(AUTHOR'S NOTE:
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THIS CHAPTER CONTAINS DIVINE AND ESOTERIC ELEMENTS THAT COULD OFFEND OR CONFUSE SOME PEOPLE, JUST KNOW THAT EVERYTHING HAPPENS FOR A REASON. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED.
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(Forests of Hindarsfjall, Hindarsfjall, Jarldom of Hindarsfjall, Skellige, Isles of Skellige, The North, Witcher World, Witcher-Verse)
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(King Aethan I Jaenerys of Cidaris POV)
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Untamed.
That is how King Aethan would describe Skellige. It was a wild and cold place, inhabited by people who were survivors at their core. These people glorified their forefathers and, as such, held honor be it personal honor or familial honor - in extreme importance.
But there was something else.
An often overlooked aspect of Skellige culture, that was very important. That particular aspect was a respect and a reverence for nature and the gifts and curses it provided. The wisest Jarls knew that protection of one's lands was more than just about defense during war. It was ensuring that the land and all that called it home were protected as much as they were utilized. Resource management was critical for any Jarl, and the safekeeping of their lands against threats both seen and unseen, thought minor or thought major, and obvious or subtle that truly distinguished who was the wisest.
Now, Aethan did not believe that Donar an Hindar was not the most cunning or fearsome of the Jarls of Skellige. No, he was shrewd and wily. He understood that Hindarsfjall was the most sacred and holy isle in Skellige. That meant that its land had to be safeguarded.
From what he'd seen so far, Donar was very careful of what he allowed in the way of industry or sacrifice on Hindarsfjall. Because as teaming with life and game as the forests of Hindarsfjall were, they weren't overfilled with them. The forests seemed - as wild and untamed as they were - to be a healthy mix of old and young trees, which meant Clan Heymaey took the protection and harvesting of lumber very seriously. These were seafaring and raiding people, so more often than not the objective was gold, food, luxuries, or women. But the Skellige folk knew how to make things last, so they likely also stole lumber when there were not enough old trees to cut down. Keeps their forests from dying out. But clearly, the Heymaey folk also took livestock since, on his way through with Donar, they had a great deal of livestock available, which made sense when Aethan looked at the Game in the Forest.
They'd spotted mostly young deer so far and, at his and Donar's insistence, had left them be. But not just out of common sense, there were reports of a far greater prize in these woods. A White Stag, Skellige folk tradition held that whosoever slew a White Stag was to be respected as Tyr's chosen, for he had slain Freya's elusive guardian.
Tyr and Freya were married, and one of the trials Tyr had to undertake in order to prove worthy of her hand was to slay her Stag.
Tyr failed.
Time and time again, until finally nearing the end of his mortal life, he stopped chasing it and simply sat down. The Stag came to him now, and he spared it. Declaring he would let another who was younger and wiser slay the beast. Freya deemed him worthy of her hand for his valor, mercy, and his wisdom.
Throughout the ages, only a handful of Skelligers had slain a White Stag, and all of them, barring one, became Konung of Skellige. The last two to slay a White Stag were, ironically, Bran and Eist Tuirseach. Now, obviously, Eist hadn't become King of Skellige, as he had become King-Consort to Calanthe. But that ought to tell you how important the people of Skellige held the slaying of a white deer.
But where in his last life a White Stag being killed was traditionally a bad omen and conveyed a lifetime of bad luck, the Skellige folk considered it a sign for the future, a sign of legends to come.
But if he could, Aethan would spare the Stag. It was a religious matter. A Skelliger might gladly slay the beast, but he was a Cidarian, and as a devotee of Freya, Aethan would spare this Stag. He lacked the cultural necessity to kill it. And if Donar and his lads tried to kill it, he'd fight for the beast's life. That complicated relations, but this was a matter of Faith, not a matter of State.
Hmm, speaking of which, he had some restructuring to do when he got home, and he had an idea he wished to run by King Bran. There was such a thing as too much, but this wasn't strictly for him.
More on that later.
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''You see this hoof print? It's similar to the drawings in the old books. The Hart must've gone this way.'' Donar says to him, placing his palm next to the deer tracks.
''Larger than any deer print I've seen in the forests of Cidaris, but I don't know how big the deer are here so I can't say if that's much of a comparison.'' Aethan notes.
''Regardless, we know where the animal's headed. We shouldn't delay.'' Donar says as he follows the hoof prints, keeping his bow in hand, and his arrow already knocked and ready to be drawn.
''Tell me something.'' Aethan begins, keeping his voice low so as not to spook the Stag. ''Why do Skelligers kill the Hart, when Tyr himself spared it? Would it not be of greater honor to do as Tyr did?'' He asked.
Donar sighs and turns to him.
''A good question, that is, one I myself asked my own father during his final winter. Clan Heymaey has long been the sacred protectors of Hindarsfjall and Freya's Garden. Before Morkvarg came, all who raided our shores left the Garden alone. I was younger back then, and my father said it was a test passed down from father to son, among the clans. Just as any who proves themselves worthy of becoming Konung of the Isles may be crowned, any who completes Tyr's Trial of Freya may Prove themselves a legendary and a heroic king for the future. But no man from Clan Heymaey has slain the Stag and become Konung. My father said that the Garden of Freya and it's Priestesses protected any Hart who came to our shores and ran through our forests or climbed our hills.'' Says Donar.
''Is it possible that the Garden was simply a conduit and the power laid in the high Priestess?'' Asks Aethan.
''That is my hope, King Bran has been elected Konung two times over, more than any man before him. When his reign finally ends, I would like to see Clan Heymaey reign before my death.'' Says Donar. ''Nothing and no one will stop Clan Heymaey From proving ourselves worthy.'' Says Donar resolutely.
''Nobody, except for me…'' Aethan mouths softly, his own resolve hardening.
'May Freya forgive me. I will be unable to pay her tribute and pray at her home. Forgive me, for that which must be done, may very well become a matter of state.' Aethan thinks silently, reaching out to touch the Hilt of lionors a'baeth. His blade was slung across his back, as his grip on it tightened, he felt something.
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(POV Shift: ^☆?☆^)
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She Jerked her head to gaze out at the Lands below.
He had arrived…
He who was unbound by fate, the child of the land of the Long White Cloud, though he had arrived in the world of mortals long ago, but he had only now entered her domain, the lands her people and children called home.
And he was hunting for…
No, he was here to protect her, no matter what it cost him. How could she do any less for the child of prophecy who would usher in the world to its new age following the White Frost?
For the first time in over a thousand years, she would walk amongst the Mortals…
''Hear me, sisters, the prophesied one has arrived, wait for me…''
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(POV Shift: Nobody in Particular)
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''Hear me, sisters, the prophesied one has arrived, wait for me…''
''High priestess, did you hear that?'' Sister Tamlyn asked.
''I did.'' She replied.
''What does this mean?'' Asked Sister Astrid.
''It means, Freya's prophecy has been fulfilled, the men hunt her Hart, but they have an outsider… A guest amongst their party, but can it be that King Aethan is the Child of the Land of the Long White Cloud?'' She asks. ''I do not know… The Land of the Long White Cloud is supposed to be a promised land for the dead, separate from the halls of ancestors and hearths of sisters.''
''You speak of the wisdom passed down from the First High Priestess?'' Sister Josta asked in surprise. ''I thought it a myth or at least a quest long since fulfilled.'' Josta added.
''Nay, the first High Priestess had additional knowledge, passed down only through word of mouth, from the High Priestess to their appointed successor. When the Prophecy of the White Frost is thrust upon the world, the child of the Land of the Long White Cloud will guide the world of man into the next age. I believe that voice belonged to Freya, she speaks to us even here, away from her garden. This makes our duty clear, have the people prepare a feast and celebration, we must gather the keys to the sacred tombs. The prophesied one must someday open them and defeat the evil within.'' She instructs.
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(POV Shift: Queen Adda ''The Red'' Dezmoiden of Cidaris POV)
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So far, things had gone splendidly.
Her efforts to support Aethan had been mildly eventful, and hopefully, they would remain successful. Not everyone had been easy to deal with, obviously, the people who were imprisoned were the hardest, Lucien Feld and Hanz Grell most of all. Aethan had taught her what she needed to know when dealing with difficult individuals, be firm, but not obstinate and unreasonable. Lucian Feld's by far had been the angriest, but she had weathered his storm of fury and informed him if he was not willing to accept her offer for what it was, he would be escorted back to prison. She understood his fury and even emphasized it.
But Lucia informed her that Aethan would have no choice but to undermine her authority if she gave even an inch to Feld. She heard Aethan's voice in her head.
''Compensation should not be given to someone simply because they ask for it, even less should they demand it. Loyalty and service earn them that right to receive.''
He was far from happy but he had asked for a few days to think it over. She had agreed to the request, if only to allow him some time to cool off as well. Insofar as Hanz Grell was concerned, he seemed more amenable. But she knew a snake when she saw one. She had to actively resist the urge she felt to tear the man's throat out with her bare hands
Hanz Grell wanted her and Aethan gone, but he wanted something else first. His family and his life back first. She would give him what he craved, and when he looked to betray her, she would show him that just as Aethan was The Tempest of Cidaris, her title of The Red, was for more than just her hair color.
Cupping her belly, she feels her children kicking slightly within her, they would be strong and powerful. Like their father in that regard, and like her, they would be worthy of all that Aethan would provide.
''My queen, I have the reports on Gretel Mari, Alton Basi, and Martin Gretsz.'' Lucia said, breaking her from her thoughts.
''Excellent, what do you know?'' She asked the royal spymaster.
''Martin Gretsz died in a brawl a month after he was released. His son moved their family to Vengerberg in Aedirn. Gretel Mari and Alton Basi are still alive within the Kingdom. Gretel is actively breaking her trading ban, by working as a smuggler. King Aethan was aware of her actions but tolerated her due to his alliance with the Smuggler's alliance. It could be that you could use that. Alton Basi is a different story, he has a trading ban, yes, but trade was not his main business.'' Says Lucia.
''What was his main business?'' Adda asks curiously.
''He was a banker, and before he was convicted by King Aethan, he was in charge of managing trading investments. Nowadays he manages loans.'' Says Lucia and Adda hums thoughtfully.
''Why wasn't he fired?'' She asks.
''He's too important to the bank's operations. Especially since the Cianfinelli and Vivaldi Banks have opened branches in Cidaris, he's a mathematical genius and is a noted polyglot. He can move large sums of money for the bank easily. They've since used him to make it look like their profits have only increased since the other bank's arrival. He's able to make their ledgers look like it's income versus expenses is squarely in the green.'' Says Lucia.
''Isn't that illegal? Cidaris gas very strict trading laws, especially regarding fair play.'' She asked in surprise. ''Irregardless of how important he is to the bank, as a manager of loans, he can still indirectly profit from the trade. That's a violation of his trading ban.'' She notes.
''I'm aware, Aethan had me send several undercovers in and acquire proof he was indirectly profiting from it. The King unfortunately did not have time to confront Basi before departing for Skellige.'' Says Lucia.
''Then bring both before me. Time to make use of them.'' She orders, unlike with Antso Garrin, there was no great carrot to be offered here. Just a small carrot and a big stick.
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(POV Shift: Gretel Mari)
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Once again, she had a good thing going. And once again…she had been dragged before the royal family. Not just her though, Basi too.
The Queen had apparently reached out with an offer of reconciliation for Garrin and had also released Feld and Grell from prison in exchange for their help with something. Feld had tried recruiting her.
She'd declined.
The last time she'd helped him, she lost a substantial amount of her income because the others in his little cabal involved Nilfgaard. She should've known better. Feld's always had been shortsighted. He cared more for short-term gains than a steady and long-term profit. That focus on long-term profits and income was why she'd done so well as a smuggler. She valued her relationships and her customers. She tried not to cheat her customers or her competition. She offered fair and reasonable rates, but ones that left her enough room to make a profit without failing to make bribes and payoffs.
She also invested heavily in a small network of informants and friends. Most of the city reported to the King, there was no proof, but it made sense. But even so, someone had to have ratted on her, and there was only one solution to a rat.
Of course that was assuming she survived this encounter.
But she liked her odds, she never gambled unless she did.
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She and Basi were brought before Queen Adda, whom Gretel idly noted had a half-dozen guards around her and three times as many agents awaiting the slightest wrong move on the part of her or Basi.
''I'm disappointed and pleased in equal measure. You both have found ways to make a living after the unfortunate events that occurred between you and the crown. Except your ways of doing that have found you in violation of the terms of your release. Lady Mari, we know about your smuggling, my husband is on his way back, no doubt he'll seek to deal with you unless…other arrangements are made. And you Alton Basi, you were too valuable to kill or fire, but not so valuable that you'll survive this unscathed. Even one such as yourself needs friends.'' That look in Queen Adda's eyes.
''You have an offer for us? Speak plainly.'' She tells the Queen.
''I can help you weather my husband's fury. In fact, I already did, when you were both spared the rope. Further assistance comes at a price.'' There it was. The age-old adage rang true. Everybody wanted something, and whoever knew what that something was and had it in abundance, controlled everybody.
''Speak.'' Basi growls out frustratedly.
''I need your support, Garrin already supports me. Feld and Grell are considering my offer, but you two? You both will need my support to weather Aethan's anger. Help me, and not only will your transgressions past and present be overlooked, but they'll be forgiven. You could resume past business with a grateful royal patron.'' It was a tempting offer, and that much was true at least.
However, forgiving the royal family and even trusting them again was a concept that Gretel found extremely tough to swallow. Basi too it seems.
''Why should either of us trust a word you say? You make a tempting offer I'll grant you, but you apparently need us far more than we need you.'' Basi demands.
''He's got a point, your majesty. Why should we help you at all?'' Gretel asks though she makes her tone far more kind than Basi does.
''My husband reacted to what he saw as dissatisfied Merchants trying to destabilize his Kingdom's economy. How do you think he'll react to two of those very same Merchants - both of whom he generously spared the rope and a prison cell at my request- flouting his terms for their lives and freedom? You Miss Mari, are a smuggler, and Mister Basi here is profiting from trade through loans and debts. Joining with me now, ensures you're once again spared from my husband's wrath.'' Says the Queen and Gretel ponders her words.
It was true that King Aethan would likely not spare her and Basi the rope this time. And if he did, it was highly unlikely that they could ever hope to leave prison alive. Besides, depending on what Queen Adda needed of them, the potential for profit was immense. However, what she offered increased the potential profits and offered her a chance to regain both her previous status and her previous relationships.
This was a chance she could ill afford to decline. Especially since the Queen was aware she was now a smuggler. If she knew, then it was incredibly likely that King Aethan also knew. Attaching herself to the queen would at the very least serve as a buffer to whatever retaliations King Aethan had in mind for her.
''Very well, I accept.'' Mari tells the Queen.
''Excellent, and what of you mister Basi?'' Asks the Queen.
''No. You have no proof, no shred of evidence that I skirted my trading ban by profiting from loans.'' Defiant to the end, Gretel whispers a soft and silent prayer to Lebioda for Basi.
''Don't be so certain. Several of your clients were Cidarian intelligence agents sent to ensure you upheld the rules of you're trading ban, and several of your co-workers are willing to testify against you.'' Says The Queen, and although Basi stills and loses some of his resolve, he remains defiant.
''Going against the Van Barle Bank will ruin Cidaris economy. I'm too highly valued to do anything to.'' Fool.
''Maybe you would be irreplaceable and untouchable if only it were so that the Van Barle bank was the only major banking institution in Cidaris. But neither you nor the institution you work for is irreplaceable. No doubt Cianfanelli and Vivaldi will be more than happy to assume control of your institution if you and your bosses were suddenly found guilty of embezzling hundreds of thousands of Thalers and stealing clients' money while making it appear they were actually making money.'' It was a clear threat, and one the Queen did not make lightly, the fact she threatened it would either be reinforced by her delivering on her threat, or it and her own word would be undermined by the fact it was a bluff.
''Go right ahead, see what happens when you do. No self-respecting Man would entrust hard-earned coin to dwarves regardless of the societal norm.'' Ah, she had heard of Basi's dislike for Dwarves. Hence why he was working for a Human-run bank instead of a Dwarven-run bank. Gretel didn't know whether or not he was biased through a result of his own arrogance and belief in his own values or whether or not he was just plain racist.
Knowing Basi, and his reputation,
It was likely an unhealthy bit of both…
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(POV Shift: King Aethan I Jaenerys of Cidaris)
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How the hell did he get into this situation?
He questioned his luck sometimes, actually just luck in general. Generally, luck didn't matter as much as weighing one's options and the risks and rewards of their subsequent actions. But whenever he counted on luck, he tended to get some very shitty outcomes.
The fact he was often on the receiving end of those outcomes did nothing to improve his belief that one should ensure any outcomes they endure have been weighted in their favor. Any misfortunes should hurt someone else's interests because even a vital ally could become a devastating enemy years into the future.
But the current situation beggared belief.
''No mainlander gonna stop me from killing the hart!'' That seemed to be the general consensus amongst clan Heymaey. He'd not slain a single man from their clan, but most were down with injuries that prevented them from fighting him unless they were okay with losing their chance to fight again.
There were around fifteen able-bodied warriors still gunning for him and the hart he was protecting. For whatever reason, the damned stag hadn't run away, just stood there watching him.
''Think again.'' The reply he offered might have been verbal, but his response was all too physical. The fight had been largely humiliating for Clan Heymaey, Aethan used his superior training and equipment to deal blows that made the Clan's warriors look like fools. Only when the warriors began to lose control of their emotions were they rendered unable to fight without permanent injury and thus prevention of an honorable death in battle.
As tall as he was, Aethan was an immensely agile and versatile fighter, as his training had entailed. He wasn't infallible, but he was certainly several levels above the warriors of Clan Heymaey.
''Swarm him, lads, eventually, he'll wear out.'' Donar orders, and for the first time, Aethan curses Donar's intellect. It was a sound strategy, as Cat School training resulted in the rapid draining of one's stamina because of the higher level of exertion and stamina-draining maneuvers. Aethan had to roll, flip, cartwheel, and duck more than most. It was a major flaw in his fighting style, but because he wasn't a Witcher, he was not able to overcome that half as well as an actual Witcher. A Witcher would rely on signs or their enhanced senses and reflexes as well as their better-conditioned and mutated bodies to fill in the gap in Aethan's fighting style, but Aethan had no such thing to call upon.
If he had the body of a Witcher, he'd be able to consume a potion to improve his stamina regeneration or even his vitality. But he was just a simple transmigrated mortal whose only benefits outside of his meta-knowledge were a sharp mind, robust physique, and rugged handsomeness. His training wasn't a benefit so much as an asset, but it was a crucial one. The problem however was that he was losing energy faster than he could replenish it. If worse came to worst, this could become a war, even if war was stretching it. Nevertheless, Aethan didn't waiver, he'd spare these fools from an early grave as much as he could, but sooner or later he'd need to start taking them to that grave.
And with how things were looking right now? It would be sooner.
BOOOM! Crack!
The sound of thunder echoed overhead, even as Aethan defended the Stag from it's predators.
Suddenly, a bolt of Lightning hit the ground in front of Aethan and the Heymaey warriors.
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''Greetings, child of the Land of the Long White Cloud.'' Aethan stilled, he felt the color drain from his face.
''H-how? How do you know that name?!'' Whoever this was….she knew about his origins. The Land of the Long White Cloud was an archaic and alternative name to the Country of New Zealand. The Land he was born in in his last life.
''I am Freya. And I have been waiting for you to come to my shores for eons.'' Says the woman, and given the sheer power he felt in her words, Aethan was inclined to believe her.
Without a word, Aethan dropped to his knees and hung his head low.
''Great Mother.'' He says in deference, and out of the corner of his eye, he notices the Heymaey Warriors - Donar Included - have done the same.
''You have proven your honor and value, child. Your Blade? May I see it?'' Says Freya.
Wordlessly, Aethan holds the blade up much as Daemon Targaryen once did to end his campaign in the Stepstones once and for all in Game of Thrones.
''Hmm, a fine blade, resistant to magic and enchanted to forever hold its edge. Allow me to provide you with something else.'' She says, and Aethan dares to raise his head as a bright light envelopes Freya's hands as she holds the blade.
Freya began chanting in a language that Aethan only vaguely was able to decipher some of the words due in part to his being polyglot both in this life and his last one.
He can't translate everything, but among the words that he could translate were: Penetration, Faith, Loyalty, Target, Power, Speed, Blessings, Space, Purification, and Blood. He knows not Freya's done, but the Sword now glows with some kind of power and energy, and it's almost imperceptible, enough that Aethan has to squint to be sure of what he's seen. Thinking about it, Aethan thinks that although it's not quite like Olgierd Von Everac's blade Iris, but not all that far off either. Iris to him had always seemed to be a sword of Demonic powers. But lionors a'baeth now appeared almost holy.
''It is done. Just as there is great power in your blood, there is now great power in this blade. Keep it close, always.'' Says the Goddess.
''I…thank you.'' He wasn't sure what else he could say. This whole situation and whom it now involved beggared belief.
''Do not be so shy. All of you. Do not be afraid, who am I to judge you for simply doing what Tyr could not.'' Says Freya and although the Heymaey warriors rise, they keep their low.
''Hmm.'' Freya frowns thoughtfully before suddenly the warriors let out a gasping breath and all but one fall to the ground unconscious. Only Donar is left standing. Though he does not appear fully consciously aware of the situation. ''Curious. He's stronger than most. But this should ensure our talk is just for us. Listen closely, child. You know of Ithlinne's prophecy, yes? The prophecy around you is not much different. Just as the child of the Elder Blood will either destroy the world or be its savior, it is up to you to guide the world into the next age. Whether or not you do this with the last of Lara Dorren's line by your side is another matter.'' Says Freya.
''Fuck prophecy. I will not set aside my wife for another.'' Says Aethan.
''Be calm, child. Prophecy has many interpretations. You need not be Wed to guide the world into the next age together. Besides, you have selected someone as a concubine. You need not set aside your wife if you did wed the girl.'' Says Freya.
''They both deserve better than that.'' Aethan says resolutely.
''They do.'' Freya agrees. ''But the future is ever-changing. Your presence here and your actions have significantly altered the destiny of the World of Man and Beast.'' Says Freya.
''Why are you here?'' Aethan finally asks.
''To reward you, of course.'' She says, and Aethan levels her with a doubtful look.
''I don't believe that for a second.'' He says in disbelief.
''And to also warn you.'' Says Freya, and Aethan frowns at her, though he looks at her with a little more belief now. ''You have made many enemies, she who holds your heart is both attempting to turn enemies into friends and prove to herself, you, and everyone else…that she is worthy of you.'' Says Freya.
''Adda has nothing to prove to anyone. Least of all me.'' Aethan says strongly.
''I'm not finished yet, child.'' Freya interrupted him harshly, though not unkindly. ''She will deliver on her promises, and on her threats, but there is a cost to all things, a price to be paid for everything. You must complete your business here quickly and be there for her.'' Says Freya and she smiles at him, before fading away.
''By the gods, you are touched by the mother.'' Aethan turned and saw not just Donar, but several people.
Crach an Craite.
Madman Lugos.
Harald Houndsnout.
Holger Blackhand.
Udalryk.
And King Bran.
The Goddess had brought the Jarls.
This had just gotten a whole lot more complicated.
''Fuck me.''
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(POV Shift: Princess Atthis Jaenerys of Cidaris)
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Lyria and Rivia was a fantastic place to be. But her favorite place had to be the library. Queen Meve had an extensive collection of books and treatises on countless subjects.
Queen Meve herself was also a great teacher, and Atthis found herself drawn to the Queen. But there was something else. A nagging suspicion.
Prince Hugo and Princess Calanthe.
Though both strongly favored Queen Meve, the eyes of Prince Hugo. They were like Aethan's. Unlike herself and their younger sisters, Aethan had the eyes of their mother.
Their mother was a Nazairi Princess connected to the royal family of Kaedwen and thus the Dynasty of the Unicorn was tied to them in some form or another. From their mother, Aethan had acquired a pair of distinctive eyes, both a brilliant but pale Purple. The very same eyes that Prince Hugo held.
She'd thought long and hard about it, and realistically…the twins were likely conceived during the time her father was laid to rest.
That had been the only time - to her knowledge at least - that Aethan could have had an affair with Meve. Her brother might have more than a few past lovers out there, but children? She did not think him so foolish. She knew he held an affection for elven women, and had a major weakness for Redheads or gingers, but to knowingly have children with a woman other than his wife, never mind another independent monarch? That didn't feel like the brother she knew.
She didn't dare speak a word of this to anyone. Not even her betrothed - who shared her love of the library - for she did not trust the man whose counsel he heeded. Count Caldwell rubbed her the wrong way.
He was popular, but Atthis had learned not to always trust popular men. Or even just men in general. Of course, women were just as dangerous, her youngest sister especially so.
''Princess Atthis, Queen Meve requires your presence.'' A guard informs her.
''On my way.'' She says, quickly closing her book and returning it to the shelf it belonged to. Her betrothed was currently out riding, she had been unable to join him due to having been with Queen Meve at the time. Her betrothed, Prince Villem of Lyria and Rivia, though intelligent in his own right, was seen as something of a disappointment by his mother. Which is why the Queen had seen to her instruction personally. Seeking the chance to ensure that if Villem was to succeed her, he'd have good counsel beside him and her future grandchildren.
Still, she knew that her betrothed would also benefit from learning at his mother's side. But it was not her place to sya that. Though Meve did prefer people to speak their minds and speak plainly, court and noble etiquette rarely allowed her that luxury unless she was on the field of battle. Martial matters never interested her, she was far more inclined towards court intrigue and numbers and accounts. The reason she and her siblings graduated from Oxenfurt so early was because they all possessed an exceptional intelligence that was in turn supported by something else that was exceptional. In her case, she was charismatic, gregarious, and had a felicity for numbers and languages. Her two biggest weaknesses - if one could call it that - was that she was equal parts stubborn and kind. She enjoyed a dance of intrigue, but she'd never instantly try to end someone's life if she could help it.
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(POV Shift: Prince Stennis I Vengerin of Aedirn)
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Something had changed in the last few months. Cidaris seemed to take on a new and more Militant feeling. No, militant wasn't the right word. Organized and prepared seemed more appropriate. King Aethan had left on a pilgrimage to skellige, leaving the Queen in charge, his tutelage and that of Prince Anseis of Lyria and Rivia had been temporarily taken over by Ser Vissegard and other members of the King's Council. Through his time with Vissegard, Stennis had seen reports and strategies that indicated war was on the horizon.
He'd recognized certain parts of the reports and strategies that indicated his father would be participating in whatever was coming. He worried for his father, and his mother. The people he would one day lead were another concern for him, but that was outweighed by his concern for his father and mother.
His father would be expected to either plan the strategies being used, or help lead the armies. Both carried an inherent risk to his father's life, but there was also the concern that his mother could be targeted. The Queen - any queen at that - would be an invaluable bargaining chip. That was something King Aethan instilled in him from day one.
'Protect your Queen no matter what. Whether or not you love her is immaterial in war. She represents a crucial alliance and will birth your future heirs, if the enemy gets ahold of her…they can control you. If she isn't pregnant, who's to say an ambitious enemy noble won't make her so to give himself and his liege a key relationship to your greatest ally? Protect her, or your future is lost.'
That was the first lesson that King Aethan gave him.
It was sound in its thinking, but it didn't help his worry for his mother. His father's succession might've been secured through him, but his grandfather had no clear heir. Aedirn, like Kaedwen and Cidaris, followed male preference Primogeniture. His grandfather's only sensible heir was Stennis himself.
But he wasn't sure he was okay with that. One thing that his father had always cautioned him on was not so much the taking of land, but being seen to take it. Although he was legally able to inherit it, it was land that he would inherit and it could be seen as a power grab. Aedirnian primogeniture placed son's ahead of daughter's, however, in the event a daughter had sons before the births of any brothers, they stood to inherit ahead of those brothers. His grandfather had no sons, he had daughters.
But the lands of his grandfather were rich and fertile, they could be crucial to the financing of any of his future ambitions. This was a decision he had to weigh carefully.
''Always so in thought? Or are you just brooding?'' Asked a voice he'd grown…familiar with.
Princess Margaery Jaenerys, King Aethan's youngest sister, and a woman whom he would potentially marry someday. He wasn't sure what his feelings on that prospect or the Princess herself were. He learned early on to respect her.
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(POV Shift: Princess Zaoirya Karenzade Nivras of Ofier)
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How much had changed since the Tempest of Cidaris moniker had been acquired by Aethan? She was a veritable prisoner, but she was kept comfortable, and she had been granted a degree of influence and power within the Court and Kingdom. Everyone knew Aethan had claimed her as a Concubine, and there was power in that knowledge. Her lack of fertility wasn't known, but no doubt Aethan would inform King Foltest to placate him, even if his reasoning for claiming her was thin. She was too valuable and important to kill, yet she'd broken too many laws in the Kingdom to ever leave. Yet, holding her hostage amounted to what could result in a massive war. And the damage she could yet do is what prevented Aethan from forcing her to marry someone else.
So he was exercising his religious right of concubinage.
It was a solution that satisfied nearly everybody, including her father. As she was unable to produce any heirs, her value lay solely in symbolic marriage or concubinage. Becoming Aethan's concubine insured she could exercise greater power than in her own father's court or kingdom as well as profiting immensely both monetarily and personally. Though Queen Adda didn't like it or her for that matter, she'd accepted the arrangement because it benefitted her coming children and the Kingdom. Already, a greater influx of Ofiri goods were going through Cidarian ports and being sold by Cidarian Merchants for a steady profit. Cidaris had quickly risen to become the North's second richest Kingdom just behind Kovir, meaning it had eclipsed Novigrad as the Second Richest independent power in the North. That was quite the feat considering Cidaris was a comparatively small kingdom compared to the likes of Kovir or even it's neighboring Temeria. True, it had grown with the addition of Gors Velen due to the territory being part of Queen Adda's dowry, but it was still smaller than Verden, yet it was out producing the much larger Temeria in terms of economic profit.
It was a coup of sorts, attaching her ship so closely to Aethan's. One she would reap the rewards of for years to come, because just as freely as Ofiri goods entered Cidarian ports and were sold be Cidarian Merchants, Cidarian goods were entering Ofiri ports and being sold by Ofiri merchants the same way with the same amount of ease for twice the profit. In Ofir, beards were a status symbol of nobility and the leading merchant families, so having items that could improve one's beard was seen as a significant upgrade in status amongst the men in Ofir. Her father paid a premium for the oils and balms crafted within Cidaris at the direction of Aethan, and they had quickly supplanted the Dwarven Kingdom of Mahakam as the leading importer of them. That was nothing to scoff at since practically every dwarf, including the women had beards. The secret of making it was effectively a state secret, and was protected on a scale that Zaoirya simply couldn't otherwise fathom if not for the profits being made. She was the pipeline as Aethan called it, at least insofar as her Kingdom was concerned . She funneled the oils and balms into Ofir in exchange for allowing Aethan and the Cidarian Trade League to reap thirty percent of the overall profits. Aethan himself was given half that, and the Guild earned the remaining fifteen percent. Cidaris as a kingdom also benefited from approximately five percent in foreign export taxes.
Although normally she'd have been charged between ten and fifteen percent on foreign export taxes, Aethan ensured she dominated that part of the beard market by granting her a special tax rate in exchange for a higher profit being officially given to him. In truth of the fifteen percent she gave to Aethan, five was used by him to finance and fund her life within Cidaris, while the remaining ten was used by him to support the various construction projects Aethan had ongoing.
He had the makings of a great builder king, she'd seen some of his designs, he was an architect at heart, and an artist as well. The designs he'd done were masterfully done, and she'd increased her own standing by having Ofiri artists, architects, and cartographers added to her retinue. Her father, brilliant man that he was, saw her request for what it was, an attempt to curry further favor from an ally in the North - one whose influence and power grew by the day - through exploitation of his own interests. As she understood it, Aethan had inherited both a passion for artistic pursuits and an expansive collection of art from his late father.
Besides, before he'd left for Skellige on his pilgrimage, she'd seen his reaction to the news that various architects, artists, and cartographers were to join her retinue at court. Aethan had an intellect on par with her own, she'd seen his map room, he was having a room within the Palace painted to have the floor show a map of the known lands within the world. It was highly detailed and the surrounding walls were being decorated and painted to show various legends and stories.
A storyteller as well, it seemed Aethan was as well.
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(POV Shift: Bran an Tuirseach, Konung of Skellige)
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The day the great mother descended to visit the faithful on Hindarsfjall would be one no one would ever forget. The Skalds were already putting it into verse and song, and King Aethan had acquired significant acclaim and reverence by the faithful in Skellige.
His blade was now blessed by Freya, held an unearthly glow and contained an incredible power. Bran knew it to be enchanted already, but the blade now carried an incandescent glow of such a purity and magnitude, that Bran had no words to describe it.
Being summoned to Hindarsfjall along with the other Jarls had been a jarring and alarming experience, but seeing the blessed mother herself would be a memory that Bran would carry for the rest of his life. How much had they potentially misunderstood Bran wondered, in fighting to defend the Hart of Freya, King Aethan had proven worthy of an exceptional gift from Freya. What would have happened were he or Eist to have spared the Hart.
Would Eist still be alive? Or would Eist have replaced him as Konung of the isles as he'd previously hoped before the fall of Cintra. So many questions that could no longer be answered, for Freya had risen into the sky and returned to Tyr's side.
Though King Aethan might have been able to answer some of his questions, the foreign King had begged for a chance to pray privately at the shrine to Freya. Given the circumstances, the request had been granted.
''Where is he? Where is King Aethan?'' His thoughts are Broken as the Cidarian monarchs Court sorceress enters looking quite distressed and pale.
''What's happened?'' Something was very wrong, and Crach too it seemed had sensed that there was something wrong.
''I need to see him, it's….it's the Queen.'' That seemed worth interrupting the prayer session, if his guest's wife was the reason the sorceress was so distressed, then it would likely be crucial for Aethan to know.
''Follow me.'' Bran says, as he leads her to the main shrine moving with the urgency he senses radiating off of the young Mage.
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(POV Shift: Lucian Feld)
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This would end one way, but he was resolute in it's objective and outcome. Hanz had folded, Antso as well, and Mari. He wouldn't, he could not. He'd lost everything, now he'd take from the crown what the crown had taken from him.
Their future.
''Have you reached a decision?'' The queen asks.
''I have.'' He feels the weight of his weapon in his hand and reaches out quickly and slashes at her, feeling his blade hit flesh.
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(POV Shift: King Aethan I Jaenerys of Cidaris)
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Aethan felt numb.
His headed pounded with a massive headache.
He felt sick to his stomach.
All this feelings washed away in a sea of rage, as his hand tightened on his sword's hilt.
The journey had been cut in half, as Aethan had their ship teleported back to Cidaris and he had used the trek from the harbor to the Castle to gain a modicum of calm.
Someone had dared to harm his Adda.
They would pay…with their lives.
''Where is she?'' Aethan says, grabbing one of the guards. ''Where is my wife?'' He seethes.
''In the royal chambers.'' He releases the guard, and strides in the direction of the royal chamber.
He prayed silently, hoping Adda was okay….
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(Author's note:)
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And with that, the chapter is done. Bout fucking time. This took longer than I'd have liked. But it was worth it. Any way, work continues on the next chapter for DxD: The Joker of Spades and Pokemon: King of Kings, and hopefully Star Wars: That One Word Ordo. However, I have to finish that next chapter for DxD: The Magician Dragon King of Annihilation first. That's a wattpad exclusive for those that aren't in the know. In any case, find out what happens to Adda in the next chapter.
I've left the attack on Adda and Aethan's return deliberately vague by the way, need to build your suspense before the next chapter. Also regarding the white stag/hart, it's seen as a messenger or is associated with the gods, most notably in Celtic, Slavic, and Arthurian Legends. Figured it fitting given the upgrades to Aethan's Sword which you'll find some revelatory information about in the next chapter when Aethan gets his hands on Lucien Feld.
Anyway that's it for the Author's note, but please do try to remember that once again as always:
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Thanks to Mitchell Howard, David Martinez, ROGUE505 Saver, Mathew T Linderman, Luck George, Kyle Diano, Julien, Morgan Sinn, and Attila Kovács for their support on P-atreon.
And also a big thank you to Cody, Luci Alarra, TJ Cruz, Beastmode2003, Kunta, Availon90, Gavin Barclay, Dragonslayer29, Jacarya Robinson, Nathan Just, Francisco J Guzman, Axlii, Reece Hutton, Ken Harris, Zeldris Wrath, Duy, lonelynib _, Mudit Chadha, Austin, D3EATH707, Dwhateverprof, Cutler1812, and Aleksander_402, and Lewis Wilson for their past support on Patreon.
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