Viliame Audica's Story

”The mind is not a vessel to be filled, but a fire to be kindled.”

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The early morning rays shone brightly through the slotted windows etched into the castle walls, glinting mesmerizingly off of the slightly-pink tips of hair peeking out ever-so-slightly from the top of the covers that hid a mound on the single bed that sat within the room that one were to look upon. The mound stirred, followed by a small, muffled sound of annoyance, and for the briefest of moments the pink tips disappeared before reappearing again, followed by the rest of the light orange tufts attached to them. This also revealed a boyishly charming face and large, interesting eyes, mixed with hues of both green and orange, that were currently blinking blearily against the morning light that filtered so brightly into the young man’s eyes. Lifting a hand, he rubbed at his left eye and yawned slightly, adding to the boyish charm that was already held within his features, and then stretched in such a way that an onlooker would be reminded of that of a cat.

Scratching his lower back, he threw back the covers and moved his legs over the side of the bed, shivering slightly as the room temperature hit his bare skin, goosebumps and hairs rising at the sudden change from warmth to chill. As he rose, he stretched once more, lithely, letting out a soft groan as he did so, his bones cracking slightly in the process, before he sighed and relaxed, dropping his arms once more to his sides and scratching his back again. It didn’t take him long to dress, ensuring to don his ever-present broadsword in its sheath at his hip, and with a quick splash of men’s perfume and an equally swift brush of his teeth and hair, the young man retrieved his shoulder bag, slipped it over his head, and easily made his way from his room.

This routine was not an uncommon one for young Ryder Veldine; in fact, this was quite literally his daily routine. Unless his Queen requested otherwise, he was generally awake with the early sun’s rays, readied fairly quickly, saw to any business that required his attention, and was outside of her chamber doors ready to assist her as soon as she awoke as well. ‘Tis the requirement of the Queen’s Royal Advisor, he presumed. En route to the kitchens portion of the castle, he detoured slightly to make a stop by the royal accountant's offices and have a brief word with the older gentleman who handled the finances in there, simply to go over the papers that Ryder had submitted the day before. After ensuring that everything had been in order and nothing was out of place in his calculations, he accepted the finalized reports from the accountant, gave him a respectful bow, slipped the reports into his bag, and retreated from the man's office. Making one last deviation in his route, Ryder slipped into the royal library, his chin dipping ever-so-slightly in greetings to the librarian currently organizing a stack of books. They nodded absentmindedly in return, clearly more than accustomed to his presence in that room, not missing even a single beat in their movements as they did so. It was quick work for him to retrieve the book from his bag and return it to its proper place on the fifth shelf up, the third row down, only to snag a new book from the second shelf up in the same row. Scrawled neatly across the leather front of it were the words Quae astris praesentiuntur Astronomia, and with a satisfied smile, he slipped it into his bag and made his way easily from the library, his little side trips complete.

Stopping by the kitchens along the way to retrieve his breakfast, as well as the maid who was to deliver Queen’s morning meal, Ryder nodded hello to the cooks. He noted with piqued interest that there was a new face in the kitchen, and reminded himself to ask the Queen about the new staff member later. He nibbled on his bread and mutton as he walked, giving a slight tilt of the head in greeting to servants as he passed them in the large halls of the castle on his pathing to the Queen’s chambers. The maid did not attempt to chat with him, as she was well accustomed to not only his own personally quiet nature but also the kingdom as a whole’s tendency to note speak to many of the men who were in service to the Queen - something that someone as astute as he had not failed to miss. Why this was so, however, he hadn’t a clue.

As Ryder walked, he reviewed the previous day's events in his head, in case his Queen was to inquire what he had accomplished, although he had already given her his reports before retiring for the evening before.

The day had been a simple one, as the tasks that his Queen had entrusted to him had been few and easily done, and his job generally entailed advising the Queen when she requested his input on situations as she seemed to value his opinion given his educational background. However, he did frequently offer to assist her with other tasks, in an effort to lighten the load on her shoulders, and would often be seen out and about performing duties on her behalf that she either did not have the time or the inclination herself to do.

Ryder had been sent to the local orphanage to gather documents on their current orphans, for what the Queen explained was an effort to find homes for the children in need. He then was sent to collect taxes from the shops in the northern shopping district of the city, followed by delivering the monthly royal donations to each church that was currently within city limits. Following that, he was to document all funds that were transferred between the shops, his hands, the castle, and the church, and submit these all to the royal account for filing, before reporting the final profit directly to the Queen herself.

Polishing off the last bite of bread and mutton, Ryder took a swig of water from his canteen on his hip opposite his sword, cleared his throat, and paused outside of the Queen’s chambers alongside the maid as well as the two ever-present guards who stood on each side of the large, ornately designed doors. Jerking his chin up a bit in greeting to them - it was clear that he was a man of few words, and this was a common way for him to say hello - he leaned slightly to the side to listen, noting that he could hear the slightly muffled voices of the Queen and her Lady in Waiting. It was obvious that they were still readying the Queen for her day, so he straightened once more, hands clasped behind his back, and prepared to wait until she was dressed and had beckoned him inside.

It was around fifteen minutes later that he heard the voice of his Queen call his name. Smoothing back his hair in an attempt to somewhat tidy the mess that it always was, Ryder pushed open the heavy doors to her bedchambers, a small smile on his face, as large of a smile that really anyone could get out of him anymore, other than his books. He strode directly towards Ivelda, immediately dropping to one knee before her and taking her hand with his, his other arm behind his back, and gently placed his lips to her fingers.

”My beautiful Queen; as always, it is a glorious morning that I am truly blessed to be given the opportunity to awaken and arise, to immediately see your beautiful and youthful face,” he practically purred, his voice dripping like fresh honey on honeycomb. Finally turning his soft, unique gaze up to hers, that small, impish smile remained on his lips as he rose to his full height before her, only to bow forward at the hips, one arm cast out at his side and the other folded around his hips. ”I come with one of the servants, bearing your breakfast. Please, eat and be nourished, as the kingdom requires you to remain strong and healthy in order to lead and prosper.”

Straightening once more, Ryder stepped slightly to the side to allow the maid access to the Queen and the desk that she was to eat her breakfast at. As she approached, Ryder kept a watchful eye on her, his gaze wary and alert, yet his stature giving off the appearance of someone relaxed and unprepared. The girl, no older than possibly thirteen or fourteen years old, set the food down, clearly too fearful to even raise her gaze and look at the Queen, cast a dutiful yet quick curtsy in regards to the higher up, before quickly scurrying from the large chambers.

After watching her leaving and ensuring the doors shut behind her, Ryder returned his gaze to his Queen as she lifted her fork. He studied her as she began to gather a few bites of hard-boiled eggs mixed with several salad mixes as well as an odd, flowery white substance that seemed to almost stand out against the green and yellows of the rest of the dish. As she begins to lift it to her mouth, before it could even touch her lips, Ryder’s hands both flew out, smacking both the fork and plate out of her hands and causing them to fly across the room, clattering loudly across the floor and sending eggs and greens everywhere, as well as glass from the plate as it shattered into a million pieces.

Before she could grow angry with him, he rounded towards the Lady In Waiting, who stood in shock, frozen in her spot. The doors to the chambers flew open as the two guards that previously stood outside rushed in, swords drawn and readied. When they took note of no immediate threat, they lowered their weapons slightly yet kept them readied, their eyes darting throughout the room to search for any and all possible threats.

”I want you to gather all of the kitchen staff, now!!" he snapped at the girl, who was no other than eighteen. Spinning on his heel and approaching the guard on the right, he threw out his hand, finger extended. "You! Ring the bells to lock the castle's outer walls. I want this entire castle on complete lockdown immediately! There has been an attempted assassination on the Queen, and we will not allow the would-be assassin to escape! Then send two of the servants to fetch the healer Asher and Sir Adrian!" Striding to the other guard, he thrust his hand at this one in turn as well. "As for you, I want you to send a servant to find Sir Thaddeus with strict instructions to gather the royal guard, and one for Benedicto, as well as one to fetch the royal artist brought immediately!” With his eyes darting between both of them, he barked out one more instruction, giving no room for arguments or questions, "I want all of these people in the throne room in under fifteen minutes. Now go!". The men gave curt nods and both of them, along with the Lady in Waiting, took off at near-sprints out the chamber doors, and almost immediately a loud tolling could be heard, the bells echoing throughout the entire castle. In turn, more bells began to resound throughout the kingdom, as the servants hired to work at each belltower were instructed to repeat the bell toll in rhythm with whatever alarm was issued so as to alert the entirety of the kingdom. This specific pattern alerted the kingdom of an attempted assassination on the Queen, and would alert the guard working the castle security to go into full lockdown.

Turning back to face his Queen, he dropped to his knee before her, his head hung in shame. ”My Queen, I know you did not have enough time to ingest anything, but please assure me that you are well. Please, I beg of your forgiveness. I did notice an unfamiliar face within the kitchen this morning but was going to ask you of it once we had more ample opportunity for conversation. This was a clear oversight on my part, and it nearly cost you your life, for in your breakfast I saw one of the deadliest of herbs known to be in existence - water hemlock,” he practically choked out, his voice dripping with sorrow and guilt. Tears pricked his eyes and his shoulders slumped forward, his jaw clenching with regret. ”Please, punish me as you see fit, my Queen, so we can then punish the one who dares attempt to hurt you! I know their features - I know their face! I beg of you, please punish me, my Queen!”

6565D1

”Preacher Carama, breakfast is ready.” said an invisible voice on the other side of the door. The young mans eyes opened and immediately closed wincing in pain. He didn’t know how he had eventually fallen asleep. As soon as he had removed himself from the Throne Room he had gone back to the church. He was ashamed of his brothers, but most of all of himself. It had been a long time since he had felt the Great Ivelda’s wrath aimed at him, and he had not missed it. He couldn’t believe how he had lost his patience in front of her. She had been right, and he was not worthy of being in her presence after that.

He had left her Throne Room feeling uncomfortable, not speaking to the others. He didn’t know it was possible, but Eike had looked at him with smugness in his eyes. The child had been right, Benedicto had screwed up, badly. Back at the church he had prayed in solace for hours. He had asked for forgiveness even though he did not deserve it. He was unsure what he could do in order to get into Ivelda’s good grace again. Back in his room, after his prayer session, he had felt undeserving of sleep. Why should he enjoy these luxuries when his Goddess was disgusted by him. He had settled on a compromise and had removed the straw from the wooden undercarriage, causing him to sleep on top of the wood only.

It was for this reason his back was in spasms at the moment. He tried to stretch to make the pain less, but reconsidered. He deserved the pain, he deserved to suffer as he had made Ivelda suffer with his actions. It was not just justified he had to be in pain, it was necessary. He washed his face in the bowl of water before he left his room, dressed in his modest Preacher robes. The only difference between his clothes now and the monks robes was the color. His garment was pitch black, as he always preferred. This was the garment he usually wore while stationed in the capital.

He sat down for breakfast with the others. He ate with all of them, as they were all servants of the Great Ivelda. He led the prayer before they started with their simple meal. He would wait until after dinner to announce his plan of a 40-day fasting in honour of their Goddess. It was not an uncommon occurrence, happening about once or twice a year. He always felt it was a good test of the loyalty of the church members. The fasting was meant for the preachers and monks and any others employed by the church.

Before breakfast was over, a messenger came to Benedicto’s side. ”Honorable Preacher Carama, I have a letter for you from Master Rock.” With a steady hand the messenger handed over a letter. The wax still felt slightly warm to the touch, but no doubt came from the Guard Commander. It was his seal that had closed the letter. He thanked the messenger for his prompt delivery and opened the letter immediately. If it came from Thaddeus it had to be urgent.

Benedicto read the letter with much attention. The monks around him only heard the sounds of loud uttered ”hmhmm” and ”yes!” and ”exactly!”
The words on the letter were controlled, but Benedicto could still feel the frustration behind them. The same frustration he had been feeling after being send out. ”Fellow believers, please excuse me from breakfast. I must write back to Master Rock without delay.”
He shoved the wooden bench back violently as he got up from the table. He clenched the letter in his hand as he hastened back to his chambers. Whence inside he was happy to see someone already prepared his writing materials. He sat down behind his desk and started to write a letter back.

Dear Commander Rock,

I was relieved to receive your letter concerning this. I cannot properly rest or do my duties while thinking about yesterdays upset. Indeed it can be expected for the others to act the way they do, but we should be able to control our responses at all times. We are once again privileged with the grace of our Goddess Ivelda.

It will be a test of the mind to see this through. Our alignment with the others has been off since 10 minutes after we were all in a room together. However, it is more imminent than ever that our priorities are all set on Ivelda’s needs instead of our personal needs.

I avail any time any place for this meeting to happen. Moreover, we can indeed discuss this today. I hope brother Adrian will be able to offer his guidance as well. He is a sharp man with a good eye for compromise. Until we meet I will pray on a successful outcome. Please note I will be available in our church, unless otherwise needed by our Grace.

With patience and sincerity I await,
P. Benedicto Carama

As he finished the reply he called in one of the monks close by to take the message back to Thaddeus. His own personal wax seal was still cooling down as the monk went on his way already. Next he left his chambers to conduct meetings and continue the comings and goings of the church. He often received requests for advise from people throughout the lands, and he spend a considerable amount of time responding to them. He had to keep ears and eyes open over the entire continent.

There was a loud knocking on his door, but before he could tell the person to enter the door already flew open. For the time that day a messenger appeared. ”Well, I have never seen such rude….”
The man interrupted before he could continue his sentence. ”There’s been an assassination attempt on the Queen, your grace, she requests your immediate presence in the Throne Room.”
Benedicto got up immediately, walking with the messenger towards the entrance of the church. He heard the bell from the Castle in the background. ”Hey, brother!” he shouted at one of the priests he passed. ”Sound our bells as well, amplify this misdeed and put fear in the hearts of all that sink to this type of travesty!”

When they came outside, only the messengers horse was waiting. ”You may find another one close by, but I can not delay!” Without another word, Benedicto got on the horse confidently and rode at speed to the Castle. The Castle gates opened on his appearance, and closed immediately after his horse passed through. He got off close to the entrance door, and walked bristly towards the Throne Room, arriving visibly sweating and out of breath. Walking in he threw himself at her feet. ”Oh great Ivelda, what injustice has stricken you this day. Are you well? Are you okay?”

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18D10A

It was halfway the morning before Raiden was able to lift both eye lids. Last days gathering in the Throne room had been uncomfortable at best, and they did not take dinner together. The bird he had asked for had been brought to his room, and its skeleton was now waiting to be picked up from the table in Raiden’s room. He still had a hard time believing that his brothers showed up in that state. It’s a level of stupidity he not much cared for. This is what you get when you’re around people.

His mind wandered to life outside the capital. He had been here for no more than a day, but he was longing for leaving already. Cold mountains, hot deserts, dark forests or rainy swamps, it all was better than this. However, unless Ivelda send hi on his way there was little he could do. He had a hard time deciding if this was home or prison. He was happy to see Ivelda, of course, but he would be happier to receive an assignment from her. He was like an arrow himself. Worth little in you hand, but highly effective when aimed at something.

He lifted his legs out the bed and spotted his clothes, neatly folded on a chair. The old man running his bath must have folded them after he fell asleep. After getting dressed Raiden made his way to the archery range, which was located near the city guards barracks. Nobody seemed to be practising when he walked onto the range. He did see a few of the guards sitting around a table, all with drinks in front of them that were strictly not allowed while on duty.
”A little early in the morning for disobedience, don’t you think?” he spoke loud enough for all of them to easily hear him.
Three of them had their backs to him. The biggest of them stood up slowly, and spoke back before turning around.
”Seems to me it’s early enough for you to fuck off, range is taken squirt.” The man finally turned around and slowly but surely Raiden could see the recognition settling in on the mans face.

The other men had laughed at the comment before, but they too seemed to realise there were not that many pink haired archers in the capital. The big guy seemed to be lost for words a bit as another one of them tried to paddle back in their rudeness. ”Master Raiden, our apologies…, we didn’t expect…we didn’t know you would be joining us today.”
”So, you need to know of my arrival before you fill yourself up with alcohol on a range where you practice precision. I doubt Commander Rock would be appreciative of this.”

”Master Raiden, we only drank a little. We promise it did not affect our accuracy. We…we still can perform in the same manner.” Raiden could see on their faces, they were scared their commander was about to find out.
”You’re sure of that, huh?” he asked them with a smirk on his face. ”Let’s put it to the test. Let’s have a match. One arrow per person, if my arrow is closest to the target, I’ll tell dear Thaddeus on you. One of your arrows is closer to the target, you will just promise not to do it again and I’ll be on my merry way. Agreed?”
The men looked at each other and nodded as one.

One by one they grabbed their bows and arrows and lined up at the shooting line. All of them visibly nervous. They did not have much choice in the matter. The option was a mere illusion thrown up by Raiden as they all knew he was a better shooter than anyone in the guard. But he did not have his fun yet. ”Hold on, gents. I don’t believe I have clarified what the target is yet.” He picked up one of their drinking mugs, and told the big guy to come with him. They walked towards the target line, about 30 meters away. ”You were rather rude to me earlier, were you not?”
The guy was shaking in his boots. ”I was not aware it was you, Sir, I…I do apologise, it will never happen again.”
They reached the line. ”We will see about that. Now stand up straight against the target. Put this mug on top of your head and be very very quiet.”
The man did as asked. As Raiden walked back to the shooting line he heard the big man whimpering. ”Like I said, stand very quiet. It really is your best chance.” he shouted over his shoulder.

”Okay, I think you get the picture. In case you need clarification, the mug is your target. That shouldn’t be a problem for a member of the guard, now should it. I mean…it’s only 30 meters and you’re all trained archers. Finest in the land….”
The first man put the arrow on his bow and took aim. His hand shaking and his eyes blinking ferociously to get a better look at the target.
”Any second now, please.” Raiden complained impatiently.
The arrow released and flew through the air. The arrow widely missed the target and flew over the target easily.
”Wow…, unimpressive….NEXT!”

The second man lined up. Much the same as the man before him, he aimed widely off the target and released his arrow. Clearly not wanting to put an arrow in his friend by accident.
”Disgraceful. Next man missing the board completely, gets to shoot again and again until he hits it. You put yourself in this position, now be man enough to get yourself out of it. A bad archer is one thing, a coward is completely different.”
The third and youngest of all lined up and pulled the string back. He was small in size and most likely was the furthest gone of all of them. He took a deep breath and on his next breath out, he released the arrow. Not a second later a loud thud showed he had hit the target board at least. It was too far of to the right to even be near the mug, but it was a decent shot.
”Not bad, we seem to be getting there. Last one, before I give it a try.”

The last man readied the arrow. He seemed confident, but Raiden could see the tip of the arrow moving around as the man tried to aim. The moment it came off the bow, Raiden knew it had been a bad shot. The cry of the big guy with the mug on his head proved it. The arrow was firmly lodged in his shoulder, went through the body and pinned the man to the target.
”Phew, remind me never to go out hunting with you. Let’s hope it didn’t hurt him too bad.” he laughed as the big guy still yammered on complaining.

”Fine, let me show you how it’s done, before I report to Commander Rock.”
He put the arrow on and pulled back the string. ”See gents, they say it’s the practice, the strength of your arm, and a keen eye. I won’t disagree practice helps, but what’s even better is not drinking alcohol before shooting.”
He let go of the string and the arrow flew straight for the target. It skewered the mug to the board, barely spilling a drop inside.

He looked at them smugly. Before speaking again the bell started ringing in the background. Raiden listened to the pattern in the same way the archers did. They all recognised it at the same time. ”An assassination attempt…. It can’t be…”
He turned his attention back to the archers. He pointed out the first three, making sure the young man was included. ”You three, report to the Southgate, it’s the closest one from here. And you..” grabbing the shoulder of the last one. ”You take your arrow out of your friend and guard the armory. There is too much ammo here to let it go unguarded.”

Before waiting if they all understood the instructions, he ran off the range. He know the castle would be going into lockdown, so it made little sense to make his way over. He was concerned, of course, but the alarm was of an assassination attempt, not an assassination. I better concentrate on getting the piece of shit that tried to kill our Queen.

After the Castle, the church was the building with the highest vantage point in the city. There was a small group of horses in the stall of the barracks. He jumped on the first one he could see and sped off to the church. It took him less than 5 minutes to arrive. The streets were in chaos along the way. People ran home and the guard was chasing people left, right and center.
As he arrived he could see the tall stature of the priest, heading in the direction of the Castle. No worries, I don’t need his permission to climb his church.
Without anyone trying to stop him, he ran up the stairs to the bell tower, the highest point. The bells were getting louder, literally giving him a headache along the way. He climbed up the small roof topping the building, finally in the spot he had been looking for. His eagle eye scanned the streets as he noticed most people fleeing indoors. He saw all the gates closed and patrols lining the city walls. ”Come out, come out wherever you are.”

”The beginning of knowledge is the discovery of something that we do not understand.”
Code ~ #088A29

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The forgiveness of his Queen brought instant relief to Ryder’s features. He looked up at her with adoration in his eyes, as it was evident that he held nothing but complete devotion for the woman before him. Bowing his head once more, he rose lithely to his feet before bowing forward, one arm tucked neatly behind his back and the other presenting his gloved hand to assist her.

”Please, allow me to assist you personally to your throne, My Queen,” he requested. When she took his hand, he felt his heart flutter, and after offering her his elbow and placing his free hand over hers in the crook of his arm, they left her chambers, six of the royal guard awaiting them outside due to the happenings of the morning. The escort followed them all the way to the throne room, two in front and two in back holding their weapons at the ready, and one on either side of their charges holding the hilts of their swords in preparation should they need to draw them.

Ryder strode the entire length of the great hall with his Queen, ever the studious Advisor, and when they reached her impressive throne, he released her hand and assisted her to her seat before bowing in respect and taking his spot at her right-hand side. His right hand rested on the hilt of his sword, prepared should he need to draw it, and his gaze continuously surveyed the room, taking in each individual in turn so as to ensure the safety of the area was to his standards.

The men that he had ordered the guards and Lady to summon arrived quickly and in droves, including a few that he had not beckoned and would have been more than happy to have missed out on seeing - in particular, the slimy, over-devoted Benedicto. When his gaze settled on that man, the remnants of what could almost be called a scowl crossed his lips, but he made quick work of erasing the look from his features and returning them to the placid and emotionless state that they generally resided in. The pleasure that his Queen took in the man’s presence was the only reason why Ryder even tolerated the slug.

Sir Thaddeus and Sir Asher entered concurrently shortly thereafter Benedicto, cutting their timing a bit close to his fifteen-minute requirement - but they were on time, so he would not say anything. A darted glance at the waterclock nearest to the throne told him the time, and It was then that the royal painter arrived, a mousey looking man with a hunched back but hands that produced beauty that the gods themselves would envy. Giving the man a dark look, Ryder left his spot on Ivelda’s side, striding forward to the painter who came to a stumbling stop at the foot of the steps that led up to the throne.

”Painter! I recall my order being to arrive in no less than fifteen minutes, and yet you are the second to last to arrive at eighteen minutes! Do tell - do you care not should your Queen be killed in cold blood?” he demanded, his voice a near-growl as one of the few things to truly irk him were those with little respect to ones in a position of authority.

The man trembled, nearly dropping the supplies that he held as he juggled to keep everything upright. ”No, my Lord Veldine! I merely took some time to gather some supplies as my daughter is quite ill, and my wife no longer be with us,” he stammered out, his face red and expression terrified. His words seemed to pacify Ryder, whose expression gentled somewhat, and after a moment of scrutiny, with a jerk of his head to an empty spot a few feet away, the painter hurriedly made way to said spot, setting his easel and stand there. It did not take long for him to set up, and while he did, Ryder made certain that there were two guards standing close to his Queen in his stead so that he would be able to describe the features of the man that he saw in detail.

The painting did not take long, and the outcome was a young man, no older than twenty, with brown hair and light skin, a small splay of freckles scattered across his nose and cheeks. The most identifying characteristic, however, was the dark beauty mark that rest directly below the corner of the right side of his mouth. Nodding and giving a small sound of satisfaction, Ryder slipped a hand into the satchel that till hung at his left side, quickly withdrawing a pouch that jangled softly in his palm. Tossing it to the painter, the older man juggled it for a moment before steadying it in his grasp. A quick glance inside showed more than enough gold for his troubles, and his wrinkled eyes snapped up to meet Ryder’s, a sheen of what could almost be called tears gathering in his gaze. It was clear that although he said nothing of the payment, Ryder had overpaid the man greatly so that he could afford medicine and treatment for his daughter. The man bowed quickly, several times, his voice coming out raspy with emotion as he stammered thanks to Ryder numerous times and blessed him under Ivelda. With a shake of his head and a wave of his hand, Ryder shooed the painter away, clasping and lifting the painting that he left behind.

His long legs brought him quickly back to Ivelda’s side, where he showed her the painting and pointed out the prominent and recognizable features - the beauty mark, the freckles, and the scar that went through the young man’s left eyebrow. Once she had received a good look of the man, he turned the painting and was about to lift it above his head to show the inhabitants of the room the one that they were to seek, when the final arrival - Sir Adrian - made his entry. If it were not for the fact that the man lived so far, paired with his skills and inherent abilities, Ryder would have torn into him for his tardiness immediately - but he digressed and let it slide, as there were more important matters and the man had clearly pushed himself quickly to arrive. After a brief greeting between his Queen and Sir Adrian, she addressed her orders, receiving a curt nod and a small half-bow with a murmured, “Yes, My Lady,” in instant return.

Straightening, Ryder cleared his throat and strode to forward a few steps before raising the painting above his head, turning in a slow motion so as to give each and every inhabitant of the room a good view of the man in it. ”This man in this painting is our primary suspect for the attempted assassination of our beautiful and benevolent Queen. I am tasking each and every one of you, aside from those that our Queen has chosen to entrust with other duties pertaining to this matter, with seeking out and finding this man, if it is the last thing that you do. Failure to do so will result in severe consequences to every person that has, in turn, failed her Magnificence.” His voice echoed in the hall, making it clear that Ryder was no stranger to making announcements and speaking on the Queen’s behalf as he addressed the group. Stepping back and returning to his place directly at Ivelda’s right-hand side, he placed the painting on the floor before his feet, propping it against his knees so it remained up, his one hand returning once more to the hilt of his sword.

”On Queen Ivelda’s glory, I send those of you with duties off.” With a slight tilt of his head, Ryder pivoted his peculiar gaze to a nearby trio of guards who were awaiting instructions. “My order is that one of you fetch the entirety of those that work within the stables, that are not currently searching the grounds. Bring the remaining guard with you to watch the stables while they are being interrogated. The other, I want to fetch the medical staff, and make certain to leave a note on the wings’ entrance directing all those seeking medical attention to head to the throne room and speak to the guard outside. They are to be interrogated once we are finished with the stable hands,” he instructed. Glancing at the last man in the group, Ryder motioned to the painting at his feet and then to the man. "I want you to gather as many artists as possible. I want as many copies of this painting made in as short of a time as possible, and I want them distributed throughout the kingdom as Wanted posters." His voice was firm, holding no room for argument. The men nodded, gave a sharp salute as per their training, before leaving the great hall to see out the tasks entrusted to him.

His gaze darkening as he turned, Ryder fixated it on the kitchen staff, which had been escorted in a few minutes prior as per Ivelda’s orders. They stood surrounded on each side by guards, and many of them trembled in fear of what they knew was to undoubtedly come were they to in any way be deemed suspicious. A quick glance over of the group, however, caused Ryder’s expression to grow even darker, and he took a few steps back to Ivelda’s side, leaning slightly over to murmur in her ear.

”The man that I saw in the kitchens is not amongst the staff gathered here, My Queen. It is my belief that he may have given us the slip and perhaps is attempting to find a way either out of the castle or the kingdom as a whole. I would suggest sending any available men who are not already doing so, to comb the castle interiors and grounds, as well as not only the kingdom’s streets, but perhaps begin searching within people’s homes. It is entirely possible that this young man is not working alone, and has allies within the city walls that will harbor him until it is safe enough to smuggle him out,” he explained, straightening once more. A few quick strides later, and Ryder had lithely crossed the throne room, his intense expression situated on the kitchen staff and guards surrounding them. ”Let us begin then, shall we?” he asked, his voice soft and holding a somewhat shuddering undertone to it.

With that, he pivoted on his heel and strode to one side of the throne room where an unoccupied office sat. He came to a rather abrupt stop directly beside the door, causing the group following behind to almost slam into his back. Luckily, they were able to stop just in time, the guard’s armor clanging as they fumbled to regain their footing. Turning sharply where he stood, Ryder’s eyes immediately locked on the head chef’s gaze and narrowed. ”I believe I will start with you,” he beckoned coldly, not even a hint of a smile on his face. With a swing of the door, he motioned with his arm for the older man to enter, who did so in such a way that Ryder would have laughed if he found this situation at all amusing. One would think the man was marching into a room that he would die in, the way that he almost seemed to crawl-walk into the room. Following the man inside, the door slammed shut behind the two with a loud, ominous thud.

”The two most powerful warriors are patience and time. Leo Tolstoy.”
Code ~ #088A29

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The interviews with those belonging to the kitchen staff were extensive yet went fairly well, at least in Ryder’s opinion. Ivelda sat in and observed, occasionally interjecting with her own queries or comments if it suited her, but for the most part giving him free rein of the interrogations. The Head Chef was the second most nervous, as he was the one who actually hired all of the kitchen staff, so if anyone were to be held directly accountable other than the would-be assassin himself, it would be the Head Chef. He didn’t have much information to give, even when Ryder resorted to not-so-idle threats. The man walked away with one fingernail barely attached as he was quite quick to crumble and divulge what little information he had - which wasn’t much, unfortunately. This led to him not so much walking away as he was more so led to the dungeons for further questioning.

They were roughly over halfway through the kitchen staff when things took a turn, and one of the young men was oddly nervous and uncertain in his answers. When everyone exploded into movement, Ryder had barely enough time to remove his sword before Adrian had already struck him down. The young man’s final words, however, lingered in Ryder’s mind, and he felt his gaze wander over towards his Queen, who was visibly shaken, undoubtedly from the second attempt on her life. Noting the information and reminding himself to ask her later about it, as he did not want to burden her at that moment when she had already been through so much in such little time. Adrian made quick work of leaving with the body, and Ryder himself left the room to call for two servants to clean the bloodied mess that had become the office’s floor.

Due to the scene, the rest of the interrogations were moved to the courtyard. At this point, he had finished his interviews; the man that was deemed suspect had been taken out, and the rest of the kitchen staff cleared by himself as well as the Queen. The rest of them would be carried out by various appointed officials by the Queen, ranging from the Head of Medicine to the Master of Beasts. Instead, Ryder would be at the Queen’s side for a majority of the remainder of the interviews, as was his duty as her advisor, occasionally wandering to check in on the interrogations and see how they were coming along. His eyes moved quickly and constantly, always taking something in, never stopping and always studying as they walked and stood, talked or remained silent in observation.

It wasn’t until the interrogations had completely finished several hours later that Ryder relaxed even slightly, and that was only enough so as to speak to his Queen in a lovely manner. Despite his growling stomach - they had worked through lunch so as to ensure the safety of the palace and their Queen - he was still there to serve her and only her. Besides, if it were not for Ivelda, he would not even be alive right now to feel hunger, so a few hunger pains were tolerable enough in the long run of things. Placing one hand over his heart and the other arm folded behind his back, he bowed forward slightly at the waist before her. ”My Queen, now that the interrogations have concluded and we sent all those deemed to be suspicious to the dungeons for further questioning, what is your command?” he asked, awaiting her response.

6565D1

When Ivelda acknowledged Ryder’s role in discovering the poison, Benedicto gritted his teeth. He had no love for the Queen’s advisor. The two of them were often at odds on how to deal with certain issues, and by all means Ryder was far too liberal and friendly with the citizens. He had never brought this up with the Queen, but he did think she was aware of the animosity between the advisor and himself.
”Indeed we have to express our sincere gratitude to Ryder for prevailing any harm that would have befallen you.” Benedicto stated without actually expressing his thanks.

The preacher rose to his feet again and stepped to the side when others were also arriving in the Throne Room. Remembering his lashing from his Goddess of the day before, he kept quiet, seeing the painting of the suspect in front of his eyes. The image burned into his soul and he could feel the anger in him rising. This person has dared to try and kill our Queen, this person needs the most severe of punishments.

Benedicto stood back to wait for instructions and looked on as the kitchen crew appeared in the Throne Room. He towered above them all and tried to read their faces. All of them looked nervous, but that was expected. He smelled a mixed stench of sweat and onions coming from all of them. With a note of disgust, Benedicto held his arm close to his nose. Appearing to be in thought, but in reality shielding himself from the smell.

He saw all of the men and women swear their loyalty to the Goddess. Out of nowhere a distracted Benedicto saw a man pull out a knife and launching for Ivelda. Adrian reacted the fastest and before the preacher could even react, the man stumbled to the floor. An audible gasp was interrupted by the man’s last words. "Curse you . . . . Ivelda . . . . Lilith and . . . the true rulers will . . . defeat you. . . . long live Prince Richard . . . .”

While Adrian wrapped the body in order to be disposed, Benedicto wandered if it was not better to display the corpse. A deterrent for anyone wanting to commit the same heinous acts. The bells of the castle sounded again in the same rhythm they had rang less than an hour before. By the time the sounds would reach the corners of the Kingdom, people would have a lot of questions. In his mind the preacher was already thinking of a phrasing in order to inform all citizens of what had happened.

Lilith….why does it sound so familiar? The name disturbed him. He could swear he had read it before, but could not for the life of him remember where and in what context. He followed the rest to the courtyard with his head in the clouds. He kept whispering the name Lilith to himself, hoping to spark some kind of memory, but nothing came to mind.

Hastily, some tables and chairs were assembled in the courtyard, set up so the interrogators could do their work. Rubbing his hands as if excited, Benedicto took place behind one of the desks. He pulled one chair back and put it to the side. He rather stand while doing the interrogation. Normally he would prefer to do this in a closed room, but with the 2 murder attempts so far, he was happy some other people were around.

The Beastmaster's people were told to line up in front of his area. He started with the simple help, making people more nervous and nervous as time went on. With the victims seated, he would stalk around them like a lion around its pray. They might be used to working with horses, but they hadn't seen a real predator at work. He saw how the others used violence here and there, but this was not his style. He used words, threats and unlikely questions to shake up the people he interrogated. The people waiting in line were able to pick up words here and there, but it was difficult for them to hear it all.

He asked only non-sensical questions to the third person. He could see tears in the young girls eyes when she had no idea how to answer him appropriately without getting into trouble. He stood behind her and put his hands on the backrest of the chair. His long fingers were rhythmically tapping the wood, just behind her ears. He asked her about her morning, the people she saw and the food she ate. Then he started to talk about her family, about the people at home that depended on her. She answered how she had a difficult time providing food for all the people at home.
”So, it would be better if there were not so many mouths to feed?” he asked calmly.
”I.. it would be easier…but…it would be easier if we would earn more money. My father lost a foot when he was in the royal guard, so he can’t help as much around the house.”
”So, you say it would be easier if he was no longer there…., interesting…”
After torturing the girl for a bit longer he asked her to swear her loyalty before he let her go. With tears running down her face she ran back into the castle.

He looked over to the next person, a young man this time. Looking at him with a friendly smile on his face he pulled the chair back, inviting him to sit down. After a stressful morning he started to feel more like his normal self again.

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18D10A

His eyes darted back and forth over the streets. He could see little movement as the streets cleared out even further. The sound of slamming doors could be heard even as high up as Raiden was. His bow was relaxed in his hands, not pulling the string until he had something to shoot at.

From the right he heard a small sound over the wind. ”….HEH! Cozy up there?”
Raiden couldn’t exactly figure out what his ‘porker from another mother’ was trying to say. Knowing him, it wouldn’t be a friendly word. Looking over his shoulder he saw the Outrider riding his new drake. Raiden felt sorry for it, it couldn’t be easy to carry that amount of weight around on your back. He aimed his bow at the boar and pulled the string. So easy…it would be so easy…

He could hardly imagine the ways Ivelda would torture him if he would actually release the arrow. After the bells had stopped it took a few minutes before the bells of the castle started to ring again. Wait…what does that mean? Are they going to repeat this shit the entire day?
As an answer to the bells of the castle, the bells right below his feet started ringing again as well, probably just as confused as he was. It drowned out and other sound that would be coming from Korgan or the streets.

Raiden relaxed his bow and kept looking below to see any suspicious activities. It was hard, if only they could check inside the houses instead of just the streets.

18D10A

The bells of the church stopped as sudden as they had started. It was only now that he could hear the screaming from below the roof he was standing on. He looked down and saw one monk tried to climb on the same roof with immense difficulty. Sweating and hanging on for dear life the midlife monk tried to catch his attention.
”Master Hetral! Please, our Goddess advisor is requesting your immediate presence. A messenger is downstairs from the palace.”

Raiden but his bow back on his back. With more grace than any of the monks could have ever brought to the table, he swung himself off the ledge onto the floor below. Running down the stairs he saw a nervous wreck of a messengers eyes lit up when Raiden finally came in sight. ”Sir, you will be late! Advisor Veldine has requested you interrogate the gardening staff of the castle.”

”I think you’re forgetting your place, if you are telling me I will be late. You make one more comment like that and I’ll stab your eyes out, so you’ll never realise what time it is again.”
The messenger looked taken aback, profusely apologising and asking for his life to be spared. ”Yeah, yeah, calm down…. Pathetic… How does that windbag think I’ll be more useful interrogating gardeners than scanning the streets?”

The messenger replied hastily. ”It was on our Queens request, my liege.”
”In that case… excellent plan, I will do as she commands. ” He left the church and took the first horse he could see at the church entrance. ”Keep on praying monks, I am sure Benny wouldn’t be happy to just see you standing around.”

In top speed he left for the castle where he arrived only 5 minutes later. He got a quick rundown of what happened before he was shown the small line of gardeners he was supposed to interview. ”Oh you’ve got to be kidding me…. I can smell the manure on them from a mile away. Come on guys, isn’t this more suited for Korgans sense of smell?” he asked no one in particular. He indicated for the first guy to come forward and sit down on the chair that was placed there.

Raiden walked forward to come closer to the gardener, an old man in his fifties was staring at him with beady eyes. He crossed his arms and brought up one hand to save him from the smell. ”Good sir… if you do not tell me the truth…. We will make you take a bath. Considering your odour that must be your very worst nightmare…. So… DONT LIE!”
The man stumbled on his words. ”I’d never lie m’Lord, not to another server of our Goddess Ivelda.”
”Yeah, yeah, calm your shit… or the hands you have covered in them.”
He asked a few more questions, but the guy was as old as he was faithful… and boring.
”Fine, get back to your gardening old man. One more question…. Which of your colleagues do you find to be the least trustworthy.”
”I…I wouldn’t know, m’Lord. I..just… Jeremiah has been working here the shortest. He only started 4 years ago…

Raiden let the old man go, and asked for Jeremiah next. The man who came forward was certainly a lot younger than the man before him, but still a fair amount older than any of the Queens advisors. ”So…Jeremiah…it’s nice to meet you…but awful to smell you.” He paused as he turned around to gulp a fresh breath of air. ”How long have you been working on the castle grounds?”
The man answered to all his questions calmly.

”If I have need for water hemlock, where would I find it?” he looked the man deep in the eyes, but the man tried to look away.
”We have water hemlock in the Queens garden, m’Lord.
”Isn’t that something… the Queen was almost poisoned with water hemlock and you know exactly where to find it.”
The other gardeners would probably know the same thing.
”Where exactly can I find the water hemlock in the garden?”
”It’s in the aisle third from the back, it’s in between the Knights Milfoil and the Joy of the Mountain. But that’s not in my section, it’s taken care of by Lead Gardener Septimus.
”The first guy I spoke to? Fine…. But you know how to use water hemlock, don’t you?”
The man did not answer immediately. ”You know what….wait here.”

Raiden called back the man he interviewed first. Oh my Goddess, is he smelling worse than before?
”Septimus, you are in charge of the water hemlock on the castle grounds? Take me to your stock now.”
The two of them walked to the gardens. Hearing from the breaths of the older man it was at a far faster pace than he was used to. When they reached the place, the man was so exhausted he merely pointed at the herb they were looking for.

The young hunter kneeled down and inspected the ground around the herb. He could not see any disruption to the ground, nor could he see and of the leaves were cut. So they did not take the plant root and all and they did not cut off the leaves. He stood back up and asked the older man. ”Septimus, is any of your hemlock missing, or is the full stock here?”
It was now the man who sat down on his knees inspecting the area in much the same way Raiden had.
”Nothing is missing, m’Lord, not a single seedling.”
”Thanks, then I know enough.”

He walked back at again a fast pace, Septimus not following as closely as before. He finished his interrogations with the last 2 men, and 1 woman. They all seemed to have a dislike for Jeremiah, but they all seemed loyal to the Queen.
”Guards! Take Jeremiah to the Dungeon for further questioning. The others, you are allowed to go. The Great Ivelda thanks you for your hard and dedicated labor.”
Raiden stifled a laugh. Jeremiah might know more, but there was little indication for it. However, if something could make the smell of the Dungeons worse, it was possibly this guy, and that was reason enough for the hunter.

He walked to the Queen and bend the knee before speaking. ”My immortal Queen, there might be one suspicious gardener. He has been sent to the Dungeon for further follow up. I was able to confirm that the water hemlock used, was not from the castle gardens. I don’t know where they got it, but it wasn’t here.”

6565D1

The preacher stood up from his desk, stretching his body after sitting down for so long. He raised his arms, and tall as he was he actually touched the ceiling during his stretch. He walked to the corner of his room, where a washing bowl still stood there from the morning. The water was cold by now, but it still felt good to wash his face, and let the water run on his wrists.
His wrists were hurting. He had been writing letters all day. The Great Goddess Ivelda had given her route for the annual trip through the lands. Benedicto was writing to all priests that were on the way in order to make sure Ivelda would receive the proper welcome she deserved. He hated that he was not allowed to travel with her. His monks would keep her safe and he would be able to act as her herald. It just didn’t sit well with him that she would travel so soon after there was an attack on her life.
They had searched for further clues, but had not really come up with clear results. The most frustrating thing was that there could still be people out there, planning another attack. He had to admit that looking for further perpetrators was not really his forte. Some of the other faithful servants were far better equipped to handle this.

The bells rang to announce the midday hour had arrived. Time for him to go and get lunch and prepare for his sermon. He had announced a month of daily church services over the entire continent. After the horrendous acts of two weeks ago, they could use some more prayer. People had to acknowledge the gratitude they should show to the Great Goddess. His throat had gone hoarse ever since they started, but it was necessary for him to lead the church in this.

Thankfully they received the full assistance of the guards in order to make sure all townsfolk would make it to most of the services. The church itself only fitted so many people, so there were podiums around the city, where other high placed church members were giving the same speech Benedicto was. He had decided to concentrate on the oldest texts, but all re-written when the continent realised it was Ivelda who was the driving force in the creation and existence of Rhindeval.

It made him feel invigorated and so proud to be one of her most loyal. If only the simpletons realised her power and her absolute dedication to the improvement of the continent, they would worship 10 times more than they did now.
Aside from the extra prayer, the church was also receiving extra coin with the daily prayer sessions. The monks in his service always found the right motivation for people to be more generous.

He opened his door and bend down a bit to walk through it without bumping his head. He saw a servant right in front, waiting for orders. ”The last 20 letters are on my desk. These are for the furthest parts of the tour, please make sure to take them to the aviary immediately.”
A hasty positive reply from the servant set Benedicto on his way to have his lunch. ”And make sure my washing bowl is heated when I come back after my sermon, plus drinking water.”

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18D10A

Raiden kicked a pebble across the street. He was bored out of his mind. He hadn’t been in the capital for this long in quite some time. Usually he reported on his assignment, and would leave on his next assignment before the sun set over Lostein. He missed the forests, the mountains, the fresh air and the animals. He missed the silence, he missed not hearing that damned church bell every single hour.

He had asked for an assignment two more times, but Ivelda had commanded him to stay put for now. The most he had been able to do was hunting for some boar in the surrounding forests, in order to bring them to the kitchens. He was going stir crazy, and the frequent contact with the other servants of Queen Ivelda did not make the communication with them any easier.

He had been commanding a small group of guards while they were searching the houses during the daily prayer sessions. They were still looking for more clues, or signs of a riot, but they had found nothing more substantial in the city.

For all he cared he could be send on a wild goose chase. As long as the goose was far away from here. Walking aimlessly he arrived at the harbour where he could see Korgan’s boats. He walked into one of the bars and sat down in one of the booths, by himself. He ordered an ale and made sure he kept his hood over his bright pink hair.
He did not feel like being recognised at the moment. He rather did the seeing, instead of being seen by others.

6565D1

Benedicto had finished his sermon late today. It was his time to shine, and he could never pass that up. He had stayed longer to personally greet the somewhat higher members of society. Although there was no one reaching any of the riches Ivelda or even Benedicto himself could produce, some landowners were richer than others. They had learned which heels to lick, and as long as these heels belonged to Benedicto, he wanted to make sure to acknowledge them.

He had collected the money for the church from them. Some of them asked for a personal prayer, and for the right amount he was always happy to help. He was well aware some of them tried to ask for Ivelda’s favour through him, which was a role he did not at all mind to take on.

He reached his chamber again and was happy to see his washing bowl had been prepared. He used a cloth to wipe the sweat from his forehead. As he washed himself he changed his clothes to something more comfortable. His sermon might have been done for the day, but his duties surely weren’t. He loved this little break in his day. The speeches he had to give were always very energetic and powerful, they left him heated and drained and longing for some solitude. So the 30 minutes he used afterwards to clean himself were a little bit of heaven for him.

”Is my carriage ready?” he shouted through the door. His staff knew they had to be ready for this, as he had little patience and his punishment was severe and sometimes cruel. ”Yes, Preacher Carama, all is prepared and ready.” was the short response he received back.

Benedicto opened the door and saw the short man who had replied to him. ”Good, good, lead the way.”
He walked behind the man as they exited the church. He saw the carriage, shiny and clearly just cleaned for him. Of course he would not say it, but he was pleased that they paid special attention to him. They knew they had to be careful, especially with the task he was undergoing just now.

In front of the carriage were 2 strong horses to carry it. And in front and behind the carriage were 4 of the most broad shouldered monks they had been able to find. A bodyguard way stronger than any he would actually need, but effective nonetheless.
He stepped into the carriage and checked the list he had with him. ”First stop, the home of Miss Anne-Marie”.
The carriage started moving to the same house they had been to the days before. The home of the stable girl he had interviewed the day of the assassination attempt. He had threatened her family, and he had to make sure to follow up. As soon as he would not follow through on his threats, they would be worth nothing.

Although the girl herself had not been home whenever he visited, they had already expected him. No wonder the news of his interrogation had reached them quickly. He had visited them frequently, feinting concern as they did not have enough money to feed the entire family. He had been ready to take the kids or the father away to a monastery, so they had no need to worry abut feeding them. But the fear of being taken to never be seen again had been far greater than anything else. They had been able to convince Benedicto by giving him extra money, showing him they had money a plenty.

Twenty minutes later, he booked the same result as the day before, walking away with some extra coin. Smiling to himself as he had heard their stomachs rumbling as they had paid him.
”Next stop, the Redstone estate!” he shouted to the carriage driver. The Redstones were a more wealthy family, but instead of the patriarch coming to the sermons the last few days, he had send his wife and daughter. Something Benedicto considered a grave insult. It would take about half an hour to get there, so he opened his book and continued reading where he had left off the day before.

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18D10A

Raiden looked on as the Outrider stepped into the bar with a small crew of ragtag creatures. He pulled his hood a bit further over his head, knowing his bright pink hair would have given him away in a second. Barely looking up from under his hood, he observed them.
After he saw Korgan was being served their mead, he raised his own hand to the barmaid indicating he’d like a refill of his own without ever uttering a word.

When his pint arrived he chucked a generous amount of coins on the table and put his finger on his lips. The barmaid gave a small thankful nod, indicating she would keep his secret. He had sat there long enough for her to recognise him, but he did not feel like he should reveal his presence yet.

He almost went into hunter mode, opening his ears to all the sounds he could hear. Noticing the smells in the small establishment and instantly recognising the salty scent of this group. They came fresh from the Sea, something he hoped never to experience again. Both the smell and the movement of the water made him nauseous in an instant.
He was familiar with most of them. They always seemed to hang around Korgan, not missing any chance to lick his boots so they can feel better about themselves. It was despicable, but exactly what you could expect from Orc’s and Goblins. And somehow, the worst one of all was the Jester. Raiden had a particular dislike for the human doll.

Korgan was blind to think these creatures cared about anything but themselves and the riches they could earn from being near him. He would rather spend a thousand years alone than one day in their company. Actually, a thousand years alone sounds rather good right about now.
He noticed how quick the mead was flowing. And although they became rowdier with every round, the barmaid said nothing as long as the coin kept flowing in.

He felt the atmosphere change when one of the Goblins’s questions turned the group from laughing loudly to still and reminiscing. Raiden knew none of them, part from possibly the jester, would have been allowed in the bar or even the city before Ivelda’s rule. He could not question his Queen’s decisions, but it didn’t mean he had to like these creatures. He was pretty sure she was as despised by them as he was. But they kept the people scared and at the same time, people were strangely aware they were still being treated better than these hyena’s of society.

He heard Korgans comments about being human as clearly as he would have when sitting next to the boar. Finishing his final drink he got up and stopped in front of the other booth, finally taking his hood back. His pink hair shown brightly as the outside sun hit it through the windows.

”So little piggy doesn’t miss being human? A good thing our Queen always knew you were nothing more than a beast. You must have oinked in pleasure when she released you of your human ‘burden’. ”
He heard growls coming from the lips of the beings surrounding Korgan. ”You’re in the wrong part of town looking for trouble, archer!” said the Orc called Karlok.
”Oh what, can you only be in this part of town when your breath smells like Master Piggy’s arsehole? You must be drinking the mead to try and get rid of the taste. But I can see there is a bit of shit on the side of your singular tooth. Just here…” Raiden showed his own teeth and scratched his teeth, indicating to the Orc where he could see the mark.
Confused he saw the Orc trying to get rid of something that wasn’t there.

The midget got up on his chair and knocked Karlok’s arm out of his mouth. He was shaking his head fervently, and pointed with a shaking finger at Raiden. Karlok looked at his hand and then back at the midget, finally realising he had been tricked. Both of them turned to the archer, again growling with anger.
”Francisca, what a surprise! I hadn’t seen you there. You must have been hanging on your Masters teat. Keep drinking little boy, you might grow big and strong someday. Or are you hoping to stay a little piglet, like him? Maybe practice your squealing a bit more.”

6565D1

Benedicto arrived at the Redstone estate as he finished his book. Getting out of the carriage, he told two of the monks to follow him. It was quiet in the courtyard, no kids playing and no goods being offloaded. The preacher hadn’t been here all that often, but he was smart enough to see if something wasn’t right. It was like the Sun had already set on the house. It was dark and the air felt tight around him.

Coming closer to the entrance the door flew open without a warning. The oldest son, Julian, walked out with a big smile on his face. ”Preacher Carama, can I say what an honour it is to welcome you on our humble estate?”
The mans hand came forward in order to shake the hand of the preacher. Benedicto shook the hand of the young man who had a tighter grip than Benedicto cared for. He let go quickly in order to avoid injury.

”Is your father not showing up to church the best way to get me to come over for a visit? I fail to see what’s wrong with a simple letter….” He paused, seeing the expression on the other mans face change.
He could see the young man thinking quickly in what to answer. ”My father has not been well the past few days, Preacher. My apologies, we should have notified you of this. ”
He spoke it out loud, no doubt alerting the people still lurking in the shadows of the house.

As if on queue, the patriarch came out of the door. A blanket wrapped around him and stifling a none existing cough. In a hoarse voice the man exclaimed: ”Preacher, welcome to our humble estate!”
Benedicto quickly held up his hand, silently ordering the man to be silent. ”Yes, yes, you’re son already proclaimed the exact same, Redstone.”
He pulled up his sleeves a bit, and turned a 360 before facing the older man again.
”I seem to remember the courtyard looked a lot more ’humble’ the last time I was here.”

The man swallowed and tried to explain himself, forgetting to use the same hoarse voice he had before. ”Business is good under her Grace. We owe everything to our great Goddess Ivelda.”
Benedicto looked at the monks beside him and gave them a gesture to have a look around the house. ”It would suit your gratitude to show up to my sermon, Redstone. Forgetting to stop by the church like this will be a disappointment to your Goddess and Queen.”

”As my son has told you, I have not been well these last few days. But surely, though bedridden and all I will be there for your next sermon. My wife has told me you have given her divine inspiration this week.”
Benedicto, usually with his head held high, dropped his head down and let out a deep sigh. ”It’s impressive that in your weak health you were able to hear your son advising me on your condition. And is admirable you were still able to work the fields today, seeing the fresh mud on your boots. And it does not color your esteemed wife in a very good light that after being bedridden for days your nails are still showing filth underneath them.”

He stayed silent for a bit. Looking for any answer, but none was forthcoming. ”I would expect someone who lies this much would feel absolutely terrible and would go through quite some trouble to find forgiveness.”
Not knowing what else to say or do, the mans shoulders slumped. ”I…I will seek forgiveness through donation, Preacher. We will pray on this and hope our shown behaviour will be eradicated from our minds. Our apologies you had to come personally to make us see, Preacher Carama.”

”MASTER! You will want to see this!” one of the monks shouted as he exited a barn on the side of the courtyard.
”Oh my, I hope you don’t have more reason to keep me away from your estate, Redstone.” Benedicto looked at the patriarch with amusement in his eyes. If his monks called for him it must indeed be something interesting. His helpers knew what he liked and would not call him if there was nothing too serious.
Benedicto walked over to the indicated shed, the older man following on his heels. ”It is nothing, sir, I swear it to you. Just a boy from the city who tried to steal my daughters necklace after the church service today. My sons were escorting my daughter and wife home and they were able to subdue the boy. But he badly injured my second son. Something is wrong with the boy!”

More interested with every word, Benedicto expected to see quite the sight when entering the shed. But it was not as glorious as he had hoped. His monk held back the second son in question, who was now leaning against the wall. A cage was placed against the other wall, in it a scrawny little boy. An early teen at most. Benedicto could see burn wounds on his skin and he could see the metal rod lying on the floor.
”You keep entertaining houseguests, Redstone. I would imagine that you would report this to the city guard, no? Or have you changed into a judge yourself.”

”We couldn’t do that. The boy…it’s…it’s a monster. We could not do that to the guard, there is a beast within the boy. Look at my son, he’s nearly lost an arm after the kid bit into it with jaws of a wolf. We..we brought him here to kill him, Preacher Carama.”
Benedicto had a smile on his thin lips. Even in the darkness of the shed he could see the glowing eyes of the beast inside the boy. It was not everyday he would stumble on an adolescent lycanthrope.
”So you mean to tell me, you find a boy who is possessed by devils, and you take him home instead of bringing him straight to the church, where we can deal with these things!”he started with a whisper, but finished while shouting at the man.

”But..but look at my son. We couldn’t let him get away with this. You…you must understand.”
Benedicto turned around and told his monks to load the cage into the carriage. He wasn’t sure yet what he would do, but he thought Ivelda might be just as interested as he was. ”What I understand is that this is a direct result of Ivelda’s punishment. You tell me this happened with your daughter in town. You were supposed to be there with her. You were supposed to be at the church. You would have been there to keep her safe. But you choose to ignore your blessings. Well..” Benedicto interjected his own speech with a wry laugh, coming closer to the face of Redstone Senior. ”…you see what happens when you ignore them, when you ignore the being that has given you all your riches. I highly suggest you show up tomorrow in order to avoid any more bloodshed. ”

Moments later, with the cage inside of the carriage, Benedicto had gotten up on one of the horses to make their way back to town. A smile on his face, but still unsure what he would do with the creature.

---

---

18D10A

Raiden gulped seeing the big boar standing up. He wasn’t exactly twice the size, but he was three times as wide as the archer. The sunlight that came through the door turned into a shadow when Korgan stood right between Raiden and the fastest way out of this place. And I thought this was a good idea why again?
He looked around, not necessarily for help, as he knew no one would jump between him and Korgan, even if had wanted that.

”Are you foolhardy, or just plain foolish?”
Raiden was able to put a smile on his face. Whatever punishment he was in for, finally, something was happening again.
”Is it really to much to be both? I mean I have to multiply stupid by stupid to get even halfway to your brain capacity.”
Getting Korgan angry was maybe his best bet, it was well known that Korgan’s temper sometimes got the best of him.
Or he’d have to get him as drunk as he was the other day, with Asher and Tyann, but that would be a hard thing to do in the middle of a fight.

”On my honour as Captain, I'll give the Mutt a sporting hunt.”
The word ‘hunt’ alone already made Raiden feel a lot better. Oh how he missed it.
”Part of the hunt is the track, but I could still smell your breath if you let out a burp in the Emerald Isles, what’s the hunt in ..?”
Before he could finish his sentence he already received the first fist in his face.

He stumbled back, only just enough sense in his body to avoid the second punch aimed at him. Raiden would need his speed in order to avoid a savage beating. He kept his eye on the prize, which wasn’t hard, considering the size of it. With another fist in his direction, Raiden swung himself sideways, rolling with his back over the table in order to create some distance between the two.
In the background, he could hear the raiding crew shouting and laughing, seeing Korgan clearly had the upper hand here.

The archer saw the charge coming. The charge was the same as if Korgan was the most standard of boars, so sure of their frontal attack, they never cared much for changing their course. Raiden jumped out of the way just in time, flying through the air. He landed on his shoulder, continued rolling and stayed squatted down in order to regain his balance.
”GYAHAHHA! Show me a good time, MUTT!” Looking in Korgan’s direction, he saw a table being lifted in the air. The same table he had just used as a way of escape.

Raiden heard laughing next to him, and he realised he was next to the booth where he had just challenged the raid crew. One of the Orcs was pointing at him, laughing his brains (or whatever he kept in his head) out. Seeing the table coming down on him, the archer reacted quickly and pulled the Orcs extended arm closer to him. He grabbed the surprised Orc by the throat and pushed it forward, the table breaking on its back.

The filthy creature stumbled to the ground as the wood splinters were filling the air around them. One of the pieces of wood scraped the cheek of the pink haired man, but it was nothing near the damage the knocked out Orc had endured.
Finally feeling a bit of a breather, Raiden smiled. ”On the honour of captain you just knocked out your own crew. What do they address you as? Captain Dense?”

The rest of Korgan’s raiders got sick of sitting this one out. But their captain had given them a command, so they could not do much more than sit there and look angry. Raiden had to think, it was not going to be much use to tire out the big guy, the place was too small for it. And the last thing he was going to do was leave the bar before the fight was over, he was enjoying way too much.
”Well, what are you waiting for? There is more than one table here to smash your crew with.” Raiden said teasingly as he could see the barmaid crying as her establishment got wrecked.

"Vengeance must always be profound and absolute."
Hex Code ~ #088A29

---

It didn’t take long for the pair to reach the gates of the castle, with Ryder retrieving his personal horse from one of the many stable boys currently running amok, haphazardly preparing for the Queen’s impending travels. This was the case with the majority of the castle’s workers, thankfully it seemed, which allowed for both Ryder and the visibly misplaced frail and blind Edith to slip through the frantic crowds of servants unnoticed. Her disguise, although well-done, had definitely left some questions unanswered and he would much rather avoid said questions altogether if at all possible.

Once he had readied the horse and only after asking gently for her permission, Ryder assisted Edith in mounting the stead, which whinied and paced a bit, clearly unnerved by the predator that was just placed atop it. With a soft pet, he soothed the horse until she had once more settled, her anxiety replaced by the calmness of a mount with its master. Once she was steadied once more, he turned his attention to Edith, who gripped the mane of the horse with a grip so tight that her knuckles were white, an expression of fear across her face. For one who could not see the world, being able to feel and hear it was all that she had, and in placing her atop the horse, Ryder had completely removed half of her connection to what she used as a substitute for her sight, rendering her even more defenseless than she already was. He could immediately see through this fear and, placing a hand atop hers where it was curled in the thick hairs, he smiled up at her, despite the knowledge that she could not see the warmth in his gaze.

”Worry not, young maiden - for I, the brave and valiant Sir Ryder, shall accompany you on this morn’ to ride as we fetch your brother and save him from the evil and vile clutches of the rich and monstrous uncouth fools who dare to lay a hand upon such beauty that is the Madame Edith,” Ryder said this all in one long, lavish breath, laying it on thick, clearly attempting to be over-the-top in such a way to cheer up the young girl who had already been through so much in such a short life. His words drew a giggle of amusement from Edith, her expression relaxing, and once she was as calm as the horse that she rode, he flung himself up behind her, ensuring that she was secure in the spot where she sat before him. With a muttered warning, he gave a gentle squeeze to his steed who responded in kind, taking off at a soft trot at first before developing into a full gallop.

---

Furrowed brows and a crease lined the forehead that belonged to Ryder. He ran his fingers along the dust ridden ledges of the windows that lined the walls of the orphanage, an unpleasant scowl on his lips and his narrowed eyes staring in disapproval at the gray sneeze-inducing substance on his hand. It was clear that the man was unhappy, if his expression was any indicator, and the emotion was set upon the woman before him, with Edith standing closely behind his body, one hand clutching tightly into the back of his shirt - both a way to keep track of him, and a comfort as she hid from the headmistress of the orphanage.

”I suppose if I had not arrived for a surprise inspection, I would not have discovered the quarters in such … disarray,” he stated, the word spoken in a way that relayed his disgust. Finally, he moved his intense gaze up to the woman who, up until that point had held herself high and mighty, her overall aura that of a haughty persona, shrank instantly under the piercingly odd eyes that belonged to the right hand of the Queen herself. The woman’s shoulders slumped a bit and she seemed to almost shrink into herself, a guilty look crossing her face, and she dropped her head in shame, and unable to contain herself, began to tremble in fear over the physical repercussions that she faced.

Ryder, however, not one to strike a woman, simply sighed and shook his head in revulsion at the cowardly woman, wrinkling his nose at the sight of her.

”To think that you call yourself a woman and a mother - and matron and a mentor. You are nothing but a mockery to the art of motherhood and matronage, and you should be ashamed of yourself,” he chastised. The woman brought her trembling hands to her face, her tears evolving into full sobs. ”Enough of your false crocodile tears; I care naught for them and you will not pull me to your side with them either. The more that you shed, the further my irritation with you rises,” he warned, and after a few moments, they dissolved into sniffles but she kept her head lowered to the ground, too ashamed to meet his hardened, unforgiving gaze.

”Consider yourself lucky to have encountered me and not someone of my status with a less forgiving nature, elsewise you would not be so lucky as to escape with your life. The clear neglect of not only this facility but the children within - the very children that will one day help to build the foundation of our land’s future and livelihood - has cause dishonor not only to Rhindeval, but has shown your complete and utter disrespect to the Grace that is our Queen Ivelda. Should it have been Sir Benedicto of The Sect, you would have been sentenced to death of a horrifying nature, or worse, sent to the dungeons to be dissected by our resident psychotic undertaker and his unfortunate new pet,” he practically spat, his disdain for the young man clear in his voice.

Moving on from that, he straightened and approached the woman, glaring down at her and forcing himself to unclench his jaw. ”Consider yourself relieved of your duties from this moment forth, and should you seek out any profession that entails childcare of any sort within the boundaries of Rhindeval, you will find it quite difficult to be hired in such a field,” he warned, his eyes flashing in an even deeper foreboding that should she even dare to try, she would have more things to worry about than simply being rejected from the job. ”Now, retrieve your things from your quarters and leave - you are no longer welcome within this orphanage, or any building that holds children.”

The woman bowed and scurried away, leaving Ryder to further his investigation with Edith and without that woman’s nosy interference, and then attempt to track down where Edmund possibly could have been taken. Before doing so, he did ensure to turn to the Assistant of the Headmistress and issued a few orders so that the orphanage would run smoothly for the next day or so, but was quickly back at work hunting down Edmund. It was easy enough for Edith to show him where the duo had originally been confronted and attacked due to her proficient sniffing abilities. From there he was able to track the scuffle that was home to quite a fair amount of blood, to several sets of footprints alongside a path that had clearly been Edmund struggling against his captors.

Once he found that they led to a fairly obvious set of carriage tracks, he whistled, and not fifteen seconds later his horse came trotting happily around the corner of the orphanage, a mouthful of hay and an annoyed looking stable boy peeking around after her. Casting a sheepish grin at the boy and calling out to repay him later, as well as a soft warning to Edith, he tossed the young girl upon Penelope as gently as he possibly could, swung himself up behind her, and took off following the carriage tracks at a breakneck pace, his arms tight around Edith as she was bounced haphazardly before him, apologies escaping his lips for the uncomfortable ride as they flew threw the city and out to the outskirts where the rich had their large and impressively massive properties. All the while, Edith assisted, her nose only doing so much however as Edmund’s scent had degraded quite a bit over the time that had progressed since his kidnapping had occurred.

When the tracks led to the grounds belonging to the Redstone family, Ryder drew Penelope to a sudden halt, causing her to whine in argument, and he patted her neck in apologies. There was no one at the front gates that stood wide open, which instantly cause his internal alarms to raise, but not wanting to worry Edith, he simply tightened his arms slightly and squeezed his legs, causing Penelope to go into a gentle trot up the path that led to the sprawling homestead. The Redstone family was not the richest of the elites, but they were also not at the bottom of the social ladder either, so the fact that there were no guards stationed at the gates paired with the quiet in the air made him more than uneasy. The courtyard was all but abandoned, the only inhabitants being perhaps a handful of servants going about their normal duties - doing laundry, fetching water, the like. This further raised red flags to Ryder, who slowed Penelope to a stop before the stables, dropped from her saddle, and assisted Edith in dismounting before tying Peneloping to a nearby hitchpost with plenty of hay and water beside it. After a pat on the kind steed’s snout, he allowed Edith to once more grip the back of his shirt so as to guide her behind him, and he approached the household, his expression dark and his stature prepared for the worst.

Before he could reach the front doors, he paused. Edith had tugged at his shirt and, without a word, she had pointed in one simple direction. From what little one could see of the girl’s expression behind her bandages, they could tell that she held a look of both fear, desperation, and crushed hope. Ryder could only imagine what type of scents she was taking in, and what she had heard with her oversensitive nose and ears, and ever-so-slowly, he turned his head in the direction that her trembling finger pointed.

There stood a gaggle of men, the oldest of whom held a scowl on his face, his annoyance clear on his face. ”That damn Benedicto. So young yet he thinks himself on par with a God! What a mockery! Pah!” The old man exclaimed, and although Ryder held his own amount of disdain towards the man in question, for Sir Redstone to be speaking ill of someone that the Queen held within so high regards was to make a mockery of the Queen herself. ”To think that he can just waltz in with his occult and take the very monster that injured my son … The very monster that we were entitled a blood debt to! That cursed child drew blood from Redstone kin … It is only fair for that debt to repaid in kind!”

The group had yet to notice Ryder and Edith, which was an advantage to him, and this gave him a moment to survey them. It was clear from their discussion that Edmund had been there, and also Benedicto Carama, and given that neither was present at the time, it was a fair assumption to make that Benedicto had taken Edmund with him. There were a few that were clearly servants of Sir Redstone, and two young men that from their clothing he assumed were the young sons of the House of Redstone, one of whom seemed to be badly injured. From the distance it was hard to say for certain, but it almost looked to be Edmund’s doing, and a small smirk turned up Ryder’s lips. Looking past the men and into the barn, he spotted what Edith must have smelled, which was a square outline in the dirt, specks of blood on the ground, a few rods lying around that he assumed were pure silver if these men had any brain cells to claim, and various other weapons and restraints that clearly did not belong within a barn. Rage instantly welled up within his chest, but with a clenched jaw, he forced himself to hide his anger, instead throwing a carefree smile on his face as he strode over to the men.

”I could not agree more; that Benedicto is absolutely unbearable,” he groaned, rolling his eyes and ignoring the odd looks that the men gave him, instead giving them a confident smile in response. ”Apologies, my good men, I could not help but overhear your complaints, for I am here because Benedicto realized after leaving so shortly ago that he had been unjust in simply taking the young monster from your care, so he sent me to offer repayment and penance so that it is … of an equal trade, one could say,” he said with a small, unreadable smile on his lips. The men seemed to hesitate but the patron of the family instantly moved forward, seeming to eat up Ryder’s words, none the wiser to what Ryder was planning, and as soon as the man was within arm’s length, Ryder reached out and placed a hand gently on the man’s shoulder, that unreadable smile still on his face. ”Ah, however, I did forget to mention that the trade seemed to be unequal for us, as it seems that you have yet to learn your lesson, old man,” he paused and leaned in closer, his lips near the patron’s ear, his voice dropping to a whisper before he continued, ”As the saying goes, ’You cannot teach an old dog new tricks’.” With that, it took nary a second for Ryder to unsheath the small dagger at his waist which he instantly dove into the old man’s spinal cord, drawing a scream of absolute agony from his lips. This caused the men in the group to go into action, drawing their weapons from their sheaths and moving forward as Ryder held the old man up, turning him in his arms so they could see the twisted face that was their Patron.

”Ah, I suppose I should tell you all - I lied. I am actually the right hand of the Queen, the glorious Goddess that is our beautiful and lovely Ivelda, and I am more than free and obligated to act out in her righteous duty however should I see fit,” he said softly and cooly, that unreadable smile never wavering from his lips, his piercing eyes frighteningly dark despite their bright colors. There was almost something missing in those eyes, as though his soul were no longer there. Lifting the now blood-stained dagger, he allowed the old man to crumple in a complete and utter heap to the ground, ignoring the sobs of pain he let out as Ryder approached the group of men who now stood with their weapons held in uncertainty.

He turned his dark eyes on the servants, narrowing them. ”I would highly recommend lowering your weapons should you wish to leave with your lives. This is not your battle to fight within, and I do not wish to injure or slay innocently involved people,” he warned, his face showing them that this would be their only warning. The two men exchanged a look before dropping their weapons and retreating within the barn, their hands raised in surrender and leaving him with the two sons of Redstone whose gazes flickered between their sobbing father and the approaching, unreadable man before them. He cocked his head slightly to the side and raised a brow at the injured one before shrugging his shoulder and waving the boy off, but when the young man did not budge, he narrowed his gaze once more and waved again, this time making it clear that there would not be a third wave. With a nudge of warning from his elder brother, the young man begrudgingly backed up to be with the two servants, his worry evident in his features.

Ryder, however, took his sweet time, and began to whistle a bit of a jaunty tune, eying his knife a bit ominously as he approached the spot in the barn that the outline of the square box was. Once he had, he crouched down beside it, tracing the spot a bit in the dirt with the blood encased knife. After a moment, he stopped whistling and looked up at the wall, seemingly brooding on something, but before any of the men present could speak or even react, he had moved in an instant, his actions almost a blur.

Kah-kang cong kang kung!

The sound echoed slightly throughout the barn and was followed by the immediate shriek of the elder son of the Redstone family as he crumpled to the ground, hands gripping his now twisted and mangled leg. A bent silver rod lay beside his writhing body on the ground, and from what the men could assume, Ryder had flung the rod with such precision and force, it had impacted and crushed the young man’s leg on impact before following to rest beside him. The younger son rushed to his brother’s side while the servants hurried to the patron of the family who was quickly turning white in the blood beginning to pool around him. Ryder simply rose to his feet, once again calm and placid, and dusted himself off, surveying the horror and bloodshed around him as he began to walk back to Edith, who stood where he left her. She did not know exactly what had happened but she had a fairly good idea given the sounds and smells, and she knew the Young Master Ryder to be a very scary man should one get on his bad side, and she thanked the Gods that he liked her and her brother.

”Now, I would recommend caring for your wounded and never again making the mistake of angering those associated with the righteous Queen Ivelda. Have we made ourselves clear enough?” The wails and sobs of agony he received in response were answer enough and he smiled, allowed Edith to clasp his shirt once more, and cast a look in the direction of the front doors of the household that now stood open with the young daughter of the family standing within them with her mother, both of whom held horrified expressions upon their faces. ”Ah, and as for you two - I would highly recommend no longer lying through your teeth - lest you wish for me to come visit again and take a limb or two this time, instead of simply causing a bit of pain,” he warned, holding a sweet, unreadable smile once more. The young girl began to sob in horror, but he ignored her, approached Penelope, helped Edith up, and they were off towards the city once more, leaving the chaos of the Redstone estate behind.

---

Ryder wasted no time in reaching the castle, as he knew exactly where Benedicto would head should he have discovered something like an untrained Lycanthrope within Rhindeval. He would wish to show off his new treasure to Ivelda like the little pet that he was, not knowing that the Queen was already well aware of the treasures that were the Lycanthrope orphans Edith and Edmund. As soon as they were within castle walls, he dismounted and threw Penelope’s reigns at the nearest stable boy, vowing to make it up to her later, and took off with Edith on his heels to the carriage that he saw within the entrance that held the colors and emblem of Benedicto and his sect.

”Benedicto!” he bellowed, his fury evident in his voice. It was rare for anyone to see any emotion from the man that was the right hand of the Queen, let alone anger, so for those that were present in the courtyard, this was frightening indeed. The servants scurried away to hide within the palace or watch from a safe distance, and the guards and knights did the same, the stable boys hiding within the stable’s to watch with curiosity. It was clear that the leader of the religious sect had done something to absolutely infuriate the man that was the most trusted advisor of the Queen, and he seemed to be practically seething with rage.

When he finally reached the carriage, Benedicto himself was quite close to it, but before Ryder could approach him, Edith ran from his side and towards the carriage that belonged to the leader of the sect, obviously not knowing where she was heading other than the fact that it was towards her brother’s scent, but was stopped by two men in church garb before she could reach it. One of them reach down and plucked her up like she was nothing more than a ragdoll and simply peered at her before laughing and tossing her aside again, like she was nothing more than a toy. The girl landed with a sound of alarm, and this drew a near-inhuman sound from Ryder’s lips. It took mere seconds for him to close the distance between himself and the carriage, and once he had, he shot out both hands, one grabbing the hair of the man on the right and forcing him to the ground, and the other wrapping around the throat of the man on the left. This caught them both off-guard, allowing him to toss them to the ground before the carriage, which he gripped the door to and wrenched open, revealing an extremely frightened and extremely injured Edmund encaged within.

Ryder stood still for a moment, his eyes staring into Edmund’s as his rage slowly and gradually built, and after a few seconds had ticked by, he reached his boiling point. His fingers tightened around the doors to the carriage briefly before he pushed himself back, ignoring the men that had now scrambled over to Benedicto’s side, and he turned slowly to face Benedicto, withdrawing the sword at his hip as he did so, the absolute fury blazing within his gaze one that was completely unrecognizable in the young man that was otherwise known for a placid and gentle persona.

”Give me one reason right now why I should not cleave you in two, Benedicto Carama, in the name of the Great and Honorable Ivelda herself, as you cage and injure a loyal servant of the Goddess within a carriage that you own,” he practically snarled out.

”No one is useless in this world,
Who lightens the burdens of another.”
~Charles Dickens
Hex Code ~ #088A29

---

The knights had barely taken two steps from the carriage when there came the ominously loud sound of a large beast approaching. Unperturbed, Ryder merely glanced over his shoulder in the direction of the echoing footfalls to see the impressive wyvern that Ivelda had come to like so much, with the very Queen herself atop it, alongside an unknown male. With a long enough glance at the man to take in his features and commit them to memory, Ryder turned to face his approaching Queen, the knights holding the cage lowering it to the ground to do the same, and he dropped to one knee with his head bowed, the knights following suit as their Queen approached. Knowing her fairly well, he could sense her frustration over the immediate glance she gave of the situation at hand, and internally cursed Benedicto for causing further stress to his beloved Idol. It was oh so satisfying when she began to chastise him for Edmund’s current status, and Ryder was forced to push back a smirk that threatened to break across his lips.

He did, however, flick a glance in Edmund’s direction, his gaze holding a fair amount of warning for the young lycanthrope to behave himself in Ivelda’s presence. Ryder knew better than anyone else how Edmund felt towards the Queen, with the fact that her troops had carried the blades that killed his pack, but the rarity of his blood was worth far more to them alive than dead. Thankfully, the boy remained calm and simply relaxed in the cage, thankful for the ordeal to finally be over, his body clearly sore and his mind exhausted.

It was only once the Queen had made it clear that she was done finally responded with a simple, ”Yes, my Queen.” With that, he rose and strode to the side of the cage where he awaited Benedicto to release the boy, his expression placid but his eyes holding the amusement of someone victorious. He said nothing as the cage was unlocked - in his mind he really did not need to, he had already won and proven himself right - but instead simply crouched down and assisted Edmund in crawling out and, when the boy found that he could not walk, he scooped the frail teenager with ease and carried him as one would a bride, prompting a heated protest from the lad in return. When Ryder simply gave him a stony look, the boy fell into quick silence, but his face continued to show his discontent over the situation and as they walked a grumble could be heard every so often. Edith trailed behind the pair, her fingers curled in the back of Ryder’s now-crinkled shirttail, and although she was obviously still concerned for her brother, there was a clear ease over the girl now that was not there before.

After several minutes of walking the trio finally reached Ryder’s quarters. It took mere moments for him to skillfully unlock the three mechanisms latching the door shut, and once inside he easily kicked it shut behind them. ”Edith, eat some snacks,” he ordered, and the girl wasted no time happily complying, scurrying to where she could smell the yummy snacks were at. When Edmund gave the man a pleading look, he shook his head in response. ”None for you. We have no idea how badly you are hurt and how quickly your Lycan blood will heal you. It is best to wait for the physician to assess your injuries and the necessary medical treatment before we allow you to eat or drink anything, in case there are more serious wounds,” he explained, so that the boy would better understand that he was not denying him out of cruelty. After a moment of annoyed glaring, Edmund sighed and conceded, flopping back on Ryder’s bed where the older man had gently placed him.

Once he was satisfied that the two young troublemakers were content for the moment, Ryder removed his gear and placed it on his desk before he leaned against his, arms crossed and eyes focused on the door as he waited patiently for the doctor to arrive.