Dorthalen: A History of a Whisper Chapter 1
"If men should fall like the snow"
The colossal gates of Resava groaned open. The soldier, riding his horse into the city, did not even bother to straighten his slumped shoulders, a hangover from the weariness of the night. The barracks was not far, but every step seemed to weigh heavier. The report was in his pocket. There was little to say.
Every street in the city seemed to hold a secret. People walking without speaking a single word to one another mirrored the soul of Resava. Here, people did not talk; they only whispered, and these whispers were like a harbinger of a great event that was to occur that day.
There was a familiar bustle in Resava. Some carried bread, some stacked wood, and others looked up at the high ramparts of the castle, as if they sensed something was about to happen. Amidst all this, the castle gates opened, and 10 mounted soldiers scattered through the cold streets of Resava, beginning to whisper the great news to the public.
"Lord Tsiron Lanish is dead!" The old blade of these lands was broken, and its place was left to sturdy, young swords.
The people of Resava, having lost their old blade, began to gather around the main castle with a silence befitting Resava, to greet their new blade. Resava Castle, with its high towers and splendor, blocked the sun and cast its shadow over the gathered populace. Some could not hold back their tears, some were already discussing the new leader, and some wandered senselessly around the castle, not even knowing why they were there.
The coronet worn by the Lord was placed on an adorned stone in the castle courtyard, and soldiers had formed a corridor from the stone to the castle gate. Swords in hand, they awaited Resava's new lord.
Lord Tsiron Lanish's eldest son, Berric Lanish, emerged from the castle gate, wearing golden-colored armor embroidered with a lion and a long red cape on his back, and began to slowly take his steps. With every step, two knights on either side knelt, and the sound of the soldiers' knees hitting the ground rapidly echoed through the streets of Resava.
Berric Lanish reached the stone where the coronet was placed. He threw his red cape back fiercely with both hands and knelt. Maester Mon, the sage of Resava Castle, waiting to crown the new lord, drew his aged hands from within his black robe. The golden ring on his right ring finger indicated that he was one of the few maesters in Dorthalen.
As the Maester placed the coronet on Berric Lanish, there was an old man and a small child whispering to each other in the crowd. While all the people enthusiastically greeted the young lord, the old man and the child recited the poem that was the soul of Dorthalen.
"If men should fall like the snow
If a child should love his father so
If knights from the battle would go
Would this sorrow ever end, though…"
Chapter 2
"The King in the North"
The snow-covered gates of Thargron city opened for a hunting party of 20. The castle watchmen shouted, "Rickon Karlen has returned!" The people of Thargron, however, paid little mind to the king's son returning from this ostentatious hunt. As Rickon and the riders quickly advanced into the village, the common folk continued their unextraordinary tasks. Thargron city was peaceful, watching the sun approach its setting.
Rickon broke away from the crowd and quickly entered the castle courtyard. He dismounted, and two soldiers immediately came and led Rickon's horse to the stable. Rickon, meanwhile, walked swiftly towards the castle. He wasn't angry; it was as if he was bored with Dorthalen's current state and desired some excitement.
He quickly went to the map room, where a few commanders respectfully bowed and said, "Welcome, Lord Rickon." Rickon gave them a quick nod and sat down at the work table. It was a document about merchants entering and leaving the city; he quickly read and signed it. Then the next, and the next, until the sun had set. At the hour when children's games ended and people began returning to their homes, a raven arrived at one of the high towers of Thargron Castle.
The duty soldier quickly spotted the parchment the raven carried. It bore the seal of the Lord of Resava. He took the parchment and began to descend the tower with quick steps.
Meanwhile, Rickon was still at his table, writing letters to the banner lords.
He got up from the table, just about to leave the room, when the door burst open with a loud noise. The soldier who entered bowed before the lord and extended the parchment, sealed with the sigil of the Northern Knights, to Rickon. The soldier said, "It just arrived, my lord." Rickon took the parchment and began walking towards his chamber.
As he walked towards his room, he ran a hand through the beard on his chin, contemplating what the news was and how it would affect the future of this realm.
He arrived at his room. He took a candle from his table, lit it, opened the parchment, and began to read.
"Lord Tsiron Lanish of Resava died last night. Resava's new lord is Berric Lanish."
Rickon's eyes widened.
This was very important news and needed to be delivered to Wolfstone immediately.
Putting aside the political aspect of Tsiron's death, Rickon was also very saddened by the news. Lord Tsiron had been by Rickon's side even when he was a small child; he had grown up listening to the victories he and his father Verais had won. But now Lord Tsiron was gone, and there was news he urgently needed to deliver to his father.
A raven or a messenger could not be sent with this important news; Rickon had to go personally. He immediately gathered five trusted men and set out from Thargron without even waiting for the morning.
Rickon Karlen and his five men sped through the wind on their horses, heading towards Wolfstone.
(A few hours later, Wolfstone)
The first light of morning was almost dim against the splendor of Wolfstone Castle. King Verais Karlen was not yet awake, his son Thenon Karlen was busy with the castle's daily affairs, and his daughter Natelyn was walking with her brother Edgon.
There was a preparation in the castle today because Edgon's sword training was set to begin. Other than this, Wolfstone was as quiet and peaceful as ever; no one in the castle knew that news that would break this silence was rapidly approaching in Rickon's hand.
In Wolfstone, the sun had just passed its zenith and was preparing to set. Thenon was practicing swordplay with his brother Edgon, while Nortelyn was watching the waves with her father from one of the castle's windows.
It was at this hour that Rickon and the five soldiers behind him reached the Wolf Coast.
Soldiers who met them on the shore immediately prepared two boats to take them across, while a man next to Rickon asked:
"How long has it been, my lord?"
Rickon replied:
"Seven years. It's been seven years," he said. Seven years since he had left his father and siblings to govern Thargron.
Thenon, who was in the middle of a sword exercise with Edgon, was surprised to hear that Rickon had arrived.
Thenon, curious, and Edgon, excited, began to walk towards the castle gate to greet their older brother.
Rickon quickly entered the castle courtyard. He stopped in front of the two colossal wolf statues, the symbol of Wolfstone. His five soldiers behind him also entered the castle, and Edgon ran and hugged his brother:
Rickon:
"Edgon, you've become a big man."
Edgon hugged his brother and showed him his sword. Rickon looked at the sword, which had a wolf carving on the tip, for a while and said:
"A sword perfectly suited for you," and handed the sword back to Edgon.
After the excited embrace of Edgon, Thenon arrived with slow steps.
Thenon and Rickon walked towards each other with a smile on their faces.
Rickon suddenly delivered a soft punch to Thenon's stomach, and Thenon staggered. Both burst into laughter and hugged.
After all the greetings and warm moments, Rickon became serious.
Rickon:
"Where is father?"
Thenon:
"Come, he's waiting for you inside."
The three wolves: Rickon, Thenon, Edgon.
Began to walk towards the chamber of the magnificent King Verais Karlen.
As the three wolves walked slowly towards the king's room, Verais Karlen was telling his daughter about the Battle of Rvely Valley, the time they were ambushed in the valley with Tsiron Lanish.
Verais:
"We had fallen between 500 men and 2,000.
My brother Tsiron was with me.
We were in the middle of hell."
(Rickon enters)
Rickon:
"Rvely Valley again, Father?" (laughing)
Verais:
"We were ambushed in that battle because of the watchmen who abandoned their post.
Tell me, what kind of disaster will abandoning your post lead to?"
Rickon's face fell.
After glancing around the walls of the King's chamber for a moment:
"I would never abandon Thargron if it wasn't something important," he said.
He waited a moment, caught his breath, and extended the paper in his hand to his father.
Verais Karlen opened the parchment.
When he received the news of Tsiron's death, his eyes widened first, then he whispered:
"Something big is going to happen."
Then he began to shower the soldiers next to him with orders.
He was going to meet with the Lord of the Riverlands.
Chapter 3 — "Old Friends"
The Riverlands, fertile lands with plenty of wind, still bore the scars of the great war.
The Cavellyn River, the largest of the rivers from which this realm took its name, continued to flow with all its bounty.
Amidst the wide plains and ruined villages,
the holy city of Caldwell Hold stood at the confluence of the three rivers.
Caldwell Hold was known as the "Castle That Never Fell."
The Tharnric Family, the rulers of this city, were famous for their pride.
Galren Tharnric had fought alongside Verais and Tsiron in the great war;
he had defended his city against the dragon armies during the war.
⸻
The news of Lord Tsiron Lanish's death reached Caldwell Hold just as it had reached the North.
Galren was sitting with his advisors, discussing the decision he would make for the Riverlands.
While Lord Galren was contemplating what to do in Caldwell Hold,
a white raven landed on one of Caldwell Hold's stone towers.
The soldier who received the message from the raven quickly descended the tower and rushed into the map room.
He handed the message in his hand to Cerwyn, the maester with the blue ring of Caldwell Hold.
Maester Cerwyn opened the message, quickly read through it,
and turned to Lord Galren, who was waiting with an excited expression on his face:
"Verais Karlen is coming to the Riverlands, my lord," he said.
Around the time Galren Tharnric received the news, Verais Karlen, accompanied by his son Thenon and a northern unit of 200 men, was advancing towards Caldwell Hold.
Rickon had returned to Thargron, and Edgon was governing the North under the guidance of Cassel Braws, the loyal servant of the North, in Wolfstone.
Verais was telling his son Thenon his war stories.
He told him how he went to war at the head of the army at the age of 19, how his older brother Rickon died in the great war, and most importantly, about the dragon he killed.
Thenon had listened to these stories for years,
but each time he listened with admiration and wished to grow up to be a warrior like his father and tell his own stories.
Also with them on this journey was Thenon's cousin Nedar Karlen (28), who was the commander-in-chief of the army.
Nedar was older than Rickon; he should have been the heir to Wolfstone but wasn't — but he didn't have a problem with that.
Yet.
⸻
While Nedar and Thenon were chatting, Caldwell Hold appeared on the horizon.
"The unassailable castle," Nedar said softly.
Thenon was seeing Caldwell Hold, which he had heard about in epics, for the first time.
It wasn't as large as exaggerated in the epics, but it was magnificent nonetheless.
Caldwell Hold, at the confluence of the three rivers, awaited its northern guests.
⸻
Lord Galren had decorated the entire city in honor of his old friend's arrival and surrounded the paths the northern unit would take with soldiers.
The banners of House Karlen and House Tharnric hung side by side on the streets.
King Verais Karlen led the way, with his son and nephew behind him, entering Caldwell Hold. As the northern unit of 200 men rode their horses towards the central castle, the people of Caldwell Hold watched the warriors passing in front of them with curiosity.
The decision to be made in this meeting could determine the fate of Dorthalen.
Verais Karlen and his 200 warriors entered the central castle, leaving the curious eyes behind. As Verais dismounted, Galren walked towards him, and they hugged.
Galren: How many years has it been, 15?
Verais: It has been 20 years, my brother, 20 years.
After Galren and Verais shared their reunion, he spoke with Nedar and Thenon in turn.
Galren: Nedar! The last time I saw you, you were an 8-year-old boy; you've become a true warrior. You look just like your father.
A silence followed Galren's words. Galren, noticing this, made a gesture with his hand and said, "Let's talk at the feast," and they all entered Caldwell Hold Castle.
When they entered the legendary Caldwell Hold castle, Galren Tharnric's son,
Jon Tharnric, was there, and they all entered the lord's hall together.
Tables had been set up for the soldiers and commanders, and everyone took their places.
Before the feast began, Galren Tharnric stood up and raised his cup:
"To my northern brothers, may our friendship always be this strong,"
he said and sat down again.
In the Lord's great hall, food was eaten, wine was drunk, songs were sung, and it was time to discuss the main issue. Verais and Galren moved to a private room and began to talk.
Verais: "We must send an envoy to the new lord of Resava. It should be a message reminding him of our friendship."
Galren: "The most suitable person for this embassy mission is my brother Eward Tharnric.
I will tell him to prepare. He will leave tomorrow."
As night fell, Nedar and Jon were drinking and chatting,
while Verais and Galren were busy writing the letter the envoy would deliver.
Within the stone walls of Caldwell Hold Castle, Thenon was silent.
He felt a restlessness inside.
He sensed that something big was going to happen,
and he wondered where he would be in the midst of these great things.
While walking through the corridors with all these deep thoughts, he bumped into a girl.
As he raised his head to apologize,
he couldn't believe his eyes — she was a beautiful, angelic girl.
Moreover, she was Lord Galren's daughter.
Before Thenon could say anything, the girl turned and
"Excuse me, my lord,"
she said and walked away quickly.
Thenon was stunned by what had happened, turned back, and followed the girl. He took the hand of the fast-walking girl and apologized for bumping into her, then said:
-My Lady, I know you are Lord Galren's daughter, but I do not know your name. Will you tell me your name?
Yana: My name is Yana, Yana Tharnric.
Thenon: Thenon Karlen.
Yana: I know, my lord, I saw you with King Verais. Everyone in the North of Dorthalen knows the Karlen family.
Thenon: You are right. I would like to talk to you more; I assume you are going somewhere. May I accompany you to where you are going?
Yana: Of course, my lord.
Yana had been summoned by her father, Galren, to help with the letter that was to be written. When Thenon and Yana entered the room where Verais and Galren were together, Verais looked at Thenon for a moment but then turned his attention back to the letter. With Yana's help, the letter to be sent to Resava was finally completed.
"Berric Lanish, leader of the Northern Knights and Lord of Resava, your father's death is a wound that bleeds in the hearts of the Karlen and Tharnric houses as well. However, though the great Tsiron Lanish is dead, the friendship we forged with him still lives. With the wish that the Karlen-Lanish-Tharnric alliance may live forever."
The letter was ready, sealed, and handed to Eward Tharnric, the head of the 20-person embassy delegation. Eward bid farewell to his brother and nephews and set off towards Resava.
Verais, Nedar, and Thenon gathered in Verais's chamber.
Nedar was reporting to his uncle Verais about the status of the 200-man unit. Thenon, meanwhile, was sprawled in one of the large chairs, staring at the ceiling.
He raised his head and looked at the sun, then quickly left the room and began walking towards the castle garden. He was wearing an outfit with a crossed-spears symbol, and he stepped out into the garden. Yana was there, watering the plants next to the flowers.
-You seem to be interested in flowers, my lady.
-Oh! I didn't see you coming, my lord.
Thenon looked at Yana. She was wearing a blue-grey dress suitable for the Caldwell Hold weather. Her hair was down, draped over her back.
Thenon took Yana's arm, and they began to walk in the flower garden.
Thenon, unaware of the great duties awaiting him in the future, enjoyed the walk with Yana.
Every step they took in the flower garden filled them with peace and increased their mutual interest.
Chapter 4: Resava's Reply
The city of whispers, Resava, was as silent as ever. The diplomatic group sent by Berric Lanish to negotiate an agreement with the Southern Knights had returned and was advancing from the city streets towards the castle.
Meanwhile, Berric was conversing with Maester Mon, Dorthalen's greatest maester, in his room.
-Maester, what is friendship? Is friendship inherited?
-The answer to the question of what friendship is, is up to you, my lord, but the question of whether friendship is inherited is a good one. You see, lo—
The representative of the diplomatic team entered and announced that he had a report to give. Berric apologized to the maester and left the room. The maester only smiled.
As Berric Lanish walked with quick steps, his eyes lowered, the representative of the diplomatic team told him that the Southern Knights had refused to make an agreement.
After listening to the diplomat, Berric quickly went up to his room. He set his coronet aside and took off his clothes. He put on a long yellow robe. He took out four long candles from a small chest. He lit the candles one by one and slowly arranged them in front of him. Then he knelt in front of the four candles and closed his eyes.
He thought about the meanings represented by the four candles: the God of the North, the God of the South, the Unknown God, and the Drowned God.
He first thought of the God of the North: "Honor and honesty," he said without opening his eyes, then he thought of the God of the South: "Fertility," he said.
When he thought of the Unknown God, he said, "Fate and death."
When he thought of the Drowned God, he said, "Journey," and opened his eyes.
There was a brief silence. Berric noticed his wife Margery approaching the door. She was wearing a day dress and her hair was loose around her face.
-You've been praying to the gods a lot lately.
-Is that a bad thing?
-No, of course not, but you don't have to keep your worries to yourself.
Berric kissed his wife on the forehead and left the room. He began to walk towards Maester Mon to complete their unfinished conversation. As he walked, he was thinking about the question he had asked:
Is friendship inherited?
He had inherited a city and large lands from his father. But his father's friendships, would they be inherited too?
⸻
At the same hour, Eward Tharnric and the diplomatic group,
The 20-man diplomatic group had camped on the bank of the Knight's River.
It was almost dark, and fires were lit. The reason this river was called "Knight's" was that its western end flowed into the sea near Resava. Those who followed this river would eventually reach Resava.
Edward Tharnric: Galren Tharnric's younger brother. An honorable knight of the Riverlands. He sat by the fire, his brown cloak thrown back. He could hear the sound of the Knight's River. He thought, he anticipated what would happen in Resava when the air brightened. He drew his dagger. He swung it a few times in his hand, then put it back into his belt.
Then he looked up at the sky…
As the morning light began to strike the west of Dorthalen, the magnificent Resava appeared in the distance. White concrete walls and four tall towers…
Edward and his group sped up their horses and arrived in front of the Resava gate.
Resava's colossal gates opened for Edward this time.
As Edward and the soldiers behind him slowly proceeded through the streets of Resava with their horses, there was immense tension between the River Knights and the Resava soldiers.
They were actually friendly houses, but the friendship seemed to have been damaged since Beric Lanish took the head of the Northern Knights. Edward's mission was exactly this: Who is a friend? Who is an enemy?
Berric Lanish was watching the crowd at the entrance from the balcony of Resava Castle overlooking the city gate. The city of Resava was not built on a large plain like Caldwell Hold; instead, it was built on a hill. Resava Castle was located exactly on this hill. The fact that the castle was above all other buildings in the city added great splendor to the "Lord of Resava" office.
As Edward rode towards this castle, he raised his head as if he wanted to see Berric, but the setting sun behind the castle prevented him from seeing it.
Wolfstone Castle
The doctors of Wolfstone Castle were in great panic. Prince Edgon had woken up with a scream that echoed through the castle, and he hadn't said anything since waking up; he was sweating like water. The doctors thought he was in shock due to something he had seen in his dream. For this reason, they left one doctor and an extra guard by the prince, and began to wait for it to pass with time.
Meanwhile, Edgon was lying straight in his bed, watching the stone walls, and recalling the dream he had seen.
A man… no, it wasn't a person he saw. It was a war, but it was a war so big that he couldn't imagine it; countless people were mercilessly slaughtering each other as far as the eye could see. Edgon watched them for years in his dream, but the war never ended; all he saw were dismembered people, shouting warriors, and dead bodies.
Edgon sat on a throne in his dream. This throne was in the middle of the war, but no one noticed him. The throne stood on the dead bodies. Edgon noticed that the sounds of the battle around him were muffled.
After a few seconds, the sounds completely disappeared. People were still fighting, but Edgon couldn't hear their voices at all.
He got up from his throne and began to walk; he walked out of the battlefield. He walked for a long time, literally in the middle of nowhere and hearing nothing.
He saw a mountain ahead; a horse suddenly appeared beneath him, and he started running towards the mountain at full speed on the horse. Now he could hear the sounds of nature and the horse.
As he advanced, he realized that this mountain was the mountain of the gods. He shouted! But something terrifying happened:
Edgon couldn't hear his own voice.
He tried to shout at the top of his lungs, but his own voice didn't come out. He could hear the sounds of everything but himself. It was at this moment that he woke up.
Maester Mors of Wolfstone Castle and the guard Cassel Braws were sitting by the sweating prince, waiting for him to say something. Finally, when Edgon calmed down, he was able to explain a little.
"There was a war," he said. "It was very big," he added. Cassel and the other guards thought the prince was very frightened by the dream he had seen. Cassel had already gotten up and started to leave the room, but Maester Mors was thoughtful; he recalled a rumor he had heard years ago at the school of saints.
The crowd of soldiers gathered in the prince's room had already dispersed, and everyone had returned to their duties. Only Edgon, still lying in bed, and Mors, thoughtfully scratching his beard, remained in the room.
Edgon had just told the maester the entire dream he had seen. The maester was extremely surprised. He had heard rumors about these kinds of dreams of the Karlen dynasty while he was still a student, but he had never thought they could be real.
Now he had to research this dream, look through the archives. As he moved to leave the room with these thoughts in his head, Edgon said, "Stop." Mors, who had completely forgotten the prince in the depth of his thoughts, flinched and immediately turned his head to Edgon.
Mors: My Prince?
Edgon: There's one more thing I saw at the end of my dream. Just before I woke up, I saw three people; one was a woman.
Mors: My Prince, was there anything special about these people?
Edgon: Be patient, I'm telling you. All three of them had the Karlen house banner in their left hand. One had a sword in his right hand, the other ice, and the woman had a pen.
After receiving this important information, Maester Mors excused himself from the prince and left the room.
While Mors was searching the archives, a raven arrived at the highest rampart of Wolfstone Castle. The duty soldier took the parchment from the raven's foot and quickly brought it to the prince's room.
"News from Resava, My Prince."
Edgon took the parchment in his hand. As the soldier left, Edgon slightly sat up.
"Resava? Letters don't usually come to Wolfstone Castle from other countries," he thought.
He slowly opened the parchment. He read the writings, and his eyes widened with the shock of the news he received. In shock, he could only articulate his astonishment in one word.
-WHAT!?
A while ago, Resava, the throne room…
Here is the continuation:
Eward Tharnric entered the Resava throne room with twenty soldiers behind him. The white concrete walls were so bright they made Eward squint. He stopped when he reached the five gold-armored guards in front of Berric's throne. The eyes of everyone in the hall, including the soldiers, administrators, and the Lanish family, were on Eward.
He slowly raised the Tharnric-sealed letter he held in his left hand and handed it to the gold-armored soldier in front of him. The soldier opened the letter, first cleared his throat, and read the letter in a loud voice (see page 11).
After the letter was read, a deep silence fell over the hall. The murmurs of the people ceased; they were all listening intently for Berric's reply.
Berric Lanish slowly rose from his throne and began to descend the steps towards Eward one by one and slowly.
"House Lanish," Berric said, then continued.
Berric: Is no longer the slave of the North!!
The soldiers in the hall quickly attacked the diplomatic group. Twenty men were killed in the chamber. Eward was forced to his knees by two soldiers, breathing in anger and spitting insults all around.
Berric quickly drew the sword his aide handed him from its scabbard; the sharp sound of the sword echoed in the hall.
Two soldiers pressed Eward's chest against the execution block. Eward looked into Berric's face one last time.
Eward: TRAITOR!!
Berric quickly brought his sword down. Eward Tharnric's head was severed from his body in front of the eyes of dozens of people. As torrents of blood splashed onto the hall floor, Berric kicked Eward's severed head.
He made eye contact with Maester Mon as he turned to leave, but continued on his way without saying anything.
Letters announcing the execution were written to all houses in Dorthalen. Eward's severed head was sent to Caldwell Hold by Berric's order.
Chapter 5: "The Two-Edged Sword"
The news of Eward Tharnric's execution spread immediately across the continent of Dorthalen and the surrounding islands, and everyone had already begun preparing their armies for the approaching great war.
There is a saying that has been around for centuries in Dorthalen. This "saying" does not change, even if countries and cultures do. Every nation that has witnessed war in Dorthalen knows this saying.
The balance of power, meaning the alliances and kingdom systems, on the continent of Dorthalen is in a marvelous equilibrium. This marvelous tower of balance is as sensitive as it is marvelous.
The displacement of just one stone causes this magnificent tower to collapse very quickly. Throughout history, this balance has been carefully re-established every time it collapsed, and then collapsed again.
Here is the saying that has been around for centuries in Dorthalen:
"Now, the swords are two-edged."
Meaning that alliances, friendships, or family ties no longer matter; the sword you hold cuts on all sides.
Dragon Palace, one day after the news of the execution.
The Dragon Palace, literally the pearl of the Dorthalen continent, known across the continent as "The Golden Nest," stood tall in the middle of King's Lake.
Behind it stretched the seemingly endless ocean. In front, Ryu, the capital of the Dragon Realm, saluted the palace.
Prince Jars was walking towards the palace, crossing the bridge that connected the city to the palace. As his fire-colored cloak grazed the stone pavement of the bridge, his eyes were on the colossal dragon head statue on top of the palace.
He could never take his eyes off this statue since childhood. Moreover, he was looking at this statue for the first time after a long time, as he had been outside the capital for two years. This was a dragon with its mouth open, looking up at the sky, as if it wanted to breathe fire but couldn't; perhaps Jars was thinking too much.
Amidst these thoughts, the bridge was long gone, and Jars had entered the palace. The palace corridors had not changed much; they were as magnificent and adorned as ever.
When he arrived at the King's Hall, his brother Rase met him. Jars hadn't seen his brother in a long time. He hugged him tightly and patted his back a few times.
Rase: I was expecting you, brother, welcome.
Jars: Welcome, brother, where is father?
Rase turned around and pointed to the golden throne, which was about 10 meters high from the ground.
Jars let go of Rase and took a few steps forward. He raised his head well and saw his father.
King Darys XIII, with his pale eyes, looked down from his throne. Who knows, he might not even have known that the visitor was his own son. He was very old.
He wore the legendary "Blood Coronet" on his head, and a yellow cloak over his body. The cloak, which descended the throne's steps and beyond, was the most important thing showing the king's splendor.
Jars looked at the very high throne for a while. At that moment, 20 people entered. These people, wearing orange clothes, were the king's personal soldiers, called the "Breath."
The job of the twenty people was to hold the king's cloak. They ensured that the cloak did not wrap around the king's feet as he was slowly lowered from the throne steps.
Since it would take hours for the king to descend from the throne, Jars and Rase had already left the hall. The two brothers were heading to the meeting room. There was someone Jars wanted to see, his younger sister Jessie. He expected to see her in the meeting room, but when he entered the large door of the hall, he did not see Jessie. He hadn't seen her since he arrived at the palace; also, whenever he mentioned Jessie, people avoided his gaze and talked about other subjects.
Caldwell Hold, 735
Verais Karlen, the King in the North, was now like an old lord whose hair had turned gray. The wars he had been in for years had caused him to lose many things, but at the same time, they had given him wisdom and patience.
Here he was again, in the place where he thought he had left his youth, ambition, excitement, and his older brother: the battlefield.
As his long, grayish hair flew back in the wind, he looked at the army of the Northern Knights, which shook the ground with every step, from the ramparts of Caldwell Hold. He felt no excitement, no fear; the war he thought belonged to years ago had come to his doorstep again.
Since Thenon had managed to leave the city in time, he was currently on his way to Thargron. Verais was thinking about him, and as he thought about his sons' roles in this war, Nedar approached him.
Chapter 5, Part 2
The Siege of Caldwell Hold
The armies of the Northern Knights were divided into two; Commander Heroc was at the head of the army that had come to besiege Caldwell Hold.
Even talking about or laying siege to Caldwell Hold would make everyone in Dorthalen shudder. For this castle was last besieged by the Dragon Realm, and the great war between the Northern Kingdom and the Dragon Kingdom witnessed the death of a dragon, but this castle still did not fall.
Caldwell Hold has five holy towers. These are, in order:
Sarron Tower, named after the old King in the North and the founder of Caldwell Hold, Sarron Tharnric.
Dragon Tower, the dragon that died in the great war died near this tower.
Galren Tower, or Lord's Tower, takes its name from the lord of Caldwell Hold.
Banner Tower, the flag on this tower waves constantly by a spell.
Direction Tower, the reason why this tower is called the Direction Tower is unknown.
Commander Heroc had positioned his army in front of the city gate between Sarron Tower and Dragon Tower. He was sitting in his tent, making a plan for the siege. His main duty was to prevent Verais Karlen from leaving the city, but Heroc wanted to take the city, execute the king, and end the war immediately, because he knew that the Karlen and Tharnric armies would advance upon them if he lingered here.
So he made a plan…
Meanwhile, inside Caldwell Hold; Nedar, who was responsible for inspecting the towers, had left the Banner Tower and was walking towards the Direction Tower.
The air was cool, the light of the full moon illuminated the night. Nedar had just reached the entrance of the tower when he saw a shadow gliding in the air. He rubbed his eyes and looked again. A winged shadow approached the Direction Tower, stopped for a moment, and flew away.
Nedar couldn't understand what was happening at all. He wanted to go and tell someone, but he couldn't even believe what he saw himself.
As he was thinking about what to do, he was startled by the voice of the soldier behind him.
-My Lord, I finally found you. King Verais and Lord Galren are waiting for you.
-Uh… well… alright, I'm coming right away.
Nedar turned back towards the castle, but his head was filled with questions.
What was that winged creature?
What was the secret of the Direction Tower?
When morning came, the first attack on Caldwell Hold began. Archers rained arrows from the ramparts, and knights tried to get the ladders onto the walls.
The Caldwell Hold archers were not missing. Every arrow that left their bows found a knight, who fell to the ground in pain.
The knights managed to lean the ladders against the walls. The battle lasted until the evening. Both sides suffered considerable losses in the first skirmish, but the knights failed to climb the walls. Thus, the first battle ended.
As a result of this battle, Heroc understood one thing for certain.
Taking Caldwell Hold is impossible!
Although there had been only one battle, it was a battle full of lessons for an experienced and intelligent commander. It was naturally impossible to conquer Caldwell Hold because the city was surrounded by rivers.
There is only one direction you can attack the wall, and the Tharnric archers give no quarter.
That's why Heroc made a plan. He would block the rivers and leave the city without water. They had plenty of supplies, but it was impossible to block so many flowing rivers.
In the area where the army had camped, there was a tent far from all the others. Someone was being held captive inside this pitch-black tent. Armes the Wizard!
Armes the Wizard; a Karosa (dark wizard) who claimed to be seven hundred and ninety-seven years old, had been sentenced to death for using dark magic but was not executed and was instead forcibly made to serve the army.
Only four people had the authority to use Armes the Wizard:
The King in the North
The Lord of Lanish
and the two great commanders of the army.
Since Beric Lanish had rebelled against the Northern Kingdom, the authority of the King in the North was revoked.
They entered the tent where Armes was being held captive. His hands were chained to the ceiling, and almost his entire body was surrounded by chains. The inside smelled as foul as a corpse, so much so that the soldiers could not approach the tent from coughing, and Heroc had entered alone.
Armes' black hair was so long that it exceeded his own height.
Armes: HEROC!! damn you…
Armes the Wizard had damaged his ability to speak when experimenting with dark magic. His voice was no more than a whisper.
Heroc: Although we have the right to use you, I know you don't cast spells unless you want to, so I will convince you.
Armes: I… I will never cast a spell for you… you are the only reason I live this life… Heroc!!
Meanwhile, inside the Hold, Verais, Nedar, and Galren (mistake in the original: 'Nedar and Nedar') were preparing for the next attack in one of Caldwell Hold's cold, dark-blue feeling rooms. Verais mentioned something that was bothering him.
Verais: Galren, you remember someone named Armes, don't you?
Galren: Armes the Wizard…
Nedar: Armes the Wizard? I thought that person's existence was just a legend. Are you saying Armes the Wizard is really real?
Verais: Armes is truly real, but he didn't appear even during the great war.
Galren: Don't tell me…
Verais: Although I have aged, I can feel it. Armes is here. Beric must have sent him here with Heroc to take the Hold.
Galren: If that damned fellow is here, even Caldwell Hold is not safe!
A suspicion filled Nedar's mind; he never believed the Hold could fall while the King in the North was here. The things he had experienced during the siege had completely confused him. Flying creatures, wizards. Nedar thought to himself, "So this is what war is like in Dorthalen…"