The trip to Rayon took a day by Stygian horse drawn carriage. There were bandits along the way but...they got trampled under foot or more appropriately...under horseshoe.
With Oswald's directions, they made it by the afternoon of next day. The Rayon Kingdom was much better than Saras. The infrastructure, economy and even their work force was well beyond the average standard of most kingdoms.
It explained why Rayon had more influence and an official non-aggression pact with the Castellon empire. Of course there were concessions that had to be made on Rayon's part but to be one of the few nations publicly acknowledged by a super-power, these concessions were not too difficult to swallow.
The goal of their arrival in Rayon was not to sightsee but go to the outskirts, a little backwater border-town run by a minor noble and just outside that town was a small isolated mountain that was home to their target, the dragon that Oswald wanted dead.
It took another day to reach the border and the town. According to Oswald, it was called Lockridge. It was night time when they arrived and after two days of travel, despite the comforts of the carriage, everyone felt the desire for some space.
Navin, under his father's orders, had stopped using mana to compensate for his need for rest, thankfully his vampiric body could still make up for a lot of his exhaustion but he would have been lying if he said he did not need some sleep, parts of him were still human after all.
Valerian wanted the chance to meditate before fighting a Dragon Lord. After Uriel's misuse of power and the backlash he suffered, he did feel weaker. He wanted to get what he needed from Oswald and prepare himself for what that may cost for the sake of advancing his plans.
He had been attempting to do so in the carriage but Oswald for some unknown reason, perhaps excitement or angst, had been talkative.
Valerian found it somehow offensive. He had fought wars, watched bloodbaths, killed out of boredom, danced and trained simultaneously, and every time he had been able to multitask without stress or pressure.
He had even killed gods while meditating but this faul son of a farting dog spoke so much that multitasking was impossible. This was not a battlefield nor an arena. It was a d*mn carriage and if Val chose to seclude himself entirely and forget about his surroundings, there was no telling when he would wake up from deep state meditation.
He needed the distance from Oswald. If not for the necessity of meditation and preparation then definitely for the sake of not snapping the torturous windbag's neck for the sake of some quiet.
The carriage arrived at an inn. The best one the little town had to offer. It had a bar on the bottom floor that was full of mercenaries, adventures, famers and women whose company was paid for by the hour. Valerian had to stop himself from glowering at the sight.
But when Valerian and his companions walked in, as they looked on, they too were being looked at. The music stopped. The crowd turned their heads. From the sight of these travellers the men could tell three things. Rich, foreign and not to be f*cked with.
The women also came to three conclusions. Rich, foreign and beautiful. Even Oswald fell into the attractive category. Magi were those who studied power and control. They could kick out impurities in their bodies or reshape them into more appealing forms. One would be hard pressed to find an ugly Mage. Hard pressed. Not impossible.
The men decided to continue with their fun while the women who were being paid wished to switch clients. They were professionals however. They gave enough attention to the men who had already paid while casting a few glances at the newcomers whenever they could and waiting for their current client's time to end.
Other women who had been feeling ecstatic, already paid for a full night plus a service upstairs, began to fell unlucky. Foreigners were rare. Rich ones even more so. A girl could have the time of her life and still not worry for money for a while if they pleased these clients well enough but this opportunity was already beyond them.
"Peter?" A familiar voice broke through. Navin turned his head toward it and found a waitress whose face he knew and cared for.
Valerian also looked in the direction of the voice and could only scowl.
It was some Navin recognised from his previous life as Peter. It was someone Valerian knew too.
""Frey."" Both Valerian and Navin spoke at the same time yet their tones were completely different. One was surprise while the other was annoyed.
'This encounter will make his human heart grow, not shrink.' Valerian thought.
[Enoch: If you make the boy leave, he may grow to hate you. Let him have this chance. You will leave tomorrow anyway.]
Enoch spoke reason but Valerian saw trouble. Val turned his gaze to Navin and found the boy looking back at him. His lips sealed, his eyes focused but inside them, begging.
[Enoch: Before you answer the boy's silent pleas, remember that you see things through the eyes of an ancient. The boy needs to learn somethings for himself or he will grow to hate you. He his young and you are over...]
'Shut up!' Valerian thought. He was angered by Enoch almost mentioning his age. He thought it but his face became even more contorted.
Navin hung his head when he saw that face, thInking his father was angry because the boy was making another insane request and even to Navin, it did seem insane but he wanted to talk to her.
Seeing the child's expression, Enoch's words were confirmed. He could feel the fool's smugness in his head.
'Fine.'
"You may see and speak to her." Valerian said. Navin raised his head unsure if he had heard correctly but by the time he looked to where Valerian had been standing, his father was already walking towards the counter to rent a room for the night.
'You are foolish, child. If only you knew that she and the boy who sold you to that church are here together. I can smell him on her. The stench is so strong she may have even been mounted just this morning.'
Her character I do not know,
But love is a trying weed that will grow
These are the seeds you, my son, sow.
Will your foolishness never cease?
In your garden of peace
You still picked a flower of the streets,
There is no reward to heap
And only sorrow to keep.
Remember it is your own heart you broke.
It is your sanity your tears will erode.
Remember how you stood bold
For a love she sold.
This is the path you chose.
My warnings you may not heed.
The truth you may not see
This flower you plant will never be a tree.
Believe that I know what will be,
For this was once me.
Ignore a Sage's advice,
Forget those who are wise
And you will suffer twice.
Believe I know what will be,
For this, my son, was once me.
It took Valerian a moment to recite this poem. He rented a few rooms and went upstairs, hopeful that this experience would make his son realise the weakness of his human heart and make him more aware of who he was.
Val had to mould this boy into the man that would one day rule over many.
The return of the Az'Talon and its inhabitants was just as perilous as leaving it where it was.
In the Crimson Empire, strength and ability reigned supreme. The idea of an heir to the Throne above thrones, Valerian's seat of power, in the palace was never discussed, at least not with him.
Why would an immortal ruler need a successor?
In a way, were they not all his children?
Why would a boy of unknown origins take over?
Navin would have to beat the Elders and their kin into submission. Ancient vampires whose naps could spans four human lifetimes and their descendants who had never once known or experienced any mortal pain as born vampires.
It no different from sending a cub to lead a pride of male lions.
Or perhaps a cub would be in a better situation, cub or not, it would still be a lion.
The idea of a half-blood in Az'Talon had never occurred and suddenly, a half blood prince?
Valerian felt weighed down. He. wanted to find some way to release his pent up frustrations.
A wicked smile appeared on his face when he remembered Blyeth.
Perhaps he would check in on Hell before going to kill a dragon.