Chaper 12 - Black Snow

“Remember Andris; do not forget your promise you made to your Maester and to me,” Hadrian spoke
“You need not respect them boy, but it would be wise to fear them,” Tobias urged from atop his magnificent golden horse as he led an army of three thousand men to the gates of the eastern capital.“Do you fear them?” Andris asked somewhat reluctantly.
“Mateusz is as unpredictable as he is volatile. You must learn the importance of showing restraint and knowing when you are vulnerable. We cannot risk tempers flaring when we have come under the guise of peace.”Andris grunted as he fixed his belt that holsted his sword.
“Do you agree Andris?” The Prince said again firmly. “I cannot allow you to enter the city if I cannot trust you to do as I say. Our lives depend on it.” 
“I’ll behave.” Andris said as he looked upon the curtain wall of Athol’s first if many intimidating layers of defenses that surrounded the perimeter loomed over them. The walls were manned with archers both eyeing the outskirts but also into the settlement itself. An unnerving sight to any would be a visitor and a reminder for those bound within. 
“It is good you took your army with you.” Andris said.
“They are a show of force, nothing more. Once that gate is closed behind us we are alone in the foxes den. We will only get out of this if Mateusz wills it. Remember that.”
The young boy gulbed at that realizaion and his eyes widened in amazement as the massive doors ahead creaked open to reveal the awe-inspiring vast view of the grand plaza and it’s polished marble floor that gleamed in the soft sunlight. Hesitantly he took his first few steps into the city of his enemy.
“A sight for sore eyes father? Hadrian questioned. “Is it as you remember?”
“A lot has changed,” The King acknowledged.
As they walked through the plaza they where directed by several guairds on where to proceed. Andris could feel and hear the gaze and whispers of the residents of the city and couldnt help but feel that many of the strange looks where directed as much at him as was to the foreign royalty. What they spoke off he could only speculate and what they thought, he could only imagine. Still their small party progressed as instructed. They passed all types of stalls as they traversed through the streets as only the the faint whispers could be heard from the vendors.
Athol was amongst the oldest settlements in Lucere and it showed as it was one that had gone under many redevelopments through the years and this was reflected in the atypical layout. The path ahead ran straight onwards to the Castle that overlooked the city, but on each side of the main road lay entrances to tight alleyways and narrow side streets that snaked throughout the remnants of a much older town, evidence of humble beginnings and of a settlement that had outgrown itself many times.
Tobias stopped at the end of one of the steets and looking at one of the guards ushered his party onwards. “Keep going. I’ll catch up.”
The guard nodded in agreement and Andris watched as Tobias disappeared down one of the narrow paths. 
“Wheres he going?” Andris asked. 
“Home.” The Prince replied. 
Continuing down a few snaking cobbled paths. Tobias eyes fixed upon the crumbling remains of an old derelict building. An abandoned orphanage, where once a sanctuary for lost souls like himself now stood as a mere shell of its former self. Its walls were marred with cracks, its roof sagged under the weight of time, and nature had reclaimed what was once a place of hope to where he had spent his formative years. The broken windows revealed a glimpse of a forgotten past. A past Tobias would never forget as memories flooded back, washing over him like a bittersweet tide. His heart weighed heavy with nostalgia, and a sense of profound loss settled upon his shoulders beaconing him forward as a mixture of gratitude, sadness, and a tinge of regret welled up within him. 
He passed through the building that had obviously been repurposed over the years to a courtyard out the back and a smile came to his face at the sight of a strong oak tree that adorned the overgrown garden. A living monument to his journey in a town that had long forgotten his name and how it had grown and thrived. As he closed his eyes, allowing his mind to drift back to that distant day when he was a young man with dreams in his heart and an unquenchable urge to bring peace to this land of chaos. 
“Who are you?” A strange voice came from behind interrupting the King from his trance. 
“I’m just passing through,” Tobias replied with a smile. “I apologise if I am trespassing. This place has a speical place in my heart.” 
“Are you the man everyones talking about?” The figure said getting closer. Her disfigured body now apparent as she emerged from the shadows. 
“I am.” He replied.
“Is it true? Can you heal people?”
Tobias sighed. “The healing artes that I poesse are a potent force for sure, but there are some afflictions that lie beyond it’s power. The damage to your body is too great for my magic to truely heal."
“So there are limits to your power. Typical.”
“There must be limits to power.” Tobias asserted.”
“What about blood magic?” She quizzed.
“I do not know much about the black artes but with I do know, I would warn you from pursuing a solution within it.” 
“Why not?” 
“Even if possible, there can be nothing gained without sacrifice thus is the nature of such unethical prowess.”
“What do you know of sacrifice? You who cannot feel pain.”
“Who told you that? I have lived a dozen lifetimes and have experienced every emotion imaginable many times over. There is nothing in this life that I have not seen.”
“What about death?”
“This building was my home for nearly one hundred years. During that time, more people died within these walls than in any single battle in the history of this realm and as a custodian of time I can attest to that.”
The girl was speechless.
“There is not a soul alive today except for the great dragons of Falaj that has not yet perished during my lifetime. I can assure you I have seen death.”
"Whats so important about this tree. Did you plant it?”
“I did.”
“Why?”
“Why not? Tobias said. “Isn’t it beautiful.”
“It’s a tree. There are millions of them.”
“Yes, but there is another reason. The woman that raised me, though not my mother. This is where she rests.”
Tobias got on his knee and reached into his pocket and pulled several gold coins, seven to be exact filled his hand and this number humored the King who for a moment had a grin. With his other arm he cupped a piece of soil away and placed the coins as if they where seeds in the hole just before the tree.
“What are you doing?” The girl said now peering over his shoulder.
Tobias hesitated for a second in thought and with a change of heart one by one removed the coins from the earth and turned to face the cripple. Extending his arm he opened his grip as coins glistened in the sun above amonst the dirt in his hand. “Take them. It will not ease your pain, but maybe it can…”
“I do not want your pity” The girl interuppted as she slapped at the Kings hand.
Their contact was for a fleeting moment as their palms touched, but the time that passed seemed to have stretched much longer. A sense of exhaustion and confusion washed over him as he fell to his knees. As he looked up, the girl was no longer crippled nor was she even human but something else. That was the last thing he remembered as he blacked out.
--- 
The Prince and Andris continued onwards towards the castle where they where they where expected to meet the King however they would first have to passthrough the Crucible. Hadrian, having only ever heard of how the structure intertwined with th castle was in awe at how union between the two buildings complemented each other serving as a symbol of the kingdom's martial prowess and the legacy of its champions.
Within the Crucible itself, the atmosphere was charged with anticipation. A mixture of sand and soil covered the arena floor, etched with the marks of countless battles. Emblazoned on the walls surrounding the arena where the names and statues of such heroes that had proven themselves within its hallowed grounds. Echoes of past battles that seemed to whisper through the air, calling to warriors to leave their mark on the annals of history. As the banners flutterd in the gentle breeze, Andris could only watch on as the colors and strength of Athol taunted him.
“Who are they,” Andris said pointing at the statues that adorned the confines of the walls.
“Champions who have survived the trials of the Crucible. They stand as a testament to the indomitable spirit of Athol's greatest warriors. They serve as both a source of inspiration for those who seek to prove themselves worthy and to discourage those who lack the valour to become one.” 
Andris against all he stood for could not help himself as he began to take in the grand arena. 
“Have a look about. We shall await my father here before continuing to the keep.”
Andris spent several minutes taking in the rich history of the coliseum looking at the grand golden statues but couldnt help but feel intimidated as they towered over him frozen in time, immortalizing their moments of glory each more impressive as the last until one statue caught his attention as the black haired snow elf ran his fingers over the letters of the name of the warrior.
“Athol,” he uttered. “There was a warrior named Athol?”
“Yes,” the Prince answered. “He would be your ancestor of yours... if such a thing mattered to you.”
“It doesn’t,” Andris quickly dispelled. 
“Shame...” Hadrian said “All things considering he was apparently a great King. My father didnt see eye to eye with him on all matters but he had integrity, and for a King, that goes a long way in being a just ruler... and boy what a warrior he was said to have been in his day. 
“Who is that Andris questioned noticing a man standing on the balcony above.
“That is the heir to Athol, Saturosz,” the Prince replied. “With a temper like his fathers. Be wary around him. From the stories I have been told, he is said to be a warrior with hugh expectation.”
The Prince of Athol noticing he was the product of discussion began to descend the stairs and despite how stoeic Hadrian may have looked, He was shaken to the core at how the encounter would play out.
“Where is Tobias?” Saturosz uttered with his deep voice.
“He will be here shortly.”
“Figures. A man with limitless time wastes that of others. What is this funny looking creature you bring before me?”
“He is merely my squire.”
“You keep strange company,” Saturosz said as he laughed in the face of the half-elf somewhat expecting the outsider to turn away But Andris remained unyielding, his gaze meeting Saturosz's without wavering. “At least it’s not a Snow-Elf,” the Prince said with a deep snort as he spat at the the ravenhaired boys feet. In that moment Andris could have unleashed his unspent anger but instead bit his tongue.
Andris could not take his eyes of the Atholian Prince. No older than himself, the anticipation and curiosity had long peaked as he finally looked on someone that had shared the same blood whether he liked it or not. And although the Prince had not picked up on it… the resemblance was there. They both shared a large brutish head and black hair tho the Prince had his cut short. Whilst the shared a common defined jaw and perhaps maybe the nose, it was their ears and their temperament that seperated them apart Andris thought. But it was something else that Andris saw in his brothers gaze that roused him and that was an unspoken challenge.
“Where is your statue?”
“What?”
“Prince Hadrian was telling me of how great a warrior you are. I was wondering where you placed amongst this great hall. After all, as a prince of Athol, one would think your name should be among these hallowed warriors.”
“I was merely telling him the history of the crucible how those become immortalized in stone,” The Prince interjected.
Saturosz's facade wavered for a moment and a flash of anger flickered across his features. But he quickly regained his composure, determined not to let thus outsider see his vulnerability.
“The Heir of the throne need not concern himself with such trivial games.”