𝕊𝕚𝕕𝕖𝕜𝕚𝕔𝕜

Chapter 1:

"Welcome back great saviour of Atlanta!" The big banner that hung in the castle's ball room seemed to announce along with the rambunctious cheering of the nobles . It was so crowded the entire aristocracy seemed to be there , which Caleb knew was impossible but still, there were so many people, a great deal of them had to stand or sit on windowsills. The king and queen themselves and their royal advisor sat at a high table overlooking the festivities.

The king was giving a speech of course he was, he thought internally rolling his eyes.They held passive faces but Caleb could see the proud look in their eyes, the ones their faces barely concealed. He sighed and with a smile slightly forced if not fully turned his head slightly to look at his mentor Sir Chance , knight and champion of Atlanta and dad's favourite he thought slight resentment sparking in his mind he quickly shook it off " get ahold of yourself." he murmured under his breath " your lucky he even considered taking you as his , many would kill to be in your shoes." He echoed his father's words. His father Sir Luwin was the royal advisor to the King and Queen which made him...

What exactly did it make him? He was jostled out of his thoughts when he felt a nudge from his right. Chance with one arm half resting on the table and slightly turned head, raised his eyebrow at him. He mildly shook his head and forced out a smile and shot him a thumbs up, that apparently was enough to convince Chance who turned his full attention back to the king's speech, he sighed in relief and turned his surveillance back to the crowd and the table, trying and failing to avoid his dad's scrutinising gaze , The king's words which and been a buzz in the background started flowing into his ears

" In the end we should not forget the horrible war of the past, but when we look back upon dark times, let us remember how we triumphed over it,"
he continued " Let it be warning to all those who try to interfere with our prosperity: Atlanta is here to stay and,"
his eyes drifting to Chance, " our brave hero Sir Chance, leader of the stormtroopers stands against any force of evil!"

The approving roar was so loud it actually knocked a man off the windowsill he sat on , Caleb winced in sympathy.
"All hail the king! All hail Sir Chance!" A man in the middle of the hall shouted.
"All hail the king!" The rest cheered with him "All hail Sir Chance!All hail Sir Chance!"
Chance got up from his seat and waved at them graciously, his grin so wide and pleasant. Caleb scowled and shuffled in his seat resisting the urge to punch him

" It wasn't all him," he thought bitterly. " So many men and women gave their lives so many people lost sons, brothers, daughters, sisters, fathers, mothers , friends all so he could get the credit? What about them? Where's their thanks? What about me?"
Rage surfaced momentarily blinding him until he gripped the sides of his seats, toes curling in his boots, teeth grinding harshly struggling to maintain a neutral expression he took a long gulp of air
" Breathe, just breathe" he thought, trying to calm himself.

Finally getting his expression under control he glanced over the hall trying to spot if anyone noticed his little... outburst. No, too busy celebrating the great hero's victory. Caleb straightened himself in his seat glancing at his father from the corner of his eye and saw him leaning over and talking to Sir Chance clearly sharing a joke from the way his father's lips twitched
" Laugh all you like now," he mused under his breath " you won't be doing it so often anymore."

The festivities continued late into the night Caleb excused himself claiming exhaustion , he hurried down the empty halls and quietly slipped into his room and sighed in relief, shrugging off his heavy ceremonial cloak he glanced around his room .

It was a mess.

His eyes squinted and mouth pulled into a straight line , papers were scattered here and there, battle plans he remembered vaguely, his desk practically overflowing from paperwork supposed to be done by Sir Chance ultimately given to him since the golden knight was too busy basking in the glory of battle unlike his appraintenace . He ground his teeth again.

He hated that word.

He straightened again and took a step backward , his back pressing to the door he took in his room simultaneously reviewing the last 5 months. He inhaled sharply.
5 months he had spent all his nights staying up reviewing battle plans, strategies, filling in all the paperwork , dealing with snide comments about Sir Chance from the courtiers the same ones who are now drinking to his health, dealing with barbed remarks from his father about pushing himself harder since Sir Chance was already under so much pressure fighting the war and whatnot, providing the rations for his armies and cavalry, stretching himself thin so that Sir Chance could focus on his task.

His only task.

The one he nearly failed if he hadn't convinced the mages in time, Atlanta would surely have fallen. And yet...
5 months of his effort wasted because in the end he was just the appraintenace and Sir Chance the hero.
He felt half mad with fury he had unlike Chance talked to his troops, the stormtroopers, it had been at that time a mere distraction after stretching himself so thin he needed some time away and in that attempt he had wandered into the area where the troops had pitched their tents, He had unintentionally bonded with them, listening to their tales of families , old parents , newlywed husbands and wives , little brothers and sisters , children both young and unborn, friends waiting for them back home.

It had been a mistake , he realised later on , to bond with the people who were meant to die and whose death letter he had to give out later , but he found that he didn't care.
The troopers seemed happy to talk to him, showing him portraits , relating incidents and introducing him around the camp he felt at peace, there he learnt of their troubles and tried to solve them to his own extent, this made him popular in the camp and not so much in the nobles eyes.
Mingling with the common folk, you'd think he had been walking amongst plague patients not the troops that were going to fight for their kingdom, with the way the nobles avoided him later , his father sending him a withering glare later but it was worth the soft, thankful glances he received from the troops after resolving the problems which were of no concern to the nobles but brought a huge difference in the camp.

Thousands and thousands of men and women had marched into battle after Chance only a hundred had returned. Caleb suppressed a sob that threatened to rack his body. Sliding down the door he hit the floor with a light thud, tears pooling in his eyes, he hastily wiped them and sniffed loudly to clear his head of emotions. He had realised when he saw the nobles and king welcome Sir Chance back without so much as a glance to the army he had lost that if he wanted justice , he was going to have to do something himself.

He whistled lightly and sat in the dark , after a moment his ears perked to the faint sound of wings flapping. A jet black raven landed gracefully on his windowsill peering round once it supposedly spotted Caleb , it gilded and landed onto the floor next to him.
Caleb reached around for the loose stone in the floor he knew was near him he found it and tugged it , it came out revealing a compartment containing four rolled up messages sealed with the raven crest, the seal he'd been assigned when he'd officially reached of age, reaching into the compartment, pulling them out and tying the messages to raven in one fluid motion.
"You know what to do, Peg." he said to the bird softly, pulling off his gloves and petting the bird, as it leaned into his touch preening , his fingertips glowed a soft green light.

The bird's eyes flashed green and it parted from his hand and flew out the window. Caleb pushed himself off the floor and towards the window peering out he looked towards the bird as it faded into a tiny speck in the sky and then to the celebration still ongoing on the castle grounds.
His face held a grim expression, " It's time for a change in power." inhaling the night air and shutting his window he prepared himself for events that were about to unfold.