Act I: Kingdom of Nobodies
Chapter IV: The Great Country of Eldgenglen
"Hahaha! Welcome to Eldenglen! a man with a thick, rolling accent boomed across the dock.
His voice hit me like warm thunder - too loud, too cheerful, and too certain that I should feel the same. Naturally, I didn't .
He looked nothing like the people of Velgrin. I'd read plenty about how appearances changed when you crossed the seas, but a lifetime in the Anderfell halls had clearly prevented the idea from coming true in my mind. Another weird tingle flooded my chest at another bit of prejudice. Amarinda had believed it. In truth, she hadn't found it shocking at all.
She had been in the right, of course.
The man's skin was a deep bronze, sun-kissed so strongly my skin looked sheltered in comparison. His eyes were thin and fox liked, giving him a sharpness that carried on down to his grin. His hair was parted down the middle - styled in a way that no man in Eldenmark wore unless they were a monk or in morning. It also gave his look a thinner tone as it landed on his jaw.
He wore silk garments. Real silk. Not the stiff, ceremonial stuff favored by Eldenmark nobility, but instead fabric that rippled and moved like smoke after every step. Somehow, it made him look both wealthier and freer than even myself.
There were several men behind him that stood in a loose semi-circle. Unlike the silkly greeter, they wore fit leather jackets, each dyed a darker shade of charcoal and deep green than the last. It was weird to see; that being uniforms designed solely for battle rather than appearance. Their swords curved slightly, ending earlier than the one I carried. The swords hilts were also laced with silk rather than jewels and leather.
The city behind them buzzed with a similar atmosphere, that being functionality rather than appearance. Even the bridges were cold, dry stone. Houses were stacked atop each other, the only decorative architecture against the gray streets.
In sharp contrast to the men in front of me, the common folk unloaded crates and barrels from the ships I had brought, their clothes simple cotton. Patches held together trousers and shirts similar to those of the people in Fallowmere.
The man in front strode forward and grasped me by the arm gently. It wasn't aggressive, yet it gave off the impression that he had every right to, all the power above me. "You are Ambrose Anderfell, I take it?"
His smile widened. "We have hear much about you. It honors us to host you in our beautiful land Mornhal, much less my country Eldenglen."
Her was perhaps five-six, only a touch taller than I me although I had only reached twelve. The others weren't much larger either at a second glance. But stature didn't matter in the slightest. These were men who knew authority.
Crossing them would earn me and my family nothing but trouble - clearly the reason we were holding talks in the first place.
The boat ride here had been tolerable - far better than the carriage, at least. I'd been granted my own corridor and allowed to keep to myself. No father. No nobles. No constant criticisms. Just me, the sea, and the gnawing ache of knowing I was being sent to clean up a war I wasn't a part of and tie back together our countries. Because that was what 'King Elden would have wanted'. Ancient bastard.
He released my arm and gestured broadly at the sprawling city past the docks
"Come," he beckoned, "the delegation is waiting."
I followed obediently, my boots clacking against the wooden planks and eyes trying to absorb their first foreign land.
The air smelled different here - like salt, spice, and something sweet simmering in clay pots. Bells chimed far off in the distance, high and metallic, unlike the ones in the cathedrals at home. The buildings were covered in delicate roses, wooden beams painted red or black, the roofs curling at the edges like dragon scales.
And everywhere - everywhere - there were people.
Vendors called out in a language I could hardly catch. Children darted across the street with rocks and bundles of herbs. Guards stood in lines wearing lacquered armor. Old men smoked long pipes beneath paper lanterns. Monks were draped in pale robes, sweeping a beautiful temples steps with straw brooms.
The city moved like a single living being.
Just like Fallowmere.
It was overwhelming. And beautiful.
And utterly unlike home.
"Ambrose Anderfell," the man said again as we stepped into the heart of the city. "Your arrival is... timely... very much so."
He glanced at me sideways.
"The unrest in the provinces has worsened."
Of course it had. That was why father sent me. Not to simply learn diplomacy. It was only to patch up messes he didn't want to face himself and hopefully repair long broken bonds in the process.
As always, I was a symbol before I was a son.
The man escorted me toward a waiting palanquin, flanked by four carriers and a young escort.
"Before we bring you to the capital hall," he said, "you will meet the regional stewards, the guild elders, and the military advisers. Eldenglen is... well... complicated. Many hands govern, and none agree with another."
I exhaled slowly, his breath somehow even less confident than my own.
Five thousand miles from Velgrin and politics were still the center of my life.
But as we moved deeper into the city - past steaming food stalls, shrines carved from stone walls, pagoda towers, and bustling squares - I couldn't help something else from growing inside me.
Curiosity.
Wonder.
It was a sense that the world was far larger and more interesting than Ebonhold and Anderfell's suffocating throne room.
Maybe... maybe there was something here worth seeing.
Maybe I would another thing about the king I wanted to be and help me remember who I truly am without the Anderfell name stuck to my back.
"I trust your voyage was pleasant?" the young escort asked. Her lengthy dark hair ended at her hips, touching the tip of the blade she grasped tightly. It was hard to tell whether her expression was one of concentration or nervousness as her lips pressed together tightly, eyebrows creased downwards at the tips of her lashes.
"It was tolerable," I replied.
The man who had brought me here laughed - full-bodied and more genuine than I had seen him so far. "You Velgrin nobles. So stiff even the sea can't shake you loose." he said as he peered into the palanquin, motioning for the carriers to raise me.
Foot steps clapped across the stone as laborers rushed past us. Everyone moved with purpose, bowing briefly as our procession of finely dressed men passed. The city around us - like the whole country of Eldenglen - was a maze of narrow streets that somehow managed to fit this massive package.
Velgrin was sharper, straighter, colder, and more disciplined. Dead compared to the sound around me. This place was alive in a way I hadn't expected. And yet the people here had so much less.
The carriers rested me on the ground carefully as once we reached an extravagant carriage etched with curling patterns. "Forgive me, I have yet to introduce myself. I am Councillor Haruto Goto of Eldenglen. This young woman here is your guardian."
"I am Hitomi Saito, sir. It is my honor." she said in response. They both then bowed deeply with their fist pressed into their open palms - some local gesture, I assumed. Thankfully, I wasn't corrected when I mirrored it a moment later.
"We will take you to the Citadel, where the Governor and the other council members are waiting," Haruto said, " There is... much to discuss."
There always was.
I stepped into the carriage, sinking into cushions softer than anything I'd sat on since leaving the castle. Haruto settled across from me, Hitomi to my right. Their posture was straight yet relaxed, much more human than I was familiar with.
The carriage lurched forward after a moment. For several minutes, none of us spoke. I watched the city fly by - its organized chaos, its unique colors, its people who seemed o live with such an intensity it made Velgrin feel muted.
Haruto broke the silence. "If I may ask, have you traveled beyond Velgrin before this?"
"No."
"Hmm." He smiled knowingly. "Your eyes give you away. You look like someone trying not to stare."
I didn't respond.
"There is no shame in curiosity," he continued. "These streets are old. Much older than anything in your capital Eldenmark. Some say our ancestors crossed the sea before yours even learned to forge steel."
His pride wasn't arrogance - it was belief.
"That be said, your ancestor all those hundreds of years ago did conquer this land, so strength be towards whoever history crowns victor."
The carriage passed a row of shrines carved from darker stone than anyone before this. People knelt before them, lighting sticks that released spirals of perfume into the air.
"Religion?" I asked.
"A mixture," he replied. "Tradition runs deep here. They are making offerings to the Moon. You will see things you do not understand. Don't worry. We will guide you."
Guide. Or supervise. It was always difficult to tell. Although Hitomi's nod did make me feel more at ease.
We turned onto a wide road leading uphill. At the top sat a sprawling structure - the curved roofs stacked more like layering wings than scales here, the brightest red I had ever seen. Guards flanked the entrance, armor polished to a mirror level shine.
Haruto lifted a hand. "Welcome to the Citadel of Islin, Eldenglen."
The gates opened.
The interior was vast. Wooden beams arched overhead, painted with scenes of anent battles I couldn't recognize. The smell of incense mixed with a sharp smell of tea to relax me slightly.
I was escorted through long halls lined with silk banners. Servants passing in near silence, gossiping in short whispers about what I assumed to be me. Every eye flickered towards on and off me - curious yet cautious.
Finally, Haruto led me into a circular chamber where a group of dignitaries sat around a low table. They rose in unison at our arrival.
"Ambrose Anderfell," Haruto announced. "Envoy of Eldenmark."
I dipped my head slightly in acknowledgement.
The Governor was a slender man with silver hair tied into a knot at the back of his head. His face was smooth but hardened with authority much like Haruto's.
"We are honored to receive one of Velgrin's finest," he said.
It was clear their opinions of Velgrin varied as some faces were covered in envy, others in resentment, and thankfully, some in admiration. However, they all possessed one thing: caution. Velgrin was powerful, and I represented something with a history as well as a future that couldn't be predicted by those of Mornhal.
I took a seat, Haruto bidding me farewell as he crossed the room to find his assigned seat. Hitomi stood behind me, her grip tighting around the hilt of her blade at the glares. I attempted to appear large but could only have looked ridiculous in this room full of trained professionalism.
The Governor spoke first. "Your arrival comes at a fortunate time. The disturbances in our southern provinces have grown... louder."
Another councilor, a stern woman with a scar running down her jaw, added, "We have taken measures. But what remains requires someone with your... reputation"
My reputation.
It was obvious they didn't need me so much as the forces I could bring.
And so I would do the same. I would be efficient, composed, and detached. I had to unbothered by what needed to be done.
I gave a neutral nod. "Tell me what you expect."
For the next several hours - six discussion filled hours gave enough details to which I wouldn't have been able to write them all if I dedicated the rest of my life to it.
The political factions.
The history of the province rebelling.
The cultural tensions running deep as roots.
The youth movement that had grown in a armed revolt.
The government's weeks long siege that had ended only yesterday.
The hundreds of bodies still cooling in the dirt.
The thousands hiding to strike again.
And finally -
"Your responsibility," the Governor concluded, "is to finalize the... agreements. Review the aftermath and confirm compliance. And to any rebels remaining..." He let his words fade with implication.
I understood it clearly.
Hitomi placed a new cup of tea in front of me as Haruto continued for the Governor. "You will leave at dawn. It is a long journey south. If you can not solve things then, we will attempt to keep them down until your reinforcements can arrive."
The tea was bitter and warm.
"We trust," Haruto said quietly, "that you will handle things with... the same decisiveness you are known for."
My decisiveness?
I took another sip of the tea, my hands shaking with nervousness. Wasn't this a lot to be putting on a kid? I am only twelve after all. Curse being the first of a noble family.
As I sat, contemplating what had to be done, the nigh on the entirety of the room took their leave. After a few minutes, it was only me, Hitomi, and a man I had not been introduced to.
Hitomi stood slightly behind me against a pillar, smoking a cigarette and staring off into space. It was clear she wasn't necessarily the 'social type'.
The unfamiliar man approached, boots clicking sharply against polished floor. "Ambrose Anderfell," he said, his voice as deep as the hit of a gong. "I am Major Kaito of the Southern Enforcement Division."
Not 'Commander' or 'Captian.'
'Major.'
The rank meant little to me - or at least it should have - but the way he carried himself forced goosebumps up my leg. He held his chin high, shoulders square, and his eyes hard in a way that suggested he held complete control.
He was older than Haruto, perhaps mid-forties, yet he was lean and wired with tension. His gaze lingered on me longer than was polite. It was obvious he was measuring and dissecting me - making me wish I could run away."
"You will be accompanying us on the ride south," he said. His tone was clipped and commanding. "My men have already secured the rebel compound. We merely await your... assessment."
Haruto was still stood in the doorway, watching as he cleared his throat." Major Kaito is responsible for overseeing internal order in the southern provinces."
Kaito's lips twitched. It wasn't into a smile or a frown. Instead, it was an expression he'd apparently forgotten how to use correctly.
"I prefer results to introductions," Kaito said. "Councilor, if our business has concluded, I will begin my departure to prepare for our dispatching. Anderfell - your guard will escort you to your lodge."
He didn't wait for permission as a moment later he swept himself out of the chamber, his boots echoing sharply down the corridor.
Hitomi finally spoke, her tone flat and bored. "You will grow to hate him."
"I already do."
She pushed off the pillar, brushing past me without breaking pace. "Come on. I'll show you where you're staying."
As we walked through the corridors, I studied her. She was far shorter than the average Velgrin soldier, and yet she carried herself like someone who could break your arm in less time than it took to blink. Her black hair was now tied back messily - clearly not for fashions sake, but rather obligation. Compared to the men outside, her armor was light, made for speed rather than safety.
"You've been assigned to me?" I asked.
She nodded slightly. "Apperantly."
"And whose idea was that?'
"Haruto. Or maybe the Governor. Perhaps the Moon. Pick whichever makes you feel best."
She moved quickly but without urgency, weaving through servants and guards who bowed to her out of duty rather than respect. Hitomi didn't seem to care either way.
"You don't talk much," I said.
"That's because I don't like talking."
"To me or in general?"
"Yes."
I huffed a quiet sigh. "Wonderful."
"Don't get sentimental. It's just a job." She stopped at a sliding wooden door and slid it open with her foot. "This is where you'll be sleeping."
The room was simple, only having a tatami mat, low table, and paper windows filtering in slight lighting. It was sparse but clean.
"You're used to something far fancier, I'm guessing?" she asked.
"It's fine."
"Good. Less complaining for me to listen to."
She turned to sit at the door.
"Hitomi."
She paused, glancing over her shoulder.
"Why were you assigned to me?"
"Because I'm good at killing people," she said plainly. "And because Kaito hates me."
That made me raise an eyebrow. "He hates you?"
"He hates anyone who isn't loyal to him." She shrugged. "And I'm not."
I glanced at her. "What about me?"
"Huh?"
"Are you loyal to me?"
She looked at the floor for a moment. "As long as I'm paid enough," she took a breath. "and you're not an asshole."
Her bluntness was refreshing.
Or reckless.
Possibly both.
"Kaito has been... active in the south for a long time," she continued. "Too long. He enjoys the power he has. He enjoys how much control he has over people. And most of all, he enjoys not being questioned by anybody."
"And I take it you do?"
"I question everyone." She crossed her arms as she slid to sit against the wall. "And Kaito doesn't like that."
She glared out the window, lowering her voice slightly.
"Everything you've heard about this rebellion... don't assume it's the full story. Just remember; Kaito is in charge of everything. And don't assume that the Major eats his food cleanly."
I held her gaze. "You think he committed atrocities?"
"I think he labels atrocities 'procedure'."
She straightened her back again, back into her indifferent posture as she attempted to sleep.
"Soon you'll see for yourself," she mumbled. "We leave at dawn. Try not to oversleep."
She said something more, too quietly for anyone else to hear.
***
The next morning, the courtyard bustled with preparations - guards loading crates into carriages, securing the mounts and lighting their straps. The horses here were somehow different than Velgrin's. They were sleeker, longer-legged, with intelligent eyes that watched the world around them.
Kaito stood at the front of it all, speaking sharply to his men. When he noticed me approaching, he stiffened, posture straightening as if preparing for inspection. Which of would be expected, I couldn't guess.
"Anderfell," he said. "I hope you rested well."
"Enough."
"We will ride hard today. The roads are safe, but the territory we are entering is volatile."
"Because of the rebels?"
"Because of the filth they've stirred," he corrected.
There was a venom in his tone. It wasn't righteous fury so much as personal subjugation.
I filed the distinction into my memory.
Hitomi quickly joined me, adjusting the straps of her mount. She did not greet Kaito, nor did he greet her.
His jaw tightened at the sight of her. "You're late," he accused.
"No," she replied simply.
Kaito glared at her once more, but said nothing as she mounted her horse. I swung into my saddle as well just moments after. The Major raised his hand.
"Ride!"
The gates of the city opened wide, and our troop surged toward the morning light casted over the open fields.
Hitomi fell into place beside me, her posture relaxed and eyes half-shut as if she were trying to nap while riding.
Kaito rode ahead of us, barking orders while reveling in command as though he wore a crown.
"This is going to be unpleasant," Hitomi muttered.
"Why?"
"Because you're about see what he leaves behind. And because he's proud of it."
She turned her head just slightly toward me.
"Stay sharp, Anderfell. Men like Kaito show no respect towards power. They only fear it. And when they fear something they can't control-"
"They take it out on others."
She smirked. "Good. So you do understand."
Ahead of us, the horizon stretch wide and endless with fields of green, mountain ridges, shrouded in mist, and villages rucked into valleys like hiding spaces.
And somewhere in that landscape lay the soon to be ruins of a rebellion as well as the truths Kaito didn't want anyone to find.