Between the Veil and Crown

Arvek 15

Arvek and Masitof were careful not to speak to each other the entire morning. Cor and Lord Talith did their best to fill in the uncomfortable silence that the king and crown prince left; a challenge that the two were more than prepared to face. Talith did not seem to notice atmosphere, and Cor egged him on, making sure that he did not get the chance to notice.

Masitof would occasionally politely engage in the conversation, but it was evident that he was only half-listening. Arvek did not even bother to pretend to listen, his mind too preoccupied with the conversation of the previous day, and wondering how he could make sure that the king followed through on his promise.

Shortly after the years long breakfast, they headed out for the capitol. Masitof had taken care to leave a letter with Talith to send to the soldiers in the Veil in the view of Arvek, giving him a significant look as he did so.

At last, Arvek believed, he was able to settle the matter in his mind for some time, granting him the ability to focus on the potential future waiting for him on his return.

The prospect of a political marriage in and of itself was not something that concerned him that much. He had known from a young age that marriage as a prince was a political affair, and had always accepted that fact. It was most the concerns regarding ruling Phrompt as a result. Harlofelp had done its best to keep out of the affairs of the five northern kingdoms. Just as they were with Harlofelp, Phrompt was often on uneasy terms with the other kingdoms, and was prone to break out into battle with them. Arvek's education had given an overview of their history, but from what he could tell, it was a very complicated history that resulted equally complicated feelings with each generation.

Should the scenario Masitof imagined play out, Arvek would be more or less thrown into the middle of such complications, and expected to navigate not just Phrompt, but Harlofelp as well through the tumultuous political terrain.

But it was likely not to happen in the first place, Arvek secretly felt. His father might be optimistic, but it rather felt like something that Harlofelp would not reap the benefits of until generations later. At the last minute, Arvek felt certain that an heir to Phrompt's throne would arrive, and Harlofelp would be forced to wait. The king of Phrompt was no fool, after all.

During his consideration of this, and how he would handle such a task of ruling two kingdoms should it fall on him, he found that it was interrupted by what he had learned on his journey to Chester. The memories of the broken down towns, the mass graves . . . and unwillingly, the thought of the Veil being in worse shape than the royal family would like to have believed. They weighed more heavily on his mind than he would have liked.

He did not like the idea that such oversights existed in his own kingdom.

But an alliance with Phrompt would mitigate some of the issues, wouldn't it? It would at least render the mass graves useless. There would be no war, and there likely no plague coming to the kingdom.

All the same, they still remained in poor condition. That, and crime was so rampant in these parts that there was a well known organization called the Myst.

Though something within him told him that the Myst wasn't his concern. It was Talith's, and it was only his concern when it started impacting the rest of the kingdom. His concern should lie with the rest of the towns, ones without a noble watching over them and regulating them.

It was an issue he wanted to bring up with Masitof, but now was certainly not the time. Not while Masitof was still seething at Arvek's insistence he do something about Selim.

Which brought his thoughts back to the Veil. If those towns were in such poor condition, how bad was it that an old woman was desperate enough to kidnap a prince in order for the Veil to be freed?

Arvek had much time to consider all this. Masitof had chosen to go along the route that avoided the poorer towns of Harlofelp, and thus avoided the dirty, rundown inns Arvek and Cor had become somewhat accustomed to. Meals were consistent, and there was no traveling through the night. Everything was carefully planned to make sure that the king and his sons would be able to travel comfortably.

It was certainly not an unwelcome change, but it was certainly marred by Arvek's distance from his father. The entire trip, the two did no speak with each other directly. When they were not required to be in each other's company, they usually opted not to be. Cor, having readily accepted his reprimand from Masitof with no argument in his defense, remained in the king's good graces and took it upon himself to make sure the journey back was not quiet with only the sound of the horses' hooves to distract them.

It was usually inane chatter, and Arvek missed half of what he said during the trip. However, he did try to give some to Cor, not wanting to bring his brother into the rift between him and his father. Whatever Masitof's actions, Cor had no say in them, and if anything, Cor was the only sympathetic one to Arvek's cause.

Halfway through the trip, dragging a conversation out of either them became too much for even Cor, and he instead contented himself with observing the scenery around them or finding something to talk about with the guards.

It took them longer to arrive at the capitol than it took for the brothers to reach Chester. But looking at the spires of the castle, Arvek felt the journey had not been long enough for him to process everything, and that the stage of his life was happening all too quickly.

And not only was it just happening all too quickly, but everything that occurred on the quest, even the very thought of Selim being in danger, and needing help, seemed like nothing more than a very strange fever dream.

Something was closing on that very small part of his life, putting the final touches and flourishes as he entered the capitol. Finalizing all of it.

As they approached the castle, a growing sense of dread settled in Arvek's stomach. As the servants came to take care of the horses and anything else brought with them, he realized that dread was not a dread for what the future held.

It was from a fear that he had done all that for nothing. And in the course of a week's, or a month's, time, it would all be dismissed, ignored, and the forgotten- just an entry of a child's diary detailing an extremely mundane day.