*after Rants and Rails*

~

Iffalna hadn't been pleased, and so were the rest of them, even Elwin. But there was no turning back now...he himself had removed the mark of Ablest and passed it on to Iffalna in a grueling 1-hour routine that left him weakened for an entire day before he could walk around.

The weakness he could deal with, but the disappointed looks of the apprentices and Iffalna's drove him to saddle his horse and be the first Slayer to leave the Keep prior from the Assembly.

They were out in the wide and grassy plains, Penril and his stallion, taking their leisurely walk amid the emptiness. Penril was wearing a coarse, olive green woolen cloak with the hood up. A few parcels and belongings were tied to the stallion's saddle.

"Ah, well. Choices have to be made, and I made mine. You can't have your cake and eat it too, now can you?" Penril said merrily to nobody in particular. The horse's hooves were silenced amidst the grass. "I wonder how they'll react in the inn..."

He raised a hand and touched his smooth cheek. It was as if a rock had been lifted off his shoulder. He had never felt so light all of his life.

He detested doing this. BUT CRAPPIT, HE HAD TO! HAD TO! LEAVING WITHOUT TELLING HIM!? LEAVING OLENCIA!? HELL NO, YOU’RE GOING TO PAY, PENRIL! PAY! YOU NEVER DO THAT! HE HAD NEVER BEEN THIS WORRIED SICK IN HIS ENTIRE LIFE! YOU WILL DIE! I SWEAR! DIE!

Hadrian ditched the armor and had switched to leather. He wondered, what would happen when his troops saw the empty armor, helmet over his gloves, on the chair in his office? Not too badly, he hoped. He had trusted Major Ghern. He would set things to rights…

That is, until he heard Olencia was in flames. All his work… gone… He wanted to ride back at first, after seeing the column of smoke, but he couldn’t. The Prince mattered more. Olencia could wait… could wait. He spent his whole life on this…. The Prince MATTERED MORE, and he was glad that Major Ghern did what he would’ve done. Protect the King, always. That was the job of the King’s Guard.

It had been five days of hard riding, but he made it. The Barrier loomed up ahead, and he hadn’t encountered anything… fierce. For that, he was glad. He hadn’t shaved lately too. Stubbly, but that only looked cool, right? Hell yeah. His riding leathers were holding up fine. Patting the horse on the neck, he spotted a figure up ahead.

A slayer? Could be. Hadrian spurred his horse on.

“Where is he?” He asked, reining his horse in sharply as he came to a stop. “Where’s Penril?”

He'd been humming a toneless song out of his breath as his horse took all of its time in the world. He sensed a disgruntled presence coming even before the hazy figure materialized in the horizon. With a gentle tug of his plain reigns, the horse came to a stop, swishing it's tail. Penril decided to wait.

"My my, who could it be...?" he asked himself softly. Twisting slightly on his saddle, he looked back at the towering Barrier ranges. Nope. Nobody coming after him yet.

Now the figure was fast approaching. Penril waited. His horse started to prance and neigh softly. And then...

"Lord Hadrian? What is he doing all the way..."

The man stepped up to him. Didn't recognize him because of the hood. By the gods, Hadrian looked...bedraggled was an understatement. Harrassed...wouldn't come close to it.

“Where is he?” Hadrian demanded sharply. “Where’s Penril?”

"Well..."

Penril pulled down his hood.

"What under the suns are you doing all the way out here, Hadrian?" he said.

"What under the suns are you doing all the way out here, Hadrian?" he said. OH THANK GODS YOU’RE HERE! YES! I’LL CELEBRATE THOSE WHACKY PRAYER THINGYS NOW!

“You tell me that.” Hadrian replied bitterly. “Gone, without telling ME. I’m supposed to be your guardian, for the love of the gods! I would think you to have more SENSE THAN RUNNING OFF ON YOUR OWN! Going off like that…” He gave great sigh. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Cue one-armed hug. Awkward? Yes I know. Live it with it, PENRIL! THIS WAS YOUR PUNISHMENT! AAAARRRR! WITNESS THE FATHERLY LAV!

“God, what happened to you?” He asked, pulling away. “Shorter hair… no tattoo? You look like crap.” He crossed his arms and appraised him. “No tattoo means… you’re not the Ablest? You’re coming back? Oh thank the gods.”

He turned his horse around. “We can’t waste time. Olencia burns.” He said grimly.

“You tell me that.” Hadrian replied bitterly. “Gone, without telling ME. I’m supposed to be your guardian, for the love of the gods! I would think you to have more SENSE THAN RUNNING OFF ON YOUR OWN! Going off like that…” He gave great sigh. “Don’t scare me like that.”

Penril's horse pranced some more, obviously sensing Hadrian's agitation. He had a hand on the reins and calmed the steed at once.

"Well...it was important business." Penril replied reasonably. "Slayer business, that is. I was coming back in the end, there was no need to --!"

His brain froze over when Hadrian had him in a one-armed hug. It was awkward. And they were both on their horses, for heaven's sakes!

"Err. I feel the love. Yes I do, but..."

Thankfully, the man let go of him. Penril patted down his cloak.

“God, what happened to you?” Hadrian inquired. “Shorter hair… no tattoo? You look like crap.” He crossed his arms and appraised him. “No tattoo means… you’re not the Ablest? You’re coming back? Oh thank the gods.”

Penril found no need to answer, except raise a hand and anxiously touch his hair. It also stuck out at odd angles, no matter how hard he combed it down, it was so annoying...

“We can’t waste time. Olencia burns.”

"Burn... WHAT?!" Penril could've shouted. His horse leapt about nervously, and he gave it a distracted pat. "What happened? Did Calandae launch an invasion?!"

There was no time - Hadrian was already running at full speed. Hissing, Penril gave his stallion a quick lash of the reins and a squeeze at the sides. The animal leapt forward at once in a sudden spurt of speed.

"WHAT HAPPENED -?!" He shouted to Hadrian over the rush of wind.

"I left the city." Hadrian replied sheepishly as he slowed down slightly so he could give his horse a break. “Don’t get me wrong, I left it in good hands with Major Ghern, but apparently some people have been planning to stab me in my sleep for some time…”

STAB. DAMMIT. WHOEVER STARTED THE FREAKING OFFENSIVE WOULD DIE FROM THE SLEDGEHAMMER! HE HAD THE RIGHT TO USE IT NOW, DAMMIT! THE RIGHT TO POUND PEOPLE’S FINGERS TO HECK! DIE, YOU LITTLE SCHEMERS, DIE.

….

HE ALWAYS DID HATE BACKSTABBERS. BEECH.

“… in any case, the moment I left, a couple of days later there was this column of smoke rising…” He trailed off. “Fear not, the King is protected. Major Ghern is a good man; he will ensure that the King comes to no harm. We must return as fast as possible.” Hadrian said. “I should think… a crowning is in order… and a ball…”

Wait, we haven’t even resolved the RIOT YET AND YOU’RE PLANNING THE CORONATION ALREADY? YES I AM. And a lot of waiters… some hors d'oeuvres like some… shrimps in some… fluid...

…

OH GOD I AM PLANNING AHEAD.

…

PLANNING AHEAD IS GOOD.

“There!” Hadrian called out, coming to a stop on a ridge. “See the smoke column? That’s Olencia right there.”

They rode their horses in breakneck speed for some hours, before Hadrian slowed down first. Penril automatically reined in beside him.

"I left the city." Hadrian replied sheepishly. “Don’t get me wrong, I left it in good hands with Major Ghern, but apparently some people have been planning to stab me in my sleep for some time…”

Penril didn't know what to answer. He believed the man was capable of taking care of himself and trusting other people, but...to leave the city just to follow him? That was the most stupid...

“… in any case, the moment I left, a couple of days later there was this column of smoke rising…” He trailed off. “Fear not, the King is protected. Major Ghern is a good man; he will ensure that the King comes to no harm. We must return as fast as possible.” Hadrian said. “I should think… a crowning is in order… and a ball…”

Penril could've balked. A crowning? What in the seven hells? He was suddenly afraid for his father despite Hadrian's assurances. They rode again, until Hadrian called for another stop.

“There!” said the man, coming to a stop on a ridge. “See the smoke column? That’s Olencia right there.”

Penril followed his direction and saw the plume of smoke. He gritted his teeth. It seemed that not only his father was in need of his immediate reintroduction to the nobility.

At once, he took over.

"Hadrian. No more delays."

Another lash of the reins and Penril was off, like the wind.

Hold on...wait...I'm coming!

The people. The people were his priority!

"Hadrian. No more delays."

Another lash of the reins and Penril was off, like the wind. Hadrian followed closely. Maybe some mayonnaise to go with the meat…. Nah… ketchup. Ketchup was GOOD, although the red might remind people of blood…

NOPE, KETCHUP WAS A NO-NO AFTER A RIOT, WHICH WAS MAKING HIM TWITCH. GOD! RIOTS…. MUST… BE… STOPPED! AAAAAARRRRR!!!

Hadrian looked up. He felt something… bad… killing intent? Here? IN THE MIDDLE OF FREAKING NOWHERE?

Hired assassin? Could be. For him or for Penril, he was about to find out.

Hadrian gripped a throwing knife.

Arrows came from FREAKING NOWHERE… WAIT… THERE! CLIFFS! DIE YOU BASTARD, DIE! BURN IN HECK, YOU BEECH! BURN IN HECK! Hadrian aimed and threw the knife, which hit the assassin in the neck as an arrow hit Penril’s horse, overthrowing the Prince and… AND… OH JEEBUS, NO!

WAIT! IN THE MIDDLE OF ALL THIS, HEIRARCHY MUST BE OBSERVED! Everything seemed to FREEZE FOR ONE FREAKING SECOND. Lord Penril? NO, IT SOUNDED WRONG. Highness? He wasn’t even CROWNED YET. MAJESTY? NO. HELL NO. Prince? Nah, made him sound like they were married. LORD TANITH! YES! FOUND IT! NOW TO GET OFF THE HORSE AND BLOCK AN ARROW LIKE A GOOD SUICIDAL LOYAL SOLDIER!

“LORD TANITH!” Hadrian yelled, and then leapt, bowling into Penril and getting a few more scars into his collection. Bad arrow in his leg though. Gods. And… his face. He felt blood on his face. Penril’s? A quick check on the Prince yielded no wounds, and Hadrian leaned back. What was the blood on his face then?

“Are you alright, Sire?”

Penril looked up in the air. Something wrong... his magic sizzled within him, ready to be used in case of ---

ARROWS!

Penril hissed as the quivers arced through the air. He could only haphazardly weave a shield made out of air and use them to fling the arrows off him and Hadrian, but then the next thing he knew was a deafening neighing from his horse - he was up the air - he was flying -!

"OOF!"

He blinked strands of hair out of his eyes. His horse was dead. More arrows!

Curses, did Ghayth or Calandae or Marlas know of him already!?

He had to do something! He made to scramble up, to teach these assassins a lesson - but he was knocked painfully back down when Hadrian came crashing above him.

“LORD TANITH!”

"I'm fin---!"

“Are you alright, Sire?”

Hadrian was bleeding profusely over his right eye. Penril pushed him off.

"Stay down, Hadrian!"

His sides hurt. He quickly used his own energy and willed the wind to expose his attackers - a huge gust went for the cliff and soon, shouts echoed in the cool air. People were soon floating, flailing wildly. There were four of them.

Four!

FOUR!

Not good. Penril raised his right hand and a bolt of lightning electrocuted the four hired killers. Their screams echoed in the air. Penril relinquished his control over the wind and they fell painfully to their deaths.

"Curses," he hissed. He turned to Hadrian. "Don't move. This will scar, but..." He placed his hand over the man's eye, the blood sticking to his palm and fingers. His hand glowed.

"Who do you think did this? Ghayth? Calandae? I've been in the Keep most of my life, and no bandits live in these areas. They are awfully brave to come all the way here..."

"Stay down, Hadrian!"

STAY DOWN!? YOU SHOULD BE STAYING DOWN! Hadrian made to stand. HELL NO HE WAS GOING TO STAY HERE! HELL NO! THE WORLD WOULD FREEZE OVER BEFORE HE WOULD ‘STAY DOWN’! STAY DOWN INDEED!

GOD THE PAIN! THE PAIN! With a hiss, Hadrian looked down at his leg. Arrow. RIGHT THERE, DAMMIT! RIGHT THERE!

…

Okay, so just for once he’ll ‘stay down’.

…

BUT HE DIDN’T LIKE IT, YOU HEAR!?

People were soon floating, flailing wildly. There were four of them.

Four!

…

That would mean five. He knifed the other one….

Five assassins.

Penril raised his right hand and a bolt of lightning electrocuted the four hired killers. Their screams echoed in the air. Penril relinquished his control over the wind and they fell painfully to their deaths.

…

Magic…. Hadrian twitched. Gods.

"Curses," he hissed. He turned to Hadrian. "Don't move. This will scar, but..." He placed his hand over the man's eye, the blood sticking to his palm and fingers. His hand glowed. Ooh… pretty lights…

"Who do you think did this? Ghayth? Calandae? I've been in the Keep most of my life, and no bandits live in these areas. They are awfully brave to come all the way here..."

“I’d put my money on…” Hadrian grasped the arrow and readied himself for the task. Gods. “GAYTH!” He added his frustration and pain into the roar as he tore the arrow from his leg. God. Oh god, it hurt. OH JEEBUS IT HURT HE WANTED TO MAIM SOMETHING!

“I’d put my money on…” Hadrian grasped the arrow and readied himself for the task. “GAYTH!”

He screamed as he pulled the arrow out of his leg. Penril had forgotten about that. He immediately removed his cloak, shuddering lightly against the cold. He placed his bloodied hand over the arrow wound and healed it. He suddenly felt a bit light-headed. Magic was bad if you had no immediate resources nearby - you had to rely on your own life force.

He tore his cloak and wrapped Hadrian's leg securely.

"For the cold. I might have healed it, but it will hurt from the inside for a few more days. A week, maximum."

He offered his hand and helped the man stand up. He looked over his shoulder toward his dead horse. It had been a good animal...

"Well..." He turned to the soldier. "Can I ride with you, then?"

HURTING. GOD. HE WAS ON A WARPATH! HE WANTED TO BASH SOMETHING. WITH A SLEDGEHAMMER, IF POSSIBLE. HURT. GOD! He tried the limb out. OH JEEBUS IT HURT! IT HURT SO BADLY HE NEEDED TO KILL SOMETHING. KILL! HE ALSO WANTED TO CURSE, BUT PENRIL WAS HERE, SO NO.

Penril immediately removed his cloak, shuddering. WAS HE COLD? OH GOD, HE HAD FAILED. MUST… GIVE… CLOAK!

He tore his cloak and wrapped Hadrian's leg securely.

"For the cold. I might have healed it, but it will hurt from the inside for a few more days. A week, maximum."

…

Didn’t feel so bad now.

He offered his hand and helped the man stand up.

"Well..." He turned to the soldier. "Can I ride with you, then?"

“Of course, Sire.” Hadrian said automatically. Must… remember… etiquette… He shrugged Penril’s arm off; HE WAS A PROUD MILITARY MAN, PROUD OF BEING A SUICIDAL LOYAL SOLDIER, and limped over to his horse. Thanks to the training they were in, horses like his never shied. He took out a spare cloak and offered it to Penril.

“Wouldn’t do for you to get sick, Sire.” He said, and them mounted his horse and offered a hand.

“Of course, Sire.”

But then the man gave him a spare cloak. Penril gratefully put it over his shoulders. Hadrian climbed onto his steed first, offering a hand to help Penril up behind him.

Soon they were back on track, returning to Olencia in the greatest possible speed.

"Hadrian," Penril called. "Hadrian, don't...don't call me with the titles, please! Even when I'm crowned and all that - I - I don't like it! Just call me Penril!"

The trees and the endless expanse of grass sped up behind them, and all the while the plume of smoke grew...

Soon they were back on track, returning to Olencia in the greatest possible speed. WITH EACH AND EVERY JOLT THE HORSE RAN ON, HADRIAN’S LEG HURT. AND WITH EACH HURTING, HE WANTED TO MAIM SOMETHING. NAO.

"Hadrian," Penril called. Hadrian leaned back to hear him. "Hadrian, don't...don't call me with the titles, please! Even when I'm crowned and all that - I - I don't like it! Just call me Penril!"

The trees and the endless expanse of grass sped up behind them, and all the while the plume of smoke grew... WAIT. DON’T CALL YOU WITH THE TITLES!? HE NEARLY STOPPED THE HORSE! EVEN THEN, THE HORSE WAS JERKED BACK A LITTLE.

…

Hand twitched. Really.

“Excuse me, Sire!? I’m sorry, I didn’t think I heard right… NOT CALL YOU WITH A TITLE?” He spazzed. “NOT TO CALL YOU? Sire, I think that’s impossible! No way in hell, Sire, no way in hell! Fear not, even your father succumbed to it one way or another! We’ll make a blueblood out of you yet!”

The horse continued on.

“Excuse me, Sire!? I’m sorry, I didn’t think I heard right… NOT CALL YOU WITH A TITLE?” Hadrian yelled back. “NOT TO CALL YOU? Sire, I think that’s impossible! No way in hell, Sire, no way in hell! Fear not, even your father succumbed to it one way or another! We’ll make a blueblood out of you yet!”

Oh, enough.

Enough, I tell you.

ENOUGH.

First, storming the Pony in the middle of the night and THEN bodily dragging him to the palace.

Now this, LEAVING THE PEOPLE AND HIS DUTIES, FOLLOWING HIM ALL THE WAY OUT HERE!

And now Olencia burns!

Enough, it was in Penril's nerves already and ---

"ENOUGH! YOU WILL NOT CALL ME WITH RIDICULOUS TITLES BECAUSE I SAY IT!" Penril yelled back. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!?"

"ENOUGH! YOU WILL NOT CALL ME WITH RIDICULOUS TITLES BECAUSE I SAY IT!" Penril yelled back. "DO YOU UNDERSTAND THAT!?"

That did it. THE HORSE STOPPED. HAPPY!? Hadrian jerked on the reins again and the horse stopped as soon as it could. Silence.

Oh look, a tumbleweed.

…

Hadrian took a breath. “WE’LL MAKE A KING OUT OF YOU YET!” He said proudly and twisted in his seat to ruffle Penril’s now short hair. If he could cry tears of joy, HE WOULD DO IT NOW, AND GLADLY! “You make your family proud, sir, PROUD!” PRACTICALLY RADIATING PRIDE, Hadrian flicked the reins and the horse set off at an easy canter. It had to rest, you know. Rest.

Oh yes.

...

Don't kill me D:

"I'll try, Sire..." Oh wait. He coughed. "I'll try."

It was as if the world had come to a stop.

Another breeze blew, and despite of the cloak, Penril shivered.

Tumbleweed.

Oh gods, just...

“WE’LL MAKE A KING OUT OF YOU YET!”

What?

Penril winced as Hadrian ruffled his hair. "Look, I..."

“You make your family proud, sir, PROUD!”

He didn't bother replying with that.

"I'll try, Sire...I'll try."

"Move, Hadrian." Penril said instead. "Olencia burns as we speak."