A Short Tale of King William Chastaine

At the age of one-hundred and seventeen, the still stoic; white bearded King looked at the empty hall. It would be only hours until his oldest son, Sir Vallond Chastaine, would assume the role of ruler. The one-hundred-year war finally came to an end with the surrender of Chief Sorcerer Execs, by the blade of the king himself. Only a few weeks passed since that final battle against the rogue armies led by the misguided magi. The natural born magic users of the Northern Temples sought to end the peace of the lands by violence. Their motivations were mixed; some by religious means, some political, others were personal. All were deadly.

The old but not frail, King William, stood at the steps of his throne and flashes of memories began to stream in his mind. Some joyous, some horrific. He was only a boy of sixteen when his father, the former King Sandefor Chastaine brought the ally nations together to fight against the Northern Temples, forcing young William to lead armies into a war no one prepared for. When done one prepare for a war of such a scale? For one-hundred years, William pushed offensive lines forward, fortified positions, lost battles, lost soldiers; the victories tasted bittersweet on the battlefield. It wasn't until his return to his home where he witnessed the assassination of his father on the very steps he stood where he vowed to bring an end to the ally nation's sole enemy and finally bring an end to this strife.

A breeze hit his cheek; the cool morning air flowed through the opened windows of his castle's Great Hall. His muscular physique was outlined by his royal family garbs. He looked back at the empty Queen’s throne. He couldn’t remember the last time his late, beautiful wife, sat at that chair by his side. This war took so much from him.

A holographic screen emerged from his throne chair. “Dad,” a man’s voice came through. The king walked and sat to see the face of his son, Vallond. “The guests are starting to arrive, and the town’s people are starting to gather.” He ended with a smile.

“Tell your siblings to get ready and inform the guards and staff to start the festival.” His voice, deep and powerful, yet loving and sincere.

King William walked through the crowds with his children by his side. His garbs and traditional light leather armor were bright in purples and blues. His family’s gladius hung sheathed off his left hip, while his other family weapon, a black Desert Eagle pistol bearing the family crest on the handle lay holstered on his right side. The merge of old and new technologies in weaponry found its harmony here and across the lands. His children wore various colored garbs with black leather armor pieces and their favorite weapon of choice on their sides; the youngest chose his favorite dagger, a present from his grandfather. Five siblings in total, they wore their garbs with pride and honor. Vallond wore all white garbs with black heavy armor pieces. He was to perform “The Rite” this day. A tradition of combat handed down for as long as the Chastaines have been in power. Although modified for the times, the trial still had Vallond slightly nervous. The history of the family has been the bringer of the peace, which sometimes had to be fought for.

Various holographic screens appeared on outdoor light fixtures across the festival grounds. “Please make your way to the arena, the passage of Sir Vallond will begin in one hour.” The soft woman’s voice ended; King William turned to his children. “You all proceed to your seats; I need to talk to your brother for a moment.” He spoke and smiled as they all nodded and wished their older brother good luck. In unison, Vallond's brothers and sisters stood straight, "for victory," they softly spoke. "And for peace," Vallond responded with a smirk.

Sir Vallond stood in the middle of the arena. By his side, Corpious, his father’s most trusted General and champion. “Remember what we taught you all these years and you’ll do fine Sir Vallond.” The battle hardened General spoke with poise as he unsheathed his kopis. “For victory, and for peace!” Sir Vallond responded, clanging his sword together with Corpious’s. The crowd fell to a low hum as Victor Malik, King William’s battle mage appeared from a dense smoke conjured by himself.

“Sir Vallond, you are about to perform ‘The Rite’ as is the tradition in your family and this kingdom. You will face a challenge together as a team, then face head-to-head as foes. It has been a pleasure to watch you grow into the warrior, leader, and soon to be King. Your father didn’t receive his chance at ‘The Rite’ as he earned his on the battlefield and with the sorrowful murder of your grandfather Sandefor. But alas, I know he is watching with the gods and grinning from ear to ear. For victory, and for peace Sir Vallond!” With those last words he floated backwards and began to whisper under his breath. With his fists clinched, he quickly shot both hands open and the ground in front of them began to shake. Rocks began to mold together with sand and dirt. It took shape into a humanoid creature. Before the two warriors were a pair of earth elementals, conjured beasts with immense strength but slow agility. The two creatures stomped their way towards Vallond and Corpious. With their swords drawn each combatant danced as blow after blow hit true to their targets. Vallond's sword began to glow an emerald green light as he parried and struck in a beautiful display of combat perfection. Corpious's weapon too emitted a green light, slightly brighter than Vallond's. Powerful magics and powerful spirits were at play. Precise strikes hit the throat, behind the kneecap, vital weaknesses were exposed quickly as the two cut down the two large elementals with ease. The crowd grew louder as the final hits were struck sending the earth elementals back as dirt and rocks. Now the true test comes for Sir Vallond; one on one combat with General Corpious.

“I’m going to make you work for it Vallond!” Corpious shouted above the crowd’s roars. “Wouldn’t expect less General!” Vallond shouted back.

Vallond walked in, Corpious assumed a defensive stance. Vallond shot a quick stab to Corpious’s lead hand which he easily dodged. This was a test on who can make the other yield first. Some blood may be spilled, but this was no longer a test to the death as it was centuries ago. This was a public display of prowess, courage, and leadership. Corpious shifted his body in towards Vallond at a forty-five-degree angle, bringing his sword level hoping to score a quick cut on Vallond’s forearm or bicep. It was met with a parry and Vallond swung his body around and aimed his sword at Corpious’s heel. Corpious rolled away and brought open an energy shield emerging from a device on his wrist. It blocked a forward thrust from Vallond’s blade. The two swords at play grew a brighter green. The two danced back and forth with incredible dexterity and accuracy. That was until General Corpious let a very small window open for the tip of Vallond’s blade to cut perfectly on his thumb and wrist, sending it slightly to the inside of his body, putting him off center balance for a split second. Vallond used the opportunity to slide his blade up to Corpious’s neck. He kicked his knee, driving Corpious to the ground. A wave of green energy sent from Vallond's blade shook the general further into the hard dirt. The general grinned from his prone position as a trickle of blood emerged from his nose. "Do you yield Corpious, general of this kingdom, and trusted friend of royal family?" Vallond's words were deep as the crowd hushed to hear the response. "I yield Sir Vallond, son of King William Chastaine, and the next rightful king of our city." Screams of joyous thunder vibrated the ground the two men stood upon. Vallond reached out a hand to aid the warrior up. The audience stood and cheered as King William made his way to the arena. The three men stood proud as the king hugged his son.

The Great Hall was full of the townspeople. They stood packed around the front of the throne. Those who couldn't make it in the mighty halls stood and watched from the open windows. The king silenced the crowd by lifting his hand up. A series of “shushes” echoed the crowed. The king spoke. “These old eyes have seen the best and worst of times this kingdom has endured.” He turned to his son. “I know your mother smiles upon us this day.” He smiled. “It is with great pleasure that I relinquish my title as king of Chastaine city to my oldest son who shall hence forth rule this land. I present to you King Vallond Chastainse.” The crowd cheered from within the walls and roars of people clapping could be heard outside as the ceremony was being broadcasted from the holographic screens scattered across the city.

King Vallond gently sat at the throne, he gazed at the crowd and smiled at his younger siblings as he took a deep breath in.

The new king stood again and addressed his people. The mixture of elves, dwarves, humans, exotic races of catfolk and dragonborn all watched and grew silent. “I will try and be the best king I can be. I will make mistakes, as no one is perfect, but know that I will always put the people first before anything else. Let’s celebrate!” The crowd rose their glasses. “For Victory!” The king shouted raising his full glass. “And For Peace!” The townspeople exclaimed in return.

That night King Vallond retired to his new room and wing of the castle. His familiar group of assistants followed him to his new position with all the benefits that may come with it. Following the royal son through the years brought trust between him and his aides. The former living king William Chastaine took his leave to his new living quarters, a large house outside the castle where he could live out the remaining years of his life in peace. Many choices were made this night. Corpious decided to leave as champion. His replacement was the hero of the battle of the mountain orcs; a fierce war fought against a powerful tribe of orcs who allied with the sorcerer Execs during the final months of the hundred-year war. Only a few years older than King Vallond, and a trusted friend, they were set to continue to bring peace and fight side by side if needed.

As William and Corpious slept that night in their new homes, they both were struck with the same strange dream.

A woman’s voice, soft and at a whisper spoke to them. “You must travel back to the grounds where you struck down Sorcerer Execs. Your mission is not yet complete.”

Both men awoke with sweat upon their brow. What did I leave unfinished? William thought to himself. William stared at the open window adjacent to his large bed. The cool night's breeze eased his mind as he stretched his neck from side to side. He took quick notice at his sword and armor laying perfect on a stand. "The last time you woke from a slumber like that, you rode into battle within an hour." He told himself. Stretching his shoulders, he walked towards the stand. "Time to wake Corpious."