Originally posted on Wattpad.
TW: Bullying/coercion, daddy issues
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Swish!
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My blade sang through the air, hacking into the training dummy, its straw spilling over the packed arena floor like the blood my sword had so recently drawn.
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Swish! Hack.
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I gritted my teeth as I buried the point deep into the training figure's gut. The dry scent of dust mixed with sweat filled the air as the sun beat down on the hard sawdust.
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The blade bit into the wood, steel cutting through easily.
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Its dark brown paint and light brown antlers were a pale imitation of the elf I'd seen in the forest. I paused before my next swing, the sword heavy in my hands. Each swing brought me back to the forest, to the moment his defiant gaze met mine.
I recalled his dark hair, his brown eyes burning into mine. The way the moon reflected in his irises, the leaves woven into his hair shining in the moonlight. The pain as his blade had sunk into my calf. How he'd kept running from me, even when I'd broken his ribs, he'd kept fighting. I admired that in a warrior. I regretted that I'd had to kill him. I couldn't deny the satisfaction of his fall, but a deeper part of me wondered if I had fought for the wrong side. Were they all as I had been taught, or was I simply blind to the truth?
I shifted my stance, wiping the sweat from my eyes. The elf had died. I couldn't change that, nor could I change that my hand was the one who struck the killing blow.
Swish!
I paused, sword about to strike the dummy. Its dark brown paint was chipped and flaking, a perfect portrayal of how my people saw the forest dwellers. Uneducated, savage, primal. I'd seen that side of them firsthand. I had seen their way of life—primitive, wild, and without shelter—but even so, it didn't align with the stories we'd been told. They didn't want our crown; they didn't lust for power. So why were we fighting?
I sheathed my golden blade, the sun's rays glinting down on the gold-embossed steel. The sunflower design stretched thinly down the middle, touching the tip before coiling down to the hilt. It was designed for ritual, not war, but necessity had driven me to find other uses.
I turned my face to the castle behind me. The sunflower banners fluttered in the wind, hanging from the turrets. Surely my father, the king, would be more aware than I. Perhaps he could provide some clarity.
~~~
My thighs burned as I hiked the stairs to Father's throne room, the wound in my calf throbbing still. Fit as I was, I made an effort not to come here unless I had to. These stairs seemed built just to torture me.
With an effort, I reached the imposing double doors. Father loved to look important and always had a flair for the grandiose as demonstrated by the golden motifs all over the entrance. The guards in the doorway bent their heads in respect as I passed, offering greetings of "Crown Prince" or "Your Royal Highness."
I pushed open the doors to reveal my father in a council meeting. My boots echoed on the marble floors, broadcasting my entrance.
"Ah, Prince Thosar. You're just in time." Father nodded approvingly. "Come, sit by me."
I dutifully sat by his side, listening in to the council member's talk. Of course, Father would act as though my entry was planned. Sol forbid he ever look anything but put together and perfect.
Where is the man who taught me how to fight? I wondered to myself. I had noticed my father withdrawing from me with age, his demeanour turning as frosty as his receding hair.
"The war with Baequinnanea is getting out of hand. There have been countless losses on both sides," a council member continued. "There must be a proportionate response."
"We're running low on morale, low on troops, and Baequinnanea's state is similar," a young female elf countered. Her name was Councillor Opeli, and she had long been an advocate for ending the war. "Neither of us has the resources to continue this war.
"So why do we?" I asked, surprising even myself with the impertinent question. I immediately regretted speaking, knowing my father's reaction would not be a pleasant one."
Murmurs filled the room, a wave of unease rippling through the gathered council. Some exchanged wary glances, others whispered furiously behind raised hands. My father's gaze snapped to me, sharp as the blade at my side. His expression gave nothing away, but the faint tightening of his jaw told me I'd crossed a line. Anger flicked through his eyes, replaced soon by calm.
The murmurs swelled until he raised a hand, silencing the room.
"An interesting question," he said, his tone even but laced with an edge. "One not often asked in these chambers. Tell me, Thosar, do you believe we fight without cause?"
I straightened, the eyes of every council member now fixed on me. My throat felt dry, but there was no turning back.
"I believe we fight because we always have," I said carefully. "But if both sides are suffering equally, what is the purpose? What do we gain by continuing to spill blood?"
"Victory," growled Councilor Larnus, a grizzled veteran with scars as old as my childhood. His role in the war had been brief, but costly, losing a son to the fight. "Victory over savages who threaten our way of life."
"Victory at what cost?" I shot back. "Our troops are exhausted. Our coffers are strained. If this continues, there will be no way of life left to protect."
"And what do you propose, Crown Prince? To bow to the forest barbarians and allow them to destroy our culture?" Larnus spat back, barely disguised venom in his voice.
"I suggest we try understanding them," I said, louder now. "We've fought so long that we don't even know why we started. Perhaps it's time we learn."
The room fell silent. My father's piercing gaze held mine, the weight of his authority almost unbearable.
Finally, he spoke, his voice low but resonant. "The prince raises a valid point. One worth considering."
The murmurs began again, softer this time, laced with uncertainty. My father leaned forward, his eyes narrowing.
"Councilor Larnus, you will draft a list of potential envoys. We will see if the forest folk are as unreasonable as we believe."
Larnus bristled but bowed his head. "As you command, Your Majesty."
He left with a glare, sending a brief shiver down my spine. My father spoke once more.
"Council, you are dismissed. Son. A word?"
Council members began to file out of the room, timid and quieter than I'd ever seen them.
I approached the raised dais upon which my father sat. His dark eyes glowered at me from beneath his golden crown, the stylized sunflowers contrasting their bright colour with his annoyed glare.
"Thosar, I am very disappointed in you. You turned my council against my word. You deliberately disobeyed me and to save face I had to agree to an embassy with the forest savages." His eyes were like hard chips of onyx, the stone walls of the council chamber seemed more welcoming than his expression.
I wilted like a flower in the hot summer sun, a sinking feeling in my gut. This is what I got for trying to be more proactive. Was nothing I did good enough for him?
"My apologies, Father." I bowed my head to him, hiding the shame in my eyes. I felt my hands itching to reach up to my scalp, instead finding their way to my forearms. I yanked out the longest hair I felt there, the sharp pain annoying but bringing a sense of clarity.
My father shook his head. In his face, I saw resignment, as if he did not wish this on me, but felt as thought he had no choice. "I am a king first, and your father second. You must obey me. Apologies are not sufficient. You challenged my authority in front of my council. You must atone."
He stood. "You have spoken as if you are wiser than your king. Now, prove it. Until you return with a peace agreement, you are no prince of Banniurdrenn—merely a messenger. Do not fail me, or you will remain as such forever, banished to be a nameless wanderer." The king turned on his heel and walked away, snatching the crown from my head as he did so.
I dropped to my knee in front of the empty throne, reeling. Titles gone? Exile? Banishment? And to top it all off, I would have to negotiate a peace with the forest dwellers. I shook my head.
"I guess I'll just have to do it then. Six weeks. To get the forest dwellers to agree to peace. It can't be that hard...right?"
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I really liked writing this, hopefully you enjoy reading it! Please leave me comments, I love reading what you liked/didn't like/thought/laughed at. Have a great day/night.
AAAAAAND IF YOU'D GENTLY BONK THAT VOTE BUTTON I'D GREATLY APPRECIATE YOU M'THEYDY
Word count: 1508 words
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