Exile of Hectoris and Arythos

The morning of Nordon 2æ499 was lit in the glorious end of the crimson Flyraen. The hall of Thyradon shined upon the western pass of Yugaline. And great clouds hung against the mountains. Inamogus walked below the arches of his Great Hall. The lands outside of the windows were thoroughly seethed in scarlet. And there was not another distinguishable colour threw his eyes. Upon his stone balcony was his nephew. The strong lad leaned against the railing. Inamogus gazed through an arch to the grounds of houses from his sanctum, and he walked closer to the lad. Inamogus was pleased to see his nephew up so early, “He’d usually had gotten up later. For a change I do bid.” Inamogus said to himself.
“Morning there lad.” the King greeted “Serve you up so well this hour? Shall I finally reward you for this effort?” he said while putting his arm on the lads shoulder. Inamogus walked to the railing, out looking the land in awe.
Hectoris looked upon his uncle’s face. “Really, just for me waking up at an early hour you offer me ‘money’? Dear uncle, I do not have use for this ‘money’ as you name It.” refused Hectoris, respectfully. Inamogus looked upon his nephew in question as to why he wouldn’t take his offering. He held the sac of jewels in his hand and presented them to Hectoris. “Take them for your efforts lad. You won’t find more than shit in the gardens of Thyradon than this!” said Inamogus with growing frustration. The lad could see no grin in his uncle’s face; he took a step backwards. Inamogus proceeded forward to the lad. Hectoris nearly fell over the railing; he clenched the barrier with all his hands could bear.
Inamogus became suddenly enraged with the boy. He grabbed the lad’s wrist and anchored it to the railing, beating Hectoris repeatedly with the sac of jewels. Inamogus struck him in the face cutting his brow. He tossed the sac into the villages below and stormed from his hall. Hectoris was in shock. The overwhelming pain threw him to the ground and he wept upon the stone. Young Arythos his cousin ran to where he lay. Arythos cried his name and held him tight.
Arythos examined the gash upon his cousin’s face in disgust. “Hectoris, look at me. We are not staying here for more than a day in time.” explained Arythos. Hectoris looked upon his cousin. Tears trickled from his eyes.
“For where” asked Hectoris: “to where shall we go from our captives of Inamogus? What is there to be offered outside this place? We will starve, drown, suffer outside these walls!” he cried.
“We will exile, my cousin. We will find refuge elsewhere, as long as we’re far from this place… this horseshit hole of a hierarchy.” retorted Arythos. He looked behind his shoulder to see the hall empty. He looked in his cousins eyes. “Where we head is of our destiny. This place will not sanctum that for us my cousin, it will not. I shall not look my upon my fathers face again. I say the most for you as well.”
Hectoris wiped his eyes and brow. The blood stained his tattered white clothes. The distance of the east was all but crimson; he knew it would end soon. “Will it be?” he asked “You and I, out in that forsaken east?” Hectoris feared the east more than he feared Inamogus. The horrors he’d learnt of the east riddled him with nightmares. “We aren’t venturing furthest east you fool. Don’t fear simple land. You’re of great strength; you have yet to find it, in here.” said Arythos. He placed his hand over his cousin’s heart, staring untainted into his eyes.
The gash upon his forehead began to heal, Hectoris could feel it. The pain dissipated and the wound closed. Arythos laughed and patted his cousin’s cheek, “That’s about as much as I can do for you right now.” he said. Arythos rose and offered his hand to his cousin. Hectoris hesitated in accepting, he peered uncontrollably into the east through the gaps in the stone railing.
“What if it’s so that they see us?” Hectoris worried.
“We will not be caught. Do not worry cousin. I beg you!” insisted Arythos “We make haste now, and there is no turning back to this city.”
Hectoris scrambled to his feet “Haste… where?” he shouted. But Arythos was quick to dash around the hall corner to the stairs. Hectoris could do not but run after him. Arythos leaped down the steps, four at a time and somersaulted off of the grassy courtyard. Hectoris ran down after him into the stable where he was waiting. “Fast as a horse you bastard!” Hectoris sputtered while panting. His cousin laughed and mounted himself upon a black stallion. Arythos rode the horse out of the stable and into the court. Hectoris’ jaw dropped. “I recon you get yourself one too you dumbass.” joked Arythos. They both laughed.
Hectoris mounted upon a brown stallion and rode through the court with Arythos. The galloping echoed amidst the great castle. They rode through the open castle gate and into the western plane.
Hectoris sped up next to Arythos, “So what was it you were saying about where we’re headed?” he shouted.
“For the hill of Rowinthor!” hollered Arythos, “First we make haste to Vyrnlot in Urdan!”
The breeze of the east was welcoming. Hectoris’ tears dried from his face, and his eyes cooled in the morning air. The great scarlet rays of the sun descended down from the cloudy heavens upon the earth. And as far as the eye could see were desolate grasslands.
Hectoris turned to see his home. The captivity of his authority was broken. A sudden happiness came about him, but with that a great doubt of the future. He had no hope for survival in these lands. It was left up to Arythos to teach him the ways of a Rogue.