HT CHAPTER 4

Father Arin stood from his throne and approached Tempest. “Follow me,” he gestured. The man led him to a small office room located to the right of the throne, the walls lined with bookshelves and a large wooden desk positioned in the middle of the room. The wise, old figure took his time approaching his desk and sat down. Father Arin then lifted his head and met eyes with Tempest.

“Tempest Amar, son of Hat’os Amar, Ambassador of Cur.” Father Arin greeted him in his own native language.

“I was not aware you spoke my tongue, Father.” Tempest hmm’ed in respect. “I must admit that I am pleasantly surprised.” One thing Tempest did not understand though, was why he would not speak Sulvikian before in front of everyone else.

“As you should be.”  Father Arin nodded. “It is wise not to let even your closest comrades become aware of your strengths. Remain unpredictable.”  Father Arin answered Tempest’s un-verbalized question. “I wished to speak to you alone because I have been yearning to discuss Aneurin’s situation with you face to face.”  Tempest nodded, and the man continued. “I wish to tell you Aneurin and Farah’s story, and to better explain to you your coming here.”  Tempest nodded and waited for the man to continue on his own terms.

“As you have found out back in your desert home, almost twenty years ago my teams found Aneurin and Farah, along with Farah’s brother, as young children being held captive in Ray’as territory.

“Farah and her brother were sold into Ray’as slavery by their own mother, who was young and did not want to be responsible for raising children anymore. They do not remember her, but they remember the day they were brought to the Ray’as’ custody very clearly. Aneurin, however, we were unsure of until recently. Until your team discovered those Ray’as notebooks.

At the time of their rescue, we did not know what the Ray’as were planning. Upon your discovery of the notebooks, we know now that they were trying to create the ‘perfect weapon of war’. In trying to do so, they were experimenting on human children. We did not know it then, but Ray’as technology is very advanced. They have technology that allows them to give a person the qualities and natural instincts of many wild animals. They call these qualities ‘genes,’ and by fusing these genes with Aneurin’s human genes they were hoping to create a weapon of mass destruction. Eventually, Aneurin will transform into a beast-like creature and will destroy many civilizations, thousands of lives. He could by himself wipe out half of Euphasia.

“They experimented on Aneurin while he was still in his mother’s womb. We believe that his mother died very shortly after Aneurin’s rescuing. And it has been made obvious to us that neither Farah, her brother, or Aneurin are aware that Aneurin was experimented on.

“We now know that Aneurin is not the only weapon. There are many, and each has their own trigger. Aneurin’s trigger is Farah. It seems it was a horrible mistake to keep them together after their rescue.”

Father Arin paused to take a breath, and to shake his head in disappointment at his League’s own decisions.

“Why did you not separate them when we found out that Aneurin would be triggered by Farah?” Tempest asked, this particular issue having bothered him for a while.

“We were afraid that if we did, that Aneurin would be triggered by the anger of being separated from her. And this is where you come in, Tempest Amar of the desert.”

“You want me to stay with them and observe them, and try to find out if there is anything that can be done to prevent Aneurin’s transformation.” Tempest Amar rolled his eyes at  the obviousness of it all. “I thought we had already established this.”

“I just want to remind you of your role in all this. They think that it’s a foreign exchange program... Just let them believe that.”

“It doesn’t matter to me what they believe, really.” Tempest shrugged. Father Arin remained silent, Tempest’s response being good enough. “Do not worry, your trust is well placed. If I am discovered, I have an entire city back home to lose and a family name at stake.”

With that, the desert nobleman sauntered out of the room, letting the large wooden doors shut themselves behind him.

Another Update EDIT

EDIT
I don't know what's going on with words hyper linking and my formatting getting crazy in Chapter 3. I'm going to figure it out, but tomorrow. It's almost 2am where I am and I have to be up at 9.

The hyperlinking was just me. It turned out to be a browser issue. I had a program called BrowserSmart installed on my computer that I never remember installing. But, a quick uninstall later and the issue is resolved. 

I'll be fixing the post's format soon. Be on the lookout for Chapter 4 of Historical Tervik, which should be uploaded sometime tonight!

Thank you!
-Pilot

HISTORICAL TERVIK: Chapter 3

When wooden doors closed behind them, Farah and Aneurin met eyes. They stared for a brief moment in silence, until Rune broke the silent code.

“Well, I’m heading off. I don’t care what they’re talking about, or how they’re talking. I’m done for the day.” With that, the young assassin turned and dived into the thick, bustling crowds of the Market across the bridge. Farah and Aneurin were now left alone. They breathed.

“You remember what time it is, right?” Farah smiled, suddenly revitalized. “It’s time to go see Gideon. He’s probably really worried about us, actually. We should hurry.”

“Mhm.” Aneurin nodded his head in compliance. Farah picked up her pace, and Aneurin tailed safely behind. They weaved their way through the Market and back to the Lower City District, and took a road that would lead them directly to an inn known as Phoenix's Wing. This was one of many inns owned by the Assassin League, where members of the League lived and ate. Head chef of this particular inn was a Gideon Adair, none other than Farah’s older brother by blood.

Phoenix’s Wing was located on a main road, and it happened to be the very first inn that came into view after entering through the city’s western gates. For this reason, it was rather popular. As Aneurin and Farah approached the building, they had to force their way past a thick crowd of people entering and exiting the building.

“Oh! Welcome to the Phoenix’s Wing!” They entered, and were approached by a spunky blonde haired woman with bright green eyes. She met their eyes, recognizing immediately who they were. She prompted them to follow her and sat them down at a table in the corner of the lobby. “I’ll tell Gideon that you’re here. He’ll be out quickly, I can promise you that.” Farah thanked the woman, whom she had seen before but did not know her name. She seemed a friendly personality however, and one Gideon was certainly glad to have around. She was no innkeeper, but instead probably either a waitress or a new hire of Gideon’s himself. Farah watched as the woman disappeared through flapping wooden doors that led to the kitchen.

Nearly as soon as the blonde haired woman had disappeared out of sight, a tall dark-haired figure emerged. He wore the jacket of a chef of high ranking, yet wore no hat. This man was no doubt Farah’s brother; the color of his dark brown hair was nearly identical to that of Farah’s. Their forest green eyes were exactly the same.

“Farah!” Gideon flung a towel over his shoulder. “Where have you been?”

“Tempest’s boat came in late. I’m sorry.” Farah stood to meet her brother, and they embraced each other with a hug. “But we’re here now.”

“I see that. Aneurin.” Gideon extended his arm to the male sitting down. The two shook hands. “I feel like it’s been a while. We have a lot to talk about.” Gideon sat down in a chair in between the two, and Farah took her seat again.

“So what’s Tempest like?” GIdeon started conversation. He folded his hands on the table, eager to listen.

“He’s... Well, he’s a nobleman. Tempest is exactly what you’d expect.” Farah shrugged her shoulders. “He was supposed to dock just after sunrise, but he made us wait ‘till noon. That alone shows his character.”

“Damn.” Gideon shook his head. “I didn’t expect much more, though. He certainly was a strange choice for this.... study abroad program.”

“You say it almost like you doubt Father Arin’s decision.” Aneurin chimed in, intriqued by Gideon's passive comment.

“Well, I do.” Gideon shrugged, and Farah gasped.

“How though? Father Arin is a very respectable man, and he raised us. You would so easily doubt his decision?”

“Calm down Farah.” Gideon chuckled. “I didn’t mean it that way. Of course I don’t doubt his decision. I would never so easily deny the man that raised us. But what I mean to say is....” Gideon’s voice dropped to a whisper. “I don’t think this is really a study abroad program.” Aneurin and Farah were quiet for a moment.

“...What do you mean?” Farah matched Gideon’s vocal volume.

“I mean exactly what I said.” Gideon met his sister’s eyes. “What kind of study abroad program rips a nobleman apart from his home country to study with a guild of killers in a different land? Couldn’t that potentially spark a war between us and Sulvik? And with war on the horizon between humanity and the Ray’as, the last thing we need is war between the human race on top of that. We’d lose both wars.” Gideon shook his head gravely. “I think there’s something Father Arin isn’t telling us.”

“Gideon...” Farah’s mouth was left open. How could her brother say that? Aneurin stared at the man wide eyed, probably thinking something along the same lines. Silence fell upon the group, until Gideon decided a change of subject was necessary.

“Hey. do you remember mom’s recipe for beef stew? The one I could never get quite right?” Gideon’s eyes lit up, and both Farah and Aneurin perked up immediately.

“Yeah, what about it?” Aneurin was the first to respond.

“I think- no, I know I finally got it right. I figured out what it was missing.” GIdeon grinned. “Lucky for you two I have a pot going and it should be ready right about now. Lyra!” GIdeon waved his arm, and the spunky blonde haired woman whom Farah and Aneurin had met at the door emerged from the kitchen and bounced over to their table.

“What’s up?” Lyra stood besides Gideon’s chair and folded her hands.

“Go get us each a bowl of the new beef stew I’ve been cooking, please.”

“Sure thing!” Lyra waved and bounced back to the kitchen. A few minutes later, she was back out carrying three bowls. She placed one in front of each of the three seated at the table, and made her way back to the counter where she continued to wait on guests coming and going. Gideon wafed the steam, sniffing the stew passionately.

“Ahh. I think you guys are going to like this.” Gideon took his first spoonful.

Farah and Aneurin each took their first bites at the same time. As soon as the substance touched their tongues their faces lit up with excitement.

“Gideon, it’s perfect!” Farah exclaimed.

“She isn’t kidding.” Aneurin was wide eyed with excitement. “How did you figure it out?”

Gideon placed a finger on his lips. “Spoilers.” He smiled. “But eat up. And if you would like more, feel free to ask. It’s on me.” Farah and Aneurin thanked him and continued their stew. The group was silent for a while, undoubtedly each reminiscing about their past with the woman they all called Mother.  

“It brings back such great memories.” Farah broke a comfortable silence as she finally finished her stew. “Gideon, you loved cooking with mom.”

“She was my greatest teacher, after all.” Gideon beamed with pride. “Mom’s the reason I became Head Chef of this place, after all. You guys have no idea how much I hated the fighting and killing.” Gideon shivered, remembering the days when he himself was on a team with Farah and Aneurin. They all missed those days fondly but Gideon had grown somewhat empty after so many battles, despite how skilled he was with a blade.

“You never really explained why that is.” Farah pushed her empty bowl to the side of the table so Lyra would know to take it away. On Gideon’s other side, Aneurin nodded in agreement.

“Well, I guess it was obvious.” Gideon blinked in slight confusion. “Killing just isn’t for me. Being the one to rip life away from another person’s body, whether they be Orc, human, Elvenkin, or anything else... It just doesn’t sit right with me." Gideon met his sister's eyes. "I'm a big believer in life, Farah. With war just over the horizon, it's all I have left to believe in." With this, Farah fell gravely silent, taking her brother's words into consideration. After a moment left to her own thoughts, Farah spoke up once more. This time, choosing her words carefully.

"We never really had much to believe in, did we?" Farah looked from Gideon to Aneurin. "When I originally heard the news that we would be getting a new team member, I will admit I was angry." Farah looked desperately into her older brother's eyes. "You don't understand how much I miss you being on the team with us. When it was just the three of us. We had so much fun, and we worked so well together. And we didn't have to worry about feeling lonely because we had each other. We have always been our own family. But at first, I was somewhat afraid that Tempest coming here meant the end of our days together. I know we can't always be together like we were when we were children. Playing tag, and trying to play hide and seek in that cement prison. But you being there with us all the time made me feel certain. You were always a guiding light for the both of us. Even if stubborn Aneurin here doesn't want to admit it."

"Farah..." Aneurin stared at her, wide-eyed, blown back by the speech she had just made. He could not deny a word of what she had said.

"I never really went anywhere." Gideon shifted in his seat. "Just because I'm not on the team doesn't mean I'm not here for you. That's the thing about this damned League, Euphasian Trading Co., or whatever the hell they want to call it - this is our life. It has been, since they found us when we were young. We're trapped here, forever. Even if we wanted to leave, we can't. Because we have no more family and nowhere else to go."

Farah was too dumbfounded by Gideon's words. She hated that he said such awful things about the Assassin's League, but she did not wish to press the issue any farther. It was a common thing for him to complain about the Assasin's League and about the state of the world. To debate with him about it was a lost cause, for it angered both Farah and Aneurin too deeply. That is why they all agreed to disagree, for Gideon was still Farah's brother and they all loved each other very much.

"Lyra, get us more stew please!" Gideon called to her, breaking the awful silence that had plagued them. The blonde bopped over, took their empty bowls, and was soon back with more. When she was out of earshot, Gideon spoke again.

"What do you think of my new trainee?" Gideon's mood changed, and he was smiling again.

"She's exhausting." Aneurin, straight to the point, took a spoonful of stew.

"But she seems alright to me. I can tell she's very energetic." Farah made an exception to Aneurin's brash statement.

"Father Arin figured I could use some help around the kitchen so he sent her to me. She came from a pretty ordinary background. The daughter of a chef from another city, she's been around a lot. And the kitchen really needs the energy she brings. Sometimes I'm just not enough." Gideon shrugged, smiling.

"Well, I'm happy for you, Gideon." Farah managed a smile.

The group slipped into idle conversation, until Farah and Aneurin had to cut the meeting short to stock up on supplies and then retire to their bedrooms in an inn across town much closer to the Market. Gideon, already having heard about their new mission to Carius from Father Arin himself, bid them farewell without trying to hold them back.

HISTORICAL TERVIK: Chapter 2

"Armastus; The largest city in Euphasia." Faran rose her head in pride. Aneurin followed suit as he heard Farah's voice break through the silence that had grown between all four group members. Armastus was not a capital; since Euphasia had no single government, there was no city to be called 'capital'. But it was treated as such, as it was the largest city with the greatest reputation and strongest military.

The ruler of Armastus was a man by the name of Father Arin. He was old, wise, and known to be fair in judgement. Father Arin boasted an egalitarian society and a strict court system. Not only was Father Arin the ruler of Armastus, he was also the head of the Assassin’s League. In Euphasia, however, the League was known more simply as Euphasia Trading Co., which was mostly a diversion- but a good one, as Father Arin’s position allowed him to keep up appearances pretty easily.

They had barely made it  through the city's western gates, and already Tempest could see the large crowds of people bustling on the streets. Surely there were many different types of people; people making their daily runs, workers, and travelers passing through. Tempest observed the way the denizens of Armastus dressed, and observed their behavior.

Farah and Rune watched Tempest's curiosity carefully. Rune already understood exactly what Tempest was feeling, but Farah could only imagine what thoughts occupied Tempest's mind. There was no "typical dress" of the great grassland Farah and Aneurin called Euphasia- and home. People wore styles that were popular in their time, and it had been that way since the days of old. In style at the time were scarves to be worn in many fashions and, particularly for women, hand bags with which to carry belongings on a person's body for short travel. Handbags were a recent invention and therefore expensive, which meant handbags were only worn by the wealthier. In other words, they were luxuries. Being who they were, neither Farah nor Aneurin were able to conform to this type of fashion. As short-sleeved dresses hemmed just below the knee were popular for women, straight-cut pants and long-sleeved shirts or sweaters were popular for men.

"It is a strange new world." Tempest passively acknowledged Rune. "Tell me, is weather here really so fair and society so backwards that these people are able to dress with such little clothing?"

"Society isn't backwards here," Rune snapped at Tempest, "it's just different than what you're used to. It's acceptable in Euphasia for these people to dress this way. They call it 'style.' You better get used to it now."

"...Interesting." Tempest's voice trailed off as he continued to stare. Rune huffed, as this was not the reaction he was hoping for nor expecting.

Armastus was a large city with the tallest buildings of the kingdom, as it was only in Armastus where buildings were allowed to be build that high. Cities of the mountains in the far West spread rumors that Armastus touched the clouds, giving Armastus its nickname of City of the Sky. Now, Tempest could see for himself why.

Farah and Aneurin led the group through the winding streets of the city. They were eager to get home, but avoided main streets because of Tempest’s flashy clothing for fear of drawing too much attention to themselves. The city was split into two districts; a lower and upper district that mirrored economic class. The gates the group had entered had taken them directly into the Lower City District. Their destination was a large located in the city’s Upper District known as Father’s Keep, which housed Father Arin himself. As they entered the Upper City District, the crowd lessened but they could not drop their guards just yet.

The group made their way through the city’s central plaza, also known as The Market. People set up shop stalls here, blacksmiths selling their wares, grocers selling their foodstuffs, and many more. As The Market was busy, Aneurin drew his hood farther down his forehead. Farah did not care much, as so far they had not risen an alarm. Tempest earned himself quite a lot of attention, and he threw his cloak behind him, flashing his clothes and brightly colored jewelry.

“Tempest, what are you doing?” Aneurin snapped at the desertman, despite knowing he could not understand. “Rune, tell him he needs to stop.” Beside him, Farah nodded her head in agreement.

“Wrap your cloak around yourself. You’re drawing too much attention.”  Rune looked up at the nobleman.

“And why should I? It is no question that they would be gawking in amazement at my fine jewelry and envying me.” Tempest waved off Rune’s criticism. “They have no reason to suspect what business we have in this place. So why worry? If anything my fine jewelry proves that I belong here with the richer.”

Rune stared at Tempest in disgusted amazement. Sadly, the desertman had made a good point. Knowing they were not going to succeed in forcing Tempest to stop, they gave up and let him continue on with his flaunting. They crossed a bridge in The Market that led them straight to the door of Father’s Keep.
Farah and Aneurin both met eyes with the guards guarding the doors. They nodded to one another before the group passed through the door. Tempest had caught this gesture, and was confused.

“How has the guards allowed them in so easily?”  Tempest questioned Rune without looking at him. “Shouldn’t they have questioned their business, at least?”

“Father Arin practically raised those two. They meet with Father Arin before they leave for every mission and the moment they return. The guards recognize them.” Rune sighed. This answer satisfied Tempest, and he remained quiet.

Upon passing through the doors, Tempest himself gawked at the beauty of Father’s Keep. It was simply a long hall that led up to a throne, with adjacent rooms on either side. But the hall was lavishly decorated, down to every last detail. There was a carpet, which Tempest recognized immediately from his home country. On both sides of the carpet were decorative pillars, made of marble and carved with designs that boasted Father Arin’s wealth and power, and all the past Fathers had accomplished before him. The glass in the windows were stained, so that when the sunlight hit them just right the entire spectrum of visible color shone on the walls,the pillars, the floor, and on the throne itself. Upon the throne sat a man, dressed in long royal red robes and bearing a circlet on his head.

With Tempest and Rune tailing behind them, Farah and Aneurin approached this man.

“Greetings, Father.” Aneurin and Farah bowed slightly, Rune bowing behind. It took Tempest a second, but after making awkward eye contact with the man Tempest bowed himself.

“Welcome back.” Father Arin’s face was long, and his blue eyes were hard like rocks, yet deep like the ocean. He set his stern gaze onto Aneurin, who was not intimidated. “Do you have a reasonable explanation as to why you are late?”

“Tempest’s boat was late. Very late.” Aneurin shot Tempest an angry side glare, but the desert native looked rather lost in translation. “Farah, Rune, and I were out there waiting before sunrise, but his boat did not come ‘till almost noon. I am sorry, Father Arin.”

“Ah, Tempest.” Father Arin turned his attention to the mentioned Sulvikian. “I welcome you to Euphasia. I hope that you will find everything to your liking, but keep in mind that you are now in a place where your nobility means nothing to these people. They will treat you the same as they would anyone else. Don’t let this be your downfall. But I now officially welcome you to the Euphasian Assassin’s League.” The man’s voice boomed. He waited for the adolescent boy to translate his words.

“Thank you, Father.” Tempest accepted this, having been told that he should treat Father Arin with the same respect he had to give Father Ramnill.

“I will excuse your transgressions this one time. You are home and safe, and that is all that matters. Now, I must tell you about your new mission.” Father Arin paused, waiting for any opposition. Their bloods boiled. They had just arrived home and Father Arin would not let them settle even for a day before sending them back out? But they quickly accepted this. They had been trained for this, after all. Rune quickly translated for Tempest.

“Normally I would let Tempest settle a few days before being sent back out, but this mission is of great importance.” Father Arin looked around to make sure there were no close ears, then carried on. “There is a small village a few miles northeast of here named Carius. We have a stationed Assassin living there who informed me just this morning about a potential ransack by the Ray’as. I need you all to leave early tomorrow morning and stop this ransack before it even beings. In the meantime, find out what you can about the Ray’as and what they are doing. It has been a while since we’ve heard from them, and it would be useful to know why they are coming back on such a small scale. Is it that their troops are weakened, or is that what they want us to believe?” Father Arin paused again. “I could have chosen another team, but I decided on you four because of your skill, and because this will be good to unite you all as one with your new comrade. I expect you all to learn from each other.  Do not prove me wrong in my decision.  Now, you all may be excused except for Tempest. I wish to see him alone.” Aneurin and Farah turned and left, but a though occurred to Rune.

“Don’t you need me?”

“It is alright. You are excused as well.” Father Arin lifted an arm and gestured towards the door. Confused, Rune passed through it letting it close completely behind him, and catching up with Aneurin and Farah.

UPDATE...Again.

I am very sorry for the month of inactivity. I've been trying to get my own life together, so maintaining this blog isn't exactly my number one priority.

But that doesn't mean I ever stopped writing. Even when I'm not posting, I'm still writing behind the scenes. I'm writing a lot.

In case you haven't noticed, I deleted Chapter 2 of Historical Tervik. A lot of developing and thought has gone on between Van (co-creator) and I since I published that chapter, which basically means I had to rewrite, well, almost everything.

I'll be posting a brand spanking new Chapter 2 AND Chapter 3 tonight, since they're both a little short. It couldn't be helped.

In the meantime, please excuse any inconsistances between the Prologue/Chapter 1 and everything else. You are reading this story in it's half-baked still mostly raw form afterall, so there's going to be mistakes, plot holes, and inconsistances. Bear with me.

Thank you for your time and please enjoy. I'm back!

-Pilot