Birthright: The Contested Seat

Kyran

Talia and Kyran stood steadfast at the bow of their vessel, their eyes fixed upon the approaching walls of Polarica. Their ship had veered off the river's course, venturing into a narrow canal that wound its way to the city's heart. The ship's formidable size compelled them to reduce their speed, for the canal proved too narrow for their grand vessel to traverse unimpeded.

Polarica, unlike any city Kyran had encountered, revealed itself before him. In his studies, he had come to learn that it stood as one of Ethios' ancient bastions, a haven of steadfast traditions upheld by its rulers, House Polany. Rather than yielding to the temptations of destruction and reconstruction, the Polany's had chosen to preserve and restore their heritage. The city, an amalgamation of weathered gray stones, harkened back to architectural styles that had graced the land ages ago. Yet, despite the passage of time, Polarica remained resplendent, as if untouched by the hand of years.

As their ship drew nearer, the portcullis in the towering wall before them began to rise, revealing the bustling docks just beyond. Kyran let out a sigh of relief, grateful that their long journey up the river was finally reaching its end. A whole week of repetitive travel had worn on him, and he longed for the excitement of being in a new place. While Galenport had been a welcoming home, he yearned to explore more of the land he was destined to rule.

As their ship drew nearer, the portcullis in the towering wall before them began to rise, revealing the bustling docks just beyond. Kyran let out a sigh of relief, grateful that their long journey up the river was finally reaching its end. A whole week of repetitive travel had worn on him, and he longed for the excitement of being in a new place. While Galenport had been a welcoming home, he yearned to explore more of the land he was destined to rule.

Talia, standing next to him, exuded anticipation, her fingers tapping restlessly on the bow of the ship. Kyran turned to her, diverting her attention from the imposing walls. "Are you nervous about what we might find?" he asked, his voice laced with concern.

"No, I'm just eager to be done with it. The uncertainty is killing me when the answers are so close. I wish this ship could move faster," Talia replied, her impatience evident in her tone.

"It won't be much longer now. Once we arrive, I'll talk to Lord Polany about getting us escorted to the records room. We'll find the answers we seek, don't worry," Kyran reassured her. He desperately hoped that Polarica held the key to unraveling the mysteries that had plagued Talia for far too long. She had spent enough time feeling like she didn't belong, like a ghost drifting aimlessly while life unfolded around her.

As their ship sailed triumphantly through the opened portcullis, the narrow canal expanded into a vast bay, revealing a panorama of maritime activity. Numerous smaller vessels were securely moored to the docks, but none compared in size and grandeur to theirs. Kyran's sharp gaze caught sight of Lord Polany, who stood at the docks accompanied by a man adorned in the customary gray robes of a sage. The sage was well into his forties and possessed the same fiery red hair as his lord.

"Lord Polany's sage also has red hair. He must be from Sarth as well," Kyran said to Talia, who seemed to have already spotted the man herself. He found solace in the prospect of being surrounded by Sarthians, for their presence would undoubtedly enrich their understanding of Sarth which would only serve to benefit their studies.

As the ship gracefully docked, their companions emerged from below deck, joining them on the upper levels. Gerta swiftly rallied the group, herding them together as the plank descended for their disembarkation. The scent of fish and salt permeated the air, reminiscent of Galenport, which offered Kyran a comforting familiarity and a sense of being closer to home.

"Your Grace, welcome to Polarica," Lord Polany greeted with a respectful bow. Kyran, donned in his practical travel leathers and a modest iron circlet in place of a gold one, couldn't help but feel far from the regal presence expected of a king. He felt Gerta's prompt jab in his back, a reminder to reciprocate the gesture.