HOME | DD

Description
Chapter Seven

It wasn't long after their passing that the study became nothing more than a dust collector. It was once used for the prince's education; the king had brought the best scholars from around the land to teach the young lad, and rarely was it used as a hiding spot to scare his mother. The single window offered a glorious view of the castle's sparring grounds for the army and he would often imagine himself down there, defeating all the soldiers with one fell swoop. It wasn't rare that the scholars had to block the view with whatever they could use: a large cloth, often themselves, and once with a bookcase. It wouldn't have mattered if they had built a brick wall; he would have found a way to ignore his teachings and get back to his entertainment. He would see and cheer his father on as the king battled Commander Orlandus while the soldiers were divided on their pick. One face, however, would watch on in awe, no matter the outcome.

You certainly have changed since then, Stanislav, Feragan thought to himself as he stared out the window of the study. The books he had once flipped through had amassed so much dust he feared it would take an eternity to retrieve even one. Feragan ran a finger across the table and did his best to hold in a sneeze as some of the particles snuck up his nose. The parchment that was imported from the Isle of Damars had slowly curled into a crumpled heap; that was the only problem with the Isle's trees. It fought for supremacy over the oak and was often the popular choice for the archers and homebuilders, but failed in the other departments. However, Damars was an ally to Neris and stopped any naval invasion from Trinis, so Feragan did not complain too much.

His eyes continued to stare out at the sparring grounds as a knock came to the open door. "Yes?"

It was one of the nurses from the infirmary, Cila Lunic. She was a meek little woman who was constantly berated by Sabine, but was an excellent healer and well-liked from the soldiers. Feragan put on a small smile. If Sabine isn't too careful, I think someone might become the new head of the infirmary.

"Your lordship, I… I mean, Your Highness!" Cila did a quick bow and almost toppled to the floor.

Well, maybe not.

Feragan turned, continuing to smile. "And a good morning to you. How are the soldiers faring?"

"V-very well, Your Highness! We are treating them with the utmost care, a-and…" Her face turned red and she covered her face. "Forgive me, my King, I'm j-just not used to speaking to one of your position, but Lady Sabine, she was, I mean…"

The King did his best not to laugh and put a hand on her shoulder. "Calm yourself, dama Lunic. You remind me of a certain Commander when we were young. Now, does Sabine require my attendance?"

Cila nodded. "Lady Sabine h-has asked that y-you come to the in… the infirmary when you have the chance. She didn't exactly tell me the reason, but…"

"I'm sure I know, though she can be unpredictable at times. Thank you for telling me, Cila. Tell Sabine I will be down there as soon as I can."

"Of course, Your Highness, I shall tell her right away!" With another quick bow, Cila whipped around and vanished into the hallway, smacking her shoulder against the door frame with a loud bang.

Feragan let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sabine is going to kill her nurses if she keeps sending them to me.

---

Afternoon found the king strolling through the gardens alongside one of his advisors, Grand Duke Ciril. The old man was a brilliant battle strategist and fought alongside Vladislav up until a leg injury ruined his military career during the War of the Cross. When it came to the war at hand, Ciril was not afraid to speak his mind about the kingdom's army, even in front of Feragan or Stanislav. The King found it to be one of his flaws.

Ciril groaned and made his way over to a bench. "Forgive me, young King, but I'm not as amble as I once was. This leg will be the death of me, I know it."

Feragan smirked and sat next to him. He turned to a young servant a few feet away. "Go fetch us some water, and be quick about it." He looked back to Ciril as the boy rushed to the castle. "I assume you did not come all this way to complain about your leg, Velikivojvoda."

"You're just like your father; always wanting to get to the point. Your men have been slacking, my Lord. My informant has told me that Trinis is building their army and are planning on destroying yours. You must tell Commander Orlandus to stop fiddling with the forests and attack the true enemy."

Feragan plucked a blade of grass and wrapped it around his finger. "I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen. Trinis might have a larger kingdom, and they might have a larger army, but they have yet to defeat us. There is nothing to worry about, Ciril."

"You say that now, my Lord, but what will you do once he sells the whole kingdom out? It's in his blood."

"Lieutenant Onni is not his great-grandfather."

"You do not know that."

"And neither do you, Ciril. Commander Orlandus trusts his men with his life, including Lieutenant Onni." Feragan plucked another blade of grass.

Ciril scoffed. "Therein lies the problem. The young Orlandus is blinded by that cursed honor of his. 'To not trust a man goes against my code of honor'… it sickens me. Vladislav would have never allowed that traitor in his army."

"And there lies your problem, prijatelj. You are still listening to the words of a man long since dead, may he rest in peace. Trust me on this, Ciril. All I ask is that you have at least some faith in Lieutenant Onni."

There was silence, then Ciril said, "I heard that Lieutenant Branimir was killed a few days ago," It almost sounded like he was choking.

Feragan gave a nod. "We expect his bo… we expect him to arrive tomorrow. Stanislav has recommended he be buried with high decorations."

"Good, good." Ciril cleared his throat. "I'll extend my stay until after the service is done. He and I were comrades once. He saved my life, and I saved his."

"I shall have a room arranged for you, then." Feragan forced a smile and placed his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Ah, here comes our water."

Balancing a tray with two glasses filled with water with one hand and carrying a plate of expertly-crafted treats with the other, the young servant nimbly turned the corner and knelt before Feragan. "The cook has requested I bring His Highness and Grand Duke his specialty, raspberry tarts. Shall I bring them back?"

"Hm, I have been craving them for quite some time... I suppose one wouldn't hurt." Feragan smiled and grabbed one. "And you, Grand Duke?"

Ciril shook his head and grabbed a glass of water.

"Very well. Take the rest back to the cook, and give him my thanks." He took his glass and watched the boy run off.

"One of your finer servants, I see. What is his tale?"

Feragan took a small sip and cleared his throat. "His parents offered him as payment for unpaid taxes. To my knowledge, he has no name, but he is excellent at following orders. I should recommend him to Stanislav when he returns."

Ciril looked at his glass and grimaced. "Disgusting... Your chefs should know by now that I despise mint leaves!"

"For a veteran of Vladislav's time, you complain more than one should. Lieutenant Isador could teach you a lesson or two."

"Lieutenant Isador... now there's a man I can trust. The Isador family certainly has come a long way these past decades." Ciril gave himself a nod and began to tap a finger along the glass's rim.

Feragan smirked. "I'm glad there's something we can agree on, my friend." He glanced up at the west tower and stood. "I'm afraid we must cut our conversation short, Ciril. Sabine has requested my assembly, and I mustn't let her wait."
Ciril smiled. "Don't apologize to an old man, my Lord. Go on, go on. I shall be in my quarters should you need my needs."

"As always. Until next time, Duke Nikolic."

---

It was not rare to see Sabine Treluc in a foul mood. When she wasn't scolding the soldiers for being stupid enough to get injured on the battlefield, she was yelling at her nurses for their incompetence. When one wasn't properly bandaging a wound, another was giving a soldier the wrong medicine. Were these really nurses, or simply alley rats hoping for shelter and good food?

She pushed black strands of hair from her eyes and flipped through one of the many books piled upon her desk. They were supposedly written by the best doctors in the land... Ridiculous! These fools knew nothing about the human body, certainly nothing that would consider useful to her. Herbs here, how to handle a broken bone there, just how much healing magic one should use... Sabine had to force herself to not throw them into the fire.

She let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair, eyes staring at the figure standing in the doorway. "I see that you decided to come at last, my Liege."

Feragan chuckled and walked into the room, gently closing the door. "Forgive me, I was preoccupied with the Grand Duke. I almost lost track of the time."

"He was in here earlier, complaining about the soldiers' treatment. He said they were in poor condition." Sabine let out a scoff and started to look through another book.

"It wouldn't hurt to give them more blankets, my dear. You know how cold it gets over here."

She gave a slight nod.

"Besides, I'm sure you don't want Commander Orlandus to hear about it. From what I've heard, he has ordered the return of Captain Gerwulf."

The book almost went flying from her hands as she shot up. "Impossible! Does he want the Karis plains to be taken by Trinis?! He has no power of the soldiers in the country as long as he is out fighting."

"And neither do you." Feragan frowned. "You are not in charge of the army while Stanislav is absent; that is Duke Vuleta's responsibility. Yours is overseeing the well-being of the soldiers. Do you understand?"

Sabine knew all too well to talk back to Feragan. "I do, Your Highness. It will not happen again."

"Good. Now, what did you call me down here for?"

"I have discovered something amazing, my Lord. Here." She pulled open a drawer and pulled out a vial containing a dark, red substance. "Do you know what this is?"
Feragan's face twisted and he took a step back. "It looks too dark to be from a human..."

"You are half-correct. From the Guardian we captured a week ago, I started to become curious. So, with a personal sample..." She held up a bandaged finger. "I learned something."

"And... what?" Feragan's eyes were glued to the vial, much to his chagrin.

Sabine smiled. It unnerved the King somewhat whenever she smiled. "I learned that the Guardian's blood syncs perfectly with human blood. It's incredible! If I get enough samples, our army will become unstoppable. Neris will be a legend in the years to come, and..."

"Dispose of it."

"What?"

"You heard me." Feragan's eyes were blazing. "I refuse to have any of my followers become one of them! They are the enemy, Sabine. They took my parents away!" He slapped the vial from her hand. "I don't dare want to see something like that again!"

Sabine had to force herself not to glare. Gripping the arms of her chair, she said in a low voice, "Very well, Your Highness. Forgive me."

Feragan let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes, propping his arm against the wall. "You... you are forgiven. I should not have not acted like a fool."

"Your Highness..." She slowly stood and walked over to him. "You are not looking so well. Your face is beginning to pale."

"It is nothing, really. I haven't been outside, lately, is all..." Feragan tried to take a step and almost stumbled to the floor had Sabine not grabbed him.

Sabine shook her head. "You lie just as bad as Commander Orlandus." She opened the door and looked at two nurses. "Escort His Highness to his room immediately, and do not leave until I arrive."

"Sabine, this is ridiculous..."

"A fever is not ridiculous. I shall be up shortly." She carefully handed him to the nurses and handed one a bottle of medicine. "Give him a small cup of this when you get to his room. Don't mess this up, Lunic." Sabine looked to Feragan. "I will not risk losing you, Your Highness."

Sabine led them to the exit of the infirmary before seeing them vanish around the corner. She rubbed the back of her neck and walked back to the room, ignoring the stares of nurses and soldiers alike. Shutting and locking the door, she leaned against her desk and looked at the shattered vial of blood and glass huddling against the wall. It was not rare to see Feragan act in such a way around anything Guardian-related.

It was a good thing she had kept extras.

Description
Chapter Seven

It wasn't long after their passing that the study became nothing more than a dust collector. It was once used for the prince's education; the king had brought the best scholars from around the land to teach the young lad, and rarely was it used as a hiding spot to scare his mother. The single window offered a glorious view of the castle's sparring grounds for the army and he would often imagine himself down there, defeating all the soldiers with one fell swoop. It wasn't rare that the scholars had to block the view with whatever they could use: a large cloth, often themselves, and once with a bookcase. It wouldn't have mattered if they had built a brick wall; he would have found a way to ignore his teachings and get back to his entertainment. He would see and cheer his father on as the king battled Commander Orlandus while the soldiers were divided on their pick. One face, however, would watch on in awe, no matter the outcome.

You certainly have changed since then, Stanislav, Feragan thought to himself as he stared out the window of the study. The books he had once flipped through had amassed so much dust he feared it would take an eternity to retrieve even one. Feragan ran a finger across the table and did his best to hold in a sneeze as some of the particles snuck up his nose. The parchment that was imported from the Isle of Damars had slowly curled into a crumpled heap; that was the only problem with the Isle's trees. It fought for supremacy over the oak and was often the popular choice for the archers and homebuilders, but failed in the other departments. However, Damars was an ally to Neris and stopped any naval invasion from Trinis, so Feragan did not complain too much.

His eyes continued to stare out at the sparring grounds as a knock came to the open door. "Yes?"

It was one of the nurses from the infirmary, Cila Lunic. She was a meek little woman who was constantly berated by Sabine, but was an excellent healer and well-liked from the soldiers. Feragan put on a small smile. If Sabine isn't too careful, I think someone might become the new head of the infirmary.

"Your lordship, I… I mean, Your Highness!" Cila did a quick bow and almost toppled to the floor.

Well, maybe not.

Feragan turned, continuing to smile. "And a good morning to you. How are the soldiers faring?"

"V-very well, Your Highness! We are treating them with the utmost care, a-and…" Her face turned red and she covered her face. "Forgive me, my King, I'm j-just not used to speaking to one of your position, but Lady Sabine, she was, I mean…"

The King did his best not to laugh and put a hand on her shoulder. "Calm yourself, dama Lunic. You remind me of a certain Commander when we were young. Now, does Sabine require my attendance?"

Cila nodded. "Lady Sabine h-has asked that y-you come to the in… the infirmary when you have the chance. She didn't exactly tell me the reason, but…"

"I'm sure I know, though she can be unpredictable at times. Thank you for telling me, Cila. Tell Sabine I will be down there as soon as I can."

"Of course, Your Highness, I shall tell her right away!" With another quick bow, Cila whipped around and vanished into the hallway, smacking her shoulder against the door frame with a loud bang.

Feragan let out a sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose. Sabine is going to kill her nurses if she keeps sending them to me.

---

Afternoon found the king strolling through the gardens alongside one of his advisors, Grand Duke Ciril. The old man was a brilliant battle strategist and fought alongside Vladislav up until a leg injury ruined his military career during the War of the Cross. When it came to the war at hand, Ciril was not afraid to speak his mind about the kingdom's army, even in front of Feragan or Stanislav. The King found it to be one of his flaws.

Ciril groaned and made his way over to a bench. "Forgive me, young King, but I'm not as amble as I once was. This leg will be the death of me, I know it."

Feragan smirked and sat next to him. He turned to a young servant a few feet away. "Go fetch us some water, and be quick about it." He looked back to Ciril as the boy rushed to the castle. "I assume you did not come all this way to complain about your leg, Velikivojvoda."

"You're just like your father; always wanting to get to the point. Your men have been slacking, my Lord. My informant has told me that Trinis is building their army and are planning on destroying yours. You must tell Commander Orlandus to stop fiddling with the forests and attack the true enemy."

Feragan plucked a blade of grass and wrapped it around his finger. "I assure you that nothing of the sort will happen. Trinis might have a larger kingdom, and they might have a larger army, but they have yet to defeat us. There is nothing to worry about, Ciril."

"You say that now, my Lord, but what will you do once he sells the whole kingdom out? It's in his blood."

"Lieutenant Onni is not his great-grandfather."

"You do not know that."

"And neither do you, Ciril. Commander Orlandus trusts his men with his life, including Lieutenant Onni." Feragan plucked another blade of grass.

Ciril scoffed. "Therein lies the problem. The young Orlandus is blinded by that cursed honor of his. 'To not trust a man goes against my code of honor'… it sickens me. Vladislav would have never allowed that traitor in his army."

"And there lies your problem, prijatelj. You are still listening to the words of a man long since dead, may he rest in peace. Trust me on this, Ciril. All I ask is that you have at least some faith in Lieutenant Onni."

There was silence, then Ciril said, "I heard that Lieutenant Branimir was killed a few days ago," It almost sounded like he was choking.

Feragan gave a nod. "We expect his bo… we expect him to arrive tomorrow. Stanislav has recommended he be buried with high decorations."

"Good, good." Ciril cleared his throat. "I'll extend my stay until after the service is done. He and I were comrades once. He saved my life, and I saved his."

"I shall have a room arranged for you, then." Feragan forced a smile and placed his hand on the old man's shoulder. "Ah, here comes our water."

Balancing a tray with two glasses filled with water with one hand and carrying a plate of expertly-crafted treats with the other, the young servant nimbly turned the corner and knelt before Feragan. "The cook has requested I bring His Highness and Grand Duke his specialty, raspberry tarts. Shall I bring them back?"

"Hm, I have been craving them for quite some time... I suppose one wouldn't hurt." Feragan smiled and grabbed one. "And you, Grand Duke?"

Ciril shook his head and grabbed a glass of water.

"Very well. Take the rest back to the cook, and give him my thanks." He took his glass and watched the boy run off.

"One of your finer servants, I see. What is his tale?"

Feragan took a small sip and cleared his throat. "His parents offered him as payment for unpaid taxes. To my knowledge, he has no name, but he is excellent at following orders. I should recommend him to Stanislav when he returns."

Ciril looked at his glass and grimaced. "Disgusting... Your chefs should know by now that I despise mint leaves!"

"For a veteran of Vladislav's time, you complain more than one should. Lieutenant Isador could teach you a lesson or two."

"Lieutenant Isador... now there's a man I can trust. The Isador family certainly has come a long way these past decades." Ciril gave himself a nod and began to tap a finger along the glass's rim.

Feragan smirked. "I'm glad there's something we can agree on, my friend." He glanced up at the west tower and stood. "I'm afraid we must cut our conversation short, Ciril. Sabine has requested my assembly, and I mustn't let her wait."
Ciril smiled. "Don't apologize to an old man, my Lord. Go on, go on. I shall be in my quarters should you need my needs."

"As always. Until next time, Duke Nikolic."

---

It was not rare to see Sabine Treluc in a foul mood. When she wasn't scolding the soldiers for being stupid enough to get injured on the battlefield, she was yelling at her nurses for their incompetence. When one wasn't properly bandaging a wound, another was giving a soldier the wrong medicine. Were these really nurses, or simply alley rats hoping for shelter and good food?

She pushed black strands of hair from her eyes and flipped through one of the many books piled upon her desk. They were supposedly written by the best doctors in the land... Ridiculous! These fools knew nothing about the human body, certainly nothing that would consider useful to her. Herbs here, how to handle a broken bone there, just how much healing magic one should use... Sabine had to force herself to not throw them into the fire.

She let out a heavy sigh and leaned back in her chair, eyes staring at the figure standing in the doorway. "I see that you decided to come at last, my Liege."

Feragan chuckled and walked into the room, gently closing the door. "Forgive me, I was preoccupied with the Grand Duke. I almost lost track of the time."

"He was in here earlier, complaining about the soldiers' treatment. He said they were in poor condition." Sabine let out a scoff and started to look through another book.

"It wouldn't hurt to give them more blankets, my dear. You know how cold it gets over here."

She gave a slight nod.

"Besides, I'm sure you don't want Commander Orlandus to hear about it. From what I've heard, he has ordered the return of Captain Gerwulf."

The book almost went flying from her hands as she shot up. "Impossible! Does he want the Karis plains to be taken by Trinis?! He has no power of the soldiers in the country as long as he is out fighting."

"And neither do you." Feragan frowned. "You are not in charge of the army while Stanislav is absent; that is Duke Vuleta's responsibility. Yours is overseeing the well-being of the soldiers. Do you understand?"

Sabine knew all too well to talk back to Feragan. "I do, Your Highness. It will not happen again."

"Good. Now, what did you call me down here for?"

"I have discovered something amazing, my Lord. Here." She pulled open a drawer and pulled out a vial containing a dark, red substance. "Do you know what this is?"
Feragan's face twisted and he took a step back. "It looks too dark to be from a human..."

"You are half-correct. From the Guardian we captured a week ago, I started to become curious. So, with a personal sample..." She held up a bandaged finger. "I learned something."

"And... what?" Feragan's eyes were glued to the vial, much to his chagrin.

Sabine smiled. It unnerved the King somewhat whenever she smiled. "I learned that the Guardian's blood syncs perfectly with human blood. It's incredible! If I get enough samples, our army will become unstoppable. Neris will be a legend in the years to come, and..."

"Dispose of it."

"What?"

"You heard me." Feragan's eyes were blazing. "I refuse to have any of my followers become one of them! They are the enemy, Sabine. They took my parents away!" He slapped the vial from her hand. "I don't dare want to see something like that again!"

Sabine had to force herself not to glare. Gripping the arms of her chair, she said in a low voice, "Very well, Your Highness. Forgive me."

Feragan let out a long sigh and rubbed his eyes, propping his arm against the wall. "You... you are forgiven. I should not have not acted like a fool."

"Your Highness..." She slowly stood and walked over to him. "You are not looking so well. Your face is beginning to pale."

"It is nothing, really. I haven't been outside, lately, is all..." Feragan tried to take a step and almost stumbled to the floor had Sabine not grabbed him.

Sabine shook her head. "You lie just as bad as Commander Orlandus." She opened the door and looked at two nurses. "Escort His Highness to his room immediately, and do not leave until I arrive."

"Sabine, this is ridiculous..."

"A fever is not ridiculous. I shall be up shortly." She carefully handed him to the nurses and handed one a bottle of medicine. "Give him a small cup of this when you get to his room. Don't mess this up, Lunic." Sabine looked to Feragan. "I will not risk losing you, Your Highness."

Sabine led them to the exit of the infirmary before seeing them vanish around the corner. She rubbed the back of her neck and walked back to the room, ignoring the stares of nurses and soldiers alike. Shutting and locking the door, she leaned against her desk and looked at the shattered vial of blood and glass huddling against the wall. It was not rare to see Feragan act in such a way around anything Guardian-related.

It was a good thing she had kept extras.