Once upon a time, there was a city. And in that city lived the happiest people, ruled by the wisest king. The people was governed fairly and the city was protected on all sides by great, tall walls and a legion of loyal soldiers. Excerpt from folklore 'The Heroic King' Crown or Tiara (Chapter 1) By Shinieris

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Once upon a time, there was a city. And in that city lived the happiest people, ruled by the wisest king. The people was governed fairly and the city was protected on all sides by great, tall walls and a legion of loyal soldiers.

Excerpt from folklore 'The Heroic King'
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"So far so good, keep holding your foot up," the elderly woman said to the 14 year old girl. The girl was wearing a thin silken white dress, cropped above the knee and simple in design. At this moment, the girl was balancing herself on her left leg, with her other leg being held behind her in the air by her right hand's fingers on her toes. Her other hand was held away from her body, palms facing the sky.

"Balance!" said the elderly woman so suddenly that the young girl jumped and almost lost her footing.

"Steady... don't lose your balance," the elderly woman said before the girl fell onto the floor.

"Oww..." the girl said, rubbing her knees which got scraped on the wool carpet when she fell.

The elderly woman stood with her left hand on her face and sighed. "You only managed to stay balanced for two minutes, princess. Yes, that's an improvement, but it's still not much of a difference."

"I don't wanna do it anymore!" whined the girl, "Why must I do this? The palace has dancers."

"Well, you must. All princesses are expected to be a good dancer. Not necessarily the best, but good enough to attract a crown prince," the elderly woman explained tiredly.

"I'm not doing it!" the girl glared at the elderly woman with her big, bright and clear eyes, "And I don't want to attract a crown prince!"

The elderly woman sighed again, no longer surprised at this very expected tantrum, "It doesn't necessarily has to be a crown prince, Your Highness, your mother already said that she wouldn't force that on you."

"That's one more thing, why do I still have to do this when mother's already in that sleep?" the girl got up on her feet and put her hands on her waist.

"Because the queen entrusted me to teach you how to dance. Even if she's asleep, I can't just shirk away my responsibility like-"

"Elanara damned your responsibility. I don't care!" she cried as she pushed open the thick oak door leading to the hallway.

"No, no! A royal lady must not say such crude things, princess."

"I am NOT a lady!" she said as she picked up her day-gown, "And I am NOT a princess!"

The elderly woman watched the girl storm off hugging her day-gown. As the princess passed by a maid, the maid shrieked at the princess' near nakedness and shuffled her away to one of the rooms. The moment the princess went out of view, the elderly woman fell onto one of the chairs tiredly.

She looked up at the crystal covered domed ceiling and sighed again. Even the glittering beauty provided by the lumination crystals failed to push away the thought that she had failed in her task. She closed her old eyes and whispered, "Your Majesty, I doubt I would be able to fulfill your wishes." Then she dozed off and dreamed that she said the same words to Her Majesty the Queen.

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The girl almost collided with a tall man wearing partial plate armor and carrying a short spear - a member of the palace guard as she rounded the corner.

The man was startled but made a smile as he noticed who it was and spoke loudly to the girl who was running farther along the corridor, "Princess Feska, please don't run in the corridors.

The girl placed her palms on both ears and continued running while shoutiing, "Shut up, shut up, shut up!"

It took her awhile before reaching her destination, as the corridor was long and the palace was big. She pushed open the large oak door with all her might, causing the doors to open quickly and hitting the wall in a loud boom, startling the two handmaidens in the large bedchamber.

One of the handmaidens gasped at seeing her and said, "Your Highness, Favored Princess, what are you doing here?"

Without looking at the maid who just spoke, she said, "I am going to be alone with the Queen Mother."

The maid looked horrified as she exclaimed, "But Your Highness, you should be in class now! Her Majesty's condition won't chance even if you come later in the evening, Your Highness."

The Favored Princess glared at the maid and said in an icy voice, or whatever a 14 year old girl can do that passes as an icy voice, "Who-Am-I?"

The maid withered under the Favored Princess' glare, "The Royal Highness, Favored Princess Feska, Your Highness."

"Is that not my mother?"

"It is, Your Highness."

"Am I not fourth in line to the throne?"

"Yes, Your Highness."

"Then get out!"

"As you wish, Your Highness," she bowed and turned to the door.

Just as she was about to open the door, the other maid who was following her whispered, "But I thought Her Majesty the Queen doesn't have a daughter?"

"Quiet you!" hushed the other one as she pulled the maid out.

Princess Feska approached the queen's bed as she heard the door close. She stopped when she was a foot away from the bed and started twirling around on her feet, causing the silk day-dress to flare around her. "What do you think, mother? The royal seamstress had just finished sewing it. Red suits me, don't you agree, mother? The seamstress said it doesn't work too well with my blonde hair though, but I just ignored her so it's fine."

The princess looked at the peacefully sleeping face of the queen and dropped to her knees next to the bed. The queen lay as if dead. But she wasn't dead, just sleeping. And none knew how to wake her up. The princess' bright amber eyes, almost the same color as her golden blonde hair started to shed a tear.

"Queen Mother, I ran away from my lesson again. I know you wanted me to study, to become a proper princess, but it's just so hard, mother. How can I learn things that normal girls learn as they grew up, when I'm not even a girl in the first place? I can't be a girl, mother, no matter how much you wanted it to be."

The princess crossed her arms on the bed, as the queen showed no sign of waking up. As her tears wetted the bed, she sobbed, "Mother, please come back. I don't want to be alone."

And with that, she cried herself to sleep.

*Sorry for not finishing The Half-Lilin. I have had a bit of problem with putting those in digital and decided to make a new series. Basically I'll be doing this one whenever I stumbled upon a red light in The Half Lilin. Don't worry, The Half Lilin will be continued.

Vel-Farnikk, capital of the mighty Granvayl Kingdom is a massive city. It is home to at least 4000 citizens, not including the children, immigrants and slaves. Some speculate that there would be many thousands more, if any census included children, immigrants, slaves and criminals. Crown or Tiara Chapter 2 By Shinieris

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Vel-Farnikk, capital of the mighty Granvayl Kingdom is a massive city. It is home to at least 4000 citizens, not including the children, immigrants and slaves. Some speculate that there would be many thousands more, if any census included children, immigrants, slaves and criminals.

Vel-Farnikk is a city of mighty walls, flourishing trade, magnificent temples and grand palaces. Its main religion is the worship of Elanara, Rorvik and Festiciol, with some minor deities being worshipped by minority groups. Some minor gods and goddesses currently being worshipped by denizens of Vel-Farnikk includes the Goddess of Trade Melilica, the God of Crafts Rathkann, the God of the Forge Arenochion, the God of the Watch Hestronacus and the Goddess of Fertility Saranechia. The goddess Elanara herself is the Goddess of Beauty and Refinement, worshipped mostly by women and young girls. The god Rorvik is the God of Perseverance and Virtue, worshipped mostly by warriors, soldiers and kings, as Rorvik is also the king of the gods after the dark god Vastramach's banishment. Festiciol is the God of Judgement and Penance in charge of the Underworld where souls go after their deaths and mostly worshipped by judges, governors and hermits.

The citizens live in multiple story houses, apartments that may fit up to 40 persons in each one. It was the landowners' job to build an apartment and to abide by building rules so accidents don't happen. The tenants then pay the landowners rent, while the landowners pay residential and land tax to the government. Vel-Farnikk owes its huge annual income to the flourishing trade, where merchants from all over the world gather at the grand marketplace in the merchants' quarter.

So great is Vel-Farnikk's wealth that the royal palace itself consists of six grand palaces, build in a cluster protected by a wall. The wall itself was made of fool's gold and marble which purpose was more ornamental than security.

As for the palace, the main palace, the Imperial Palace was the oldest building still standing in Vel-Farnikk. It was built during the reign of King Fevrinicus of the Feridican Dynasty over 500 years ago, when 'conquest' was the daily bread and butter of the royalty. The Imperial Palace was where the kings or the past emperors conduct policies, grant audience and the place where courtesans plot each other's downfall. Over time, it was expanded with towers and decorated with spires and flying buttresses.

The Gold Palace, built much later than the Imperial Palace was the residence of the king, and until recently, the queen as well. It was where the king read and design policies where he could not be disturbed. The policies will then be brought to the Imperial Palace, where the royal scribe would read it to the nobles and government officials before being decreed. It was speculated that the reason for the queen's abandonment of the Gold Palace was because she didn't feel right taking over her husband's palace.

Next to the Gold Palace, slightly to the rear is the Ruby Palace. In the past generations, it was home to the king's concubines and one of the places that the old kings frequented. It was also home to female courtesans of the 4th and 5th Tier. After the late king's death, his royal widow, Her Majesty, Queen Windi Festilla Talranic, born Windi Festilla Arnan, Countess of Baretha took over the Ruby Palace and chased out her late father in law's aging concubines and granted them a one-time compensation of 50 sovereigns, which many agreed to be fair. One of the towers of Ruby Palace is now also the residence of the royal pair's last child and only daughter, Her Royal Highness, Favored Princess Nefeskaya Falana Talranic, 4th in line to the throne and designated Countess of Baretha when she comes of age.

On the other side of the Imperial Palace, stood the Silver Palace, home to the crown princes of each generation. At the moment, it is home to His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Mikhalir Veren Talranic, 1st in line to the throne. His coronation was suspended, pending his return home from his studies abroad. His wereabouts were kept secret, even to the nobles of the realm, to minimize the risk of assasination. It was believed that the only people who knew where he was were the king, the queen, his royal siblings and the Lord Chancellor. Not even the Lord Protector who outranked all his royal escorts, had any idea where he was exactly.

The favored prince, also known as the second prince in most cases, lives in the Bronze Palace. The name came from a large bronze sculpture of two crossed swords placed above the front entrance. It wasn't just ornamental, it was symbolic of the second son's duty to always support, protect and sacrifice for the crown prince. That's pretty much a culture that is widely accepted in Vel-Farnikk since the assasination of King Wendeslaus the Second, second king of the Talranic Dynasty by his own stepbrother. If not for the sudden discovery of the 15 year old 3rd prince, Fridrick Lanas Talranic, the favored prince would've gotten away with it and become king. At the moment, it is home to Favoured Prince, Altherion Narhas Talranic, 2nd in line to the throne.

Far to the front of the Imperial Palace, stood the House of Banners. It was named so for the many banners that decorated the walls of the palace, both inside and outside. Each banner represents a noble house, whose representatives live there. It was made the residence of the royal princes, male courtesans and government officials, including the knights in charge of protecting the palace and the royal family since the day it was finished. The House of Banners is significantly larger than each of the palaces, with the exception of the Imperial Palace. The House of Banners doesn't have any towers, but it does have a large communal area and a small library, which doubles as a reading room. At the moment the House of Banners is home to the 3rd prince, His Royal Highness, Royal Prince Fridrich Hamdall. They say that he's antisocial and would only come out from his room during official events.

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The man wearing a black vest and had his black hair in a ponytail called for another tankard of Farnician Ale for the old man the moment he finished. He had a pleasant face and a winning smile, his body was lean and handsome and he knew how the girls loved him.

"Wow, you know a lot, grandpa," he said as the ale arrived and shoved it across the table to the old man's waiting hands.

"Would make a good story for your book, eh?" the old man said as he started draining the tankard into his throat.

"But how would you know so much about the royal family, grandpa?" the man asked.

"Mr. Seo, I had worked as a guard in the royal palace for 40 years. You don't work that long and not pick up certain secrets."

Mr. Seo leaned forward and whispered, "So the story just now was supposed to be a secret, grandpa?"

The old man guffawed loudly, drawing gazes from the other tables. He spoke loudly, unlike Seo, "Hell no! Those are common knowledge. Everyone knows about it if they bothered to read. Ah, except for the story about the favored princess, of course."

"What about the favored princess?" Seo asked, curious.

The old man took another gulp from the tankard, before he said, "One more!"

"Excuse me?" Seo countered wide-eyed.

"This!" the old man waved the tankard, "You can't expect me to tell you a secret without payment and another tankard of fine Farnician Ale."

Seo groaned inside at the old man's request. He had already bought the old man many tankards of the same ale. Personally, he was afraid that the old man would drop dead if he gave him anymore. Regardless, Seo waved the waitress for another tankard of Farnician Ale, and reached into his pouch.

"Would one sovereign be good, grandpa?" Seo said drawing a gold coin and put in in front of him on the table.

The old man eyed the coin, swallowed his spit and moved to take the coin. Seo covered the coin with his own hand and said, "First you tell me the secret, then you get the coin, grandpa."

The old man snorted gruffly, leaned forward and whispered, "Story goes that the favored princess doesn't exist. Don't know why they said so, I saw her plenty of time, ever since she was a child. I once took her home after she got lost in the garden in front of the palace."

"Doesn't exist? How can that be?" Seo wondered aloud.

The old man answered, the alcohol starting to affect his speech, "Prob'ly cuz she ne'er ventur'd out o' ta palace. Be'en too prote'ted, tha' un." Then his face dropped onto the table as he passed out from the alcohol.

Seo rubbed his face at the display. He then got up and discretely placed a gold coin into the old man's pocket. He then went to the waitress to cancel the order for a tankard of Farnician Ale and left the tavern. He had already discovered so much information.

"Doesn't exist, huh?" he said to himself as he walked away.

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Prince Altherion scratched his head. He was looking at the royal accounts, one of a list of hobbies he was trying to pick up. At this moment, he was totally baffled by the palace expenses.

Dinner for 50 sovereigns? he scratched his head again, What could cost so much, when commoners can survive with 5 commons a day?

In Granvayl, a piece of gold sovereign equals to 12 silver nobles. 1 silver noble equals to 20 copper common. A loaf of plain bread in the capital costs 6 coppers at most. In the slums. it can cost as low as 1 copper common, depending on the size of the loaf. So 50 sovereigns equals to 12,000 commons or 2400 loaves of bread.

Prince Altherion looked up when he heard knocks on the door. He closed the ledger and pushed it aside, making the center of his desk clear again.

"Come in," he said loudly.

The door opened and in came a distinguished-looking man in his 20s. He stood at almost 6 feet tall and has a proud air about him. He stopped 5 feet away from the prince's desk and bowed with his right arm crossed on his chest. From the designs of his crest, he appeared to be a noble of the Valtiste family. The Valtiste family are the barons that are in charge of the Barony of Filcimont, a fertile land in the east, commonly known for being the place where one can find any herb that they'd want. For that reason alone, sale of herbs from Filcimont was the barony's biggest business.

According to Granvayl law, a barony cannot be inherited, except by another baron. So successors of each Valtiste generation often had to make an effort to impress the kings so that they'd get to keep their family land. This man was among the most ambitious and capable of the current generation of the Valtiste family, and the family believed that he would be the one that has the best chance of becoming a baron.

"Is something the matter, Sir Reyn?" the prince asked.

"Your Highness, Favoured Prince, your sister skipped her classes again just now. Lady Maribell, her dancing tutor has already given me her resignation letter," the proud looking Sir Reyn said, his face cold and unreadable.

"Again?" the Favored Prince, Prince Altherion threw his hands in the air. "That's six since the Queen Mother fell ill. Just find a new one. It can't be that hard to find a good tutor."

"She had the best tutors, Your Highness, but she didn't seem to want to learn. Rumor has it that even the most motivated tutors would be depressed after a few hours with her," Sir Reyn answered.

"It can't be that bad. She can't be that bad," the prince countered.

"I have talked with Lady Maribell. I asked her that she be patient for a while longer, but she said she'd only stay until we can find someone else. She made it pretty clear that she expected this 'someone' to be found quickly. On another related news, I've found a replacement for Sir Etroch, he is on his way here as we speak."

"Good, just give Lady Maribell a raise," the prince said as he turned around to look at the garden below, "I'll approve of higher wages for her tutors. Just... settle this before my brother arrives."

"It shall be done, Your Highness,"

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The girl woke up when she heard someone calling her name. She had fallen asleep crying for her mother, her face bruised from contact with the queen's bedsheet. She looked out the window and saw that it was already dark outside. Even the room she was in was dark and she was finding it hard to see her own hands.

"Your Highness, Princess Feska, may your servant come in?" came a couple more knocks.

"Yes, yes," the princess answered weakly, "Just open the door."

She heard the creak of the door and the sudden gasp of the queen's handmaiden," Elanara's grace! What are you doing in the dark, Your Highness?"

Princess Feska dropped her head back into her crossed arms on the bed, ignoring the maid. She just wanted to sleep, wake up from this nightmare. A nightmare where her father was dead and her mother was in a deep sleep.

The maid fussed about behind her, lighting oil lamps and climbing stools so she could open the light shutters. As the shutters opened, light shone out of them, like the focused light from a lighthouse. As the light shone onto a lumination crystal, it glowed, spreading its light all around, hitting other lumination crystals which glowed in turn. In the speed of light, the whole bedchamber turned bright with oil lamps being the odd yellow light.

"Princess," the maid spoke softly, "You should go back to your own tower. You need to wake up early tomorrow."

Princess Feska ignored the maid and continued feigning sleep. That was until the maid covered her back with the queen's spare blanket. "You shouldn't fall sick tomorrow, Princess."

Princess Feska turn around so suddenly it would have startled the maid, if she didn't know that the princess was faking sleep. "Lady Frenia, what going to happen tomorrow? What's so important?"

"Oh, nobody has told you yet, Your Highness?"

"Told me what?"

"About your brother?"

"What? Therion built a city overnight and tomorrow is the day of rejoicing his greatness?"

The maid looked like she was about to laugh, she was already covering the laugh with a smile. "I suppose not then," she said once she managed to fight the urge to laugh, "Anyway, a messenger arrived this morning, bringing news that your brother, the crown prince, had arrived at the nearby town of Lenar. He was expected to arrive at the gates of the capital tomorrow at noon.

"Mikhal is coming home? But why now? Why didn't he return before my father died on the battlefield? Why didn't he return after that? Tell me this, Lady Frenia!"

"I don't know, Your Highness. Perhaps it's something you should ask the crown prince yourself."

*As always feedbacks are very appreciated. Mails are equally appreciated.

The second king of the Talranic Dynasty, King Wendeslaus the Second (circa 1208-1211 AF), also known as Wendeslaus Berto Talranic, was an eccentric king. During his reign, he made hundreds of designs, of which most of them were useless, more fantasy than practical. If his personal motto of "Bridge, bridge, bridge" wasn't hint enough of his eccentricities, perhaps his idea of making a city that flies in the sky might... Crown or Tiara Chapter 3 By Shinieris

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The second king of the Talranic Dynasty, King Wendeslaus the Second (circa 1208-1211 AF), also known as Wendeslaus Berto Talranic, was an eccentric king. During his reign, he made hundreds of designs, of which most of them were useless, more fantasy than practical. If his personal motto of "Bridge, bridge, bridge" wasn't hint enough of his eccentricities, perhaps his idea of making a city that flies in the skies might.

King Wendeslaus was a weak king, relying only on his royal blood and his birthright to rule. By merit, his stepbrother, the Favored Prince, Prince Bhaklar Morani Talranic was more fit to rule. Prince Bhaklar excelled in each of his studies, he devised practical ways for farmers to increase their produce and he by himself settled the dispute between Count Mares of Tesledhar and Count Felner of Naritath. He had also proposed a system of taxing that will not burden the nobles and commoners.

Excerpt from "10 Reasons Why Prince Bhaklar Should Be King" by Kellen Boress, published in the Granvayl Speaker 2 months after King Wendeslaus the Second's death

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Seo was walking along the King's Road when he heard the sounds of thunder from an alley to his right. He looked into the alley and some sparks went off in the dimly lit alley at the same time the sounds of thunder returned. He then heard some yelling and shouting, and decided to go into the dark alley and investigate. He knew it was the total opposite of what the average person should do, but he wasn't an average person, at least that was what he told himself.

As Seo came closer, he heard one of the men say, "Alright, keep the rest in watertight containers and seal it in wax until tomorrow."

Seo leaned on the wall, listening in when another man spoke, "But why must we test it again? This is the third time since this thing arrived."

"Because we don't want any problem tomorrow. What if we light it up and nothing happens? People will stand there waiting for the firecrackers that never lights up, and they'll just watch the prince pass by while still waiting for the firecrackers to go off. Then they'll blame us, or specifically, me! Can you imagine the shame?"

"Yes, awkward," said another.

"Oh fine! You're the boss. I'll just go get the wax."

So it's the prince's welcoming committee, huh? I guess it's true that the crown prince is coming home, Seo thought as he rubbed his chin, Well, got nothing to do with me anyhow.

Seo got out of the dimly lit alley and walked back to the inn he was staying in, The Gentle Songs.

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Prince Altherion strode determinedly towards a building made of white marbles and crimson rocks. Its windows, roofs, doors and lightshutters were lined with silver which, even now was being polished to a mirror-like sheen by the skeleton crew that still remained after the queen fell asleep. Prince Altherion paused at the steps, suddenly feeling uncertainty. Did he really have the right to enter, when he had been ignoring the place since the queen went asleep?

He shook his head, closed his eyes and started counting. The moment he counted to one hundred, he opened his eyes and took the first step, then the second step, before the third step. By the time he took the 12th step, he no longer had any problem with walking into the queen's residence.

He went straight up to the 8th floor, where the queen now lay as if dead. As he climbed the circular staircase, he looked down through the hollow center at the concourse below, thinking of how far he was from the ground. The staircase wasn't even a staircase actually. It was a circular walkway that looked like a circular staircase until one actually walked on it. It had thin strips of timber nailed to the floor at regular intervals, supposedly installed during the reign of King Thobin Bafias Talranic to allow his wheelchair to rest at the points of his choosing, on his way to the rooms of his favorite concubine. He preferred to wheel himself to the 4th floor than to have his escorts do so for him. King Thobin Bafias was a very cautious, some say paranoid old man.

The Favored Prince stood in front of the queen's room, unsure of what he should do. Despite being the Favored Prince, second only to his elder brother, he could actually count on his fingers how many times he had been inside the queen's bedchamber, even including the time when the queen still lived in the Gold Palace. He noted that the only one who spent time regularly in there was his sister.

Thinking about his sister annoyed him. He met his sister when he was about 12. He was 19 now, 2 years younger than his brother, the crown prince, who had left for studies abroad when Altherion was only 13. Even meeting her then was accidental.

He was sitting at the gazebo, reading a book on the use of alchemy in warfare when a small waif of a girl jumped out from the bushes next to him and knocked him over. He never knew why she looked afraid when she had a good look at him, but at that point he was about to berate her for not being careful and was about to ask her to tell him who her parents were. That was until he heard a familiar voice calling the name 'Feska'. It was his mother, crawling out of the bushes with mud and dirt on her fine velvet dress. The same mother who would fuss about his unkempt condition and wrinkle her nose at his dirty pants after a day of playing. She had on her face the happiest of smiles the likes he had never seen before, the likes of which he had never been shown all his life. Sure, he had seen his mother smile before, even laugh, but he knew it was all fake. It was hollow, cynical, unlike this happy and lively smile his mother had for a girl he had never met.

She looked alarmed at seeing him. He recalled that she was looking back and forth between him and the girl, who looked like she was thinking of running away. Then his mother called the girl, took her hand and told her to curtsy for her older brother. Needless to say, he was beyond shocked.

This was when the king, Altherion's father was still alive. Why his parents refused to make his sister's existence public, he had no idea. Yes, she appeared on official functions, normally towing after the queen, but not as much as she should. Ever since the Queen Mother died, she hasn't appeared at any official event, much to his annoyance. He had to answer questions after questions on the whereabouts of his fair sister by counts, countesses, barons, dukes, and even representatives from other kingdoms. Just the other day the 3rd son of Lord Merrick from the House of Hestor asked him if Princess Feska would be attending the crown prince's homecoming. He told the boy that he would ask her, and left it at that. His sister was quite the popular one, despite supposedly being a royal secret.

He looked at the door of the queen's bedroom. Exhaling, he placed his hand on the knob and turned it before he lost his resolve. His voice boomed, "NEFESKAYA!" at the same time the door opened.

Princess Feska jumped on her place when she heard the boom from the loud voice. When she saw that it was none other than her brother, she relaxed and gazed up upon the queen's peacefully sleeping face.

"Nefeskaya!" Prince Altherion cried again, only slightly softer this time.

"Yes, Therion, I heard you the first time. Why are you so formal out of a sudden?" she said tiredly.

"If I am really formal, I would've called your full name and locked you up in your tower soon after!" the prince fumed.

"Okay... what's this about, oh Favored Brother?"

"None of that attitude with me. You skipped your classes again!"

"So what, dear brother? I skipped my classes all the time."

"Maybe you haven't heard yet, that's certainly suspect since you didn't go to your classes for the whole day, but our crown brother will be coming home tomorrow."

"And... somehow that's making your problems bigger and you're taking it up on me instead?"

"You're my problem, Feska! What will Mikhal say when he found out that I couldn't manage the education of one little sister?"

"Oh, get real, Therion. Our crown brother doesn't even know that I exist. Your secret is safe with me," the princess said as she patted her flat chest.

"But your secret is not," he said flatly and without emotion.

Blood started to boil in the princess' head, all very evident through the angry flush in her face. "Don't you dare, Altherion. You don't know what I'll do."

"A threat works when the opponent imagines the worst possible ways that you may retaliate. At the moment, I doubt anything you do would scare, let alone harm me."

"Oh? Maybe I'll tell Lady Myra that you're a lousy husband. Bet she won't like you as much then."

The prince laughed until his eyes water.

The princess looked annoyed and said, "Don't you think you should laugh outside and let mother rest. Your laughter disturbs me, if not mother."

"But..." the prince rubbed at his watery eyes," That's all you can come up with? Two things that ensures if will never work. One, you only just met her and you played together for a week. A week! Two, I have never been married, so how can you convince her that I'll be a bad husband?"

"I'll think of something," she sulked.

"He needs to know, Feska. It is not fair for us to keep it from him."

"What's not fair is how he never came to visit since the time he left for the University at Lestraux."

"He will find out sooner or later, Feska. I think he'd like it better hearing from us instead of some of the nobles who only plot his downfall."

"No! If he finds out, so be it! But we..." she gestured at the prince and herself,"... are not going to tell him."

"You know, the price for my silence is quite high, dear Favored Sister.

Princess Feska made a frown which somehow added more character to her doll-like face. You want a bribe now? That's not what the Favored Prince is supposed to do."

Prince Altherion crossed his arms and raised his chin. It suddenly reminded the princess how others had remarked that she looked like her brothers when trying to show defiance. Now she knew exactly what they meant. Her older brother, Prince Mikhalir used to make this very same posture and very same facial expression before he left.

"Fine!" she said, "What do you want?"

Prince Altherion made a satisfied smirk which grew with every passing second. It seemed like his 'bribe' would be a big one. Princess Feska suddenly regretted surrendering to her big brother.

"You..." he gestured to his sister, "...are going to attend the welcoming ceremony tomorrow and speak with everyone who approached you."

"Everyone?" the princess asked, horrified.

"Everyone," the prince nodded.

"THAT'S INSANE!" she cried, then looking at the sleeping queen, she said softly, "Sorry mother."

"What's so insane about it?"

"Well, for one, their topic of conversation would be so inane, so complicated, it would bore me to tears."

"That's why you're supposed to attend your Decorum class, which to my knowledge, you have skipped regularly."

"You mean the class that taught me how to make a poker face, how to laugh at a totally boring joke and how to smile at the person I hate?"

"Yes, that's the one."

"Ridiculous! I don't want to be a fake like you and apparently everyone in the palace."

"Well, that's neither here nor there. The time to practice has passed. You will attend tomorrow and that's final."

"But... what if those old counts and barons talked about introducing me to their sons again?"

"If that is so, then you are obliged to humor them, unless of course you have the skill to turn them down without offending them."

"But... what if they started talking about betrothal or marriage? Did you know that yesterday that creepy lord-ling from the House of Hestor got in my way and asked if I'd be willing to visit his family home near Rhatica?"

"So what did you do?" the prince asked with concern.

"What in Elanara's name do you think I did? I ran," she said, much to her annoyance when the Favored Prince started laughing.

"Okay, so you see, I can't be there," she said.

"You have to be there, Feska. What will I say if they asked me where my beautiful little sister is?"

"Tell them I died. Tell them you sent me to a convent. Or maybe I suddenly decided to take up the spear and go kill some dragons - wait, you think I'm beautiful?" she said, her porcelain skin getting red.

Prince Altherion snorted, "You're my sister."

"That means?"

"Exactly what it meant," Prince Altherion said, as he turned around and crossed the room towards the door.

"Hey! Therion!" Princess Feska ran and grabbed Prince Altherion's hand with both of hers, "I don't want to go tomorrow."

"Oh, you will be there tomorrow, Feska. Even if I have to drag you in your nightgown."

"You wouldn't dare," Princess Feska said as she let go of the prince's hand.

Prince Altherion fixed his sleeve and said, "Oh, try me, Feska," before he turned around and left through the door.

"This is NOT over, brother," the princess said through gritted teeth.

The prince suddenly poked his head through the still open door and said, "Wear your new gown. The green one, I think. This red one doesn't flatter you."

Princess Feska's answer was to throw one of the small, innocent flower vase at her brother.

*Gosh, this is a long story... As always, comments and feedbacks are highly appreciated.

... Queen Windi Festilla, Countess of Baretha, was not born with royal blood. Her ancestors, the famed sages from the east, gained their title through sheer force of will and great determination. The most significant of these was the Battle of Shattered Plains, which facilitated the end of the War of Holy Blood. The Battle of Shattered Plains had become a textbook case of how alchemical potions can win a battle and is taught in most military schools throughout Sidar, including in Orin, whose soldiers was on the receiving end of this formidable tactic. Hundreds of Thunderbolt and Darkness potions were thrown or planted indiscriminately on the battlefield, trapping those Orinians foolish or brave enough to march forward. Although reputedly exaggerated, records mentioned that only 26 out of 31 Arnan family members died and 237 militias fell or went missing. At the same time, Orinian casualty was estimated at over 3000 soldiers and officers, either cause by Thunderbolt potions or arrows treated with Trueflight... Crown or Tiara Chapter 4 By Shinieris

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Queen Windi Festilla Talranic, born Windi Festilla Arnan (Summer 1407AF - ?) was a queen loved by her people. After her husband's death in the War of Contested Forest, she took over the reins of the government and declared herself Queen Regent of the kingdom.

Queen Windi Festilla, Countess of Baretha, was not born with a royal blood. Her ancestors, the famed sages from the east, gained their title through sheer force of will and great determination. The most significant of these was the Battle of Shattered Plains, which facilitated the end of the War of Holy Blood. The Battle of Shattered Plains had become a textbook case of how alchemical potions can win a battle and is taught in most military schools throughout Sidar, including in Orin, whose soldiers was on the receiving end of this formidable tactic. Hundreds of Thunderbolt and Darkness potions were planted indiscriminately on the battlefield, trapping those Orinians foolish or brave enough to march forward. Although reputedly exaggerated, records mentioned that only 26 out of 31 Arnan family members died and 237 militias fell or went missing. At the same time, Orinian casualty was estimated at over 3000 soldiers and officers, either cause by Thunderbolt potions or arrows treated with Trueflight.

Perhaps the most astonishing fact about the Arnan family was their choice of fief granted to them. Instead of the common choice of ruling over a fertile valley or a prosperous port country, the Arnans chose the cracked and ravaged land of Baretha, where the Battle of Shattered Plains took place.

Baretha was a land of volcanoes, deep mines, flowing lava and all sorts of nasty things. Plant-life and fauna are rare and sparse, while those that do grow in Baretha, covering only the southern part of the fief, was very strong and resistant to heat. Each of these plantlife could also withstand direct flames and as such are near impossible to set on fire. Barethan oak timbers were much in demand as lacquerware, light shields, light armor and fire-resistant doors. Despite that, however, Barethan oak aren't the county's biggest export. It was actually the sale of alchemical potions and ingredients that make up the bulk of the county's economy.

Excerpt from 'Queen Windi Talranic and the Arnans: The Queen That Wasn't Royal and Outsiders That Became Nobles' by Adrinn Erethis.

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The boy grabbed his tunic and put it on. He couldn't sleep much last night and had woken up early this morning.. His hair was a rather long golden blonde, and he was at this moment, tying it in a tight ponytail behind his head.

A knock on the door and a maid came into the room. When she saw the boy, she was horrified. "What are you trying to do, Princ-"

"Say my name and you'll be executed tomorrow. It's been so long since I'm out. I'm just going to attend the welcoming ceremony anyway."

"But, Princ-"

"Do I have to repeat myself, lady? Want to die before getting married?"

"Oooh! Do it your way, then, oh Royal Prince!" the maid said as she stormed off.

The prince calmly put on a velvet vest on his body while wondering aloud, "What wrong with her?"

-----

Prince Fridrick stood on the rooftop of the Imperial Palace, looking down at the gateway connecting the palace complex with the rest of the city. From afar, he could still hear the sound of firecrackers going off and could even see firecrackers that shot up to the air and bloomed like flowers in the sky. Even though the crown prince was no longer there, citizens still celebrated, with songs, drums and more firecrackers.

No such luck here. The prince thought as he looked at the dignified nobles and palace servants, who stood erect and proud along the main palace road connecting the front gate to the Imperial Palace. There was not a single sound to be heard. If he didn't know better, he would say that he was at a funeral.

The sudden sounding of horns, followed by a tune of trumpets and drums from the palace musicians startled him. As with everyone, he craned his neck trying to see the crown prince, who had just arrived at the palace gate. There was nothing to see, at least not yet, as the prince was still riding under the portcullis and would not be seen from above until he rode a 20 feet further in.

Then the trumpets and drums changed tune. Instead of the 'Welcome Tune 22' just now, they now played 'Wise Heroic King' which was only played upon the king's arrival.

Heh! Already a king now, huh? He thought as rows upon rows of the crown prince's escort marched in ahead of the prince.

It wasn't long before the crown prince himself march through the front gate and into the palace compound. The palace servants stood in front and bowed to the prince, as he rode pass, while the nobles, who stood farther along the palace road clapped their hands and and threw petals to the crown prince and his escorts. Despite looking refined and composed, the crown prince couldn't help himself from waving back at the people he passed by. Prince Fridrick on the other hand, couldn't help but push himself forward so he could see the brother he hadn't seen since he was 6.

He noted that the crown prince looked magnificent, riding in his pale horse, that looked even more magnificent than his escorts. He was clad in a resplendent ceremonial robe, made of white velvet, laced with gold and silver threads, decorated with jewels of all color on the shoulders and the chest. He radiants in the afternoon sun, the sunshine reflect by the jewels on his robe and horse made him look like the god Rorvik coming home after banishing the dark god Vastramach.

Prince Fridrick saw his brother dismount as he neared the steps leading to the Imperial Palace. He saw his brother climbed the long steps, never once showing any signs of fatigue. Prince Fridrick, having been living in the palace since he was born, knew that there was actually another entrance on the side, one with flatter slope which allows one to ride a horse directly into the Imperial Palace. He understood however that formal functions require an amount of elegance, amply provided by the main steps that was lined with silver and gold, flanked on both sides by tall vayl columns with the flags of every noble family in Granvayl in between each.

Awaiting the crown prince's arrival at the top of the steps, were the Favored Prince and his retinue of noblemen and government officials. Prince Fridrick noted the tense expression on Prince Altherion's face, probably wondering the same thing he did. How had Mikhal changed?"

"Greetings, my royal brother," Prince Mihalir said, his voice loud and clear even to Prince Fridrick on the rooftop, "It is good to see you safe and sound. Favored Brother. Tell me, how has the kingdom been in my absence?"

The Favored Prince, Prince Altherion nodded slightly, "The kingdom is doing well, Crown Brother, but we can definitely benefit from your enlightened wisdom," Prince Altherion said as he dropped to one knee, followed by the noblemen and government officials.

"Pray rise, my Favored Brother and all the loyal subjects of Granvayl," he said, "should we proceed to the king's study?"

"Thank you, Crown Brother, you are most kind," he said as before he moved to stand up.

The crown prince studied each of the faces in front of him. He creased his brows before saying, "Favored Brother, would you tell me which of them is Prince Fridrick? I must confess, I have..." he trailed off the moment he saw odd looks and whispers among the noble and how his brother rolled his eyes skyward.

He squinted his eyes at his brother. "Has something happened to Frid, Therion? Something you don't want to tell me?"

"No! Nothing's wrong with him-"

"FRID!" the crown prince shouted from the top of his lungs, his voice, loud and commanding, spread and reverberated across the palace compound, "By my right as your future king, I command you to appear NOW!"

"Please, Mikhal, not here," Prince Altherion pulled on Prince Mikhalir's arm, "This is not the place or time, I'll explain when we're inside."

The crown prince turned back towards his brother. "You better do so, Favored Brother, or you will find that even royalties can be punished," he paused and his next word made Prince Altherion's heart stop, "Severely."

"I shall accept whatever punishment you deem necessary, Crown Brother, but please, let me explain first," Prince Altherion said as he gestured the crown prince inside.

Prince Frid gasped loudly when he fell on his bottom while hiding behind the gargoyle on the roof. He almost had a heart attack when his brother called his name so loudly. Then he made a smile, as it made him recall how his brother was like before he left for Lestraux.

Mikhal always liked me best. Even when he had lessons all day, he would find time to play with me. I think if he becomes king, with Therion by his side, the palace would have been a great place to live in, he thought as he closed his eyes and was about to doze off when a familiar voice brought him back to consciousness.

"Good day, Your Highness. That really was something, yes?" said a handsome young man, wearing iron breastplate and tabard with the House of Hestor coat of arms.

"What do you want?" he said with disdain while watching the lordling with an open eye.

"Sir Telvian, Your Highness, son of Lord Merrick of Rhatican," he said as he bowed his head, "I know you don't know me, but I must ask you something, Your Highness."

Of course I know you, the prince thought, You're the one who kept hounding Feska!

"Ask then," he closed his eyes again. He knew he shouldn't be mad at this man. Afterall, it was this man and his father that rallied the king's scattered militias and soldiers after the disaster that killed the king. By doing so, they prevented Rhatican from being taken over by the H'loren elves at the end of the War of Contested Forest. At that time, this man standing in front of him was only 14 and already fighting in the front lines, at a time when he was only a child bored in class.

"Have you seen Princess Feska, Your Highness? I have an urgent matter that needs to be discussed with the Favored Princess."

If this is about getting Feska to go to his family's home again, I'm going to throw up, the prince thought. Prince Fridrick knows he shouldn't get mad at this man, but he found it very hard to control himself from drawing steel and shoving it into this man's stomache. He can be so annoying.

Without opening his eyes, the prince said, "Yes, I just saw her going to the Forbidden Garden just now."

"Thank you, thank you so much, Your Highness," he said as he left in a hurry.

He grinned. Heh! What a fool. There's a reason it's called Forbidden Garden.

"Are you sure Feska's in the Forbidden Garden, Frid?"

Prince Fridrick opened both eyes as his two brothers walked towards him.

"Yes," he replied, "I saw her going there with Lady Frenia."

Prince Altherion creased his brows, an indication of disbelieve, coming from him, "That's strange, because we just walked past Lady Frenia in the hallway. She was walking in the opposite direction."

"Ah! Feska must have ditched her when she went to play. Not my problem. Though why are you both here? It's a long way to walk."

"Obviously because Mikhal wants to see you," Prince Altherion huffed.

"Right, because you just loved visiting me everyday."

"It's NOT my fault that you shut yourself in your room all day, every day. Whenever I went to visit, your attendant won't let me in, even on pains of death."

"Therion, please," Prince Mikhalir said as he stepped forward.

"And what, pray tell, would my celebrated Crown Brother wish to see me for?"

"Frid, it's been a long time," he said gently, before pouncing on his brother like a man possessed.

"Eeek!" squealed Prince Fridrick as the crown prince tackled him to the floor while hugging him tightly.

"Ahh, little brother, such a long time, and not a single hug for your beloved brother? Oh my, you're still as cute and as soft as the day I left," he said to his brother, whose head only reached his broad chest.

"Let go of me, you pervert brother!" Prince Fridrick said as he pushed the crown prince away with all his might. He had forgotten that his brother was very physical when they were younger.

Actually, he may not even be able to push his much bigger brother, if not for the sudden help from Prince Altherion, who was pulling his brother's mantle with one hand. "Please behave yourself, brother. You're not a child anymore and we're in a public place," he said.

"Hahaha," Prince Mikhalir laughed as he rubbed the place on his stomache that his little brother pushed, "What's wrong? You used to love cuddling."

"Lies! I never did such things!" Prince Fridrick said as he put his palms on his ears.

"Actually, I do remember that happening, a lot," Prince Altherion said.

"LIES!!!" Prince Fridrick cried. He ran down the stairway with his palms still on his ears.

Prince Mikhalir asked once he stopped laughing, "Before I forgot, who's Feska?"

Prince Altherion blanched at that question. "Errr..."

*Comments and feedbacks are always appreciated. Please feel free to say you like it or not, or your suspicions to the future of the story.

It's our first omake! Crown or Tiara Chapter 4 Omake By Shinieris

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"I'm so glad that you've decided to join the welcoming feast, princess," Lady Frenia said as she put another layer of petticoat onto the princess' already bulging hips.

"Well, I don't have a choice, do I?" the princess said as she tried to smoothen the ruffles in her petticoat with her two hands, to no effect.

"Is Prince Altherion the only reason you're going, Your Highness?"

"Of course! That insensitive prick is the only one who can make my life miserable. I don't want to be miserable - uff!" she said as she got choked by the corset that Lady Frenia was tightening.

Lady Frenia tightened the length of string that kept the layers of petticoat together and held the petticoat at the princess' small waist. "So it's not because of the crown prince?"

"Of course not! Besides, I have already seen him today. Seeing him again serves no purpose whatsoever," she objected as she raised both arms.Lady Frenia pulled a dark green velvet dress laced with gold and decorated with jewels and gems onto the princess' corsetted body. "But he's your brother, Your Highness," she argued.

"He doesn't even know that he has a sister. He'll just ignore me," the princess said as Lady Frenia laced up her gown.

"But you're so pretty-"

"You're pretty too, Lady Frenia, but do you think he will even spare an eye for you?"

Lady Frenia giggled. "But I'm not a princess."

"Well, in his eyes, I'm nobody - ooff!"

"You're his sister," Lady Frenia said as she tightened the laces at the princess' back.

"Yes, but he doesn't know he has a sister - OWW! Lady Frenia, it's too tight!" the princess protested as she drew in a breath.

"Oh please, you're not a baby girl anymore, Your Highness," she argued, but allowed the laces to get looser before she tied it into a ribbon.

"Anyhow, Prince Altherion told the crown prince that you're the fourth princess of the Kingdom of Veggida," Lady Frenia said casually.

"Fourth princess! That makes me the daughter of King Vorik Strongblade. And I don't want large curls."

"Second daughter, to be precise, Your Highness. Anyway, large curls is high fashion now."

"That's so stupid! What had compelled him to do so?"

"Oh... I don't know. Maybe it's because you told Prince Altherion not to tell the crown prince who you are?" Lady Frenia said as she reached for the handle of a heated curling tong.

"When did I do that? And did I not tell you that I don't want large curls in my hair?"

"Back in Her Majesty's bedchamber, princess," Lady Frenia said as she ignored the princess' objections by wrapping the princess' golden blonde hair around the heated curling tong.

"How in Elanara's name did you hear about that?"

"The palace may not have eyes, but it does have ears," Lady Frenia giggled as she put more of the princess' hair around heated curling tongs.

"It's a good thing that Veggidan representative won't be coming. That would be terribly hard to explain," the princess said as she relaxed.

"No? But a carriage along with escorts bearing the flag of Veggida arrived through the main gate just now."

"WHAT?!!!"

*Thanks for all of you who read my work and supported me these couple of years.

The 'Burning of Rhatica' marked a significant turning point in Granvayl's campaign into H'loren lands. The city of Rhatica, previously the trading town called Sassara, was originally part of a H'loren elves' greater territory. Its inhabitants were once servants of the evil woodland elves for over 200 years, until the War of Contested Forest erupted and they saw the light that they thought they would be forever denied. Crown or Tiara Chapter 5 By Shinieris

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The 'Burning of Rhatica' marked a significant turning point in Granvayl's campaign into H'loren lands. The city of Rhatica, previously the trading town called Sassara, was originally part of a H'loren elves' greater territory. Its inhabitants were once servants of the evil woodland elves for over 200 years, until the War of Contested Forest erupted and they saw the light that they thought they would be forever denied.

King Athista Razen Talranic, late king of the Kingdom of Granvayl, answered the plea for help by the wretched people of Rhatica. He quickly marshalled a force of 1000 spearmen and 600 archers before drawing a mixed force of 2000 strong from Duke Arlas' army. The army marched day and night to free the city, stopping only once outside Trikas, a farming town north of Rhatica, to rest and resupply.

The army continued the march the next day. From afar, they could see the towering smoke from the flames that was burning Rhatica to the ground. The
army, not wanting to waste any time, broke into a run to save the people of Rhatica, only to be ambushed on the main road to Rhatica. Over 3000 Granvaylian men died that day, including King Athista himself.

This major loss also halted Granvaylian advance into H'loren lands, leading to an unspoken truce between the Human Kingdom of Granvayl and the H'loren elves.

Excerpt from 'War of Contested Forest: The Compilation'.

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"As I told you time and time again, I have an invitation!" Seo said to the guard in front of him. He was at the main gate of the royal palace of Vel-Farnikk. He had arrived at the castle gate late after noon, and he had been at that same exact spot until dawn, trying to convince the guard that he was expected. At this moment, he was slowly losing patience.

"And I have also told you time and time again, no one enters the palace," the guard countered unmoved.

"Look, I've been waving this..." he waved a piece of paper in front of the guard's face, "...for so many times, I think the paper has already started to turn into dust. You've read it too, does this look like a fake?"

"As I said, no one enters the palace," the guard said, standing stiffly and with a tone of impatience.

"And why in Vastramach's pit is that so?"

The guard's tone turned rough. "You would do well to avoid mentioning the dark god's name in Vel-Farnikk, Mr. Seo. We are all religious people and hearing the dark god's name mentioned so freely is an assault on our beliefs."

"Alright, I'm sorry about that. But still, can't you at least tell me why I can't go in?"

"It's the crown prince's welcoming feast. All official matters for today are cancelled, by order of the favoured prince. Now go, come back tomorrow," the guard said as he shooed Seo with a gesture of his hand.

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"Urgh," Princess Feska grumbled at the sight of so many guests in the Great Hall. She was wearing the dark green dress she was forced into, and her hair was extensively styled by Lady Frenia. As a result, she could feel the large curls at the sides of her face tickling her as she walked.

While the original Great Hall in the Imperial Palace was much smaller, later dynasties had improved it, either by annexing the nearby rooms or by making additions to it. King Athista Razen, the late king, connected the Great Hall with both the Gold Palace and the Silver Palace, through the addition of two staircases at the sides. Each of these staircases led to the highest floor of the Gold Palace and the Silver Palace respectively.At the moment, the princess was standing at the bottom of the staircase leading to the Gold Palace. She was looking into the Great Hall and suddenly felt very afraid. She slowly inched backward.

She was stopped from retreating any further by a pair of hands on her back. "Where do you think you're going, Your Highness?" The princess turned around, edging to the left, but she was stopped from running away when Lady Frenia blocked her route.

"Don't even think about running away, Your Highness," Lady Frenia smiled with her eyes closed, "I took great pains in ensuring that your hair looks perfect for this occasion.

"But Lady Frenia..." the princess whined with a glance at the Great Hall behind her, "There's A LOT of people in there!"

"Of course, Your Highness, it is your brother's welcoming feast after all. But do remember, when the crown prince ascended the throne, he will be expecting a lot more of your presence," Lady Frenia said as she took the princess along an adjoining hallway.

"Thanks to Therion, he thinks I'm King Vorik Strongblade's daughter. Why would Mikhal want to see me then?" the princess asked as she was led along to another, bigger entrance.

"Oh, you didn't know?" Lady Frenice said as the princess shook her head.

"Not only are you King Vorik Strongblade's second daughter, but you're also Prince Fridrick Hamdall's bethrothed."

"WHAT?!!!" Princess Feska exclaimed, drawing odd looks from passersby.

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"The arrival of, Princess Nefeskaya Falana Talranic, Favored Princess of Granvayl," the palace crier announced.

"Princess," said a knight in shining breastplate and bracers who was bowing with his right arm on his chest.

"Nice to see you here, Duke Rashtall," the princess smiled, and in her heart, she said, I can do this, I can do this. "How goes the army of the west?"

"Disciplined and ready to take down any of the crown's foes, Your Highness," the duke banged on his breastplate with his steel bracer.

"Good day, Your Highness," curtsied an elderly lady with lots and lots of jewelry on her self.

"Good day to you too, umm..."

"Baroness Mirin of Ikreet, Your Highness," the elderly lady curtsied again, apparently unaffected by the fact that the princess had no idea who she were.

The princess nodded. "Ah right, pleasure to meet you, Baroness Mirin."

"The pleasure is all-" the old baroness was interrupted when a man in flamboyant shirt with peacock feathers and a hat apparently covered in swan feathers pushed her aside.

"Count Virtis, Your Highness. I am in charge of the reconstruction of the Imperial Way."

"Count Virtis, good to see you here," the princess nodded.

"Yes yes, everyone loves to see me," he said with an air of arrogance, "Oh and since you're here, I have a favor to ask of you, Your Highness."

"A favor?"

"Yes, can you please persuade the favored prince to cut me some slack? It's bad enough to have to actually pay slaves for carrying slabs of marbles. Now I can't even make curves for the Imperial Way, or make roads that are steeper than 20 degrees."

"I don't think I-"

"Please, Your Highness, the prince is being unreasonable," Count Virtis said as he was also shoved aside by a man in a somewhat normal court clothing.

"Your Highness-" he was also shoved aside by another man.

"Good evening-"

"How do you do-" came a voice from her left.

"Pleased-" came a voice from her right.

"Enchante-" she had no idea where that voice came from.

The princess' head spun at the seeing the throng of nobles and officials surrounding her. She noticed that the longer she was there, the more people came and crowded around her. She knew she should escape, but she was already surrounded. The princess was starting to hyperventilate.

"Pardon me. I'll be borrowing the princess for a while," said a voice that broke through the noise around the princess. A moment later, she felt someone grab her hand and pulled her out of the crowd.

*As always, feedbacks and comments are very appreciated.

And you, Rorvik, how shall you defeat the evil ones? How shall we, who are few, defeat Raiken of War, Veltus of Plagues, Horen of the Sea and Aerean of the Shadows? How shall we defeat Rycus of Calamity, Hesterides of Misfortunes, Dordaros of Greed, Galganis of Desire and Phelaukos the Scholar? What of Olostris, Verinea, Granlain, Asteridas, Felantris, Marsach and Lortus? And how, in your mind, will we defeat the most powerful of them all, Vastramach, the Lord of Doom himself? My brother, do you wish to sacrifice our lives for such childish arrogance? Excerpt from 'The Book of Justice, Chapter 4, The Lord of Crafts' Crown or Tiara Chapter 6 By Shinieris

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And you, Rorvik, how shall you defeat the evil ones? How shall we, who are few, defeat Raiken of War, Veltus of Plagues, Horen of the Sea and Aerean of the Shadows? How shall we defeat Rycus of Calamity, Hesterides of Misfortunes, Dordaros of Greed, Galganis of Desire and Phelaukos the Scholar? What of Olostris, Verinea, Granlain, Asteridas, Felantris, Marsach and Lortus? And how, in your mind, will we defeat the most powerful of them all, Vastramach, the Lord of Doom himself? My brother, do you wish to sacrifice our lives for such childish arrogance?

Excerpt from 'The Book of Justice, Chapter 4, The Lord of Crafts'

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A hand flew out from the crowds, took the princess's hand pulled her away from the throng of nobles. Surprisinglyn for the princess, none of them actually came after them.

The man pulling her hand stopped as they reached an isolated corner of the Great Hall. "You looked like you were about to faint there, princess," he said as he turned around.

He was a dashing man, with rugged hair and a tiny spot of beard that screamed 'wild'. His body was tough and muscly, but not overly so. He looked young, probably about the same age as the crown prince. His eyes were sharp and penetrating, making look rather dangerous. The shape of his eyebrows though, soft and lightly curved made him appear gentle, like the look the princess' own father used to give her. Although she didn't know this man, she immediately relaxed.

"Thank you for your timely rescue, good sir," she nodded briefly, as royalties don't bow to anyone other than royalty, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, unfortunately. Would you perhaps tell me how you are called and where do you come from, good sir?"

The man grinned. "Melthis, at your service, princess," he kissed the back of the princess' hand he was holding. I hail from the craggy lands of Veggida in the west. Though I must admit that I kind of missed being called 'good sir'. I haven't been called that since I left my adventuring days behind."

"Melthis? From Veggida. Where have I heard that before?" the princess wondered aloud.

"I was the one who dealt the killing blow on the dragon lord Asteros Three-horns," he said helpfully, before laughing discreetly.

"Asteros Three-horns? Wasn't that the dragon that terrorized Lower Veggida?" she asked.

"That is correct."

"The one who dealt the killing blow..." she pondered, before her eyes opened wide, "AH!!!" she was glad that the Great Hall was too noisy for anyone to hear her.

"You're Prince Melthis Dragonslayer," she whispered, "Crown Prince of Veggida and the second son of King Vorik Strongblade!"

"Yes," he whispered back, before speaking again in his normal voice, "But everyone knows that already, so you don't have to whisper, Princess Nefeskaya," he chuckled as he spoke.

The princess looked at the hand that was till holding hers. Prince Melthis noticed and quickly withdrew his hands for fear of offending the delicate princess. Princess Feska instead grabbed the hand and pulled it up to her face with both her hands.

"So this is the hand that kills dragons..." she looked at it in awe.

"Well, actually anyone can do it. They just need practice. Anyway, why are you here ahead of your brothers?"

"No reason, why do you ask?" she said as she looked up at his face.

The prince, wary of anyone thinking he was taking liberties with Granvayl's only princess, tried to extricate his hands from the princess' hands without being too rough, with no luck. He noticed that the princess' grasp was firmer than any eastern princess' he had met before. "Isn't it customary in Granvayl and Orin that princesses will always walk behind their brothers?"

She looked up, her golden amber eyes penetrated his pair of ocean blue ones. "Well if you must know, this princess is very unaccustomed to customs."

They exchanged uncomfortable looks before the princess looked away. Gazing into the foreign prince's eyes made her heart flutter and she wasn't sure what to make of it. She had never felt something like that before and found that she didn't hate the feeling.

This foreign prince made her heart go funny and she did not know why. She briefly wondered if this was the power of one who slays dragons on a regular basis. She wondered how it would feel like to be on those kind of adventures, how he must have bragged about how he slew dragons to his brothers and probably sisters as well. Suddently something entered her line of thought and clapped her hands briefly.

"You can help me!" she said, almost too loudly.

"Eh? What is this about?" Prince Melthis asked, while looking at Princess Feska's excited face.

"You'll be my brother!" said Princess Feska in reply.

Princess Melthis' face fell. "But this is very irregular, princess. In Veggida, it is the men's side to propose something like this."

"What? Why? Are you saying that ladies in Veggida never even thought of it?" the princess crossed her arms under her padded breasts.

"No, it's not that. It's just that normally the women would rather have the men make the first move, if you'd understand."

"That's just stupid! If we do something like that here, we'd be friendless. Most of the men here are either obnoxious or shy," she said with distaste.

"Oh, alright. If you wish it, I'll arrange for it to happen. But for the record, I proposed this," he said pointedly.

"Sure, whatever you say. Thank you, I owe you one!"

"Heh, don't mention it. This is actually a good thing, even if it isn't exactly what I came here to accomplish," the prince said, before looking at the floor and muttering under his breath, "That lucky bastard."

"What?" the princess bowed slightly, as she looked up at the prince's face, "Did you say something, Prince Melthis?"

"No, nevermind. I'll be honored to be your brother, Princess Nefeskaya," the prince said as he got on one knee and kissed the princess' hands.

"Heehee, you're much nicer than some of the supposedly gentlemen around here. Oh by the way, it's Feska."

"I beg your pardon?"

"Call me Feska."

"That is very inappropriate, Princess-"

"Feska!" she said.

"Feska," the prince said while feeling he had crossed a line.

It was at this time that the princess' brothers arrived.

"Oh goody!" she said as she pulled Prince Melthis onto his feet and hooked arms with him, "Now let's go fool my brother!"

*As always, comments and feedbacks are appreciated. I'm sorry that it's taking much longer this time for somewhat less length in this chapter. New responsibilities at work's been cutting more and more of my time writing.

Is this your wish, my sister? To have us fight against our own flesh and blood, our own brothers and sisters, our own fathers and mothers, our own sons and daughters? Are we at the place where we slay each other for comfort? You resolved to slay our own brother, and spill his blood on the pure, white clouds. Melilica shall have no part in this, dear sister. Do as you wish, Melilica is already in disappointment. Excerpt from the translated poem 'The Sorrows of Elanara'. Crown or Tiara Chapter 7 By Shinieris

---

 

Crown or Tiara
Chapter 7

With the blow of trumpets and drumroll from the palace musicians, the palace herald announced, "The arrival of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Mikhalir Veren Talranic, His Royal Highness , Favoured Prince Alterion Narhas Talranic, His Royal Highness-"

The herald was interrupted by the sudden appearance of a young boy, a palace servant, who pulled at his tunic as if to pull it off. The herald turned to him, probably to scold the boy, when the boy argued with him about something as the drumroll and trumpet were still playing in the background. The princess felt pity for the poor musicians who had turned red in the face from having to blow the trumpet.

The herald raised his right hand and the band stopped playing, much to their relief, though they remained at position. The herald cleared his throat as he announced again, "The arrival of His Royal Highness, Crown Prince Mikhalir Veren Talranic and His Royal Highness, Favored Prince Altherion Narhas Talranic with Lady Seleste of Rummingdal and Lady Myra of Tesledhar."

The crowd gathered near the front entrance as the two most powerful men in the kingdom walked in, with a lady on their left, arms locked. Behind them followed four men in chainmail, security escorts for the two princes. Princess Feska wondered if such escorts were really necessary in their own palace.

The nobles and officials parted to allow the two princes and their escorts passage to their seats at the head table. As the princes and their escorts walked past, the nobles and officials present bowed and curtsied including the princess herself, who wanted to play her game for a little longer. Once they arrived at the head table, the prince spoke to the hall, "Welcome, and thank you for honoring me with all your presence. It is truly wonderful to see all of your faces, some of which I haven't seen for many years. How time has passed. But please, enough with this talk. Enjoy the feast, my honored guests." The favored prince clapped his hands and throngs of servants entered through the side doors, carrying bunches of fruits, plates of roasted meat, tankards of drinks and bowls of dessert.

"This is all very different from home," Prince Melthis remarked to Princess Feska. They were standing at the far corner of the Great Hall, watching as the two princes were served and started feasting.

"How so?" Princess Feska asked, "Because it's crowded? I heard some kingdoms, like Orinia don't normally hold banquets where the Hall is full."

"Not that actually, Feska. In Veggida, we also have banquets where some guests would had to eat outside because the Hall is simply too full."

"Really? Your guests eat outside?"

"I assure you it's not a jest. I myself had to eat outside after my own swearing ceremony."

"I would love to see that," the princess said, her beautiful golden eyes, ones which the prince found unable to take his eyes of, were sparkling with a far-away look about it.

"Hum, yes," the prince said as he continued gazing into the princess's sparkling amber eyes, before he managed to look away from pure will alone, "Don't worry, I'll make it happen soon enough. But we're getting out of topic."

"What was our topic again?" the princess said, still looking at the foreign prince with those beautiful, sparkling golden eyes.

"Nevermind that," the prince said, finding it hard to look away again.

"Come on, remind me," the princess said, still looking at the prince.

The prince didn't know what made him do it, but he almost ended up kissing the princess without realizing what he was doing. Only the princess' palms stood between his lips and its goal.

"I'm flattered that you want to kiss me, Prince Melthis, but really, these lips are for someone I'm going to marry," the princess said, speaking aloud one of the spurn-words that her mother made her memorize when she was younger.

"Ah, I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me," the prince said, apologizing profusely.

"Oh, it's quite alright. I can't blame you for falling for my beauty," the princess said. Her accompanying giggle made the prince had to fight himself from trying to kiss her again.

The prince cleared his throat and looked away. He was finding it harder to control himself in front of this frail-looking princess. This princess may be a child, he looked at the princess' chest, but by the gods, she knows how to play with men. She's going to be a handful for her brothers soon.

"Something on your mind?" the princess said as she bent over slightly, raising her face up to look at the prince again.

"Um, nothing. It's just that the nobles here have no qualms about eating while standing. Your neighbor Orinia wouldn't tolerate sitting on anything other than proper chairs, and servants have to attend to each of the nobles."

"Those Orinians are all uptight idiots, just like my brother Therion."

"As in Prince Altherion?"

"Of course! He's so uptight, so strict, and such a very strict follower of rules and good conduct that I always feel like dropping Noxious Cloud potions into his bedchamber."

The prince grinned, "Never knew you had such a naughty streak in you. Ah, come to think of it, why aren't you sitting at the head table with your brothers?"

"Oh, this and that, but nothing you need to worry about," she said as she pulled on Prince Melthis' hand.

"Feska?"

"Come, let's introduce ourselves to my brother. But please, play along, alright?"

"A prank then, Feska?" he grinned.

She paused, thought about it a little bit and then said, "Oh yes, we can't just let him go through the night without teasing him a bit."

-----

"Cling, cling" the bell rung as Seo pushed open the front door and entered. He proceeded to sit on the bar's stool.

"My dear Seo..." came a voice from the stairs, "Back so early? Weren't you supposed to go to the palace?"

Seo stood and bowed to the lady in a blue and black gown. "I was not permitted entry, my beautiful lady, Madam Messell."

"Oh shush, I am but an old woman. But tell me, why would you be refused access, dear Seo?" Madam Messell said as she sat at one of the tables, gesturing Seo to do the same.

Seo took the seat and said, "It's the crown prince's welcoming feast. I wasn't important enough to enter."

"Do I detect dissatisfaction in your words, dear Seo? You know, if only you didn't-"

"Please, dear Madam," Seo said cutting her off, "I am a new man, and wish not to be known through by stories from my old life."

"I don't understand why, really. You are what, twenty summers?" Madam Messell leaned forward, "What is it you are searching that brings you to a vagabond's life?"

"Because I am young that I need to start searching, Madam. I think I may be closer here."

"Whatever you say then, dear Seo. Ah, will you be busy later?"

"Probably not, Madam, something you need me for?" Seo asked without really thinking about it.

"Write me a story. My girls will be performing next month and I really need a new story. The old ones have been repeated often enough, I can even emphatize on my guests' boredom. And I could use some book balancing."

"I think I can do that. I have a new story in mind anyhow."

-----

"Greetings to the crown prince," Princess Feska said as she curtsied in front of the Head Table.

The crown prince stood and with a smile said, "Greetings to you too, noble lady. Please rise."

"You're most kind, Your Highness," Princess Feska said as she took a brief glance at Prince Altherion, who was pale and sweaty, and shifting on his seat.

"If it is not too much to ask, lady. Would you mind telling me how you are called and where you hail from? I must admit, my long time abroad has had a bad influence on my memories."

"You are not missing anything, Your Highness." she said with hands clasped at her stomache, "I was very young when you left for Les - abroad."

"Is that so? Then how shall I address you, lady?"

"Nefeskaya be my name, Your Highness. Though everyone just calls me Princess Feska, really."

"Ah! Princess Feska! I have heard a lot of you from my brother. I believe you know my brother Altherion?" he said as he gestured to his brother who was looking paler and paler with every second.

"Yes, Your Highness, the favored prince and I are well acquainted," she squinted her eyes, trying to make her favored brother sink even further into his seat, if it was possible, "All good I hope, Your Highness?"

"Sparkling, Princess Feska. And Prince Melthis, it has been a long time since we met."

"I agree, Prince Mikhalir. Quite a long time indeed."

The princess' glance switched from Prince Mikhalir to Prince Melthis and back again. Bewildered, she asked, "You two know each other?"

"Of course!" Prince Mikhalir laughed, "We killed dragons together."

Princess Feska watched him with mouth wide agape.

"Two dragons,"Prince Melthis corrected, "You twisted your ankle just as we were about to go challenge Asteros Three-Horns."

"Come now, there's no need to remember all the tiny little details," Prince Mikhalir laughed again.

"My brother... the dragon slayer?" Princess Feska wondered aloud.

"Oh yes, he's the best, if you don't know yet, Princess. People said that the gods smiled when he was born."

Startled, Prince Melthis said, "Eh? Me? But-"

He was interrupted when one of his foot was kicked by Princess Feska. "Play along," Princess Feska whispered.

*As always, comments and feedbacks are very appreciated. Praises helps speed up my work and constructive criticisms help me improve.

Now, the lumination crystals are rather curious objects. For one, although they are called lumination crystals, it does not produce its own light. Rather, it takes whatever light is in its surroundings, then somehow uses that light to shine and illuminate as if by magic. That is why the stronger the light source that hits the lumination crystal, the brighter its light will become. Except from 'A Commentary On Recent Inventions' by Beregor the Curious. Crown or Tiara Chapter 8 By Shinieris

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Crown or Tiara
Chapter 8

Now, the lumination crystals are rather curious objects. For one, although they are called lumination crystals, it does not produce its own light. Rather, it takes whatever light is in its surroundings, then somehow uses that light to shine and illuminate as if by magic. That is why the stronger the light source that hits the lumination crystal, the brighter its light will become.

Except from 'A Commentary On Recent Inventions' by Beregor the Curious.

------

"Mother," the princess murmured to the sleeping queen in the dim light. With the light shutter only half-way open, the brightness of the room, reflected by the light from the lumination crystals was only half of what it should be.

"Mother," she murmured again. She was resting her face into her crossed arms at the edge of the queen's bed. "Mikhal just came home, mother."

Princess Feska raised her head, looking at the queen's sleeping face. "He hasn't changed, mother," she put her head back into her crossed arms. "Still the same pervert, hug-obsessed brother as the day he left," she said as she closed her eyes, "Still the same Mikhal, no matter how big he has become."

She paused, raising her head again, she said, "He danced well too. And he kept asking why Frid won't attend the feast. As if I'd tell him." She sat with her arms resting on the edge of the queen's bed, and stayed there for quite a moment. That was, when she heard sounds and voices outside.

"So the Queen Mother is here, then?" one of the voices said. His voice barely heard through the heavy door of the queen's bedchamber. Princess Feska focused her ears trying to hear better.

"I've never been here. Last I remember, this was the royal whorehouse. Why did they move the Queen Mother here?"

"It was actually the Queen Mother who wanted to live here, after His Majesty's passing, Your Highness. At least from what I could gather," said another, older-sounding voice as Princess Feska heard the doorknob turn and it made her stood abruptly.

"Oh well. The important thing is-" the crown prince stopped in mid-sentence as Princess Feska crashed into him the moment the door was opened.

She would've broken into a run if not for the quick reflex of the crown prince's bodyguard. As it was, she was held in a vise grip by the bodyguard. Princess Feska struggled in vain against his grip.

"How dare you touch me, common-born! Unhand me at once!" Princess Feska said as twisted her arm and pushed against the man's arm, trying to get free.

"Princess Feska?" the crown prince stood steady. His eyes scanning the still struggling girl and the unmoving body of his mother.

"That was low, Princess of Veggida!" the prince's eyes turned cold and menacing. He unsheathed his sword and said, "I would understand if your father tries to assassinate my mother. But I would never have believed that Melthis permits this to happen. You shall be-"

"Assassinate?" the princess screamed, "Why would I want to kill my own mother?"

------

"So that about being the princess of Veggida and being Frid's betroth was all a big lie?" the crown prince asked as he sat next to Princess Feska at the side of the fountain.

"Well, not exactly..." she withered under the sharp look her brother gave.

"I think it's time that you tell me everything, Feska," the prince said as he crossed his arms.

The princess looked sideways and said, "But I have already told you everything..."

"Look at me when you say that, Feska! Tell me everything."

Everything? That's social suicide! "No! I've told you everything you need to know. Respect a girl's wish for privacy, would you?" she said while looking straight at the prince's face, though her eyes tried to avoid hitting his directly.

"Fine then, tell me the reason you're doing this. Why go to such length to fool me. What would you get by fooling me, your own brother?"

"Umm, you see, the truth is, we didn't really know how to explain this to you."

"You mean the fact that I suddenly have a cute sister? Frid's secret twin nonetheless?"

"You must understand that I'm the palace secret. Nobody outside the palace knows of me."

"So what now?"

"What do you mean?"

"Are you going to continue masquerading as Melthis' sister or become mine?"

"See, that temper! We knew you would be mad, so we tried to avoid getting hit by your temper."

The princess breathed out, aware that his mood was making his sister nervous, "Alright, I'll calm down now. You still haven't answered the question. Are you the princess of Veggida or Granvayl?"

"See, I think the cat's now out of the bag, there's really no more need to keep lying to you."

"I quite agree, dear sister. Let me formally welcome you to the family," he said with a predatory grin.

"What?" the princess said as she was startled by the gleam in her brother's eyes. "You can't seriously..." she cautiously stepped back when she saw her brother advance with arms open.

"Don't you dare... MIKHAL!" she yelled as her brother jumped forward. In her desire to escape, she accidentally tripped over the edge of the fountain, causing her to fall backward into the cold water in the circular pool under the fountain.

"Guh!" she blew out mouthfuls of fountain water from her mouth.

"Are you alright, Feska? I didn't know mermaid blood runs in the family." he chortled jovially.

"You-" Feska spat out a bit more of the fountain's stale water, "I should turn you into a toad!"

"Hah! Not even mother can turn me into a toad, and she's a great alchemist. Hey!"

"What? Something wrong?" she said as she pushed aside the wet hair that was clinging to her face.

"Look! The fountain has stopped flowing, and the waterline's receding."

"Seriously?!" she looked around her, "Oh great, I broke the fountain. It's all your fault!"

"You don't break a fountain, Feska. You demolish it," the prince said as he stood up and offered his hand to his sister.

"But I-" her words were cut by the grinding of stone and stone. Moments later, the fountain tile just a foot away from her dropped, followed by the tile next to it, and the tile next to it, until the tile right next to the princess also fell.

The prince quickly pulled his sister out of the pool as the tiles fell one by one into the darkness. they both looked down and saw something like a spiral staircase from above.

"A secret passageway... you must have accidentally tripped over a lever or something," the prince remarked, "Want to have a look?"

"Umm, no, probably not." Yeah, a secret stairway leading into the darkness. Not in your life!

The prince said as he took one of the torches nearby and took a step onto the first tile."Oh come on, where's your sense of adventure?"

"It's not here at the moment," the princess mumbled.

"Seriously, let's go!" the prince said as he pulled on the princess' hand.

"Why are you so insistent on going down there?" the princess said as she relented and stood onto the first plate.

The prince grinned. "I want to get a rise out of Therion."

------

"Can't we just go back?" the princess whined as they went deeper into the tunnels.

"Why'd we want to do that?" the prince replied as he led the way. He was holding a torch he took from the Forbidden Garden in his left hand and the Aidelich, a sword given to the crown princes of every Talranic generation in his right hand.

"Because it's getting creepier?" she shivered as stale air blew past her.

"Come on, think about it. Brother and sister discovers long-forgotten tunnels underneath the palace. Doesn't it sound grand?" he grinned.

"It's hard to feel very grand when I'm soaked to the bones," she mumbled.

"Oh right, I forgot. You fell into the fountain. You must be freezing cold," he said without looking back.

"You kidding?" Feska said with chattering teeth, "What gave me away?"

"Haha! Seems like someone failed to teach you proper court manners. Here," he said as he threw at her his silk mantle bearing the the Talranic Royal Family coat of arms and and handed her the leather vest that he wore instead of the white velvet that he came home with.

Princess Feska took the silk mantle and wrapped it around herself. She was at a loss as to what her brother expected her to do with his vest. Noticing that the princess didn't take the proffered vest, the prince looked behind at his sister, who was still staring at the vest in his hands.

"I meant for you to wear the vest as your top and the mantle as your skirt, dear sister."

"Great!" the princess exclaimed brightly, "I'll just get back to my room upstairs then." And get out of this tunnel for good!

"No time. Just change here."

"Here?" she asked as her brother nodded.

"Like, here?" she asked as her brother nodded again.

"Not in your dreams, pervert!" she cried as she threw a piece of debris at the crown prince.

The crown prince was barely able to duck away from the incoming projectile. Instead of tensing up, he laughed. "Amazing! Not only does your face the same as your twin, even your words are the same."

The princess sighed. Rubbing the side of her head, she said, "I told you before, brother dear, don't compare me with Frid."

"Well, he's your twin. You know it's inevitable," he said with a grin.

"Enough! I'm going to go change," she said as hid around the corner.

Before the prince could do anything, the princess poked her head and sharply said, "Don't you dare peek!"

The prince merely shrugged. The princess pouted and disappeared around the corner again.

As he waited, the prince surveyed his surrounding. The ceiling leaked here and there, but the tunnel was surprisingly dry. The tunnel was dark, and the prince deduced that at some point in the past, probably a thousand years ago, the wall must have been lined with torches, judging from the soot marks present at consistent intervals on the wall. The tunnel air felt stale, and the prince could detect an underlying scent, very faint, but quite unsettling. He couldn't place what the scent was, but he knew it wasn't pleasant.

"Ahhhh!!!!" a voice screamed from around the corner, the same one where the princess went to change.

"Feska!" the prince called out as he held his sword tight in a battle posture.

*Hey there, this time I got this released faster :P As always, comments and feedbacks are much appreciated.

"What, pray tell, shall you do if I refused to do as you say? I brought the dead to your realm. I keep you in power. And it has always been I who protected you and your realm. Now you wish to remove me, because I enjoyed my duty? I return this blade to you, brother. The next time we meet again, I shall have another blade, for which shall I use to sever your head from your shoulders. Excerpt from Temple to Festiciol's sacred text, 'Conversations From Beyond'. Crown or Tiara Chapter 9 By Shinieris

---

 

Crown or Tiara
Chapter 9

"What, pray tell, shall you do if I refused to do as you say? I brought the dead to your realm. I keep you in power. And it has always been I who protected you and your realm. Now you wish to remove me, because I enjoyed my duty? I return this blade to you, brother. The next time we meet again, I shall have another blade, for which shall I use to sever your head from your shoulders.

Excerpt from Temple to Festiciol's sacred text, 'Conversations From Beyond'

------

"Feska!" the prince called out as he held his sword tight in a battle posture. He rushed forward, sword in hand, torch in the other, and rounded the corner, only to see his sister holding the mantle around her body.

She was trembling, looking ahead with her head slightly bowed. The prince looked ahead, saw nothing in the darkness and turned back towards his sister. She was still trembling and looking at the same direction. Some chattering noises made the prince look back at the direction then prince was looking and then he heard it again. He looked down and saw two large rats, as large as housecats looking at them with teeth bared.

The first rat jumped at the prince, who quickly raised his sword and cut it into pieces in three swift slashes. The other took advantage of the distraction and went for the prince's leg. The prince in respond kicked the huge rat away before it could sink its teeth into his leg. The rat hit the wall hard, but like all rats, it was apparently very tough, and bounced easily. Before it even reached the floor, the prince dispatched the creature with one quick slash, beheading the monstrous creature before it could make its next move on them.

"Are you okay?" the prince said as he tested the rats' bodies with the tip of his sword.

"Yes," the princess said, finally finding her voice, "What are those things?"

"Mutated rats, most likely. Or rats that simply ate lots. I'd prefer if the former is true," the prince said while he cleaned the sword's blade on the creature's fur.

"Mutated rats? Why would you prefer that? Aren't they more dangerous?" the princess said, while at the same time shuddering from the memory of watching a mutated fire-breathing volcano phoenix dropping its burning faeces on the town of Racken in Baretha. She recalled how the alchemist of Baretha launch bottles after bottles of Frostroam potions to bring the mutated phoenix down.

"Because mutated rats can grow that big in a few years," the prince then turned his head towards the princess, "While evolved rats require generations of evolution, which means that there may be a lot more of them."

"You're saying there are more of them around?" the princess said as she quickly crossed the short distance between them so she could hide behind him.

"It's a possibility. But I must admit, little sister..."

"What?" she asked as she looked up to his face.

"You've grown. I mean, I can't believe your handmaiden would allow you such risque panties. I've only seen those in Lestraux," the prince said as he pulled at the side of the baby blue silk lace panties before letting it go, making a loud smacking sound.

The princess blushed brightly while smacking her brother's head. "Pervert!" she pushed him hard, causing the prince to fall. "Pervert!!!" she screamed at the top of her lungs as she started kicking the fallen prince.

"Ouch, ow, ow, stop!" the prince said as he was kicked by the enraged princess.

"You... haven't... changed... a bit!" she punctuated each words with a kick on his stomach.

"Alright, alright! Ow!" the prince fended another kick.

The princess huffed as she stood still, watching the prince rise. "Want more?" said the princess.

"Please no. By Rorvik, if you're a dragon, you would be ferocious," the prince said as he brushed dirt and grime from his clean white cotton shirt.

The princess crossed her arms and said haughtily, "Well, serves you right, pervert."

"If I didn't know better, I'd have thought it was Frid who kicked me. It kind of stings. Now I know why he was so soft, he kicked like a girl."

The princess abruptly kicked the prince again, and again, and again.

*****

"I think we're lost, Mikhal," the princess said as she noticed the exact same intersection as the one they just passed through no more than 10 minutes before.

"Nonsense, we're not lost," the prince argued.

"Then what do you call this? Circling around?"

"We're merely surveying our surrounding. We're explorers after all," the prince said as he noted the mark he made on the wall about 20 minutes ago.

"Explorer my butt. We've been seeing this bullseye on the wall for - wait, did you say something?" the princess said as she narrowed her eyes with suspicion.

"Only in my head," the prince mumbled.

"You said my butt is nice!"

"I said no such thing! I-" came the sound of something heavy falling on the ground.

"Like your nice butt."

"See! You're trying to deny it!"

"That's not-"

"Nice butt you have..."

The princess looked at the prince, perplexed. "I heard you, but I didn't see your lips moving."

"That's because it wasn't me, my dear sister."

"Then who-" she was interrupted by heavy footsteps from behind. She cautiously looked behind.

A nine foot-tall giant slouched from the darkness behind her. "Nice butt you have," said the thin, coarse-looking creature, "Gimrok play with nice butt," he said while dragging a heavy-looking club apparently made of rock.

"Ahhhh!!!" both the prince and the princess screamed and sprinted away from the giant, went right at the junction with the blue, green and yellow bullseye and straight, until they could go straight anymore. As the sound of heavy footsteps got closer, the prince grabbed the princess's hand and pulled her into a narrow passage to their left. The creature then took the other passage, to the right and went farther and farther away. They breathed a sigh of relief.

"Why is it not chasing us anymore? And what in Elanara's grace is that monster?"

"Cave troll. Seen some of them in Veggida. They're more elusive here in Granvayle."

"But..." the princess breathed deeply, "... I thought trolls are supposed to be as tall as a two-story house?"

"You're talking about forest trolls," the prince said as he spied around the corner,"I read in a book that the H'loren elves used them as assault troops the the War of Contested Forest. Made a whole lot of mess on our army."

"Still, why did it stop chasing us?" the princess said, her chest now flat without its augmenting corset, rose and fell with every breath.

"Hypnosis, I believe," the prince muttered as he spied around the corner again. This time, he spotted the troll running towards them, before running right into the passage he just went into earlier.

"Hyp-what?" the princess asked after she was sure the troll wouldn't hear her.

"That's how the people of Menshaw called it. I think it's called 'portrait curse' in Granvayl."

"Portrait curse?"

"Have you read a book titled 'The Curse of Grandfather's Portrait' by Athol Avers-Sinar?"

"The book about the string of murders in the house of Avers, the family of the former Count of Illisia?"

"So you have read it?" the prince asked.

"Only the prologue. That book was way too scary! I read it when I was 12 and mother had to sleep with me for the whole week because I kept having nightmares. Even after that, I still wouldn't dare to sleep alone. Lady Frenia had to sleep with me for weeks after that."

"Nightmares of demons creeping out from the shadows under the bed, behind the dresser, and under the desk? And it made you run to a brightly-lit place so the bright light repulsed the evil demons?"

"How'd you know that? Yes, I ran to the kitchen that time."

"I knew because I also did the same thing. Different was, I ran to my study, lighted all the lamps, sat on the chain in the middle of the room and refused to sleep until daybreak, of which I ended up sleeping on the balcony."

"Seriously?" the princess asked, to which the prince nodded, "And here I thought that you've always been a tough hunk," the princess giggled as she punched her brother lightly on the arm.

"Oh give me a break, little sister. I was a child back then. Nobody was born as a dragonslayer, not even your beloved prince," he gave her a sly grin.

"Beloved prince?" her heart skipped a beat, "Wha-what are you talking about?"

"Oh, you know. You can't lie to me, Feska," the prince said as his grin widened.

"No-no, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Really? Then I suppose Prince Melthis will be sorely disappointed."

"What's he got to do with this?"

"Please, stop acting like you don't know anything. It's the crown prince's duty to arrange the marriage of his sisters, you know?"

"You're marrying me to him? Elanara's breath! He's handsome, I'll give you that, but not that handsome," she said, alarmed.

"No, not him. Though from the looks you gave him when you were trying to fool me, I certainly can't imagine that you'd fancy his brother-"

"Wait, what?" the princess said, cutting him off, "I fancy his brother? I haven't even met his brother!"

"But he said you already agreed, that he will be your brother?" the prince said, while looking confused.

"No! That was-" she was interrupted by a blood-curdling shriek from behind her.

"DIE!!!" a ghostly apparition appeared, gliding slowly towards them, "All shall serve Lortus!"

"Just one?" the prince unsheathed his sword and gently stepped forward, shielding his sister, "Come then, my enchanted blade Aidelich shall make short work of you!"

"All shall serve Lortus!" came another voice, similar, yet not the same as the first as another apparition glided out of the darkness.

"Lortus is supreme!" said another voice, as another one appeared.

"Glory to Lortus!" came another voice, from the passage to the left.

"Don't they know that Lortus is dead?" the princess asked.

"LORTUS!" came the unified cry of the spectres, as if in recognition of their god's name being spoken.

"I guess as the God of Eternal Life, Lortus didn't prepare a memo for when he died," her brother remarked drily.

"LORTUS!" they cried again.

"If they do that again, I'm going to scream," the princess said in annoyance.

"All shall serve Lortus," came more voices from behind them.

"We're surrounded," the prince commented, "I guess even in death, Lortus is-"

"LORTUS!"

"Okay, that does it!" the princess growled as she took out two tiny vials, the size of her thumbs from the fold of her belt. She placed the vials, filled with an amber-colored liquid between her palms and she put her palms together, as if in prayer. Moments later, she took one vial in each grasp, and shook it cautiously but roughly.

One. She shook it once.

Two. She shook it once again.

Three. She shook it again as the prince gasped when he saw the liquid in the vials started to glow bright gold. Then she took a step forward as she threw both vials to the spectres in front of her in one quick move. So strongly she threw the vials that even after it broke onto the stone floor, some of the liquid continued to jump for another foot from the broken vials.

Its effect was instantaneous. The moment the vials hit the spectres, their features became distorted, as if the vial was stretching their ethereal bodies. When the vials finally broke on the floor, the liquid evaporated in a violent tendril of golden light that snatched at the spectres' ethereal bodies nearby and wrapped itself around them.

With every second the spectrers were wrapped in the golden tendril, the more invisible they became, until in the end, they were crushed by the golden tendrils which vanished with them. The few spectres that was too far to be snatched was quickly cut into twos by the prince's sword Aidelich, as both the prince and princess ran forward, past the crowd of spectres that was still in the grip of the golden tendrils.

When they were far enough from the spectres, they stopped to relax and catch their breath.

"Do you always carry Fae Fyre with you?" the prince asked as he recovered.

"Always," the princess said, still breathing heavily, "A single drop gives me the courage to stand in front of a crowd. And believe me, I had to do that a lot."

"How did you know it would work on those ghosts then?"

"I didn't. I just thought that since Fae Fyre work on the spirit. It would work on them."

"Well, another thing. How many of those do you carry?"

"Four, why?"

"And you just used two to open the way forward?" the prince chuckled.

"Yes, I - Oh dear Elanara! Give me back my Fae Fyre!" the princess cried as she started running back to the spectres.

The prince grabbed her around the waist before she managed to take one step towards the spectres. "Hold it," he said, trying to maintain his hold on his struggling sister, "Now that you have actually paved the step forward, let's just see how far we can go."

"I only have 2 vials left, Mikhal. If we encounter any spectres in front, we may never be able to go back. Our lives will be sucked by those undead creatures," the princess argued once she stopped stuggling.

"Then don't use it," the prince helped the princess get back on her feet,

"I can deal with one or two, even four, at the same time, and if there's too many of them, we'll just run."

The princess looked up at her brother's face and said, "We're going forward whether I want to or not, aren't we?"

"Most definitely. What other potions do you carry?"

*****

A pair of eyes stood watching in the dark shadows of the Queen Mother's bedchamber. It hid when servants came in and emerged as they left. It was there when the favored princess spoke to the Queen Mother about her brothers. It was there when the princess cried herself to sleep. It had been there for weeks. It knew everything now and nobody even noticed its presence.

The creature cracked a grin, showing its yellowing pointy teeth. "Tilia my child," he said in a voice rough and throaty, "Look at you now, all weak and helpless, betrayed by your own closest confidants," he came closer to the bed, his long arm rose and from his hand, emerged a dagger made of red steel.

He swung the dagger by the pommel, as if unsure where to let it drop, "I could take your life now, but I will not. Seeing you suffering this way pains whatever heart I still have," he laughed in a laugh that none could hear, "If only you followed my advice, your husband would still be alive. Those steps you took to not become me, were admirable, if not foolish. Of course, I can cure you right here, right now, but that would be intervention," he laughed that unheard laugh again, "However..."

The dagger retreated back into the dark figure's hand at the same time the window closest opened outward, blowing cold winds into the room. "I'd like to see what will happen next. That princess is pretty amusing. I commend you on such a beautiful craftmanship. Well made, well made, my child." With those parting words the figure leaped out of the window, bringing with it the darker shadows in the bedchamber, and disappeared into the night.

At that time, if anyone nearby had the ability to perceive a voice unheard by the ears, they would have heard the Queen Mother's still conscious mind screaming, "You stay away from my daughter!"

*Just in case I was away during christmas. Merry Christmas everyone! Oh and please give me your comments and feedback. Ta!

Omake — Prince Mikhalir’s story. Crown or Tiara Chapter 9 Omake By Shinieris

Omake — Prince Mikhalir’s story.

Prince Mikhalir trudged through the dirt that covered the forest trail. His expensive cuirbuilly shoes were caked in mud and dirt, an indication of how far he had walked. He was now tired, after running from his pursuants for hours.

“Damned mountain trolls,” he said as he leaned on a nearby tree, “ I can’t defeat three mountain trolls at the same time.”

The prince heard and threw up at the foot of the tree. Nothing came out except for saliva and mucus. The prince had not had anything to eat other than leaves and root water. A heavy thump woke him from his rest. He cursed himself for finally losing his luck.

“Can’t run, little oo-mon?” growled the thirty foot tall monster. It had fangs on both sides of its normally flat teeth. It wore a loincloth covering its crotch and carried a club made from an uprooted tree.

“Heh ! Think you’ve defeated me, beast?” the prince panted as he forced himself to stand straight.

“Eelod beat oo-mon with club. Har ..har..har..”

The prince snickered, “And you are supposed to be the most intelligent?”

“Eelod laugh at small oo-mon. So small, so weak. Troll crush oo-mon!” it said as the other two ogres laughed along.

“You think you’ve won?” the prince said as he took out a vial, “I tell you, the human spirit shall not lose to you beasties of the wild,” he removed the stopper and gulped down the content.

“Oo-mon die now!” it said as it slammed the club down on the prince.

The prince rolled to the side as the club slammed onto the ground just a few feet from where he rolled to. Then he deflected the resulting debris using both his sword, a beautifully crafted blade of blue steel and enchanted jewels and its scabbard, also crafted of blue steel and adorned with alchemical jewels. He was, however, only delaying the troll for the swiftness potion to take effect.

It didn’t seem to matter to the three mountain trolls though. They swung their clubs with abandon, as if nothing else mattered but their target. But then everything changed. The prince felt power flowing through his veins as the swiftness potion started to take effect. His muscles became restless, twitching in anticipation of combat. His mind became sharper and his eyes saw the mountain trolls’ movements slowing. Not just the mountain trolls, even the wind, and the sound of rustling leaves became slower to his senses. He was ready and he sprinted forward towards the lead troll.

The troll, the intelligent one, tried to smash the prince down but his club never once connected. The prince zig-zagged across the distance until he was at the troll’s feet. He jumped when the troll’s club tried to swipe him away. Instead of climbing the troll’s body, the prince ran until he could not anymore, then jumped to wherever possible using the troll’s muscles as the stepping stones. Once he arrived at the troll’s hand, he dashed to its head and grabbed its thick trunk-like neck. Using momentum alone, he flipped the gigantic troll upside down by its neck. Eelod the troll passed out from the unexpected knock on his head.

As he fell, the prince spun himself in the air, until it looked like he was spinning top. Grabbing his cloak, he was able to create enough lift from his spinning to slow his fall. But before he could land, the other two trolls had already charged forward with the single intention of killing him and impaling him on their toothpicks. The prince, seeing the oncoming danger, let go of his cloak and bare able to avoid the clubs as gravity claimed him again.

He looked up the moment he landed, knowing that his death was near and no matter how fast the potion made him; he would never be able to escape the incoming death. He was struck dumb, when the giant’s ugly arms swinging the club was severed at the elbow, causing the arm and the club to miss him by a yard and rolled away. The troll roared as one arrow after another buried themselves into its neck. It wasn’t long before it fell onto ground lifeless.

He looked at the other troll and saw that its entire body was covered in flames. Its screams were apparently muffled by the roaring flames that licked its body. He recognized Dragon’s Breath, an alchemical potion that burns and burn until the target is turned into charred husk. Then a man in heavy armor fell down from the sky like a fallen god and cut the troll into two.

Prince Mikhalir watched in awe as the fallen god went up to Eelod, who was groaning from the pain of being knocked unconscious. Eelod cursed the ‘ little human’ and was about to get up when the fallen god swing his sword downward, beheading the troll in one swift stroke.

The fallen god cleaned his bloody sword on Eelod’s loincloth. Only now could the prince see him properly. He was tall, taller than the prince himself. He wore a silvery helm that covered his entire face. His steel breastplate was carved in the shape of a muscly chest while his arms were covered entirely in chainmail. He also wore steel bracers on both hands and a skirt of metal plates on his waist. On his lower legs, he wore metallic boots, which shined under the sunlight.

“Melthis, do you have to do something so showy?” came a voice from the hills on Prince Mikhalir’s right.

“Velena,” the man in full armor spoke in front of Prince Mikhalir spoke, “The value of a kill is determined not by how fast it’s killed, but by how difficult and how stylish the kill is made. Write that down.”

The prince heard some gagging noises from the same hill and wondered what female would talk so casually with such a warrior. Then the warrior turned to him and he instinctively raised his sword.

The figure laughed, before sheathing his sword and removing his helmet. He had the rugged look of mountain people, the prince noticed. “Greetings warrior,” the man in front of the prince said jovially, “My band and I were just passing through when we encountered you and your ordeal. I trust, our aid were not unwelcome?” The man offered his hand.

Prince Mikhalir sheathed his sword and shook the man’s hand. “Not at all, stranger. It was a good thing you came. I was about to be flattened by trolls. Not exactly the kind of heroic death I was looking for.”

“Who would? My name is Melthis. I roam this region looking for adventure and experience. How about you?”

“The name’s Mikhal. I was looking for the same thing too, before I met Ee-lod there,” the prince gestured at the dead troll.

“Then perhaps you would like to join us, as our purpose are the same and we can use another sword arm.”

“Why thank you, I shall gladly accept-“

“Don’t I get a say in this?” came that voice from the hill again.

“No, Velena. Time for protest is already up.”

“Bloody dragonslayer!” that voice yelled from the hill, before a rock flew from the same direction and hit Melthis's shoulder.

*Sorry everyone for not posting for so long. Real life caught up to me. I suddenly have 22k in debt which suddenly appeared after 6 years, remnant of my college days. It was pretty annoying and I became depressed so terribly, I withdrew from the world.

*As always though, please feel free to give comments or feedbacks, good or bad, whichever is equally useful. The next chapter has already been written, just not typed yet.

So the Immortal Warrior Rentach Seld bellowed unto the hounds of fire, "Lo and behold, you dogs of Brimstone Pit, in the name of the God of War Raiken and the God of Eternal Life Lortus, these human hands shall send you back to the pit you were spawned from. And he swung his hammer so mightily, that it hit the earth and the earth cracked and split. While the hapless hounds that had eaten the world shrieked and whined as they fell into the split and swallowed up by the will of Felantris, the Goddess of the Earth. The Warrior King Ferenath Orinias answered his companion's cry with his own thunderous bellow and it so struck fear into the hounds that they paused and was gloriously frozen where they stood by the God-Mage Ulneric with the raw magic that was forgotten by all but the gods. By the power granted to him by the Goddess of Magic Verinea, he smashed the hounds' icy prison with the great hammer of light from the heavens, the Arc Folfonas Verineas, and turned them into dusts that could never be revived. Crown or Tiara Chapter 10 By Shinieris

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So the Immortal Warrior Rentach Seld bellowed unto the hounds of fire, "Lo and behold, you dogs of Brimstone Pit, in the name of the God of War Raiken and the God of Eternal Life Lortus, these human hands shall send you back to the pit you were spawned from. And he swung his hammer so mightily, that it hit the earth and the earth cracked and split. While the hapless hounds that had eaten the world shrieked and whined as they fell into the split and swallowed up by the will of Felantris, the Goddess of the Earth.

The Warrior King Ferenath Orinias answered his companion's cry with his own thunderous bellow and it so struck fear into the hounds that they paused and was gloriously frozen where they stood by the God-Mage Ulneric with the raw magic that was forgotten by all but the gods. By the power granted to him by the Goddess of Magic Verinea, he smashed the hounds' icy prison with the great hammer of light from the heavens, the Arc Folfonas Verineas, and turned them into dusts that could never be revived.

And the Great Huntress of the Wilderness, Melmeris Greenhair would not lose to her victorious companions. With the speed of the Goddess of the Hunt Felantris herself, she let loose arrows after arrows, blessed by the Archpriest Yurunel chosen of Asteridas the Goddess of Healing herself, into the scores of the approaching hounds. So powerful was her draw that even the wind from her arrow's passing stripped the hounds of their flesh, leaving their diseased guts and dark heart exposed to the elements.

Then the celebrated, most pious, Priest of the Burning Will, Yasashar of Menosh, invoked the words of power, taught to him by the Goddess of Perseverance Galganis and the Holy Goddess Asteridas and banished the remaining hounds back to their masters in Halla.

Excerpt from Scholar Falmis's Legend of The Sundering, translated from an earlier Ormoran text.

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"My soles are starting to blister, Mikhal," Princess Feska whined as she rubbed her toes.

"We need to keep going, Feska. It can't be that much farther," Prince Mikhalir said to his little sister as he helped her get back on her feet.

"And what if this maze runs through all of Vel-Farnikk? I'm tired of having to run."

"We wouldn't even have to run if you hadn't insisted on stopping by every 'possible dead' creatures to gather something from their 'possibly dead' bodies."

"Hey, don't blame me! How was I to know he was still alive?"

"Poking a troll with a sharp dagger is always a bad idea, Feska. It doesn't matter if he was alive or dead."

"I had to try. Do you know how rare fresh troll bone marrow, canines, fat and heart muscles are? Even the dried and crushed ones costs a fortune in the open market. I could make even more effective Strongarm, Barkskin, Swiftness and Berserk potions with fresh ones."

"Wait, hold it. You said Strongarm, Barkskin and Swiftness potions were all made from trolls?

"Why yes, Strongarm requires extracts of troll bone marrow and crushed scorched troll muscles. Barkskin requires crushed scorched troll muscles and troll fat. Swiftness requires liquified troll fat so-"

"Please stop. I think I'm going to throw up."

"Oh come on, they're dead. And it's not like you're committing cannibalism. They're not human."

"Now that you mention it, is there any alchemical potion that uses any part of human body?"

"Well, there are a few. Such as Compassion, that requires the blood of a loving mother who recently gave birth. Ahanri's Intuition requires a small amount of fresh human brain added to the brains of a swallow, a raccoon and a deer in equal parts. I know a few more, but I can't think of any at the moment."

The prince gagged. "I need to start asking alchemists what their potions were made of before I bought them from now on."

"Oh it's totally fine. These were taken with permission. As for the brain, their families are handsomely paid for it. All alchemical regents of human origin requires a certificate before it can be sold. It is against Grandvaylian law to sell anything of human origin that was taken without permission and without a certificate proving that permission was given."

"I need to find a place to throw up. Excuse me please," the crown prince said as he turned around the corner and threw up the remainder of his dinner.

------

"So what's the story about?" asked a serving girl in short red gown and matching ribbons in her long dark hair as she placed a cup of steaming coffee on the table.

"A secret princess," Seo grinned as he took a sip from his cup.

"Oh, how does it go?" the girl asked.

"A young princess gets locked up in a tower by her brothers. Her brothers go to war, captured by the enemy, and her mother released her so she can go save her brothers. In the end, the girl saves her brothers and goes off to marry a prince from a faraway land and lives happily ever after," Seo said as he turned back to his writing.

"Oh that sounds exciting. Will it have fairy godmothers?"

"What? No, why would it?" Seo raised his head, confused.

"Will it have elves then?"

"Likely not!"

"How about trolls, or leprechauns. Or witches that eats children?"

"I don't see why it should be-"

"Ah! Wizards! It should have wizards! And a magic carpet, or at least a magic broom? How about a lamp..." the girl droned on as she walked back to the kitchen, not caring that nobody actually bothered to listen to her.

Seo instead crumpled the paper he was writing on and put them on one side of the table. "I forgot this is just for a tavern play," he said as he started on a new piece, putting great care in including fairy godmothers, elves, witches and magic brooms into the story.

------

"So... what are we looking for, actually?"

"Some treasures perhaps?"

The princess laughed, reminding the prince of an elven song he had heard while entering Velena's childhood home of Hsinnah.

"How old are you, really? You expect to find treasures while exploring a dungeon?" Feska laughed again.

"Shh," Mikhal took a sniff.

"What?" Feska asked.

"Did you smell that?"

"The sewer? Yes, definitely. How could I not, Mikhal?"

"No... I mean... nevermind. Watch your steps, Feska."

Annoyed, Feska said,"I always watch my steps, Mikhal."

"Good, stay behind me. Get your Flame Breath ready."

"Why? Something wrong?" she asked as she took out a thumb-sized vial containing a bluish liquid from the fold of her belt.

"Yes, keep close," Mikhal said as he turned left at the T junction.

They walked a bit further and noticed about the same time that the walls became cleaner and covered in carvings of things and writings that looked like it had been there for a very long time. Mikhal moved his torch nearer to one part of the wall. With that part now more visible, he studied the drawings and writings carved there.

"Can you read this, Mikhal?" Feska inquired as she came close and examined the wall herself. She assumed these were some kind of writings, but she had never seen any forms of writings using these squiggly lines.

"These forms," he pointed to the squiggly lines, "Resembles much of today's elven script, save for a few words I can't make out, probably words that are no longer in use and has been discarded."

"You can read elven?"

"Yes, one of my... associates... was an outcast elf. Learned a lot from her. Anyway, the rest of these letters, are a form of cuneiform of which our current Ormoran letters are derived from."

"Can you read it?"

"I can read a little of the elven script, but the Sidaran cuneiform is totally unknown to me. I can only read Strothon cuneiform, you see, and Sidaran cuneiform and Strothon... are you OK, Feska?"

Feska looked like she was about to faint. "Not OK. I just heard a lot of words that made what you said a total gibberish."

Mikhal sighed. "Theri did tell me that aside from alchemy, your education is lacking everything else. Okay, the letters that we use currently is called Ormoran, originating from an old city, which is now a ruin, called Ormor, which was supposedly the first city that stood after the calamity following the events now known as Fall of the Old Gods, from which our current dating system starts. You with me so far?"

Feska nodded.

"Now Sidar, is our continent, the place where our Granvayl Kingom stands. Lestraux, where I went to study for five years of my life is in another continent, called Stroth. Anything of Sidar, is called Sidaran. Anything of Stroth, is called Strothon. Now cuneiform is-"

"I know what cuneiform is. So what does it say exactly, Mikhal?"

"Now that's a little harder to say. I can say that the cuneiform here suggests that this wall was carved before the era of Grandis Empire."

"But didn't the Grandis Empire use cuneiform too?"

"Correct, but we know that the Grandis Empire had scribes that ensured high standard of grammar. There was no grammar here. It's like the person who carved this cared little for grammar. The same can't be said for the elven script. From the workmanship, I can conclude that it was carved by the same person, but I doubt this person was literate in both cuneiform and elven script. I also doubt that it was an elf who carved this because elves don't work with stone or rocks of any kind."

"I'm sorry, I didn't know any of that. Frankly, your nerdiness scares me. How can you tell all of this? I thought you can't read the cuneiform?"

"Explaining will take too long. Suffice to say I'm a genius, and I have reason to believe that this wall has been here for more than 6000 years."

"6000 years? Now wait a minute. You're saying that this wall has been here more than 4000 years Before Founding? 4000 years before the first and second king of the Meriseles Dynasty conquered Eastern Sidar and formed Granvayl Empire?"

"Yes, that was what I meant, Feska."

"But following the ancient texts, that would put it earlier than the creation of humankind by the Old God Granlain. If so then who'd carve it? You said yourself that it wasn't elves, Mikhal."

Mikhal chuckled. "The ancient texts are rarely true and never accurate. They were nothing more than ancient literature, dear sister."

"That's blasphemous, Mikhal. Granlain may have been an evil god, but the Voices of Granlain has been accepted by most temples as 'historical'."

The prince walked up to a large door at the end of the decorated tunnel and tried to push it open, with no luck.

"Are you listening to me, Mikhal?"

"Of course. You must think of their position, Voices of Granlain and other ancient texts were the only recollections from that period. We know that none of the victorious gods, apart from Festiciol, had any books older than 3000 years old, which was about the time when Eastern Sidar was repopulated by humans. This following the sudden disappearance of humans about 4500 years ago. If they don't have any answers for what happened thousands of years ago, how can they convince worshippers that the gods they preach of are real?" Mikhal answered while tapping on the large double stone door.

"That is a dangerous way of rationalizing it, Mikhal," Feska remarked.

The prince ignored her. He continued to push at the door with all his might. When it became clear to him that the door would not open, he stopped and wandered about in front of the door. He looked up and down, left and right, even the floor under him and still could not find any other means of opening the door.

All this was not lost to the princess. Feska leaned slightly beside her brother and taunted, "My big bad godless brother can't open a door now?"

"Quiet, Feska. I'm trying to find a hidden lever," the prince said as he started touching the carvings on the wall.

"Seriously?"

"Yes, I've seen these kinds of things before. Why don't you be a little more useful and start searching the other wall?" Mikhal said without looking back.

"You're talking as if I haven't done anything. Have you forgotten who defeated the undead spectres?"

"Shh, don't talk of them, they'll hear you."

"Fine, give me the torch."

"Ah no, this torch stays with me. Find your own light."

"Do you see any other torch here?"

"You have Fae Fyre, use that."

"Using Fae Fyre as a light source is an insult to good alchemy."

"Typical alchemist superstition. I'm not giving you my torch."

The princess growled. "Fine! Have it your way," she took out a vial filled with a bluish liquid at the bottom and a yellow dust with a thin layer of white dust between them apparently floating on the liquid and shook it vigorously. The two liquids resisted mixing, but where it mixed, it glowed with greenish light. Using the flat bottom of the vial to focus the direction of the light, Feska pointed it at the wall and started searching for the hidden lever.

"You carry Daemon Fyre around? That's very dangerous, my dear sister," the prince said without even looking at her.

"Oh, you know Daemon Fyre? I didn't know it can be found in Lestraux," she replied, also not looking back.

"Oh it can't. I just know of someone who was very fond of Daemon Fyre and regularly used it to incinerate living orcs and laughing with glee at the act," Mikhal answered without looking back.

"One of our cousins?" Feska asked also without looking back

"No, someone you wouldn't expect," Mikhal answered, still not looking back.

"That's not right," Feska turned around now, "Daemon Fyre is House Arnan's special recipe. We are the only ones who can create Daemon Fyre and we don't sell it to anyone."

"Because it's dangerous? Because of its ability to burn forever and incinerate anything it touches?"

"Not forever," she said, annoyed, "Just a few weeks."

"To the one on the receiving end, it wouldn't matter, Feska."

"Ohhh, this is getting nowhere!" she threw her hands in the air. She squatted down in front of the door and locating a fairly clean surface, poured a vial of powder and a quarter vial of some crystals before mixing them together with her bare hands. Then she took out two more vials, one filled with a murky, whitish liquid and another filled with a clear yellowish liquid and emptied both into the mix. She mixed them together carefully and slowly, kneading it for at least ten minutes until it turned into a doughlike stuff. Then she shaped it into a brick and pasted it onto the stone door.

Feska took out an empty vial, poured one part brimstone and two parts mercury into the empty vial until it was a little over halfway full and shook the mixture slowly, turning the vials as soon as she saw the bubbles settle. Then she pushed the stoppard pat of the vial deep into the doughlike brick and backed off. She grabbed her brother's sleeve and pulled as she started running.

"Feska?" the prince inquired.

"Nothing, just needed to get out of the area."

"What? I'm going back. Even if I can't find a hidden lever, at least I can study that wall. It must be the find of a lifetime."

"Okay, let me say this straight. If we're actually there, we will die, in more than a few pieces. Now get behind the wall," she pushed him a little rougher than she intended.

"Die?" Mikhal raised an eyebrow, which Feska didn't notice in the dark.

Feska rummaged under the folds of her belt and took out a vial glowing a dull red light. "Mikhal?" she waited until he turned to look at her, "Throw this for me?" she pushed the vial into his hands.

"What's this?" he asked as he examined the liquid inside the vial.

"Devil's Gaze. Shake it and throw it at the door," she said as she ran further away, "I can't do it myself, my hands are quite explosive right now. Try to throw it right in front of the door."

The prince shrugged, gave the vial a good shake and threw it at the door. Nothing could have prepared him for the flash of red light and the resulting explosion that rocked the whole labyrinth. He had to cover his head to avoid from being injured by the pieces of rocks from the ceiling.

When everything calmed down, Feska came forward and peeked around the wall the prince was hiding behind. Looking at the door, she examined the destruction, a gaping whole where the thick door used to be and exclaimed, "Perfect!"

The prince also looked around the corner, saw the destruction and shook his head as he said, "You are one crazy girl."

She lightly punched him in the arm. "This crazy girl is your sister!"

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Prince Altherion was sound asleep, dreaming of proposing to Lady Myra of Tesledhar when he was rudely thrown out of bed. He woke up immediately, got up thinking it was an earthquake and was about to run outside when it stopped. He tried to go back to sleep again, but failed. So he went to his reading room and spent the rest of the night reading 'A Revised Treaty On Battlefield Courtesy'.

*Wow, it's been a very long time since I've posted here. It seems like the last posting I've made was the previous christmas. Sorry guys, I was working 6 days a week 18 hours a day, that when I got home, I just wanted to lie down and die. I stuck with it for a year until I realized that I didn't have much time and resigned. Will try to write more soon, but I'll need to regain my passion for writing. I guess I wasn't kidding when I told him that I had lost my soul working there, even for the triple raise I got working with them. Now I just need to find something to do other than hoping my business gets off the ground.

As always, please read and if possible, give me some feedback. Praises helps me recover my motivation, but constructive criticisms will no doubt improve my skills. Thank you very much.