The battle was won the moment the enemy Sybarians the heroes fought gave up and ran the moment the portal was explosively closed. The plan was supposed to be foolproof, even with the interference of the opposing agents that they were aware of since their infiltration. They simply delayed the grand plan; that of replacing the royal family of Manarithia and its government for the benefit of their benefactors.
But it all went to smokes the moment the Kal'Adre blew the portal and cut off their reinforcement. Such an unexpected turn of event would surely drain the Sybarians of whatever morale they had left. Unfortunately for these shadow agents, they found themselves stranded in the middle of an alliance between the Manarithians and their opposition, which found themselves either killed or captured en masse. Some managed to slip away, which could mean trouble.
Nevertheless the Manarithians and their allies took victory that day, even if they suffered a devastating loss.
Grant checked the lingering magick signature of the portal. He sensed a flow of corrupted magick from the other side of the portal, one that was abruptly cut off the moment it closed in an explosive fashion. The lingering signature was connected to the reinforcements.
“Vyrnian magick. As I suspected,” said Grant to Eliani. “Did you expect this to happen?”
“I never used my weapons against anyone using Vyrnian magick,” said Eliani. “But I take this as a success of our experiment.”
Grant raised one of his eyebrows.
“Experiment?”
"This alloy was made in response to what we discovered during the Rogarian War," said Eliani, showing Grant the blade of one of her dagger, caked with blood. She wiped off the blood, planning to clean it more thoroughly later.
"From Orsini's grimoire?" he surmised.
“You guessed it,” said Eliani. “To think we're facing the same enemies from ten years ago. I never thought it's happening again.”
“Yeah. I'm glad you carry those weapons with you. Otherwise, this whole incident may have a different ending.”
“Your warning helps too, Grant,” said Eliani with a smirk. She immediately went for a hug. “Oh, how I missed you, old friend. You haven’t changed a bit after these past ten years.”
“Thank my elven heritage,” he said, hugging her back.
His eyes caught the sight of Bartlett, who smirked and crossed his arms, watching his old friend.
“Well, well,” said the human. “Ten years living among the trees makes you quite a hugger. How’s the salad?”
Grant chuckled. “They’re fucking raw, if you’re asking.”
There was a silence between the two after Eliani broke the hug. Anyone who did not know them well enough would think that they were insulting one another, but what happened next dispelled the fact.
Grant walked to his old friend, glad that Bartlett still had that playful attitude after everything that had happened. Bartlett was just glad that his friend was still around and did not change as much, at least on the outside. Like he said, his elven heritage helped keep his youthful appearance, even when he was already close to fifty at this point.
And they both hugged one another, with Bartlett patting Grant’s back to tell him that he missed his friend so much, both chuckling to one another.
"Welcome back, Barty," said Grant. "How's Roddy?"
“He’s doing well,” said Bartlett. “I started to see white in his beard, but that’s to be expected. He took in assistants, believe it or not.”
“Assistants?” said an astonished Grant. “He never told me he had assistants. I thought he’s against all that.”
“He changed. We all do,” said Bartlett.
The happy reunion, unfortunately, was cut short by a cry. Someone at the throne cried for help, and all three heroes of Rogaria came to his aid. It was already too late.
Grant was the first to kneel to the person calling for help, the crown prince of Manarithia. He saw the king’s bloodied form, breathing raggedly. He was dying. Healing spells could help, but Grant was no healer.
“Where's the doctor?! Call the doctor!” cried out Grant to anyone listening. “Now, goddamn it!”
“N-no,” said the king. “I’m done for, Kanagher. Do not waste your breath.”
Grant tried to hide his surprise that the king of Manarithia, who he only met once, remembered him. He hid it well by keep calling anyone, whether it was the cleric with healing chants, healers healing spells, or doctors with regular medical expertise.
“Father, no! We can’t afford to lose you!” said the distraught crown prince. “What will this kingdom become?!”
“This kingdom will survive after me. You…will make sure of it. I know you will, my son. You have been ready a long time ago. Now…Now is the time you take the throne.”
The prince could have protested, but he bit his lip. It was all as unexpected as life could be, as the crown prince did not expect his father to die such a violent death. But alas, it was bound to happen.
“Kanagher,” said the king. His tone suggested that he knew this would be the last time they would talk. Grant realized this and reluctantly stopped calling, instead focusing his attention to the king.
“I know we only have met once ten years ago," said the king . "And I know you have reservations of serving me. But you cannot turn your back against this kingdom, not when we are at the brink of defeat. Help my son. Be the hero this kingdom needs."
“I….” Grant set aside his selfish thoughts and grab the king’s hand. “I’ll try, sire. Let the prince be the witness of my promise.”
“Then…I bid you farewell….”
The king’s breathing slowed as he closed his eyes. Moments later, his grip weakened. Grant put his hand on the king’s chest, then took the bloodied crown nearby. Its presence in the royal court meant that court was in session when the incident happened.
Grant turned to the prince. He was staring in disbelief, tears streaming down his eyes. His father still had enough strength and wisdom to lead the kingdom. He was planning to retire from the government and let his eldest child, the crown prince, deal with court situations while maintaining the crown until the end of his days. Those plans were tragically cut short.
If it was a different situation, Grant would only honor the king's wishes reluctantly. But he knew the crown prince. He knew Gareth. They were friends, and hopefully still are.
“Gareth, I know you think you're unprepared to bear the burdens,” said Grant. “But you’re the king now.”
“Yes,” said the prince, wiping off tears and blood from his face before receiving the crown. “I am the king now, and I will honor my father’s sacrifice. I have to be ready if I want to see this kingdom survive and prosper until the time of my children. I'm just glad you came when I need you the most, Grant, old friend.”
Grant nodded, assuring the new king that he did too.
“Tell me what happened,” implored Grant.
“Our advisors….” Gareth turned his head towards the bodies of the nobles, or Sybarians wearing noble clothes, near the throne. “They started insulting us before saying some foreign words. Moments later, they were being attacked from behind by some guards. It devolved into a chaotic brawl. Richard, our court wizard, was slain when his magick was sealed. Father, he…protected me from one of those lizards. Then the portal opened, and you all came.”
“We were slightly late,” said Grant with a sigh. “I’m just glad you survived.”
“I’m the one who should be glad. I never thought you, Bartlett, and Eliani returned after Rogaria in our time of need. Fate must have brought you together against a new evil.”
“Yeah. Fate is weird that way." Grant helped the new king to a nearby, smaller chair, usually reserved for the city's steward, who was, unfortunately, a Sybarian in disguise. “Please, have a seat. I’ll try and explain everything.”
King Gareth sat on a nearby bench, not feeling ready to sit on the throne that just moments ago was the seat of his father, the late king. Grant did not think much of this and started explaining everything he learned from Lizelith, about the massacre of the Wyrithian Royal family and the deception that followed, about the Sybarians disguising themselves as part of the royal staff, and about the conspiracy that would surely be the end of the kingdom if not for their timely arrival. The king listened to him intently, knowing that this could determine the future of the kingdom that he now governed.
Even so, his reaction was that of disbelief and bewilderment. Everything was so unexpected. Even more unexpected was the fact that they had Sybarian allies working in the shadows, all of which surrendered to the remaining guards upon the success of their mission. Their fate was in king Gareth’s hands.
“So, these…Sybarians,” he started. “They fought in the shadows of the kingdoms, and they were responsible for all the debacle that led to our war with Wyrith?”
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“They are fighting among themselves, which also happens to be in our interest after the truth comes out,” said Grant. “I don’t know the details. You should ask them yourself, sire.”
“I believe I should. It’s just…I should’ve suspected something is amiss when princess Henrietta accused me of something I never did. Of course, it did not matter much, not with public opinion going against her which, sadly, lead to this unnecessary war. But if I knew the princess was an impostor, the whole situation could have been prevented."
“It’s impossible to know,” said Grant. “The Sybarians are good with subterfuge.”
“It’s a shame. I don't want to say that it works for the best, not after I learned what happened. I never loved her beyond my duty as a future king, but that might have changed if I have met her. I should’ve cursed the impostor, not the princess.”
“Sire, if I may,” said Bartlett, stepping forward and bowing. “You might have the chance to tell her that yourself.”
“What are you talking about, Bartlett?”
“Well…there is something you should know about. I met her during my self-exile near the Manarithia-Wyrith border. I haven’t had a chance to tell this fact to Grant but now should be the right time.”
“Say it, then.”
“Henrietta survived. But as a dragon.”
There was a short silence between them before king Gareth said, “You’re kidding.”
“I wish I could. Eliani can vouch for me. Perhaps her own words can put this whole misunderstanding to rest.”
Gareth raised one of his eyebrows. “If my friend says it, then I’ll believe it. I know you’re still as honest as you were ten years ago. We will talk about that later. For now, we have a more pressing matter to talk about.”
The newly appointed king immediately stood and ordered his guards to stand down, stopping them from throwing the surrendering Sybarians into the dungeon. After listening to what Grant had to say, he was inclined to believe that the surrendering Sybarians were there because they had something to say. Perhaps they could be the allies that the Manarithians needed in the coming war.
He approached them with Grant, Eliani, and Bartlett beside him as guards. Grant pointed him towards the one with big frills, the Sybarian Grant knew as Lizelith. The king, however, addressed all the Sybarians in the court.
“Greetings,” said the king, keeping a cordial, but formal, tone. “I am Gareth of Manarithia. As the appointed leader of my subjects, it is my duty to deal with any dangers that befall them. The tragedy that befell my family and the deception that ran deep in my court is…unnerving. And unforgivable.
“I wish to prevent any more bloodshed, and to root out this corruption in my government. It would be understandable if they were my own people, but you are clearly not, as you wore the skins of my subjects and pretend to subject to my father’s rule, bless his soul. But I am not my father. I believe you owe me an explanation as my subjects.”
This declaration caused the soldiers and the three heroes to be shocked into audible gasps and murmurs. The Sybarians were also surprised by the king’s declaration.
“Sire, if I may,” started Grant. “On what basis do you consider them your subjects?”
“They wore the skins of the people of Manarithia. Foreigners or not, the fact that they have not rose suspicions meant that they wore their skins well. Even if they claim otherwise, they showed their obedience to the rules and laws of Manarithia by surrendering and fighting against the invaders. Until proven otherwise, they are Manarithians.”
“Isn’t that a bit too convenient?” asked Eliani. “If one of them are enemy agents….”
“Then we won’t hesitate to either throw them into the dungeon or execute them, as an enemy to this kingdom. Which is why it is imperative for them to prove their loyalty to Manarithia, or risk the pain of incarceration.”
“That's a good point,” remarked Grant.
“So, for your own sake, you will explain everything,” said the king to the Sybarians. “For the sake of this country, and for dealing with the woes of an unnecessary war. But before that, you will swear your loyalty to me.”
The Sybarians were unsure of what to do. This was unprecedented. They had survived this long by maintaining their anonymity, but now they were exposed to the whole world just because they were trying to save the royal family. They all looked at each other, unable to come up with an answer.
“Do you have anything to say, Lizelith?” asked Grant.
Lizelith immediately stood forward, stopping the murmurs among the lizard people.
“Iam Lizelith, leader of this group of Sybarians,” said Lizelith. “I shall represent my people and swear my fealty to you, king Gareth. But on one condition. We wish to fight alongside you, not as your prisoners. Promise us that, and you shall have our loyalty.”
The king did not immediately answer. It was clear that he was contemplating this fact. He was sure that his people, out of fear of the unknown, would object to her condition. They were, after all, responsible for the attack on Aldimar. There was no guarantee that it wasn’t a protracted attempt on undermining the kingdom.
But the king was willing to cast his bet on their cooperation.
He simply made a nod, to the surprise of those present in the court.
“Then I shall explain everything,” said Lizelith. “To the best of my knowledge.”
Lizelith’s explanation, helped by some of her comrades, took an hour or so to explain. The king did not stop her, letting her continue her explanation in silence. There was an uncomfortable silence among the guards, who were unsure what they should do. The sight of the handful of lizard people, some of whom were someone they knew and even friends with, who turned out to be someone else entirely, caused them to question whether they were sincere or not.
One of the guards, however, chose not to react to this in anger, and instead out of curiosity. He approached a Sybarian, restrained by ropes and kept under guard, who did not have the chance to change out of his guard uniform. This guard was one half of the pair that protected the entrance to the court, who saw some of the guards reveal themselves as Sybarians and started attacking their fellow guards.
This guard was shocked and was unable to defend himself when one of the undisguised Sybarians rushed towards him. He would have been killed if it wasn’t for the other throne room guard to dash in front of him and defended him from certain death. The guard was human, so it was impossible for him to dash so quickly. That’s when he looked down and saw his reptilian claws, moments before his tail grew out and ripped a hole in his clothes and his face exploded to reveal a reptilian maw underneath.
This act made the guard unsure if he should consider this Sybarian, who just an hour ago was his friend and comrade, an enemy. The only way for him to know for sure was to ask, and he did just that.
“Hey,” said the guard towards his comrades guarding the Sybarians. “I need to speak to them.”
The guard gave a quizzical look towards him.
“You sure?” he asked.
“Yes,” replied the first guard. “He saved me. I want to ask him something.”
The guard was still unconvinced.
“Look. He’s tied up and is going nowhere.” He put his hand on his sword. “I know what I’m doing.”
This seemed to convince the guard somewhat, so he silently let the other guard through. He slowly approached the Sybarian who he thought to be his partner.
From up close, this Sybarian looked so much like a type of lizard that the guard recognized from the castle walls. His scales were, at first glance, black, but it was actually dark blue. It was decorated with white stripes scales running down from his maws to his tail. His head had a yellowish hue, while his tail was solid blue in color and was as long as his body. His eyes were black with nothing but white dots that reflected the light could be seen. He looked noticeably different from the rest, who had more prominent yellow, reptilian eyes.
“Claude,” said the guard. The Sybarian, recognizing his voice, turned to him. He could see his friend’s expression being a mix of intrigue and guarded.
“I’m…sorry,” said Claude, his voice sounded husky and whispery. “For deceiving you, Hector.”
“That’s fine,” said Hector, forcing a smile. “It's still difficult for me to think that you're someone else, but I know you’re risking your life doing this. It’s just…weird. I want to believe you’re Claude, but you’re clearly not. So, I just want to know if our friendship is just—”
“Don’t say it’s a fraud,” interrupted Claude. “I enjoyed your company as much as the others in the barracks. I enjoyed the drinks we had during our downtime. But part of me knows it won’t last forever. Sooner or later, I must reveal the truth and leave you and the others. But I assure you that I am not going to harm you.”
“I can see that.” Hector sighed. “So, what now?”
“Our fate is in your king’s hands now. Our leader seems to know what she is doing, but in the end, his decision is the final say. I doubt he’s going to be unfair. We both saw how he visited the barracks. He is going to be a good king, Hector. I just wish it's on a different time.”
“And when they decide to free you…let’s have a drink, if your current form's okay with it. You’re still Claude to me, the same as the rest of your comrades. I am not going to let those five years be wasted.”
Claude smirked, evident from the end of his lips curving up.
“My name…my real name, is Corazo.”
“Corazo, eh? Did you choose Claude because it sounds similar?”
Corazo laughed. “How did you guess?”
Hector and Corazo then continued their cordial conversation, with none of the guards objecting to their renewed friendship.
Nearby, Bartlett and Eliani witnessed this newfound relationship. Eliani was surprised that it did not turn out to be similar to the Aldimar situation, where everyone suddenly became suspicious of one another. Whether it was due to different acceptance of culture, or due to the complicated situation, she couldn’t tell. The treatment against the gnolls was initially hostile due to what they did in the war. Eliani certainly thought the same thing as her people did. It took her years before she started seeing them as they were: a victim of circumstances.
“I’m sure it will be fine for them,” said Bartlett, who noticed her staring at the two new friends. “They have a leader who can speak for them. Can’t say the same for the Dromedian in Aldimar, though. I wonder what his name is.”
“There was no one to vouch for his innocence when he was caught,” said Eliani. “The one who could vouch for him ended up rejecting him once his true nature was revealed.”
“I can understand his reaction. Thomas only ever knew them as the monsters who killed his family in front of his eyes. The fact that his friend is in fact one of them must’ve caused him to panic. I’m just glad that it did not turn deadly.”
“It is our nature to be wary of anything we don’t understand, especially towards those we only saw as the enemy.”
“Only time will tell,” said Bartlett. “Though knowing what you went through, I’m sure he can be as forgiving.”
The two reunited lovers held hands and smiled to one another, with Eliani letting out a toothy grin. Corazo and Hector saw this, as with the guards and Sybarians.
“Are they really…?” asked Corazo.
“I guess they are,” said Hector. “I’ve never seen a human hooking up with a Kal’Adre before.”
Eliani heard that and hissed at them.
“Do you mind?” she hissed.
Hector and Corazo simply shook their heads as an apology.
Then, something happened.
Loud footsteps echoed through the hallway. The guards, still on edge from the recent attack, were ready for battle. The person running through the corridor was unopposed as she ran towards the throne room, mostly due to most of the guards being posted within the throne room to guard the new king. Thus, when she ran through the damaged door, she was greeted by several guards pointing their swords at her, causing her to abruptly stop in fear. She looked around, assessing the situation, and realized that she had come at the wrong time.
She was saved from questioning by one of the guards recognizing her uniform. Only one group in Manarithia wore a leather coat and riding gear with a helmet on.
“Wait!” he said. “She’s a dragon rider!”
“Can’t chance it!” said another guard. “She could be a Sybarian in disguise!”
“No, she’s not!” said one of the Sybarians, before switching to an unknown language, presumably the Sybarian's.
“(If you are a Sybarian, you should understand what I’m saying).”
The dragon rider did not heed what the Sybarian said, clearly not understanding it.
"See? She didn't even heed my words!" exclaimed the Sybarian.
The standoff was soon broken by the king.
“Stand down, everyone,” he said with a firm tone. The guards immediately followed his orders. He then turned to the dragon rider. “Do you have something to say, rider?”
The dragon rider was still assessing the situation she found herself in, which caused her not to heed her king’s orders.
“The king asks you a question, lady,” said Grant, who walked towards her and tapped her shoulder in the confusion.
“O-oh!” she said, snapping out of her confusion. She immediately kneeled, a standard protocol for someone having an audience with the king (though she was sure he was the crown prince). “I am here to report a disturbance in Aldimar.”
“Aldimar?!”
There were murmurs and surprised gaps. They heard the town’s name a month ago, when the Sybarians attacked. Now, there was another attack, with a dragon rider as a witness.
But despite all the surprise, the highest authority in the room, the king, calmed everyone down, and said the words that would let the dragon rider began the story.
“Then let this court hear it.”
