Mortance: A Miscarriage of Hope

Angus Ⅸ

I rode alone into Esson on a borrowed steed under the light of two waning moons. It was not the heroic return I'd dreamed of when I set out, but that hardly mattered now. The two guards at the small northern gate seemed surprised to see anyone at this hour. One had to be roused by the other. I dismounted as I reached them.

"What business have you in-" one guard began.

"Save it," I snapped. "I'm Prince Angus Kingson."

The guards seemed taken aback for a brief moment. The one who'd spoken recovered first. "My condolences for your-"

"She ain't dead, you idiot," the other interrupted.

"She may as well be."

"I'll see that for myself," I announced. "Let me through."

"Of course, your highness."

Even at this hour, the streets couldn't be called empty. Few cared to notice me, though, and those few were quickly discouraged by the flash of Supremacy at my hip. I had not the time for anything less than what was most important. A tired horse carried me home towards the Castle of Kings.

Only one beggar persisted after I flashed my blade. "Ser knight, please," she begged. "My family, they're dying."

"I'm your prince, I've not time for you," I told the poor girl.

She paused in surprise. "I'm sorry," her voice was soft. "I was her handmaiden alongside Vanessa, she'll be needing you now."

"Where do you think I'm going?" I pulled away in irritation.

The girl let me go. "They didn't deserve this," she said to no one. "I'm so sorry..."

I rode on.

The shortest roads were not built for horses, and so I dismounted as I came closer to the gates. "Go rest," I told my nameless horse. He'd been riding for eight days now, and looked nearly dead from it. By most accounts, the Caldera, and Untot just beyond it, were at least a fortnight from Esson. "Thank you," I told the horse. He deserved it.

The guards at the castle gate were far more awake than those at the city gates. "Who're you?" one demanded. "What business have you here?"

I lowered the hood from my cloak and brushed the hair from my face. I'd barely tended to my appearance since Shali. The guards barely seemed to know me because of it. "Prince Angus Kingson," I told them. "Here to see my sister."

Half the guards went to their knees. "I'm sorry, your grace."

"Have you heard-?"

"No, and I won't be hearing anything about Aurora from your like," I told the guards. "Where is my father?"

"His grace is likely asleep at this hour."

"Where is my father?" I repeated more forcefully.

"I... I'll tell him you're here," the guard stammered and ran off.

"I will be in the great hall," I yelled after him.

The whole castle seemed dreary and empty now. It was hardly the mood I'd expect to return home to. The beginning of the end of the Thousand-Year War was upon us, Sacreon had won the Battle of Untot, I was home... but Aurora was as good as dead, if the guards were to be believed. I won, I thought. But she lost.

I pulled Supremacy from its scabbard and exercised my skill as I waited for my father. Torchlight caught on the blade, and I saw that it wasn't as sharp as before. The blade likely hadn't seen any real action like in Untot since long before it was last sharpened. It'll get much more use now, I thought. I'll make sure of it.