The Queen Pelalandorus Incident

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. Perhaps it was the wind. Others say it was because we were famished. A curse? For having killed her kin. Divine retribution for those we banished. A plague sent by the Vaquarin? For a war that was unfinished.

There was no plan on what to do next. The king was gone, and the heir too young. We were up to our necks. Feeling the pressure crushing our lungs. There were whispers of a hex. Mysterious words on every tongue. A curious circumstance, so vexing. Has her song been sung?

In a wince, I took the young prince to the Hallowed Hold. He did not want to go. I said “You must, your majesty. It is foretold.” But in a way that only a child can scold, he told me, “No, no, no.” His wrist I grabbed hold. Down, down, down we fled through the snow. Chased by the young, the old, and those seeing a moment of weakness unfold.

Down the hill they pursued us. Yet, the Verzarigan Guard held our flanks as we plummeted. Down, down, down to the frozen sluice, we tumbled loose. Onto the waiting barge, we stumbled and tumbled. Oh, woe are the mighty that have been humbled.

The barge shoved off with a mighty heave. The large sailor wiped his nose on his sleeve. My charge asked him, “What is thy name?”

“Aye, thine name ist Steev, me lord,” the barrel-chested bargeman answered as he took a swig from his mead-filled skin. The cinnamon curry and halibut mist seeped through his beard in the cold winter’s air.

“And where are you taking us, Steev,” I inquired of the mariner.

“As far as the river takes us, sir. Perhaps you and the lad will find a steed to take you to safety,” Steev assured us.

“I hope so, Steev. I hope so.” I said as my mind drifted away to thoughts of where the boy’s mother could be. Perhaps, captured by the Woodsmen. Or Black Falcon raiders from across the Iron Sea. No matter who they are, we will see them bleed.

23 Aktitum 2135

It has now been eight months since the disappearance of Queen Pelalandorus. The sun shatters the trees as the breeze strips away more leaves. The Verzarigan Guard continue their search for the queen.

They swept the forests. Turning over every hut and toadstool of the Woodsmen. Their women flooded the cities pleading innocence and begging for relief from their grief.

Captain Refinious took a patrol to the land of the trolls, and that accursed vagrant, the Batlord Beylar. And nothing.

Despite my advice against it, we enlisted the help of the Paladin Patrol. I still believe those mercenaries have something to do with the Queen’s disappearance.

30 Aktitum 2135

We have arrived at the Northern Keep. We arrived last night, but it was too late to write. We awoke today from a much-needed sleep.

The young prince has accepted the unfortunate reality. We may never find his mother. Such a sorrowful moment. A queen like her, there could be no other. For as long as I live, I will attempt to make amends.

I will travel to the end of this…

“That’s enough counselor. I needst here no more,” the judge decreed as he raised his hand.

“Vizarin Ylwenothen, do you know what that object is in front of Maester Galinfohz?” The judge inquired of Vizarin Ylwenothen.

“I apologize, my lord, I am unfamiliar with such an object,” Vizarin Ylwenothen answered shakily, for he knew exactly what was in front of his Maester. Yet, he did not know why the boy-king, he had yet to accept that the man that now ruled Wrelmaeria had grown. He still saw the frightened boy whose wrist he grabbed all those years ago on the night his mother disappeared.

Why a dragon’s eye? Why waste a Seeing Stone on matters so old? Much less a jade one at that. What are they accusing me of jealousy, deceit, or impropriety?

We already found the culprits long ago. The shifty Bear Battalion, those mercs, I told King Zurandous not to trust them. Never trust a mercenary to do more than a mercenary’s work. They belong on the front lines. Fodder for our foes. Not in the comfort of our castle walls.

“That, there is a jade Dragon Stone, Vizarin Ylwenothen. Place your hands on it, and we shall know the truth of Queen Pelalandorus’s disappearance. You see, we have it on good authority that the official account is not the whole truth. Now, put your hands on the orb,” The judge commanded.

Vizarin Ylwenothen placed his hands on the orb.

“Firmly,” the sorceress Qunwallen demanded as she stared into Vizarin Ylwenothen’s eyes.

Vizarin Ylwenothen slid his sleeves down and grabbed hold of the stone. As his flesh made contact, he was locked in. Locked into the stone’s trance. His head cocked back, body stiff as the boards from the Huzardian forest. And it began.

Lights streaming from his eyes. Figures dancing on the ceiling of the hall. Visions of memories past.

“Inkana, veronadis, gervonai, juquinaw, myrishinata…” The sorceress Qunwallen chanted, and chanted some more, until. Until the moment came. The moment of truth.

“Murmer the Silent step forward. You know what to do?” The sorceress looked Murmer in the eye and asked.

Murmer nodded silently. With tears in his eyes, he cupped the Vizarin’s ears. Holding his mouth wide open for the Vizarin’s memories to flow through, the court watched in rapt attention as Queen Pelalandorus approached the Vizarin. Closer, closer, closer. Finally, she kissed him.

“You see now, that wasn’t so bad. Now, if only my husband kissed me that way. But if he did, I wouldn’t need you. Now. On your knees Lord Ylwenothen. You must earn your keep if you are to be my husband’s Vizarin. If you do well, I’ll ensure Hizonadyn makes an early retirement.”

“Move forward sorceress, with haste. We haven’t got all day.” The judge ordered.

“Yes, my liege,” Qunwallen began again. “Inkana, veronadis, gervonai, juquinaw, myrishinata…” moving forward until the fateful night of the queen’s disappearance.

The court watched years of a secret love affair between the queen and the Vizarin. Until…

“Stop, stop. There,” the judge demanded.

The court watched as Vizarin Ylwenothen snuck into the bedchamber of Queen Pelalandorus.

Stranding on her bed, straddling her, the Vizarin pulled the white Orc’s bane dagger from beneath his left sleeve. Kneeling, and finding her carotid artery, he shoved the needle-like dagger into her neck and sat back.

He watched silently as the gray magic did its work. First, the cursed dagger turned her to swine, just as the wizard Llymilvon promised. Then from there, it was simple.

While she was still sleeping, he slit her throat, threw her over his shoulder, and made his way to the kitchen.

The audience gasped in horror as the Vizarin Ylwenothen quartered her like any other pig, and threw the pieces in the cook’s cauldron. The sorceress moved the memory forward again.

Now, the audience wretched in horror as the Vizarin, the prince, and the Verzarigan Guard feasted on her stew the next morning.

The room fell silent as Qunwallen pulled Murmer away from the Vizarin. Then she pulled the Vizarin from the Dragon Stone.

“And you see now my lords and ladies of the court why we have convened this tribunal today,” Maester Galinfohz said as he stood to address the court.

Vizarin Ylwenothen sat limp in his chair as the Maester spoke. Unaware of the unintended confession he had just made.

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