Alaric knelt before his father amongst his brothers. In all, he had three siblings. Being nineteen years of age, he was the youngest. Esrian was the eldest brother, first heir to the throne, while Kelden was the third son. Tanon was the second in line, and most believe he was the most likely to be king.
Everyone knew Esrian's selfish, cruel nature. He was hateful and greedy, thus their father did not approve of him inheriting the throne. At times Alaric would catch Esrian shooting hateful glares at Tanon, envious eyes glowing venomously. He feared that one day Esrian would be likely to kill his elder brother, in which case he felt that the Clan would fall to ruin.
"My sons." The king spoke. His voice was booming and strong. Their father was a large man, his shoulders wide and heavyset, large, burly arms and his eyes were wise and knowing. He had long gray hair that hung past his shoulders, a short beard hanging from his chin.
His voice reverberated throughout the temple, shaking Alaric to his bones. The temple was in similar fashion to the dojo, a lavish oak throne with intricate carvings etched into its surface at the center of the building. It was open and the walls were covered by shelves filled with scrolls, weapons and artifacts of a wide variety.
Paintings depicting ancient wars and conflicts were sprawled across the temple walls all around them. Again, Alaric had the sense that the conflicts all had no real purpose or reason.
A massive katana doubling the size of your traditional blade leaned up against the throne, the blade hidden beneath its lavish sheath.
"I am proud of all of you, you've come to fruition in each of your own fields, unmatched by any in your professions." The king spoke.
"Thank you father, but it is really nothing." Esrian spoke, overconfidence soaked into his tone.
The king's eyes rested on Esrian, a look of disappointment sowed into his gray irises. "I've come to realize," he spoke, his tone somewhat sorrowful, "that my time as Clan King is coming to its end."
Everyone of the king's sons looked up in shock at their father. All except for Alaric, who kept his eyes to the wooden floor below him.
"Are you saying..?" Esrian began, but was quickly quieted when their father continued to speak, his voice overpowering his son's.
"The time has come for there to be a new leader of the Mortadire Clan. We cannot allow ourselves to become weak, less the other Clans strike us down." The king began to tap his finger against his throne. "I have come to a decision who shall take my place."
"Whom of us shall you choose, lord?" Kelden asked.
"I shall declare my decision on the dawn of the coming day. I suggest you all take this day to rest yourselves. And prepare."
"Prepare for what?" Tanon inquired.
The king was silent, his expression dark and grim as he looked from one son to another, as if he was peering into their souls.
"For war."
"War?" Alaric asked suddenly, lifting his head and facing his father, surprised to find their eyes locking instantly. "What reason would we possibly have to fear war? There has been no conflict in years now."
"I understand you do not see the shadows that are sown deeply into the Four Clans, Alaric," his father said, "but you shall soon come to understand. Often times, war has no true reason."
"So what then?" Alaric asked, "All the blood that would be spilt would be in the name of an inane war?"
"My son. I find it strange how you cherish and brandish your blade, yet you revolt at the aspect of war and bloodshed."
"Alaric is an immature, useless fool father. Do not waste your words on him, they will simply fall on deaf ears." Esrian spoke in a cruel tone.
"At times," the king said, ignoring Esrian's comment, "there is no reason for war other than that of hatred and the thirst for bloodshed. The Clans that reside outside our walls are much different than our own, the lands beyond our borders are dyed a deep shade of crimson. Soon you will come to see that truth." He turned his eyes to Esrian and Tanon. "Some of you have already witnessed it."
Alaric turned and saw a dark shadow fall over Tanon's expression. His eyes turned hard and his jaw was set as he stared blankly at the floor.
"Rise." The king ordered.
"But my liege-" Kelden began, but the king raised a hand to stop him, his golden rings glimmering.
"Do as I say." He commanded.
All four heirs to the Clan rose from the ground, standing on their feet and holding their heads high.
"All of you are my prized children, all equal heirs to the throne." The king began.
"Equal?" Esrian remarked, "We know who the throne should be passed onto, father."
"Silence. Pride will be your downfall, Esrian. Do not fall to one of the cardinal sins, as my first son you should know better than any other." Their father spoke harshly, his words silencing his son immediately.
Esrian's expression tensed, frustration and wrathful flames gleaming in his eyes.
The king looked up at the glass skylight above him. The rays of the falling sun drifted down on him like a divine beacon falling upon a king of kings.
"It is almost nightfall. All of you shall return to your chambers. I expect you to be here on the first light of dawn, as it will signify not just the light of a new day, but also the beginning of a new age." Their father spoke, then raised his hand and waved his fingers. "Away."
For a long moment, the brothers didn't move. They stood in silence, staring blankly into a void that only their individual eyes could see. Most of them could not comprehend what had just occurred, in their minds, their father was and always would be king, they never expected him to step down so soon.. It was unnerving and unexpected.
Alaric was not so much taken aback by the announcement of his father stepping down, he was most disturbed by the warning of a coming war. He was confused, he could not comprehend why their land would be soaked in blood and hatred as his father had said it was. What was the reason they fought? It all seemed so trivial. Bloodshed.. over what?
Was it as simple as hatred? Or was there a real reason? Alaric simply couldn't understand. Maybe it was due to the fact that he, being numb, couldn't comprehend the idea of hatred. What drove one to hate so much that they'd be willing to kill so effortlessly? So needlessly?
His father's words echoed in his mind then.. 'My son. I find it strange how you cherish and brandish your blade, yet you revolt at the aspect of war and bloodshed.' Was killing really the only reason to brandish a blade? Was it not a delicate, meaningful dance of brilliant steel and focus?
He just didn't understand…
"I said leave. Disperse, away with you all, how else shall I put it? Begone." Their father commanded.
This time, Alaric was the first to leave, followed by Esrian and Kelden. As he left, he glanced at the paintings on walls. He truly just did not understand the purpose of this war..
As he turned a corner, head ing down the hall that shot off away from the temple to his quarters, he looked back and saw Tanon standing before their father, completely still. He wondered what he was doing.
With every step the soft thump of his sandals on the wood pathway filled his ears, accompanied by the songs of spring birds and insects. He looked up. The sky was a soft, gentle shade of orange, the dying light of the sun disappearing behind the Barrok mountains lighting up the lazily drifting clouds.
He stopped. Alaric's eyes then set on the first and brightest star of the night sky, shimmering high above in an opening within the clouds. It was almost like staring up into the gateway to the heavens. He couldn't help but wonder, if the gods they worshiped really did exist, had they forsaken their creations? Or did they design the world to be drenched in blood.
He felt a strange knot form in his chest. Something within his rib cage ached, the pain flowing through his entire body and making him become fatigued. His hand raised to his chest, where he grasped his kimono, wrinkling the fabric in his clenched fist.
As Alaric went to his quarters, laying in his bedroll and pulling the blankets over himself, he was troubled with this ache. He was just perplexed by the idea of war and hatred.. he couldn't stop thinking about it.
That night, as the moon hung high in the sky that had lost the light of the sun, now being dyed a deep black, he could not sleep. He could not rest his uneasy mind. Or maybe it was his heart…