Doubt

At the break of dawn, the children approached me once more, their eager faces aglow with anticipation as they gathered around me by the stream. With youthful fervor, they beset me with their inquiries: 'What was it like to bear the title of the First Knight of a Great House? How might we aspire to such noble heights? Pray, instruct us, wise elder!' They would plead.

And each time, ere I spun the yarn of my storied life for their eager ears. I would set aside my fishing reel, raising my gaze to meet theirs, and thus I would begin with these hallowed words.

"Honor your Lord. Safeguard the lineage. Lay down your life for your people... The Ancestor demands no less."

Excerpt from the 'Archive of Lost Pages' — A page found on the year 311 Elemental calendar.

-----

Kaydin looked at him with watery green eyes, looking oh-so pitiful.

Troan's eyes twitched, and then he cleared his throat and said. "Well—I'll have to speak to my mother first. I may have a change of plans depending on the outcome of our meeting."

"Yes!"

He pumped his fist in the air, his gloomy aura disappearing in an instant.

Troan rolled his eyes. "I have not yet agreed."

"So long the chance is there!" Kaydin grinned.

Troan scrutinized him for a brief moment and then he nodded.

"Noted... Well, if that is all, I will be taking my leave now." Troan said, giving them one last look.

Seeing their content faces, he turned around.

He looked for Wriggler and found him seated on the floor far away from Kaydin's guard.

He caressed his arm with a wronged expression.

"Are you done fooling around, Wriggler?" He inquired neutrally, casting a glance his way but not stopping his pace.

Wriggler did a half-shrug.

"For now."

He winced as he pushed himself back up and followed him out the door.

"I will go meet Mother now."

Troan paused for a moment looking thoughtful, before proceeding. "I need you elsewhere. Depending on the results of our conversation, I will either be accompanying Kaydin to the Jubul or heading eastward to complete my mission.

"In the meantime, I need you to gather my things and purchase some travel supplies. I will meet with you later—in a few hours or so."

"Aye aye," Wriggler affirmed with his usual crooked smile.

"I got it, boss. But I'll go grab some grub first if you don't mind?" He said, already walking away backward.

"That's fine."

Troan nodded in understanding.

"Try not to press her too much, okay?!" Wriggler advised, now ten steps down the hallway. "I got an idea of what you wanna discuss with your mum! So be careful! She's one of the scariest people I've met in this world so far!"

With that, he turned and broke into a jog the opposite way.

Troan gazed upon Wriggler's fading form thoughtfully for a moment, before quietly turning on his heels and walking down the hallway.

...

After they had both gone out of the throne room, Kaydin's eyes shifted from the door back to his mother, a frown beginning to mar his face.

"I told you he wouldn't be interested in the throne, Mother. He seems a bit distant, but he's not cold. He still cares for me!"

"Yes. Perhaps, I was wrong to suspect him." She remarked with a small sigh of relief. "But then again I would not be a good mother if I didn't worry for you, son."

Kaydin's lips pressed tight still.

"It was never right to doubt him!"

Hersana eyes softened. "I know you love your stepbrother and I am happy he cares for you."

She then looked away as her expression morphed into a slight frown.

"But Commander Marl's actions have proven that a Chosen can be evil. By threatening war, he has tainted the millennia-long reputation upheld by the Silver Sacrity. I had to meet Lord Troan myself to learn if he was different—to see if he could be trusted."

Kaydin ran a hand through his hair with a light groan before letting out a weary sigh.

"I know, Mother. I'm sorry for yelling at you."

At first, her expression softened, but then she stood straighter as her gaze hardened.

"You are soon to be king, son. It will take a lot of stress off my shoulders if you weren't so...impressionable."

He turned away with a bitter smile.

"No need to be soft on me, mother; I know you think I'm naive." His shoulders slumped a little. "That I am suggestible."

"Kaydin..." She called softly with worry in her eyes.

"I know I may not be as intuitive as father, nor possess Troan's foresight." He paused, before standing straight and squaring his shoulders.

"But I understand people. I know what they want. I will be a good king, Troan said so himself."

Hersana smiled lightly and beckoned him closer.

With long strides, he approached, and when he was within arms reach on the stairway. She brought her hands forward and caressed his face.

Her eyes were clear and full of the hard love of a mother.

"Learn to be cautious, and less impulsive. Do that, if not for yourself then for the people you would rule over. And let us pray that 'good' would be enough to get us through the coming storm."

With that, she let go and turned away, heading for the door from which she came, leaving Kaydin to mull over her words.

...

Guest dining room.

Around a large table filled with plates of finished and half-eaten meals, a few people lounged as they talked.

Frozen waved a bone at Jigimon with a curious expression.

"What are you classed as anyway? An engineer? An arcanist? I notice you carry a flintlock sometimes and even possess a rifle. What do you specialize in, Specialist Jigimon?"

"Versatility," Jigimon replied simply, leaning back with a suave smile.

Then she dropped her tankard and proceeded to stretch comfortably on her chair.

"I don't see the need to be fixated on one specialty when I can be more productive knowing a fair amount of varying skills."

Frozen paused and then snorted derisively.

"In battle, you wouldn't fair well against someone specialized. You shouldn't be on the frontlines of any battle."

Jigimon rolled her eyes.

"That, my Lady—is why I always play a supporting role." She said in a carefree manner as she rubbed her belly in bliss.

Frozen sighed and looked at her again.

"And arcana?! Really? It is a flimsy magic system! It can't compare to the old way of magic. Arcanists can't hold their own against a true mage!"

She declared and Jigimon let out a burp.

"Excuse me."

She sniffed and said. "I only know a spell or two in arcana, so I can hardly be called an arcanist. However, the declaration that an arcanist can't hold their own in a fight against a mage is—unfounded."

Frozen raised a doubtful brow. "What do you mean?"

"While the old magic system allows for more powerful and dynamic spells, arcanists leverage from a faster casting time and multi-casting, which is unique to them."

Jigimon informed as her eyes drifted to a piece of roasted meat that was kept for Wriggler. Then she tore her eyes away and looked at Frozen.

"In the end, this argument is just like the sword versus the spear, which is the greater weapon. It simply depends on who wields them."

Lurin hesitantly raised her hand and said. "Um, you didn't mention that mages can silently cast spel—"

"It's the spear obviously!" Frozen asserted, interrupting Lurin.

At that, Capt. Vahn who had recently arrived with Lt. Ulan, looked up from his meal with a mix of disbelief and indignation.

"How can you say that?!" He blurted out.

Frozen shifted her gaze to him, and Ulan, who ate by his side, let out a sigh.

"To dare utter those words. When the Great Ancestor. Your very ancestor! Beat back the spawns of Navethian gods and lead Luen to victory with a sword in hand! For his legendary feats, he was deified by the Var dragons!"

He pounded a fist against the table with an indignant fury in his eyes. "I will not let you demean our sacred symbol!"

Frozen's eyes turned to slits.

"You will mind your tone with me, guard captain." She cautioned with a hard gaze.

"I may be your guard. But I am still a nobleman who once served under Lady Eskela the 'Dragon Whisperer'!" Vahn declared, glaring at her without backing down. "I deserve to be accorded some respect!"

The atmosphere became charged as Frozen and Vahn were locked in a stare-down.

"Milady..." Valerie pleaded softly, and Ulan placed a gentle hand on Vahn's shoulder.

Vahn let out a hard sigh before begrudgingly returning to his meal.

Frozen watched him icily for a moment before slowly looking away.

At this moment, Wriggler stumbled into the room.

"Woah," he exclaimed, looking at the table. "What's with tense mood? Are we about to throw some hands in here? Well, I hope my share of meat wasn't eaten. Otherwise, someone is about to catch my hands." He said, shooting Jigimon a suspicious look.

"Five minutes, Wriggler," Jigimon said, hanging her neck on the backrest to look back at him. "The meat was five minutes away from salvation!"

He ignored her and strode forward while eyeing the table curiously.

Wriggler saw a good serving of meat sectioned off for him, and a half-grin grew on his face.

He then took a free chair between Jigimon and Lurin.