Rift
A Story by Randomness
Also,
The Rite of Akos Frost,
And the beginning of many more to come,
Chapter 2: The Judge
The warmth of his bed wrapped around him, a serpent tempting him back into sleep. It constricted, sapping the little energy in his limbs before he even awoke.
A familiar voice called from beyond the doors of silver. “Prince Akos, you have guests.”
“Hmm… Commander Blossom- give me a minute.”
The Prince continued to lie there still, waiting for the willpower to begin his day.
Eventually, Akos forced himself to stand up and to don a robe of purple and gold, swaying on his way to the door. Four people stood together in the corridor, conversing about something or other. When they caught sight of him, three bowed low and the fourth smiled.
“Lord Frost.”
“Your highness.”
“Your highness.”
“Akos!”
The fourth being a young man, with dark hair of a length similar to Akos’, and sharp, sparkling grey eyes. He wore an oversized coat, which obstructed his movement as he made to embrace the Prince. A pair of large wings folded behind his back, soft yet strong and muscled, sprouting from his back through holes in the coat.
“Dulzura? Why are you here?” he asked, returning the deep embrace.
“For you, of course. And your birthday.”
The two behind him were wearing similar coats, carrying golden spears engraved with many runes. On their chests, an embroidered thread of gold woven into the image of a gemstone encrusted gavel, gave Akos a small hint of surprise. “A Judge? You’re a Judge?”
“I am, I apologise I couldn’t tell you. The highest councils in Grandia had me sworn to secrecy.”
A newfound respect shook the Prince, he himself wanted to bow down on a knee, and list words of recognition for such an achievement, however Dulzura would not have let himself be above a friend. “The youngest as well, I assume. One of three chosen by the Law Above, I must admit friend, this is quite a surprise.”
Another hand touched Akos’ back, it was the Commander. “Happy birthday, Akos, if you’d let me be so informal.”
A smile took her face from end to end, lighting it up like a pale candle, which the young prince reciprocated.
“That’s fine Iri, today is a day for celebration. Dulzura a judge… Get Zion will you, meet me down at the Western Courtyard.”
She nodded, her smile not fading, and walked away with her hair flowing in a current of silver. After a moment’s hesitation, Akos turned back towards his friend, looking at the two stoic guards - peacekeepers - with awe. “Well, I’ll just get ready I suppose. Wait here, Dulzura.”
The Judge nodded, and turned away to inspect a nearby tapestry.
Akos returned to his room and located a stone basin of water, splashing the cold liquid onto his face, before dressing in neat, but comfortable attire. He took a single, deep breath and stepped back out to face Dulzura.
“Alright, Follow me then.”
The Judge smiled, “Before we head down…”
One of the Peacekeepers raised a small birdcage they were carrying under their arm. An elegantly feathered falcon sat in it, ruffling its feathers in impatience.
Akos smiled, “Tobias?”
“Intelligent bird there, your Majesty. Denied its orders to deliver the message to its rightful owner.” said the Peacekeeper.
Tobias spent the next minute taking the attention of the group for himself, until his boredom took over and he spread his wings, flying off to somewhere else to the amusement of the few.
The Prince led the Judge and his guards through the sprawling palace, down some eloquent staircases all crisscrossed in the maze of royalty. They went through a dining room, where fires and candles were being lit and plates were being prepared, through a set of doors as grand as the rest of the palace, and across a loggia which bordered the snow covered courtyard. A few soldiers seemed to be training with wooden sticks in substitute for swords, but the atmosphere was silent and bleak - until broken by Commander Blossom’s ever jovial smile. “Your Highness, as you requested, Commander Zion.”
Mordred Zion was a tall, powerful man with hair cut close to his head. Most likely in his late 30’s, he hadn’t quite been affected by age but he held his head high, and no youthful inexperience would follow. His armour was marked with both a falcon, and a goldfinch, standing on the stem of a rose, shined golden like the wrapping around the longsword on his back, and the uniquely shaped blade by his waist. Zion chose to use a falchion, with one heavy, single edged blade.
The snow crunched with a satisfying sound, under the heavy boots of the soldiers.
“Happy birthday, Your Highness,” he said, with a small nod. Taking a second to look around the bright sheet around them, Akos pointed towards a rack lined with short wooden swords, “Care for a spar, Dulzura?”
The Judge nodded sharply, and sauntered over to take two of the mock-blades. Handing one to the Prince and holding his own out in front, he whispered. “Your move, Akos.”
The sticks collided with a splitting crack, and both swordsmen recoiled slightly, drawing their swords across to shield themselves. Akos stabbed forwards, kicking up a burst of snow into Dulzura’s face, whilst he stretched out his two huge wings, leaping up into the air with a twist, swooping back down towards the Prince, blade outstretched. Bright flashes of blue rippled through the air, and arrows of ice flew through the empty space towards the Judge, who deflected or dodged the sharp points. In a sudden movement, they both stood at each other’s side, holding the wooden lumps at the throat of the other.
“Well played, Dulzura,” smirked the Prince. “Well played indeed. The only difference between me and you right now, is that my Guards have guns.”
He laughed, “Aha… very funny Prince Akos. Dulzura nodded, smiling in thought, only to be disrupted by the young Commander Blossom.
“Care to spar, my Lord?” She said, picking up a weapon of her own, “I don’t duel with a blade often, but exceptions can be made.”
Prince Akos looked up towards her. “Ir- Commander. I would be delighted to.”
Zion and the Judge stepped back as the pair brandished the wooden weapons at each other, moving around in a circle through the snow. Iri stepped forwards, deflecting a strike from Akos and taking his wrist into her hand, pulling his sword away from her. He wrestled to regain control, clicking his fingers in a pale blue blast of cold air. Ice formed in crystals around her tightly held fist. As she made to brush them away, the Prince regained control and brought his sword down, quickly parried by the Commander in an elegant twisting motion, as she brought herself forward and knocked Akos to the ground.
With the sudden blast of an explosion, and the smell of burning, Akos was stumbling already before he opened his eyes. A young Mordred Zion ushered him along - more tired and less scarred.
The corridors were long, pale moonlight shone through a wall set with windows, where a thud sent glass, fractured and flying through the air, a few shards embedding into his back. “Keep going, keep going.” Was the only encouragement he got.
More running, stumbling. Eyes blurred and half closed.
“Young Captain Blossom, Please - take the Prince and hide. I fear that the cannonfire is more targeted than it usually is. Good girl.”
A soft, warm hand took his arm and gently led him into darkness. A candle was lit, clearing the black veil hanging over them. A girl, no older than him knelt there, as he lay down on the hard floor. She smiled, eyes sparkling in the flame.
“Lord Frost.” She said, quietly. “I’m Captain Iri Blossom, Of the Royal Guard.”
“Prince Akos Frost, pleased… to meet you.” He murmured, wincing in pain.
“Youngest member of the Guard. I joined a few years back, before the war.”
She looked at him. “Will you let me tend to the wounds you carry, My Lord?”
Akos only made the slightest nod, but Iri had already taken the robes off his back, and was gently taking each splinter of glass out, clearing away any blood left.
“Your hands are warm…”
She looked up from her work, “Lord Frost?”
He shook his head. “Don’t worry about it. How old are you? You don’t look older than myself.”
“Fifteen. I- I always wanted to fight for my country. Now I’m here, wasting away my youth in a war nobody wanted.”
She sighed, and moved slightly towards the Prince, who after a moment of consideration said, “You shouldn’t be in the Guard. You can’t join until you’re sixteen. I should discharge you immediately and then you can live a normal life.”
Sadness flashed in her face. “If I wasn’t a guard, that’s one less person to protect my country. And besides, you aren’t the Heir of Impexis, you don’t have military power,” she finished in a matter-of-fact tone, despite her eyes showing nothing but concern.
The Prince nodded in understanding, wiping away tears from his face. “Please, Captain. Don’t mind me.”
His hand touched hers, clasping it tightly as the night dragged on with the sound of guns.
The Prince opened his eyes, kneeling on the floor. Iri held out her hand, “Good duel, Your Highness. You’ve improved greatly.”
He took her hand, and she helped him stand up, brushing some snow off of his clothes. Akos blinked a few times in the blinding white, feet firmly on the ground in the present day. The war was over. It was just a memory.
“Very well done…” A voice boomed in a drum-like sound across the courtyard. A heavily robed, large and muscled man stood behind them, a beard of brown hair gently moving in the wind, and a scar pointed upwards from it towards his eyes.
In an instant, Dulzura, his entourage, both commanders and everyone else in the courtyard dropped down on one knee. Akos stood there. “Father, what a pleasant surprise.”
The King looked over the line of kneeling people. “I’m glad you’re enjoying yourself, Akos. I’m further pleased that you have a group of capable people around you, just remember that some like young Commander Blossom over here aren’t afraid to fight closer than a blade can be swung. You’ve been blessed with powers many dream of, remember that,”
He took a moment to pause, looking closely at the Judge.
“Lord Winters of the Courts, would you please join us for a meal? We’ve a feast being prepared to celebrate Akos reaching adulthood.”
The king bowed his head low, towards Dulzura. “I would be honoured, Your Majesty.”
After a few words, the King turned and led the party through the grand set of doors leading to the dining hall. A strong, rich smell of food hit them, with the clatter of silver plates all being lined neatly on tables. The expansive hall had four of them, long benches, each one slightly higher than the last. The highest had a row of large chairs backing it, behind them a huge fireplace which blazed with large logs crackling. A buzz of a crowd filled the room, armoured military officers, well dressed nobles, local merchants. The tall, white crowned, pale woman walked swiftly towards the group, followed by two men armoured in black, dark metal which didn’t shine like the garments of the rest of the proudly polished soldiers. She spoke in barely a whisper to the King. “Ledus, My dear. The Stamstani Guard have returned, the Weapon has been retrieved.”
A look of concern passed over his face and vanished, “Thank you, darling. I’ll sort it out later.”
Akos turned towards Iri, facing her eyes with a smile. “Commander Blossom, please may you accept my invitation for a seat at the High Table?”
