Kingdom's Vice Series: Journey to Alleria ( #1 2014) #Wattys2015

Chapter Four: The Forgotten Tale, as Told by King Xertormei

The Forgotten Tale-as told my King Xertormei of Alleria

It was long ago when she told me. She had made her decision based on her conviction, not on her duty. Fredenya, my closest sister-kin, was always one for adventures into long lost lands and tales untold. She cared not for vanity, for she cared only for the things of the world that could secure happiness and safety. Immortality did not tempt her as it did me and others before us. It is a very splendid, yet dangerous thing, immortality. Though you obtain it, you lose the essence of who you were, and soul, I suppose is lost for a time. Some are lucky enough to regain it after their efforts are spent searching for it, others simply submit to their fate of isolation and eternity.

            It was her choice after all, to refuse her Oath and forfeit her right to immortality. She was no more an Olak, but had instead chosen the life of Meyn. I’m not sure I will ever truly understand her motives, but I hope that she made the right choice. Part of me knows she did. She fled to the only place she knew of—Bardhelm. After that, I did not hear from her. The sea did not deliver any messages with the wind’s aid, and so I forgot Fredenya and lived thirty-seven years without a mention of her name. But, just when I thought all hope of finding her was lost, the wind delivered me a final, grave message.

A name. Dunedine.

Dunedine was an Ivorian name, passed on from father to son, husband to wife, and mother to daughter. If the wind carried that name to me, it was a sign that Fredenya had adopted another name, a name that was not noble or pure. Dunedine meant swindler in the Tongue of Meyn. She had married a criminal. I cannot say such an action surprises me. For her to run away and allow herself to be married off to a man of no noble blood is not an uncommon expectation, considering she loathed Alleria enough. She cared not to stay for the sake of her kin; she only cared for herself. I had often doubted her feelings about staying in Alleria, but it seemed what had passed since her departure was proof enough.

Should I ever gaze upon the face of a Dunedine, I cannot be certain what kind of welcome I can extend, for I have come to resent the name already. The name stole my sister from me, and all chances of noble kin. The name echoes in my halls like a lingering nightmare. I will never be free of that name, ever. The name Dunedine will bring ill-will and nothing more. I wish no happiness, nor goodness upon them, for that name is as cursed as the soil on which they build their society.

If it means I must live a hundred years in solitude in order to prevent a cringe or chill at the name, so be it. I wish for nothing else.