One Last Time

Once upon a time, I wrote a few chapters for a story that I was interested in telling at the time. Even though I hadn't added to the story in a long time, I thought that finishing it would make a good special series for the season of Summer. So, I posted those chapters, but now remember that there was a reason I hadn't touched the story in a while. So, I'm completely over FFFL for now. If I see any interest in it, I might pick it up next year, but for now, I feel it would be easiest to start a new story that can hold my interest long enough to finish it. So, I bring you the first chronicle of a fateful event referenced in the history of Resta and Heron's Summer Festival.

Long ago, in the early months of Resta's existence, celebrations of unity were extremely common. It was easy to be caught in the revels of the marriage between Hem Maloran, the king of Coronos and Ilia Marle, the last surviving heir to Necros. With the combination of Karla Blackstone's templars and the king's spellwarriors united under the same banner, this marked a new beginning for the people of both lands. This jubilee swept through the kingdom, but could not penetrate the home of the new royal family.

Gaius Maloran had become used to many things during the Brokamac Occupation, but none of those experiences had come close to preparing him for life inside a castle. Sunburst Keep, as his father would call it, was meant to be a symbol of strength for people who were used to being downtrodden. But living there only filled him with anxiety. The massive responsibility that establishing a new kingdom inflicted on the Maloran family was one that Hem had always meant to take for himself. However, that didn't seem to stop many of Resta's subjects from coming to him with their questions. He hated it, but not as much as he hated the hopelessness that came before Resta. His longtime comrades had grown weak from years of war while his new compatriots from the former state of Necros brought fears of a disease he didn't understand to the court. These two peoples needed to come together to survive, which turned out to be much more work than he could ever imagine.

As a spellwarrior, Gaius had been sure of everything he did. He had many enemies to defeat in their oppressors and no one to question his actions but his father. But as a prince of Resta, his magical skills were meaningless. He was now expected to be a symbol for a nation that hadn't yet found its direction. These thoughts often brought him to long fits of contemplation in the courtyard. He would often sit by one of the ponds and feed the ducks, while intensely threatening any who disturbed him with the most powerful of curses. Hem Maloran had tried to make excuses for Gaius on many occasions, but one day, he could no longer tolerate his teenage son terrifying their subjects. He visited the boy early in the morning with an unreadable look on his face.

"We need to have a talk," the king had said simply for he was always quick to get to the point.

"My ears are yours, father," Gaius replied insincerely.

"I have worked hard to build a kingdom in which everyone in the eastlands can defend their neighbors, both from northern aggression and southern attrition. Do you not see the importance of Resta?"

It took a conscious effort for Gaius to avoid rolling his eyes and he only made the effort because Hem wouldn't tolerate any disrespect from him. He shook his head slowly and mumbled his response.

"I understand why Resta needs to exist, father. I just don't understand why we have to change to protect our people."

Hem sat down next to his son and wrapped his arm around his shoulder. "Gaius, we have to change because no one can better meet the needs of our people than us. I'm sure you can understand that our strength is needed to protect them, but it will never be enough. We also need the wisdom to turn our enemies into friends and our worn down citizens into an enlightened civilization if we are to survive. I know you possess that wisdom, but you must be willing to use it for the good of Resta!"

Hem sat in silence after his speech, hoping for Gaius' introspection to finish what he had started. Gaius could see the logic in his father's words. Without the wisdom to truly lead the Restans, what was to stop them from resorting to the savagery of their former Pyrisian masters? Conversely, without the strength that the Malorans had brought to the eastland in the first place, who was to stop the Pyrisians from returning? The burden on their family was immense, but Gaius couldn't think of anyone else who could handle it.

The prince's ruminations were interrupted by the arrival of a messenger that he recognized as Arnold Desmond, a warrior who proudly participated in Coronos' struggle for independence. Now a general of Resta's newly established Royal Army, it was unusual to see him delivering a message, but it didn't take long for the reason for his presence to become clear.

"A response from the... Heronites, I see," Hem murmured as he read through the letter. When he finished reading, he turned to his son. "As it happens, your transition to statesman will be a lot slower than I originally planned, my son."

In response to Gaius' unspoken inquiry, Hem handed over the letter and allowed him to read the following words:

"To the Maloran Family, Current Rulers of the Eastlands..."

Gaius frowned at the introduction immediately as he noticed the omission of the kingdom's name and the inclusion of the phrase "current rulers." It became immediately apparent that the northerners didn't take them as seriously as they'd have liked.

"We have received your notice regarding the formation of the kingdom you refer to as Resta and feel that a message from all of Heron is necessary to respond to your declarations in kind. As such, these words represent the feelings of all three of our noble houses."

These words seemed to contradict his original feelings. The Heronites were taking them seriously after all. Could this mean that the message opened with an intentional sign of disrespect?

"Let it be known that the houses of Heron acknowledge the cruel treatment visited upon your people by our Brokamac brethren and we hold no ill will towards you for doing what had to be done to assert the will of the Necrosian and especially Coronosian peoples. Although the lords of Heron all mourn the Brokamac, their legacy is anathema to values of our own accord."

Gaius frowned at these words, sensing a deliberate effort to avoid an official apology.

"This is a time of new beginnings not just for the East, but for the North as well. As Lords of the newly confederated state of Heron, we share your ambition to change the ways of the past. That is why, in the spirit of mutual growth, we propose what we hope will be a symbolic event for both of our countries: a final tournament in the tradition exposed to your people by the Brokamac.

Gaius nearly shredded the paper at the very suggestion. How could they seriously be expected to repeat the tortures of their past as a friendly gesture? He looked to his father uncertainly, but he only nodded, willing him to finish.

"It is our hope that with twenty-four brave Restan warriors and eight more from each of our houses facing each other in friendly competition, we can produce an event that will both heal the wounds between our countries and please Lord Chaos. Should you accept our invitation, we would happily defer to any arrangements you make for the tournament.

Signed, 

Torvald Piers

Altan Karn

Borna Crowmont

Lords of Heron"

Gaius handed the letter to his father and sighed. "What do they take us for? They don't really expect us to accept this challenge, do they?"

"Why not?" the king said with a scowl. "That is exactly what I wish to do."

"Father!" Gaius exclaimed in shock. "I don't think this is as friendly of an invitation as they would have us believe!"

"It does not matter," Hem said while standing up with a tone of finality. "They issued this challenge in response to a declaration that we would meet any challenge. Whatever their intent, refusing is not an option!"

"Shall I gather our warriors, my king?" General Desmond asked.

"No," the king said in response. "I shall leave the assembly of our champions to Prince Gaius. I believe this tournament will provide a measure of the motivation he's desperately lacked as of late. I know you will make me and your kingdom proud, my son."

Gaius nodded reluctantly to his father. While he didn't look forward to meeting more Heronites, rallying people to fight them was what he once lived for. He still had little sense for what he could do for Resta as its first prince, but a tournament was well within his ability to handle. With a smile that showed more confidence than he had felt in a long time, he responded:

"I will find the best fighters I can and together we will show the Northerners why we continue to exist!"