Peter Koevari - Prophecies Awakening

“Here is a map of the surrounding lands; it details where Helenia will be traveling. Worry not of the knight, as I already have a plan for… dealing… with Vartan. If you somehow manage to kill him yourself, it would save me a lot of trouble and would land you the role of military advisor to me as your new king."

Derian unrolled the scroll on the table and pointed out the exact location of the ambush.

"This is where I suggest you attack them. If all goes to plan, and you perform your duties without hesitation or incompetence, then the king’s famed knights won’t be around to protect him. Without the knights, we won’t have a problem. Now get to work and prepare. It’s time for my precious sister to have a little unfortunate accident.” Derian laughed darkly.

The man scoffed and snatched the scroll from the table. "We don't question the jobs we are given; we only question the payment. But I now see why your cold heart is truly worthy of Kassina's affections."

Derian grabbed the man roughly by the throat, and brought him close to growl in his ear. “Never forget who you are talking to! Did you bring me my special request?”

The mysterious figure forced away Derian’s hand angrily, reached into his coat, and slowly drew out a tall, dark bottle of liquid.

“ Never lay your hands on me! I am not one of your servants, and your moods have been unpredictable of late. The next time you grab me will be your last. I hope you appreciate how difficult it has become to fulfil your requests. People are beginning to grow suspicious of the disappearances…”

“Vartan! Vartan? Whatever is the matter with you?” asked Arman, who now stood from his throne.

Vartan drew another deep breath as his mind hazily returned to the present as if he was a sobering drunk. His head felt like a struck bell from the connection with the dragon’s mind, and he brought his hand up to his forehead in a useless attempt to ease the throbbing pain within.

Helenia stood confidently to address the room, but the look of concern on her face worried Vartan. “Father, the attack is not the fault of Sir Vartan. If he hadn’t protected us with his own life, I might not be here at all. By the gods, just look at him! He is clearly hurt. I suffered only a scratch and I am here to tell the tale of the ambush. Isn’t that what is most important?”

Arman turned his attention to his daughter and sat back down on his throne.

“My dear Helenia, you speak out of turn. Of course we are all relieved that you have returned to us. But until you have been asked to speak, I strongly urge you to display one of our most practised virtues-patience,” replied Arman.

Helenia sat back down heavily at her father’s reprimand. Her face reddened and her nostrils flared.

Arman turned to Vartan and cocked his head slightly. “From Helenia's reports and from what I know of you, you fought with honour, Vartan, and that I would not doubt. However, I simply cannot excuse the fact that Derian had warned you of a planned attack, and you chose not to heed his words."

The king stirred in his chair, "What else am I to do? This is a failure of your sworn duties as a knight, and therefore you simply must be punished. I cannot be seen to have laws for some and differing laws for others. Therefore, failure to heed such a warning carries serious consequences. You knew this the day you were knighted.”

Derian glowed with delight, a conniving smile dancing its way from ear to ear.

This was his plan for me all along? thought Vartan. Then I truly have nothing to lose. I must try to warn the king, no matter what the consequences are.

“Your Highness, I received no such warning from Prince Derian. Surely with your wisdom well beyond your years, you can see clearly when you are being fooled. Can’t you see that the prince longs to sit in your place as King of Greenhaven?”

Vartan shifted his gaze to Derian and pointed in his direction, his face turning grim as he growled the words of his accusation. “King Arman — Your Grace. It pains me to be the one to tell you that your own flesh and blood is the traitor, and that the gutless coward sits right beside you. His lies taint this very room, and poison your royal blood with his corruption and betrayal!"

Vartan smashed his fist into the ground in anger, the force of the blow sending shudders through the walls of the room. “Will it take the death of our beloved princess to make you see that Derian wants you dead?”

The prince’s calm smile turned instantly to a vicious scowl as he exploded from his seat. His voice broke and his body shook as he screamed, “These are all lies! How dare you accuse me without a shred of proof of this supposed treachery?”

He turned to the king. “Father, I demand that Sir Vartan be reprimanded immediately! I would never harm you, and if granted permission, I would kill Vartan myself for simply uttering these words.”

Arman gestured gently with his hand for Derian to sit back down before returning his gaze to Vartan. “I am afraid you have left me no other choice, Sir Vartan. However, your service to my throne is well-recognised by us all, and as such I will show you an appropriate amount of leniency. Guards, seize him. You are hereby banished from the city of Greenhaven, and are never to return. If you choose to ignore my order, you will face the executioner. May peace be with you always.”

Two towering guards approached and pulled Vartan up off the ground, marching him out of the throne room and towards the gates that led out of Greenhaven. His mind again filled with the dragon’s powerful words.

"My king! Remember my words!" cried Vartan.

Until we meet again, young knight… You are very brave indeed.

Meet again? Who and what are you? thought Vartan. His thought echoed in his mind as if it had been suddenly emptied.

The golden walls shook ferociously as Nymira launched herself off of them to dive freely into the humid air. She stretched out her wings to glide gently toward the earth before flapping them hard to begin her long flight back to Trahoterra, and a huge gust of wind blew past the guards escorting Vartan.

One of the guard's eyes widened as he blurted, “What in the name of Marithia was that?”

After a long pause with no answer, they both shrugged it off and continued on, letting the bustling sounds of the busy city drown out their concern. As they reached the main gate, other guards already had a horse prepared for Vartan, and sacks packed with supplies. A crowd had begun to build from all the commotion, and people stopped what they were doing to watch Vartan being taken to the waiting horse.

“Sir Vartan, you really must leave Greenhaven immediately, as we have to follow King Arman’s orders. But know that you leave the city with honour.”

Vartan nodded appreciatively to the men and swiftly mounted his horse as the main gate was gently lowered by its heavy chains.

“Vartan, you forget your armour,” said two guards in unison, displaying friendly smiles.

One of them held up his bloodied silver helm, and the other threw him a shiny new sword. He caught it with his right hand and brought it up to his face to admire the gift. Vartan tapped the blade against his helmet in customary acceptance and ran his fingertips over the weapon. The sword was still warm to the touch, and felt strong, but agile.

This is not the sword I thought I would leave Greenhaven with, thought Vartan as he let out a submissive sigh.

Vartan cocked his head and asked, “This is a sword of immense quality. May I ask what I have done to deserve this honour?”

The closest guard looked around to ensure that nobody else could hear them and whispered, “We heard of your ambush, and that your sword was damaged beyond repair in battle defending Helenia’s life. It must have been quite a fight to have wrecked a sword of Greenhaven. We trust that your replacement weapon will serve you well in your travels.”