Words Written in Lightning: Chapter 3

As mentioned previously, special squadrons will bear their symbol. This is the coat of arms for the elite squadron that protects the princes of Rhylath, the White Lion Squad.

Chapter 3

Into the Storm

King Alexander Ryall, Stowerling Palace, Winterhold

Earlier that Morning

Alexander stroked his beard. His almond eyes looked as if they were lost in another world. He shifted the heavy golden crown that stood atop his head, hoping to make it more comfortable.

He sat on his simple steel throne. Red velvet cushioned the seat. Though it wasn't finely crafted like his crown, it still had a powerful air.

A young squire strode up to Alexander. "Sir Pratt has told me to deliver this message to you, my Lord. A man gave it to him and left." The boy handed him a thin envelope.

King Alexander Ryall of Rhylath, it read. Alexander's muscles tensed as he recognized the handwriting.

If you do not back down and surrender your kingdom to me, I will move my troops in and take it by force. You know I have the numerical advantage. You have three months, lest I come in and remove it from your sorry hands.

It's your fault you're in this position, Alexander. You have spent too much time and resources searching the ruins of Etreith and Ethav for the Archive, and the time has come for you to pay for what you did many years ago.

-King Ellen Trydus of Trysting.

Alexander gripped the note in anger, crushing it.

"Damn you, Ellen. . ." he muttered furiously. Rhylath was already struggling economically. Somebody had decided to make fake silver imperii, making the coin's value drop drastically. Though as far as the king knew, the counterfeits were only in Winterhold and hadn't spread to other provinces.

What am I going to do? I've spread my forces too thin searching for the Archive. I didn't think of how much I was risking, searching for it--oh, Elenore, what do I do. . . he thought worriedly, twiddling with a ring with a simple small diamond on it; his late wife's wedding ring. That damn Ellen. . .

Present Time

"Elden!" Alexander's voice boomed through the chaos, calling for the captain of his sons' royal guard.

A man clad in white and red bearing the White Lion Squad's coat of arms ran forth. The Squad was an elite team within the royal guard that was assigned to protect the princes. Four white stripes on each of his shoulders signified him as the leader.

"Yes, my Lord?" he asked, kneeling.

The look in Alexander's eyes terrified Elden, who was only just now realizing seriousness of the situation.

"Protect my sons."

With a dramatic flip of his black cloak, the king left.

Prince Edmond Ryall, Stowerling Palace, Winterhold

Lionel's tan face paled. He dropped the knife.

"Now is not the time for games, my friend," Edmond said, grabbing Lionel's shoulder and scooping up his friend's fallen knife. "We need to get out of the palace."

"Alas, young prince Edmond, that is the one thing I cannot allow you to do," a voice behind them rasped. Edmond whirled around, throwing the semi-translucent blade at whatever skulked behind him.

The blade--having an unfamiliar length and weight--flew surprisingly accurately, though it missed the creature's carotid artery, which, after much training, was where Edmond defaulted to.

The creature looked vaguely like a corpse that had been withering away for several months. Though it looked to be nothing more than skin and bones, Edmond suspected that it in no way was hurt or malnourished.

The blade passed clean through the creature's shoulder, leaving a small hole.

It did not seem as if the creature had been seriously harmed in any way--just annoyed.

"Why you. . ." it growled.

"I am afraid I cannot allow you to hurt milord Edmond," said a familiar voice behind them. Edmond spun around once more.

Mal stood at the door. He was no longer wearing his coat, but the red and white uniform and armor of a member of the royal guard. He held a large arsteel broadsword in both hands. He smiled grimly. "I've got orders to protect this kid," he said through gritted teeth.

With a battle cry, Mal ran forward, slashing his own blade upward. The creature dodged with ease.

"Lowly humans. . ." it rasped. "I wish you wouldn't throw away your lives so--EASILY!" The creature lunged for Mal but he blocked the move with his blade, taking the creature's hand off. It hissed and backed away momentarily.

Slowly--grotesquely--ligaments, tendons, muscle, bone and sinew grew back. Within seconds the hand returned, the same as it was before.

Mal took a defensive position, holding the sword vertically in front of him. He risked a glance behind him. "Go!" he yelled, throwing himself forward. "Get outta here!"

"We have to help--" Lionel began.

"No, you don't." A hand clamped down on Edmond's shoulder, turning him around to face whoever had grabbed him.

Drenched and dripping, the man who had grabbed him was Mal's superior officer, Elden, who had been recently appointed several months before due to the old officer, Sir Gilbert Nightray, dying in an accident.

His tone was final. "Sir Reynolds is a big boy--he can take care of himself," he said sternly. "Right now, my Lord, your father has told me to get you out of the palace." Elden pulled Edmond out of the room. Lionel hastily followed.

Outside, a major storm raged, the entire palace already flooded with two or three inches of rain. At some point--Edmond couldn't remember in the blur of chaos and rain--a servant had come by and given them each a black oiled cloak to protect themselves from the rain, though they did little to provide shelter from the pounding rain and harsh wind.

"We are to go to the horses!" Elden shouted, grabbing the backs of both the boys' cloaks and leading them to the stables.

Out of nowhere, Myles and Richard, both in cloaks identical to Edmond and Lionel's, came running.

"We are to come with you!" Myles yelled.

"According to father," Richard shouted, "Ash and Shade have already been prepared!"

"Good," Elden said, barely audible. "Because we're at the stable."

Edmond pushed off his hood as he walked into his horse, Cinder's, stable.

Cinder was a powerful, glossy black stallion with a mane like silk and shaggy socks.

"Sorry for the rush, old pal. . ." he muttered, hands flying as he worked the soft black leather of the tack's straps on to his horse.

He led Cinder out of the stables to find the twins mounted on their horses. Lionel strode out with Cobalt.

Cobalt was the half-brother of Cinder. Having the same father yet not the same mother, it was odd how similar they looked. The only difference, really, was that Cobalt did not have shaggy black socks, and that his eyes were cobalt blue--earning him the name of Cobalt.

Elden tossed them each a large sack and saddlebag. "Strap those to the horses!" he ordered. The four boys hurried to do as they were told.

"Move out!" Elden barked. Edmond mounted, walking out of the stables. The rain had yet to let up.

"GO!" Elden bellowed when they were out of the palace gates.

Edmond kicked Cinder into a gallop. He looked back momentarily to make sure that he wasn't leaving everyone else behind, but he quickly realized he needn't worry. His horse was a fine war horse: Fast, but mainly built for endurance. He wasn't going to speed off and leave everyone behind.

"Did you really think you could escape. . . Me?" Edmond felt an unknown weight appear on the saddle behind him.

He almost screamed.

"You. . . ." Elden growled, speeding up so he was riding beside the prince, eyes blazing with the wrath that comes with the helplessness of being unable to protect your charge. "Stay AWAY from Lord Edmond!" he roared, sword in hand.

Edmond could tell he was itching to slash downward and take out the beast, but wouldn't--for fear of hitting his prince. He began to shift his seat in the saddle, hoping that he could possibly throw the creature off balance and give Elden a better shot.

"I. . . think. . . NOT!" the creature rasped in Edmond's ear.

Edmond felt a sinking feeling grow in his stomach as the creature grabbed on to his back and rolled. He helplessly tumbled from Cinder's back, doing all he could to fall properly with a terrifying monstrosity on his back. He gasped as his back slammed into soft, wet mud.

The creature slid out from under him.

Edmond felt a sucking sensation as he tried to pull away, making it more difficult. He let his body go limp.

Cinder stopped, as he was taught, when he felt his master's weight lift from his back. Elden jumped from his white mare, pulling his shield from his back. Though it had been used in battle many times before and bore many scratches and chips, the crest of the White Lion Squad still gleamed pure white and vibrant red on his shield.

Edmond, remembering what to do in situations like this, rolled. He felt a popping sensation as he finally came free of the mud. Though he wasn't yet fully balanced on the mud, he drew his sword. It was part of his training as a squire.

"Remember, it doesn't matter if you aren't one hundred percent able to use your sword, if you are in a situation when your life is in immediate danger and you are still able to hold one, draw it. It will intimidate your opponent--Even if it's momentarily, that could be the difference between life and death."

Pratt's teachings still held true in Edmond's mind.

Edmond shook his head, hoping to clear some of the rain from his face and hair. Mud slid off his oiled cloak and thudded into the ground behind his ankles. His breath come out in white puffs, as did Cinder's and Elden's.

Out of the corner of his eye, Edmond saw Lionel and the twins' horses stop abruptly and turn around, but before the twins could charge into battle after their brother Lionel rode Cobalt in front of them. He held his hand out and shouted a command Edmond couldn't hear, though he could guess: Stay back, lest they get hurt or in the way.

The creature lifted its hand.

The rain stopped.

Edmond stepped into the first of the five speedstances he was taught: Left wolf. He stood crouched low with his hands in front of him, gripping the hilt of his sword. His left foot was in front, knee bent to the point where he couldn't see his toes. His right foot was behind him, a little over shoulder width apart from his left. It was the basic defensive stance of Thei-Ko.

Darkheart gleamed wickedly in the midnight moonlight. The creature hissed and backed away.

Raising an eyebrow, Edmond brandished the sword, swinging it upward in an arc that was more for show than inflicting wounds.

The creature made a low growling noise, bearing its jagged teeth--which were the same color as the rest of itself: Coal black.

"The Midnight Bane. . ." it whispered. "How dare you take up the Nightblood, the Darkheart, for a lowly creature such as me? Blasphemous!" it hissed.

"Ye shoud not be the one to hold the Divine Blade. But a creature such as I cannot take it from--"

A gust of wind passed and the creature vanished, leaving behind wisps of smoke.

The rain started to pound again.

Edmond dropped the sword beside him and fell to his knees, running his hand across his face and through his hair.

He stared at his trembling hands, the once white gloves that covered them now stained with mud.

What. . . . Was that?

I was. . . Useless. . .

"My Lord!" Elden called, riding over on his white mare with Cinder's reins in hand. Seeing Edmond on his knees without his sword, he leapt from his still moving horse with a splash, releasing Cinder's reins. He ran to Edmond, kneeling beside the young prince.

Even though it was some monstrous creature that was going to kill me and my family. . .

Elden gently took Edmond's face into his cold hands, examining him. He furrowed his brow--the dark of the night must have made it difficult for Elden to see Edmond properly, the prince assumed.

"Battle shock," he said at last, releasing the prince.

I really can't believe. . .

"It happens to even the best of soldiers on their first real battle," he said gently.

"Or when they encounter something like that for their first time. . ." Edmond murmured.

Elden patted his shoulder. "My Lord, we need to leave. . ."

Edmond swallowed. "All right." He stood up, shaking the mud off his sword. "Let's go."

______________________________________________________________________________

 *Ryall

RE-all.

*Rhylath

RYE-ah-lath.

*Visermann

V-EYE-zer-men. It's a hard v. Vi is one syllable.

*Elden

EL-din. 

Eltos

EL-t-OH-s.

*Arsteel

ARE-steel.

*Carotid artery

Now, this isn't a major name or place, but it is something that could easily be mispronounced. The carotid artery is a major artery in your neck. When you place your fingers on your neck to feel your pulse, you are feeling your carotid artery.  

CORE-ah-ted ARE-t-er-ie