Chapter Seven

Chapter Seven

King Thorvald Stormson was a towering figure. Standing just under seven feet tall and with broad shoulders to match, he was a colossus of a man. Supporting the black marble crown of Mountainfall was a full head of thick blonde shoulder-length hair that was just starting to streak with gray around his temple. The deep ocean blue eyes typical of the Stormson bloodline were sharp, yet unreadable. His face was clean-shaven, but already showing signs of the stubble that would only continue to darken throughout the day. He wore the colors of his house proudly, a red tunic with finely embellished gold trim at the collar and cuffs, which was only allowed to be worn by members of the royal family. His ever-present great sword, Tyr, was slung over his left hip to allow a smooth cross-draw with the right arm. Black leather pants with a red stripe edged in fine gold thread running down the sides of the pant legs disappeared into knee-high black leather boots, completing the visage of the awe-inspiring king.

Valsigian immediately dropped to a knee and bowed deeply at the waist, “Your Majesty, I’m so sorry to keep you waiting,” he said, the embarrassment clear in his voice. “I had no idea you were waiting here for me, my deepest apologies.” Keeping his head bowed, he observed the king’s reflection in the polished floor.

“Odd that Sergeant Dahl didn’t inform you that I was waiting for you here,” his voice a low rumbling thunder. “I sent him to find you when I left the citadel to make my way here,” he said as he cupped his chin with his right hand as if deep in thought. “I could swear I heard the two of you talking outside the chapel just a few moments ago.”

Valsigian suddenly remembered one of the last things Dayne said to him before he entered the chapel: “That was a dirty move, Val. You win this round, but I’m going to get you back for that one.” He silently cursed at himself for allowing Dayne to make him think he was victorious, when all along Dayne knew who was waiting for him in the chapel. “I swear, Dayne,” he thought to himself. “If I manage to get out of this one, I’ll let Asta know all of your best hiding spots!” He recovered from his silent revelation quickly, “I’m sorry, your Majesty, he did tell me, but in all of my mental preparation for this day, it must have slipped my mind.” He managed to sink a little lower on his knee and bow a little deeper.

King Stormson let him linger in his reverence a little longer before he told Valsigian to rise. Valsigian stood and straightened his posture, holding his shoulders back and head high despite the tension he felt coursing through every muscle in his body.

“You stand before me a squire on the eve of his knighthood.” The king looked him up and down approvingly. “I’ve watched you grow from the boy you were when your father, Aldric, died, to the man you have become now. He was one of the greatest First Knights this kingdom has ever known. I see much of your father in you. You flow through the forms like a man possessed. You can weave the Blessing more powerfully than most.” King Stormson began walking slowly around Valsigian, as if performing an inspection. “I see that you carry your father's sword,” he said approvingly. “It fits you well, and you wield it like your father is guiding your every movement through it. You have trained under the best Mountainfall has to offer, and by this time tomorrow, you will have taken your vows.” The king stopped his circling and turned to face him once again. He placed his hands on Valsigian’s shoulders. “You will soon stand among the other knights of Mountainfall.” The king's eyes were now focused squarely on his own. “I’m expecting much more from you than mere knighthood, Valsigian. Your father’s skills, intellect, and bravery set him apart from the others.” The king squeezed his shoulders before releasing them. “From everything I’ve witnessed and have been told, I expect that you will do the same.”

The king gestured to the awaiting bath. “I hope you don’t mind that I had your ceremonial bath drawn before you arrived. Aldric has a special fondness for extra hot water and a little extra scented oil.” Thorvald’s face momentarily took on a look of fond remembrance. “Did you know that your father and I were good friends?”

“Yes, your Majesty. He used to tell me tales of your adventures together when I was a boy, before he died.” Valsigian cast his eyes downward, trying to pull the last scraps of what his father looked like from his memory. “I’m sorry to say I don’t remember much of them. I was only eight when he died.”

The king gave a brief smile. “Those will be tales for another day. Today, you will participate in the rituals that all who have come before you have completed. The traditions date back even before Mountainfall was a kingdom.” His voice became more subtle and laden with humor. “Even I had to complete the vigil. I remember how incredibly hungry I was, as I had forgotten to eat before my vigil began.”

Valsigian’s stomach suddenly growled quite loudly as he had just realized that he had not eaten a thing yet today. Thorvald smiled more broadly at the sound. “Sounds like Sergeant Dahl’s message wasn’t the only thing you forgot today.”

“Sorry, your Majesty,” Valsigian replied. “The importance of the day does seem to have me a bit more forgetful.”

“Not to worry, lad,” the king nodded as if understanding completely. “I took the liberty of telling the stewards to bring you something before you enter the chapel proper. As I’m sure you are aware, no food or drink may pass your lips once your vigil begins.”

Valsigian puffed out a quick sigh of relief. “Thank you, Your Majesty. I’m sorry if I’ve disappointed you today.”

“On the contrary, Valsigian. I have been where you now stand. I remember the emotions, the uncertainty, and most of all… the hunger.” Thorvald chuckled as he cuffed Valsigian on the shoulder. “But, I do need to ask you about something else, a bit off topic.”

Valsigian froze; he could feel the shift in the king's demeanor. He immediately thought to himself, “He knows about Tove!” He tried not to let his sudden panic show on his face. He hoped he was hiding it well.

The king’s voice took on a much more serious tone. “I’ve noticed that my daughter Asta seems to have taken a liking to your friend.”

Valsigian let out a great breath of relief in his mind; he hoped it didn’t show on his face. “Dayne?”

“Yes,” Thorvald said. “My staff have been telling me that she has been seen trying to vie for more of his attention than would be appropriate.” The king folded his arms over his chest. “They have even told me that she enjoys flirting with him.”

Valsigian had to fight the urge to smirk. “I think 'flirting' might not be the best choice of words, Your Majesty. It’s more like tormenting.”

“Are you telling me that my daughter is the instigator in all of this?” he asked, eyebrows arched.

Valsigian exhaled slowly. “Your Majesty, with all due respect,” he chose his next words very carefully. “Dayne is doing his best to reject the advances of the princess. He would never do anything untoward, but it is difficult for him since he is her assigned protector.”

Thorvald studied Valsigian intently, saying nothing for an uncomfortably long time. Then suddenly, he let out a roaring laugh. “That would explain why the man looks like he’s allergic to his clothes every time she comes in the room.” As his laughter subsided, he maintained a small smile. “That poor man,” he said. “My daughter is quite headstrong, once she sets her sights on something, she wants it’s quite difficult to distract her.” His tone became more serious as he said, “She is, however, a princess, and Dayne holds no title other than Sergeant in my guard. If they were to take this too far…”

“Trust me, Your Majesty,” Valsigian said quickly. “He would never overstep his bounds. He may at times be every bit of the scoundrel he’s purported to be, but he takes his oaths and his duty as seriously as I do.”

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The king looked at him for a moment before nodding. “I do trust you. I know Sergeant Dahl is an honorable and loyal man.” He placed his hand on his chin again, rubbing the stubble he found there. “She is my daughter, though, I have to ensure that she doesn’t bring dishonor upon the throne by making bad decisions.”

“I can speak with him if you like,” Valsigian offered.

“No,” Thorvald said as he waved a hand in the air. “I will speak with Asta. I just wanted to confirm if the suspicions of my staff were true.” He gave Valsigian a grateful look. “Thank you for speaking true.” His gaze suddenly drifted over Valsigian’s shoulder to the small window behind him as if distracted by something.

Valsigian turned to follow the king’s gaze as he said, “Is there something wrong, your Majesty?” He saw the squared black body of something hovering just outside the window. It didn’t move like most inhabitants of the sky. It didn’t appear to have flapping wings like most birds or even insects, for that matter. It looked to have one large eye in the center of its mass, and it made a sound not too dissimilar from a dragonfly or hummingbird, but louder. It seemed to be almost motionless, like it was standing in the air somehow, studying them.

“Nothing really,” Thorvald said as he exhaled through his nose. “It’s another one of those strange birds.” He dismissively shrugged his shoulders. “It’s odd how they always seem to show up when something important is about to happen.”

“Has anybody ever caught one?” Valsigian asked.

The king shook his head. “Not that I’m aware of. Nobody even knows where they come from or where they go.” His voice was uninterested, “My guess is they are from the Mystic Mountains. And if that’s the case, it’s a mystery we'll never solve.”

Valsigian observed the strange bird suddenly zip away, disappearing into the sky. He felt a sense of wonder countered with trepidation. He believed Thorvald’s theory that the hovering birds, if they were birds, were from the forbidden mountains. He wondered what other strange inhabitants were hiding in the Mystic Mountains.

The king looked back at him, shaking off whatever thoughts he had been thinking. “I envy you, Valsigian. Your life is about to change forever. Once you take your vows, a whole new world of possibilities will be open to you. You will have a level of freedom, I wish I could have once again. But you will also be burdened with tremendous duty and responsibility.” Thorvald studied him for a moment. “Are you prepared for tomorrow, Sir Hunterson?”

Valsigian stood tall, like a rod of iron had replaced his spine. He gave the official salute of honor and respect to his king. Right hand formed into a fist, audibly striking the palm of his left hand held like a blade, and brought to his heart while bowing slightly, keeping his eyes locked on his king. The salute of not only Mountainfall, but the Order of Earth and Water. It symbolizes unwavering loyalty and a knight’s sacred vow. Only to be used in ceremonies or before taking an oath. It is a sign of the deepest respect and unity. “Yes, my king,” was the only response needed after such a perfectly executed salute.

Thorvald studied him for a moment longer. “Then go. Prepare yourself. Reflect on what it is to be a knight of the realm.” He clapped Valsigian on the shoulder once again, hard enough this time to make him stagger. “You’re father would be proud of you, Valsigian, of this, I am sure.” Thorvald headed for the door Valsigian had entered earlier. As he turned to close the doors to the bathing room, he gave a wink and said, “Don’t be thinking about Tove tonight, young man. Focus on what your future holds and ask Zerathis for guidance… and maybe a little forgiveness. I have first-hand knowledge that on nights like this, he listens.”

Valsigian felt his face go white as the king closed the doors. “How on Dricarro, could the king know about Tove? And why would he let it remain a secret?” His mind began to race, desperately trying to figure out how Thorvald would know. The only other people who knew about their secret were Tove and Dayne. They had been so careful, so secretive about every encounter. There was no way he could know. But he did. He knew for sure that Tove would never tell. He also knew for sure that Dayne would keep their secret as well. “How then? How could he possibly know?”

Valsigian continued to ponder while he began to disrobe for his ceremonial bath. He decided that there was no good answer. Not one that he was privy to anyway. The more he thought about what had just happened, the more his mind began to settle. “The king wasn’t angry with me. He didn’t threaten to expose us. If anything, it almost seemed like he approved.” As he began to slip into the steaming hot water, he decided not to worry about something that he no longer had control of. He would tell Tove the moment he had the opportunity to. Maybe she knew something more, maybe she had spoken to someone close to her. Perhaps she slipped and let her best friend, Leena Tarvuk, in the women’s barracks know about the two of them.

As the water reached his chest, enveloping him in what felt like the surface of the sun for a moment, he began to relax even more. The scented oils filled his nose, Lemongrass and Honeysuckle, the same smells from his encounter with Tove in the royal gardens earlier today. This was a confirmation of whether anything was; Thorvald knew their secret. The king knew, and he did nothing to prevent it, nothing to stop it. He must approve of the match and has decided to keep it a secret as well. He felt a great weight lifted from his shoulders at this revelation. He sank into the water up to his chin and surrendered to the heat. It penetrated deep into his body, soothing sore muscles, melting his tension, and warming his very soul. The world around him began to blur a little as his eyelids began to feel like lead weights, then nothingness. Beautiful, serene, peaceful… sleep.

He was standing near the top of a jagged peak. The wind swirling around him, howling in his ears. He spun to look around him, to determine where exactly he was. Off in the distance, he could barely make out the lights of a town or perhaps a city through some thin clouds. His vantage point was from very high in the mountains, and the lights looked very far away. As the clouds began to clear, he recognized the formation of lights, the massive walls. It was Mountainfall. He spun around again, looking to the peaks of the mountain range where he was. “These are the mystic Mountains! How did I get here? What am I doing here?” The last thing he could remember was dozing off in his ceremonial bath. “Was I drugged? Have I been kidnapped and taken to this forbidden place?”

Then he heard a voice, barely audible above the wind. He turned in the direction of the faint noise, and he saw her. A thin, old woman, dressed in rags and furs. Back hunched and disfigured, she fought to maintain her balance in the sheer force of the wind. The headscarf she wore was barely hanging on, her matted black hair swirled around her face, hiding her features from view. She was drawing something in the dirt with her walking stick as she desperately tried to grab his attention. He stepped closer to inspect the markings she was making on the ground. He desperately tried to hear her words, but the wind seemed to tear them from her mouth.

Valsigian looked at the symbols she had scratched into the ground. He recognized both of them. The first was the rune that symbolized the Order of Earth and Water, the second was the rune that symbolized the Order of Wind and Fire. He looked back up at the old woman, nodding fervently to let her know that he understood the runes. She tried to yell over the wind again, but this time his hearing was muffled, almost like he was underwater. The old woman pointed back to the ground and began frantically scrawling another rune over both of the existing ones, joining them together. It was a rune symbolizing addition, but when drawn over the other runes, it also meant convergence. He looked back at the old woman again, nodding his understanding.

The wind began to scream even more fiercely, as if it was purposely trying to interfere with what the old woman was trying to tell him. She dropped to her knees in an attempt to avoid being tossed around by the violent gale. She began clawing at the ground with her fingers, digging deep marks in the ground so that the wind could not sweep them away before he could see them. His vision began to swim, and he was now having an incredibly hard time breathing. The wind was so strong, it made him feel like he was drowning. He fell to his knees, clutching his hands around his neck, desperately trying to pull in a breath. Through his watery and now fading vision, he saw the last rune the old woman had dug into the dirt. There was no mistaking this rune; there was only one meaning… Prophecy. He struggled to look back up at the old woman as she put her hands on his chest. In that moment, there was absolute silence. The wind continued to rage around them, but there was no sound. The ferocity of the wind intensified at her touch, threatening to rip them apart. “Come to me, Valsigian Hunterson. Find me, and you will have the answers that you seek.” Before he could even attempt to answer her, she suddenly shoved him, harder than he would have thought possible.

Valsigian’s eyes shot open, and the world around him was liquid. He sat upright and broke the surface of the water. He grasped the sides of the white marble basin and quickly shoved himself to a standing position. Gasping for air while clearing the water and hair from his face, he quickly realized where he was. He was still in his ceremonial bath, still in the bathing room of the chapel. The water he was standing in was still warm, not hot as it had been. “What the hell was that!” he shouted. He looked around the room, and there was nobody else here. The room was exactly as it was when he had stepped into the bath.