Black.
"You truly believe she will accept?" Asked the Sealbearer's voice.
"She has to." Answered Fredder's. "The Queen's foremost desire is to maintain order. Her son's future depends on it. She wants to avoid war more than anyone. She could reject my challenge. Declare me traitor. Imprison me. However, she would mull over the worst-case scenario of my proposition. Should she lose our Oath-bound and the regency goes to a vote, she has her own vote. Then Schar — her most certain loyalist."
"And that is why you are convinced she would'nt name him her champion for the duel." The Sealbearer remarked.
"A conservative mind seeks to mitigate the worst outcome than push for the best. She would favour a different champion. She would also seek to fill the two vacant council seats generously left by Harry and Rudeus Whyteleafe — with candidates loyal to her. That assures her four votes out of nine in the worst-case scenario."
"As things stand you are not even a competition."
"How harsh, Sealbearer. But true. Anyone with an eye will see only Satorii could be foolish and biased enough to back me for Regent. They will suppose the Queen's true competition will be Boren. Esq shall back him. Perhaps even General Tobii — perhaps not. And who knows what direction Lord Valda would swing? So you see? Our Queen's victory is all but certain. Or at least it appears so. That is why she would accept the duel which will prevent conflict."
"The game you wish to stage relies on our victory in the duel in the first place. Perhaps you are confident that I can defeat whoever she chooses as champion. But my Light and Shadow have limitations, and as a warrior I'm painfully aware of Elsemer Runemasters who can exploit my weaknesses."
"Oh?" Fredder's voice hummed — intrigued.
"Knyyt Dravane. His illusions could make it difficult for me to target the real him. Layla Yorke. She may be very young but she is the first ever Yorke to awaken Runecraft so they have her secluded in constant training. Last I… spied on the Yorkes, she could conjure up to eleven Flameflies. That is eleven autonomous constructs to worry about."
"Yorkes will never risk her in a life-or-death duel for the Queen's sake."
"There is also the one called Hunta. One of Schar's spies. His Invisibility Rune would pose a problem. I cannot target what I cannot see."
"Oh? Who else?"
"They used your own brother to arrest you. What if he is commanded to fight the duel next? Not that I'd mind disciplining Reuben where you failed but you would sooner yield the duel than see him fight in it, won't you?"
"I had almost forgotten how brutal you are whenever fragments of your old self resurface. But do not worry, my friend. Last time my enemies surprised me. This time…"
The Altar had stood since the founding of Elsem. In fact the Castle itself was constructed around this ancient place. The hall was unremarkable. Old seatings. Ancient walls. But nobles from every Sect assembled in absolute quiet — in the presence of bloodstained boulder around which all gathered.
The Oathstone — it was called. Dotted with hundreds of bloody palm prints that recorded centuries of Elsemer history. Its surface had long ago lost its original color beneath centuries of stains.
Some said the stone predated the kingdom. Some believed it was gifted to the ancestral inhabitants of the land by the Elsemer god, Astorbjorn himself. What everyone knew was that generations of rulers, nobles, and warlords had sworn Oath-Bounds upon it.
The gods witnessed all while the stone remembered.
The robed head priest stood between Fredderich Kaine and Queen Abigail — before the Oathstone. No guards here. Not a single weapon brought into this holy place. No lowborn peasant whose bloodline hadn't held high station for multiple generations — therefore General Schar and Lord Valda were missing in attendance.
The head priest needn't shout for his voice to carry across the absolute silence, "Let all gathered bear witness. Let the sects bear witness. Let the realm bear witness. And let the gods bear witness."
Outside the Altar's doors General Schar stood in waiting before a line of robed acolytes of the Astorbjorn's Temple. Listen as he tried, he couldn't hear anything coming from behind the round, stone door.
"Per ancient custom," the head priest continued, "those who enter the Oath-bound shall declare their terms before the realm's highest. Until the commencement of combat, either party may substitute their champion. Until the commencement of combat, either party may yield the Oath and suffer their sworn commitments. For once combat begins, neither mercy nor surrender shall be recognized."
The words settled heavily over the crowd.
"Only death shall settle the account." He finished. He then passed a sharpened shard of rock to Fredder.
Fredder sucked a breath. He pressed the sharp edge of the rock hard to his palm and tore his flesh. Clenching his bleeding palm, he spoke, addressing all witnesses. "I, Fredderich Kaine, upon the name of Kaine — hereby enter this Oath-bound on the terms that if I yield or otherwise my champion falls, I shall accept lifelong exile from Elsem and relinquish my birthright as Lord of Kaine sect."
The sharp rock was passed to Abigail. She did exactly as Fredder. "I, Eşil Abigailleraine Whyteleafe. Princess of Galorios and Queen of Elsem — hereby enter this Oath-bound on behalf of son Eielhart Whyteleafe IV. Reigning king of Elsem. On the terms that if I yield or otherwise my champion falls, I shall submit the question of the King's regency to the High Council by vote."
The terms were set. Both parties placed their bleeding palms onto the Oathstone, leaving their mark in history.
As Abigail withdrew her palm, she gazed into the fresh bloody print on the Oathstone. In that moment, surfacing doubt made her question if she had made the right choice.
She looked her bloody palm next. The stage shifted while her palm became bandaged now. Now, she sat at the gallery high above the ring of the castle's arena.
One after another, Runecaster Knyyts approached. Each knelt. Offered himself to be granted the honour of championing the Crown.
Abigail listened to each man proclaiming his skills and feats — before dismissing him. Half the time her attention remained on the sight of the Sealbearer down in the ring — sat on ground, meditating, waiting for his opponent.
Her bodyguard, Knyyt Dravane — who stood beside her seat suddenly pushed forward cutting between candidates and knelt before her. This snapped Abigail's attention fully.
"My Queen." He began — followed by a long pause as voices from unforgettable memories replayed in his head:
"You still carry the Dravane name like you deserve it. You are a two-time mistake."
"Maybe it is time for you to retire… while you still have your dignity intact."
"Your impairment makes others doubtful you can still be relied upon. Perhaps it's time you—"
"The Academy has re-evaluated your aptitude and no longer recognises your Runecraft at the heights of a Runemaster. Regrettably we must demote your rank."
Dravane pinched his eyes shut to silence the echoes of memory. He firmed his resolve and said to Abigail, "Let me champion you. I swear it, I will seize victory!"
"Your role is at my side not in the arena, Knyyt Dravane." Abigail answered. "Another will champion me."
Dravane rose back to his feet. Swallowed the rejection and returned to his post beside her.
Before the next man could approach, heads turned. The whole arena paid attention to General Schar as he arrived battle-ready in Elsemer breastplate and helm while cloud of shifting sand hovering behind him like a cape flapping in the wind. Any veteran of the 3rd El's War recognised this legendary sight of Schar of the Sandstorm — which others had only heard stories of.
The line of candidates parted for him. He took a knee before Abigail and said, "I will champion you, my Queen."
Abigail blinked. She remained quiet for a bit before she responded, "Approach, General."
When Schar stepped forward closer to her seat, Knyyt Dravane flicked a subtle finger. Thin, barely visible Runestrings manifested. Just like that the background noises ceased — even the sound of breeze. Sudden utter silence.
"Sound illusion," said Dravane, preventing Schar from getting startled. "No one outside this space can hear us — nor us them."
Schar glanced around. People around the arena seemed to be going about their businesses but their sounds muted to his ears.
"What are you doing?" Abigail scolded, "I tasked you to find someone who could counter the Kaine Sealbearer — but instead you stubbornly insist on fighting yourself? Have you not disappointed me enough times?"
"Forgive me, my Queen." Schar bowed his head. "To sit there and watch the same man who endangered your life disrespect you, disrespect Leonhart's legacy… I couldn't bear it. For the very reason that I played right into his hands, I must be the one to stop him."
"With everything as stake, Schar, now is not the time for self-serving vendetta."
"Not self-serving." Schar stepped closer, "Abigailleraine, it is because of the stakes that I cannot trust anyone else with this!"
To other people, Abigail and Schar seemed to be having a composed exchange. But that's a cover of Dravane's illusion. The real Abigail was far from composed. Tapping a foot to ground rapidly, nervous, conflicted and worried all at once.
Schar continued, "I swear to you. I swear on Leonhart's memory. I swear on Eielhart. I will win."
She looked away. Face rested on a palm — still tapping a foot to ground, a tear leaked from her eye. She wiped it away quickly.
"Please, let me…" Schar added in a low voice.
The arena was a plain field surrounded by three grandstands. Spectators were a sparse crowd of nobles, their guards and servants, Knyyts, and the neutral observers of the Astorbjorn's temple.
Schar and the Sealbearer now stood in the ring. Between them was the Head priest, his white robes stirred gently in the breeze. His gaze lifted toward the royal gallery in the northward grandstand where the Queen and High council resided.
"Queen Abigailleraine," he called. "Do you approve Schar of the Sandstorm as your champion — to kill or die for you in this holy arrangement?"
Abigail hesitated a moment before shouting her reply. "I do."
The Head priest turned to the eastward grandstand, to Fredder Kaine. "Do you, Fredderich Kaine — approve this man known only as Sealbearer — to champion you in this holy arrangement?"
Swirling a goblet of wine in his hand, Fredder answered, "No! I most certainly do not."
His response caused a stir. Heads turned. Several nobles exchanged murmurs and bewildered looks. In fact, the only person unfazed by Fredder's answer was the Sealbearer himself — who casually began walking out of the ring.
"If not him..." the Head priest said, "...then whom do you acknowledge as your champion?"
Slowly, deliberately, he rose from his seat while the Sealbearer returned to his side.
He pointed.
Everyone's eyes followed to the helmed bodyguard of Satorii.
"Brimmah the Runeborn." He announced, "Or rather, Brimmah the Runeborn of Kaine Sect — shall be my champion."
Brimmah's name on its own raised questions. Then the word 'Runeborn' that carried with it the implication of forbidden Rune.
The murmurs worsened.
"The traitor boy?"
"So the rumours were true."
"They really performed human enchantment on him?"
"An abomination."
"Can such a person even participate?"
Brimmah heard every word. His throat tightened beneath his helm, heart pounded at his sudden reality to face General Schar in a death duel.
He looked around; all eyes were on him. He looked to Satorii. Then to Schar. Then forced his feet forward toward the ring.
High above, Queen Abigail had not taken her eyes off Fredder. Not once.
The Lord of Kaine remained seated, wine in hand, appearing fully pleased with himself. The sight irritated her.
"Eminence." She voiced out to the Head priest below. "Lord Kaine's proposed champion might be a bearer of forbidden human enchantment. Can such an individual be allowed to participate in a holy Oath-bound?"
Before the Head priest could answer, her attention snapped to Fredder now moving down toward the ring. She instinctively stood up herself and headed down there. Dravane followed.
Boren and Esq stood.
Satorii seized the opportunity to leave that grandstand.
Brimmah stood blank in the ring. Helm removed, taking in the fresh air of the arena. These could be his final moments for all he knew. Hope and fear warring within him.
He remembered Caelis during his final moments. Then recalled how highly the party regarded Fredder Kaine — which had since made him wonder what kind of leader Fredderich was and why men would die for him without regret.
A hand suddenly rested on his shoulder from behind. "Scared?" Fredder asked into his ear, arm slung over his shoulder.
Brimmah gulped. "Does it matter? Orders are orders."
"The moment the duel is initiated," Fredder said, "No yielding or surrender by either the champions or oath-bound parties. But until then I can change champions many times as I want. You know what that means?"
"I…"
Fredder patted his shoulder. "Don't overthink it. Just know that you can refuse championing me. We never did get the chance to speak since your return. So I will tell you this now: You have proven yourself a true retainer of Kaine Sect. That is to say even if you choose to refuse this fight, you will remain under our protection. But I do encourage you wait until the last possible moment." He paused, looking toward Queen Abigail and her councilmen across the ring as they approached the Head priest to protest Brimmah's participation. Brimmah's attention was also drawn there.
"Because that's when you'll know whether you truly wish to walk away or not." Fredder added. With a final pat on Brimmah's shoulder, he left.
But not toward the Head priest. He returned to the stands instead.
Meanwhile, the Head priest explained to Abigail, "An Oath-bound concerns the involved parties — not the champions. We of the Temple are but proctors of this holy arrangement not its judge. Thus, it is not our role to judge how a champion is made. The gods shall judge that as they judge the oath itself."
It was exactly the sort of neutral, unhelpful answer she expected from the Temple.
Boren stepped forward protesting that by Elsemer law Kaine sect should be penalized for using forbidden Runes and Brimmah executed even.
Esq stood calm behind.
Abigail stepped aside exchanging whispers with Schar. "You see it too, don't you? We are playing into his scheme. He used the Sealbearer to lure you." Her voice restraining back panic.
"Evidently. But why him? Why the boy?" Schar replied. Schar was many things but never uncertain. But today, Abigail witnessed him struggle to understand Fredder's scheme. He asked almost to himself, "If he wanted to lose, he could have yielded before the duel begins. I heard the ongoing rumours about Brimmah from their Black Batch expedition but I was so concerned with the Kaine army outside our gates — to pay it much heed."
As Fredder walked up the grandstand, he was ambushed by Satorii. Only people like him who knew her well could read her frustration behind the mask of her heavy maquillage.
"It isnt a good look for a councilwoman to be conversing with an alleged traitor, you know?" He teased.
"I am not in the mood, Fredder. Please change your champion."
Fredder continued walking back toward his seat while she followed along. "You really care for him, I see. What have I told you about openly displaying affection, Torii? Fortunate for you mother isnt here today."
"He is my friend — not a life you should treat like a game piece to be sacrificed."
Right then, the Head priest's announcement came. "Brimmah the Runeborn of Kaine Sect will be allowed to participate in the Oath-bound."
The announcement paused Fredder's steps. He smiled, then told Satorii, "You should have more faith in your followers."
"No amount of faith will make him win against a Runemaster like Schar." She argued. "I don't know your plans but Brimmah is going to lose and you know it."
"I wonder about that…" With that he walked away.
Satorii left in a huff, making her way down to the ring. To Brimmah.
"I did not know he intended to pick you." She said, voice apologetic.
Brimmah looked his gauntleted hands. "As a soldier of Kaine sect, I will fulfil whatever duty is expected of me." He recalled the sight of Caelis's final moments. "He had no regret about it either." He looked Satorii. "My life belongs to—"
"I did not save you so that you life becomes disposable to us." She cut him short.
Stunned, Brimmah asked, "Why do you… care for someone like me? If not to fight for you, why did you save and protected me?"
"Because…" she struggled to answer then dismissed the question, saying, "Now isnt the time for that. You can still refuse and Fredder will just select another. I do not wish to see you in a death duel — both as your lady and…" she hesitated, "Your friend."
Her words caught him off guard. His question went unanswered but it didn't matter anymore. He nodded. "I will refuse." He agreed.
Meanwhile, on the other side, Abigail remained conflicted. When Schar turned to walk back into the ring, she called him back. Yet unable to understand Fredder's scheme, she frowned in thought while Schar called on her, while the Head priest also called on Schar to proceed for the duel.
"I will champion the Queen." Esq stepped forward all of a sudden. He stopped by Schar, shot the General a hateful frown — but his hatred wasnt for Schar. "Unless you wish to fight me for the right to end the worthless abomination." He added and advanced ahead with faint wisps of Runestrings rolling from his fingertips.
Before Schar could react, Abigail decided then and there. "I accept Headmaster Esq as my champion." She told the Head priest.
"No, my Queen. It has to be me!" Schar protested.
Abigail turned a deaf ear.
The Head priest acknowledged and so made the public declaration for all to hear.
"Do you, Eşil Abigailleraine, approve Esq Whyteleafe as your champion — to kill or die for you in this holy arrangement?"
The announcement snapped Brimmah's attention from Satorii. The sight of Esq lit a flame of hatred behind his eyes. In that moment, he understood what Fredder truly meant when he asked him to wait until the final moments.
Pulse racing, blood boiling, memories of his childhood at the Rune academy crashing with the events of his near execution. Brimmah unbuckled the sword at his hip and let it drop to ground. Hateful eyes locked on Esq as he told Satorii in a growl. "Forgive me, my lady but I cannot walk away… I need to kill him. I must!"
He walked ahead while peeling off his gauntlets, then unwrapping the Othren Seal cloth suppressing the enchantment in his arms.
Up on the grandstand, Fredder smirked. The Sealbearer sat next to him commented, "The board is set."
"And the pieces in place." Fredder finished.