The Queen Pelalandorus Incident

The river ran backwards on the day the Queen vanished. I remember it faintly. To others she was the Queen. To me, in halls unseen, she was just mother. Oh, my beautiful mother. How I miss her so.

But there was no time to reflect on why she was gone. The castle bristled with suspicion and superstition. Vizarin Ylwenothen grabbed my wrist in the darkness. I drew my dirk. “Tis I young sire. Put that away. Danger harkens,” his voice assured me in the darkness of the study. He knew what was coming. All would end bloody.

Down, down, down, we twisted through the castle’s keep. My tiny body just followed him. It would’ve been pointless even if I resisted. The sweet swine stew sloshed in my gut. Vizarin Ylwenothen led me down through every crevice and passage in our fortress. Out the old Woodsmen’s hatch behind the Huzardian tree. We continued on down the path, tripping over every rut.

Down to the sea we seeped. Vizarin Ylwenothen held my arm as he bid farewell to the Verzarigan Guard. As we stumbled onto the barge, a large sailor greeted us with a large outstretched hand covered in calluses and red from the cold.

I inquired of his name. It was Steev, I believe. My young memory of that time is blurred. But I remember hanging on his every word. He told us of his many adventures as he slowly churned the rudder down the river.

Three days passed before we reached our destination. Vizarin Ylwenothen found us four steeds to hasten our escape. We began the journey to the Northern Keep as the snow of winter descended upon us.

It took us eight months as the crow flies to reach the Northern Keep. It was a frightfully cold place. My family’s first palace. Perched upon the top of the Great Amlevian Mountain, where it is said that our great forefather, King Naemen, slew the mighty lion of the mist.

I remember the castle seemed to seep out of the mist as we approached it through a heavy blizzard. At its tall stone gate we were greeted by a strange sight. The lanky, yet well built elite of the Verzarigan Guard assembled outside in nothing but their maroon tartans, leather shoulder armor, and Elandish swords. But it was the image of their captain that was most striking.

The captain was rather average in height, but had a much thicker build. The bright blue tattoos shown through his grayed body hair. His beard forked into two braids dangled from his chin. But most striking was the scar on the left side of his face. It stretched from mid-forehead down to his cheek bone, bisecting his eyebrow along the way. And then there was..

Well, the men called it his Dead Eye. But it was in fact the one given to him by a necromancer surgeon after he lost the original. Apparently when the captain went searching for it after the battle, he found it skewered on his slain foe’s spear. Fortunately the young lad he had slew still had his intact. Thus, the captain plucked it from his corpse.

We lived in the Northern Keep for many years. Most of my youth. It took nine years for the Verzarigan Guard to lead our armies to victory against all that attempted to destroy the realm in the absence of my parents.

I must say in all that time Vizarin Ylwenothen was the most dutiful regent one could ask for. Or so it seemed, until the dust settled and The Council of Nine were able to look more closely into how the Queen vanished.

The downfall of the Vizarin Ylwenothen began on a spring day in 2147. It began with a surprise message from the Batlord Beylar.

My Eskua, Sir Schinavaer, brought the message to the court when Beylar’s necrotic messenger expired at the gate. It was a strange affair to receive a message from the man sworn to kill me. One could only imagine how he had overcome the blackness in his heart from the decades of attempting to destroy his former family. Unfortunately, the man that had been my grandfather was long gone. The bitterness of losing the throne to his own son had driven him mad.

Thus, we were justifiably suspicious when he approached us, claiming that one of our own had betrayed us. But we went to meet Beylar at Qynlinadar, also known as the Sanctuary of the Wizards of the Coast. A mutual meeting place, where our magic wielders were incapable of using their powers, and weapons are forbidden.

13 Yunak 2147

Batlord Beylar entered the chamber, his gray cape sashayed from side to side. The black and red bat emblazoned on the back of his cape seemed to stare into one’s soul.

To be continued…

Thank you for reading my work. If you enjoyed this story, there’s more below. Please hit the like and subscribe button, you can follow me on Facebook, Twitter, and Instagram @AtomicHistorian. To help me create more content, leave a tip or become a pledged subscriber. I also make stickers, t-shirts, etc here.

More from this author: