The Beginning - Volume VI: A Knightly Quest

[Ancient Magister]

Volume VI: A Knightly Quest

A soft breeze blew over, making the golden hairs of Juelli dance in the wind. The sky was blue, and the air had a pleasant temperature. It was a beautiful day, yet it didn't feel like it for the princess. With a deep sigh she looked up by hearing the sound of birds flying over, while the tune of gravel crunching beneath her feet reminded her she was stuck to the ground.
"Milady, there you are," said the voice of Igor who appeared from behind the corner, "The carriage is ready when you are, Milady."

"Thank you, Sir Igor," she said before she tried to have one more glimpse of the birds. But they were gone already, so she lowered her head again in slight disappointment. Then her eyes met the stone replica of Sir Byric of the Flame, the statue that stood there even before her parents' parents were born.

Suddenly she was reminded of Hjalti and her meeting back when they were kids. The last time she had seen him was when he was thrown in prison, and in the three years that followed, she had almost forgotten him. Almost. Why was it now, that on this day when she was about to leave to get married in Firebrand Keep, the image of Hjalti popped up in her head?

"Do you remember Hjalti, Sir Igor?" she asked while following the knight to the courtyard.
"Yes, I do," he responded after taking a second to think about his answer. His eyebrow raised: "May I ask what brought this on?"
"Oh, it's nothing," Juelli waved her hand elegantly, "Do you think Sir Krest is good for me?"
"I have never met the lucky man myself, but from what I've heard, he's a real gentleman. Still, he doesn't deserve to have you as his wife. Nobody does."
Juelli chuckled: "Oh, you're always so kind to me," she said while covering her mouth with her gloved hand, "I am going to miss you. Will you come to visit me?"
"When duty allows it, Milady. Sir Krest is the leader of my order, after all, so it would be good to meet him one day."
"Yes, I'd like that," Juelli smiled, but Igor dodged her gaze while suddenly distancing himself from her.

Juelli wondered why he did that, but in the second after, she realized why, and said: "Parren! I guess this is a goodbye, then?" She saw her brother arriving from the mass as she was getting to the carriage which was surrounded by the jubilant crowd.
"Yes, dear sister, I guess it is. You know how father ordered me to guard the castle in his stead," the prince responded, "Otherwise I would have loved to attend the wedding."
"Sure you do," Juelli said sarcastically while hugging him.
"Farewell and my congratulations in advance."
"Thanks!" the princess waved as she sat down, and the door of the carriage closed behind her. Next, she waved to the citizens whom she was leaving behind. While some of them would make the journey themselves to follow the wedding, it was the bigger part of them that had to stay behind.

She was still incredibly popular, and although she would be severely missed, they were happy for her. The princess herself, however, was not yet convinced, and her mind dwindled back to the evening Hjalti was thrown in prison, the night before the Dark Elf prisoner escaped and Hjalti disappeared:
"Why have you kept that prisoner locked up there all that time, actually?" she had asked her father that night when she was brought before him.
"Oh, I should have told you earlier," King Tharlon answered while scratching his white beard, "On the day he was captured back in Starfall, everyone around me advised me to execute the assassin. But I just couldn't find it in my heart to do so."
"Why?" she had asked, "He tried to kill you. He almost did."

"That is exactly what my counselors told me as well. But you know how I think about the war. And if I didn't believe there was still mercy to be found, then how could I hope to see this war come to an end? How could I have faith to see my firstborn, your brother, again one day alive and well, and hold him in my arms? If I couldn't show mercy, how could I expect the enemy to have it? Justice is a double-edged sword, and I pray Tamriel will find an emperor who is just and knows kindness," the giant man on his throne explained, "So instead I sentenced him to 80 years prison. That sounds long, but I took into consideration that he is a Dark Elf. To him, it is not that incalculable, but hopefully still long enough for him to think about the error of his deed. But I digress. I should have told you earlier. For this, I am sorry, and I take full responsibility for your adventure in the dungeons."

Juelli smiled as she glared through the windows at how the scenery of city life made way to the vast fields outside in front of her. She had always liked it here and she had always loved her father, probably even more so than her two brothers. But she still thought he was a fool. If he had listened to his advisors, the assassin couldn't have escaped and Hjalti would probably still be alive, she wondered, for she was led to believe Dram kidnapped the boy that day.
That was the official story at least, and although Igor knew what really happened, he didn't try to stop the lies from spreading, but instead he actually had a hand in it to protect Hjalti. That was the way of Igor, who liked Hjalti very much as if he was the little brother he never had.

And as Hjalti later learned through Dram, the Nord was also responsible for the escape of the Dunmer. It was when they rested for a short while near the Byric River that Dram explained: "As Igor gave you the food in your cell, he also handed me a package before you could see it," Dram said after their escape, "It contained of a set of clothes I'm wearing, a lockpick and this note."
"What was in the note?" Hjalti asked while rubbing his buttocks. They had been riding for quite some hours, and he was already looking up against to the continuation of their many days' journey to Wayrest.
"Heh, yeah I figured you'd be most interested in that one out of the three," the Elf chuckled, "Though I was the most shocked to see that Igor knew to pick the right size for my clothes!"

"Just answer the damn question!"
"Hey, easy there, otherwise it's going to be a long ride," Dram stood up to walk to the horse standing next to them. It was drinking from the river, and the Dark Elf continued: "You see, Igor and I go some way back. He sometimes had guard duty to garrison the dungeons, so from time to time we chatted."
"About what?"
"Politics, religion, the war… All kinds of stuff actually," Dram picked a note from one of the bags hanging on the horse's saddle, "But the point is, we started to like each other, but I never knew he trusted me this much. See for yourself."

Hjalti did. He quickly snatched the note from the hands of the Dark Elf and started reading. It was true: In it, Igor asked Dram to go with Hjalti, to look after him and to protect him along the road. It was his plan all along that Dram would escape with Hjalti, but without informing Dram. He would know only until moments before, when Igor told the escape plan to Hjalti and knowing Dram would listen in as well.

"Igor gave me a choice," Dram explained as Hjalti was still reading, "He knew that giving me this package would mean my freedom, but I still could have chosen to disregard that, or to leave without you. But as I said, he trusted me. And I guess he was right."
"You guess? What do you mean?"
"Well, it's still not too late to betray you, he he he."
"Just you watch, and you'll find out I'm very capable on my own," Hjalti threatened. He couldn't appreciate the sarcastic jokes of the Elf yet, but in the coming weeks, as they continued to travel to Wayrest, he started to get used to it more and more. And he had little to no choice; he had to like it, for his own sanity.

"Hey, what are you doing?!" Hjalti said as Dram took the note back from him and started to shred it above the water.
"What does it look like? I'm destroying evidence of Igor's involvement," the Elf replied as the small pieces floated down the river, "I only kept it for you to read it. Now that you have done so, it serves no purpose other than a potential threat that could oppress Igor, should we lose it somehow and it falls into the wrong hands."

Dram was right. Hjalti knew this, and in the days after, he also learned to trust in the decisions he made for them. It kept them safe during their journey. It was the same trust in Dram Igor had. And although Igor never heard anything from them again in the three years that followed, he knew they were safe. In fact, because of the lack of news he knew just so, for if they were captured or found, he would have heard the news.

Igor thought back to the moment of Hjalti's disappearance after Princess Juelli had mentioned the boy. Now she was on her way to Firebrand Keep and he had returned to the barracks in peace. But a few weeks later, when he was sitting there again, some shocking news arrived at Alcaire Castle: Although it didn't involve Hjalti or Dram, it still deserved Igor's complete attention: it was the princess. She and her escort had never reached the Keep. They had disappeared.

In the letter it was explained that when Sir Krest sent out search parties, they only found the carriage burnt to a crisp with a few human remains, but there was no evidence the princess was part of the victims. Instead, they had found footprints, but the trail led to a dead end, and a few days after that, news had reached King Tharlon in Firebrand Keep there had been sightings of a red dragon in the Wrothgarian Mountains. This was confirmed by some farmers from around the area of the Keep who also claimed to have spotted a giant winged creature in the air.

That was when the conclusion was drawn that this red dragon might have attacked the caravan before it had reached their destination. Juelli was perhaps brought to safety to the mountains, and that is where they might have been trapped, or too afraid to leave. In any case, it was now the task of Prince Parren and his squad to find the princess and slay the dragon. A worthy quest befitting for a prince in shining armor on his white horse, were it not she was his sister. Of course, Sir Krest also wanted to join the dragon hunt to save his fiancé and his bride-to-be, and while King Tharlon granted him the honor to have him complement the search party, he still had to ask Prince Parren's permission. And he didn't look kindly at the man who was going to become his brother-in-law.

The Knights of the Flame from Firebrand Keep weren't the only ones to rendezvous with Prince Parren and his knights however, for the king had arranged to hire a third party, a mercenary band led by a man named Byrzokka. As the name would suggest, one would think this man was a Khajiit. But this was misleading, for he was a Breton in fact, and he got his name from the Khajiiti parents who had adopted him back in Elsweyr. Parren and his party didn't know that beforehand.

"A peaceful greetings to you! This one is Byrzokka the Furless, at your service," the sword-for-hire made a graceful bow as he introduced himself as Prince Parren was getting off his horse.
"The Furless? Don't you mean the Fearless?" Parren laughed.
"No, my friend. this one is the Furless. You can see Byrzokka has no fur, no?"
"Should you have fur then?"
"Yes! Most Khajiits have fur. And a tail," Byrzokka explained, "But Byrzokka the Tailless doesn't have such a nice ring to it as being called the Furless, don't you agree?"
"Igor," Parren looked to his right to see the knight standing next to him, "Explain why we've hired this lunatic again?"

"Your grace," Igor answered formally with a loud and clear voice, "The King hired Byrzokka er… the Furless because this man claims to have experience fighting dragons."
"It's true," Byrzokka smiled as he wriggled his curling mustache which decorated his face alongside a well-trimmed goatee. Parren looked at the wannabe-Khajiit with narrowed down eyes and frowned his brows. It was as if he was going to make a comment, but before he could, he was interrupted by the arrival of Sir Krest who greeted him.

With the whole party now complete, the group from Alcaire Castle released the dogs to begin the search for Juelli. They were quick to follow the trail of her scent, which led them to the same direction as the footprints the scouts found earlier. Along the road, Krest kept the company of the prince and kept talking on end about all sorts of things, to the point where Parren showed his frustration to Igor in private, wishing Krest could shut up just once. He even suggested cutting out the tongue of the Knight-Commander, to which Igor responded with a nervous laugh.

After walking for hours, the group had a small break, and Igor took the time to talk to his fellow knights. He heard one of them say: "I'm not particularly looking forward to meeting this dragon," one of the guards sighed and made a small nod towards Igor as he approached them.
Another said: "You know, it reminds me of when we were fighting that giant Spider Deadra. You remember that?"
"Huh, how could I have forgotten that? That creature haunts me in my dreams every knight," another responded with a shiver, "I'm glad we had that boy on our team, though."
"The boy?"
"The one who killed it. You know, the previous Page of the Prince."
"Oh, of course! Whatsis name again?"

Igor came sitting down next to them and said: "Hjalti was his name."
"Hjalti! Yes, I remember now! I wish we had him with us now. It certainly would help with the morale of the men. That, I know for certain," the knight threw one hand in the air, and Igor smiled. Yes, he wished Hjalti was here as well. The castle was simply not the same without him. And his colleague was right. If he had faith in someone slaying that dragon, it would be that boy, who would no longer be a boy by now and he could be on the other side of the world, Igor realized.

However, little did the Nord know, that a few feet more to the right, in the group of the mercenaries of Byrzokka, there was one armored lad sitting with his helmet on, refusing to take it off. The others, who were all enthusiastically drinking, found him strange, but his presence didn't bother them too much and they just left him alone. And while he had given them a name, the mercenaries gave him a sobriquet instead. They said this lad reminded them of one of their former colleagues, also a quiet lad who was all stoic, but eventually ended up dying a stupid death. They decided to give him the same name, and it got stuck. Thus, they called him Tiber.