The king stirred in his chair, 'What else am I to do? This is a failure of your sworn duties as a knight, and therefore you simply must be punished. I cannot be seen to have laws for some and differing laws for others. Therefore, failure to heed such a warning carries serious consequences. You knew this the day you were knighted.”
Derian glowed with delight, a conniving smile dancing its way from ear to ear.
This was his plan for me all along? thought Vartan. Then I truly have nothing to lose. I must try to warn the king, no matter what the consequences are.
“Your Highness, I received no such warning from Prince Derian. Surely with your wisdom well beyond your years, you can see clearly when you are being fooled. Can’t you see that the prince longs to sit in your place as King of Greenhaven?”
Vartan shifted his gaze to Derian and pointed in his direction, his face turning grim as he growled the words of his accusation. “King Arman — Your Grace. It pains me to be the one to tell you that your own flesh and blood is the traitor, and that the gutless coward sits right beside you. His lies taint this very room, and poison your royal blood with his corruption and betrayal!'
Vartan smashed his fist into the ground in anger, the force of the blow sending shudders through the walls of the room. “Will it take the death of our beloved princess to make you see that Derian wants you dead?”
The prince’s calm smile turned instantly to a vicious scowl as he exploded from his seat. His voice broke and his body shook as he screamed, “These are all lies! How dare you accuse me without a shred of proof of this supposed treachery?”
He turned to the king. “Father, I demand that Sir Vartan be reprimanded immediately! I would never harm you, and if granted permission, I would kill Vartan myself for simply uttering these words.”
Arman gestured gently with his hand for Derian to sit back down before returning his gaze to Vartan. “I am afraid you have left me no other choice, Sir Vartan. However, your service to my throne is well-recognised by us all, and as such I will show you an appropriate amount of leniency. Guards, seize him. You are hereby banished from the city of Greenhaven, and are never to return. If you choose to ignore my order, you will face the executioner. May peace be with you always.”
Two towering guards approached and pulled Vartan up off the ground, marching him out of the throne room and towards the gates that led out of Greenhaven. His mind again filled with the dragon’s powerful words.
'My king! Remember my words!' cried Vartan.
Until we meet again, young knight… You are very brave indeed.
Meet again? Who and what are you? thought Vartan. His thought echoed in his mind as if it had been suddenly emptied.
The golden walls shook ferociously as Nymira launched herself off of them to dive freely into the humid air. She stretched out her wings to glide gently toward the earth before flapping them hard to begin her long flight back to Trahoterra, and a huge gust of wind blew past the guards escorting Vartan.
One of the guard's eyes widened as he blurted, “What in the name of Marithia was that?”
After a long pause with no answer, they both shrugged it off and continued on, letting the bustling sounds of the busy city drown out their concern. As they reached the main gate, other guards already had a horse prepared for Vartan, and sacks packed with supplies. A crowd had begun to build from all the commotion, and people stopped what they were doing to watch Vartan being taken to the waiting horse.
“Sir Vartan, you really must leave Greenhaven immediately, as we have to follow King Arman’s orders. But know that you leave the city with honour.”
Vartan nodded appreciatively to the men and swiftly mounted his horse as the main gate was gently lowered by its heavy chains.
“Vartan, you forget your armour,” said two guards in unison, displaying friendly smiles.
One of them held up his bloodied silver helm, and the other threw him a shiny new sword. He caught it with his right hand and brought it up to his face to admire the gift. Vartan tapped the blade against his helmet in customary acceptance and ran his fingertips over the weapon. The sword was still warm to the touch, and felt strong, but agile.
This is not the sword I thought I would leave Greenhaven with, thought Vartan as he let out a submissive sigh.
Vartan cocked his head and asked, “This is a sword of immense quality. May I ask what I have done to deserve this honour?”
The closest guard looked around to ensure that nobody else could hear them and whispered, “We heard of your ambush, and that your sword was damaged beyond repair in battle defending Helenia’s life. It must have been quite a fight to have wrecked a sword of Greenhaven. We trust that your replacement weapon will serve you well in your travels.”
“What are your names?” asked Vartan quietly, sheathing his new sword.
The guard lowered his voice and spoke with haste. “We are Aidan and Stenwulf, royal guards to the throne. If you hadn’t accompanied Princess Helenia on her journey, it would have been our duty to be alongside her during the ambush. I fear that, unlike you, we would not have had the abilities to make it back alive. Consider our debt paid.'
Turning toward the crowd, Aidan slapped Vartan's horse, pointed at the gate and cried, 'Now begone, as fast as your horse can carry you!”
“I won’t forget your kind deeds, Aidan and Stenwulf. I pray that we meet again,” said Vartan.
He roughly slid his helm back over his head, put his sword’s leather strap gently over his shoulder and rode as hard as he could out of Greenhaven’s gate. Looking back over his shoulder, he saw a furious Derian watching him closely through the throne room windows.
It had all happened far too quickly, as if it had been a freak whirlwind that had torn apart his structured and carefully planned life.
Helenia, when will I see you again? he thought.
Vartan left Greenhaven with a troubled heart.
Chapter 2: Humble Beginnings
“Darkness comes, whether or not we choose to acknowledge its existence. Events are taking place that will tumble down like an avalanche to wreak havoc on our peaceful world; even I do not hold the power to alter these events on my own.
Our kind has long awaited this moment, to once again honour our sacred alliance. We are not familiar with the pain of mortality, but that is not to say that we are unable to perish. We rely on the world to flourish for our kind to exist; for if it were to fall into darkness, then we would sadly crumble alongside it.
One life can stop it all from taking place, and it is this life that we watch closest, however fragile it may be. If we can prevent the foreseen events from unfolding, then we all have a chance to survive, together. Every end has a beginning; it is these events, which have been written into our memories, that help us understand times to come.”
The sun sank deeper into the horizon as its warm rays gently caressed the earth in preparation for night. Leon relaxed in his old rocking chair. The sweet sound of wood creaking created an innocent ambience in the calm afternoon. In his hand was a piece of freshly cut oak, and with each precise stroke of his carving knife, it came a little closer to its intended shape. He led a peaceful life, tending to his many farm animals and growing food to trade for much-needed supplies at the local markets.
At rare times, he would trade in cities that were built in faraway lands. It was not the most glamorous of lives, but it was a lifestyle that was cherished by both Leon and his wife, Victoria. It was here that they proudly raised their two sons, Vartan and Finn. Vartan was the elder of the two boys and was today celebrating his
