Helio - Deciding One's Fate

  The frozen winds of winter howled, flurries of snow coursing through the desolate streets of Hollybith. It was night. The streets were empty, shy of the odd gritter or unfortunate soldier that had been bundled up in furs to patrol the streets. This winter was worse than the others had been. It had come early – snowfall weeks in advance of the seers’ predictions. Helio Solstrider couldn’t help but be enamoured by it, in some bizarre way. He stood upon his chambers’ balcony, his white gloves gripping the slick railing and his crimson cloak wrapped tightly around him, shielding him from the worst of the cold. He’d spent many an evening out here, alone with his thoughts, the howling wind and the stars above him. Those evenings always came to a close, however.

  Cuh-lick. The door behind him swung inward, a blast of warm air assailing his back. He didn’t need to turn his head to know who it was. There was only one man who would visit him in these times.

  “Is it that time again already, Sebastian?”

  “Indeed it is, milord. I would ask you to return inside, lest you catch cold.” His retainer’s gruff voice was nearly silenced by the wind. Helio wanted to stay out here longer, watching the odd worker going about their business. Alas, he was also hungry, and that hunger took priority above all else. He turned about on his heel with a nod, passing through the door that had been gratefully opened for him.

  It was like stepping into another world, truthfully. Within and without Guinevere’s Flame, the great palace that the Solstriders called home. Inside, a great fire roared in his fireplace. The intense howling wind replaced with a gentle, quiet crackling. Both were equally dangerous, though; he knew that much. Too much fuel upon it and the fire would see the whole palace reduced to ash without a thought. That was the essence of nature, though. At least the howling winds were kind enough to wear their callousness on their sleeves.

  “What have we for dinner today?” He pulled a chair out from under his dining table before Sebastian had chance to. He slipped his gloves off as he waited for his meal, resting them gently on the fire’s side of the table that they may warm and dry themselves from the railing’s snowmelt.

  Sebastian approached, lifting up the cloche from atop his plate. Stewed beef, cooked in a mushroom broth, paired with potatoes roasted in goose fat and a mixture of finely diced autumn vegetables, surely the last fresh vegetables of this year’s harvest. All the rest would be reserved for the solstice. He had half a mind to lick his lips, but that wouldn’t be lordly at all. Instead, he primed his knife and fork and began to eat. The beef was cooked to perfection, separating at the slightest touches from his knife. The potatoes, likewise, were masterfully made. Their shells bore a remarkable crunch, but their interiors were light and fluffy. If the fire wasn’t enough to warm Helio through, then his dinner certainly would’ve been.

  “You’re distracted, milord.” The same prodding sentence that came every dinnertime. Helio frowned, skewering a chunk of parsnip on his fork and inspecting it as if it were some unknown foreign object.

  “As I ever am, Sebastian. The prince’s life is one full of questions and mysteries, after all.” He plucked the Parsnip from his fork and began to chew, hearing Sebastian out.

  “What is it that weighs on your mind? You are not falling behind in your training, I know that for certain, so what is it, I ask you?”

  “I am to turn eighteen this coming summer, Sebastian. Me and my sister both. Yet she is to enter the royal court, her opinion weighed on the scales of justice alongside all the great lords of the nation. And what is to come of me?” Sebastian was silent for a moment, as if thinking. A finger moved to tweak his mighty moustache, the last of the hair upon his head. He and his sister had once joked that he had traded all the hair upon his body just to grow it, and how finely trimmed he kept it indeed. It was almost as important to him as the prince himself was, Helio was sure of it.

  “You aren’t lacking for options, that much is for certain. With your magic, you could make for a great Hegumen. With your strength, you could be a general amongst the forces of the Elloras. Even the Skywings would be pleased to have you, I’m sure. Your mind is like no other, you would make for a fantastic playwri-” Helio raised his hand, shaking his head. He swallowed his chunk of beef.

  “I do not wish to be a playwright, Sebastian. Nor do I care to join the clergy. And if I am to be a soldier, I would rather fight amongst the ranks like Knight-Commander Felix does for House Leoborne.”

  “Sire, that is a house for the lowborn. The prince lowering himself to such a status would be a mark on your sister’s honour as well as your own. You shared a womb and, so too, do you share a reputation. Any dishonour that you bring upon yourself,”

  “I bring upon her, too. Yet not a peep of her honour coming my way, is there? The first of her name made the crown only due to her own brother, yet his name is little more than a footnote in the histories.” He sighed, placing his knife down upon the side of his plate. He had suddenly lost much of his appetite. He shouldn’t have humoured his retainer, not tonight.

  “If my presence is destined to bring her dishonour, then I shall simply go where I cannot dishonour her. Where it is steel and strength that marks a man, not their cunning. A land where I am not given some lady I do not know to marry, where I am not destined to govern some disrepaired march for my sister’s benefit.”

  “And what is this promised land, free of burdens, that you speak of? For as long as your hair is as green as the meadows and you have the power of the stars in your heart, you are a Solstrider, my prince. Your reputation will follow you regardless of where in the queendom you go.”

  “Then I leave the queendom. Purchase a horse, some armour, and ride north. Trading caravans to Gailtrad are always looking for able bodies to protect them. From there, I can surely make my way further north yet. To the prismatic halls, that lay at the foot of Eclesia’s Tower. The knights of the aurora care not where you’re from, I would fit right in.” He could imagine himself now. A greatsword in his hands, a cape billowing behind him, decorated in a thousand shifting colours. With him joining these hallowed knights, the people surely would not have to worry about long, early winters again, he’d make certain of it.

  “Your mother would never allow it. Now eat. A hungry knight is a dead knight. And we will speak no more of this folly.”

  Helio lowered his gaze and nodded, pushing the remnants of his beef around his plate with his fork.

  “...I shall need to discuss plans for the upcoming solstice festival with my mother, Sebastian. Would you mind arranging a meeting with her tomorrow, whilst I am training?”

  “Gladly, milord. Although it may be some days, the festival has her quite preoccupied, I’m sure you understand.”

  “I do. I do.”

  The tea room, more than the throne room, the war room, or the council chambers, was the singular most important room in the entirety of Guinevere’s Flame. It had seen generations of Solstriders. Kings and Queens both sat at the head of the great glass table, backed by the great windows that overlooked the royal gardens. It was said that the war of solar ascension was won from this room more than any other, amongst lords and ladies talking amongst each other as equals, dividing the nation amongst themselves as easily as carving a slice of cake.

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  Sebastian held the door open for Helio as he approached. His Lady Mother was waiting, wearing a thick red dress. And next to her, dressed in violet... his sister. Both of them had green hair – though, unlike Helio’s paler green, theirs was darker and richer. The colour of holly – particularly with the red hairpin that his twin was wearing. Helio knelt, his gaze locked on the ground. He didn’t register the food or drinks on the table – courtesy came first.

  “Mother. Sister. It is by the grace of Artorias himself that we have been able to meet this day, before the most hallowed of solstices. I understand just how busy your schedules must be, I am eternally thankful that you would take the time out of your days to meet with me.”

  “Rise Helio.” His mother – Queen Ceressil, seventh of her name, spoke. He did as she asked, raising his head to look at her and his sister both. Both of their smiles were warm, a sharp contrast to the chill of the world beyond the tea room’s window. “I do not recall instructing Sebastian to teach you to bow to your own mother. Come, sit. Warm yourself by the fire and have some cake. You may leave, Sebastian.”

  “Of course, Milady.” The bald man bowed, leaving the room and closing the door behind him. For a moment, Helio felt a bolt of fear strike his heart. He and Sebastian, he felt, were on the same page. Or similar enough that he would be able to help in convincing his mother. Instead, he was alone. The inviting smile of his own blood, for a fleeting moment, felt like the twisted lips of a Panther, ready to strike.

  But he had a goal. He had a mission. He needed a stout heart and a strong will to complete said mission. He seated himself on a chair at the foot of the table and finally allowed himself to look upon the spread on offer. It had all been left untouched, but just a glance of the veritable feast on display made him hungry.

  Small Hylia Sponge cakes, their strawberry jam and buttercream offering a small taste of spring in this frigid time. Lemon tarts, which would balance out the sweet cakes very well, sausage rolls for a much-preferred savoury option, and a new type of cake that Helio had never seen before. It looked like a large Hylia Sponge – it was a cake split into two halves, with filling in the middle. Yet the cake itself was dark. Almost brown, like a carrot-cake. There was no jam, only buttercream that looked like unfired clay and crushed walnut to decorate it.

  There were a series of knives, forks and plates across the table – sharp enough to cut the cake where needed, not sharp enough to cause any real harm to a person with. Just right for a tea party, with the oldest of the plates having been host to countless slices of cake, Helio was certain. Amongst all the cakes was also a teapot – freshly prepared for Helio’s arrival, no doubt. Still scalding hot. He’d have some toward the end of the meal, he decided.

  “May I?” His curiosity got the better of him. His mother nodded, as if it wasn’t even a question. He would have taken a sausage roll to start with, but the new cake intrigued him. He carved himself off a slice. His mother joined him in sampling the new cake as well, though his sister – rather predictably – kept to the cake that she shared a name with.

  And he understood why as soon as he tasted the cake. It was... bitter, in a way. It had a distinct taste – the butter cream and the sugar in the cake dancing and sweet clashing together to give it a truly unique flavour. The cake-mix had crushed walnut within it, giving it an odd texture. It was nice – far more to Helio’s liking than the overly sweet cakes that his sister preferred – and quite unlike anything he had ever tasted.

  “The traders call it coffee. Grown from a tree in the southern archipelago. I have half a mind to rename the cake, however. A Ceressil Sponge cake... what do you think?”

  “I believe it best to call it what it is, mother. A cake of coffee and walnut. It’s quite self-explanatory, once the people learn what coffee is. Let the people call it a Ceressil cake if they desire. It’s through them that names and terms flourish, isn’t it?” Helio spoke before taking another forkful of cake into his mouth. The more he ate, the more he appreciated it. Besides – the only reason why the Hylia cake was called what it was, was purely because those were all the ingredients that remained after the war of ascension was finished. They marked her outright victory. His mother hadn’t made any such great achievements of her own. Not that Helio would say that, of course.

  “That is true enough... Now, my dear. What is it that you wished to discuss with me?” His mother grabbed a pair of teacups and poured both herself and Hylia some tea. He waited until she was done pouring until he spoke up.

  “I wish to discuss my future, mother.”

  “Your future?” His sister piped up, confused. Almost as if his future was already written in stone. “I thought you were to remain in the court – act as a royal advisor, or a military commander. Seek a knighthood. That’s what mother had said.”

  Helio blinked. That was nowhere near what he had envisioned for himself. He almost wished for that fate. A gallant knight, still at home, growing to be a beloved champion of the people. Yet, if that were to be his fate, he would already have a mount, a squire, and a blade. All he had was a wooden training sword to his name. He would already have brought down his first monster, not remained in the halls of Guinevere’s Flame.

  “I said that it would be one path that lay ahead of him, Hylia. Not his whole future. He is to be his own man – surely, he could want for a title and some land, instead? There is a lovely little tract of land that I could give you. The villagers there are friendly and the winters mild. You would want for nothing, my son.”

  “I would. My own freedom. My ability to choose and go wherever I please. Land may give me the funds to do as I please, but those funds would belong to the people. I may leave it a city of gold, but it would certainly leave me with a heart of stone.” He poured himself a cup of tea, adding in a splash of milk to cool it to drinking temperature. He gently tapped the side of the cup and took a skip. Perfect. The perfect brew, to be expected of the castle staff.

  “You seek freedom, then, and purpose? And how would you gain that?”

  “I had thought of joining the knights of the aurora, in truth, but their vow is old and sacred. It wouldn’t afford me the freedoms I so desire. So instead... I wish to adventure. To be a diplomat. It wouldn’t be far – Lady Eliza Goldsheaf of Schaffgart has a son two years younger than I. I would be in good company.”

  His mother halted, placing her fork on its side next to her slice of cake. She frowned, deep in thought. Her expression, however, was not a pleasant one.

  “It will open new trade opportunities – no doubt Lady Eliza herself would appreciate some of this cake, and the trade passing through Gailtrad will help the soldiers on the border too. We can only gain to benefit.”

  “And should my son fall victim to bandits? Bora is a different land to our own, Helio. Your name bears no weight – and it wouldn’t just be the banditry that wish to ransom you.”

  “You wound me, dear mother. To think that I would fall prey to bandits so easily? I have been taught the ways of the sword well.”

  “But we are as green to the world as our hair is, brother.” Hylia was on their mother’s side. Hardly a surprise, but it still hurt. They had been inseparable as babes. Before Hylia’s royal tutelage began. He smiled, a new idea forming in his head.

  “And how are we expected to know the world if we can’t experience it? Mother, surely it would do us both well to see the world. How can you govern if you don’t know the people you’re governing? How can you bond with people if you do not know them to begin with?”

  “Helio, I don’t like where this is going-” His sister cautioned, but Helio as already on a roll. He continued speaking, ignoring her complaints.

  “My sister will be safe. I swear upon it. But the experiences we both will have shall surely be invaluable. Please, you must at least consider it.”

  The silence was palpable. He could have cut through the tension in the room with one of the cake knives. He turned his attention back to the cake, beginning to pick at it again, wishing that his mother would forget his wish. Forget his idea. But she didn’t.

  “You shall enter the Solstice Tournament. If you win, then I shall allow you to go on your journeys. If your quest is blessed by Lady Adrianna herself, then who would I be to deny the gods? If you are successful, however, I have some stipulations. You leave in spring. You will be surrounded by personnel of my choosing. You will report back to me weekly, and if I have even the slightest sense of danger, I will recall you. Am I understood?”

  “Mother-”

  “Your brother’s right, Hylia. It will do you well to see the world. Some of my best friends are Boran. If you see Lady Freyja, do give her my regards, won’t you? And tell her to visit, it’s been far too long.”

  Helio remained silent. He couldn’t believe his ears. It had been far easier than he’d expected to persuade his mother, but he’d managed it. His mouth had earned him a chance, but his sword-arm would prove his worth. He clenched his fist, looking at his mother and sister with a flame in his eyes.

  “You have my word, as prince of the realm. I shall be victorious, mother.”