An Angel Called Eternity

To Bet on Losing Dogs - Seventh II: The Mists of Spring

Seventh II: The Mists of Spring

The Fifteenth Day of the Third Moon, 873 AD.
Anaria, Western Teleytaios, Klironomea.

There was so much work to do. Not for them of course; they were but a seer, a mystic, and as such their work was far different to those around them. The Grandmaster was constantly training those knights less experienced than their seniors, and they knew for a fact that if they were to walk to the barracks they would see Marshal Crowe and the remaining Lieutenants of Teleytaios drilling the armsmen until they dropped.

Yes, life was extremely busy at the moment. However no-one was perhaps as busy as the crown prince himself. One look at Lykourgos told the seer everything they needed to know about exactly how much work he had to do, how much preparation went into a war. The young man looked tired, more so than they had so far seen him since they'd met. 'Stressed' didn't cover the look of complete and total exhaustion mixed with vague annoyance on his face; he looked as though he were one more ink blot away from shoving the paperwork into Rhema's hands and dooming them all.

There was a loud crashing noise from an antechamber connected to the council chamber, and a faint "I'm alright!" could be heard in a voice that sounded distinctly like the prince's younger brother. Seventh thought that if Lykourgos had sighed any harder he would have managed to eject his soul from his body.

"Angels preserve me, I forgot how much I hated this."

Seventh smiled apologetically at the prince.
"Surely there's an upside, your Grace?"

"Oh, there's an upside alright." The crown prince gestured towards a few opened messages on the table. "I get to go back to war soon."

Seventh stilled a moment, slightly concerned by how they were unable to tell whether or not Lykourgos was joking.

"That... doesn't sound like an upside."

His Grace huffed out a short and snarky laugh.
"You've never needed to run a kingdom in peacetime. There's only so many petty issues a man can take before he considers abdicating and founding a sellsword band in the east."

Lykourgos turned to look at them, a shrewd gaze being levelled at them which made the prince look a lot older than it should have.

"Why are you here, Seer? Well, I know that title isn't entirely true, but it fits our conversations all the same. I digress; normally it's hard to drag you away from my brother, and yet here you are whilst he's in there doing... Angels, I don't know if I want to know what he's doing in there. Not with the amount of crashing noises I can hear anyway."

They kept themselves silent for a little while, taking in the first part of what the crown prince had said. He knew that they weren't just a seer, weren't just some mystic or charlatan, and the only way he could know that was if he'd spoken to their kinsman already. They blinked behind their blindfold a few times as their mind caught up with them, realising that the eldest prince was still waiting for an answer.

"I was originally here in the council meeting to take down minutes, as I did under your brother. I haven't left because... well, you're still here and your brother is in the adjoined antechamber, your Grace."

Lykourgos nodded appraisingly at them, and Seventh could tell at once there was an idea flashing behind the eyes of the prince.

"I see. Well, in any case I'm not in immediate need of your services, however I would like to ask if you'll be joining myself and my brother when we do eventually march out to meet the foe? Rhema certainly seems rather fond of you, and from what I know and he has told me of you there is certainly a ruthless streak underneath your innocent exterior."