Chapter 30

"Scars that were the wages of an oppressed past bled feelings of vengeful hatred"

~

Sepulchre of the Under-Ground Dungeons,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Jaycob had been born of the Zephanian Clan, but had despised belonging thereto after the knowledge of the corrupt deeds of the men of his tribe had brushed shoulders with his discernment.

If those feats were attributes added to the blood of those wicked ancestors, he would rather be known an orphan void of origin and breed.

Thus, he had decided to eradicate the sur-name inherited by birth at twelve years of age and had instated his grandfather, Oreius' own christened name to be his last.

The men that polluted their hands and names with inhumanity should have been ashamed of their wickedness, but as every treacherous heart deceived itself, they only dived deeper and deeper into the ravines of their trespasses and continued building forts of lies to conceal the blood staining their coat of arms.

Although it was true that the mere exile of his name would not lead to the redressal of his own blood and core, it was his first step down the route of migration away from the cases of his roots.

Further, he knew that if he was known as a survivor of the Zephaniahs besides the lineage of the reigning Arch-Eccleissor, he would be doomed with death for Devland would crave his blood just as he had all those years ago, when he was a decade and two years old.

Stepping into the dimly lit and stone sepulchre wherein the mortals of secret prisoners had been set, he looked down at the meagre and resting corpse of his beloved grandfather, in his arms and wrapped in linens.

He tenderly laid him down and paid his sincere respects.

As the man with dark eyes gathered the potions to embalm the carcase, his heart travelled down the nostalgic paths that led to the day he had become an accomplished Archer ranked among the foremost that had emerged.

He was composed of sweat, slyness, power and innate talents graven upon his bones and had risen rapidly to heights in status, and now he was a finely respected gentle of twenty and seven years.

Once exalted to the nobility of the Chiefs, it was a simpler task to achieve the purpose he had arrived for: meeting his grandfather.

His power Grand Sight was the intrinsic auspies of a Rook, watchtower of the Archer, to amass an overview of the contents lying ahead in battle; the version of this first gift granted his senses to detect the presence of the ones he wished to know the whereabouts of.

The face of his mind would grant him to know in sculptures, the place and setting of such persons as upon a map.

This was a one of his two powers, the part which was not of weaponry. The other auspice that was more oriented to combat was Artillery, which had assisted in the stream of warfare he had chosen.

Thus, he had found Oreius Zephaniah's detainment by Grand-Sight and had proposed to be of service to him before the Regent; and yieldingly so, Jehoram had obliged, since the elderly man was a secret possession and it was beyond the hours of the Regent to personally provide the man sustenance.

And through all of these findings, there was reason wherefore he had wished to seek this man: beyond the affiliation of blood his grandfather had been there that fateful day, a decade and a half heretofore.

He did not desire to allow his mind another journey of recollection to that frightful incident, for it had been ruthless and pulverising.

Jaycob drove both hands through his brownish green hair feeling scattered. He leaned down to tenderly anoint the body with exotic ointments and slowly slid the man's cloak down his cold and rusted shoulder to see the fire scars having eaten the man's back completely in a gruesome display, like the geode of rubies.

There was much history that had left these as a sign upon the man's body and Jaycob knew that he was the reason.

He swallowed slowly before covering the man and continuing the ritual of consecrating the lifeless body of his beloved grandfather.

At a point, he truly felt as if he had no more purpose that his life was thrust forth toward, like an arrow that had skirted past its intended target and was proceeding in aimless flight.

After all these, he had solely climbed these ranks in order to find former Knight Oreius Zephaniah, and now with the man's life passed, Jaycob failed to see more reason to his existence.

It was a clouding feeling of misgivings, that there was none in this world to save his hide but his own self, like a lone wolf without a pack, fated to face the wild and the various threats that it brought to his paws.

After all, prevailing over the graces of the Regent was not as fertile as he had estimated, for the snake that the man wore around his neck in the name of an Arch Eccleissor was spitting venom against Jaycob.

In perceptive truth, the Royal Archer was aware that he had laid all his fairest cards on the table to earn the favour of Jehoram and there wasn't vaguely any left to offer.

He had played to impress Devland as well, but it had served so that the man had sworn absolute hatred against him.

Jaycob was unaware of whether that owed its origin to a potential that the man may have figured that he was a descendant of Oreius', and thereby an Zephanian.

But overhearing of how Devland schemed to murder him was evidence that there were no more odds of manipulating him.

The Archer needed ways to either obliterate the Arch Eccleissor's honours or to inspire further commendation at the hand of the Regent.

As he encased the body, he left a final wistful look before parting.

There was a heavy weight of emotion in his chest that he could not dispel, for there was regret regarding how much more the elderly man deserved than he had been shown; every ounce of love his grandfather had spared him, though he had not shown sufficient reciprocals.

And Jaycob was unable to save this man, for all of his motions and moves had been closely and critically surveyed by Devland.

All of his grandfather's words emerged at the surface of his mind that was rippling with thoughts.

He had read various translations of the prophecy of Judah's Ascendancy and the fifteen warriors and their powers although that was greatly unclear.

It was so known that there were Class-Warriors: a single Queen, two of Bishops, Knights and Rooks, one standing at the East and the other at the West and finally eight Pawns that were but general warriors and not of classes.

Several of these had been born in ancient times and have passed on, a few on the battlefield against the dragons and a few valiantly returned home.

However, there were only a Bishop, a Knight, a Rook and two pawns that have been unknown, or rather, unborn or more precisely, not yet set foot at war before the dragons in their land. And further, there was also the Queen.

Jaycob had found that Jehu was the Bishop of the West and had heard from record that Sable Duvessa was acknowledged the Queen Class-Warrior by a high priestess two and a half decades ago.

After the discernment of his own powers, the Archer had found that he was the Rook of the West of Judah's Army.

Every Class-Warrior was deft with two powers each: one in perception and the other as weaponry. He had found twain gifts as such in Jehu, but the man himself had been unassuming of his powers.

Further, upon realisation that Jaycob's own eyes had been granted Grand Sight as the power of Judgement and Lightning Archery as his power of Weaponry, he had diagnosed that he truly was the Warrior of the West.

The various parts of the prophecy pertinent to the Rook had corresponded with his every odd.

Furthermore, from what his grandfather had revealed to them, it dictated that the Pawn was one that would detect the tread of Death.

From the wild and eldritch behaviour, Jaycob's prudence waged possible contentions as to whether Imogen was of the Pawns mentioned of in the Prophecy.

After all, the circumstances that befell her, such as the prologue of her life being tainted with dishonour, seemed to be as a confirming foretoken that she was indeed another of the Soldiers of Judah's Army.

~