Tales of Xyanthia: Part Four

This is a dual collaberation story with DarkRen and myself, Part Three is HERE, if you haven’t read it yet. His sections will be in Violet and mine will be in Blue. And, a shameless plug, just in case you haven’t started reading this at all and want to start at the beginning, the first part is HERE

Renyck takes some moments to reply to this. Though he thought himself proof against another shock he is again overwhelmed. But still he finds his tongue and manages a reply to Jerrin. “Sir I am honored, but surely you must know I am but a squire. I am not of this world.. I did not even know this place was real until I did step into it.”

And in so much lies the truth, though he is a harsh critic of himself. Though not yet knighted, he has shown valor in aiding his mentor. He has been a steadfast young man and brave in the face of danger. Even now, where some might think themselves mad he battles his own disbelief and remains coherent where a weaker man might fall to some unhinged madness.

He lowers his eyes to the book he holds. A book of stories, featuring the world in which lives the fair Xyanthia, first daughter of King Jerrin, ruler over the mystic land of Na’tarria. Stories that he has read and have sunk into his mind with ideals of knights in shining plate who ride forth with gusto to confront and right those wrongs that would dare mark this beauteous land.

“What of great Yal’el? What of Gregor? Fastram, Yoris and Sir Tandal? Surely they would be better than I to secure the safety of Xyanthia.” Renyck doth carefully protest. These names and more he has read in this book, all belonging to grand champions of that which is right and good.

Lord Jerrin arches a brow as Renyck begins to speak, letting the young man say what it is in his mind before he responds. “Your humility speaks well of you, Master Renyck. But there is more to this than you realize, more than those you mention might even guess. Noble valiants all, they still are not those to whom this quest.. this challenge belongs to.” He turns then, his back showing the tension, strong muscles that knot with the burden deep in his heart. Walking briskly to the desk, he steps around it and behind, opening a drawer to retrieve a box. It is a plain box, upon first glance, yet when he places it on the desk before Renyck, the mahogany wood gleams from years of loving care, the name upon it in gold, this is her box of keepsakes.

Reverently, carefully, Lord Jerrin opens the box. Perhaps it might seem intrusive to do so, and surely the look of denial upon Renyck’s face shows his own respect for the secrets that this box might hold. And yet his Lord does not look up to see, lost in his own thoughts, his own urgency as he carefully lifts a letter, the fine, elegant script of the Lady Xyanthia. “I cannot ignore the heart of my daughter, I cannot. Even though it is a fathers’ duty to see her well matched, and yes, I know of the men who have come before. But as she believes in you, so you have proven yourself to me. Now what is left is for you to prove such my people.”

With a heavy sigh, the proud, yet kind man sits heavily upon the chair behind him. The missive falling as a feather might, upon the desk, the perfumed writing filling the air, rose petals long since dried that fill the box, familiar in their faded silver color. “In this task, it is incumbent that it be a man who is unknown, one whose features the wyrm will not recognize. Our wizards have shown that their scrying stone has invaded our lands, identified our peoples, it is why you were called, why you are here. Why you must not fail.” At this, Lord Jerrin lifts his eyes to Renyck, shrewd, yet showing the love of a father, respect from one man to another. “So now it is left to you, Master Renyck, will you take this challenge?”

Renyck’s jaw firms when this is asked of him. So many questions remain.. so much uncertainty.. and fears.. yes. He is brave, but not foolishly so with unknown dangers looming on the horizon. But despite all of this, his words are not long delayed. “Yes, Milord. You have but to speak deeper upon my challenge and I shall meet it to the best of my ability.” he responds solemnly, dipping in a slight bow to Jerrin.

“That is good. But the time for a full explanation is not quite yet. Time is of the essence, but to go unprepared would be folly. Come with me and we shall see to your preparation.” With that Jerrin does rise and sweep around his desk, motioning for Renyck to follow in his wake. He does, of course, but as the room is left and they traverse the hall he speaks.

“Will this be gaining of proper armor, Lord?” Renyck asks, a hint of excitement in his voice. To know the steadfast weight of proper plate his dream. As close as he has touched were secret times when he would slip his mentors helm on, though it was a size too big for him at the time.

Jerrin wears a lightly amused smile as he shakes his head in partial answer. “No, what you wear will suffice. Look past its lightness, for it has been specially crafted for you and shall protect you equally well as a bulky suit of plate would. And, in some ways, more so” And though he spoke not, Renyck looks down at the well-tooled leathers and touches them. Strange that they feel no different from the more drab leathers that are his common garb for battle. “Then all I am missing is a sword.” Renyck says, looking up at the King’s back. “Yes, and that is just what you shall have.” the King responds.

Part Five is ready, to read it, click HERE