LAVEN HEPHAESTUS ARVENALDI, II
VAIGON CITADEL
I HAVE ASKED STRAVAN yesterday and yet again today who it is that he knows, specifically, who it is that is spreading the mayhem over my land. Just as yesterday, his response is the same. Yet, at least today I am receiving a more in-depth answer.
He has an inkling of who it is but refuses to guess or speculate and false claim someone—which is comprehensible. Just because Agivath says that it could be his uncle or the companion close to him, does not mean it is accurate. Visions of the future are always subjective as are visions of the past.
There was a letter he sent to his sister, Savarina, in hopes of her doing research across their realm while he is away. I wrote out specifically when and where our first outbreak began. Next, I wrote out the process the body goes through after being bitten, clawed or both. All words from my own experience and also what I have witnessed.
I do not state in the letter that these are words from my own experience because I do not need word to spread too far of my having been healed by the Tree of Gods.
“Laven, what do you consider?” My mother asks as we walk the area outside of the palace, making sure all decorations for Summer Solstice are in place.
Inside the palace decorations are nearly complete. All of the gold strung candles make everything appear more ethereal than it already is.
Now we are outside aiming for the same, but she is incorporating flowers and greenery through the gold and neutral shades.
I give her a smile. “It looks lovely as you have it now.”
There are decorators moving across the span of the balcony wrapped around the palace, they are twining strings of leaves and flowers across the tan stone.
“Apolla,” Axynth calls for my mother as he stands in his black leathers and cloak.
“Oh, Axynth.” Ma gasps as she walks toward him. “Do fix your hair before we leave!” Immediately she is forcing her fingers through his white hair, lifting the pieces hanging over his forehead.
“You and Amias both seem to forget what a brush is.” She scolds. “Stravan will be coming with us to our Southern Court, he will learn the land of Wanora as we arrange the search parties. I cannot be certain we will arrive home before Solstice, so come.” She holds her arms out to embrace me before she and Axynth leave.
“And who will you be spending your Solstice with? One of the women on your list?”
“Ma,” I say in shock.
“Did you think it was hard to understand the smirks on the boys’ faces? Especially my sons.” Axynth raises an eyebrow as he watches me.
Amias could not have a poker face if he tried.
Axynth has always been able to sense when we are getting into something we should not be, especially myself. When I lost my father, Axynth became the father figure we all were missing.
“They mean nothing.” I declare to him as my mother rushes off to aid a decorator.
“All the more reason to not spread your legs.” Axynth reaches out, fixing the string on the collar of my undershirt. “You are not getting any of these women pregnant, are you? Do you know what it means to pull–”
“My Gods,” I interrupt him. “I am afraid Morano beat you to that bit.”
Axynth smiles, his chest gently jumps up and down as he laughs. “So, you are pulling out and praying?”
There has not been a reason to pull out. I do not know if I remember what it feels like to have that rush of pleasure any longer.
“All of you behave while we are gone.” His hand roughly pats my cheek before finding my mother again and ascending.
Then, soon enough, I see the Dragons overhead taking flight to Wanora after Stravan.
* * *
“Ethivon,” Morano says as he enters my study with Roaner and Amias.
“What of it?” I ask looking up from the stacks of letters Lorsius avoided from the small villages and cities within the citadel.
Salem sneaks into the study through the small opening in the door, he prances through the room and leaps on to my bureau taking Morano by shock. “Is no one monitoring these animals?”
“He is harmless, Morano.” I laugh as Salem stretches across the papers. I pick him up and place him on the chaise near the fireplace; right after, Nyt enters to find Salem and he lays on the ground next to the fire.
“We still need to go there soon,” Amias sits down on the chaise near the bookshelf. “We need to speak with them, warn them of what is coming while also asking if they have had any encounters with rogues.”
I nod while leaning back in my chair. “We do. I have been thinking of this for some time now, but I cannot seem to find a way to Ethivon.”
“We also need to ask for allyship.” Roaner says as his arms cross.
Alongside Nadrexi, Ethivon stood the strongest next to Old Quamfasi in the war. Ethivon was one of the many reasons Lorsius conceded in our final war.
Ethivon alone could have demolished our men and women.
“And do any of us truly know the location of Ethivon after the war?” I look between them all.
Amias’s eyebrows furrow. “Do not look my direction.”
Morano chortles at Amias as Roaner leans against the window, he stares far into the woods before his head turns toward me. “Ivella does.”
“Oh, Ivella.” Morano sardonically sings.
“Send a messenger to her, she will respond.” Roaner urges.
I do not know what would make him think she would answer this letter out of the many I have already sent, but I pull out a paper, quill, and ink.
Ivella,
Roaner brought it to my attention that you have the location of Ethivon.
I would like your assistance in finding their whereabouts. We must look to them for allyship as well as sending warning to them about the possibilities of war if we cannot get the spread under control.
Thank you,
Laven
After handing off the letter to a messenger, I look at Roaner. “Why would she respond to this if she has not responded to anything else I have sent?”
He shrugs. “She will.”
“I think this would be a quest to assign to Levora. She wants duties, and immediately. She is still getting used to being home, yet she is adamant about wanting work.”
Morano quickly agrees. “After all she went through, I know she is capable of it.”
The four of us decide and set it in stone that Ethivon will be Levora’s first ever task.
* * *
Roaner was not wrong.
Our messenger has returned and bears a letter in his hand.
“From Lady Ivella of Xenathi.”
I take the letter from the messenger, thanking him before he ascends from the study.
Morano leans across my bureau, his chin is propped on his palm as he smirks at me. “You should see how red your cheeks are.”
I shove him away before pulling the red wax seal.
Amias peeks over my shoulder and I push him away.
Roaner chuckles from the window, his smirk ig nites the green in his blue eyes.
“I should strip all of you of your placements.” I sneer at them.
“You would not dare. Your life will be unfulfilling without us.” Morano smiles.
The words from Agivath slip into my mind and just for that split second, I wonder who it would be. Whose life am I making sure stays on this earth as I offer my own. Agivath was not clear if this would happen, so I continue.
Hello Laven,
I do know the path to Ethivon, Roaner is correct. I will speak with you soon.
Ivella
Quickly, I am writing another letter to send.
I am desperate and I do not care that I show it.
As I write, I can see Morano practically jumping in his chair.
Ivella,
Thank you for responding.
When do you plan for us to speak?
Laven
“Now we wait again.” Morano simpers as I seal the folded letter.
* * *
We did wait, and we are still waiting.
I am unsure if she will even respond again—forcing me to wait in angst for a short letter.
“And what was the problem here?” I ask Farsven.
Farsven is Lorsius’s Auxiliary and informs him of issues within our towns and cities.
By the high stack of papers in his hands, again, there is much Lorsius has put off out of not caring to provide our people with what they beg for and need.
“There have been multiple sellers in our markets who tax the Quamfasian people more than what they tax the people of Vaigon, that is if they tax the people of Vaigon at all. Two days ago, there was a brawl between a shop owner and an Old Quamfasian Warrior. This is not new information; this has been going on for years now. Lorsius does not care to tell them to fairly tax everyone. In his eyes, the Old Quamfasian folk are being fairly taxed, when we can see they are not.”
He continues, feeding me more and more information of everything within the mainland that has been avoided. From Lorsius not properly serving our people, to the extreme legal matters that are not being met within Vaigon’s highest societies—illegal enslavement, assaults, building on land without contracts and deeds, fake coin production, contraband, treason, illegal trade, and somehow even more the longer he sits with me.
All of this will take seasons upon seasons to clean up, as well as
needing proof to charge everyone properly.
I allow Roaner, Amias, and Morano to listen in on everything Farsven explains. And as each problem is explained, each of us pick up a task as it is said.
This week I granted Roaner and Morano the ability to have as much say as Amias and I do. It was the best decision I have made thus far. Both Roaner and Morano now have the position to handle all the matters they took on from Farsven and will hand out demands to our highest of societies as if they were mine.
If I am to be High King, the people of Vaigon will learn now what I will demand of them, or they will lose everything they have by my word. There is enough they have gotten away with, and when I am to reign, they will be given no choice but to forget the treacheries they once were able to commit or serve the consequences. I have endured pain, suffering, and agony at the hands of this nation. My citadel. I have been a victim, I have been a prisoner, I have been a patient, and I will never allow this same nation to see me weak ever again.
IT IS MUCH PAST midnight as Roaner, Amias, Hua, and Morano sit in my study with me.
Mrs. Patro had mounds of dinner brought to the study, there is still much left as we all deliberately work and eat at once.
“Do any of you believe I have failed in some way for not knowing any of this?”
Roaner’s eyebrows deeply furrow. “How were you to know of any of this if he did not tell you? None of this work we are dealing with is of your duties.”
“I understand that, but what if there was some way that I should have known of this?”
“Laven, stop.” Hua says bringing me another plate filled with food. “Lorsius took over these tasks for a reason. He hid them from you because he did not want you to do what was right and most importantly, what was legal. There is so much here he has done that qualifies him as a High King of treason within his own continent. None of this is your fault. Now eat, you are the only one left who still has yet to eat.”
She gently grips my shoulder before returning to her chair.
Morano rolls up a wad of papers before reaching across the table. He draws back, whacking Amias across his face, jolting him awake.
“Stop it!” Hua scolds Morano as she snatches the paper from his hand and hits him back just before he can duck.
“Fuck you!” Amias hollers. “You diminutive bastard!” He grabs a vessel that still contains wine in it.
Roaner reaches out, stopping him. “Leave my wine, it did nothing to you.”
As I roam across a letter from a mother pleading for her son to not be drafted in any coming wars, I remember the group of enlistees Hua and Amias met with weeks ago.
“Since I have you both here, how has it been training the new enlistees?”
Hua laughs but Amias is stoic. “Those children are arduous and indolent.” Amias sneers. “They spoke a great deal about what they think they can handle, and when tested they flee. Some have egos and I do not even understand what they have accomplished in their short life to have an ego of any sort.”
“I will join you soon and speak with them.”
“High Prince Laven is going to attend the Training Grounds?” Hua teases.
I point a warning finger at her. “Only to mend your indolent teenagers.”
“Is there anything I can help with?” We all turn to the door and Levora is standing there in her night attire.
Roaner looks away continuing his work.
“There is quite a bit for you to assist us with. Tomorrow morning I will explain it all?” I ask.
She nods and looks toward Morano. “Behave, Amias knows where you sleep.”
They chuckle and before she leaves, she looks at Roaner who is busy in his papers. She opens her mouth to speak but chooses not to.
As she leaves down the hall there is a messenger walking up with a small letter in his hand. Before he reaches the doors he bows before Levora who smiles and continues on her way out. As he hands over the letter to me, I ask when it was that this was sent, and he tells me just now.
She must be having difficulty sleeping.
“She is,” Roaner says through the bond while gathering more food onto his plate.
I would ask why, but I am sure I already know the answer myself.
Laven,
You will see me at my expediency.
Ivella
