James Wyatt: Oath of Vigilance

“Father,” Albanon mumbled as he rose.

“And you have brought a mortal man into my hall. Therefore, I assume that this is not a social visit. You might as well come quickly to the point.”

Albanon bristled, but struggled to keep his face and voice from showing his anger. “A tower stands on your lands, beyond the Plain of Thorns. We seek your permission to visit this tower.”

The Prince of Thorns scoffed and waved one clawlike hand dismissively. “Ridiculous,” he said. “The Whitethorn Spire has been abandoned for generations. None of our people venture there any more.”

“With respect, father, we’d like to change that.”

“It’s sure to be infested with monsters.”

“We believe we can take care of ourselves.”

“Can you? Then your studies must be coming along very well indeed.”

“Moorin taught me much before his death, and I have had several opportunities to practice my magic in dangerous circumstances.”

“Your teacher is dead? I told you, Albanon, humans are so short-lived. If you had studied with Darellia-”

Albanon interrupted, steel in his voice. “Moorin was murdered.”

“How unfortunate.” The prince’s voice was not the least bit sympathetic, and Albanon felt Splendid stir on his shoulder, growling softly.

“Father, just grant us your permission to visit the tower and we’ll leave your hall and trouble you no more.”

“What do you seek there?” the Prince of Thorns asked. “I told you, the tower is long abandoned.”

“With all due respect, Your Eldritch Majesty,” Kri said in perfect Elven, “Sherinna’s tower is abandoned because her son refused to fulfill the duty his mother laid on him at her death.”

The Prince of Thorns sat up taller on his throne, glaring at Kri for a long moment before turning his attention back to Albanon. “I never cease to marvel at the ways of humans,” he said. “They can be taught to speak, but they cannot learn manners.”

Kri drew himself up, and Albanon could feel the power gathering around him. The air shimmered with it, and even the Prince of Thorns seemed to diminish slightly in the face of it. Kri’s voice rumbled like distant thunder in the hall. “Sherinna was the sole custodian of knowledge that might prove to be vital to the fate of the world. She intended for her heir to safeguard that knowledge after her death, but her son refused and humans took on that responsibility. Now three hundred years have come and gone, and I am the last member of the order founded to take on the burden that you refused.”

Albanon stared at Kri. The founder of the Order of Vigilance had been Albanon’s own grandmother?

The Prince of Thorns stood, and Albanon took an involuntary step back. Kri’s wrath was like a nimbus of divine power around him, but it paled in comparison to the raw fury of the Prince of Thorns. The room darkened and seemed to constrict, the thorny decorations of the throne loomed behind him, and the prince himself seemed to tower above them and at the same time to lean hungrily forward like some feral predator.

“Do not presume to lecture me about my duty, human,” he said. “I am the Prince of Thorns. My duty is to this land and the people who dwell in it. You have no claim on me.”

Kri did not recoil from the Prince of Thorns’s anger. In fact, he presumed to step forward as he tried to argue. “But the fate of the world-”

“The fate of your world is not my concern.”

Albanon swallowed. He had to try to calm both men before the argument turned into something worse. He put a hand on the priest’s shoulder. “Kri, there is no need to cast blame for what has already happened. The Order of Vigilance took up my grandmother’s burden after her death, and that is all that matters. Perhaps it was meant to happen that way-after all, isn’t it fitting that the knowledge needed to save the world should lie with the humans of the world, and not hidden away in the Feywild?”

Kri’s gaze stayed fixed on the Prince of Thorns, but he took a slow breath, and the palpable aura of anger around him diminished slightly. “No doubt Ioun saw to the preservation of that knowledge,” he said.

“And Father, whether you knew it or not, you acknowledged our family’s role in preserving that knowledge when you allowed me to study with a wizard of the order.”

The Prince of Thorns also seemed to diminish slightly, and he let his eyes stray to Albanon. “Of course I knew it, my fool of a son.”

Albanon blinked. “You did?”

A hint of a smile crossed his father’s face, and he settled back into his throne. “And so with you, the legacy of the Order of Vigilance passes once more into Sherinna’s family.”

“You intended that all along?” Albanon said. “Then what are we arguing about? Why not just grant us permission to visit the tower and be done with it?”

“You still have not told me what you seek in the Whitethorn Spire.”

Kri smiled and leaned on his staff, suddenly seeming old and harmless once more. “I believe, Majesty, that the knowledge passed down through my order is incomplete. Moorin knew more than he was able to pass on to Albanon, and his knowledge might have complemented my own. We hope to find records in Sherinna’s tower, writings or artifacts or … or anything that might help us face the threat my order was founded to combat.”

The Prince of Thorns scowled and stroked his chin. “First you blame me for shirking my duty, then you admit that your order failed in its sacred trust to preserve and transmit what Sherinna learned.”

For a moment, Albanon thought that Kri was going to erupt in wrath again, but instead the old man’s shoulders slumped. “You are correct,” he said. “I am sorry that I cast blame before admitting my own failing.”

The prince regarded Kri for a long moment, then turned his gaze to Albanon. “I cannot deny you your birthright, my son. But heed my warning-my huntmaster has reported strange creatures in the vicinity of the Whitethorn Spire. I was not speaking idly of the place being infested with monsters.” His face softened, to Albanon’s amazement. “Be careful.”

“I will, Father.” He fell to one knee again, and Kri followed suit. “Thank you.”

“I hope you find what you seek,” the Prince of Thorns said. He waved a hand to dismiss them, and Albanon and Kri stood and left the palace.

Get behind me,” Shara said, and she turned to face the demons. She and her greatsword could almost completely block the passage, so a demon that tried to get past her to Uldane would pay for it in blood.

“Do you have a plan?” the halfling asked.

“Step one,” Shara grunted as her sword bit into a demon’s shoulder. “Don’t die.”

“Sounds good so far.”

Another beast pounced, sailing over the demons closest to Shara and hurtling at her face. She brought her sword up just in time for the creature to impale itself on the blade. Shara staggered back under the sudden weight and almost tripped over Uldane, and then the demon nearly wrenched the sword from her hands as it fell lifeless onto its companions. Another one took advantage of her lowered defenses to lunge in, raking her leg with its claws before she could twist her body out of its way. She yanked her sword free and smashed the pommel into the demon’s face, driving it back.

“I don’t know what step two is,” she said. Her breath was coming harder and faster, and she finally had to acknowledge the doubt nagging at her mind, questioning whether she and Uldane could get through this alive.

“I figured as much,” Uldane said. He threw a dagger past Shara’s hip to sink into a demon’s eye. The enchanted blade wrenched itself free and sailed back to Uldane’s hand, trailing pale red blood. “How about this? We make our way down the hall until we find either Quarhaun or a strong door we can put between us and these demons.”