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xaz-fr · 6 years

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Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

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This just in: Spayar is a BIG GAY MOOD

Chapter 4: The Mourning Rose

The city of Nedrag and the surrounding area sat in a low part of the land. The little bay the city sat in was enclosed by two cliffs that rose like they were embracing the sea and sky. Nedrag was set in the lowest part of the cliffs, in the only bit of shore there was, and Spayar was surprised to see that there were also buildings cut into and built onto the northern cliff face. He'd never been to Nedrag so of course he wouldn't know. Ships bobbed in the bay, only the smallest boats able to get close to the port and avoid the perils of shallow water. The city itself were neat plaster white buildings with flat roofs, sitting in neat rows like teeth in increasingly larger semi circles around the bay.

Directly next to Nedrag, separated by a black wall, was the Garden. If Nedrag was monochromatic, with only the blue Shard to contrast it, the Garden made up for it by being every color in the spectrum. The largest building, the Grand Temple, at the center of the Garden was a pure alabaster and a gold gilt roof. Across from it, down a paved walkway, was the chapel, and it was as black as the Grand Temple was white. Where the Temple was full of beautiful sweeping curves designed to look like it was hovering above your head without supports and had large stained glass windows in the front of a silver man with a moon for a halo, the chapel was squat and straddled the pathway like a toad. The air seemed dark around the chapel, which was also an eighth of the size of the Temple, and Spayar was glad he'd never get to go in there.

More paved pathways branched off from the Temple like the spokes of a wheel, that went to white buildings of various sizes. Some were cottages, others looked like dormitories or classrooms, stables, workshops, training grounds, and then up near the cliff it was buffered against was the large graveyard. Each plot was marked with a post with a white circle placed on it's apex; the sign of the full moon. The walls of all the buildings except the chapel and Temple were covered in greenery and flowers. This far north it was warm enough that flowers didn't have a season and bloomed nearly all year round and the ones that didn’t were magically encouraged to do so. The Garden was a riot of color, purple climbing up the side of a house, thick stripes of yellow and red flower beds lined the pathways, rose bushes with flowers as big as your hand were practically everywhere. It was a perpetual springtime paradise in the Garden it seemed.

"I hate this place," Von said from his horse as they looked down on the city and temple complex from the Sea Road, the road that ran directly from Peonia and the Garden. A gift, it was said, from a Peony Governor to a High Priestess. If you listened to the Aldashi version the two were lovers. The Nedalian version said it was a peace offering. For Spayar didn’t know. Probably some petty argument the neighboring provinces had about gymnastics or plant growing.

"You have to admit, it does look pretty," Spayar said. Idly.

Von looked at him with a frown, "You know what they do in there, don't you Spayar?"

"Yes, I am well aware," the teaching tables were legendary in the Garden and you could see them from here. Open air amphitheaters with a small stage where the only object upon it was a heavy wooden table that was said to be black from blood and bent from hate. They regularly held live dissections on criminals who warranted the death punishment; murderers, rapists, pedophiles, partakers in incest, and traitors. If they survived the lesson a healer tended to their wounds, regrew organs if needed, and they were put back in cells until needed again. The necromongers who taught lessons in anatomy were experts at keeping their 'patients' alive for weeks. If a patient survived four months, half a year, on a teaching table without dying all their charges were dropped and they were free to go. Spayar didn't know of one time someone had made it all six months.

That wasn't even the end of the horror that went on there though. Spayar was sure he didn't know half of it, and didn't want it; was glad he didn't know.

"It's sickening really," Von said.

"They aren't all like that," Spayar said. He’d met a few necromancers while serving time and some necromongers. They were just people who were more fanatic about their worship of the god of death than most of the Alliance. That didn’t make them bad.

Von looked at Spayar, "They're a noble house of the Alliance, Spayar," he said seriously, "they're all like that."

"They're just people. People who are useful to us. Stop complaining.”

Von sighed, "Yes, you’re right-

“I tend to be.”

Von gave him an annoyed look but it didn’t stick. “And I suppose they could be worse. I could throw my hand in with the Clan. I heard my sister is doing that. Idiot," and he tapped his horse's side and they headed for the Garden.

“She is?”

“Last I heard she was sleeping with one.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Why my siblings use their bodies like that when everyone knows it means nothing will never cease to baffle me,” Von said. Spayar looked away in embarrassment. He knew why they would. He knew because it was useful to him in the same way.

He cleared this throat, “She must be desperate if she’s actually in bed with the Clan. I hear they circumcise themselves. That’s weird.” Von snickered from his saddle and they urged their horses to continue along the road down to the Garden.

There were two entrances into the Garden, the Rose Gate, and the Sea Gate. The Sea Gate connected the Garden to Nedrag and allowed people to move in and out of both places without having to go around to the front Rose Gate. Three necromongers and a single necromancer, a skeleton crew, were manning the Rose Gate, the portcullis down and looked like the vines of some creeping plant. The walls surrounding the gate were covered in spines like a barbed rose and a large, red, piece of stone had been carved into the shape of a rose to hang over the entrance, the black stone that housed the gate and made up the wall looked like leaves. The necromongers looked at the two of them as they approached. "The Rosalia are accepting no visitors now," one said.

Von looked at Spayar to say something clever. "We come in the name of crown prince Vondugard Le'Acard. We're here to see the High Priestess, Lady Helida Rosalia. Now open the gates or the Asuras will hear about how you turned away her son's envoy," Spayar said. He was good at this stuff. Making people scared, not of him really, but the power behind him. He knew how to make people do what he wanted them do. Just a few right placed words and all sorts of doors opened up for him.

Of course it would have just been easier to announce Von himself, but they didn't want people to know they were here. They'd been careful coming to the Garden from Peonia not stopping at towns along the way and using the main road to travel fast to outpace anyone following them from Peonia. To the Asuras her children didn't just visit an important house for no reason, at least not one like the Rosalia. They had plenty of reason to keep their presence unknown. Thankfully it had only taken two days to ride up the coast.

The necromongers looked at one another and then at the necromancer. She pursed her lips and they and spoke amongst each other a moment. Spayar looked over at Von, what were they going to do if they didn't get in? It didn't come to that, "Tell his highness that our doors are always open to him," the necromancer said and the necromongers opened the portcullis. Von and Spayar walked under the Rose Gate and through to the other side. The portcullis thumped down behind them.

They rode to the Temple, and a pair of holsters ambled out curiously. Once it was clear they were guests of Helida they took their horses, helping them down and said they’d send their bags to where the High Priestess was allowing them to stay. After getting their names to add to the stable list they were beckoned off to enter the temple.

"Let’s hope we didn't come at a bad time,” Von said as they headed for the open mouth of the Temple. The entrance was open with a ethereal muslin veil covering the entrance. The bottom was beaded to keep it from flailing in the wind but parted like water when Von lifted the edge to go in.

"Her mother just died, Von," Spayar frowned at Von.

“I meant now,” he heard the eye roll in Von’s voice. “But it was almost five months ago Spayar, surely some of the bite is gone," Von said with a frown, "and her only daughter's naming day is approaching-

"It's in four days," Spayar supplied. He'd been tasked to know the naming days and names of every major noble house growing up, that included the new ones too. Von knew the heads of houses and important others. He didn't have to remember the others; that was what Spayar was for.

"Good. So lets hope she isn't so damn depressing. This place celebrates death after all."

Spayar frowned after Von. He just hard to remind himself that for a prince Von was pretty sheltered. He’d only ever been in the capitals really, or places where they were openly welcoming royalty. He hadn’t been around real people other than the Hillsmans in who knew how long. “That’s unfair to them,” Spayar grabbed him before he could go too far into the Temple.

"I'm the crown prince-

"These people could be one of your best allies. Your mother made herself no friend to Maja when she was alive, siding mostly with the Drake on important house politics when the two were involved. But they aren’t senseless or chaotic. They’re just people who worship Lemp, which is good because not many of us do.”

Von frowned hard at him, "Why do you have to be so damn smart all the time, Spayar?" Spayar didn’t miss the hurt feelings in his voice. Spayar let his arm go. He shouldn’t have felt bad for reminding Von to not be so judgmental but he was.

"You made me that way," Spayar said instead.

There was an uneasy silence between them for a moment. "You're right,” he said, acknowledging he’d done this himself.

“So listen to me when I give advice. Otherwise what is the point of me? A trophy?” D’aelar, an old Fey word meaning zealous servant, the most devoted to their chosen member of royalty. Von's older siblings called Spayar d'alaer to mock him in equal measure of how much they were jealous of their little brother to have someone so devoted to them as Spayar was to Von. There had only been a handful of named d'aelar in the entire existence of the Alliance since the first Asuras and his d'aelar, Masalla. To be named was no casual thing and Spayar didn’t always feel like he deserved it or that he was appreciated enough for actually having it.

Von’s eyes widened. “No,” he was quick to assure. “You’re my friend,” he touched Spayar’s arm. “You’re just… annoying sometimes.”

“So are you, don’t hear me complaining,” Spayar huffed.

“Oh so that whining you did all the way down the Westerlance didn’t happen?” Von grinned, relief spreading across his face that the uncomfortable moment was passed.

“Okay, maybe a little,” Spayar allowed.

“Can we go in now?”

“Yes.”

The muslin pooled against Von’s hand as he gently pulled away the veil barely concealing the entrance of the Temple and they quietly stepped inside. Inside the Temple was as grand inside as it was outside with shiny, multi-colored, marble floors and delicate white pillars. Frescos decorated the walls, most of the scenes involving death and women without faces riding pure white deer. Others involved naked men with stag heads eating the flesh of fallen warriors, and one depicted the three bird-like furies with gleaming swords and dark leather covering their bodies, ready for war, all of the paintings were scenes under moonlight of some form of solar eclipse.

This part of the Temple was totally open and at the back was a large, silver, statue of a man, Lemp; one of the twin head gods, ruler of the moon and the Shadowed Lands. He stood with one foot supporting most of his weight and you could see his ribs and clear line of his pelvis even through his clothes. Silver hair covered his eyes and in one hand he held a glass orb that glowed gently from the inside. A representation of the soul no doubt. In the other hand he held a shepherd's crook.

"Bad timing," Spayar whispered softly to Von as they walked a bit deeper into the side wings. The Temple was filled with people, all kneeling on the floor watching three people standing under the statue of Lemp, one women and two men, singing in a language Spayar didn't know. He had to assume it was the old tongue the necromancers spoke before their country had become part of the Alliance, the one their Red Book was written in. Spayar didn't know they spoke it anywhere else other than at funerals. The woman was a soaring soprano while the two men behind her were basses and it was a pleasant surpise. The singers had lovely voices that the vaulted ceilings of the Temple made resonate down into your bones.

Von tugged Spayar over to a wall and a small alcove where incense were burning gently in an alter of two cupped hands. Spayar looked up at the fresco and grimaced, they stood right under a stag headed man, a jogull, his maw dripped blood, his eyes a wild red color, teeth huge and pointed. He swallowed a bit and looked away, not liking being reminded that the Shadowed Land wasn’t the only place a soul could end up. "What’s this?" Von asked Spayar quietly to not disturb the service.

"No idea," Spayar whispered, "I think it's some sort of service."

"Is it a holy day?"

“Well… It is Lemest? So I guess? I'm not a Rosalia, how should I know?"

“Because you know stuff,” Von hissed.

"I don't know this," Spayar glanced at the Temple and the singing people. It was a very hauntingly beautiful sound he had to admit, also kind of creepy. But what did the Rosalia do that wasn't a bit creepy? "We'll just have to wait it out."

“Annoying,” Von muttered but they had no choice. They stood back, out of sight, waiting for it to end. Spayar's feet started to hurt before the song- songs?- ended. Everyone in the Temple bowed, touching their heads nearly to the floor and then stood up. The sound of hushed talking was nearly instant as they left through the main front entryway. Spayar recognized all of the people as necromancers or necromongers. No general servants or people from Nedrag had been in attendance. He could tell by their eyes and the way the men wore their facial hair. Every necromonger he’d met while serving time complained about having to keep their face shaved for religious reasons. Back home it was easy but on the road you sometimes had to make due with trusting someone with a dagger at your neck. If you were lucky an officer had a shaving knife or there was a lonth around who had the type of killer precision to shave your face without nicking you.

Once the last person had filed out Von stepped out of the alcove, "Okay, lets find the High Priestess," he said and Spayar followed him down the side wing to walk down to where the Temple had doors. Behind the main area of prayer the Temple also contained the rooms of the Governor and their family, the true Rosalia, since every man and woman who served Lemp called themselves Rosalia.

Von knocked on the door to the living area and a servant answered the door, "Can I help you, sirs?" she asked.

"We're here to see the High Priestess," Spayar said.

"She isn't seeing anyone."

"We're envoys of the crown prince Vondugard. Ask her if she'll see us," Spayar put in kindly.

The servant frowned at them, "I will ask," and she closed the door on them.

"What if she doesn't see us?" Spayar asked Von.

"Helida isn't stupid. She'll see us."

"Does she know we're coming?"

"No. But I know Tallalsala came and saw her. Helida nearly invoked my mother's wrath when she quite literally threw my sister out on her ass," Von chuckled.

"But?" Spayar asked, he hadn't heard this. That made him extra nervous. He hated not knowing what the royal heirs had been up to while he was gone. What stupid mess they’d made while he wasn’t around to capitalize on it.

"It was a few weeks after her mother died and, as you said, my mother and hers were not friends. She threatened to create a portal into the sky and see what came out if my mother wanted to 'punish' her for not tolerating Tallasala’s rudeness, which included some very nasty things including stripping of titles and going into the Book of Bloods. Needless to say it didn’t end well and Tallalsala had to apologize. My mother managed to smooth things over after that but we’ve had no correspondence with the Rosalia since.”

"Your mother is an idiot," Spayar said with a snort.

"She is," Von said passionlessly.

"You'll do better than her," he said as the door opened again to the servant girl.

"She's agreed to see you," she said.

"Thank you," Spayar said and they followed after the servant into a hallway. She led them to a room at the back of the Temple complex and knocked. Someone within bid them to enter and the servant opened the door, Spayar and Von went in.

Helida wore a dress down to her knees the color of storm tossed water, gray and blue and cold that made her brown skin look gray. Her long, brown, dreadlocks were piled on the top of her head like a crown and she wore small yellow flowers in her hair, woven into her locks. She had one brown eye, and her right one was the color of a drop of blood. Despite the mourning dress she didn’t seem any less than he expected her. Of course he put on all sorts of brave faces so wasn’t above thinking that of her. The room wasn’t exactly a room but an open air courtyard surrounded by high blooming hedges and enclosed by small gazebo.

When the two of them climbed the two short steps up to the wooden floor of the gazebo she bowed lowly to Von. “Your highness,” she said.

"You knew it was me?" Von said, hands behind his back.

She looked up at him with cool eyes, “I expected someone else to come along eventually after her highness Tallalsala made such a blunder. That and you look like your grandmother, of course I knew it was you.”

Von grimaced. “I see. I am actually not here to speak of politics at all, regardless of my incompetent sister,” Von said.

"Oh?" she asked, raising her brows at him.

"I came for two reasons," he said and stepped over to Helida. He took her hand in both of his, "I'm sorry about your mother," he said sincerely and Spayar actually wondered how sincere he truly was. Von didn't do things like this unless he could benefit from them. And he didn’t know what it was like to want to mourn a family member. "I know our families did not get along as well as they should have while she was High Priestess but she was an amazing woman. The world shall mourn her passing as I'm sure Lemp is glad to have someone like her back with him."

"She was,” Helida swallowed and it was the first time Spayar saw a chip in Helida's armor, and extracted her hand from Von’s "No doubt she's at peace in the Shadowed Lands." Von and Spayar crossed themselves respectfully.

"I also know that your daughter's naming day is coming," Von smiled warmly at her, "I had hoped to be invited," he held up a velvet bag he pulled out of nowhere containing the hair comb he’d bought n Tassa’s approval. Spayar didn't even bother to question where he'd been hiding it.

Helida appraised her prince, looking for lies, deception, or a way to make her look a fool in an attempt to regain his sister's honor. The truth was though Von didn't care about his siblings, much less Tallalsala. He was here for himself and yes to celebrate little Paja's naming day. After a few moments Helida allowed a slight smile to come to her face, "It would be an honor your highness,” she said. "I'll have some rooms for you prepared for you both. I assume you aren't here publicly?"

"No," Von said, "Discretion would be appreciated. My mother doesn't want her children anywhere near the Garden until... oh how did she put it?" he seemed to think a few seconds, holding his chin. "Oh, right, until 'that new red witch has remembered who holds the power'." Helida's eyes narrowed, Von shrugged, "But I am nothing if not a misbehaving son,” he said with a charming grin.

"You may want to be careful your highness," Helida said, "Roses have thorns."

"I'll just wear gardener's gloves then," Von’s smile didn’t falter for a moment.

Helida looked him over a last time, “Hmm, I like you more than your sister," she said.

"My sister is a moron," Von said candidly. "So, those rooms my dear High Priestess? Also maybe something to eat? My vassal and I are starving."

"Of course. And perhaps also a bath," she said mildly, Spayar wrinkled his nose but did agree. "I'll have Nemi air out some of the guest rooms across the court, you may make yourselves comfortable until they're prepared and have your bags brought to them.”

“Thank you, Helida. You are a most gracious and warm host.” He gave a little flourished bow more for the flair and less for the respect. That amused her and she chuckled.

“You are a gracious guest, prince Vondugard,” she said respectfully and stepped down from the gazebo to get the servant.

"Helida," Von said as she opened the door.

"Yes, your highness?"

"I am sorry about your mother. I can only imagine what it must be like," since Helida had no parents. Her father had gone through the Departed ceremony to get himself ritually killed shortly after Maja had suddenly died. Spayar wasn’t quite sure of what still. It was hard to get information from necromongers or necromancers in the Arm about what had killed the late High Priestess.

Helida looked over her shoulder at him, "Something tells me you will, your highness," and then she left the two of them.

When the door closed behind them Von grabbed his chest dramatically. "I have never been more scared of a woman in my entire life." He dropped onto the wooden bench that wrapped around the gazebo,

Spayar chuckled and sat down next to Von, "She is quite something," Spayar agreed with a smile.

"I felt like she was going to snap me in half with just her eyes," Von said, sagging in the chair.

"She is the High Priestess," Spayar reminded him.

"I must be a fool to try and play with the Rosalia. No wonder my mother distanced herself from this house when she could. They're terrifying!"

Spayar laughed, "Weren't you the one who said all the noble houses are this bad?"

"They are!"

"And that you wanted to try for the Drake as well?"

"Uhg, don't remind me. I can wait on the Drake until I feel like I'm not in danger of having my nuts ripped off and stepped on by a necromancer," Spayar laughed louder this time. "Laugh it up Spayar. I'd like to see you talk to her."

"You forget," Spayar said, "everyone you know and associate with is above me and could kill me whenever they wanted, for any reason. I'm used to dealing with people who make me squirm. It's a good lesson for you to find someone who scares you."

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s good for you.”

“And yet I have learned that everything that is ‘good for me’ sucks,” Von cried.

“Well… depends on what’s sucking,” Spayar said mildly and Von just looked at him very confused. At least Spayar knew Von was still innocent like that.

“How do you do it? Deal with those people?”

“I just remind myself you need me.”

“I am an adult, and quite capable,” Von said.

“Yeah. But you still need me,” Spayar said with a little self satisfied grin. “Who else will watch your back but me?”

“I guess you have a point. I do like having you around, even you are completely unreasonable at times.”

Spayar snickered as the door opened. It was another servant woman, this one looking much more everything than the one who'd showed them here. "Sirs, your rooms are ready. If you'd follow me," she said and they both heaved themselves off the bench and followed her. She led them out of the Temple and across the well paved path to a guest house between the Temple and Chapel. “Here you are,” she showed them in. It was several one room apartments with attached bathrooms. “You missed lunch," she said, "but Lady Rosalia is having food brought to your rooms shortly."

"Excellent," Von said, "Thank you," he nodded to the woman who just brushed something invisible off her apron and left them. "Bath and food?" Von asked him.

"I'll come over once I'm out," Spayar said.

"Good," and then Von vanished into the room he'd been given.

Spayar slipped into his own. It was well furnished but nothing horrifically elaborate. His bags were on a low bench at the end of the bed and there was a door to a bathroom on the left. He stripped and went to the bathroom, thankfully it looked the same as the one back home with an above ground tub. He knew inset floor tubs were becoming popular among the wealthy, especially nobility. Spayar just found them difficult to get in and out of.

The water was warm out of the tap and there was over a dozen vials and bottles of every scent he could imagine and a few he couldn't as well as three different soaps. He picked the mildest smelling ones he could find and washed. It felt good to get rid of all the dirt. He heard someone enter his room but leave again without announcing themselves, probably just his lunch. His stomach growled then, reminding him of how hungry he was. Spayar had planned on soaking in the bath a bit but his stomach demanded he do otherwise, so he climbed out of the tub, dripping wet and went into his room without bothering with a towel.

There was a tray on the side table filled with cool and raw foods. He groaned. Shit, he forgot the Rosalia were vegetarian. He'd been looking forward to meat, but no meat was allowed inside the Garden and other than specific sacrifices no animals were allowed to be harmed here either. If you wanted meat you had to go to Nedrag. Spayar looked forlornly at his meal and picked at a baked bun filled with vegetables. It wasn’t that it was bad but in Peonia raw meat was already being sold, despite the very clear law saying that wasn’t allowed, and that made cooked meat for purchase even more expensive. Von hadn’t wanted to contribute to it so they’d only eaten fish in Peonia.

He wandered around his room a bit eating the bun and letting the wind from the open window dry his naked skin. He looked for spy holes and hollow areas where there shouldn’t be. He also checked under the bed and in the closet but found nothing. Either the Rosalia were trusting or they didn’t care. He supposed it was probably the latter. Who was dumb enough to make plots against the house of necromancers in their own home? Satisfied with his room he dressed, grabbed his tray still full of food and went to Von's room. He used a bit of magic to push the door open so he didn't have to take his hands off the tray.

"Von," Spayar called as he entered.

"Still in the bath," Von called back as Spayar closed the door.

"Still?" Spayar sat on Von's bed, putting the tray in his lap and started putting food in his mouth. He didn't care if it was vegetarian, he was starving and it was good. Honestly he didn't even notice the lack of meat as he ate some sort of cool, savory, tart filled with cheese and vegetables.

"It feels wonderful," Von said delightfully from the bathroom and he heard some water sloshing, the door was ajar but Spayar couldn't see inside. "You didn't want to relax?"

"I'm eating," Spayar said, his mouth full. From the bathroom Von laughed.

"I do have to admit," Von said, "This did turn out better than I expected."

"You expected to be ejected?"

"As soon as she saw me honestly," and Spayar heard more water sloshing around. "You remember the Rosalia ruled Nedalia before it became one with the Alliance."

"I remember," Spayar said. Old Nedalia had had two rulers before they became part of the Alliance. A weak king and a much stronger faction of priestesses who served Lemp. Von's ancestor had taken Nedalia nearly fifteen hundred years ago, promising that the Rosalia would rule this province and not the now extinct Rensun.

"Honestly it's like some of these houses still think they rule," Von muttered, just loud enough for Spayar to hear.

"Well that's why it's called the Alliance," Spayar shrugged as he shoved an apple slice covered in honey into his mouth and nearly gagged on how sweet it was, "You only rule through their agreement of an alliance," he went to eat the rest of the food on his tray instead of the honeyed apples. There was cubed and skewered squash, yam, and turtle peppers covered in a thick brown sauce he was into.

"I know," Von sighed.

"Then why do you make me remind you?"

"It'd just be so much easier if the Alliance was smaller, and I didn't have to worry about such high and mighty nobles."

"I don't," Spayar said.

"You're not a Le'Acard," Von said and Spayar heard yet more sloshing, a lot more sloshing. "You don't have to worry about the stuff I worry about."

"Yeah I just have to worry about you. And let me tell you, one Le'Acard is enough to... worry about," Spayar trailed off, the food practically falling out of his mouth, as Von came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and he swallowed thickly. Before he'd left to serve his Von had been a child. He'd been almost fifteen years of age and seeing him shirtless was like seeing a child shirtless. That was two years ago and Von's visits to bother Spayar on his service had come maybe twice a year for a short period of time, this was the longest he'd spent with his prince in two years. In two years Von had grown up and he definitely didn't look like a child now and had some hair on his chest and a defined abdomen he definitely hadn't had when Spayar had left. His arms were muscular and his skin was bronze all over, meaning he'd trained, outside, shirtless, during the summer. Spayar blushed and thanked every god he knew his skin was too dark to show it.

"Yeah but you like it," Von didn't even seem to notice and smirked at him before going to find some clothes. Spayar stared down at his tray. Good gods when had Von become a man? He always sort of knew it but he still thought of Von as that barely fifteen year old kid he'd left in Assarus two years ago. Von definitely wasn't a kid anymore. This just made it worse for Spayar honestly.

"It has its benefits," Spayar said and cleared his throat.

"Well of course. I mean you get to be in my presence," Von teased.

“Yeah, the presence of the most royal pain in my ass," he said but still was staring at his tray as he heard Von pull on his clothes. His knuckles were pale where he was gripping the tray. He wanted to look, but he didn't.

Von laughed, "Food any good?" he asked as he sat next to Spayar and finally he could look, oh thank the gods he was dressed. Von had his own tray of food next to him, between the two of them.

"For nothing but vegetables, yes, its good," Spayar said and pried his hands off his tray so he could eat. The gods were testing him with giving him a hot best friend, one who was also a prince. It was a cruel test.

"I forgot they don't eat meat," Von popped one of the little cheese and vegetable tarts into his mouth thoughtfully. "Honestly I don't know why the Drake and Rosalia don't get along. The wyrms are vegetarians, the necromancers are vegetarians, the Wyrd practically sustains itself on fish and chicken. "

"So they should get along based on their food preferences alone?" Spayar rose his brows at Von.

"Why not? Not like their hatred is any less stupid. Do you even know why they hate each other?"

"No," Spayar said. The reason for the blood feud had been lost centuries ago, and had started when the Rosalia had first started to train necromancers, decades after they joined the Alliance. All anyone knew was that the two factions loathed each other and the feud had nearly led to civil war several times in the past two thousand years. No one even knew why. Anyone Spayar talked to who wasn’t part of the feud also thought it was beyond ridiculous.

"No doubt its over something stupid. Like a girl, or a pig, or some insignificant slight," Von said, unimpressed as always with the petty hatred between the Rosalia and Drake.

"Who can say honestly," Spayar said. "So other than Paja's naming day what is your plan here?"

"Nothing," Von said.

"Nothing?"

"Yes. Nothing," Von had found the apple slices and was polishing those off while he eyed the ones Spayar had left on his own tray. Spayar didn't like sweet things that much, he knew Von did though.

"What do you hope to accomplish with that?"

"That I'm better than my mother," Von said. "I've been planning what to do for a while and honestly Tallalsala's mistake was a great opportunity for me," he smiled slightly, madly. "My family has lost the art of subtlety the last few generations. My mother didn't even kill her own mother, she just found her hurt brother who'd thrown the coup and killed him, taking his place. It's all brute strength and no brawn in my family. Bless my father for being a snake in the grass and slithering into her bed,” he crossed himself like he was thanking a god.

"Which none of your siblings got except you?"

Von shook his head, "Teldin is good. He's overly cautious, but a good match for my brain," he tapped his temple, leaving a slight residue of honey. It took more willpower than Spayar would admit to to not wipe it away with his thumb. "Can I have those?" he pointed to Spayar's honeyed apple slices, the only food left on his tray.

"Yeah," Spayar said and Von took the little plate they were on happily. Spayar smiled slightly, he liked making Von happy, even if it was just small things like honeyed apple slices.

"I have sources," Von said, the apple slices vanishing down his throat quicker than they maybe should have while he was talking, “Not you, I know what a surprise. But they’ve told me Teldin has put his lot in with the White Foot and the Wren-Kal."

Spayar frowned, "Both are powerful," he said. The White Foot were a nomadic people from the north who lived in the foothills of the Spine and within the Spine itself at times. They were a fearsome cavalry and being so close to the Federation border they could shoot an arrow or swing a sword almost before they could talk. The Wren-Kal were a house of powerful warlocks, many of which with the lightning element. Not a great enemy to have.

"Yeah and like I told you, Tallasala is approaching Clan chieftains. She knows Teldin has started to move." The Clan of the Yellow Hills was a collection of tribes who only barely agreed to Alliance laws and abided more by their own tribal laws than not. They were also known ritualistic cannibals. The ritualistic part was usually left out in most people’s minds so they had a fearsome reputation.

"What about Obi and Dellin?"

"They probably also know. Honestly if I know then my mother knows and so do my older siblings," he didn't mention the younger ones. Malora, Cashchil, and Gurrin, were all too young to worry about politics. The next oldest, Cashchil, was only twelve. "Though if I know about the White Foot and Wren-Kal I don't know about others. Military officials, master smiths, lower houses. All important."

"Was the Tallalsala coming here a reaction to her learning about the Wren-Kal?"

"Possibly," Von said licking the last of the honey off his fingers and the natural frown on Spayar's face deepened. "She moved too quickly, pissed off a potential ally, and then went whimpering back to mother." He rolled his eyes.

"Teldin will move soon?"

"I don't think so. You know how he is, everything is methodical. He won’t do anything until he knows he can and will win.”

"How long do you think you have until he makes a move?"

"A year. If I'm lucky," Von said seriously and Spayar swallowed. Von was marking his life at one more year if he didn't stage a coup first. Why couldn't the Le’Acard just wait until the old Asuras died or stepped down like every other kingdom? Why did the death of an Asuras always come accompanied by so much blood shed? Right, because the Alliance was like no other kingdom on Priman'osta. "Once I'm done here I need you to return to back to Assarus before me-

“Why not accompany you?”

“It’s safer for you in Assarus than it is for me. Teldin is there. He won’t hurt you but I don’t trust him not to do something to me.”

“And what are you doing?”

"I'm going to head south-

"Please don't say Peonia."

"No. The Lord Peony loves my mother. She has that… man,” he stopped himself from saying something rude, “in her pocket. I'm going to go to Alderin."

Spayar thought about who lived in Alderin. It was a little city too far inland to have a port and was off the main road that ran the length of the Shard. There was no high noble family there, so lower, probably a military official. He squinted in thought about what was so important about Alderin to have a someone needing to watch it. Trade, of course. "One of your mother's Praetors lives in Alderin," Spayar sad once he remembered but that didn’t help his confusion.

"He does."

Spayar blinked, "You're going to try for a Praetor?" he asked. Though it was a better idea than the Archon since usually when the Asuras died they were either killed or forced to step down. The Archon only obeyed the Asuras and was dangerous to have around when you took the throne. More than one Archon had betrayed a new Asuras after a coup to warrant the tradition.

"X'vazior and my mother have been on the rocks lately. She wants to try and capture land beyond the Mesa Plains, X'vazior publicly refused to lead his Arm across it-

"That happened like five years ago," Spayar's brow creased, "I thought she forgave him."

"Publicly. He still shamed her, and she humiliated him. X'vazior is holding onto that grudge."

"You know for a fact?"

"My mother summoned him to the Summer palace this year. He said he was busy and could not 'tend to her every whim' since they were suffering a bad harvest this year and he had to find a way to get food to his people," Von said.

"He really doesn't like your mother."

"You would be surprised how many people hate my mother," Von sighed and sat back, holding himself up with his arms. "She spends frivolously, she's a coward who hides behind her title, she wants to be a conqueror when every province is trying to find enough food during a bad year for harvests and can't afford a real war. She shuns powerful houses because they frighten her and I heard that the Shade are simply not reporting anything. Any of Aklin’s men who are sent into LoHaJo’in never come back, the Shade kill them no doubt. The Drake are starting to bite a bit too hard on the Rosalia and my mother isn't doing much to stop them. I've heard rumors that people are scared there will be a civil war, a proper one and not a mere Conflict. My mother can't hold the Alliance together and people are angry."

"Does she know this?"

"She must," he sighed and rubbed his head like he had a headache, "Aklin's a good spymaster. He knows things I could never dream of knowing about her, about what's going on. I think she's too scared to do anything. She doesn't know how to be Asuras." Spayar did not agree or disagree. He didn't know much of the Asuras, but his father certainly complained about her plenty, usually in the same breath he complained about Von 'spiriting his son away to be his lap dog'. Spayar was usually too busy focusing on everything else to look too hard as his Asuras and the only thing he truly knew about her was that she did kill her brother during his coup before he could kill him. "She's an idiot with a wooden sword trying to train lions," Von sucked his teeth, "and now they're starting to growl at her and she doesn't know what to do."

"You'll do better," Spayar said.

Von looked at him, his brow low over his eyes in a worried look, "I have to be if I don't want to die," he said. "For my survival I need to be better," and he looked away. Spayar didn't know what to say to that. After a moment of hesitation he reached over and put his hand over Von's, Von twisted a few of fingers to grasp Spayar's.

"We'll be fine," Spayar said softly.

"I hope so," Von said, looking at him again, "I really hope so."

#nanowrimo #original fantasy #zs #thou shalt always queue

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