Prince of Nothing

"By the gods, you are quite the bastard, aren't you?" The older man let his scarred elbow rest on the polished table as he stared down at the young boy, a pondering expression coming across his features as he then rested his face on his palm, very clearly deep in thought. 

"Mhm." Rayne uttered with a mischievous grin, staring down at the table between them. He held his arms crossed, victory was all but a certainty. Of course it was, Riker had never been able to beat him at shields, the game required a certain finesse and overview that he just seemed to lack. For Rayne on the other hand, it seemed almost second nature. 

The game itself was something for commoners to pass time, Riker had said it was an ancient game once played by mighty kings, but Rayne didn't much believe that. After all, if it was, how would Riker have gotten his hands on it? Especially in this corner of the Empire. Well, the game consisted of a few wooden pieces, some which were lost and had to be once more arduously carved, as they very well could not find another set, and a board sorted into distinct areas. Each piece was assigned statistics for attack and defense, with some pieces like footmen, mounted knights, archers and otherwise.

The board itself was quite large, and two dice were required for the game. Rayne had initially been confused at the prospect of it, especially when Riker had hauled it home in a large bag, but now, he was just two turns away from surrounding Riker's footmen with his cavalry, and exposing his king to his archers. The most important piece of the game was the king, and his guard. The king was a single piece and the guards were two, the death of the king meant capitulation. Instant loss.

"I really do regret teaching you." Riker added with overemphasized dismay as his shoulders sank and he sighed, his king was dead. Just as planned. Rayne watched the older man's grey eyes with a smug smile,

"All part of the game Rike, guess I don't have to make that run tomorrow, do I?" 

Riker scratched his temple lightly, then twirled his dark hair with his finger, an old habit of his. 

"I suppose not, you got off lucky this time Rayne. Don't count yourself so lucky next time." Riker's demeanor softened as he chuckled, and it was Rayne's turn to sigh, now in relief. Tomorrow was when the deliveries were made to the village, and it was a dreadfully long trip. Half a day to get to the village and come back, what a pain. 

"But that doesn't excuse you from feeding the horses tonight." Riker added as he stood up from the table, stretching. 

"I know, I know." Rayne stated as he too stood from the table, eyes once more falling to the table. He couldn't help but smile at his own ingenuity. 

Rayne did as he was told, feeding the horses was simple. Just a chore to keep himself busy. That was all the farm seemed to be, but he was content. Riker was his uncle, but it was the closest thing he had to a father, who he was told died when he was younger, and his mother, along with him. He was an orphan, an orphan on a farm. An orphan who had saved himself a trip to the village. He smiled as he sat outside the stables, letting himself fall to the ground as he leaned against the wooden wall. He watched the fields and red dyed skies, a gentle breeze caressed his face. 

He was an orphan, but he was happy. Riker didn't like to talk about his parents, nor the fact they lived so far from the closest village. 'More farmland, and why the heavens would I want to live closer to that stink fest you call a village?' Rayne chuckled as he pondered. Riker seemed more like a noble, those who he read about in the few books they'd find in the village. He hated the filth, and always insisted Rayne be the same. 

That's why he was always so uppity about chores, and all the tedious tasks that had to be done around the farm. Everything had to be up to his liking, or he'd force Rayne to do it again. The one time he'd rebelled he'd gone a day without food. He shuddered just thinking about it. But aside from, few very, harsh punishments, he was a kind man. 

Rayne stood from his seat beside the barn and yawned, the setting sun lighting the sky in the distant, streaks of yellow and reddish hues marking the skies as dark purple began to overtake the grand space above. Night arrived, and Rayne slept. 

He awoke with the dawn, preparing himself for another day of chores, light reading, and maybe even baking if he could find the ingredients. The farm wasn't as downtrodden as one would expect a farm to be, especially with Riker's supervision. They had running water, indoor toiletry and even mirrors, which Riker had picked up off a traveling merchant. 

He watched his reflection in the clear mirror. A boy with mid-length dark hair, tanned skin and green eyes stared back. All the work on the farm had done his body well, he was as fit as he should be. He wore a loose long-sleeved linen shirt, and some dark trousers, not too bad for a farm-boy, at least he thought so. The rest of the morning went as expected, Riker had already left for the village, and he'd likely be back before nightfall. In the meantime, there was work to be done.

Animals to be fed, crops to be tended to, and on the list went. It was all down a bit past noon. The farm itself was considerably large, built upon a clearing in an otherwise dense forest, with a single dirt road leading to the village, and nowhere else. It meant something, this road to the outside world.

The village of Frey's Wood, or that's what it was called on the map, was part of the region that bordered the Crow's Mountains, which Rayne thought was an odd name for a mountain range. It was the very edge of the Empire. A very desolate, yet also seemingly boring place. 

Well maybe one day Rayne would venture onto it, but for now, he would have to suffice with watching the farm, and watching the clouds pass beside the stables. 

Riker didn't return that day.

Another day passed. 

Riker was absent once more.

By the second day of his uncle's absence, Rayne was overcome by anxiety, but he knew what he needed to do. His mind was overflowed with possibilities. There were a thousand things that could've occurred to his uncle while he was at the village, murder, sickness, an accident? Maybe the village was attacked by bandits? He paced back and forth within the living room of their house on the farm. He quickly packed a few day's worth of supplies, and got a horse ready for the trip. He placed the saddle onto charger, his uncle's favorite horse. They only had two, so he always said they were both his favorite horses. Rayne cursed silently as he hopped over onto the horse and rode out of the farm and onto the dirt road, the horse neighing quietly as it acknowledged Rayne, as if questioning their trip. He'd never ridden him alone, with no attached like this.

He gave one last glance at the farm from the tree line, having locked up and ensured the animals had food for at least another week, and even then they could likely escape. The three buildings and field would hopefully still be standing by the time he returned...if he returned.  He didn't dwell on it. Instead, he held the reigns carefully and beckoned charger onward.

Half a day was wasted in silence, until Rayne could see smoke on the horizon, below it, distant fires burned within the village of Fray's Wood. When he arrived at the village itself, what he saw was no longer fitting to be called a village. It was a smoldering ruin, corpses littered the streets. The smell of burning and rotting flesh pierced his nose. Rayne dismounted from his horse, slowly walking down the main road that led to the center of the small village. A well stood there, untouched by the chaos around it. He approached the well, it was surrounded by corpses, and the stench made his nose wrinkle. These corpses were at least a day old. Whoever had done this was long gone. 

He looked around, surely, his uncle was not one of these, surely he survived. He remembered Riker's smile just a few days before, the night before he left. If he had lost that stupid game, if he had let Riker win. He wouldn't have gone. 

Rayne wandered the village as the hopelessness set in. Corpse after corpse, he lost count after he found a small family slaughtered in their home. The man was stabbed at the door, a woman with her children not far after.

Some houses were still burning, some of the fires still hadn't gone out. Rayne found himself at the well once more, the stench of death still strong on his nostrils as he cried out for his uncle, likely among one of the corpses somewhere, just out of sight. 

"Why him? Why did it have to be him?!" He yelled out loud. Only the dead would hear him. 

He cried softly as rain began to fall on the region, flames silenced and burned homes rendered wet ash. The lonesome boy sat beside the well, regret plaguing his mind.  He wasn't alone for long. Rayne glanced at his surroundings. He could hear horses, several, were the bandits coming back? He quickly rose to his feet, sniffling and wiping tears from his face as he looked for someplace to hide. If they found him, he would be next.

Would he join the dead, or fight to survive? His uncle was already dead, he's lost everything. This was the only family he'd ever known. But did he want to die? That was another question, one which had a very clear answer. 

Driven by the urge to survive he slipped behind a house, back to the wall as he waited for the horses. He would find his way out of this one, and then find his uncle's body. At least he would try to give his uncle a proper burial, a final resting place. A mercy he wished had been given for his parents.