I- Things to Come

I

Things To Come

Azerus Malykin sat in the throne of his father, which has been passed down through the many generations of the Malykin family since the Breaking of the Void. Each descendent of the great family was considered to hold the same status as the great creator, Maya. And so long as one of the sons of the great family tree remain in their family’s seat, they rule the great Griffin Empire from the Elypsen Ocean in the West, to the Misty Mountains in the East.

The sun’s rays flowed upon Azerus through the glass skylight of the Griffin Throne room. Bent over like a philosopher in thought, his silver and gold breastplate made of shimmering steal lay partially hidden beneath his white cloak. He stared at the reflection of the banner hanging above his thrown bearing a proud golden griffin. It’s eagle head pointed up in a roar, while its feathery wings remained tucked into the flanks of its lion body. How much blood was spilt because of you? My father used you well for his own purposes, but I vow to fall in battle if I ever have to take you into the field.

Azerus’ father, Lord Balthomeire Malykin rode frequently into battle holding the Golden Griffin banner high above his army. Like his father before him and his father before that, no battle was ever lost by the Griffin armies who flew the Griffin banner. Even when Balthomeire led his army against the invading armies from across the ocean, and nearly one hundred soldiers on horseback outnumbered him to his one, the banner has always returned to its rightful place by its Lord. I am not my father. This is a new age of freedom and peace, Azerus thought.

Being deep in thought, he had nearly forgotten the man who barged into his throne room. He was a Captain of the Griffin army dressed in similar silver and gold armour as Azerus, but carried no sword and wore no cloak. Within the presence of the Lord Malykin, no one was to have access to a weapon. For respect, not safety’s sake. Cradled in the Captain’s arm was a silver helmet that was embroidered with gold flowers found in the Griffin Empire, which was the only symbol of the man‘s rank. Azerus trained this knight himself when his father before him was still Lord of the Empire, and it showed, when it took four of the palace guards to wrestle him to the ground after barging into the room without removing his short sword.

With a wave of his hand, the palace soldiers dressed in their baggy silk uniforms released the Captain from their grips. He knelt on one leg, with his head bowed, beneath the Emperor’s gaze on the red velvet carpet leading to his throne. The man was Captain Alder Byndols from the third brigade of the Griffin Army. Under the rule of Balthomeire Malykin, he led many successful advances against enemy armies, but under the diplomatic rule of Azerus, he has become little more than a teacher of basic battle skills. Grey highlights began to flow through his short black hair, and wrinkles began to form around his bright sunken eyes. With age, the scars left by enemy soldiers still plagued his face, but he wore the scar across his right eye as a badge of honour, respect, and duty.

Although he was glad to see Alder, he knew something must not be right for one of his best captains to enter his presence the way he just had. Just remain calm and don’t let him anger you. I am not my father. Azerus sat tall in his throne and began to finger the hilt of his father’s sword that always leaned against his throne or hung across his back.

The sword was thought to have been forged by the shadow demons before the Breaking of the Void took place; a that tale is but one of many that mothers tell to their children. There are only a few foolish man who still believe it was forged in this remarkable manner, but regardless, the sword has always stood hand in hand with the throne of the true king of the Griffin Empire. The sword itself was made of an unknown crystal, which was clear as ice to the naked eye, but sharper than the sharpest jaguar claw. The six-foot blade length of the sword made any man with skill enough to use it seems enormous and virtually invincible. Few men had greater skill with it than Azerus Malykin.

“Rise Captain and speak openly about why you have barged into my throne room.” His voice resonated throughout the great hall. “Speak openly, but carefully.” There are only a handful of men that could fight off my palace guards. I’ve trained him well.

The knight rose to his feet and stared straight ahead, as is expected of one of the soldiers of the Griffin Army. His body was perfectly erect, and stabbing fear coursed through his body. May the Great Creator Maya protect me for the news I bring to my Lord. “My Lord, the rebels have escaped!” Protect me Maya.

Alder watched as Lord Malykin’s hand tightened on the hilt of his crystal sword. For a moment, the sword seemed to flicker a crimson colour. He moved his eyes to the floor to avoid the icy stare of his Lord. “There was an explosion my Lord. We expect one of them had skills of an alchemist, but we are still unsure.” Alder explained. “Our archers got two though,” He justified himself. “Before they approached the wall. The bigger one with the axe, and another that was weapon less.” He closed his eyes to avoid what was surely to follow. “The other three got away.”

Alder opened his eyes to the sound of deep breathing, and found his head to be still on his shoulders. Lord Malykin’s sword rested against his jugular that caused droplets of blood to bead down his neck. It is a rare occasion that his master’s sword was unsheathed and the one standing opposite of himself was left alive. “Your wife’s name is Sara is it not Captain? And you have a daughter as well as I recall.” His chest was heaving as his anger poured out from his body, but his sword remained still. Sweat beaded across his brow. My father would already be wiping his sword off on your dead corpse.

“You will go home to your wife and child and show them the cut on your neck. You will tell them that your master and lord has chosen to save your worthless soul so that you can go out and capture the prisoners that you have allowed to walk from my deepest dungeons. For if all three are not in chains and shackles within a fortnight, your wife and child’s heads will be on pikes overlooking the kingdom for all time, while you live on working tirelessly underneath their eternal gaze.” Captain Alder Byndols’ body remained motionless, not the mere quiver in his muscles, but his will and hopes for living has been destroyed. Alder could see the images of their severed heads atop the pikes, and felt the gently kiss of his wife and warm hug of his daughter Alice. Without no Lilanda and Alice, I will surely die the worst death imaginable. Do what you will to me, but they are just innocents. His soul now lay with them.

Azerus laid the great sword against his shoulder, turned his back to the knight, and returned to his seat of absolute power. The great Malykin family sword rested against his shoulder and lap. Sun reflected off the blade and blinded the motionless knight before him. “You will leave me now old friend. Take a party of soldiers with you, and whatever rations you require to recapture the three men.”

Alder bowed deeply to his master, took three steps backwards, and walked towards to great doors that he had rushed through to nearly meet his own death. One of the palace guards smiled towards one of the other guards, but was caught by a deathly glare by Alder, and returned his gaze forward.

“One fortnight Captain!” Azerus’ voice echoed through Alders mind. He paused at its sound, and then continued to leave the Great Throne Room. Lord save me and my family.

Abandoned in his throne room, the Great Azerus Malykin was free fell through his thoughts. He wore a deeply disturbed face that mirrored his mind. The five captives were caught only two days ago, yet somehow, they managed to escape from his darkest dungeons. Very rarely do men as these actually obtain or steal their entrance to his castle, but none have ever escaped and live to tell the tale. Damn those heretics! They will stop at nothing to destroy my empire. I’ve given them everything they could ever want. But maybe that’s why they rebel. They know my father would have them killed on spot for such treason, while I am not my father. They also claimed all five of the rebels where men, but I was positive one was a female. She posed as a man quite well, with short cut hair, white tunic, and blue breaches, but the sword she wore seemed strange resting her side. Out of place and almost, ornamental . . ..

A gentle brushing of the tapestry behind the throne brought his mind back to the throne room. Azerus’ gaze turned upwards through the skylight into the heavens. The afternoon sun had jumped positions in the sky while Azerus had fallen into his own thoughts. The Cyneric sky developed into brilliant purple and pink hues as the sun beamed through the atmosphere to overshadow the Griffin Empire. The people of the empire will be given the chance to rejoice after more than one hundred years of battle and strife under the dictatorship of my father and grandfathers before me, Azerus thought to himself. The Spring Festival will take place in three days and will continue annually until the monarchy changes again. The people of the kingdom will soon celebrate with music, dancing, ale, and Gleemen tales. This is truly a great time.

“So what thoughts flow through your mind, my counsellor?” He paid no heed to the man sulking behind his throne as he slid his sword back into its leather scabbard.

The Court Counsellor was draped in his dark cloak, which hid his face behind the shadows of its hood. If it weren’t for his hands always being clasped together at chest height, or the yellow serpent eyes that glowed through the darkness, one would think they were being stocked by a shade or even a lemure. As he slid out from behind the banner, Azerus caught the fait smell of heavy dust drift from the man’s clothes. The man approached Azerus in small strides to show that his presence was important enough to waist his Lord’s precious time. Drynden Bysigian, the Chief Counsellor of the Court, gently bowed when he reached his Lord. “I think many things my Lord.” Drynden pronounced each vowel and consonant to their fullest.

“Yes, I believe sometimes you think too much.” Azerus studied the bent over figure of his counsellor. “Remind me now how long you have served your Lord.” The smell of dust was nearly over powering. For days on end, Azerus has found his Counsellor studying behind walls of codices and scrolls within the Royal Records. What do you find within those records I wonder?

The bright light streaming though the skylight showed Drynden‘s pail complexion and pointy nose. He wore true Deorian features that were rarely seen on this side of the Elypsen Ocean. He turned away from the bright sunlight and was again hidden. “I have served you now for three winters, my Lord, and before that, I served your father, Lord Balthomeire Malykin for nearly twenty and three.” Drynden bowed modestly as he proclaimed his credentials.

“So what have you come to counsel me of today that made you believe hiding behind the throne tapestry would solve? Something of great secrecy I would suppose?” His eyes pierced through the shadows covering the counsellor’s face. “I haven’t seen you set out from under the candle lit records hall in quite some time now.”

“I merely wished to view the workings of our great diplomatic monarch without disturbing those within our great court.” He bowed again as he approached the throne. “But I do wish you would show a little less mercy than you do my Lord. Your father ruled for more years than any father before him, and he didn’t achieve such a task by allowing such failures to be dealt with mercy. As I recall, your father always said, “ He coughed the clear his throat. “A wild stallion that is caught cannot be trained with kindness and love unless one wishes to be trampled to death. One such wild beast must be broken with whips and chains, and only when it learns fear, will it serve the better good.”

“So you counsel me this day to murder an innocent man and his family to gain their allegiances.” He stared at his counsellor for a moment and then continued. “Such a thing would make them fear me, this is true, but it will also create a thing that would destroy me. This is something my father never came to understand, and paid for it with his life.” And most of the land rejoiced beneath their masks of mourning. “A creature that has lost all will to live is the most dangerous and unpredictable foe one can battle. At the master’s weakest moment, the creature that has lost all will will pounce in desperation to see itself free again. A wild stallion that is not broken is predictable, while a broken stallion may lay dormant for many years and then spring up when it is best to its advantage. When a stallion learns of the love and trust you have for it, an eternal bond is formed between the two creatures for all time. Such a horse will blindly follow you to the ends of the earth.”

The dark figure that stood next to the throne nodded gently beneath its hood. “I am quite sorry my Lord for letting my mouth speak faster than my mind. I have served your father for such a long time that I often forget you are not the same man. But I am just doing my job after all.” Each syllable was pronounced with perfect hypnotic clarity and rhythm.

Azerus pulled himself to his feet and swung the crystal sword over his right shoulder. The sword hung across the middle of his back and was tied in place with leather straps with edges traced with gold lettering and flowers that matched its scabbard. The sword sat a foot above his shoulder and hung a few inches from the ground. Azerus’ strong back and broad shoulders easily held the heavy burden of the sword. “So tell me Drynden, how are the plans for the Spring Festival running? Smoothly I’m assuming.” He turned to face his counsellor. “After having my morning meal, I watched from the North East tower to see a crowd of children following a merchant pulling a wagon of fireworks.”

“Yes sire, the merchants have been arriving now for two or more days with wagons full of food and ale. We have recorded three wagons of travelling performers with various animals from around the world that claim to train ferocious animals to do various amusing tricks. I’m sure the people have seen nothing like it since the day of your coronation my Lord, which of course was restricted to only Nobles and other high class families.”

“Brilliant.” Azerus smiled as he walked past Drynden to the tapestry hanging behind his throne. “This is just what my people deserve after so many long centuries of war and famine. Joy and happiness at last.” Lord Malykin laughed and patted Drynden on the back. “And Three years with no war. There is little more that a King could possibly ask for.” Love and trust does go a long way father.

“It brings joy to me to see my Lord in such a new light. Perhaps, if you will allow me to suggest it,” He paused for a moment for approval. “Perhaps it is time for the Lord of the Great Griffin Empire to choose himself a bride. One whom the common folk can call Queen and worship as a goddess.” Dryden suggested.

Malykin stopped in front of the tapestry behind his throne and laughed. “How many times must I tell you my counsellor? I’m already married to the greatest wife a King could ever ask for.” He traced the wings of the gold griffin with his fingers. “Too the people and the kingdom. That is my Queen.” He pulled the tapestry aside to reveal a hidden passage that only a few members of the court knew of. The passage was created when the castle was first built for the use of the Royal family in times of crisis. In recent years, it has been used as access to a private set of rooms used by the king for private meetings. Only the Lord of the Realm, Chief Counsellor, and members of the Royal family have access to such hidden rooms.

Reaching beneath his breastplate, Azerus pulled out a silver key. The handle of the key was a golden eagle head. The elaborate design of the key, from the detail carvings of individual feathers to its toothless open beak, brought the key to life. The silver shaft was covered in flowers circling embossed beasts and knights that, if understood, would tell the tale of the creation of Maya and the Griffin Empire. The teeth of the key grew out of the key’s shaft in the form of the two wings of the Great Griffin. Azerus slid the key into the keyhole, and the handleless marble door silently slid open. With a quick gesture to Drynden, he walked into the torch lit corridor followed by his Chief Counsellor.

The Lord and his follower walked through the windowless corridor. The winding corridor was quite long and led to many hidden rooms. Azerus had been here many times, and often used these rooms to study old codices, quite the same as what Drynden dedicated his life for, or just to be alone with his thoughts. The corridors were made of solid stone, but held no resemblance anything man made. It appeared that these halls were weathered away naturally through the course of time. To feel them with your hand, something that Azerus often did, would make you believe you were feeling glass. Azerus admired the fine craftsmanship as he walked past numerous doors in the torchlight. It never came to his mind before this that the torches were always lit. Some sort of spell perhaps? Rumours of legends now forgot recall of a time where men and women had powers or magik to do unnatural things.

At the end of the corridor, sat a spiral staircase that led up to the Lords Chamber. Over the centuries, the Lords of the Griffin Empire have used it for anything from a command post for war to a secret sleeping area. Although the bed was removed a long time ago, there are a few records to suggest the many possible usages to the hidden room of the King. Azerus now used this room as a study for himself, and if need be, a secret meeting room for him and whomever else he wishes. Like the entrance to the corridors, this room too was closed with a marble door that required the griffin key that only Azerus possessed. The other keys to the secret corridors allowed the person entrance everywhere within, except for the Lords Chamber.

Azerus opened the locked door, and was followed into the chamber by Drynden. The inside of the room was unnaturally bare for a room called the Lords Chamber. Inside the room sat an oak bookcase that was half filled of leather bound books, a heavy oak table, which weighed enough that led Azerus to believe that the castle was built around it, and a single leather chair. Scattered across the table where maps, various magistrate papers, a thick leather bound book filled with messy handwriting, and other trinkets of little value. Azerus quickly closed the book Drynden started to eye, took off his sword and leaned it against the bookcase, and sat down in the leather chair.

Drynden waited as Azerus nervously scrambled the loose pages together. The papers had all previously been seen by the Chief Counsellor as they where new bills being passed within the kingdom that only needed the Kings Royal Insignia to make legitimate. While gathering the final papers and placing them with the rest in a neat pile, Azerus looked into the darkness covering his counsellor’s eyes and asked, “Do you know why I asked you here today?”

“The prophecy.” Drynden answered. A single word that could easily send a man to the gallows.

Azerus cringed at the word the moment Drynden said it, and then shifted his chair closer to the table and began to speak in whispers. “Is it something one should fear?” His fingers began to drum on the solid wood table.

“Yes.” Drynden answered without hesitation.

“You answer quickly.” Azerus condemned.

“That’s because the answer is simple.” The sound of a bullfrog erupted as he cleared his throat. “If the woman spoke true, then the outcome is already predetermined, but if she spoke false, then it will eat at your soul until you become made trying to fix a problem that does not exist.” the counsellor explained. “Either way my Lord, the woman in question is now dead. You saw to her death personally, so I would just try to get the thought out of your head. It is best not to think of such things.” Drynden massaged his hands together in front of his chest.

“Well if she did speak the truth, as you said, than two of the five are already dead and sitting on a pike. But still, the woman’s voice troubled me terribly. I’ve never heard a voice so high and shrill one moment, and then soft and beautiful the next. And her eyes, those damn awful eyes. I’ve only ever heard of such from old nursery tales that are meant to scare children from disobeying their parents.” Azerus head sunk into his hands from exhaustion. “But like you said, it is a good thing I took care of her myself. Even though I would love to ask her more questions.”

With a quick shake of his head Azerus pulled himself up out of his hands. “Well Drynden, I think that’s all I need from you today. I have to get this work finished before the festival, otherwise it’ll never get finished.” He pulled the stack of papers in front of him and started to sort them out across the table.

“Yes, yes my lord. But also remember before the celebrations, that you have a meeting to attend with the respected nobles from across the Empire tomorrow eve. There have been great debates among them in the past few months, and it would be best if you are able to put and end to it then for good.” He stared at himself through the reflection in his Lord’s deep green eyes. “But now I’ll leave you to your work. I shall see you tomorrow if you need me no further this day.” He bowed deeply, took three steps backwards, turned and he was gone. As the dark figure blended with the shadows, Azerus watched the gleam of Drynden’s yellow serpent eyes glance back while descending the spiral staircase.