Vance

The Prince of the Storm was glad to wait for new arrivals to Stormkeep for once. Today he did not welcome visiting lords or emissaries, but his own brother. For months Vance feared he would never wake up, only to find out that not only had he woken up but taken it upon himself to travel to Bosque. Little brother, there surely ought to be a pace between a dead stop and full sprint. The two sent each other many ravens since the younger brother woke up but this would be their first time meeting since Von had lost his memory. I wonder how much he changed.

The small group accompanying them flowed through the castle gates, a noble carriage carrying a guest led by the Lord of Stormkeep and followed by nine men. It was a sign of the macabre that a small trip to Bosque had cost them so heavily. It was a sign of pride that three of them weren’t there. You may have forgotten how to wield steel, but not when to bring it down, my brother. He had done well. Even before he started his swordsmanship training all those years ago he had always understood proper Stormener honor. And now was no different, as he rode ahead of the carriage proudly and properly.

“My brother,” Von said, vaulting off his horse and smiling, “you have not changed at all. Most impressive, as I am missing five years of the past.”

Would that Vance could say the same. Von had lost some muscle during his unconsciousness, and though he regained most of it, his build was now quite different—leaner. Strength was there, to be certain. Master Cycle had taken it upon himself to impose a new exercise regime and it had clearly taken. Yet the muscles he had worked on were different from Von’s large arms of yesteryear. His hair was different now as well, stopping before his shoulders, and face clean-shaven over the stubble he had grown fond of. He looked like neither the Von of five years past nor the Von he had last seen. A mix of the two. Most unsettling.

Yet he was his brother still, and he loved him greatly, so upon their reunion he only said, “Welcome back home, my brother.”

By their embrace’s end the others had dismounted and Captain Ren had informed him of the three thieves as well as the dead coachman. All which he knew of, but it was proper for him to be informed of in person. He dismissed the riders one by one, then opened the carriage door to hold the guest’s hand and gently help her onto the ground. “My lady,” he said, bowing his head lightly, “Stormkeep welcomes you as its honored guest once more.” Vance took this moment to look at the woman. She really is an elf, he noted. Golden of hair, green of eye. She had the odd combination of beauty and strength so many women in the Six Princedoms would have sacrificed their kin for. But she is still an elf. Von would do well to remember this, as well as his title.

“Your hospitality touches my heart,” Talla replied, bowing slightly in response. “I will not take advantage of it, my prince.”

He waved it off. “When Von first awoke, the letter I received from him showed he had reverted to his craven ways.” The elf twitched slightly here, a hint of displeasure across her otherwise polite smile and this concerned him. Mere thankfulness to the man who fights for your people, I hope. “The letter I received from him after your initial talks with him—two duels in a month! He has regained his fire.”

“You think so?” she asked, a different kind of concern to her tone. “Has he?”

She too has known Von before his memories were lost. This must be jarring for her as well. “I do not know if it is the same fire—but I do know that there is a flame in his heart now and that is enough for me.”

The two continued to exchange pleasantries for a moment, other formalities were taken care of and every rider was shown where bread, wine and fire would be awaiting for them. No sooner all obligations were taken care of, Von said to him, “Let us see Veren,” he said immediately, “I need to tell him how my trip went.”

Vance’s concerns melted away. Different as he might be, he was still his brother. Before he became a swordsman—before he lost his memories—and now, all versions of Von thought of Veren first. He would never forget his family and his twin, even all these years later. There wasn’t a need for words, and this too reaffirmed it to him that the two were still as close as they had ever been. Their mother absently called for Von to warm himself in the fire before heading to the crypt but neither of them paid her warning any mind. She understood why.

It had been a dark, humid place where plants grew from inside the stone walls once. Pay no attention to the dead, their father had said. It was better to focus on the aboveground where others lived. Von had been the most defiant of the siblings at the time, timid as he was, and paved the underground crypts with Fairstones, even taking it upon himself to trim off the plants every few moons. Now, only the narrow stone steps and coldness remained a problem.

“I thought more than once that I would come back here as a corpse,” Von muttered, “my skills are still gone, my prince.”

Vance barked a laugh at that. “Father would rise from his crypt were you to die to a baker’s son.” Ardente’s father was a rather fantastic baker, however. “It does not surprise me that you managed to best him with a foot still in the land of dreams.”

“The issue was the elf,” Von muttered, and his hand reached for his shoulder, massing it absently. When Vance looked at him questioningly, his younger brother used his free arm to touch at his forearm and point at where he had been hit. “He nearly killed me, Rei of Bosque.”

“Stripped of your memories, yet you bested their champion. Well done.” They exchanged smiles at this. “You mentioned the wounds in the letters. How do they heal?”

Von stretched his shoulders. “Quite fantastically. Talla’s elderflowers are quite useful—I am well enough to practice again, as Master Cycle is sure to make me. Not well enough to do so without pain.”

“Not much in life can be done without pain,” Vance barked, “especially not as a lord.”

“Aye, my prince.” He paused to study his footing before continuing the downward path. Their brother was buried in the deepest level. “Your meeting with the tribe-chiefs—how did it go?”

Vance responded with a mighty shrug. “The chieftains were torn between being glad I was there and upset I took so long. Elgor was more on the latter side than the former, but even he was understanding enough. We talked of setting a road between Storm’s Eye and Stormhelm…might make it faster for them to get aid from us and faster yet to travel. A dream for clear skies, that one.”

“But a good dream regardless,” Von said in a serious tone.

“Aye, brother,” Vance acknowledged. “A good dream regardless.” He did not need to tell Von about the raiders from the Thunder Islands he needed to fight off—his wounds were few, and he had no intention of keeping the attention on him. No one would have blamed you if you decided to take up cravenness, Von. Not even I. You did wonderfully. “You have done well,” he said quietly.

“Thank you, my prince,” Von replied in a mutter.

It was his duty to lead. The Prince of the Storm walked past his brother as they reached the lower floor and tapped along the wall a few times until he recognized the markings he had made himself a few years back. “This way,” he said, “let us not get lost here.”

“Not again,” Von muttered, and they both laughed. The two Redgraves made their way through the cold pillars, the sound of their footsteps against cold stone echoing around them. Fairstone light was even for the most part, but a few stones needed to be replaced—they flickered in and out, devoid of blood, spitting out shadows against walls. First they passed the Icefolk, and both Redgraves lowered their heads in respect. Ice statues carved in their likeness flanked their crypts as if to protect them, and remind the world what they looked like. Hundreds of years later, and they still do not melt or lose shape. Eventually, they passed by Vizer the Frozen, the first human to bear the title King in the Storm, and his wife, Ermina the Kind, one of the last of the Icefolk. Here they stopped to pay respects to the creators of House of Redgrave, and continued only after a long prayer. They passed many other legendary Redgraves on the way, Rob of the Two-Edges, who struggled between hard decisions without losing his or his subject’s honor, Von the Storm’s Eye, who brought peace to the hundred year war against the wolves, Dyne the Maelstrom, who ravaged through the Thunder Islands until King Menser of Trovão laid his crown at his feet, Reven the Stormbringer, who claimed the wolves’ Northhaven as Stormener territory.

And finally, there was their brother.

Fourteen years of age when he was executed by their father, represented by a youthful ice sculpture optimistically looking up, as if glancing toward a future he would never have. Always seemed a sort of sick humor to me. They hung their heads respectfully.

“Dear brother,” Von began, “last we spoke, I was not sure if I would return to a life of swordsmanship. Every night I prayed that you would come to my dreams and tell me what to do.” He paused, and smiled. “Of course, there was no need. Your answer is the same whenever I close my eyes. This life of mine will not be wasted.” Von brought a fist to the left side of his chest. “This Heartbeat of yours will claim the title someday. I swear it.”

I doubt that is a thought that came to you before. But I do not think you are lying either, Von. Sometimes, speaking to the dead clears your mind of much. “The title of prince is mine,” Vance muttered, “so it falls on me to wear Father’s boots, and that much is within my power. Filling them is much harder.” The words came out so naturally it shocked him. He had not dared to admit it to himself. “It would help to have you here, little mighty brother.”

“Aye,” Von agreed, “we miss you dearly, Veren.”

Vance’s face was hidden by the flickering of Fairstone for a moment. “You deserved better, Veren,” he muttered. “You needn’t have died.” A silence came over, followed by a concern. “Do you remember, Von? Why he died?”

“Aye. That much was not affected.” Von touched the sculpture’s face as if doing so would bring him closer to his brother. Twins, Vance thought, looking closely. It was easy to forget, with how different they had been. Von had always been shy, closed-off, and Veren had been so strong and ambitious. I remember when Von first picked up a sword, there was a rumor that Veren had returned from the dead and possessed his body. It was almost believable, so intense was the change. Almost. “Veren engaged with dark magic,” Von muttered. “He bought books from merchants, paid off travelers…everything he could. Father warned him not to. He kept going. Wanted to make himself stronger, so he could compete with wolves and the like in tournaments.”

“Desire for strength makes men do mad things,” Vance muttered. “Mad things indeed. But you knew that already.” He caught himself. “Perhaps not. Forgive me, brother. I forget that your memory escapes you.”

Von started to nod, then stopped and shook his head. “I do know it,” he muttered. “Not as I once did, but…” His brother’s thumb shot his sword out of its sheath slightly and he admired the exposed steel. “I understand it,” he repeated, “the desire to become stronger…” Von’s voice faded. “I only wish I understood it while Veren was still alive. Mayhap if my heart understood his, my words would have reached him before Lord Father’s steel did.”

“Remember your Master’s words,” Vance told him solemnly, “If, if, if…if doesn’t exist.”

“Aye.” Von acknowledged. “That is true.” He looked at Veren’s statue for a long time. The two said a few more words, told stories of their travels to the sculpture as if it could respond to them. It saddened them, yet it brought a smile to their face. And it empowered them. “I should go, my brother. Talla is our guest, and this trip was hard on her.” He did not need to specify why—the incident with the soldiers as well as her duel with the Elder.

“Maybe she desires to be alone after such a trying period.”

“So long as it is by desire, not by necessity,” Von said firmly. “I will let Lady Talla know I am at her disposal.”

This was proper behavior for a lord. Yet Vance did not approve of it. Not having a reason to voice it, however, he allowed his concerns to die in his throat and instead said, “Be well, brother. I will remain here for a while longer.”

Von bowed to both his brothers once more and made his way out of the crypts. His footsteps echoed long after he disappeared from sight, and even after sound disappeared Vance could still feel the vibration of his brother’s footsteps above him. Only after the last sign of his presence was gone did he say, “You can show yourself now,” he muttered.

A whirlpool of darkness spawned on nothing, as it had a thousand times before. It unnerved him as it had every one of those times. The man with glowing white eyes came out of it with a smile, as if stepping out of a carriage, and as soon as both of his feet had touched stone the darkness behind him disappeared. “Ah, it feels good to be back here,” Master Cycle said jovially.

Vance nodded. “I hope your wife is well.”

“Very much so, my prince. She thanks you for allowing me to go home while Von was gone.”

Allowing you? There is hardly anyone who can stop you when you decide to sneak out. “There was hardly a need to keep you here while Von was in Bosque, Master Cycle. Your job is to make him into a swordsman.”

“The Master of Stormkeep is also in charge of being its champion if necessary. What if someone challenged the castle while I was gone?” Master Cycle did not appear concerned about the possibility. “In any case, I have returned—just in time, it seems.”

“Did you do what I asked regarding that letter?” It would not do to send it by raven, lest it be intercepted, and he needed it sent fast. “I apologize for the inconvenience, Master, but your magic is the only one that could—”

Master Cycle held up his hand. “Hold on there, my prince. Let us make one thing very clear: I don’t use magic. This thing”—he gestured at where the portal had been—“is more like transportation. It’s like a horse or something. I don’t use magic. Don’t forget it!”

“I would never,” Vance acknowledged, raising an eyebrow. “Though I hope the day you accept a Heartbeat comes. You would be an asset to your house.”

“Remember our terms, my prince,” Master Cycle said, laughing. “I teach Von—you never question the portal or tell anyone about it.” And I can’t ask you to accept a Heartbeat, Vance thought, frowning. Most would kill for the chance. You are not from any noble house, Master Cycle, so why do you refuse it? But that was his choice, and he had been a phenomenal teacher for Von. It was not dark magic, and that was enough. “Ah, yes, my prince, I did deliver the letter.”

“Perfect.” Vance nodded, both to the man and to himself. “Her response should come soon.” Master Cycle’s loud sigh caused the prince to add, “Do you question my actions, Master?”

The man appeared to consider not his thought, but his response. In the end he shrugged and said, “I don’t like them,” in a rather plain voice.

“It concerns me that Von is becoming closer with the elf. As Second Lord, his marriage should secure our alliance with a southern princedom.” Even before he lost his memories, Von had been rather hard to control in that matter. He had many suitresses, but he refused them all. “He knows he cannot escape his duties, I am merely helping him along.”

Master Cycle was not impressed. “You would have a girl from a noble family seduce him and shame him into marriage? Not very noble of you, if you ask me.”

Of course he read the letter. A crime, but how was he to be punished when the existence of his magic went against all they knew? Vance clenched his fist. “It is good business for both. Alayne of Milvidas is the second daughter of a vassal family of the demons. Were she to remain in the Valley she would not accomplish much. Perhaps be married off to another minor vassal. Southern women are not strangers to strategic—”

“Piss on it,” Master Cycle told him. “I met the girl. She was not looking forward to any of that. Her mother nearly forced her, for the same reasons as you. Even in front of me she was nearly crying at the idea.” He grunted. “Maybe I’m getting old, but I do not like any plans that make young girls make that face. She’s not much older than my daughter.”

You have a daughter? But it was not the time to ask about that matter. Vance drew a deep breath. “Our duties are not often easy.”

“Easy for you to say. Who are you married to?”

He had not yet taken a wife. “You forget yourself, Master Cycle. You speak to your prince,” he told him harshly. “I ask not that the woman dishonors herself, but merely offer her my approval to visit and attempt to—”

“—Make Von trap himself in a marriage. The implication is quite clear, and if your words were not direct enough, I am certain her family’s will be. Poor girl, her family looked to be lacking in coin lately—but then again, I suppose you already knew that, eh? That’s why you asked the letter to be delivered to her specifically. Because anyone else of higher birth might reject the notion of having to court a Second Lord with no guarantees of acceptance.”

“Be my worst critic if you wish,” Vance barked out, “so long as you remain my ally. Do not tell Von, or else our dealings might come to an end.”

Master Cycle went on as if he hadn’t heard anything. “Why do you hate elves so much? I do not think the two have feelings for each other, personally, but even if that comes to pass—would it really trouble you so? It is clearly not a matter of human prejudice, as you have the intention of wedding your brother to a demon.”

“Von strolled into Bosque, defeated their champion, his elven friend killed one of their elders, his men robbed the place, and they left unharmed. Does that not tell you what sort of state they are in?” His voice was urgent. “Not to mention they do not have a system of nobility. Von might invoke some wrath from Stormeners for wedding a demon, yes, but we will also obtain favor from the Valley, and strengthen our trade with them. The wolves would not dream of attacking us when flanked by our allies. He marries an elf without a title, and what do we get? Unhappy subjects and no upside whatsoever!”

There was a pause. “Von’s happiness is an upside,” Master Cycle replied.

“I know,” Vance muttered in response. “Dammit, I know! Ideally, he will fall for the demon girl and be happy with her. If he were to come to me and say he loved the elven woman and could not bear to marry someone else…I do not know I could say no. He’s my little brother,” he cried out in exasperation. “I want him to be happy, certainly. But I am also Prince of the Storm and his relationships affect all our subjects. He is aware of that too. I would like to try everything I can first and foremost, Master.”

“Being a lord is troublesome, eh?” Master Cycle muttered. “You’ve got your heart in the right place...I think. But there is no easy answer out of this. I do see your dilemma.”

“If you see it, Master Cycle, then please remember your oath—you are not to tell Von about this.” Vance’s pleading was earnest and intense. “I ask you this not as your prince, but as a man who once crossed swords with you. Von himself is likely to see it my way once he thinks about it.”

Master Cycle considered this for a long time. “I give you my word. In the name of all that I hold dear, of my fallen comrades, of my comrades, I thereby swear this—I will not tell Von a single word about this, nor will I attempt to dissuade him from whatever decision he feels is necessary. Never have I broken an oath and not once will I ever. These lips of mine shall never betray your secrets to Von. Were I to ever be a person who breaks this vow, then the Storm Gods would see to it that I suffered a miserable death, stabbed in the heart and betrayed.”

Talla

“—Anyhow, the demon girl should be here within a few weeks,” Master Cycle said, “so I fully expect you and Von to be out of here before then, if you would like to avoid her.”

Talla’s eyes widened at the amount of information unloaded on her. “I—forgive me, I need a second to compose myself.” She rubbed her temples. Small wonder the Prince of the Storm had worried about this. They were just friends, though she understood his concern. At the same time, a part of her disliked the idea of him marrying someone for strategic reasons. Because I would like him to choose someone he is happy with, she told herself. It didn’t sound very convincing, but she forced herself to believe it. “How many weeks you think?”

“Twenty days from horseback to get to Stormhelm, but they are demons. They could finish the journey in about two weeks if they hurried, which they might. Perhaps less if they choose to walk to Hellport and sail here—mighty costly, though, and I do not think they can afford that. Do you think you will be ready to leave in two weeks?”

They could, but what would their justification be? “Right now, we plan on leaving for the Waterfalls in a month so Von and I would have enough time to prepare for the tournament in Dragon Tower. I suppose I can’t tell Von of the why, so convincing him to leave earlier might be—”

Master Cycle shook his head. “Oh, you are free to tell him anything. I’m the one who can’t.”

Mighty free with your vows, this one. But he had not technically broken them. “I suppose it would do him some good if he were to have more practice with the terrain,” she muttered. “Dragon Tower is a concrete tournament and he needs the points to qualify.”

“Aye, he does.” Master Cycle produced a parchment from his jacket, drawing a surprised look from her. “What?” he asked, almost offended. “I am a coach, I ought to know what my disciple’s ranking is—I check every two days.” How much gold does Stormkeep spend on ravens to satisfy your curiosity? “He is at #86 right now, at 757 points. He needs to be among the top 32 to qualify for even attempting Blade Valley once more.”

“Is he defending any points in Dragon Tower?” Talla asked.

Master Cycle shook his head. “No, he did not compete last season. Already had enough for Blade Valley. What about you, erm...” He seemed to struggle to remember the proper form of address for a moment, then shrugged, “Elven Talla lady, do you have any points to defend?”

“Aye. I made it to the quarter-finals of the last tournament.”

He nodded. “Dragon Tower is a Masters level tournament, worth 1000 points…so the quarter-finals are 360, yes?”

She nodded. “I am currently ranked at #16 with 2693 points. Right beneath me at #17 is Riley the Giant, at 2475 points, and at #18 the next one would be Fantasma, at 2015 points.” The two ran through the statistics in their head for a moment. Round 1 gave 10 points, so even if she lost at her earliest possibility, she would end at 2343 points, slightly behind Riley but ahead of Fantasma. “My qualification for Blade Valley—the preliminaries anyhow—is guaranteed. I would like to do well so that I am seeded well at the tournament. Regarding Von…”

Master Cycle knew what she wanted to say. “The current #32 holds 1301 points. He appears to be done with the season due to injury, however, so he would not be gaining any more than that.” Runner-up awarded you 600 points and winning awarded you 1000. If Von were to do so, he could gain direct entry into the tournament.”

And if he did well enough to make it to Top 48, he could still get through the last-chance qualifiers, although with his style that would be the same as dooming him to an early loss even if he made it into the tournament—he would be too tired to compete. “This will be tough,” Talla muttered. “Do you think he can make it?”

“Tournaments are funny,” Master Cycle muttered, “you never know who is going to win. It’s not just a matter of the strongest fencer besting the weaker one.” He held his breath, then said, “Lobo of the Noble Companions will be taking part in the tournament. It will be a matter of how much Von can improve until then.”

A sudden thought came over her. “Should we really have Von move away from here as soon as possible, then? He needs your guidance as much as he can get. Any extra day of training with you might make him stronger.”

“Be that as it may, do you not worry about the demon?”

She did. A few possibilities ran through her mind, then she discarded them, one by one, until she was left with the one she disliked the most. “I will speak to him,” she muttered. “He can make a decision. I won’t tell him how I found out.”

“Thank you. Ah, and Talla?”

“Yes?”

“Tell Von to come see me when he has time,” Master Cycle said. “I promised to tell him why he first wanted to become the greatest swordsman in the world. And though it might be hard to believe, I do keep my promises.”