Truths from the Past: Book 5 of the Kinstone series

The king taps upon a long scepter which stands by the throne, the light shines on it from the various windows along the walls, giving it a golden glow.

“Now, as of late,” he begins, “there has been a growing desire for expansion.” His head slowly turns, gauging the court. “For several months I have heard the call from many for our borders to extend southward into Palestine or north into Russia. While we do control the lands to the east, this still is simply not enough.”

He then brings the scepter in front of him, tapping it lightly on the floor. The room is silent aside from quiet whispers from several.

I look around, watching as a few of them move slightly, possibly wanting to better look. The elves and gyphons seem repulsed at the idea while a few of the dragons seem indifferent. The dwarves and goblins seem eager at the prospect. No doubt meaning an uptake in weapon and armor production. War has always been an extremely profitable business.

One man from Drakthul steps forward. He’s heavily built and adorned in medals, giving him a high-ranking officer vibe. A chord runs down from his left shoulder to his right with a cape covering his left arm.

“Why not invade west?” he suggests. “The so-called, ‘Holy Roman Empire’ is currently in a state of civil war thanks to the actions starting decades ago. We could potentially sweep into their lands before any had the chance to realize what has happened.”

I cling to the straps of my bag as it rests against my back. What would history look like if Dewloura had moved west? Would the Renaissance and Reformation continue? So many more questions flood into my mind. Hell, would they even go as far and start exploring past Gibraltar?

Another man, this one from Laevatain steps forward. “I say to go south. The damned Ottomans have become far more belligerent as of late.” He shifts slightly as he turns and faces the court. “I have reports stating they have begun to encroach upon our lands once more, now even sending envoys demanding our surrender.”

I remember this conversation with Galen and Darius. They advocated retaking Constantinople from the Ottomans. War in this era is common, I get that, but you have to choose your battles carefully. Conquest and defense are two completely separate things. From what I learned of last year, it was purely defensive.

But if an empire needs to expand in order to survive that too is a natural state of the world. However, I haven’t seen a real reason to expand, given from what I’ve seen in the past few weeks. Serasfall has also been giving me news reports from all over the city, stating trade is booming throughout the region. Merchants are flooding into the city with new goods and bringing more wealth.

It’s too perfect I know, and I don’t know everything given my limited time here. I’d be arrogant to say I have the complete picture.

The man from Drakthul scoffs, “The Ottomans are merely blustering like wounded rats. They must still be stinging from us routing them last year.” He then smiles, “Our armies have grown since that glorious battle, our numbers bolstered by daily recruits from all over the empire.”

I lean over to Veylana, “So who’s who?”

She looks to me, “The man from Drakthul is Temalin, the High General and leader of the armies. The one from Laevatain is Halifar, leader of the magi. Both men sit upon the ruling council along with Auntie and Father.” I nod slowly. “Temalin is constantly eager for war. His calls for it drove Dewloura into that campaign last year.”

I nod softly, yet somehow I don’t fully buy that.

Tyrion steps forward, “That victory,” he starts, “came at a heavy cost.” He then steps towards the middle the room, staring at both men. “The empire should not be seeking war at this time.”

Temalin scoffs at him, “Shyair, always seeking peace through diplomacy. Never willing to truly sacrifice anything for the betterment of the empire.”

My uncle growls at him. “I lost both of my nephews to that foolish and wasteful campaign you petitioned for, Temalin! My sister and niece still mourn their deaths to this day.”

Temalin merely grins, “Oh, I do remember, my dear friend. Their deaths were glorious, saving many of their forces. They died with honor, and for the glory of the city.”

His tone is full of mocking and clear disdain. Even my blood is boiling at the thought of not being able to meet them with as Celes and Serasfall said, having them become like brothers to me.

Tyrion growls yet again, “Do not demean their deaths with such jovial words.” He clenches a fist, “For Drakthul is still to blame for not heeding the words of Belron.”

The high general huffs, “If your nephews were stronger men, then they would not have died so easily.”

This twitches a nerve in my temple. As much as I hate Selene, this man is mocking my family. Even the dead deserve respect. You are such an arrogant pig and I wish I could snap some sense into you. My eyes then catch a blur as they move across the room only to meld back into the shadows.

My uncle’s anger grows rapidly only to relent as he breathes. “Drakthul should remember while they do lead the armies, they are also the empire’s chief diplomats. While I do believe the empire can and should expand, we should so peacefully.” He looks to Drakthul, “Perhaps you shouldn’t always sate your bloodlust.”

Temalin takes a step towards Tyrion, smirking, “Always quick to cower away when true glory and purpose calls to us.” His arms cross over his chest, “While you are strong in the field, acting as true forces of nature, you in turn desire to keep this empire from expanding towards what it truly could be.”

He takes another step, “We could become an empire greater than Rome in land and far more in power.” He turns and faces the court, “The very continent cowers before our might. Why not press this advantage? We have a destiny that could bring forth a glorious future for us all.”

Murmurs erupt within the court with some starting to agree with him. Others remain hesitant and some silent. I look around, seeing several from both houses shift about.

“Fear and power does not always equate to prosperity,” replies Tyrion. “We should not war unless it is truly necessary. Expansion merely for reason we have the means to do so is pointless. Our ‘destiny’, as you call it, would lead us to ruin if we overextend ourselves.”

That was the greatest failing of Rome. The empire simply grew too large to maintain and did not have the forces to maintain the borders or a means of communication fast enough to relay information. Now from what I’ve seen of Dewloura, they have both. However arrogance and pride goes before the fall.

Halifar smirks, “I agree with Temalin. Shyair has grown soft. Even your vaunted brother is never here when he is needed most.” A grin begins to stretch across his face, “Perhaps…it is time end its misery. So few of you remain.”

Temalin grins darkly as he nods, “The failing house should be plucked out from the fertile soil of the city.” He then looks to Veylana and me, “The city and empire would be better off without a second royal line to get in its way.”

The murmurs and whispers begin to grow stead and louder. I pan around the room, seeing subtle movements going in and out of the crowds. Both Drakthul and Laevatain camps slowly start to smile and shift about.

Tyrion calmly rests his hand upon his sword, causing them to back off slightly while their heads hold firm, still grinning, still raring for a fight.

Anteon steps forward, “Shyair, since the first founding of this empire, has acted the voice of reason. Keeping our people on the path of greatness by tempering it with wisdom.” He glares at them, “In the past you would listen and heed, yet now you bare your fangs at them?”

He then takes another step, “I fought against the Ottomans last year,” looking to Temalin, “your arrogance and brashness led to so much needless death and pain. So much needless bloodshed upon that field.”

A green dragon steps forward, “I too fought in that campaign, yet I still do not understand why you didn’t listen to your young princes when they pleaded with you to end it. I align with Shyair and Titalos and will not vote for war, nor shall my clan.”

I watch as all of the dragons present nod in agreement.

I peek at Veylana, “Who’s the dragon?”

“That’s Ashlan,” she whispers. “He’s one of the many dragon clan leaders and good friends with our family.”

I nod slowly. Dragons and this family, something more I have in common with them.

Temalin merely rolls his eyes, “Pathetic, and here I thought more highly of the power and strength of dragons.” He then turns to Anteon, “And there is you and your wretched family. You always are quick to rush to the aid of your masters, just like the good dogs that you are.”

The dragon growls, taking a step towards him, only to be blocked by several members of Drakthul, all smiling and ready to fight him. I glance over to see even Laevatain smiling and moving closer.

I look to Veylana, “Was this same as last year?”

“No,” she says. “This is much worse. Drakthul and Laevatain always bluster during heated meetings, saying Shyair should either relent in our meddling or even disappear and allow Nethune to take over without question.”

Her voice begins to shake as she becomes visibly scared. “Some…somehow I think they actually wish to fulfill their threats.”

I look over to the king, who is sitting quietly upon the throne. My head tilts as I see him simply smiling as the other two great houses begin to rare up for a fight. Normally a king would intervene and calm everyone, yet he’s not. The more I watch him, the more I see a growing deviousness within his smile.

I then pan over to his house, to which I see a few missing from their ranks. Those I do see seem to be smiling, if not happy that this is going on. My eyes then catch the blurs I saw earlier, this time able to see them clearly. Either, or not to my shock, I see several of their members mixed in with the other houses, seemingly whispering into their ears.

I look up at my uncle, who is far too focused on the men in front of him to notice what’s going on. I feel my heart shudder as I gaze at Selene and her family. This…was an obvious trap and we fell right into it. My eyes then widen as my heart pangs yet again. Velkin and Belron were not merely killed on the battlefield. I glare upwards as I let out a silent swear.

The insults and threat continue and even accelerate, yet all the while the tension mounts. Tyrion and Anteon they their hardest to either quell the session or shut it down. Neither meeting with success.

Temalin then reaches over and grabs for his sword, “I think it’s time to end this squabble, don’t you think, Tyrion?” He grins, “First I will start here with you and the little girls. Then I shall move onto your dear, sweet sister and her daughter. I will personally end the line of Shyair and the farce of your family.”

Tyrion glares at him. “Stand down, Temalin!! You dare to threaten my family, even children?”

He grins, slowly taking a step towards us. My uncle then steps in front of Veylana and me, along with our wolves. The dragons snarl at Drakthul and Laevatain, trying to stop Temalin but are blocked by his house and those of Laevatain.

Temalin merely grins as he is joined by others in their slow march towards us.

I knew politics in the past were cutthroat at times, but not literally. The more I watch, the more I legitimately become afraid. Behind me I hear the all too familiar sound of knights donning their armor. I peek back seeing our escorts clad in armor similar to that of Orga and Kateryna. Both have their weapons at the ready.

I look forward, gauging the situation. If I have anything to go off of, it’s my firsthand experience of the indignation of both houses, through their descendants. Not to mention being on the receiving end of their martial abilities.

Temalin grins as he takes another step, now slowly drawing his weapon. “Tyrion!!!” he shouts. “The days of Shyair are finally drawing to a close. We shall fully embrace our destiny, and will do so without your interference.”

My uncle growls as he too begins to draw his sword. The wolves all growl loudly at those in front of us. Fenris and Athena both are raring to lash out at anyone who even thinks of coming close to me. I then pan over to Veylana, who is already becoming more and more scared as she too has drawn her weapon, a short sword.

I look to Fenris and Athena, who both eye me. I then instinctively reach back for my kodachi, only to find nothing there. My mind quickly remembers that while I do have it, it’s broken and resting within my bag.

When my mental assessment completes, I find that even with four wolves, two knights, my uncle and cousin, along with the Anteon and his sons plus their guards…we’re just too outnumbered. Even with the dragons siding with us, this isn’t good. Not really the situation I’d like to be in, not again.

“Shit,” I say under my breath as I reach and pull around my bag. I know even magic wise, while I could put up a good fight, it's still not be enough. Too many unknowns going into this.

I open it and rummage around, thinking I could at least pull out my bokken to fight with. As my hand moves around, I feel it hitting something. I grab hold and pull it out, revealing my kitsune mask, the very same one I received after my shrine performance. I gaze at it for a moment, quickly coming up with an idea.

I grab hold of Fenris, leaning into him. “I’ve got an idea on how to diffuse this.”

He looks to me, “What do you have in mind?”

I smirk nervously, “Something that will probably get me into a crap ton of trouble with Serasfall.”

A smile then forms on his lips, “I shall support you, little Aria.” He then peers to Athena, giving her a weak smile. She merely looks at us, becoming worried. He continues to smile to her, giving her reassurance. Athena nods nervously towards us.

I smile to her as well, and then lean into Fenris, whispering my plan. It’s beyond stupid and risky. He nods and steps in front of me. I look over to Veylana, seeing her still transfixed to what’s in front of her. Around me I see that there is no one else next to me with everyone having moved forward to guard us.

I nod as I step further back behind my bonded and pull out a series of tags. I blow onto several, and toss them onto the ground and one to the massive chandelier overhead. Upon leaving my hand, they instantly turn invisible. I highly doubt that anyone in this room knows what kitsune magic feels like so I have that going for me.

Another factor in my favor is how the room is completely distracted, not only with the growing bloodlust, but the mounting magical pressure. With all that, my magic would seem like adding a glass of water to a raging river.

I tie the mask over my face and place a tag onto my chest. I take a deep breath and send a pulse of magic towards one of the tags I tossed towards the chandelier. The tag erupts into an immense bright light, causing everyone to groan and shield their eyes. I tap on Fenris as he slips into my shadow while I transform into a kitsune and rush towards the center.

The light slowly fades. As it does, Fenris leaps out of my shadow in full view of everyone. As the crowds recovers, they gaze at him, his midnight-black fur waving softly against the gentle breeze that swirls around his body.

Above him, the light sparkles down like gentle dancing firelights as I slowly descend from above. Some might equate this to an angel coming down from heaven as beams of light shine around me. Soft bells ring as I touch the floor.

They stare on in awe of me. My clothes are now a multi-layer kimono that shimmers and flows like water. Surrounding me is a floating lavender hagaromo, giving me an otherworldly appearance. It’s similar to something Yukari once showed me from the spirit realm, mixed with a little Dewlouran flare. To complete the effect, I have three kitsune-bi orbit my body.

Fenris slowly glares at the crowd as he coils one of his tails around me. I feel my heart racing wildly in my chest. Yep…this is a really stupid idea. While shock and awe is often a great way to get someone’s attention, it can easily fall apart if the user slips up if only for a moment. Even still, I really do not want to lose family, not ever again.

I hold out my arms, slowly turning to face everyone, my tails swaying softly through the air. My skin is snow white against the shimmering fabrics of the kimono. Part of me wishes my aunts were here to see this, to see their little niece put on full display the yokai I’ve become.

“I greet you all, sons and daughters of Dewloura.” I say, my voice mimicking Mom’s accent, having taken a considerable amount of time to practice it. It echoes softly, giving an almost nonhuman tone. “I am a fox spirit who watches over the city.” I turn again, my bare feet scraping against the carpet, the bells ring once more. “Who is bonded to the black wolf.”

The crowd slowly steps away from the center of the room. The sounds of weapons dropping to the floor echo through my ears. Fenris and I exude a soft yet steady stream of power, our auras phasing in and out of sight, appearing like a waving cloud.

I’ve always and forever will say that I don’t like flaunting my power. But this is a situation that demands that I do.

“The calls of war are not needed,” I continue. “Nor is the need to shed the blood of your kin. Do not seek destiny at the cost of yourselves.”

Internally, I’m keeping my heartbeat steady with every breath I take, trying not to break character. My words are slow, calculating and deliberate, allowing my mind to articulate them as I speak. All the while Fenris is watching the crowd. His piercing ice-blue eyes cause many more to drop their weapons.

I look to Tyrion, “I know of the pain of your loss, for it too pains me deeply.” I bite back my tears, not only for Velkin and Belron, but for my mother as well. “You must remember the children still in your care, for they look to you for protection.”

He pans over to seeing a frightened Veylana, still clenching her sword. Beside her is “me”, standing being another Fenris. He then turns his gaze back onto me.

I look to Drakthul, moving gracefully, as though I was the air itself. “Ne’nesh far’ick culcoran Drakthul. E’vrem suhed josharseavan. Tsveryi haholan geumkcos newlura.” (See to the wisdom of calm words Drakthul. You have also found honor within them. You must not break the pact once more.)

The high general lies stunned, with him and his house picking up and sheathing their weapons. Their mouths hang agape as they nod.

I turn to Laevatain. “Aheatsh hafu’eshi vuhall feawair nulosh Laevatain. Juesan nea’ean sacvane’ish musan kurit hircan.” (Lay not your hearts in anger, Laevatain, for you flow as the water upon the shore. See to the wisdom of crystal, for you are great when you are as one with others.)

I feel the magi’s magic fade away, with some dropping to their knees at my power. Another reason I don’t like doing this is the same feeling I had when I met Titania for the first time. She exuded such a massive presence that it overwhelmed me. I love her to death, and I think of it as my first lesson from the fae queen.

Fenris growls heavily at everyone, further pacifying the room. He then let outs a loud and commanding bark which causes the wolves present to quickly bow to him.

I finally turn towards Nethune, glaring intensely as the scattered members rejoined their kin. My hidden eyes then fall onto Selene, feeling a seething anger towards her. My tails swish yet again against the floor as I stare at her.

“Anata wa watashinokazoku ni gai o oyobosu koto wa kesshite arimasen.” (You will never harm my family.) The members of Nethune look on in confusion at my words, clearly unable to understand them. It’s another gamble, hoping no one in attendance has traveled to Japan.

The room is silent and still. My ears subtly listen for any sudden movements or hints of action towards Fenris or me. My tails rest softly around me with three still held high, a sign of alertness and nobility amongst kitsune.

I know I’m playing a role, but I am the daughter of a countess and of royalty. Not mention two of my aunts are of high status in Japan. So I must act as I am.

I look around the room, still seeing the gaping crowd in utter shock. The silence is deep and deafening. I look to the dragons, which appear to be in utter awe of me. Even Ashlan himself seems to be taken aback.

I take a breath and turn slowly, “Heeds my words, sons and daughters of Dewloura. For we shall be watching.” I then rest my hand onto Fenris’ fur. My bonded slowly turns and steps behind me, wrapping his tails around my form.

A blinding light once more envelopes the room, generated from a hidden tag beneath my feet. When it fades after a moment, it reveals an empty floor.

The people gathered look to each other, with some offering muffled whispers with more simply dumbstruck.

The king slowly rises from his throne, hands tightly gripping the armrests. “The spirits have come and issued a warning to us on this day. The appearance of a Black no less, troubling and humbling to say the least.”

His words tremble softly, sounding fearful and tormented. “They do not wish for us to war.” He takes a haggard breath, “I must…consult them on this matter, seeking further guidance.”

The king then slowly turns and exits the throne room, quickly followed by his house.

After he leaves, the crowd speaks for a moment and then begins to disperse. Slowly and quietly filing out of the throne room.

Tyrion turns to see his daughter transfixed as she clings desperately to her wolf. He gently rests his hand onto her shoulder. Veylana peers up into his smiling face and settles down, sheathing her drawn sword.

He then turns to see me standing beside her, with Athena looking to me.

Fenris and I had returned to our original positions, with me reverting to a human and dispelling the clone tags and having also summoned the ones I threw out earlier; quickly erasing any traces of the magic I used using fae magic. Not the easiest of things to combine mind you.

He nods and silently motions us towards the door.

We spent the next couple hours at the residence. Valera and her daughters were quick to return and were horrified when Tyrion explained to them what had happened at court. Galen and Darius also returned and were briefed by Veylana. They were never told of the summons and only learned sometime after the meeting had taken place. This only further lends credence to my theory it was all meant as a trap.

I simply sat in the parlor with Fenris and Athena who both had been comforting me ever since we got back. I had also changed back into my original clothes, with Veylana offering the dress to me as a gift. Both wolves gently nudged and nuzzled my face, giving gentle groans, letting me know they were there.

The reason why I’m sitting here is that Tyrion told me to stay at the residence, allowing for the citadel to quiet down. On the way back, we heard the numerous whispers of what happened. That also meant the guards were on high alert. It’s not every day when a “spirit” actually appears.

The appearance of a black Uldulvan wolf no doubt is sending shockwaves throughout the nobility as well. Whispers of change were heard all the way back.

I sigh softly, shaking softly as I sit on the couch. I peer up to see Veylana and her brothers also with me, each bearing gentle and comforting smiles. Veylana leaned into me, hugging me tightly.

“Where is she?!?!” I hear being bellowed out.

I timidly look up to see Serasfall storming towards the parlor. Tyrion rises from his seat to intercept her. “Serasfall, please wait,” he pleads. She pushes past him and makes a beeline straight for me.

I wince as she draws closer, feeling afraid of what is to come.

Serasfall stands in front of me as I rise from the couch. She then takes hold of my shoulders, gripping them tightly. She peers down at me, her shadow covering my head.

“What you did was utterly foolish and reckless,” she says shakily and angrily. Her words scathe deeply into my heart, making it plummet into my stomach. “You could have exposed yourself to the entire court, or worse…have been killed.”

“Auntie,” chimes Veylana, “there was nothing else that could’ve saved us.”

Serasfall glares at her, to which Veylana squeaks and steps back.

I know what I did was stupid, not to mention risky as all hell. There was just no other way to get out of that situation. I peer up at her, ready to face my punishment.

As I do, I see tears welling up in her eyes, her mouth trembling. She then quickly pulls me into her, holding me tightly against her chest. I feel her hand stroking my back. Her warmth and tight grip feels more like a mother’s embrace. Part of me nearly wants to melt into her.

She presses her face against mine, with her cheek on my temple. “I could not bear the thought of losing another of my children.”

My cheeks burn hotly as my body stands stunned. “Her…children?” I know she said the same thing the morning she outed me, but this feels…deeper. I reach up and cling to her, yet hold back the wandering fantasies flooding into my mind and heart. I just can’t take that step.

But there are some steps I can take forward, and openly now.

I bury my face into her chest, “What I did…I’d gladly do again for my family.”

Serasfall slowly pulls back, looking to me. Tears roll down her face as she pulls me into another tight embrace, wrapping her arms around my tiny frame. I feel her placing a kiss onto my forehead.

“You have no idea of how I happy I am to hear those words, my darling Aria,” she says. “For you are a true daughter of Shyair, a daughter of this family.”

I blush deeply, clinging to her. My heart beats heavily in my chest as her words echo and reverberates in my ears. I smile softly as she holds me.

I feel her giving me another tight squeeze before letting me go. She looks to me, eyes filled with joy and a slight mother’s anger. “We are going home young lady.”

I nod to her, “Yes Ma’am.” She then steps back and heads for the door, giving a moment to speak with my uncle, before leaving with Fenris and Athena.

Veylana pulls me close into a hug, “Thank you. Thank you for everything, for being my cousin.”

I smile, hugging her tightly. “No one messes with my family.”

She smiles, squeezing me tightly. I then feel a hand on my shoulder. I look up to see Tyrion smiles warmly to me.

“The next time you visit us,” he starts, “I promise it won’t involve Court.”

I giggle, nodding. “I’m going to hold you to that.”

He smiles, pulling me away from his daughter and into his own hug. “Be well my niece.”

I nod, holding him tightly. He squeezes one last time and the three of us walk out into the hallway.

Standing by the front gate is Fenris and Athena as they speak to Rhea. The wolf matriarch walks over to me, staring deeply and fiercely into my eyes. I then feel her whacking my butt with her tail, “Foolish fox of a child.”

I blush softly, nodding to her.

She then smiles, pressing her massive head into mine, “I am proud of you, little Aria. Proud in your defense of family.”

I smile, stroking her muzzle, “Thank you.”

Rhea groans softly before stepping back and kneels down. I then watch as Serasfall sits down upon her back, softly taking hold of her fur.

Fenris steps beside me, kneeling down as well. I smile, taking my spot. He then slowly rises and look to Rhea and Serasfall. Athena smiles to me, staying close.

I look back towards my uncle and his family, all still smiling to me. I smile back, “I’ll see you guys later.”

They smile and nod. I tap Fenris and we turn and leave the residence.

The nighttime air is cool and crisp as the five of us run through the near empty city streets. I peer up into the sky, seeing thousands of twinkling stars. Today ended up nowhere even close to how I expected it did.

I peer over to Athena as she easily keeps in step with us. The silver wolf gives me a motherly smile as she runs close to me. I smile in return, still wondering about something from earlier.