Chapter 5: Doom and Destiny
I’ve seen the map of Gaia when I was five years old and every inhabited town remained etched in my memory. Kingdom of Irenwell in the middle of the continent, the Empty Desert on the south, Southern and Northern Oceans on the west, Woods of the Fae Folk on the east and the Kingdom of Bastia on the north, separated by the Bordering City and Mount Aero.
And still, my brother deemed it necessary to walk me through each little town, pond and cottage in the entire known world.
I feigned a yawn, earning dissatisfied glances from both Bobrich and Danilo of Danth, who were, for some reason, a part of this geography class. Danilo’s presence did nothing except take my mind to naughty places. He was back in his leather gear, the one that complimented his muscles.
“Are we boring you?” Rodrig asked, interrupting my daydreaming.
“Oh, no, not at all. If you think delicacies of the Bordering City are the crucial part of this journey, go on.” I arched my eyebrow and leaned my elbows on the map in the middle of Rodrig’s table.
He sighed, “I want you to be prepared.”
I took his hand in mine and squeezed, “Just do what you do best, brother, give me Irenwell silver and I will figure out the rest.”
Rodrig shook off my hand and Danilo cut in, “Not a bad point, your Grace, although, we will have to exchange it for the northern money. But that can be done in Bastia.”
I snickered, “Give me three coins and we’ll have enough for the journey back. I might even buy myself a castle.”
No one found the joke particularly funny.
Bobrich cleared his throat, “Sir Danilo, could you please walk us through the journey once more?”
I grunted out loud and leaned against the wooden chair. Bobrich was an older fellow and my brother’s right hand. His grey moustache, round face and gentle, brown eyes turned him into a charming grandpa, but I knew he was way more cunning.
He was the type of a man who has found himself a position of power with the least consequences. The man behind the curtains. And now, he wished to voice his opinion.
“Certainly,” Danilo leaned over the map and Bobrich came closer, “We will pass through the Bordering City, because we simply do not have enough time to climb over Mount Aero, and buy herbal potions we might need for the journey. Then, we will go straight to the Kingdom of Bastia. There, we will meet up with the rest of the people joining us.”
This intrigued me, “And who might that be?”
Danilo’s blue eyes cut across the map straight to me, “Four capable men whose abilities are necessary for the journey.”
Bobrich’s head dropped seriously, “If I may repeat the Princess’s question, who might that be?”
Danilo seemed reluctant to share this piece of information, which filled me with both unease and interest. Why would he feel the need to hide the identities of our companions?
Rodrig noticed this, as well, “Sir Danilo, I need to know who is going to accompany my sister across the world.”
Danilo nodded, “Certainly, your Grace. There’s going to be six of us. Princess and me, two men you haven’t heard of, but whose abilities will make the trip easier, our guide and... a mage.”
Silence ensued. A tight grip around my heart reminded me of my magic problem. A mage was going to accompany us on this journey? Would he be able to sense me? If so, how would he react? What would he do?
Rodrig cleared his throat, “Who is this mage? How can you trust him?”
Danilo’s shoulders slumped, “This mage is the only mage in the known world who might be willing to help humankind.”
I caught the slipup, “Might be?”
Danilo took in a sharp breath, “He still hasn’t answered our letter.”
A bubbly laughter rolled off my lips. Rodrig leaned against his palm and Bobrich’s moustache shivered with anger.
“Perhaps your bird is broken.” I shrugged. “Have you tried sending a pigeon?”
Danilo’s blue eyes fell to the map, the expression on his face made me stop laughing, “We have no choice.” The three of us looked at him. “We might be underprepared. We might even be doomed. But we simply have no choice.”
Rodrig cleared his throat and the voice that came out belonged to a king, “There are a few towns by the coast beyond Bastia, you will have to stop and rest before you reach the mountains. After that, nothing you come across will be human.”
Danilo nodded, “We are aware.”
To my surprise, Rodrig looked at me, “Irina has a necklace, her mother’s, it’s made out of Fae emeralds. If it glows green, the people around you have good intentions. If it glows any other colour, run as fast as you can.”
“Ha, I didn’t know that.” I took the pendant and looked at the circular thing. I’ve never seen it glow any other colour besides green.
“Follow the Star of Orath,” Rodrig continued, “It will guide you.”
“I have a question.” Bobrich pitched and pointed at me, “The heir of Irenwell,” he pointed towards Danilo, “The heir of Bastia.” He spread out his hands, “And where is the heir of Orathia?”
Almost like he just remembered this crucial piece of information, Rodrig raised his head and glared at Danilo, “Orathians are mostly extinct. The royal line is most definitely extinct.”
Danilo sighed, “Not quite, your Grace. One member of Orathian royal bloodline is still very much alive and has already visited Orathia.”
I knew nothing of this. History books rarely mentioned what happened to Orathians that managed to cross the Frozen Sea and reach Bastian lands after the Kingdom fell.
Rodrig raised his eyebrow, “Who?”
“King Bernard’s bastard son.”
Rodrig’s eyes widened, “Bastard of Bastia? This is not a known fact.”
It wasn’t something one learned in the books, most certainly. This information was mostly product of gossip and word of mouth, told and retold on one’s way from Bastia to Irenwell. Gretchen told me about the Bastard of Bastia, a scorned man, bitter because he would never rule. But she never said his name, no one seemed to know his name.
Surely, because King Bernard kept his shame a secret.
“Well, we hadn’t known for a while that he even existed.” Danilo’s brows furrowed into an angry scowl. “King Bernard went out of his way to hide him. You might know him under a different name.”
This piqued my interest, “Is he, like, a famous assassin or something?”
Danilo spoke to my brother, “It’s Rixen of Orathia.”
My brother shook his head violently and got off his leather chair.
“No.” He kept on shaking his head, like a child throwing a tantrum. “No, no, no. Irina, you’re not going.”
I leaped off the chair, “What? No! I’m going.”
“No, you’re not.”
“Yes, I am!”
Bobrich interrupted our shouting contest, “Bastard of Bastia has Orathian royal blood in his veins? Are you certain?”
Danilo nodded, “We traced down his lineage.”
Bobrich let out a short laugh, “That is quite dangerous, a man with both Orathian and Bastian royal blood. I would worry if I were King Bernard.”
Rodrig shook his head, “No, I will not have you travelling with Rixen of Orathia. We all know the stories about him.”
Danilo tried to say something, but I shamelessly interrupted, “Stories? What stories?”
“Those should not concern you, your Grace.” Danilo cut in. “And Rixen is no threat, he has no right to the throne of Bastia.”
Bobrich chuckled, “I wouldn’t be so sure, boy, blood is a difficult thing to run from.”
Danilo’s gaze hardened, “King Bernard would never allow it, and neither would I.”
“I have to think about this.” Rodrig suddenly got up and stormed out of his chambers without another word in a very un-kingly manner. Bobrich hopped right after him. I dropped back into my chair and leaned against the backrest; a very un-princess-like sigh left my lips.
I looked over Danilo, “Do you see what I have to deal with?”
Danilo’s head dropped on the map, “We have no choice.”
“Why did he react like that?” I asked. “Who is this Rixen of Orathia?”
“A bitter scoundrel.” Danilo looked at me. “But a necessary bitter scoundrel, nonetheless. He’s our guide.”
“Wonderful.” I got up. “I will talk to my brother.”
And so I did. Finding him wasn’t hard. Bobrich begged in front of our parents’ bedroom to be let in. I shooed him away and knocked on the door.
“Rodrig?”
The door was unlocked so I simply walked in. The room was the same as they left it when they went to that unfortunate trip. The weather was quite nice that day. There weren’t supposed to be storms on their way to the Isles of Shira. Yet, they shipwrecked.
My mother’s dresses lay forgotten on the bed. Of course, she decided which to carry in the last minute. My father’s shaving knife was on the vanity. A lump formed in my throat.
Rodrig stared at the landscape above the table. My mother’s masterpiece. A beautiful landscape of Irenwell fields. I came closer.
“I can’t let them down.” His eyes were deeply wounded, some ignored sorrow surfaced. “And I feel like I’m letting them down.”
“You’re not.” I shook my head. “If anyone’s letting them down, it’s me.”
Rodrig smiled, “Mother would scold you forever, but father would laugh. He loved you the most.”
“They loved us the most.” I whispered. “They would have torn down kingdoms to protect us.”
“And they’d let the world end before letting you go to the world’s end.” Rodrig turned to me, his eyes gleaming with unshed tears. “So, how can I let you go?”
I shrugged, “Because they raised you to be a king. And you know a king has to make tough decisions.”
He opened the drawer in the bedtable and pulled out a small, silver sword. Rodrig handed the sword to me. Rubies and sapphires decorated the handle. The entire thing was feather light; I barely felt it in my hands.
“Mother’s sword.” Rodrig said. “It’s light and easy to use. Fae Folk made it.” A chuckle escaped his lips. “I’ve never met anyone even capable of talking to Fae, yet they loved mother.”
“Everybody loved her.” I still stared at the sword. “How do I use it?”
Rodrig breathed in through his teeth, “Aim for the kill. Ask Sir Danilo to teach you the basics while you’re travelling to Bastia.”
He took my free hand and squeezed it into a fist. The thumb went over all other fingers, “Hold your fist like this when you hit.” Then he pointed to the front of his neck. “Try to hit here. It will suffocate them and disable them. And, of course, the loins.”
The realness of the situation suddenly overwhelmed me. My decision wavered. This trip might have been too dangerous for my liking, after all.
But the Oracles have spoken. And despite their vagueness, they spoke rarely. Perhaps this was bigger than me, after all. Perhaps Rodrig was right and the world wasn’t necessarily spinning around me.
“Rodrig, who’s Rixen of Orathia?” I asked, still searching for an explanation to his previous tantrum.
He kept quiet for a moment and finally spoke, “I only know the stories. He was the leader of the group that plotted against the King of Bastia. They say he’s ruthless and extremely dangerous, a man solely after his own interests.”
Knocking on the door interrupted us. A maid brought in a young boy of twelve, with orange hair, hazel eyes and a face covered with freckles. Anger coloured his expression, but he’s been like that ever since he turned twelve.
Ira walked over to us, “Boris is teaching me how to fence, so make it quick.”
Rodrig smiled, “Irina is leaving for Orathia in a couple of days and I thought we could spend some time together.”
My younger brother’s eyes widened, “You’re going to Orathia? Why can’t I go to Orathia? I heard there are dragons. Can I have a dragon? I promise to feed it.”
“There are dragons?” I eyed Rodrig.
“There are no such things as dragons, Ira.” Rodrig sighed. “And you would forget to feed a cat.”
“I would not!” Ira complained. “I had a mouse and I fed it regularly until one of your squires lost it!”
My eyes travelled back to the light sword in my hand. Sunshine fell through the window, illuminating the crystals on the handle. Doom and destiny, two things starting with a letter D I preferred not to have in my life. And two things this journey promised.
If I just came clean and told my brother about the magic, he might find someone who could help me control-
No. I would have a target on my back forever. No one would let me live in peace. Not to mention those stupid visions.
If it meant going to the world’s end to get rid of it, I would.