TOBIN CANRAREN IS A FAKE KING. As the rightful King of Cardina, he lies about his lifestyle in order to protect his people from the effects of the war. This mission becomes harder when Synketros, an organization aiming to mine manpower, demands his...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
2412, Iclis 06, Briss
Being out of the heavy armor he wore every day was concerning, at least to Ariam. He walked alongside merchant carts and the riding animals snorting in different puffs. The absence of the metallic clink with his every step brought a static dread in his gut. Maybe it's the paranoia talking, or maybe the mere insanity of this whole thing finally got into him.
He kept looking behind him to see if someone followed him since leaving the Royalty region. As usual, he found no one. If anything, he would spot a human or a half-blood in the thickening crowd of fairies trudging through the route he found himself in.
The trees towered over him, bearing leaves of different colors, shapes, and disposition. Names continued to elude him, but he was satisfied by merely craning his neck up at them and admiring how they crowded towards the sky in hopes of getting the most sunlight. It made the forest floor dimmer but also colder. Better than what Ariam had lived through in the borders of Cardina.
However, being used to blistering temperatures brought more problems. While he wasn't sweating even though he had been walking for hours, the deeper he went inside the forest following the trading path, the crisper the wind became until it bit against his skin, leaving angry prickles. His teeth started chattering an hour ago, and now that he's almost to the end of the route before peeling off into the heart of this current city or to another, he had given up all decency and stuck his hands underneath his armpits just to keep the chills at bay. The number of odd looks he got from the varichriais flitting by were something he'd rather not count.
He should have packed a shawl or something. Not that he owned one, nor the thought of owning one ever crossed his mind, but...still. The worst part was he couldn't even blame the young King for his misery. His Majesty...well, Tobin, told Ariam he was free to decline the task and stay in Cardina. Ariam, bogged by the possible distrust of his king, shook his head and promised he'd get the job done, and with good results. Of course, with both of them unaccustomed to the life beyond the borders of Cardina, Tobin wouldn't tell him to bring something to keep warm as well.
If there was anyone to blame for this whole fiasco, it was the Sovereign. Without her meddling into the scene of Tobin establishing a dynasty, they wouldn't need to do half the things they were doing instead of solving the societal issues propagated by the preceding monarchs. If Synketros hadn't entered the picture, Tobin would have had a clearer way to becoming a good King.
And that's why Ariam chose to serve Tobin when the shard fairy's army—representing Synketros, mind—brought a wide-eyed shepherd inside, shaking like a newborn dagrine foal. When he was chosen as the new Captain of the Guard, he spent a week telling himself he's got the most coveted job inside the palace, one that most people would die and cheat their neighbors for.
Some part of him believed he was chosen because he had displayed the right qualities for the designation; but he had seen how Tobin's gaze swept past their platoon that day—how empty and clueless it was. So, the logical part of Ariam's mind told him he was where he was because of luck and luck alone.
