The sun shining off the tall gates of Sena City was a welcoming sight, despite my grievance in returning. Home would always be home, and the Castle Sena had long been that, but I didn’t look forward to returning. Castle life had made me soft, I realized that now. The perfumed sheets and eager servant girls inspired laziness compared to the furs and whores I suffered during the war. I was no longer bitter about the change in lifestyle, and now looked forward to staring down at my many brothers and cousins with disdain. Let them speak to me after they’ve beat a man to death with a stone.

A pace behind me, Longston and Blue rode to either side; the three of us heading the procession of a five-hundred-man cavalry. My constant guards and companions throughout the war had come to know me well. They knew I wasn’t satisfied with being recalled before I had advanced my second class from a third-tier [Commander] to fourth-tier [General]; a few more battles were all I needed. They knew me so well, they could tell my mood simply by how I rode towards the gates, and their conversation reflected that.

“Be nice not to hear them damn chains rattling,” Longston said, loud enough for the three of us but not for those who rode behind. The tall man had a way with words sometimes, I could give him that.

“Aye, damned Mirks and their pox-marked priests. Every cursed day, at dawn and again at dusk, I heard them chains. Say what you will about Elora or Bi, but I’ll be spending an hour or two in their temples to clear my mind. Started to hear chains rattlin’ in my head at night.” Blue cursed more now than when the war started.

Longston laughed loud and deep in response, “Don’t think they got a temple in any of the brothels, brother. I know that’s where you’ll be.”

“They say Elora is the goddess of Light and Love, so I think I’ll be worshipping her tonight. I can’t help but love me some women. And they love me right back.” I could hear the smile in Blue’s voice.

“They love your gold, you mean. Might as well pray to the Heron, maybe he’ll barter you a discount,” Longston guffawed.

I heard Blue spit to the side, “The Heron’ll see me poor. I don’t have enough coins in my purse ta be foolin’ with no merchant’s god. No, Elora is whose name I’ll be calling tonight. Only one of the three that sounds like a proper maiden’s name.”

“As if you would know what to do with a proper maiden,” Longston retorted and I couldn’t help but chuckle softly.

The merchants and commonfolk in lines before the gate made way for our procession, and the guards at the gate saluted as we approached. I wasn’t certain how many of them had seen battle as we did, but they did a fine job of standing tall and still in my honor. I took off my helm and carried it under one arm. I was a proud Prince of Sena, and I intended to show it. “At ease,” I called to the guards arrayed before me.

More guards rushed down from the guardhouse and battlements to form a small platoon, ten men wide and twelve men deep. After forming up, the guards went still until their captain called out, “Kneel before the First Prince!”

The guards, row by row, took a knee. Each man that knelt punched an armored first into the ground, creating a metal clang that was almost musical in its repetition.

Yet, I was no longer paying attention, “Captain.”

The man rushed to my side and knelt like the others, “My lord, what is your command?”

“Why did you call me first prince, do you not recognize me?”

The captain looked up from where he knelt and blanched. Beneath his plumed helmet, I could see his green eyes widen and his face lose color. “Forgive me, my lord, I thought you knew. Your brother Fermont has passed in battle not three weeks hence. Please pardon me for bearing this news!”

I was appalled. How had I not heard? I could hear the rising sound of whispers behind me, though from my men or the commonfolk I couldn’t tell. My brother was mine to kill! I had devoted every waking moment of battle dreaming of his stupid face. Every soldier slain, every commander beheaded, every priest I had run down were only steps rising up to where Fermont stood. I had a plan, a challenge to duel him in front of the entire court.

“What—what happened?” I asked in shock. Fermont held a fourth-tier class, and several more besides. He wouldn’t fall without a battle.

“Wyverns, my lord. They say a host of wyverns dove from the sky on the eve of victory at Lice Hill. They say he killed three by his own hand before he fell.”

“Wyverns?” I whispered to myself, feeling breathless. That made no sense at all! I sat on my horse in stunned silence trying to piece together how that could happen for many moments before Longston spoke.

“The prince is stunned at the loss of his beloved brother. Please continue your duties and we will see to him.” Longston rode to my side and tied my horse to his as we rode through the gates.

I felt as though I was in a fog as we entered, yet even I noticed that there was almost no one in sight. Fearing a trap, my hand gripped the hilt of my sword, and I turned my head to either side. My knights likewise appeared on edge. Normally, the fifth ring was a bustling hive of degenerate filth, the worst that Sena City had to offer.

“Blue,” I called but didn’t look in his direction. Blue knew what I wanted, and rode away from us towards the nearest peasant.

“You there,” he called, singling out a destitute old mother in rags, “Where are the people?”

The mother sat alone before a hovel of dirt and straw, something that looked as though it would blow over in a strong wind. Her face was covered with dust and grime; her hair matted and greasy. She had been watching us as we entered, but now she looked towards Blue with a grim smile.

“Gone. Gone. All gone. Is that the Prince? Prince of No One?” she asked, her face one of intensity.

“Aye, that’s yer prince. Mine too, and I ain’t no one,” Blue answered his voice threatening.

They spoke a little more, but I no longer listened. If this wasn’t a trap, I could return to my thoughts. My brother was dead, at the hands of—who? Wild monsters? It was absurd. He may as well have tripped on the battlements and fallen to his death.

We continued onwards into the fourth ring, a place that should have been filled with tradesmen hawking wares and haulers moving crates or barrels. Instead, it was half as busy as it should be, and the faces I could see were more downcast than I could understand. We weren’t winning the war, not by any perspective, but with the added armies from Eistoni, we were taking back the Freetoni Lands we had lost. These people looked as though they expected Mirktallean troops to siege the city any day, and we were far, far from that.

The market was no better. Half of the stalls lay empty as we rode by, and the merchants I could see weren’t nearly as busy as they should be. Only a few looked to be happy, and the rest held stony expressions and eyed our knights with open contempt. This wasn’t the city I left. Had my brother’s death had such an impact here? A wyvern attack, no matter how many he slew, was not the glorious death due a prince of Sena.

It was in the third ring, I began to see more oddities that made no sense. Entire roads that should have been cobbled were instead a lane of sharpened stone spikes jutting from the ground. Buildings of stone that should have stood clean and proud were marked with lines of fire as if someone took a flaming whip to them. One store, abandoned, was filled with hundreds of illusionary rabbits hopping about and people walked it without regard, as if it had been that way for years.

“What in Elora’s light happened here?” Blue whispered. That he didn’t curse was as much a sign something was wrong as his question.

“It’s like the city has gone mad,” Longston answered.

The second ring was untouched by madness from what I could see. The same noble houses and estates stood in manicured perfection, their fountains running and their servants working. It was a relief to see that this part of the city was untouched, but it was also the part of the city I wanted to see touched the most. As much as I had planned the death of my brother, I still loved him in a way. He was my brother. That none of these great houses showed signs of grief at his passing almost felt an insult to his name. Would they disregard my death as well?

The gates to Castle Sena were opened for us when we arrived, and servants in the dozens rushed to meet us. I didn’t bother to change from my armor as I entered the keep and followed a servant to where my father was waiting. The servant was a little slip of a girl, barely budding. Still, the sense of unease I felt only rose as I grew closer. The halls and rooms that should have made me feel welcomed and safe now felt constricting. Grandfather had descended into madness. Had father as well? How would he receive me? I wasn’t my brother, and Fermont had always been the son more doted on.

She turned to me in one of the halls and whispered, “Your lordship, the king is in a fierce mood, I hope you are wary.”

“A fierce mood?” I asked, looking down at the girl.

“Aye. He killed old Andrik just for sayin’ his first son’s name. Backhanded him and Andrik’s head turned right ‘round, it did.”

“Ah,” I answered. Andrik had been a loyal butler for us for many years, a quiet man with a dry sense of humor. I hadn’t known him well, but I knew his name and face.

I met my father in the solar, the room designed to reflect sunlight in a way that it always seemed overly bright during the day. Many mirrors hung from brightly painted white walls, the white marbled floor polished to a shine. Furniture of polished glass or white cloth sat beneath great windows that curved from the eastern wall into the ceiling. The room was so bright that I had to shade my eyes when one of the two doors into the room opened.

Contrary to that brightness, my father sat on a couch dressed in entirely black as he read through missives. Not necessarily the color of mourning, but one that gave no doubt to his mood. He looked more aged today than I had ever seen him before, even after my third mother’s death.

“Stallmont,” he said, not bothering to look up from what he was reading.

“Father,” I answered with a quick bow as the servant who had guided me here departed.

“Sit.” My father commanded, his voice both firm and pained.

Uncertainty and fear began to creep into me as I walked into the room. If he found me wanting, would he have me killed to let a younger brother take my place? Would he send me forth into a battle that I held no hope of victory? I sat down on the couch across from him, the fine furniture creaking beneath the weight of my armor.

I was silent for many moments as he read, and then he placed the scroll down and rubbed his forehead. When he looked up, I could see the red rings around his eyes, evidence he had been crying earlier.

“Your brother is dead.”

I nodded, “I heard just today. Wyverns, they said.”

My father snorted and spit the word, “Wyverns.” He shook his head, “What else did you hear? Did you hear that the mad wizard summoned them from the west, laughing all the while? That his assistant was seen riding the largest one not three days ago?”

My eyes widened. The mad wizard?! He killed my brother? I didn’t voice my thoughts, but my shock was seen.

The king sighed, a defeated sound. He looked at the scroll he had just placed down as he spoke, “The mad wizard. Our trap for him failed. Some rogue alchemist enraged the monster before he arrived, and it killed three hundred men. This is his retribution.”

My father’s eyes slowly rose to look at me, then he shouted, “My son! Your brother! He took him from us!”

Spittle flew from his lips, but I said nothing. I had no answer for that, and I feared this was a sign of the beginnings of his descent into madness. Yet, he calmed from his outburst quickly. “You aren’t angry, because you know not what he has done to Sena.”

Softly, I asked, “What has he done father?”

My father, I had never seen him display such rage and passion as he did in his answer, “Duchess Eistoni rebels, the traitor. Duke Birktoni has gone silent, but his silence speaks to conspiracy. He has destroyed all trade throughout the kingdom. The gemstones he hoarded forced us to withdraw gold from the vaults, gold that is now beyond our reach because it is trapped in cities that stand a hundred feet high! How will we pay our soldiers with empty coffers? And my city. Our city. Our beautiful city. It lays half empty, and those that remain are afraid to leave their homes lest they be slain by spells that my mages level at each other!”

I leaned back away from him as he screamed. When he finished, I was too surprised, by both his intensity and his words to truly consider a response. All I could ask was, “He did all this?”

My father stood and began pacing, “This and worse. He would take all I love from me, from us, so we will do the same.”

I didn’t answer right away. I searched for words to answer with. My father had always been a calm and astute figure in my life, and seeing him so enraged left me uncertain of how I should carry myself. Still, I couldn’t fail to answer him, “How will we do that?”

“Send her in!” he called towards the other door, the door I hadn’t entered through. Outside it, there was some shuffling before the door was opened, and in walked a beautiful young woman I had never laid eyes on before. She walked with tiny steps and a slow grace that befitted proper nobility, though her face bore none of the traits I had come to recognize. Instead, she had a dainty nose and piercing yellow eyes that matched her golden hair and skin.

She dressed in a scarlet gown of frills and lace, the color accenting that of her lips in a way I found positively enticing. Behind her, a dog of some sort trotted in as well leaving brown footprints on its path. I would have named it a young wolf, if it didn’t have tiny leaves and flowers for hair. She came forward to stand between us at just the right distance and curtseyed with practiced ease. Was she some northern noble? A lesser Mirktallean house? The young wolf, if that’s what it was, sat on its haunches, as formal and well-mannered as its masters.

“Greetings this day, your grace, King of Sena, and greetings to you as well, First Prince. It is an honor to meet you,” her words were spoken elegantly with a small smile.

I felt captivated but knew better than to show weakness before anyone, not here in the castle. I glanced towards my father who looked at me with a smirk on his face. “Prince Stallmont, I would like to present to you Lady Lily, Princess of the Quad Isles. Your new intended.”

The Quad Isles? That made no sense, the isles were but rocks and reefs, and a single port town that wouldn’t exist without trade. Was this some trick? A test?

My father continued, “Lady Lily comes to us directly from her steward’s home. Raised in a magical tower by the Mad Wizard, himself. A talented young woman who offers much to the family.”

She was raised by the Wizard? The one that father was furious at only moments before? I couldn’t keep my thoughts to myself and spoke them out loud before I thought them through. “Father, how can we trust her then?”

My father had been smiling at the woman before I had blurted my question and turned towards me with a fierce frown, but Lady Lily curtseyed again with a smile and a fluttering of her eyes. “I can answer that, your grace. If I may.”

My father’s angry frown didn’t disappear, but it did lessen. He nodded once and granted her permission, “You may.”

The resplendent Lady Lily turned and beamed a bright smile that warmed my heart, “First Prince, it is truly a simple answer. The Mad Wizard, Nemon Fargus, tried to kill my mother. He failed, but what could I do? I am but a girl.”

I thought I saw a gleam of madness in her eyes when she spoke, but then I watched her as she leaned down and pat the young wolf on the head as if consoling the wolf were the proper course of action. No, that couldn’t have been madness. It must have been anger I had seen. Anyone would be angry at the man who tried to kill their mother, it was only natural.

It made me angry too. How dare anyone harm such an innocent young lady? My betrothed deserved so much more!