Realm of Monsters

Chapter 607: Lady Goldelm

  Two hesitant rasps of knuckles knocked on the heavy oak door. Aric Goldelm glanced up from his desk. “Come in.”

  The door slowly swung open with a creak. Freya poked her head inside, the metal beads in her golden locks catching in the candlelight. “You wanted to see me, my lord?”

  “Freya, yes. Come in, please.” Aric gestured her over.

  She stepped into the room, one reluctant step at a time. Her gold eyes darted around the bookshelves and pedestals displaying rare and expensive artifacts. “It looks the same…”

  “I didn’t want to change anything. It doesn’t… It doesn’t feel like mine. It’s still—”

  “Our father’s room.”

  “Yeah,” he said softly.

  “But it isn’t. Not really. Not anymore.” Freya inclined her head. “You are Lord Goldelm now.”

  He cocked his eyebrow. “If this is your way of reminding me once again that you have no intention of fighting me for the lordship, believe me, I do understand the hint.”

  “Sorry, I just don’t want you to…” Freya fidgeted with her clasped hands. “You’ve refused to see me for three days. I don’t want you to feel— ‘uncertain’ around me.”

  “Uncertain?”

  She sighed. “I know what I did was wrong. The ambush at the terrace, I know you felt like it was a betrayal. I remember the way you looked at me. Believe me, if there had been another way I would have done it. I want you to know that I’m sorry for how things ended, that I’d never try to harm you, and that I will support you as my lord, I really do mean that.”

  Aric leaned back in his wheelchair and stared up at the ornate ceiling, it was a painting of their ancestral castle in the mountains surrounding Frost Rim. The firelight of the forge glowed in the darkness and a glimmer of Oginum’s light could be seen peeking out. “It’s beautiful, isn’t it?”

  “Huh? Uh, yeah, it is.” Freya looked up at the painting, occasionally sending a nervous glance at her brother.

  “It was commissioned when the Goldelms first arrived here, you know.”

  “I, um, I did not.”

  “The Ebon Lords divided the Villa District into slices of land, one for each of the Great Houses. When they granted us this plot of land our family had their best masons and carpenters begin to work immediately. Not on a castle, no, there was no need for such defenses thanks to the Shade Wall. We built this ‘gilded manor,’ a testament to our wealth and power.” Aric scoffed to himself, “Gods, it sounds vain when you think about it. I think our family had already begun to lose sight of its roots by that point. All except for this one room, this painting.”

  Aric stretched his hand out towards the ceiling. “It’s a reminder of where we come from. Lady Goldelm II was not the founder of our family, though she was the first to carry Oginum and the one who elevated our small obscure noble family into the Great House it is today. She wasn’t interested in riches or fame. No, she was an enchantress, a smith, and a warrior. She’d rather spend her time in the forge even deep into the late hours of the night than spend a day traipsing around in silk clothes and golden jewelry.”

  Aric sighed and gestured at the rest of the room and all its lavish artifacts and decorations. “She would have certainly hated all of this. I think our House grew vain and greedy the day we moved into Hollow Shade. It only got worse after the rebellion and the fall of House Thorn; when we became a Ruling House. We consolidated our power over the merchant routes running all across the realm and through this city. We forgot where we came from and why Oginum was gifted to us in the first place.”

  Freya glanced at the golden hammer hanging at her hip. “It’s yours, if you want it.”

Aric smiled bitterly. “You still don’t get it. I forgot where we came from, why the people named Oginum the ‘Light of the North.’ But you… You remembered. Even when all seemed lost, even when everyone around you was against you… You, sister, still charged into battle alone. You want to know why I refused to see you these last few days?”

  She nodded.

  “I wasn’t angry with you. I was ashamed of myself,” he admitted. “I was ashamed that I couldn’t see it. I couldn’t see the envy in Aunt Ingrid’s eyes, the hatred and malice she held for you.” 

  “You couldn’t have known.”

  “But that’s just it, I should have.” He ran his hands through his blonde hair and laughed sourly. “Gods, she actually told me not to worry and that she’d ‘take care of you, Freya.’ But I was so fucking ecstatic I had her support that I didn’t even think about the true meaning of her words. I was a fool who would have unwittingly let his sister die because of my greed.”

  Freya held her tongue. She didn’t know what to say. What could she say? Her chest was filled with a mix of tangled emotions. Aric was right. She had almost died because of Ingrid. Then again, Ingrid was dead because of her.

  “It isn’t your fault,” Aric said as if reading her mind. “None of this was your fault.”

  “But all those people—”

  “The soldiers that died that day, their deaths are on my hands. I am Father’s heir. He entrusted me to keep this family safe and I let a monster into our home. I would have danced to her every tune for the rest of my life if it meant securing the Goldelm throne. But you, Freya, you once again carved your own path through the darkness. Ingrid was wrong about you, Oginum isn’t what makes you special. Oginum chose you because you are special.”

  “I don’t know about all that, I got lucky with Oginum,” Freya chuckled self-deprecatingly.

  Aric looked at her, his expression solemn, yet proud, “No, sister. Oginum was right about you, don’t you ever doubt that.” 

  “...Thank you, that means a lot coming from you.”

  He rolled out from the desk and moved in front of her. “I know my body is broken and my days as a warrior are behind me. I know I’ve made unforgivable mistakes these past few days that could have cost our family everything. But…” With careful, slow motions, he pulled himself out of the wheelchair and knelt in front of her. “If you could offer this cripple a chance to right his wrongs, then I would follow you, my lady, even into the darkness. And if it were to be my end, then I would go into the Soul Chasm proud, for I served under the Light of the North herself.”

  “Brother, I—” Freya swallowed the lump in her throat, “You are the lord of House Goldelm.”

  He bowed his head. “You are the only lady I would follow, if you’d have me.”

  Freya knelt and embraced him. “If that is your wish, then I will try to live up to your expectations. But do not bow to me, brother. Not you, not ever.”

  He smiled, “Then we have an agreement.”

~~~

  “Is that all you’ve got?” Gale taunted.

  Stryg growled and swung his practice sword in a quick downward stroke. The blade flashed faster than one could react and yet, Gale reacted just the same. She deflected the blade, pushing the sword enough that it swung past her shoulder and hit nothing but air. Gale spun around and past Stryg, then slapped his back with the flat of her blade.

  Gale clicked her tongue. “It seems all that time with the Sylvan has dulled your sword skills.”

  Stryg clenched his sword tight and hurled the sword at her. She twisted her waist and dodged it effortlessly. The sword went flying and sunk halfway into the stone wall of the training courtyard.

  “And right there, that’s your problem,” Gale laughed. “You are too quick to anger. Worse, you’ve grown overconfident.”

  “I’m not overconfident. You’re a grand swordmaster, I simply can’t beat you in a duel. At least, not without magic,” he grumbled.

  Gale smirked. “You couldn’t beat me with magic either.”

  “I killed a dragonbane, didn’t I?”

  “Oh, right.” She put a finger to her chin and looked thoughtful. “The Astral Light obliterated the dragonbane and everything else in the sky. It was terrifying to witness, honestly; a blinding light like a second sun in the night. With that sort of power, I doubt there is anyone here who could stop you.” She clapped her hands together, “Alright, go ahead then. Show me your ‘true power’ and strike me down.”

  Stryg furrowed his brow. “I…”

  “What’s the matter? Come on. Smite me, oh great god of stars.”

  He glared at her, “I can’t.”

  “Hm? Come again?” She cupped her hand around her ear.

  “I can’t control it,” he muttered.

  “Oh, that’s right. You’re a godling who has no control over his titan powers whatsoever. The only thing you’ve gained and have some semblance of control over is your absurd divine strength, which albeit impressive, is useless against me. Why?”

  Stryg shrugged begrudgingly. “I don’t know. You’re faster than me.”

  “I’m a vampire, not a god. Even if I were to channel my life force to enhance my natural physical abilities I still wouldn’t be half as strong nor fast as you. So why couldn’t you land a single hit on me?”

  Stryg sighed. “You’re more skilled.”

  “Correct. You only felt that I was faster because I was anticipating your attacks before you made them. That sort of skill comes from years of dedicated training and an ability to read your opponent, which is easier when their emotions run high. So, wanna tell me why you’re so wound up?”

  “It’s nothing.”

  She planted the sword point into the ground and leaned on the hilt. “Uh-huh.”

  Stryg groaned and let himself backwards, arms splayed out. He landed with a heavy thud. Anyone else might have cracked their skull on the stone tile, but Stryg barely felt a twinge. 

  Several of the other Gales training in the distance turned at the sudden fall; even now, in the midst of their duels, their sense of protectiveness for their lord was as sharp as ever.

  Gale raised her hand in a simple gesture to her cousins and let them know everything was fine. The others nodded subtly and continued fighting amongst themselves.

  “It’s Lunae,” said Stryg abruptly.

  Gale turned back to him. “Is this about last night?” 

  “She didn’t let me go with them.”

  “Oh?”

  “The Veres army left last night to find the Cairn Tribe without me.”

  “I know.”

  “I was going to lead them.”

  “I remember. I was there.”

  “Well, do you remember when Lunae appeared out of nowhere and stopped me at the gate? She picked me up by the scruff of my neck and carried me away like some kind of pup in front of all the soldiers.”

  Gale recalled a similar occurrence a few weeks ago when Lunae and her had confronted the Noirs at their manor. “Does that bother you? Being carried like that?”

  “It’s not that. It’s the way she did it. I didn’t even get a chance to explain myself. She ignored me entirely as if I didn’t even have a voice in the matter.”

  “Lunae is very protective of you. She doesn’t wish for you to venture out into the valley right now. There are too many potential threats, and too many things that could go wrong. Caligo is still out there. As are Solis and the dragonbanes.”

  “I know that, but Lunae didn’t even hear me out. It’s like she doesn’t even care about my opinion.”

  “Maybe she doesn’t see it that way. You’re a child to her.”

  “What is that supposed to mean?”

  Gale scratched her cheek. “That things are more complicated than what they seem.”

  “Meaning?”

  “Look, I was talking to Lunae; I wanted to know more about your people.” Gale sat next down to him. “You’re part of an elder race, Stryg. Even Melantha is seen as an adolescent to Lunae and she’s over 400 years old. You’ll age slower than others and that’s okay.”

  “...No, it’s not.” The thought of the people around him aging while he didn’t bothered him more than he wanted to admit.

  Gale caught the troubled look in his eyes and touched his shoulder comfortingly. “Lunae wants you to be safe, that’s all.”

  “Oi, Stryg!” Jahn called out from a distance. Gian trailed behind him.

  “Uncle Jahn?” Stryg cocked his head to the side.

  “I was looking for you,” said Jahn as he walked over. “Uncle Gian told me that you were out here training, but I found you lazing around on the ground. The vampires have made you soft.”

  “We are not soft,” said Gale politely and resisted the urge to hiss at him. He was a Veres and she owed him respect. It didn’t help that she had attacked him when they first met; a moment that still plagued her.

  “Indeed. Though, why are you two on the floor?” Gian cocked an eyebrow. “The training courtyard is for training. If you wish to take a break, I suggest sitting on one of the benches.”

  “Thank you, uncle, but we are done resting.” Gale dusted off her pants and jumped to her feet. “Go fetch your sword, Stryg.”

  Stryg nodded.

  Jahn frowned. “Sword? You’re still training with those things?”

  “Yeah?” he answered.

  “Stryg is the wielder of Krikolm. The sword is the Veres’ weapon of choice,” explained Gale.

  “Doesn’t he also have that orichalcum spear? I’m sure he would do well training in the spear,” said Jahn.

  “It has been a while since I trained with a spear,” Stryg admitted. He had barely touched Svartna since his fight against the dragonbane. The black spear was collecting dust in his bedroom.

  “See, there it is. A chieftain must train in the way of the spear,” Jahn nodded.

  “That may be, but the lord of House Veres must be trained in the way of the sword,” said Gale.

  “Are you saying your sword is greater than the Sylvan spear?” Jahn crossed his arms.

  “Yes,” Gale said proudly. “My family’s swordsmanship is the greatest in the entire Ebon Realm, it is a well-known fact.”

  “In that case, care for a quick spar?” said Jahn.

  Gale chuckled. “As you wish, Lord Veres.”