#Von Le'acard

[ahungeringknife]

Posting original stuff for the first time always feels like the top of a roller coaster just before the drop for me :,D Info links are all at the bottom

====+====

The Zealous Servant | 1 | No place like home

====+====

If not for the feeling of his stomach in his throat Spayar wouldn't have even noticed when they came in for a landing. Two rows ahead someone threw up in a bucket and he was glad they'd waited until they landed. The small cabin started smelling like vomit almost immediately and several of Spayar's old platoon-mates started giving the person a hard time. They thought flying was bad they wouldn't have lasted one week in their platoon!

Before it could get too rowdy or a fight break out the doors were opened and the two flighters who'd brought them here started directing everyone out. Spayar got up and was out the cabin quickly to get out into the open sky. He'd seen it was gray skies from the window in the cabin and now landing the clouds seemed even lower than usual. He went over to the waiting area for his luggage with the rest of the passengers. It was already covered for the year for the rain. On the landing pad the two wyrms were stretching their legs from the flight and one was already starting to curl up like a sleeping cat, its bristles and razor scales and spines laying flat so it looked like a smooth dull gray stone. Porters were running around the back of the cabin, a aerodynamic cylinder with a couple of portholes and two doors, unloading the luggage.

A man he'd served time with knocked shoulders with him, "So you coming back for more fun, Hillsman?" he asked.

"As delightful as losing my gag reflex was-" he paused when the he laughed "- I have other civil work to do."

The man nodded slowly. "That was a dumb question, Fanger," another platoons-man said to the older man. She was Spayar's age. "Spayar's d'aelar to the Prince. You're lucky the Prince didn't pull rank to pull him out sooner." Spayar grimaced. She didn't have to say it so loudly as now some normal passengers were looking at him. It was too early in the morning for him to have to look dignified. He did square out his shoulders at least.

"Right. Forgot that. You talk way too normal to fit in with those stuffy nobles," the man clapped Spayar on the shoulder hard.

It's almost like I'm educated and know when it's better to dumb myself down, Spayar thought but didn't say. "Have to bring them down to my level sometimes," he said with his best charming grin.

"Hillsman?" one of the porters called as they'd brought the luggage from the back. He slipped out from the man's grip and collected his luggage, a back pack and a small carry trunk. He saw the faded buoyancy weave on both items put on there before the flight to keep the weight down and just reconnected the threads. The bag and trunk immediately weighed a third of their normal weight. He picked up the trunk one handed after slinging the pack over his shoulder and walked off the landing platform and down to the post office below.

It was busy already at the Central Office but mostly of postal people, the odd flighter boredly waiting around for their daily trips, or the bustling blue dressed messengers. A few people already were in line to send their mail. He paid none of them any mind. He just wanted to get home.

There were taxis waiting outside the post office after an air travel landing. He just took the first one, a petty cab pulled by what looked like an ostrich if not for a face like a rat and lacking any feathers and was instead brown furred and covered in a smattering of black and dark brown spots. The driver sat astride it while Spayar loaded in. "Where to, fella?" the driver asked.

"Synnerstock street, number sixteen, out in Bellringer," Spayar said and gratefully sat in the taxi.

"Roger," and the driver urged the Pol'cobb forward and they were off at a good speed joining the mostly foot traffic of the city in downtown Assarus.

The trip out to Bellringer was not short and Spayar just leaned back in the taxi and watched the city fly by. He hadn't been home in two years while serving time but everything seemed more or less the same. He'd have to feed the birds as soon as he got a chance. He'd kept in touch with his friends and accomplices via letter or Seeing spell when he could manage but there were some things you didn't want to talk about over something like letters or spell that could be tracked or spied upon.

"Can we go through South Garden?" he asked the driver as they were leaving the downtown area and it looked like the driver was about to take the longer, if more scenic, route along Riverside and Tradesmen.

"Roger," the driver said and took a different street. Spayar thought South Garden was a pretty neighborhood too. Lots of hanging flower baskets or grow boxes in their windows but the cramped quarters of the houses prevented those who lived here from having proper gardens. The awnings here over the street were more colorful than the ones downtown and caused the light on Spayar's dark skin to cast it into different glows.

Entering Belringer was obvious as South Garden's streets were winding but Belringer had been laid out by strict city planners. The roads were neat and straight and there was more room for gardens for the homes, more breathing room for the inhabitants.

"Thirteen was it, fella?" the driver asked over his shoulder.

"Sixteen," Spayar corrected.

"Roger." The taxi came to a stop a few moments later. "This place?" the driver clarified.

"Roger," Spayar said and climbed out of the taxi. He pulled out his wallet and paid the driver and once he'd removed his luggage the driver kicked the pol'cobb off again and they were trundling down the street once more.

Spayar looked at the building he'd been left in front of. The front was a workshop and store front of his father's and behind was a large two story house with a large connected garden hidden by a high wooden fence. The front door was through the garden unless he wanted to pass through the shop front and he really didn't.

Much to his annoyance the garden door wasn't locked. He remembered always scolding his siblings about making sure the door was locked when they left or came home. He bet it was Duren, or maybe Anora. She was the more forgetful of the Hillsman siblings. But it benefited him today as he didn't have to fish his key out and entered the garden. It was full of late summer growth and early autumn sprouts, some tended to in neat rows and others left to grow more wild.

He locked the door as he headed for the front door. It also wasn't locked. He walked right in and Spayar was greeted by the smell of his mother's cooking from the kitchen where he heard her moving around and probably making a mess of things. She was a good cook if not a very tidy one. Spayar closed the door softly and went around to the three quartered walled kitchen. She didn't notice him at first.

At least he thought she didn't. "Duren you just had breakfast, lunch isn't for a while yet, go back to helping your father," she said in her sweet accented Feylian, not looking at him. Spayar smiled to himself. She thought he was his little brother. Spayar hoped he hadn't gotten as tall as Spayar was already.

"I would but Duren's not here," Spayar said giving his mother such a fright she nearly threw the spoon she was using to tend to whatever was on the stove.

Relora spun and let out a cry. Spayar grinned when his mother rushed over and gave him a great hug. She felt slight in his arms when he hugged her back. She was saying something excitedly in Dirnine but Spayar hated to admit he had trouble following. "Let me see you my sweet," she proclaimed in Feylian and stepped back to take his face in both her hands.

"Amma," he said with a tired smile looking at her. She was a dark skinned Dirinnan with a few freckles on the sides of her face and around her temples framing sea glass green eyes. Her forehead was high and her long black hair was pulled back in a neat single pleat and then pinned into bun on the top of her head. Specific scars decorated the middle of forehead of a vertical straight line and two lines curved against the straight parts. Spayar didn't know the meaning of the scars but his mother usually touched them when she prayed. She said something in Dirnine. "Amma, I forget," he complained.

That made her laugh. "You've only been gone two years, Junior," she said, her teeth white in her smile.

"I'm a dumb foolish boy though, amma," he whined.

"Oh, my poor foolish mazuk," she said and fondly patted his cheek. She kissed him on the cheeks and between the eyes. "You just arrived?"

"Yes. Took a flight from Fort Fetari here in the predawn."

She frowned, "Isn't that dangerous."

"Mail wyrms fly in the dark, amma, it was fine," he said hoping to alleviate some fear. "I want to get some sleep before lunch? Before I have to get to work," he sighed.

She laughed softly. "And you work so hard, Junior," she said gently. "But try to take a few days off hmm?"

"I'll see how long I can avoid the Prince then," he told her like a secret and she didn't look impressed by that at all knowing such a thing was impossible. "I'll get that nap in at least."

"Alright. I'll have Duren wake you for lunch," and she hugged him one more time. "You can tell us all about your time served over lunch."

"Sure," he tried not to groan. He would much rather forget it if he was honest.

She let him go and Spayar scooped his trunk back up and went upstairs. Down the hall his door was opposite his sister Calli's and he could hear her in her own room. He went into his own room. It was as he left it. Bed made, things organized and put away, everything filed where it was supposed to go. His bookshelf was orderly and his mother had come in here a few times to refresh the room as there was no dust and it didn't smell like old cleaning. Two windows let in mid morning light despite the curtains and made the room very bright. An old mobile of the solar system hung from the ceiling in the corner. He set the lightened trunk and back pack down and went over to mobile. Lightly he reached up and touched the fifth planet on the mobile and connected an old weave on it. He half expected it to have faded but was pleasantly surprised it was still there. He didn't know why. Tassa had made this weave and she was the strongest weaver he'd ever met.

While nothing about the room changed it got considerably darker in the room as the magic sprang into life over the windows as an invisible spider web, not allowing as much light in as before. Perfect for when you wanted to take a nap during the day or if you were hung over from the night before and the suns were just too much.

Spayar didn't even bother taking off any of his clothes except his boots, coat, and belt before face planting onto his bed with a groan.

He was woken by a small, dense, body throwing itself onto him. He started awake as arms wrapped around him. "De-de, time to wake up!" Duren cried at the top of his voice making Spayar's ears ring.

"I'm awake," Spayar said with all the affection one would have for a problematic isopod. It wasn't that he didn't love his baby brother he just did not love being jumped on.

"Amma said it was time for lunch," Duren said brightly.

"So I surmised," Spayar said and tried to sit up, impossible with a small child clinging to his waist. "Duren-- we can't go to lunch if you don't let me go."

"But I like hugging you," Duren said looking at him with the same green eyes their mother had. "I missed you."

Spayar softened despite his desire to be annoyed. Duren had gotten bigger since the last he'd seen him, both taller and wider. He had to be what, seven? Eight? He thought it was eight. Still chubbier than a normal eight year old with baby weight. He was cute so Spayar didn't mind. "Yeah but I'm hungry. Aren't you? Working with dad doesn't work up an appetite? I should tell him he's slacking-

"No! We work a lot," Duren insisted and climbed off Spayar. Spayar got up and didn't mind when Duren grabbed his hand. "You didn't come through the shop," he said as Spayar left his room, Duren in tow. He didn't hear Calli in her room and figured Anora was at school.

"Doo'suvf talks," was all Spayar said, speaking of their father. "And I wanted to come home and sleep."

"Hmph," Duren wasn't impressed and Spayar let go of his hand so they could walk down the stairs. Duren trundled down the steps two at a time, hopping off the final three steps, "Amma! I got Junior," he proclaimed.

"Duren I've told you not to jump from the higher steps," Relora scolded Duren who pouted at her, puffing up his cheeks and lips. "It's dangerous, you could hurt yourself."

"But I didn't amma," Duren said.

Spayar left his mother to scold Duren and wandered towards the dining room and-

Sitting next to his sister was someone very out of place in a family home of dark skinned Dirinnans. Or it would have been if Von hadn't spent most of their childhood sneaking out of the Palace to come have meals and sleepovers at Spayar's. "You," he pointed at Von sitting next to Calli.

They both whipped around at his voice. Von pointed right back. "You. What are you doing here?"

"I live here!" Spayar cried and Calli giggled into her hand. "What's your excuse?"

"I was in the area," Von said with that annoyingly handsome smile of his that made him like a sunbeam.

"Lemp's ball sack you were," Spayar said and sat across from Von at the table. Vondugard Le'Acard was Spayar's best friend and the most beautiful man he'd ever laid eyes on. All fair golden skin and hair with the most intensely cerulean eyes he'd ever seen. When he smiled he had dimples and wore his hair at a fashionable length around the top of his ears with a long front fringe that today he had pinned back with a gaudy silver unicorn rampart clip. Spayar didn't usually go for white guys but Von was an exception. As he was with everything. He was also a Crown Prince of the Alliance.

"He always comes and has lunch with us on Siscest," Calli said thoughtfully, rightfully snitching on him immediately.

"Since when?"

Calli just shrugged. "A while? Probably since your presence was missed in the Palace."

"I get no peace with the two of you together," Von said, hand to his forehead. Calli giggled. Calli looked a lot like Spayar but took more after their mother than their father with a high forehead, graceful nose and delicate hands. She was also lighter skinned than Spayar like their father. Spayar got Relora's nearly eggplant dark skin while Calli was simply a rich deep brown. They both also had their father's black eyes. Duren was the only one who'd gotten Relora's green eyes. She and Von were the same age and he was suddenly reminded that meant they've both start their own time served this year.

Duren joined them then, sitting next to Spayar and flopped his head on the table, thoroughly chastised by their mother. "You never mentioned you visited so often," Spayar said to Von.

"Was it so important? You know writing long letters bores me," he said dismissively. Calli giggled again.

"Yeah well I--!!" Spayar ended in a yelp when he was nearly lifted, seat and all, up into the air from behind. "Doo--im, stop," he complained to his father who had enveloped him and was kissing him on the face. How utterly embarrassing.

His father released him with a deep laugh and patted Spayar's shoulder hard. "You snuck around the side then, Junior?" he asked.

"I'd rather die than let your apprentices see you do that," Spayar said, deadpan. Spayar Senior was a handsome man with a shaved head and was growing his beard out for winter. Spayar knew his father could look incredibly intimidating but when he smiled, like now, it was utterly charming and disarming. He wore a sleeveless shirt that showed off his wide shoulders and strong arms covered in scars too imprecise to be anything but weapon wounds. Spayar looked a lot like him except Senior's face had a more firm jaw and a wider mouth. He was missing a few teeth but had replaced them with gold making his smile flashier than even Spayar's.

"Ah but it is my job to embarrass you as your father," Senior said with a charming smile that Spayar could mirror, his accent less pronounced than Relora's.

"At least wait until after lunch," Relora appeared with a pot of rice and Spayar perked up. He hadn't had rice while serving time.

Senior said something in Dirnine Spayar parsed out as something like 'yes, my beloved' and was more horrified at how bad his home language was just after two years serving time than he was at his parents being lovey dovey. Senior sat at the head of the table as Relora went back into the kitchen and brought out a full baked goose stuffed with grains and vegetables from the smell.

"Now where is Anora, school should have-

"Amma, dooim, I'm home!" the front door crashed open when the last Hillsman child came home from school for lunch hour.

"You come here willingly every week?" Spayar asked Von over the commotion of Relora sweeping over to Anora who was excitedly talking about school. Spayar had to put up with this because he loved his family but Von was the crown prince.

Von just smiled his beautiful smile. "It's much more fun than having lunch with my sister." For a moment his face turned brittle but only because Spayar knew what he was looking for.

"Which one? The idiot or the bitch-

"Oooh, de-de that's a bad word," Duren said next to him.

"Junior," Senior said like a warning even as he was carving the goose.

"It's not bad. It's just a grown up word and I'm a grown up now," Spayar said and stuck his tongue out at Duren who did the same to him, making an extra gross face as he did to make Spayar snicker.

Anora and Relora arrived at the table with Anora being a whirlwind of excited voice and hands. She was talking to Relora non-stop even as Relora got her into a chair. She looked a spitting image of their mother with a lower forehead and Senior's dark eyes and skin. Her long wavy hair was done in braided pigtails today. She was completely oblivious to Spayar and Von at the table as she started talking to Calli next. Senior put some goose and stuffing on Spayar's plate.

"Are you just staying for lunch?" Spayar asked Von while three other conversations were happening. It was a pretty typical meal for the household and for Dirinnans and cross talk was to be expected.

"We could hang out," Von said as he was served.

"I need to feed the birds," Spayar scooped some rice onto his plate.

"Right. I forget you do that."

"You talk to our friends?"

"Everyone's still alive if that's what you're asking."

"Tassa around?"

Von grimaced. "I dunno. You know she isn't fond of me."

"I think you underestimate her," Spayar said casually. "Is she?"

"I haven't seen her. We don't run in the same friend group."

Right, you two don't talk unless I'm around, Spayar thought with an internal sigh.

"-- Junior? Have you been here the entire time?" Anora suddenly asked him.

He looked at his little sister. Middle child with way too much energy. "Yes," he said patiently.

"And you just sat there!"

"You were talking to Calli- oof," he grunted when Anora hugged him tightly. "Uh-huh," Spayar said when Anora started talking to him rapidly about school and math. Spayar was the only one she could talk about math too since he was the only one in the family any good at it other than her. Not for the first time he reminded himself to talk to Senior about getting her an apprenticeship with an alchemist. She was old enough. He was only half following though as he scooped lunch into his mouth, giving indications he was listening. Anora rarely wanted a full conversation, she just wanted to tell you about what she was excited about and she was excited about many things.

Anora had him captive the rest of lunch and he half listened to everyone else's conversations while keeping up with her telling him about algebra. Calli and Von were having a pleasant conversation about Calli's new job she was starting this week at a watch maker, the last one she'd had at a florist had fallen through. Senior was talking across the entire table to Relora in Dirnine that Spayar was vaguely aware was about work. Senior was also talking to Duren about what they'd be doing after lunch.

He was so glad to be home.

Von was sitting on Spayar's bed while Spayar was digging through his carry trunk. The sounds of the city outside were dampened and even the light seemed faded and diffused in the room as the purple sun of the mobile glowed softly with magic. The room was effectively sealed from outside viewing, hearing, or scrying by all but the most powerful magic users. Von was leaned back casually on one hand waiting for Spayar to find what he was looking for.

"You really going to feed the birds today?" Von asked as Spayar found what he was looking for.

"Mom wanted to go shopping. I volunteered," Spayar said peeling back a final layer of clothes. It was a simple locked box about the length of his forearm that he picked up and put on his desk. There was no key hole or any sort of actual mechanism to open it, where a key hole would be just a solid piece of metal. To open a safe box like this you needed to be a mettalurgist. It just happened metal ran in the family. Needing no spell or weave Spayar smeared the solid iron down from the lock opening and released the lid from the bottom. He opened the box and pulled out a letter in a sealed envelope from among the items inside. The envelope was sealed with magic that would also make them explode should someone not the intended person open them. The intended person being Spayar himself.

He opened the envelope. "From Councilman Milo Theron," he said as he handed the paper inside to Von. He closed the safe box after.

"Who?" Von asked as he took the papers.

"Sinso's friend in Galinsum," Spayar said as Von unfolded the letter. "Councilman, very high up. Sinso was working on something in secret along with trying to figure out the perfect formulae to make someone vomit on command," he ended with a sigh as Von started reading.

"Sinso was your contact in the Arm, right?" Von clarified.

"Yes. If you asked him I was his little stooge," Spayar said as he put the safe box up on a shelf where it had gone before he'd served his time.

"You're so good at it though I'm not surprised," Von teased him and Spayar rolled his eyes. Von read the letter and his brows slowly furrowed seriously. Spayar sat in his desk chair while Von read the multiple page letter. "Hmm," Von said after a few minutes. "That sounds quite like treason if I was the Governor of Galinsum," he said casually.

"So he fits right in with us," Spayar said seriously.

"Who's the Governor there again? Remind me," Von said even as he read the letter again.

"Jengin Albera," Spayar recited dutifully.

"Right, the 'immortal alchemist'," Von said distractedly. "He's not Feylon is he?"

"No."

"Have we met him?"

"I don't believe personally. He does attend some of your mother's balls and galas though," Spayar said. "We've been introduced at the very least."

"Hmm," Von was very seriously reading the letter again. "Never thought I'd see proper war alchemy."

"It's potentially quite devastating," Spayar said.

"Have you seen it?"

"It was something Sinso was working on yes. Him and other alchemists serving in the arm, away from Galinsum and their pacifism."

"Can you get a message to Theo reliably?"

"He accepts mail."

"Is it screened?"

"He's a Councilman, I imagine not," Spayar said thoughtfully. Von got up from the bed and came to the desk. Spayar turned around and shuffled some papers out. "Ink or pencil?"

"Ink well," Von said and Spayar knew what he was going to do. If Spayar knew Von any less he'd think it was a gross over display of power but Von's entire family was a gross over display of magical ability. The tips of Von's fingers glowed orange and became sharpened like needles and Spayar watched him stitch together a weave in moments and a few complicated hand motions. Then Von put a glowing finger to the page and ink jumped out of the well directly onto the paper. Von didn't have to speak or even write it, the words were transcribed directly to the paper at the same speed as his thoughts. He'd seen Von do this enough times to not be overly impressed but the speed he could construct a well spoken letter was more impressive than the magic.

Von paused, lifting his finger from the paper, just to check something in the letter Theo had sent before putting it back down and finishing the letter. Then he tugged on a piece of the weave and it snapped closed into the perfect size to fit into an envelope. "I'll send it off when I go shopping," Spayar said looking for an envelope.

"Pay for expedited. I want it in his hands tomorrow morning," stepping away from the desk.

"Of course," Spayar said as he hand wrote the staffs of the address with a pen.

"If Theo is courting me what's the odds other Councilmen are courting my siblings?" Von asked quietly.

"Sinso made it sound like most Councilmen aren't interested in treason for personal gain."

"Then why is Theo?" Von said and looked at the letter again. "And why me?" he was particularly surprised by that one.

"You have a d'aelar," Spayar said throwing his arm around the back of his chair to turn and look at Von.

Von whipped around, blue eyes wide for a moment, and then he smiled slightly. "I do," he said smugly. "Don't remind Teldin," he added. Spayar laughed. "Was that all the work for today?"

"Yes," Spayar said standing, grabbing the envelope.

"Good," and Von used a spell to light the letter on fire. It burned to a crisp into ashes but didn't even mark his perfect hand.

"You made a mess in my room," he said, looking down at the ashes.

"You'll forgive me," Von said with a cute smile like he never thought Spayar wouldn't. And damnit if he wasn't right. I'd forgive you anything, Spayar thought and it was both fond and frustrated with him. "So, feed the birds?"

"You're coming?"

"Probably not. It bores me. And I'm sure my minders are missing me-

Spayar put his hand to the bridge of his nose, "Of course," he said, squeezing. Von just snickered. He raised his hand and disconnected the weave around the purple sun of the mobile and light and sound returned fully to the room.

"Now that you're back home we can start work properly," Von said even as Spayar brushed the ashes up to throw them away.

"Again," Spayar sighed grabbing his rain coat and hat for the low hanging clouds outside.

"Yes. Again," Von said with a smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. "I have ideas but I was waiting for you."

"Hopefully not on everything?" Spayar asked as they left his room.

"No. Just some big plays."

Calli's door opened as they were walking down the hall. "Junior," she called.

"Yeah?" he called back.

"You're going shopping for amma right?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm coming. Amma doesn't trust you not to take six years to do the shopping."

"I don't take six years," Spayar said with a slight roll of his eyes. But yes he did take longer to do the shopping only because he got the shopping done quickly and spent the rest of the day feeding the birds or people watching.

"Let me grab my coat," and she vanished back into her room.

"Still can't believe you came here every week to have lunch," Spayar mumbled to Von.

"Only for the cooking. I wouldn't bore your family with royal or court trivialities," Von said. "Even if Calli has raked me over the coals about it," he sighed.

"Why?"

"She has it in her mind-- ah Calli, is that the coat I got you?" Von asked, changing topics when Calli came out wearing a new rain coat of the sweetest pink color Spayar had ever seen, the outside shiny and waxed to keep the rain off.

Calli beamed even as she was pulling her long wavy hair up into a high tail. "Yes."

"You bought my sister a coat?"

"Seemed polite," Von shrugged.

"It was for National Day," Calli said quickly. National Day was a country wide holiday that marked the official first day the first Asuras, Sinou, had taken the throne almost two thousand years ago. It happened in high summer when the moon flowers bloomed along the Meltong. "He got Anora one too and Duren new rain boots."

"Didn't get me anything," Spayar complained.

"You were four provinces away," Von groaned. "What was I supposed to do?"

"I dunno, visit?" Spayar groused even as they headed down the stairs. Behind him Von was saying some groveling type of apology while Calli giggled. Spayar wasn't really upset but it was always a good time to tease Von. The prince needed it. "Mom, do you have your shopping list?" he called once down on the first floor, not quite sure where Relora was.

"It's on the table," her voice called from the sitting room.

Spayar scooped it up. "So you're coming," he pointed at Calli, "and what are you doing?" he pointed at Von.

"I'll find something to do. We're having a get together at Red Garter tonight, coming?"

"Maybe."

"Can I?" Calli asked.

"No," Spayar said immediately.

Calli rolled her eyes. "Why not?"

"Because it's a drug bar," Spayar said keeping his voice down so Relora didn't hear. He saw the tips of Calli's ears turn red. Unlike Spayar most of his siblings were quite sheltered and being raised by immigrants they didn't always have the same proclivities as typical Feylon. Especially at places like a bar. Also there would be boys there and Spayar couldn't get high or enjoy himself knowing some leech might touch his sister.

"I- fine," she huffed, cheeks puffing out slightly. She went and gathered up the shopping bags.

"Red Garter's not that bad," Von said quietly as they followed her.

"No," Spayar said again. "Unless you want to be the one keeping an eye on her?"

"What? No. She's your sister."

"Exactly. No."

"Will you two stop whispering and come on," Calli groaned. "The meteorologists said the rains were starting today."

"They say that every day starting the middle of J'dorr," Spayar said.

"And aren't they right?" Calli asked.

"Eh, sometimes," Spayar allowed and did follow Calli out. The clouds did seem much lower than earlier though so Spayar put the envelope into an inside pocket of his coat and put his hat on over his wavy hair.

"You didn't bring a rain coat Vondugard," Calli said as they stepped out from the porch and into the garden.

"Oh, I'll be fine," Von said cheerfully. "You know the rain doesn't bother me."

Calli just looked confused. "He's a warlock, Calli," Spayar said, unimpressed.

"So?" she blinked at them both even as a slight misting started to fall from the sky. She pulled up the hood of her rain coat. Von just once more coated his fingers in magic and made a complex weave. The rain began beading up on an invisible barrier he'd woven around himself. It was wide enough that any large enough drops didn't even touch him and just fell harmlessly off to the side.

Calli looked at Spayar, "You can't do that."

"I don't want to do that," Spayar huffed. "Show off," he told Von and headed for the street.

"Well what's the point of being Le'Acard if I can't show off sometimes?" Von said following after him. "And this is where I say farewell my Hillsman friends," he beamed all sunshine on a miserable day. Spayar hated his fool heart for fluttering. He'd known Von how many years and he still got all silly?

"Don't get into trouble," Spayar said.

"Me? I would never," and with a wave he walked off.

Spayar and Calli stood there for a moment watching him walk off, a spring in his step. "He's such a pain in the ass," Spayar declared and then turned and walked the other way. Calli laughed into her hand as she followed after Spayar.

====+====

Tag list: @full-on-sam @thegodsaredead

If you'd like to be pinged for this let me know. Replies or asks are fine. Reblogs would be wonderful and are encouraged. My ask box is open if you wanna know more~

ZS tag | Masterpost | References | Read it on AO3

[xaz-fr]

I will add links when I get access to a computer because mobile Tumblr hates letting you easily edit text lols. On this hell site? Very likely. But everything is in the #zs tag on my blog at the least until then.

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. But Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged like or reblog this post. In the wake of Tumblr going tits up its even more important to reblog works that you like. So please consider doing so.

@girllikewisdom @enjoythewolfs @asnakewithwingsisadragon @fyreeprince @ispyatobert @frxemriss @madamecoyote @leprechaunsean @xangelstearsx @golden-lionsnake @deadpool-scar-bro @starry-ampelope @kami-mint

DiSol is a good boy who really doesn't deserve the shit I eventually do to him lol. Also gods I love Tassa so much she's great and I'm glad she's got a bigger role in the rewrite :D

Spayar knew something was in his room as soon as he opened the door. It wasn't a feeling that something bad was going to happen, just that something was out of place. There were no candles or lamps lit and the shutters were drawn closed against the nearly constant autumn rain in Assarus so it was difficult to see but he was a mage and a warrior and knew when things were off. Something felt off now and the part of Spayar that wasn't that brave at all wanted to just step back and head back downstairs and get his dad to deal with it like he had when he was nine and made him check under the bed for mud rats- a mythical rat creature with golden eyes and slimy brown fur that crawled into your mouth at night to suffocate you. He couldn't though because he was nineteen and a grown ass man and fully capable. He hated being an adult.

He stepped into his room and kept his power close. Nothing happened. He looked around, squinting into the shadows but still saw nothing. He waited a moment before he was satisfied he was just being paranoid. He went over to one of the lamps on his dresser and turned it back up to illuminate the room when he felt something behind him.

Spayar didn't have time to react, "You're home!" a high pitched voice cried, nearly right in Spayar's ear and he flinched as he was tackled, first by one body, then by a second, and finally a third and he couldn't remain standing and they all fell to the floor in a heap.

"Ahg!" Spayar yelled and found his siblings crawling all over him and realized what had happened. They'd been waiting for him up here when they probably saw him in the shed checking in on his horse and then saying hello to their mother. "Get off!" he howled and his three siblings laughed and did no such thing, clinging to his neck and waist. "Mom!" he yelled.

"What?" she called from downstairs.

"Help!"

His siblings giggled as he struggled to sit up and he heard his mother coming up the stairs. A moment later she arrived in the doorway and laughed at what she saw, Calli, Anora and Duren all piled up on top of Spayar in the most uncomfortable position. "What are you three doing?" she asked them, a smile on her face, and put her hands on her hips.

"Spayar's home mama," Anora said cheerfully, she had her arms around Spayar's neck, head under his chin.

"Yes I can see that," Relora said with a smile, amused by her eldest son's predicament. "I think he'd like to be able to stand up though."

"I would, yes," Spayar gasped because Duren was laying on his stomach and for only eight Duren already had their father's thick frame and body and was heavy. His little siblings giggled but when Relora told them to get up they did. Duren and Calli helped to drag Spayar to his feet. He took stock of himself and made sure he wasn't hurt.

"You three let your brother have a moment, he just came back from the west," Relora said.

"Are you staying longer than last time Spayar?" Calli asked. Gods she looked even more grown up than when Spayar had seen her a few weeks ago. It might have been the clothes, which were fashionable and the way she wore her hair. Spayar could already foresee his father growling at all the suitors his little sister would have soon, especially with a brother like Spayar. At least if he stayed as important as he was. He may very well be dead in the next year.

"Something wrong sweetie?" his mom asked him. Thinking about the coup made his chest tight, made him stare death in the face. If Von was killed there was no way the Asuras would let him live. He was too close to Von, too loyal. He'd never bend on another Le'Acard. He was d'alaer. It would be Von, or no one.

"Yeah, sorry I was just thinking about something," he smiled a little. "And I will be staying until his royal highness comes back from his trip at the least.”

"Do you know how long that is?" she asked.

"No but hopefully longer," he shook his head, "though the rains will keep everyone inside for a while,” they always did at the start of fall when the Meltong Basin started its wet season which was its autumn, it petered off after Lugalsta in the beginning of Lun usually. "He's coming from the coast though so I should have plenty of time to slack off," he grinned.

"Yes," Duren looked up at Spayar in delight, "will you teach me how to ride Spayar?" he asked.

"Ride a horse?" Duren nodded eagerly. Spayar cocked his head at his brother. Common folk in Assarus didn't normally have horses, his family hadn't had one until Von had given Spayar his mare a few years ago. His father had built the shed next to the house for her when Spayar was home. "Why?"

"Because I want to," Duren said.

"Uh," he looked at his mother.

"He's been bothering your father about it," his mother said.

"He said if you said yes he'd give me time out of the forge to practice," Duren said seriously.

"If I have time," Spayar said and that seemed good enough for Duren. He announced he was going to tell their dad and wiggled through the door their mother was still standing in.

"C'mon you two, let your brother take a bath," Relora said and shepherded her daughters out of the bedroom, closing the door after them to give him some privacy.

Spayar sighed once he was gone and could finally put his things away. He turned on another one of the lamps as he pulled out his dirty laundry for cleaning and put his weapons and bag away. He didn't travel with much and was used to packing up and leaving quickly. He rolled his eyes at the thought of Von summoning him when they were younger to go hunting or to visit some friend of his outside of Assarus for a few days. He was taking off his leather jacket when he felt the wrongness again and stopped as he undid the first buckle near his throat and looked around his room again. Someone was still in here with him, not just his little sisters and brother.

"Who's there?" he asked, there was no answer, "I know you're there; show yourself I don't have time for games." He honestly wasn't expecting anyone, but giving voice to his paranoia made him feel better. So when a piece of shadow broke off from one of the high corners of his ceiling and fell to the floor with a soft thud Spayar froze and went cold. 

Spayar swallowed at what rose from the little puddle of darkness; a lonth. Lords of shadows they were all wizards or mages and lethal with any weapon including their hands. The Adoshade were one of the most southern houses in the Alliance before you hit the Kas’sca and incredibly small but powerful. This one in front of him wore his Shroud tight to his body, making his skin black and shiny like a bug's carapace, only his face and hair revealed. He was older than Spayar by only perhaps three years with nearly ruddy skin with black eyes and hair and looked like a Black Foot though removed some generations from the original people who lived within the lands of the LoHanJo'in province.

"Are you Spayar Hillsman junior?" the lonth asked, despite being from the coast like Peonia and the Garden which had similar accents that were quick, rolling and beautiful the Shade had a starkly different one that made them sound sort of slow. The Black Foot language was very meandering and since the Shade had come from the Black Foot their accent mimicked that.

"I am, who are you?” Spayar said.

"My name is DiSol Adoshade," they bowed a little to him, "Second son of LouSai, Shadow Lord." That made Spayar uneasy.

"What can I do for you DiSol?" Spayar asked keeping as calm as possible. Von said that the Adoshade had been quiet lately and killed anyone who came into their province, or at least any spies never returned. But it was the Adoshade, the Adoshade did not allow survivors to those they considered traitors.

"You are the d'alaer of Vondugard Le'Acard are you not?" he asked.

"I am."

"A worthy thing to give your life for then," and Spayar grabbed his power in case DiSol attacked him. DiSol didn't move towards him and Spayar realized that if DiSol had wanted to kill him he could have done it already or if he wanted to know Spayar wouldn't be able to stop him, lonths never let a target live.

"What do you want?"

“We need help and the Shadow Lord is dying,” he said.

"Excuse me?" dropping his power in pure shock. The Shadow Lord was dying?

"Virilia," the Asuras, "has sent my father threats if he does not cooperate. I'm sure you've heard we have closed the borders of our province to outsiders," Spayar nodded, "my father is very sick and has put my older brother in charge of defending DisAdo and keeping the house safe." Spayar knew DiSol's older brother, CoLan, nearly everyone in the Alliance knew him, they called him the Dawn Demon and he was a monster, the strongest lonth there had ever been. Ruthless and cunning without a good thing about him he was said to have no conscious and did his duty for the pleasure of the kill. "My brother is not a good leader," DiSol said and his Shroud retreated back from his body like seeping water revealing his gray mottled clothing, his Shroud becoming a cape behind him.

"I don't see why you need me."

"My brother has been killing Virilia's spies when they come and see what is going on in LoHanJo'in as well as anyone else who crosses from the Relua province into ours. I managed to convince him to let normal people to pass through unscathed but he doesn't like it. As I said, Virilia is sending my father threats, my brother sees them instead because he is acting Shadow Lord. He has gone into the Boggarts to find Black Foot to raise an army." Spayar paled, another house who wanted to raise an army. Black Foot used a type of magic that robbed people of their free will, they were puppet masters and if you had a band of Black Foot shamen in your army you could make the enemy dance for you. At least those were the stories. He hadn’t heard of an actual puppeteer in decades. "Virilia said that if we do not bend by the spring she will send an Arm to wipe us out and remind us that the Le'Acard rule the south, not the Adoshade and we will be an example to all the other houses."

"CoLan is gone now?" DiSol nodded, "Who is running DisAdo now?"

"With my brother gone, I am. My father sent me here to beg," he'd never heard of a lonth begging before. "My father says that a Le'Acard who managed to find themselves a d'alaer were good, better than most. The other princes or princesses couldn't help us, they wouldn't be able to move quickly enough. But His Highness Vondugard-" he seemed lost for words for a moment. "CoLan will be gone until spring, until then I am running DisAdo.”

"Vondugard has till then to move," Spayar said softly.

DiSol nodded, "When my brother returns he will set his army at the border of LoHanJo'in and wait for Virilia to move against him. If he does we will lose. We may win the battle but we will be crippled. Our harvests have been horrible this year, our resources will be tight on our people as it is, let alone needing to feed and supply my brother’s army. A small army of lonths can hold back one branch of the Alliance army but the Alliance is a bottomless well of people. Virilia will just find more people, send the other Arms. We will be crushed."

"I understand," Spayar said, nodding, thinking quickly. This was a lot to take in. He wasn't aware the situation with the Adoshade was quite so dire. And the bad harvests weren’t just effecting the central Alliance. Even somewhere as far away as LoHanJo’in was suffering, like a malevolent hand of a god was pressed across the land. He needed to find out what other provinces would also suffer a food shortage this year once the harvest was brought in. One thing at a time though. He needed to focus on DiSol and making sure he could handle what was needed there. "Can you promise Vondugard lonths when it is time?"

"I will give you as many as you want. The Shade need a new Asuras. We will not exist past the spring if Virilia remains where she is."

"Why didn't you just go to Vondugard himself with this?"

“Spies follow him everywhere. I am good, but I'm not invisible. And we know you have his ear. We know you will speak for him." Spayar came up short on that. He did? Since when? "Do we have his Highness' help?"

"Yes," Spayar said, "You do.” If they were going to die in the Conflict might as well try to come out on top first. “We will move as soon as we can. Try to stall your brother, the Asuras' furies are short lived she may not send an army to you. But if what you're telling me comes to pass you're saying we have till the end of winter to prepare," DiSol nodded. "What about your father?"

"He's sick."

"With what?"

"We don't know, and we don't know if he'll get better soon. It may be a long illness," DiSol frowned. "He sees the error of putting my brother in command, but he's too sick for his orders to remove CoLan to be taken seriously. My brother just says our father is sick and doesn't know what he's saying."

"He's really a demon," Spayar said.

DiSol smiled a little, fractured, smile, "It's why they call him the Dawn Demon," he said.

"Return to DisAdo and tell your father Vondugard will help you. I also want to send a healer with you to look at your father."

"We have some of the best-

"It wasn't a request," Spayar said, "I know if my father was sick I'd want all the help I could get."

DiSol looked up at Spayar with grateful eyes, he bowed a little, "Thank you Hillsman," he said.

"Also tell your father that when he's better he must ensure that your brother can never take the Seat of Shadows," Spayar said. "I don't care how but the Dawn Demon is too volatile to be Shadow Lord."

"I agree," DiSol said.

"That is the price for the prince's help, that his eldest son can never become Shadow Lord."

"A price he will be willing to pay," DiSol said.

"Give me a day to find my healer friend, she will go with you back to DisAdo and see to your father."

"You're too kind. I will give you to the ninth morning bell tomorrow," DiSol said and Spayar nodded. "Thank you Hillsman," he said again.

"Make sure the Shade are ready to move in the spring."

"We will be, I promise," and his Shroud once again wrapped around his body, turning him into a black insect and then it covered his face, only his black eyes visible. He bowed to Spayar and then went to the window and eased the shutters open. DiSol climbed onto the sill and instead of dropping like Spayar expected DiSol stood up and climbed onto the roof, a black tendril of his Shroud snaking down and closing the shutters, locking them behind him. Spayar shuttered.

He stood there a few moments, looking at the shutters before everything seemed accelerated. He needed to get another letter out to Galinsum to Sinso that whatever progress he'd made on those grenados needed to happen faster. There was an accelerated time table. He jotted it down, folded it and shoved it into an envelope to take to the post office. This needed wyrm postage. It needed to get to Galinsum now. 

And he had to go see Mali, convince her to leave with DiSol and make the Shadow Lord well. And this was on top of all the other things he needed to get done in the time between Von returning from the gut, hopefully with good news about X’vazior at the least and hopefully others as well. What he needed was for Tassa to be home. He needed her.

He sealed the envelope with his personal mark and then spelled it so that if anyone but the intended recipient opened it it would burst into flames. He added an extra weave under that one so that if someone touched the top weave to investigate it that weave would trigger anyway. He rebuckled his leather jacket and grabbing the letter went back downstairs.

"Spayar where are you going?" his mother called as he grabbed his hat from the rack by the door

"Post office, then to see a friend, be right back," Spayar said, tucking the letter inside his jacket's breast pocket.

“Will you be back for dinner?”

“Yes,” Spayar said, looking at her through the window in the wall between the kitchen and the dining room. He could smell the wonderful food she was preparing.

"Is everything all right?" she asked, standing a bit more in view, the ceremonial scars on her forehead nearly touching from her furrowed brown.

He looked at her and frowned. He'd just cut his own life nearly in half with his agreement to help the Adohade. Before he'd had a year till the coup. With his declaration to help the Adohade he'd shortened it to just a few months. "No," he said and then turned and walked out the side door. Outside it was raining and Spayar put his wide, waterproof, hat on and walked off into the storm.

—

The rain during the fall was nearly constant in the Meltong Basin, and of course that was exactly where the winter capital was located, at the center of the Alliance. Spayar was watching the rain outside and people rush around under the awnings lining the sidewalks, or hunched over on horses or buggies. In the house it was warm and dry.

Mali was in the kitchen with his mother and he could hear the two of them talking, but wasn’t paying attention to their words. The sun had risen two bells ago but the sunlight was wane, wet, and gray. He was waiting for the ninth morning bell when DiSol would show himself and he and Mali would return to the LoHanJo'in province and DisAdo

He looked over when someone sat next to him, it was Calli. His perfect, proper, sixteen year old sister with more sense in her head than just about anyone Spayar knew. She was wearing a morning gown that came to her knees and had little yellow horses embroidered on it. She looked like she'd just woken up but yet was alert and keen. "Good morning," he said.

"Morning," she yawned a little, putting her hand over her mouth. "You're up early. Usually when his highness is away you sleep in."

"Busy," Spayar said, leaning against the arm of the chair. "Can't sleep now," literally. He'd tossed and turned all night and had dreams of a red eyed necromancer standing over his grave reading from the Red Book to summon a necrell that would take his soul to the Shadowed Lands. He hadn't been able to sleep after that nightmare.

"Busy with what?"

"It doesn't matter to you," he waved her inquiry away.

"Why, cause I'm a girl?" she asked.

He looked at her and laughed in her face, "Calli, I would never be so stupid as to keep a matter away from someone for as trivial a thing as gender. It doesn't matter to you because it literally has no bearing on your life if you know, and is better if you didn't know anyway."

"Why?"

"Because your brother is doing a very bad thing," he said softly looking away.

"Which is?"

He gave her a look, "If you're lucky you won't ever know," he said and looked back out the window. He could see the big bell tower from here, through the rain, its face illuminated from the inside, and knew it was close to the ninth bell.

"Spayar," Calli asked after a few minutes. He 'hmm'd at her. "Will you introduce me to some nobles?"

"Why would you want to do that?" though he didn't look at her.

"Because I want an interesting, wealthy, husband," and Spayar looked at her so fast he nearly gave himself whiplash.

"What?" he squeaked.

"I said-

"I know what you said," he waved her words away impatiently. "Calli, you're sixteen, and a commoner. You aren't obligated to marry," he reminded her.

"I know, but I will marry someone, someday."

"And you're sure you'll have a husband?" he challenged.

Calli came up short, she hadn't thought of that. Her brother would never have a wife like Duren probably would. He would never have children either. She thought about the implications of her sexuality for a moment, mulled them over and then said, "Yes, I will have a husband. I like boys, you're a good role model for liking boys," she smiled at him and he smacked her knee playfully, making her giggle. "And I want a good one. A courageous, handsome, wealthy, noble, husband," she said.

"Heh, well I can tell you bidi, those types of men are few and far between. Also why would you want a noble?"

"Because I never want to worry if something happens to us," Calli said. "Mama is always worried about you and I'm old enough to realize that if something happened to you..." she bit her lips, "dooim might not get as much business." He knew what she was saying. If he died in a coup, fighting against someone who beat Von, he'd be a traitor, and his family would be cast in that shadow. No one would want what his father made.

"Nothing is going to happen to me," Spayar promised. "And you don't want a noble husband. Nobles are awful. Trust me, I know plenty."

"But what about you?"

"What about me?"

She blinked and knew she needed to proceed carefully. She licked her lips before saying, "Aren't you in love with a noble?"

"What? No,” he scoffed

"So you're not in love with the prince?" and Spayar's face went slack and he flushed brilliantly, the color probably showing a bit on his dark skin. She smiled a little, "You have no room to talk about wanting a noble husband," she said.

He scowled at her, "It is a completely different situation. Vondugard is my best friend and my prince, of course I love him."

"You know what I mean."

"You're completely delusional," he waved her off. "And you don't want a stupid, prideful, noble for a husband. You're sixteen, and too young and good for most of them."

"I won't know unless I meet them though will I?" she asked.

"No," he said sternly.

"At least let me come to her highness' Talalsalla's naming day party this year," she begged. “Please,” she put both hands over her heart in a begging fashion. “I promise I’ll be good.”

He huffed through his nose and puffed his cheeks out a bit. She gave him her best doe eyes. "Fine," he grunted and rolled his eyes a bit.

She got out of the chair and hugged him tightly, "Thank you. Thank you,” and then kissed him on both cheeks and between the eyes.

"Yeah yeah," and the clock started to ring. Nine bells. "Now I need to go do stuff," he pushed her off gently and stood. "Mali," he called and went to the kitchen. His mother and Mali were in there standing at the kitchen table. Relora was packing Mali a bag of food while Mali tried to say she didn't need it but Relora just shushed her and packed it anyway. Spayar's eyes went to the window as the shutter eased itself open and a dark, man shaped, mass slipped into the kitchen. If Spayar hadn't been looking at the window he'd have missed it and it would be as if DiSol had just appeared.

"Having fun?" Spayar asked them.

"Your mother is too kind," Mali said, slightly beside herself.

"Nonsense. We're having a bad harvest this year and I doubt you'll be able to get as good of food as this elsewhere,” Relora said kindly. “And Dirinnan food is made to put meat on those bones,” and she patted Mali’s belly with all the gentle love a mother could muster.

“Relora-

“I insist,” Relora said firmly.

Mali sighed a bit theatrically. “Fine. Is he here?" Mali asked turning to Spayar. Spayar had told her why she was going to LoHanJo'in and why it was important she make LouSai well as soon as possible. She'd been very against it at first but like always he convinced her. It wasn't good having a soft heart around Spayar, he'd abuse if for all he could and despite her hard exterior Mali had a very soft heart. 

"I am," and Mali and Relora both turned when DiSol spoke, standing behind them. Thankfully he wasn't wearing his Shroud over him, so he looked rather normal. "This is the healer you spoke of?" he asked Spayar, looking at Mali.

"Yes, this is Mali Thralluk," he said, "Mali, this is DiSol Adoshade."

"Never met a lonth before," she looked him up and down, "I expected them to be taller." DiSol frowned at her but didn't take the bait. Mali turned back to Relora, "Thank you so much Relora, you're too good to me."

"Of course dear. Any friend of Spayar's is always welcome at our home and table."

“We should leave, before the rain gets worse,” DiSol said emotionlessly.

”Right, c’mon,” he nodded to Mali and DiSol and they followed him out of the kitchen. Despite just being out in the rain DiSol wasn't wet so he didn't have to worry about the lonth tracking water into the house. They left the house and stood under the second story overhang that looked out onto the side yard. While he'd been gone his mother had picked some of the produce and that made him nervous. Usually she only picked the produce when there was a fear of it wilting or being washed away by the rains. She'd picked it early. "Mali is aware of the situation," he told DiSol, who nodded, "while she's there she'll be acting as Vondugard's voice."

"Does she have the same authority as you?" DiSol asked.

Mali and Spayar looked at one another. Neither of them kidded themselves in who was higher, who held more weight and authority, "No," he said. "But if she promises something for Vondugard it's likely to be carried out," he gave Mali a look to make sure she knew not to fuck it up. He trusted her though, After Tassa and Von Mali was one of his oldest friends, even if they hadn’t started on perhaps the most honest of terms. “She knows what to do, do you?"

"When we return to LoHanJo'in I'll keep my brother occupied and away from DisAdo for as long as I can."

"I'll send the summons for aid through Mali. You march on her say," DiSol looked at her and then nodded slowly. "Good," Spayar wracked his brain, what else could he do? Not much. He'd done everything he could really. "Safe journey," he kissed Mali on her cheeks and between her eyes, "Make the Shadow Lord well," he ordered.

"He'll be skipping through fields of flowers in no time," she promised him with a smile.

"I'll hold you to that.”

"Let's go," DiSol said seriously, "I've already been away from LoHanJo'in long enough. I need to get back."

"Goodbye Spayar," Mali said.

"Keep her safe," Spayar said sternly as he saw the two to the high walled fence, rain splattering across Spayar’s head. Mali's horse was in the shed with his own mare and she went to get it.

"You have my word," DiSol said, "no harm will come to her."

"I can take care of myself," Mali said, “I did my time, remember?” she gave him a look.

"Just let me worry a little," Spayar half pleaded.

She grinned, "We'll see you in spring," and DiSol drew his Shroud over his body and face as Mali put on her wide hat, mounted her horse and entered the rain again trotting out to the road, her horse seemed miserable. She waved and then turned the corner onto the road and was out of sight. A half moment later Spayar saw a black shadow streak after her. Spayar frowned after them. There was nothing he could do now. He'd done all he could. He closed the door and went back inside.

—

It was drizzling miserably while Spayar walked down the road bundled against the wet, his wide hat casting rain over his shoulder in a sick dribble. It never got cold in Assarus but it did get chilly and fall had come with a vengeance, dumping feet of rain in short order with the promise of more. It was expected in Assarus even this early in the fall. Asurala  had started now and they had five weeks of miserable rain until it petered out in Neyjarra and finally stopped in Lun save for the normal rain storm until spring started and the Meltong flooded from the snow out west in the Spine melting.

He was in the middle of Uptown close to the mouth of the lake that the city surrounded. Tassa’s apartment was around here. Her father had bought it for her. Part to give her independence and part to get her to stop having sex all over his house. Spayar liked Kenna, he was nice, if having the personality of a mouse. He had always struggled to keep Tassa in line. Spayar didn't know where Tassa got it.

He was grateful to get out of the drizzle as he stepped into the foyer of a nice building. It was warm and dry inside with a guard desk who's main duty was to protect the mail slots along the front of the desk, keep any large packages, and call the actual guards should there be any need. Spayar shook himself just a bit on the mat inside the door to get the worst of the water off before stepping into the shiny wooden floors.

“Hello, can I help you?” the desk guard asked.

“Is Tassa Peony home?” he asked.

“I didn't see her leave this morning and the night guard didn't give any indication she hadn't been in all night.”

“Great,” Spayar said and signed his name on the guestbook. “I’m a friend,” he added.

“The young miss has lots of those,” the guard eyed him.

“No like actually,” Spayar chuckled and left the desk without saying much else.

Tassa had a ground floor apartment with a front porch onto the courtyard the building surrounded. As he got near he passed through the gentle cobwebs of a magical weave Tassa had coccooned the entrance of her home in. She might have been the daughter of a noble but that didn't mean the guards wouldn't have a good reason to arrest her. A bored mind and quick hands tended to get that sort of negative attention that would warrant such a weave. Spayar just coated his fingers in magic and gently pushed aside the ornately constructed threads that looked a lot like a larger and more complex version of the one on the back of his bedroom door. He just didn't need them touching him. Had he not been looking through magic he wouldn't have even seen it much less felt it.

He knocked inside the pocket free of magic right against the door. He made sure to knock loudly. Tassa came to the door after a solid minute of him knocking wearing a shift that was barely hanging off one shoulder her hair more disrupted than simple bed head would do. “Spayar?” she squinted at him. “What are you doing here at this hour?”

He looked at the clock on the post in the center of the courtyard, “It’s chems, Tassa,” he said.

“What? Chems?” she grumbled a little, “I stayed up too late.”

“Yes. May I come in, we need to talk.”

“Sure. I'll make something,” she yawned and waved him in.

Tassa’s apartment was as though a storm had ripped through it. It was one bedroom and bath and a living room and things lay in disarray all over. Papers and dishes were arranged hazardously on flat surfaces, brushes and makeup products lay scattered across tables and the floor. The couch looked more like a bed and a large pipe was leaned up against the wall. Spayar didn't mention any of it and just joined Tassa in her tiny kitchen where she was carelessly etching a weave in the air with magic coated fingers. The heat ring started glowing almost instantly. She put a pot from above on it and fingers still coated in magic connected two pieces of a larger weave together that caused the sink faucet to open and water to pour directly from it into the pot. It would disintegrate over time to stop the pot from overflowing.

She slouched onto the table across from Spayar, pulling a slender leg up to rest on the seat of the chair, casually brushing her hair with her fingers with mixed success. “Have fun last night?” he asked her, smiling.

“You’re lucky you're so pretty,” she groaned and rubbed her face. “Me and the girls went out last night down to the Den, got into some trouble.”

“Nothing serious?”

“Not even,” she sighed, “just welcoming me home.” As she said that a man left her bedroom, looked at the two of them and hustled out. Another bustled out quickly after him. 

“Fun huh?”

“Would have been more fun with you around,” she said and rubbed the top of his hand.

“You know I don't like white guys,” he said with a grin.

“Well, most white guys,” she said.

“I assure you I don't know what that means.”

She pulled her hand back, “So what's up?” she asked and looked at the last person to stumble out of her bedroom. This was a lady in much better condition than the two men. “You the last one, love?” Tassa called.

“Hmm? Oh, yeah I think so,” she grinned at Tassa. Spayar vaugely recognized her meaning it was a friend of Tassa’s who didn't run in their circle. “You’re buying next time,” she waved as she left.

“She seems nice.”

“Uhhhhg, she's so hot I hate herrrr,” Tassa groaned and leaned on one arm.

Spayar laughed. “Yeah I can relate,” he said with a grin. Tassa got up and took the boiling water off the heat rim, deactivating the weave with a crook of her finger and poured the water into two mugs. She scooped an herbal mixture into two tea balls and put them into the cups. From a cupboard she produced beet sugar cubes, stained slightly pink for effect, some strawberries and two day old bread that was partially eaten to go with the butter on the table.

“Chems,” she announced grandeously as she set the tea and food down between them.

“How gracious. Your father wouldn't even recognize you,” he said, not adding any sugar to his tea while Tassa added about six.

“Hardy har har,” she stirred her tea with a weave of magic that turned it into a mini maelstrom. “What are you doing here and not a more appropriate hour of the day?”

Spayar popped a strawberry into his mouth. “I heard the thief lord died.”

“Uhg, not this now,” she moved her hair in annoyance. 

“You didn't mention it when I saw you.”

“I forgot and by the time I remembered I figured you'd know already,” she said and sipped her tea.

“What’s this Cross guy like?”

“Western fence who got a taste for the business way I heard it. Came from a city around Galinsum I think. Showed up in Assarus few months ago, killed Jackertty with their own knife. He doesn't like people.”

“You mean he doesn't like you.”

“He’s skittish around girls. Meet him and you'll see why- no. Spayar stop looking at me like that.”

“Like what?” he asked, leaning on the table a bit, giving her his best innocent eyes. 

“You don't want to meet Cross. He’s not like Jackertty.”

“I know.”

“He’s way more cut throat.”

“We’d get along then.”

“Spayar I am serious!”

“Me too. I can't have some unknown entity in my city. I use his hands as my eyes. Pays to visit the boss.”

“Spayar I don't-

He leaned across the table and put his hand on hers, “Tassura,” he said gently like the bastard he was. “I need your help.”

Spayar-

“Please, Tassura?” he kept his voice low and sweet. Only he and her father were allowed to call her Tassura, her real name. It was a soft and intimate familiarity that wasn't allowed by most Aldashi outside of family or their lovers. It was a weakness Tassa didn't let anyone have over her other than those few she loved. Spayar was a real wretch for using it now and he knew it.

“I— guess I could,” she said softly.

“Thank you,” he squeezed her wrist gently and let her go. “How was your trip back with Vondugard?” The prince wasn't back I'm the city yet. He'd taken a long route around and detoured down Maker’s End to the land around and past Gorum, see if any help could be drummed up there. 

“He needed you,” she said.

“He sent me ahead-

“I meant in the past two years. You could have waited to serve time.”

“Again, also something I couldn't control,” Spayar said.

“He’s soft, Spayar. I worry.” Not about Von, Tassa was worried about Spayar. “X’vazior almost said no.”

“But did he?”

“No. I lied for him.”

Spayar sighed and rubbed his face, “He’s too nice is what you're telling me?”

“He cares too much to be an effective emperor,” she used the Aldashi word for it but Spayar knew it. Kenna called Verilia emperor when he was pissed at her, or when he spoke ill of the princes and princesses. Wasn't fully bilingual in any one Alliance tongue but Spayar knew enough in a lot of them to get by.

“He’s too nice,” Spayar groaned, still rubbing his face. “He’s always too nice.”

“If you don't want to get killed when Teldin finally attacks he needs to toughen up.”

“I know,” he put his hands down and sipped his tea. Tassa had two strawberries, the red juice staining her olive lips. “You’ll set something up with Cross for me?”

She sipped her tea. “ What do I get? You're a deal maker.”

“What do you want? And don't say sex you know I like girls even less than white boys.”

“Oh, I gave that up years ago,” she lied. Spayar knew she hated it was a lie too. “How about you owe me one?”

“An unspecified favor? Tassa you were hanging around the Peony too much,” he smirked.

“Is that a yes?”

“So long as it isn't sex, sure.”

“It isn't,” she rolled her eyes.

“Then yes. A favor. Just keep it of similar magnitude?”

“I will. Are you going to stay for the rest of chems?” she worried the point of a strawberry with her index finger distastedly.

“I guess. You made me tea and everything. It doesn't have anything in it does it?”

“Of course not,” she scoffed and popped the entire strawberry into her mouth. “You enjoy I'm going to get some real clothes on,” and she got up. Spayar privately rolled his eyes. Her shift was barely long enough to cover her buttocks in the back. He sipped his tea and buttered some bread. 

Tassa ended up throwing a final, third, man out of her house while he got dressed. They cast a furtive look at Spayar as they scuttled away and he just smiled and waved. They grimaced and bolted, fearing him being her actual boyfriend. He just enjoyed the rest of the chems until Tassa came back out, brushing her hair with a wide toothed brush to get it under some control. “Want some help feeding the afternoon birds? You know they like me,” she leaned against his shoulder luxuriously.

“I’d be remiss to say no,” he said. She grabbed another strawberry and went to put on some shoes. Spayar crammed the last bit of buttered bread into his mouth and shot the rest of his tea before following her. “It’s still raining, bring an umbrella.”

“Who do you take me for Spayar?” she asked and selected one of her six umbrellas in the stand by the door. This one was wide and deeply curved, rain cloud gray on the outside with a red lace trim and an array of red hibiscus on the inside. It matched her wine bodice and scaldingly red leather breeches that clung to her legs and hips in a way that was meant to be distracting.

“Of course, I forgot to whom I spoke,” he teased and opened the door. “After you, my lady,” he swept his arm out teasingly.

“Oh thank you, my Lord. How gracious,” she said with an extra girlishly giggle and stepped out of her front door. The rain had intensified while he'd been inside. He put his hat on before stepping out and locking the door. Tassa waved a hand at the door, locking a weave across the front like a cage to prevent entry.

“Shall we, my lady?” he asked, offering her his arm.

“Oh my Lord,” she batted her lashes at him making him chuckle as she took his offered arm and they left the building complex through the front. Tassa opened her umbrella, sheilding them from unwelcoming eyes as they headed for one of the places Spayar went to to hear the news from his birds.

[ahungeringknife]

sip of snips 1/15: sit

Since I originally wrote Spayar and Von I've gotten a lot better at writing older teenagers/young adults. Basically I just make them stupid and it's perfect. This is your friendly reminder that even your most competent 17-21 yr old is an idiot sometimes.

====+====

Sitting next to his sister was someone very out of place in a family home of dark skinned Dirinnans. Or it would have been if Von hadn’t spent most of their childhood sneaking out of the Palace to come have meals and sleepovers at Spayar’s. “You,” he pointed at Von sitting next to Calli.

They both whipped around at his voice. Von pointed right back. “You. What are you doing here?”

“I live here!” Spayar cried and Calli giggled into her hand. “What’s your excuse?”

“I was in the area,” Von said with that annoyingly handsome smile of his that made him like a sunbeam.

“Lemp’s ball sack you were,” Spayar said and sat across from Von at the table.

[ahungeringknife]

what I love most about Spayar is that he acts like a whore while being the most boring basic bitch imaginable.

but not just in the sense that he sleeps around (he does). But he's all easy smiles and graces and goes out partying and shit. He easily tells you pretty lies that fill your head with all the assurances he's not going to knife you in the back. He'll sell you out in an instant. He'll sell himself out for the right price. He's got the biggest trickster god in the pantheon whispering in his ear just for the hell of it. It's fun. Could be a good story. Even helps him with a silver or poison tongue when needed.

You have what he wants? Name a price. The only thing he won't do is sell out Von

But on the inside he hates doing all of it. He just wants to be a fucking home body and hang out with his mom in the garden and help his dad make magic jewelry. He wants to follow all the stupid rules imaginable and have boring sex with the same person every time until he dies. None of this fuckery with the royals. None of this backstabbing with nobility. None of the drama that comes from being the d'aelar.

Spayar is the most edgy fuck you've ever seen. Dresses all in black. Opens his mouth for anyone who can benefit him. Whips his dick out if it gets him the golden goose. And in general in just a man whore style person who desperately just wants to talk about metal weight vs mass to anyone who will listen.

The problem is he's fucking good at it and that's why he can't just be the boring silver smith he should have been.

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancers, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@deadpool-scar-bro @starry-ampelope @golden-lionsnake @aw-some-musics @fullbearauthorclam @ragirl243 @redlion-fr @purple-forget-me-nots @unburdened-billy @trashcano08 @typefulls @slighteyewing @incel-tears @dgmana @genonehell @frxemriss

My favorite thing about Spayar is that no matter how cool he is or becomes this chapter still happens and shows he’a fucking idiot lols.

On the few clear days in the Meltong Basin during the wet season Assarus came to life like an ant hive. Most people tried to stay indoors as often as possible in the autumn because it rained nearly every day, so when the sky was clear and the weather warlockd predicted no rain everyone made sure to make the most of it. Spayar was on his mare in traffic, Duren sitting in front of him, sitting straight up and looking all around. Thankfully Spayar still had several inches on him or it would be a problem. 

His mare barely noticed the extra weight. She had a deep brown coat, thick legs, and great big hooves with great feathering. She was a horse who's ancestors had once worked the fields and now were the mounts of royalty and their favored. Von had gifted her to Spayar three years ago when Spayar complained about always having different horses wherever they went. Now she was his, he couldn't even begin to think of how expensive a horse like Spayar's was, trained for battle and didn't even flinch when her rider used magic. Not to mention the size, she was massive, and everyone got out of her way.

"Where are we going?"  Duren asked, turning around to look at Spayar, holding onto the pommel to keep from falling off.

"You'll see," though of course Duren knew why. He'd begged and begged Spayar over breakfast to show him how to ride and Spayar had given in if only to just make him shut up. By now they were leaving Bellringer and into South Garden which looked like it was trying very hard to mimic the style of Nedrag and the Garden with it's clean, boxy, buildings and covered in fauna. The city of Assarus or Surassa themselves had no one culture. They were a melting pot of all the provinces, and thus all the kingdoms the Alliance had conquered in its two thousand year being. Parts of South Garden looked like Nedalia or Dalican, there were motifs from the Yellow Hills in South Garden and he saw symbols from the city Peonia painted on the sides of buildings. People from the west of the Alliance had settled South Garden, much like the east had settled in Bellringer with it's gray stone buildings and clocks and its focus on craft rather than aesthetic.

"Shouldn't we be going outside the city?" Duren asked since South Garden was further in and really Spayar just wanted to get to Tradesmens as quickly as possible since unlike Peonia it sometimes mimicked itself after South Garden was one of the most twisting and confusing districts in the capital other than perhaps Cat's Cradle, even the Mire and Downriver were more organized than this.

"You'll see," Spayar just said again pushing his mare through a busy intersection full of people. When they saw his big war horse they jumped out of the way. Spayar was trying to be nice but he was getting annoyed with how busy this damn city was and he had a big horse. Big horses won over busy pedestrians.

"I can see Swan Island from here," Duren pointed once they finally got through South Garden and into Tradesmens. Spayar looked and indeed they could see the holy island from here over the low buildings and warehouses of Tradesmens, meaning Spayar was way off course. "Are we going to Swan Island?" Duren asked, confused.

"No," even as he made his mare head for the river. They came up to the walled bank of the Meltong and could see Swan Island easily. A small lake had formed here in the Meltong river in a low part of the land before it continued its journey south to the Break and the Fea’staal Sea. behind. Swan Island sat in the middle of the lake and it was a large, beautiful park, filled with temples. From here they could see people going in and out of them and people on horses or people enjoying the sunlight on the grass or under the trees. 

"Can we go to Swan Island?" Duren asked.

"I thought you wanted to learn to ride," Spayar said.

"Yeah I know, but we rarely go to Swan Island."

"Another time. I'll take you and the girls on Asumsest if you want," and he turned his horse to start down the road, running parallel to the river, towards the Winter Palace at the top of the hill in the distance. Tradesmens was full of canals that went into warehouses from the river and looked more like something from the country of Tipin or even Joti than anything else. Bridges spanned every canal for horses and pedestrians, though they were too steep and high to allow bigger boats through, so carriages had to take other routes. Few people were on the River Road but there were a lot of boats in the river. The Meltong was always full of boats and today was especially bad since it was full of trade ships and barges as well as personal boats with brightly colored sails or sides. At the very least both the river and the river road were orderly. 

The River Road wound north and east, through parts of South Garden, where Spayar didn’t let anyone get in his way lest they get trampled by war horse hooves, and then through the entire length of Uptown. The Hillsman children all went to school in Uptown. Mostly because their father could afford the cabby ride there and back every day and Anora’s private secondary schooling there. It was a wealthy neighborhood and it seemed like the was a bank on every street from every major city in the Alliance. At the last everyone moved with purpose here, no dawdling or frolicking about like in South Garden. Here people were all business and people stayed on the side walks and out of the traffic of horses, carriages, and some strange two wheeled contraption Spayar had never seen but flew down the street as quick as any horse. It looked like a buggy but wasn't pulled by a horse. He have to look into that.

When the River Road finally dumped them into Fey's Shadow Duren turned to Spayar accusingly. Spayar just rose his brows at his brother. Duren frowned the Hillsman frown at Spayar and turned back around. In Fey's Shadow the roads were wide and well kept, the manses behind their tall, thick, walls, were every style in the Alliance. The wealthiest people lived in Fey's Shadow and most nobles had houses here as well, and built their mansions in the style of their home province. You could see the entire gambit of architectural styles in Fey's Shadow from the low, spider web-like dwellings of the Wren-Kel, to the tall, low eaved, state house of the Peony. Spayar kept his horse on still and Duren's head kept moving, looking all around, trying to see everything. A lot of the houses were out of sight behind the walls but he tried, to caught glimpses of them through the gates.

At some point they came to the Twin Switches bridges, where the Meltong looped back around to itself and were only a few hundred feet apart. Two identical bridges built in a northern style spanned both parts of the Meltong and as they crossed the first bridge you could sort of see over the thick, protective, wall of the North estate. Duren raised himself up in the saddle a bit as though to see better before sitting back down. The North estate was the most heavily fortified estate they’d seen thus far, and the largest. Spayar knew there were bigger ones than the North’s, but it was up there.

“Who lives there?” Duren asked Spayar.

“The Norths,” Spayar said.

“Wow,” he said, “Do you know them?”

“By reputation, now sit down I can’t see,” and Duren turned right way round and sat properly as they started to cross the second Switch. Very shortly after they’d passed the North estate the road started to slant upwards to the Palace which gleamed like a snow capped mountain from the peak. 

There were no walls around the grounds of the Winter Palace, just like the rest of Assarus. There hadn't been an attack on the capital in two thousand years when neighboring nations had thought the young Alliance weak. Even the Federation wasn't stupid enough to attack their northern capital. You touched Assarus and a wrath that couldn't be imagined was unleashed. Not since Sinou's death had anyone tried to take Assarus or rather, Surassa, with any serious intent. The first Asuras had made sure the fear of what the Le'Acard could do would be felt through the ages until the end of time.

No one stopped Spayar as he rode up to the palace and Duren started to shift in front of him in wonder. It was above Duren to ever think of coming to the Winter Palace. His brother had been born and raised in Bellringer and he wasn't a knight, or a courtier or anyone of importance really.

Spayar didn't get too close to the Palace, instead he went around to the side where the stables were, where his own horse had been bred. A stable hand came out to see him when he got closer. "Sir," he bowed when he saw Spayar. Spayar recognized him.

"Oh stand up Jill," Spayar said, unimpressed. The stable hand, Jill, looked up, a rueful smile on his face like what Spayar did to Von Jill bowed to Spayar to annoy him.

The oldest son of a talented seamstress Jill was a spry young man Spayar's age with a gap in his front teeth, large ears, big green eyes, and hair the color of a carrot that stuck out wildly from any hat he tried to wear. They'd been sort of friends before Spayar had met Von, more friends because their mothers were friends. After Jill had finished his mandatory schooling in Bellringer he’d begged Spayar to get him a job in the Palace. So Spayar had and now he worked in the stables, right where Jill wanted to be with his love of animals. "You ain't impression' no one,” casually taking on the low born drawl of those in Middleton where he knew Jill lived, across the river from Bellringer.

Jill laughed and stood up straight, walking over to take the mare's bridle as Spayar dismounted with a grunt. Damn horse sometimes felt too big for him, even with his long legs. "Wha'cha here for?" Jill asked.

"Riding lessons, c'mon Duren," he held his arms up for his little brother. Duren dragged one leg over the saddle so he was sitting with both on the same side and then slid down into Spayar's arms. He wasn't strong enough to catch Duren anymore, his brother too big for that, but he could make sure he got to the ground safely.

"For who? You? You’re one of the best riders I know," and Jill sucked on his gap.

"No no, for my brother," Duren stood behind Spayar. He didn't know Jill, Spayar wasn't surprised, the damn guy slept with the horses now and rarely went home to Middleton despite talking like he'd lived there his entire life. Spayar also didn’t see or mention Jill like he did his actual friends. They’d been boys together but had nothing in common anymore and didn’t really interact except for times like these. "I need an easy horse, lower to the ground than her," he patted his mare's neck fondly.

"Wan’a pony?" he asked, "We have a few of ‘em marshy geldings.”

"Yeah, that sounds fine."

"You got it," and then he turned back towards the stables, leading Spayar's horse away. As he did Jill yelled, "Mavok, get one of the ponies saddled up!"

"Who was that?" Duren asked him.

"A friend," Spayar said, Duren just looked confused. "What?" he asked.

"You have other friends other than the prince?" Duren asked.

"Of course I do," Spayar said irritably. Spayar had a lot of friends, though few good ones, and countless acquaintances he knew more about than he had any right to. "Vondugard isn't my only friend."

"Seems like," Duren said, making a face, "dooim says so a least."

"Dad doesn't know half the things I do," thank the gods for that. “Don’t listen to everything dad says, he’s not always right.”

Duren frowned, not liking Spayar talking about their dad in any negative light. “Why do I have to ride a pony? I want to ride a horse," Duren decided to complain about that instead.

"A pony is fine to start with and probably as much as a horse as you'll ever ride," he patted Duren's shoulder. Duren looked at him sourly. "You're a smith brother, not a knight, you got no need for a horse."

"What about you then? Are you a knight?"

"No," Spayar agreed. Gods no he wasn't a knight.

"Then why do you have a horse?"

Spayar laughed, "More than just knights own horses, Duren. You see people not knights on horses don't you?" Duren nodded slowly. "A horse is just expensive. Expensive to buy, expensive to care for, expensive to house. I'm really lucky to have a horse like mine. But you," he tapped his brother's nose, "will be fine with a pony for today. Once you get better we'll move you to a horse."

"Okay," Duren said, Spayar could see the wheels of Duren's mind turning. But before he could figure it all out Jill was back leading a pony, fully saddled. It was a fairly tall pony, rather thin, with long, narrow, legs, but still many hands shorter than Spayar’s mare.

"Here w’are, one of them marshy ponies of LoHanJo'in," meaning it was a Adoshade horse. They'd bred them from the water ponies who lived in and around the Boggart swamps that took up most of LoHanJo'in province. They were just tall enough to stand above the water line most places and short enough to stay out of the way of the lower branches of the trees in the swamps and small enough to squeeze between trees to escape predators.

"Thanks," Spayar said and Jill handed him the lead.

"His name's Ollie, ‘e's a good boy," and Jill patted the pony's rump, Ollie swished his tail.

"We'll have him back before lunch probably," Spayar said.

"No rush. Hillsman can take him out as long as he wants, Stablemaster said that."

“Really?’ Spayar asked, raising his brows at Jill.

“Aaaah, not in so many words,” Jill said, grinning a gap toothed grin.

“Great,” Spayar said, half laughing, “Take care of my horse while I'm out."

Jill laughed, "She'll be a princess while she's here," he promised.

Spayar grinned and motioned to his brother to follow him as he led him and the pony away from the stables. "Spayar," Duren asked as they went to a field. Unlike most of the land around the capital the hill the palace sat on was hard ground. It was why Spayar had picked up here and not just anywhere, Duren wouldn't have to worry about potholes or wetland.

"Yeah?" Spayar asked.

"Does your horse have a name?"

Spayar looked up from where he was checking the pony's bridal, "Uh... no," he realized. He'd never named his horse. Three years and his horse didn't have a name. It had honestly never occurred to him.

Duren hadn’t been expecting Spayar to actually agree with him that his horse didn’t have a name. "It doesn't?"

"I guess not," Spayar admitted and looked back on his life choices where he hadn’t named his own horse.

"You should name her," Duren insisted.

"I wouldn't even know what to call her," Spayar said, "I always just call her girl."

"That's a terrible name." Spayar frowned, now he felt weird about it. How had he not noticed he'd never named his own horse? He’d had her for three years. How hadn't anyone noticed? Or what if they had but had felt like it wasn’t their place to point it out? Maybe everyone knew Spayar’s horse didn’t have a name and wondered what was wrong with him. It made Spayar feel self conscious about the entire thing. He couldn’t just go around asking people if they knew his horse’s name either because then if they didn’t know then they would. "You should think of a name for her," Duren said.

"I guess," Spayar said, though honestly giving his horse a name now would be more weird since he was so used to her not having one. "I'll think about it, now lets get you up.” Mainly he just wanted to get off the subject of his horse not having a name. Hopefully Duren would forget that they’d ever had this conversation.

He showed Duren how to mount a horse. Duren climbed onto Ollie's back with only a bit of trouble. Spayar handed Duren the reigns and saw that Jill had also given him a long lead line as well. Thanks Jill. "Marshy ponies are really well trained," Spayar told his brother to continue to stay off the subject of his own horse. “So you just need to give it a little nudge to get him going. With your heel... yeah like that," and Duren got the pony to start to walk. "Not so tight on the reins," he said as he let the lead rope out.

"How do I turn?" Duren asked.

"Pull them the direction you want them to go. Not too hard," and Duren did so. The pony started to moved in an arc with Spayar as it's center point. Spayar turned as the pony walked and Duren was so focused on the pony it was like he’d forgotten his brother was an absolute idiot.

"Spayar," Duren said after he'd walked the pony around Spayar in a circle a few times "what's a gelding?"

"It's a boy horse that can't have children."

Duren was paying attention to the pony when he asked, "Like you?"

"What! No. I'm not a gelding," thank the gods he wasn't. He rather enjoyed all his equipment, and all their functions.

"But you can't have children," Duren looked at Spayar.

"I am fully capable," Spayar said, trying not to be irritated. Duren was only eight, he was allowed to be stupid. It was surprisingly difficult to not be angry though. "I just won't."

"Cause boys can't have babies?"

"Exactly," Spayar said, "And a gelding is a horse who's been castrated. It's different."

"Well what's castrated mean?"

"It means they cut the balls off." Spayar laughed at Duren's horrified face. His brother looked down at his lap like to assure himself he was still in one piece. "They only do it to horses,” he assured Duren. That didn't mean Spayar couldn't think of at least a dozen reasons or crimes that would get a man castrated, and not just the balls either.

"Why do they do that?"

"To make them calmer."

"But what about making more horses?"

"They don't geld all the stallions Duren," Spayar sighed, "and the Adoshade only gift out or sell gelded marshy ponies, so other places can't breed them."

"Why?"

"Politics, don't worry about it," yeah only Spayar had to worry about that sort of stuff. "Try and make your pony go faster," Spayar encouraged to get them off the talk of horse balls. First making Spayar come to the realization his horse didn’t have a name and now horse balls. Something was wrong with his little brother. Duren tapped the pony again and Ollie started to go faster.

They were out there for a while until Duren said his legs hurt. "Owww," he complained as he got off Ollie. "Why does that hurt so much?"

"You aren't used to it," Spayar said, patting Ollie who looked ready for a rest and to not go in circles anymore. Duren was rubbing the inside of his thighs, looking pained. "Lets head back to the stable, I'm sure Ollie wants his lunch," and he started to walk, Duren rubbed for a few more seconds before following.

"You rode all the way to Peonia and back in like two weeks,” Duren said, looking at Spayar with something like awe.

"I did," he agreed.

"Didn't it hurt?"

Spayar shrugged, "It's just uncomfortable. You get used to it honestly, from being in the saddle so much."

"Doesn't your dick hurt though?"

Spayar snorted, "Usually the whole area just goes numb before it starts to hurt."

"You've ridden a horse with a numb butt?" Duren cried, eyes wide.

"Yeap," Spayar said. "But I ride all the time. The more you do the less it hurts."

"Oh," Duren looked contemplative a moment. "You're not a knight, right Spayar?"

"Nope."

"Then what are you? You can fight and do magic like a knight and a  warlock, but you aren't are you?"

"I'm not a knight," Spayar said, "all magic users are warlocks, you know that."

"Then what are you?" Spayar thought about that a moment. What was he? "Spayar?"

"I'm thinkin'," Spayar said as they approached the stables. Jill didn't meet them this time and they entered the building. "Hello," he called. The royal stables were huge and each stall had a name plaque beside the door. Despite that it was easy to get lost and it wasn’t best to wander without a stablehand to guide you. "Hello," he called again. It'd take them forever to find Ollie's stall on their own. He sighed and started down the stall lined corridor, at the very least he could find Ollie's stall. Though he also needed to find his horse. This was probably a horrible idea. Where was everyone?

They walked through the stables to the other side where there was a covered area that led to one of the two large courtyards that stood guard next to the large looping drive at the front of the palace. There they found seemingly all the stable hands, standing back and out of the way. In front of them was a gilt carriage pulled by a team of four, black, horses of the same sick as his own made and standing beside it was a fair haired woman who was yelling at the holsters. Spayar recognized her by voice alone, it was Von's second oldest sister; Obi. 

"What's going on?" Spayar asked one of the stable hands quietly, thankfully Duren had enough sense to be silent.

"Her highness keeps changing her mind about what she wants," they said, frowning. "First she wanted white horses, than brown horses, now black horses, and only females. Something' wrong with the carriage, this or that uhg.” 

"Well... I have a pony that needs to be put away," Spayar said.

"At least it's something to do, what's his name?"

"Ollie."

"Right, I'll take him. You got a horse, sir?” they said and took Ollie’s lead. Meanwhile Obi was still yelling, irritated something wasn't happening fast enough. Spayar hated Obi. Spayar genuinely hated few people, but Obi was one of them. She was a handful.

“Yes, she’s a royal breed, dark brown coat, white hairs, Jill put her away for me.”

“Ah, I know that one. I’ll bring her here, sir,” and they left with Ollie.

Spayar turned around when he heard Obi crack one stable hand across the face. "Do not talk back to me," she yelled at the man who was now on the ground, hand over one side of their face.

"Apologizes your highness, I was merely-

She stepped on him, stomped was more a correct term honestly. The stable hand cried out, his sound of pain startling the horses. "I said do not talk back to me!" 

"I'm sorry," the stable hand stammered. Spayar knew he shouldn’t intervene. He didn’t really have much to do with the other royals unless they put themselves in front of him. It was less messy and he wouldn’t get to know them and feel bad when he plotted their murder. He was about to turn away and take Duren with him when he recognized the stablehand. He cursed to himself. Of course it had to be Jill. Of course it had to be because Can’dhe liked to torment him. Liked to put things in his way and test his character.

He looked down at his brother and saw his brother recognized Jill as well. What would it look like if Spayar just turned a blind eye? How could he explain to his baby brother that it was better if he didn’t get involved? He couldn’t. Not after Spayar had called Jill his friend. What sort of person left their ‘friend’ to be beat over nothing. He sighed a little. He was about to do something stupid and reckless and he wasn’t looking forward to it.

"Learn to listen when your betters speak," Obi spat made to stomp on Jill again. This time Spayar flicked his hand to cast a spell and caught her heeled foot in mid air with a messy weave that clung to the air on spider silk connections. It did hold her though. She whirled on the stable hands accusingly, fire in her cerulean blue eyes. "Who's doing that?" she demanded.

Nothing for it. He’d started this, he had to finish it. Spayar stepped forward, leaving Duren with another stable hand who didn't need to be told to hold his brother back. "Hello your highness," he bowed to her neatly, extending his arms a bit and wishing he was wearing a bit nicer clothes. Anyone watching saw it as mocking but Obi, unobservant as always, saw it as respectful. What she did see was that he didn’t bow nearly as low as he would to Von or even the king. The king. Her nostrils flared angrily.

Obi was the prettiest of Von’s siblings and loved the gut, emulating all the most popular styles from there. Obi had long, delicate, golden locks she wore in immaculate ringlets of the Dalicites. Her nails were always freshly manicured and painted like a Nedalian. Today they were apple red with yellow tips. Her bright blue eyes were ringed in Aldashi style liner, the wings conservative like she’d done them herself and was intimidated by them. They weren’t nearly as long or elegant as Tassa’s. Even her clothes were western Alliance with a high hem on her skirt over a pair of lace tights and a bodice that showed off her flat, golden, stomach and pushed her breasts together while keeping her shoulders bare. For the aesthetics she was lovely. Under that gilded facade she was a miasma of stupidity and temper made of methane that just needed the slightest spark to erupt in either spouting off something so ignorant it actually gave you pause, or she’d turn you inside out with a temper tantrum.

"Spayar," she said his name like he was a piece of shit on her shoe, "what do you think you're doing?"

"Keeping you from hurting an innocent man," Spayar said calmly, standing up again. He didn't avert his eyes when he spoke to Obi either, he didn't know how to anymore. Von demanded that Spayar looked at him on level when they spoke and he did it out of habit to all people of standing.

Obi looked down and sneered at Jill who swallowed. "If I want to it's my prerogative," she said and snapped Spayar's weave holding her leg like he knew she would. This time when Obi made to stomp on Jill Spayar uttered one word and Obi lost her footing and fell ass up on her back. There was a stunned silence in the courtyard. Here Spayar had to play carefully or he’d have a fire on his hands. He wasn’t a pyromacer either and Von want here.

"That man is under your mother's employ and thus under the protection of the Le'Acard," Spayar said, hands behind his back so no one could see how hard they were trembling. He wasn't angry. He was afraid. He wasn't afraid of much but pissing off someone who could kill him effortlessly was one of them. Von wasn't around to protect him from his sister like sometimes. It was one thing to kill your brother’s best friend when he was alone, it was quite another to do it in front of him. Especially a d’aelar. Normally that would make him immune from most attacks by the Le’Acard. Not from Obi. Obi didn’t care. When she was angry or insulted and not handled carefully she’d take on anyone.

Obi stared at him like she couldn't believe he'd really just done that. He'd just humiliated her in front of a bunch of stable hands. "What are you looking at?" she snarled at Jill who was also staring, slightly slack jawed.

"Nothing, your highness," he looked away quickly

She got to her feet and marched over to Spayar. Obi was shorter than him, but it didn't matter, she was like fire. Literally she was fire and was a pyromacer like her brother Von. For a second Spayar thought the tips of her coiled hair sparked and became flame. Not unheard of for a powerful pyromacer. "You would do such a thing?" she hissed.

Spayar kept very calm. Obi won when you talked back, when you got angry. He'd seen enough of her fighting with Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin to know how she was, what she did, and how temperamental she was. When Obi started to smolder if you struck back in anger like she did she’d just ignite and you’d lose. It was something that happened often enough and only staying perfectly calm in the face of her wrath would see her be handled out of that spark of rage. “I would," he said. 

"I am a Le'Acard, you would lay a hand on me?" she demanded, fire in her eyes, her breath as hot as a forge on his face.

"I did no such thing-

"You still-

"I simply stopped you from making a mistake," he just talked right over her. The only way for Obi to hear you was to just talk over her.

"Me? A mistake?" she laughed.

"So you would rather me tell the stable master you beat one of his best stable boys and then he would tell your mother?" Spayar asked her curiously.

Obi froze. She hadn't thought of that. Of course she hadn't. Obi was an idiot of the first degree. Of Von's siblings she was the least he was worried about because Obi didn't have the patience or brain power to plan a coup, let alone the temperament to see it through to completion. She might know Tallalsala was meeting with the Clan and Teldin had the White Foot and Wren-Kal in his pocket, but that meant nothing to Obi. It was like telling her there was a particular bad thunderstorm outside. It would pass, as it always did. "My mother?" she asked and it was like Spayar had dropped a block of ice on white hot iron.

"Yes," Spayar said, "Asuras Virilia takes great pride in the horses her stable breeds, and thus those who work there. You wouldn't want her to know you were abusing them would you?" Spayar was talking out of his ass of course. Obi was too dumb to know differently. She believed everything people told her. A temper with gullibility did not make a good match and was how you threw sand over the tinder of her temper. He looked at the carriage, "Didn't you have somewhere to be, my lady?" he asked her rather innocently, switching topics and confusing her by now being worried for her well being and her time table.

"I do," she said slowly, unsure what he was doing or how to react appropriately since just a moment ago she’d been ready to burn him alive.

"I would hate for you to be late," there was a driver already sitting in the seat up front, staring at Spayar like he was crazy. "Since I'm sure it's terribly important if you need to go."

"It is," she said and pursed her lips at him. She hadn't even realized what he was doing. How did Von have a sibling like Obi?

"I'm sure they're waiting for you," he moved his fingers and the carriage door opened, beckoning Obi.

"This idiot-

"Had the best intentions your highness. You really shouldn't worry about such trvilalries," and already Obi had gone from being mad at him for humiliating her to complacent and ready to do what he said. If you didn’t set her off Obi was actually very easy to deal with. It was just she was easily set off. You just had to use a certain tone with her and she cooled down and did what you said once you showed her that yes; you were the boss here, not her. Honestly she was a bit like a horse. If the rumors were true she was ridden about as much as the common use horses in the stables too. "Driver," he called, "where are you going?"

"We're going to Mirin, my lord," the driver said. The capital of Kou. That made Spayar slightly uneasy. A million possibilities ran through his head about why Obi would be going to the capital of Kou. She had to have a handler, behind the scenes, trying to put her on the throne. If only so she’d be a figurehead.

"That's a long way," Spayar said, “Who are you going to see?”

“The Lady Lenni,” she said. Spayar wracked his brain. Who was the Lady Lenni?

“Well if you don’t leave soon it’ll be too late in the day to make any way down the Westernlance. You wouldn’t want to put off seeing her another day would you?”

“No,” Obi said adamantly.

“Then we should get you on your way,” he said, barely even in the moment with Obi. He was thinking of who the Lady Lenni was. He helped her into the carriage and Spayar closed the door with a pleasant smile. He waved to the driver once he stepped back and the driver, who finally had to look away from his stupefied amazement at Spayar, flicked the reins to put the horses into a trot. Obi would be out of the city before she realized Spayar had manipulated her and she’d told him where she was going and who she was seeing.

"That was amazing," Jill said from the ground. "How'd you do that?"

"I have a lot of practice dealing with Le'Acard," Spayar offered Jill his hand. Jill took it and Spayar hauled him to his feet. Jill wasn't  really wounded, but he was a bit battered. "Go to the palace healer, get healed up, if they throw a fuss say I sent you."

"You're right amazing Spayar," Jill said.

Spayar just shrugged, "Go on, me and Duren are for home."

"Right right," Jill said, and dusted himself off a bit. "Thanks," he said again, grinning his gap toothed grin at Spayar. Spayar went back to find his brother, "What you lot standing around for?" Jill cried at the other stable hands, "You gots stuff to do, so go do it!" and they scattered.

Duren was standing with his mare and another man that made Spayar stop dead, the warm feeling of victory over Obi leeching away instantly. 

Teldin was holding onto Spayar's horse’s reins and standing next to Duren like it was the most natural thing he could do. "Your highness," he bowed to Teldin much lower than he had for Obi. Unlike her Teldin actually garnered real respect. 

As with the rest of the past few generations of Le’Acard Teldin was fair and blonde, his hair in last decade’s style of long and slicked back. Unlike some of his siblings his skin was the color of flour and his eyes were such a brown they were practically black. He had mean eyes like an owl's and a long, proud looking face. He was well built and filled his autumn coat well. This was the man who threatened Von's life, and thus Spayar's own life; the oldest son of the Asuras.

"What can I do for you, your highness?" Spayar asked, straightening. As he did he noticed that twined around Teldin’s neck was a long, leaf green, snake with eyes too smart to be an animal. A shapeshifter. Spayar knew who it was instantly and it put him on more edge than he already was with Teldin’s appearance. Sade was a powerful warlock and shifter and practically Teldin’s second in command. She was practically another Spayar. Why would she be here with Teldin now?

"That was very impressive," Teldin said, he had the voice of a singer, the type you could listen to forever. "Not many people can so expertly manipulate Obi out of a rage," he said it thoughtfully but also like he didn’t actually care.

"You're too kind, your highness," Spayar said.

"Where's my brother?" he asked.

"Vondugard, your highness?"

"Who else would I ask you about?" though they both knew realistically Spayar probably knew the whereabouts of all the Le'Acard children despite only having been in Assarus a few days since his trip to the gut.

"I don't know. I just came home from serving time a few days ago. He wasn't here when I arrived,” he lied.

Teldin put a mean stare onto Spayar but he didn't flinch, didn't move a single inch. "You're a good d'alaer," Teldin said and cocked his head at Spayar in a very predatory fashion. "But you're wasted on my brother." Teldin knew Spayar was lying. He knew and knew Spayar knew he knew but pushing Spayar to answer would get him no where nor would it actually help him. He was just testing Spayar, like he always did, to see what he could get out of him.

"Your brother takes very good care of me," Spayar swallowed. This wasn't the first time Teldin had approached Spayar about changing his alliances. Teldin and Tallalsala had both done it, since they were the two better players on the field. They knew what it meant that Von had a d'alaer and they didn't. Sinou had had a famous d'alaer who helped him conquer the first realms of the Alliance. It was the opinion of most of the Alliance and especially the Le'Acard that Asuras who had a d'alaer on their sides were more competent rulers, better  in every way. That they could instill such zealous devotion in someone meant they knew what they were doing. Teldin, Tallalsala and Dellin all hated Von in equal measure they were jealous of him because he had Spayar; his d'alaer.

Spayar was the d'aelar of this generation, the first one since since the early eighteen hundreds. His kind weren’t common and there was only ever one at a time. If there were more they’d constantly be compared until one was proclaimed the true d'aelar in the style of the d'aelar of old. The only way to get the benefit of a d'aelar now was to either kill Spayar and get your own or convince him that it was in his best interest to side with them. He’d been on the end of enough threats to himself and his family and promises of the world, stars and everything in between to know that it was serious for the Le’Acard. They knew the importance of his title, what it meant for them and the nobles, commoners and soldiers of the Alliance in the coming Conflict. The greatest Asuri had d’aelar. They wanted one too. Unfortunately there was only one Spayar.

"I would do better," Teldin said, "whatever he does for you I can do better.” Not the first promise Teldin had ever given him. “Or whatever he doesn’t do for you,” and Spayar did his best not to just grab his brother and bolt. It sounded like he was being courted and not asked to betray his best friend. Knowing Teldin there was all sorts of meaning behind those words and promises he’d follow up on to get the advantage over his siblings. Spayar did his best to not think about Von like that, let alone his viper of a brother.

"I'm not interested," Spayar said instead, once again putting his hands behind his back so Teldin wouldn’t see how they trembled. He just wanted Teldin to leave him alone. "I am Vondugard's d’aelar. His d'aelar I shall stay. As I’ve said before, I want nothing from you, Teldin,” he said. Sade’s body extended out towards Spayar a bit and the human eyes in a snake’s head were reproachful.

Teldin frowned, “You’re sure? Now’s the time to pick sides, d’aelar. Do you really want to be one of those who visits a temple of Lemp?” All the hair stood up on Spayar’s body. Most of the time just the presence of a d'aelar by a Le’Acard’s side was enough to rally most of the nation to them and they’d come through and sit on the throne. But sometimes, it wasn’t. The crown heir in question was killed. D’aelar knew they wouldn’t be spared after a Conflict’s close like their donalim. The only way out was to leave the Alliance and never return, leaving behind everything and one you’d ever known, or kill yourself. Since suicide was against their religion and the will of Lemp necromancers would assist people in their suicides. The d'aelar who went to temples of Lemp were a select few, and they all did so out of shame and grief when their best friends, or - in one case - their lover, had lost the Conflict.

“Careful,” Spayar said slowly, to not betray the hard beating of his heart. “Your dread is showing, your highness,” he said and bowed a little. Sade flicked her tongue at Spayar hatefully and he wondered what the hell had just gotten into him to say that to Teldin’s face. The prince wasn’t the least bit amused.

Teldin dropped his mare's lead and walked away without goodbye. Spayar's heart was all the way up in his throat as he walked away. He lurched forward, grabbed his horse’s lead and his brother’s hand and dragged them away.

"Spayar-

"Later," and Spayar said and stopped long enough to help Duren onto his horse. He scrambled up after his brother.

"But who was that-

"Duren," Spayar said sharply and kicked his mare into a canter to get away from the stables. “Not. Now.” He looked over his shoulder but didn’t see Teldin. Thankfully Duren didn’t ask any more questions and Spayar could focus on putting as much distance between them and the Palace as humanely possible. It was of course this time, when Spayar felt the stress of Teldin and the Conflict on his shoulders, that he remembered that Lady Lenni was the name of a the High Priestess of Belladha, goddess of wisdom. What a stupid thing he’d think of now and what a pointless person Obi was going to see. Spayar didn’t know if he was more annoyed with himself for knowing who Lenni even was, or for thinking about that instead of the fact that Teldin had just promised him if he didn’t join him that he’d make sure Spayar visited a temple of Lemp.

He really hated the royals.

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work

@estevnys @bahamuut-fr  @deadpool-scar-bro @barkingjester @flelagela  @golden-lionsnake @frxemriss  @starry-ampelope

This just in: Spayar is a BIG GAY MOOD

Chapter 4: The Mourning Rose

The city of Nedrag and the surrounding area sat in a low part of the land. The little bay the city sat in was enclosed by two cliffs that rose like they were embracing the sea and sky. Nedrag was set in the lowest part of the cliffs, in the only bit of shore there was, and Spayar was surprised to see that there were also buildings cut into and built onto the northern cliff face. He'd never been to Nedrag so of course he wouldn't know. Ships bobbed in the bay, only the smallest boats able to get close to the port and avoid the perils of shallow water. The city itself were neat plaster white buildings with flat roofs, sitting in neat rows like teeth in increasingly larger semi circles around the bay.

Directly next to Nedrag, separated by a black wall, was the Garden. If Nedrag was monochromatic, with only the blue Shard to contrast it, the Garden made up for it by being every color in the spectrum. The largest building, the Grand Temple, at the center of the Garden was a pure alabaster and a gold gilt roof. Across from it, down a paved walkway, was the chapel, and it was as black as the Grand Temple was white. Where the Temple was full of beautiful sweeping curves designed to look like it was hovering above your head without supports and had large stained glass windows in the front of a silver man with a moon for a halo, the chapel was squat and straddled the pathway like a toad. The air seemed dark around the chapel, which was also an eighth of the size of the Temple, and Spayar was glad he'd never get to go in there.

More paved pathways branched off from the Temple like the spokes of a wheel, that went to white buildings of various sizes. Some were cottages, others looked like dormitories or classrooms, stables, workshops, training grounds, and then up near the cliff it was buffered against was the large graveyard. Each plot was marked with a post with a white circle placed on it's apex; the sign of the full moon. The walls of all the buildings except the chapel and Temple were covered in greenery and flowers. This far north it was warm enough that flowers didn't have a season and bloomed nearly all year round and the ones that didn’t were magically encouraged to do so. The Garden was a riot of color, purple climbing up the side of a house, thick stripes of yellow and red flower beds lined the pathways, rose bushes with flowers as big as your hand were practically everywhere. It was a perpetual springtime paradise in the Garden it seemed.

"I hate this place," Von said from his horse as they looked down on the city and temple complex from the Sea Road, the road that ran directly from Peonia and the Garden. A gift, it was said, from a Peony Governor to a High Priestess. If you listened to the Aldashi version the two were lovers. The Nedalian version said it was a peace offering. For Spayar didn’t know. Probably some petty argument the neighboring provinces had about gymnastics or plant growing.

"You have to admit, it does look pretty," Spayar said. Idly.

Von looked at him with a frown, "You know what they do in there, don't you Spayar?"

"Yes, I am well aware," the teaching tables were legendary in the Garden and you could see them from here. Open air amphitheaters with a small stage where the only object upon it was a heavy wooden table that was said to be black from blood and bent from hate. They regularly held live dissections on criminals who warranted the death punishment; murderers, rapists, pedophiles, partakers in incest, and traitors. If they survived the lesson a healer tended to their wounds, regrew organs if needed, and they were put back in cells until needed again. The necromongers who taught lessons in anatomy were experts at keeping their 'patients' alive for weeks. If a patient survived four months, half a year, on a teaching table without dying all their charges were dropped and they were free to go. Spayar didn't know of one time someone had made it all six months.

That wasn't even the end of the horror that went on there though. Spayar was sure he didn't know half of it, and didn't want it; was glad he didn't know.

"It's sickening really," Von said.

"They aren't all like that," Spayar said. He’d met a few necromancers while serving time and some necromongers. They were just people who were more fanatic about their worship of the god of death than most of the Alliance. That didn’t make them bad.

Von looked at Spayar, "They're a noble house of the Alliance, Spayar," he said seriously, "they're all like that."

"They're just people. People who are useful to us. Stop complaining.”

Von sighed, "Yes, you’re right-

“I tend to be.”

Von gave him an annoyed look but it didn’t stick. “And I suppose they could be worse. I could throw my hand in with the Clan. I heard my sister is doing that. Idiot," and he tapped his horse's side and they headed for the Garden.

“She is?”

“Last I heard she was sleeping with one.”

“Why would she do that?”

“Why my siblings use their bodies like that when everyone knows it means nothing will never cease to baffle me,” Von said. Spayar looked away in embarrassment. He knew why they would. He knew because it was useful to him in the same way.

He cleared this throat, “She must be desperate if she’s actually in bed with the Clan. I hear they circumcise themselves. That’s weird.” Von snickered from his saddle and they urged their horses to continue along the road down to the Garden.

There were two entrances into the Garden, the Rose Gate, and the Sea Gate. The Sea Gate connected the Garden to Nedrag and allowed people to move in and out of both places without having to go around to the front Rose Gate. Three necromongers and a single necromancer, a skeleton crew, were manning the Rose Gate, the portcullis down and looked like the vines of some creeping plant. The walls surrounding the gate were covered in spines like a barbed rose and a large, red, piece of stone had been carved into the shape of a rose to hang over the entrance, the black stone that housed the gate and made up the wall looked like leaves. The necromongers looked at the two of them as they approached. "The Rosalia are accepting no visitors now," one said.

Von looked at Spayar to say something clever. "We come in the name of crown prince Vondugard Le'Acard. We're here to see the High Priestess, Lady Helida Rosalia. Now open the gates or the Asuras will hear about how you turned away her son's envoy," Spayar said. He was good at this stuff. Making people scared, not of him really, but the power behind him. He knew how to make people do what he wanted them do. Just a few right placed words and all sorts of doors opened up for him.

Of course it would have just been easier to announce Von himself, but they didn't want people to know they were here. They'd been careful coming to the Garden from Peonia not stopping at towns along the way and using the main road to travel fast to outpace anyone following them from Peonia.  To the Asuras her children didn't just visit an important house for no reason, at least not one like the Rosalia. They had plenty of reason to keep their presence unknown. Thankfully it had only taken two days to ride up the coast.

The necromongers looked at one another and then at the necromancer. She pursed her lips and they and spoke amongst each other a moment. Spayar looked over at Von, what were they going to do if they didn't get in? It didn't come to that, "Tell his highness that our doors are always open to him," the necromancer said and the necromongers opened the portcullis. Von and Spayar walked under the Rose Gate and through to the other side. The portcullis thumped down behind them.

They rode to the Temple, and a pair of holsters ambled out curiously. Once it was clear they were guests of Helida they took their horses, helping them down and said they’d send their bags to where the High Priestess was allowing them to stay. After getting their names to add to the stable list they were beckoned off to enter the temple.

"Let’s hope we didn't come at a bad time,” Von said as they headed for the open mouth of the Temple. The entrance was open with a ethereal muslin veil covering the entrance. The bottom was beaded to keep it from flailing in the wind but parted like water when Von lifted the edge to go in.

"Her mother just died, Von," Spayar frowned at Von.

“I meant now,” he heard the eye roll in Von’s voice. “But it was almost five months ago Spayar, surely some of the bite is gone," Von said with a frown, "and her only daughter's naming day is approaching-

"It's in four days," Spayar supplied. He'd been tasked to know the naming days and names of every major noble house growing up, that included the new ones too. Von knew the heads of houses and important others. He didn't have to remember the others; that was what Spayar was for.

"Good. So lets hope she isn't so damn depressing. This place celebrates death after all."

Spayar frowned after Von. He just hard to remind himself that for a prince Von was pretty sheltered. He’d only ever been in the capitals really, or places where they were openly welcoming royalty. He hadn’t been around real people other than the Hillsmans in who knew how long. “That’s unfair to them,” Spayar grabbed him before he could go too far into the Temple.

"I'm the crown prince-

"These people could be one of your best allies. Your mother made herself no friend to Maja when she was alive, siding mostly with the Drake on important house politics when the two were involved. But they aren’t senseless or chaotic. They’re just people who worship Lemp, which is good because not many of us do.”

Von frowned hard at him, "Why do you have to be so damn smart all the time, Spayar?" Spayar didn’t miss the hurt feelings in his voice. Spayar let his arm go. He shouldn’t have felt bad for reminding Von to not be so judgmental but he was.

"You made me that way," Spayar said instead.

There was an uneasy silence between them for a moment. "You're right,” he said, acknowledging he’d done this himself.

“So listen to me when I give advice. Otherwise what is the point of me? A trophy?” D’aelar, an old Fey word meaning zealous servant, the most devoted to their chosen member of royalty. Von's older siblings called Spayar d'alaer to mock him in equal measure of how much they were jealous of their little brother to have someone so devoted to them as Spayar was to Von. There had only been a handful of named d'aelar in the entire existence of the Alliance since the first Asuras and his d'aelar, Masalla. To be named was no casual thing and Spayar didn’t always feel like he deserved it or that he was appreciated enough for actually having it.

Von’s eyes widened. “No,” he was quick to assure. “You’re my friend,” he touched Spayar’s arm. “You’re just… annoying sometimes.”

“So are you, don’t hear me complaining,” Spayar huffed.

“Oh so that whining you did all the way down the Westerlance didn’t happen?” Von grinned, relief spreading across his face that the uncomfortable moment was passed.

“Okay, maybe a little,” Spayar allowed.

“Can we go in now?”

“Yes.”

The muslin pooled against Von’s hand as he gently pulled away the veil barely concealing the entrance of the Temple and they quietly stepped inside. Inside the Temple was as grand inside as it was outside with shiny, multi-colored, marble floors and delicate white pillars. Frescos decorated the walls, most of the scenes involving death and women without faces riding pure white deer. Others involved naked men with stag heads eating the flesh of fallen warriors, and one depicted the three bird-like furies with gleaming swords and dark leather covering their bodies, ready for war, all of the paintings were scenes under moonlight of some form of solar eclipse.

This part of the Temple was totally open and at the back was a large, silver, statue of a man, Lemp; one of the twin head gods, ruler of the moon and the Shadowed Lands. He stood with one foot supporting most of his weight and you could see his ribs and clear line of his pelvis even through his clothes. Silver hair covered his eyes and in one hand he held a glass orb that glowed gently from the inside. A representation of the soul no doubt. In the other hand he held a shepherd's crook.

"Bad timing," Spayar whispered softly to Von as they walked a bit deeper into the side wings. The Temple was filled with people, all kneeling on the floor watching three people standing under the statue of Lemp, one women and two men, singing in a language Spayar didn't know. He had to assume it was the old tongue the necromancers spoke before their country had become part of the Alliance, the one their Red Book was written in. Spayar didn't know they spoke it anywhere else other than at funerals. The woman was a soaring soprano while the two men behind her were basses and it was a pleasant surpise. The singers had lovely voices that the vaulted ceilings of the Temple made resonate down into your bones.

Von tugged Spayar over to a wall and a small alcove where incense were burning gently in an alter of two cupped hands. Spayar looked up at the fresco and grimaced, they stood right under a stag headed man, a jogull, his maw dripped blood, his eyes a wild red color, teeth huge and pointed. He swallowed a bit and looked away, not liking being reminded that the Shadowed Land wasn’t the only place a soul could end up. "What’s this?" Von asked Spayar quietly to not disturb the service.

"No idea," Spayar whispered, "I think it's some sort of service."

"Is it a holy day?"

“Well… It is Lemest? So I guess? I'm not a Rosalia, how should I know?"

“Because you know stuff,” Von hissed.

"I don't know this," Spayar glanced at the Temple and the singing people. It was a very hauntingly beautiful sound he had to admit, also kind of creepy. But what did the Rosalia do that wasn't a bit creepy? "We'll just have to wait it out."

“Annoying,” Von muttered but they had no choice. They stood back, out of sight, waiting for it to end. Spayar's feet started to hurt before the song- songs?- ended. Everyone in the Temple bowed, touching their heads nearly to the floor and then stood up. The sound of hushed talking was nearly instant as they left through the main front entryway. Spayar recognized all of the people as necromancers or necromongers. No general servants or people from Nedrag had been in attendance. He could tell by their eyes and the way the men wore their facial hair. Every necromonger he’d met while serving time complained about having to keep their face shaved for religious reasons. Back home it was easy but on the road you sometimes had to make due with trusting someone with a dagger at your neck. If you were lucky an officer had a shaving knife or there was a lonth around who had the type of killer precision to shave your face without nicking you.

Once the last person had filed out Von stepped out of the alcove, "Okay, lets find the High Priestess," he said and Spayar followed him down the side wing to walk down to where the Temple had doors. Behind the main area of prayer the Temple also contained the rooms of the Governor and their family, the true Rosalia, since every man and woman who served Lemp called themselves Rosalia.

Von knocked on the door to the living area and a servant answered the door, "Can I help you, sirs?" she asked.

"We're here to see the High Priestess," Spayar said.

"She isn't seeing anyone."

"We're envoys of the crown prince Vondugard. Ask her if she'll see us," Spayar put in kindly.

The servant frowned at them, "I will ask," and she closed the door on them.

"What if she doesn't see us?" Spayar asked Von.

"Helida isn't stupid. She'll see us."

"Does she know we're coming?"

"No. But I know Tallalsala came and saw her. Helida nearly invoked my mother's wrath when she quite literally threw my sister out on her ass," Von chuckled.

"But?" Spayar asked, he hadn't heard this. That made him extra nervous. He hated not knowing what the royal heirs had been up to while he was gone. What stupid mess they’d made while he wasn’t around to capitalize on it.

"It was a few weeks after her mother died and, as you said, my mother and hers were not friends. She threatened to create a portal into the sky and see what came out if my mother wanted to 'punish' her for not tolerating Tallasala’s rudeness, which included some very nasty things including stripping of titles and going into the Book of Bloods. Needless to say it didn’t end well and Tallalsala had to apologize. My mother managed to smooth things over after that but we’ve had no correspondence with the Rosalia since.”

"Your mother is an idiot," Spayar said with a snort.

"She is," Von said passionlessly.

"You'll do better than her," he said as the door opened again to the servant girl.

"She's agreed to see you," she said.

"Thank you," Spayar said and they followed after the servant into a hallway. She led them to a room at the back of the Temple complex and knocked. Someone within bid them to enter and the servant opened the door, Spayar and Von went in.

Helida wore a dress down to her knees the color of storm tossed water, gray and blue and cold that made her brown skin look gray. Her long, brown, dreadlocks were piled on the top of her head like a crown and she wore small yellow flowers in her hair, woven into her locks. She had one brown eye, and her right one was the color of a drop of blood. Despite the mourning dress she didn’t seem any less than he expected her. Of course he put on all sorts of brave faces so wasn’t above thinking that of her. The room wasn’t exactly a room but an open air courtyard surrounded by high blooming hedges and enclosed by small gazebo.

When the two of them climbed the two short steps up to the wooden floor of the gazebo she bowed lowly to Von. “Your highness,” she said.

"You knew it was me?" Von said, hands behind his back.

She looked up at him with cool eyes, “I expected someone else to come along eventually after her highness Tallalsala made such a blunder. That and you look like your grandmother, of course I knew it was you.”

Von grimaced. “I see. I am actually not here to speak of politics at all, regardless of my incompetent sister,” Von said.

"Oh?" she asked, raising her brows at him.

"I came for two reasons," he said and stepped over to Helida. He took her hand in both of his, "I'm sorry about your mother," he said sincerely and Spayar actually wondered how sincere he truly was. Von didn't do things like this unless he could benefit from them. And he didn’t know what it was like to want to mourn a family member. "I know our families did not get along as well as they should have while she was High Priestess but she was an amazing woman. The world shall mourn her passing as I'm sure Lemp is glad to have someone like her back with him."

"She was,” Helida swallowed and it was the first time Spayar saw a chip in Helida's armor, and extracted her hand from Von’s "No doubt she's at peace in the Shadowed Lands." Von and Spayar crossed themselves respectfully.

"I also know that your daughter's naming day is coming," Von smiled warmly at her, "I had hoped to be invited," he held up a velvet bag he pulled out of nowhere containing the hair comb he’d bought n Tassa’s approval. Spayar didn't even bother to question where he'd been hiding it.

Helida appraised her prince, looking for lies, deception, or a way to make her look a fool in an attempt to regain his sister's honor. The truth was though Von didn't care about his siblings, much less Tallalsala. He was here for himself and yes to celebrate little Paja's naming day. After a few moments Helida allowed a slight smile to come to her face, "It would be an honor your highness,” she said. "I'll have some rooms for you prepared for you both. I assume you aren't here publicly?"

"No," Von said, "Discretion would be appreciated. My mother doesn't want her children anywhere near the Garden until... oh how did she put it?" he seemed to think a few seconds, holding his chin. "Oh, right, until 'that new red witch has remembered who holds the power'." Helida's eyes narrowed, Von shrugged, "But I am nothing if not a misbehaving son,” he said with a charming grin.

"You may want to be careful your highness," Helida said, "Roses have thorns."

"I'll just wear gardener's gloves then," Von’s smile didn’t falter for a moment.

Helida looked him over a last time, “Hmm, I like you more than your sister," she said.

"My sister is a moron," Von said candidly. "So, those rooms my dear High Priestess? Also maybe something to eat? My vassal and I are starving."

"Of course. And perhaps also a bath," she said mildly, Spayar wrinkled his nose but did agree. "I'll have Nemi air out some of the guest rooms across the court, you may make yourselves comfortable until they're prepared and have your bags brought to them.”

“Thank you, Helida. You are a most gracious and warm host.” He gave a little flourished bow more for the flair and less for the respect. That amused her and she chuckled.

“You are a gracious guest, prince Vondugard,” she said respectfully and stepped down from the gazebo to get the servant.

"Helida," Von said as she opened the door.

"Yes, your highness?"

"I am sorry about your mother. I can only imagine what it must be like," since Helida had no parents. Her father had gone through the Departed ceremony to get himself ritually killed shortly after Maja had suddenly died. Spayar wasn’t quite sure of what still. It was hard to get information from necromongers or necromancers in the Arm about what had killed the late High Priestess.

Helida looked over her shoulder at him, "Something tells me you will, your highness," and then she left the two of them.

When the door closed behind them Von grabbed his chest dramatically. "I have never been more scared of a woman in my entire life." He dropped onto the wooden bench that wrapped around the gazebo,

Spayar chuckled and sat down next to Von, "She is quite something," Spayar agreed with a smile.

"I felt like she was going to snap me in half with just her eyes," Von said, sagging in the chair.

"She is the High Priestess," Spayar reminded him.

"I must be a fool to try and play with the Rosalia. No wonder my mother distanced herself from this house when she could. They're terrifying!"

Spayar laughed, "Weren't you the one who said all the noble houses are this bad?"

"They are!"

"And that you wanted to try for the Drake as well?"

"Uhg, don't remind me. I can wait on the Drake until I feel like I'm not in danger of having my nuts ripped off and stepped on by a necromancer," Spayar laughed louder this time. "Laugh it up Spayar. I'd like to see you talk to her."

"You forget," Spayar said, "everyone you know and associate with is above me and could kill me whenever they wanted, for any reason. I'm used to dealing with people who make me squirm. It's a good lesson for you to find someone who scares you."

“I don’t like it.”

“It’s good for you.”

“And yet I have learned that everything that is ‘good for me’ sucks,” Von cried.

“Well… depends on what’s sucking,” Spayar said mildly and Von just looked at him very confused. At least Spayar knew Von was still innocent like that.

“How do you do it? Deal with those people?”

“I just remind myself you need me.”

“I am an adult, and quite capable,” Von said.

“Yeah. But you still need me,” Spayar said with a little self satisfied grin. “Who else will watch your back but me?”

“I guess you have a point. I do like having you around, even you are completely unreasonable at times.”

Spayar snickered as the door opened. It was another servant woman, this one looking much more everything than the one who'd showed them here. "Sirs, your rooms are ready. If you'd follow me," she said and they both heaved themselves off the bench and followed her. She led them out of the Temple and across the well paved path to a guest house between the Temple and Chapel. “Here you are,” she showed them in. It was several one room apartments with attached bathrooms. “You missed lunch," she said, "but Lady Rosalia is having food brought to your rooms shortly."

"Excellent," Von said, "Thank you," he nodded to the woman who just brushed something invisible off her apron and left them. "Bath and food?" Von asked him.

"I'll come over once I'm out," Spayar said.

"Good," and then Von vanished into the room he'd been given.

Spayar slipped into his own. It was well furnished but nothing horrifically elaborate. His bags were on a low bench at the end of the bed and there was a door to a bathroom on the left. He stripped and went to the bathroom, thankfully it looked the same as the one back home with an above ground tub. He knew inset floor tubs were becoming popular among the wealthy, especially nobility. Spayar just found them difficult to get in and out of.

The water was warm out of the tap and there was over a dozen vials and bottles of every scent he could imagine and a few he couldn't as well as three different soaps. He picked the mildest smelling ones he could find and washed. It felt good to get rid of all the dirt. He heard someone enter his room but leave again without announcing themselves, probably just his lunch. His stomach growled then, reminding him of how hungry he was. Spayar had planned on soaking in the bath a bit but his stomach demanded he do otherwise, so he climbed out of the tub, dripping wet and went into his room without bothering with a towel.

There was a tray on the side table filled with cool and raw foods. He groaned. Shit, he forgot the Rosalia were vegetarian. He'd been looking forward to meat, but no meat was allowed inside the Garden and other than specific sacrifices no animals were allowed to be harmed here either. If you wanted meat you had to go to Nedrag. Spayar looked forlornly at his meal and picked at a baked bun filled with vegetables. It wasn’t that it was bad but in Peonia raw meat was already being sold, despite the very clear law saying that wasn’t allowed, and that made cooked meat for purchase even more expensive. Von hadn’t wanted to contribute to it so they’d only eaten fish in Peonia.

He wandered around his room a bit eating the bun and letting the wind from the open window dry his naked skin. He looked for spy holes and hollow areas where there shouldn’t be. He also checked under the bed and in the closet but found nothing. Either the Rosalia were trusting or they didn’t care. He supposed it was probably the latter. Who was dumb enough to make plots against the house of necromancers in their own home? Satisfied with his room he dressed, grabbed his tray still full of food and went to Von's room. He used a bit of magic to push the door open so he didn't have to take his hands off the tray.

"Von," Spayar called as he entered.

"Still in the bath," Von called back as Spayar closed the door.

"Still?" Spayar sat on Von's bed, putting the tray in his lap and started putting food in his mouth. He didn't care if it was vegetarian, he was starving and it was good. Honestly he didn't even notice the lack of meat as he ate some sort of cool, savory, tart filled with cheese and vegetables.

"It feels wonderful," Von said delightfully from the bathroom and he heard some water sloshing, the door was ajar but Spayar couldn't see inside. "You didn't want to relax?"

"I'm eating," Spayar said, his mouth full. From the bathroom Von laughed.

"I do have to admit," Von said, "This did turn out better than I expected."

"You expected to be ejected?"

"As soon as she saw me honestly," and Spayar heard more water sloshing around. "You remember the Rosalia ruled Nedalia before it became one with the Alliance."

"I remember," Spayar said. Old Nedalia had had two rulers before they became part of the Alliance. A weak king and a much stronger faction of priestesses who served Lemp. Von's ancestor had taken Nedalia nearly fifteen hundred years ago, promising that the Rosalia would rule this province and not the now extinct Rensun.

"Honestly it's like some of these houses still think they rule," Von muttered, just loud enough for Spayar to hear.

"Well that's why it's called the Alliance," Spayar shrugged as he shoved an apple slice covered in honey into his mouth and nearly gagged on how sweet it was, "You only rule through their agreement of an alliance," he went to eat the rest of the food on his tray instead of the honeyed apples. There was cubed and skewered squash, yam, and turtle peppers covered in a thick brown sauce he was into.

"I know," Von sighed.

"Then why do you make me remind you?"

"It'd just be so much easier if the Alliance was smaller, and I didn't have to worry about such high and mighty nobles."

"I don't," Spayar said.

"You're not a Le'Acard," Von said and Spayar heard yet more sloshing, a lot more sloshing. "You don't have to worry about the stuff I worry about."

"Yeah I just have to worry about you. And let me tell you, one Le'Acard is enough to... worry about," Spayar trailed off, the food practically falling out of his mouth, as Von came out of the bathroom, a towel wrapped around his waist and he swallowed thickly. Before he'd left to serve his Von had been a child. He'd been almost fifteen years of age and seeing him shirtless was like seeing a child shirtless. That was two years ago and Von's visits to bother Spayar on his service had come maybe twice a year for a short period of time, this was the longest he'd spent with his prince in two years. In two years Von had grown up and he definitely didn't look like a child now and had some hair on his chest and a defined abdomen he definitely hadn't had when Spayar had left. His arms were muscular and his skin was bronze all over, meaning he'd trained, outside, shirtless, during the summer. Spayar blushed and thanked every god he knew his skin was too dark to show it.

"Yeah but you like it," Von didn't even seem to notice and smirked at him before going to find some clothes. Spayar stared down at his tray. Good gods when had Von become a man? He always sort of knew it but he still thought of Von as that barely fifteen year old kid he'd left in Assarus two years ago. Von definitely wasn't a kid anymore. This just made it worse for Spayar honestly.

"It has its benefits," Spayar said and cleared his throat.

"Well of course. I mean you get to be in my presence," Von teased.

“Yeah, the presence of the most royal pain in my ass," he said but still was staring at his tray as he heard Von pull on his clothes. His knuckles were pale where he was gripping the tray. He wanted to look, but he didn't.

Von laughed, "Food any good?" he asked as he sat next to Spayar and finally he could look, oh thank the gods he was dressed. Von had his own tray of food next to him, between the two of them.

"For nothing but vegetables, yes, its good," Spayar said and pried his hands off his tray so he could eat. The gods were testing him with giving him a hot best friend, one who was also a prince. It was a cruel test.

"I forgot they don't eat meat," Von popped one of the little cheese and vegetable tarts into his mouth thoughtfully. "Honestly I don't know why the Drake and Rosalia don't get along. The wyrms are vegetarians, the necromancers are vegetarians, the Wyrd practically sustains itself on fish and chicken. "

"So they should get along based on their food preferences alone?" Spayar rose his brows at Von.

"Why not? Not like their hatred is any less stupid. Do you even know why they hate each other?"

"No," Spayar said. The reason for the blood feud had been lost centuries ago, and had started when the Rosalia had first started to train necromancers, decades after they joined the Alliance. All anyone knew was that the two factions loathed each other and the feud had nearly led to civil war several times in the past two thousand years. No one even knew why. Anyone Spayar talked to who wasn’t part of the feud also thought it was beyond ridiculous.

"No doubt its over something stupid. Like a girl, or a pig, or some insignificant slight," Von said, unimpressed as always with the petty hatred between the Rosalia and Drake.

"Who can say honestly," Spayar said. "So other than Paja's naming day what is your plan here?"

"Nothing," Von said.

"Nothing?"

"Yes. Nothing," Von had found the apple slices and was polishing those off while he eyed the ones Spayar had left on his own tray. Spayar didn't like sweet things that much, he knew Von did though.

"What do you hope to accomplish with that?"

"That I'm better than my mother," Von said. "I've been planning what to do for a while and honestly Tallalsala's mistake was a great opportunity for me," he smiled slightly, madly. "My family has lost the art of subtlety the last few generations. My mother didn't even kill her own mother, she just found her hurt brother who'd thrown the coup and killed him, taking his place. It's all brute strength and no brawn in my family. Bless my father for being a snake in the grass and slithering into her bed,” he crossed himself like he was thanking a god.

"Which none of your siblings got except you?"

Von shook his head, "Teldin is good. He's overly cautious, but a good match for my brain," he tapped his temple, leaving a slight residue of honey. It took more willpower than Spayar would admit to to not wipe it away with his thumb. "Can I have those?" he pointed to Spayar's honeyed apple slices, the only food left on his tray.

"Yeah," Spayar said and Von took the little plate they were on happily. Spayar smiled slightly, he liked making Von happy, even if it was just small things like honeyed apple slices.

"I have sources," Von said, the apple slices vanishing down his throat quicker than they maybe should have while he was talking, “Not you, I know what a surprise. But they’ve told me Teldin has put his lot in with the White Foot and the Wren-Kal."

Spayar frowned, "Both are powerful," he said. The White Foot were a nomadic people from the north who lived in the foothills of the Spine and within the Spine itself at times. They were a fearsome cavalry and being so close to the Federation border they could shoot an arrow or swing a sword almost before they could talk. The Wren-Kal were a house of powerful warlocks, many of which with the lightning element. Not a great enemy to have.

"Yeah and like I told you, Tallasala is approaching Clan chieftains. She knows Teldin has started to move." The Clan of the Yellow Hills was a collection of tribes who only barely agreed to Alliance laws and abided more by their own tribal laws than not. They were also known ritualistic cannibals. The ritualistic part was usually left out in most people’s minds so they had a fearsome reputation.

"What about Obi and Dellin?"

"They probably also know. Honestly if I know then my mother knows and so do my older siblings," he didn't mention the younger ones. Malora, Cashchil, and Gurrin, were all too young to worry about politics. The next oldest, Cashchil, was only twelve. "Though if I know about the White Foot and Wren-Kal I don't know about others. Military officials, master smiths, lower houses. All important."

"Was the Tallalsala coming here a reaction to her learning about the Wren-Kal?"

"Possibly," Von said licking the last of the honey off his fingers and the natural frown on Spayar's face deepened. "She moved too quickly, pissed off a potential ally, and then went whimpering back to mother." He rolled his eyes.

"Teldin will move soon?"

"I don't think so. You know how he is, everything is methodical. He won’t do anything until he knows he can and will win.”

"How long do you think you have until he makes a move?"

"A year. If I'm lucky," Von said seriously and Spayar swallowed. Von was marking his life at one more year if he didn't stage a coup first. Why couldn't the Le’Acard just wait until the old Asuras died or stepped down like every other kingdom? Why did the death of an Asuras always come accompanied by so much blood shed? Right, because the Alliance was like no other kingdom on Priman'osta. "Once I'm done here I need you to return to back to Assarus before me-

“Why not accompany you?”

“It’s safer for you in Assarus than it is for me. Teldin is there. He won’t hurt you but I don’t trust him not to do something to me.”

“And what are you doing?”

"I'm going to head south-

"Please don't say Peonia."

"No. The Lord Peony loves my mother. She has that… man,” he stopped himself from saying something rude, “in her pocket. I'm going to go to Alderin."

Spayar thought about who lived in Alderin. It was a little city too far inland to have a port and was off the main road that ran the length of the Shard. There was no high noble family there, so lower, probably a military official. He squinted in thought about what was so important about Alderin to have a someone needing to watch it. Trade, of course. "One of your mother's Praetors lives in Alderin," Spayar sad once he remembered but that didn’t help his confusion.

"He does."

Spayar blinked, "You're going to try for a Praetor?" he asked. Though it was a better idea than the Archon since usually when the Asuras died they were either killed or forced to step down. The Archon only obeyed the Asuras and was dangerous to have around when you took the throne. More than one Archon had betrayed a new Asuras after a coup to warrant the tradition.

"X'vazior and my mother have been on the rocks lately. She wants to try and capture land beyond the Mesa Plains, X'vazior publicly refused to lead his Arm across it-

"That happened like five years ago," Spayar's brow creased, "I thought she forgave him."

"Publicly. He still shamed her, and she humiliated him. X'vazior is holding onto that grudge."

"You know for a fact?"

"My mother summoned him to the Summer palace this year. He said he was busy and could not 'tend to her every whim' since they were suffering a bad harvest this year and he had to find a way to get food to his people," Von said.

"He really doesn't like your mother."

"You would be surprised how many people hate my mother," Von sighed and sat back, holding himself up with his arms. "She spends frivolously, she's a coward who hides behind her title, she wants to be a conqueror when every province is trying to find enough food during a bad year for harvests and can't afford a real war. She shuns powerful houses because they frighten her and I heard that the Shade are simply not reporting anything. Any of Aklin’s men who are sent into LoHaJo’in  never come back, the Shade kill them no doubt. The Drake are starting to bite a bit too hard on the Rosalia and my mother isn't doing much to stop them. I've heard rumors that people are scared there will be a civil war, a proper one and not a mere Conflict. My mother can't hold the Alliance together and people are angry."

"Does she know this?"

"She must," he sighed and rubbed his head like he had a headache, "Aklin's a good spymaster. He knows things I could never dream of knowing about her, about what's going on. I think she's too scared to do anything. She doesn't know how to be Asuras." Spayar did not agree or disagree. He didn't know much of the Asuras, but his father certainly complained about her plenty, usually in the same breath he complained about Von 'spiriting his son away to be his lap dog'. Spayar was usually too busy focusing on everything else to look too hard as his Asuras and the only thing he truly knew about her was that she did kill her brother during his coup before he could kill him. "She's an idiot with a wooden sword trying to train lions," Von sucked his teeth, "and now they're starting to growl at her and she doesn't know what to do."

"You'll do better," Spayar said.

Von looked at him, his brow low over his eyes in a worried look, "I have to be if I don't want to die," he said. "For my survival I need to be better," and he looked away. Spayar didn't know what to say to that. After a moment of hesitation he reached over and put his hand over Von's, Von twisted a few of fingers to grasp Spayar's.

"We'll be fine," Spayar said softly.

"I hope so," Von said, looking at him again, "I really hope so."