur beds. They didn’t mind sleeping in the same room – they’d had to at home, and they’d grown quite fond of it – but both felt a sense of alienation, as they’d never been in such wealthy company. In fact, they’d never slept in a proper bed before, and the fact that the covers were velvet only provided a stronger desire to jump on them and feel just how comfortable they could be. The beds Aranel and Elessar were sleeping in appeared as magnificent as they did comfortable, and there was something august in the way that the sheets were placed so obsessively that gave the room a sense of perfection.

         Crying with Joy both brothers closed the door to their chamber, and jumped on the beds. Laughing, Elessar commented, “I never want to leave here Aranel!” Aranel’s face turned sombre as he said “we’re going to have to brother, whether we want to or not, we’re going to be made to go find this prince and bring him back here…” Elessar’s face also turned sombre “but what if we don’t want to go? They can’t force us to go can they?” Aranel looked his brother in the eye, “It would seem if we don’t go, the only place we’re going is to the gibbet.” Suddenly Elessar grinned at him; “well at least we’ll have an adventure to tell to Mariea and her sons when we get back to the village!” Mariea was the only other person to live remotely near them, a two-minute walk further up the road. “Aye, that we will Elessar” Aranel said with a grin, “Now, what shall we do for two hours? It would seem the rain has stopped,” Aranel said going over to their window, “How about a stroll around the rest of the city? We must have seen only one third of a city this large!” Elessar grinned back at him, “Well what are we waiting for?” Together, the two brothers left their room, grins on their faces and a skip in their step.

         Both hunters left the castle, travelling light-heartedly down the road leading back to the city. They were happy at being able to view more of the city, and Aranel was looking forward to the prospects of browsing the many shops. “Where shall we go Aranel?” Elessar asked, looking around at the many different buildings in sight. Aranel replied, also looking around at the buildings, “First I want to go visit one of these boot makers, I want to discover how they make so much business!” he exclaimed. He still didn’t understand how they could get as much business as they seemed to be getting. Quickly both brothers headed off down the road to the boot menders they had spied as they had broken into the richer part of town earlier on. It still seemed just as busy as it had been earlier. Aranel and Elessar entered the shop, and one of the many men behind the counter came out to greet them. “Hi, would you like your boots mending? Or perhaps softening if they are annoying to your feet?” the boot mender asked nicely. “Ah, no thanks” replied Aranel. “We can fix our own boots, we were just curious as to how you get so much business, surely people know how to fix their own boots?” Aranel asked, he couldn’t begin to fathom how people could NOT know how to fix their own boots. “Ah, no.” Replied the mender, “you’re not city folk are you?” both brothers shook their heads in the negative; “it’s a bit obvious” continued the mender with a smile. “City folk don’t have the know how to fix their own boots, it’s us country folk who move to the city who know how to do it. That’s why we have so much business, that and the fact we’re the best boot menders in this entire city!” exclaimed the boot mender. Aranel couldn’t tell whether that was an exaggeration or not.

         With Aranel’s question answered, the two brothers headed east past the castle and set their eyes on a magnificent fountain, made entirely out of marble, which stood tall and towered over the dozens of peasants surrounding it. The majority of them were standing, flipping coppers into the water, which eventually found their way to the stone bottom. Some of the richer people threw in a silver or two, but not a single gold coin could be found in the steadily rippling waters. Elessar and Aranel had no idea why any of the city’s inhabitants would throw money away in such a literal sense, but they felt they’d be seen as disrespectful if they didn’t do the same.

         The younger of the two untied the knot holding his moneybag together and fished out two coppers from its depths. Handing them to his older brother so he could retie the knot, he placed the bag firmly back on his belt at his waist, and took a coin back from Aranel. The older brother flicked his coin in first, and watched as it sunk and hit the bottom. As soon as Aranel’s had hit the bottom, Elessar tossed his coin in, too. Instead of sinking, just as every other coin had before his, it floated on the surface of the water, casting a wobbly shadow on the stone beneath it. “Strange” he said, and turned around to continue his exploration of the city. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw several of the people around the fountain leaning over the edge to take a look, but his attention was attracted ahead of him, where a dozen or more young adults stood with their mouths wide open. I know it’s strange, but it’s not that strange.

         He left the fountain with his brother following closely behind. They continued eastward, and eventually found a pen where four piglets were sleeping. Aranel thought it unusual for country animals to be in a city of this size, but nothing in the city was as he had expected. A gruff voice disturbed his thoughts, and he turned around to face a large man who’d cut between the two brothers. “If ye want some pork, ye can ‘ave chops, steak or bacon, but ye aint havin’ my pigs, understood?” The large, scruffy-haired man returned to the building, which he’d come from before either of the brothers could respond.
“He was a happy fellow, wasn’t he?” Aranel exclaimed.
“Don’t let Alzeon hear you say that!” The two laughed at Elessar’s joke, and took a gander round the rest of the city.

         The next place they paid any real attention to was a tavern, further south of the slaughterhouse. The rather exquisite sign above its door read ‘The King’s Armoury’; it sounded respectable, and it sure looked it, so the brothers went inside. The inside of the building had a warm, inviting feel, like many of the farmhouses west of the city. It was fairly quiet for a tavern of its size, but the obvious background drunkenness was enough to keep it from silence. They walked across a brown patterned carpet and up two wooden steps to the bar, where one of the barmaids shouted “I’ll be with ye in a minute, love.” She sounded as if she’d been born a country girl, and looked much the same; her oak-brown hair was tied back in a bun, and her slender figure was concealed by a loose white blouse.
“Two ales, please.” Aranel said, before she could ask them what they wanted.
“That’ll be six coppers, but ‘cause ye so good lookin’,” she paused and looked at Elessar. “I’ll knock one off for ye.” She winked (which caused the two brothers to blush) and picked up two glasses from beneath the bar, filling them to the brim with “the finest ale this side of the castle.” Aranel handed over the five coppers, brushing his hair back as he did so, while Elessar took the glasses to a table they could clearly see the bar from. He wouldn’t admit it to his brother, but he found the barmaid rather attractive.

         Neither brother had had much experience with women; the only woman either of them had ever gotten intimate with was Mariea, and that wasn’t through any emotional attraction, just simple need and slight physical attraction. However, Elessar thought that, had he more time, he would have tried to get closer to this barmaid. Oh well, he thought to himself glumly, maybe I can look her up another time.
Both brothers sat down with a clink, as the coins left in both their money purses hit each other. “Cheers” they said in unison, before taking a sip of the ale. Aranel’s eyes widened in surprise. They’re not kidding. It really IS the best Ale around! He downed the rest of his ale, and sat back to take in his surroundings.

A few paintings littered the wooden walls, which were also kept remarkably clean, there weren’t even blood stains from tavern brawls like in the odd tavern he’d visited before. The tables and chairs were made of a polished wood, obviously of quite good quality, most littered with half full or empty ale mugs. Aranel cast his eye over the other patrons of this tavern; there were a couple playing dice over in the corner, debating quietly over some issue of payment or something similar. Three other men were talking quite loudly in the centre of the room, and by their garb, they were obviously soldiers. The rest of the patrons were scattered around the tavern either sitting quietly or passed out on the table.

         “Come on Elessar” decided Aranel, “It’s time we left if we’re going to get back to the castle in time to change and make it in time for dinner.” He stood up quickly, pushing the chair away from the table as he did so. Elessar followed his lead, and with a nod (and a wink from Elessar) at the barmaid, the two brothers left the ‘The King’s Armoury’ and headed back towards the castle. As they passed the fountain, they noticed a rather large amount of people crowded around one section of the fountain. Noticing this, Elessar nodded towards Aranel, and the brothers went to discover what it was that was causing such a commotion. As they got nearer to the fountain, the brothers discovered that there, on the surface of the water was the coin Elessar had earlier tossed into the water. With a shrug the brothers left the fountain and headed back towards the castle.

“Why do you think that coin was such a fascination?” asked Elessar to his older brother. “Who knows,” Replied Aranel, “However a floating coin is a bit uncommon isn’t it!” he said, a smile on his lips. “Come on, back past the slaughterhouse. Then we will be back at the castle”

         A short walk later saw the two brothers back at the castle. They felt refreshed after their ale, and couldn’t wait for dinner; they knew in a place like this it would be a feast, with every type of food they could imagine. Emotions flooded through Aranel as he thought about what was happening to him, he felt joy at this wondrous city and the chance to be able to dine in the royal castle; he felt worry at the journey ahead, worry not for himself but for Elessar, who hadn’t had much of a life to lead. Elessar however was just at this moment focusing on the joy of this city, but more precisely the joy he had felt when he first saw that barmaid. And I never even got her name. He thought, Shame…I’ll have to go back and visit her again soon… maybe tomorrow I could steal some time off to go visit her. With a smile he followed his brother back through the castle gates, into the entrance hall.

         Angriel rushed into the room not ten seconds later, “Ah I’ve been looking for you!” he exclaimed, “Where did you get too?” he asked earnestly.
“We went for a walk” said Aranel, “yes,” replied Elessar, “we wanted to see the rest of this beautiful city!”
“Ah yes…it is that isn’t it” sighed Angriel, “come, we must get you out of those rags and into some proper clothes.” Both Aranel and Elessar looked down at the clothes that they wore every day, and then looked at each other, they didn’t think of these clothes as rags, they enjoyed wearing them, and they were comfortable.

         Half an hour later, Aranel and Elessar were standing in their rooms, shuffling about nervously in their new clothes. The clothes were uncomfortably tight, and they were unusually bright colours, especially with the event that just passed. Aranel’s tunic and leggings were bright yellow, with dark brown boots, and Elessar’s tunic and leggings were a rich red in colour, with black boots. Elessar grimaced; he would never normally wear clothes like this, and he’d be glad to get his own ones back. Nervously, they waited for the call to dinner.

         There were two knocks on their bedroom door, before Alzeon walked in wearing similarly coloured attire. His velvet leggings were of a leathery brown colour, and his tunic was the same yellow as Aranel’s clothing. “Angriel will explain the situation over dinner; what’s been done, what’s left to do, and what you’re going to be doing. He’ll also decide whether anyone else will go with you on your journey.” He paused for a while, to give the brothers a chance to ask questions, then continued. “You don’t know the land very well, I’m afraid. If you were to stumble across an area much worse than Lanzareth’s poor section, there would be no guarantee of your safety.”
“Who would come with us?” questioned the brightly dressed Elessar, expecting to be accompanied by another seemingly random person they had no knowledge of. Alzeon paused before he answered, unsure of how the brothers would respond.

“I have offered to travel with you.”

A large oak table was positioned to the centre of the dining hall, surrounded by a large amount of patterned chairs. Four of them had silk draped over the back, so the brothers assumed that that was where they were sitting. The tablecloth appeared to be a much larger version of the silk drapes, though it was obvious it had been used slightly more often; there were no stains, but the crimson was not as vivid as that of the silk on the chairs.
         At home, Aranel and Elessar would have been preparing a stag for their dinner. The only variety they could afford was some extra herbs and farm-grown vegetables, so the huge selection of food upon the table left them pleasantly surprised. While they both expected a feast of sorts, neither of the two imagined something as lavish as the meal that was set out upon the table. Meats alone, they could have chosen from chicken, pork, lamb, beef, and even various types of fish, including the delicate rainbow trout, and the king’s favourite – salmon.

The brother’s eyes widened as they thought about what food they would eat. Aranel would try the rainbow trout, having not had much fish before, yet Elessar would stick to what he knew well and just have lavish helpings of both pork and lamb. “Come come, sit down,” said Lord Angriel, who was attired similarly to all three other guests, yet his clothing seemed to shimmer slightly as Lord Angriel moved. His leggings were a sky blue, with a tunic of the same colour. Ahh! Thought Aranel its because his clothing is made of silk, that’s why it shimmers like it does. All three of the other guests quickly sat down, Aranel and Elessar on one side of the table, facing Lord Angriel and Alzeon. The chairs were a lot more comfortable then the chairs they had at home, mostly because of the red velvet cushions placed on the hard wood seat before each meal.

         Helping generous portions of the rainbow trout onto his plate, Aranel sat back to eat, and study his surroundings more closely. This particular room had a high ceiling, an arched window sat right at the top of the wall, facing (Aranel supposed) out onto a different view of another part of the city. Placing a portion of the fish into his mouth, he bit into it, and discovered richness in flavour. His eyes widened in surprise at the almost amorous taste of this fish, before he choked violently for seemingly no reason. Elessar lent over and patted him on the back. “Fish have bones, brother.”

         Aranel and Elessar both ate all the food they could get to, until Angriel snapped his fingers, which was obviously the command to clear the table, because that is what the servants did. Both brothers were slightly disappointed at the fact that they couldn’t eat any more of the delicious food, yet both knew, in the back of their minds, that they had eaten enough, in fact, they’d eaten more than they probably would normally eat in a whole day. They heard a sigh from the other side of the table, and looked at Angriel, who had one hand covering his face, the other formed a fist, that he banged upon the table.