"I choose to place my vote with High Chieftain Aistulf of clan Alberich..."
As Tercor said those words, Urik's features faintly faltered. The room was split, half in uproar and cheer, the other in heaving sighs and heavy groans. Urik had not thought his nephew would choose Aistulf and his plans over him -- nevertheless, he gave his word to abide by whatever decision Tercor would make -- and he began brain-storming how best to enact it.
Aistulf, his gaze still resting on the Young Rīks, gave a seemingly appreciative nod. Nothing more however, as he still found the sight of the boy king little more than outright disgusting. Gwellain also had his gaze on Tercor, now flicking between him and Urik, a deep furrow on his brows. Unlike Aistulf and much like Urik, he knew exactly how bloody the death toll Elledora may have to pay to enact this vengeance could be; as he had voted in line with Urik. Like most others in Urik's camp, he shuttered his eyes and breathed a broad tired sigh.
"The council has spoken, it has been forsooth decided. Elledora will pour her full might and bear down upon Svaldin and Jandmaar, in accordance with the plan set out by High Chieftain Aistulf Alberich. The night has grown long and the hour old, as adjuticator of the council I hereby call tonight's meeting complete and this emergency council dissolved."
"The war effort shalt be strategized by the war clans' talking heads in the coming days. Children, remain ever present and at the ready for any further communications thru Gröman; may Vegr-Gang guide you home."
With that said, Lady Edda rose from her seat once more and left; unlike most others she lived directly in the mountains of the ruling Ásvaldr clan. Soon enough, others rose from their seats or stretched where they stood and gave their appropriate regards to Tercor, Urik, and Aistulf. After the more ceremonial aspects were complete, they gradually disappeared, vanishing in a shimmering golden light.
Only Tercor, Urik, Aistulf, and Gwellain remained in the room, loud silence cast across them. Aistulf spoke up from his position near the table.
"You've made the correct choice bo- uh-hm, Young Rīks. Our kin will be avenged, I will see to it myself."
With those departing words, Aistulf too, vanished into a shimmering golden light. All the while Urik had hateful eyes toward the man, uncaring to hide his personal disdain.
Now, there were three. Tercor and Gwellain were seated whilst Urik was hunched over the table, his fingers tapping a mindless rhythm across the relief map atop it.
"I'm sorry Uncle, uncle Gwellain... I, uh, I imagine you both are unhappy with me..."
Tercor spoke in soft, hushed tones; as if he had just been scolded for his wrongdoings. Although the boy was tough and relentlessly drilled in training, he was just that: a boy. He still seeked some form of approval or vindication in his actions, even if those he looked up to disliked it. Urik remained silent, a rarity for the oft jovial man. It was evident enough to Tercor that Urik was in some form of disbelief or shock, who wouldn't be, his own nephew had voted against him. With another deep sigh, Gwellain finally broke the silence that had once more set in.
"Haaah... I cannot speak for your uncle but I am not all too upset. Think on it my dear boy, you are but eleven, you've yet to even reach your Senos Festival. It makes sense you chose with your emotions, even if it makes little sense logically. You have yet to experience the throngs of war... of what it does to men, men like myself... men like Urik. Aistulf has fought, certainly, but he was barely a man in the last war... and as heir to clan Alberich he hardly experienced the rawness of battle. You are alike with him in that regard, but if I am right, I believe you may yet experience it with what is to come. So don't place too harsh a penitent upon yourself, and sleep well."
Gwellain being a man of understanding, rose to give leave, to allow some space for the pair to talk in private. As he left he walked over to Tercor and gave him a firm, loving squeeze on the shoulder; a sad smile across his face.
Tercor smiled shallowly in response and soon enough, it was only him and Urik that remained.
"Unc-"
Urik solemnly moved beside the boy, hushing the Young Rīks with a soothing smile.
"Hush now boy. As I told you before, whatever your decision, I will support you; even if it was not in line with mine. Come along now, you need rest and I need to think, the path back down is lengthy and frigid."
With a soft squeeze of his shoulder, Tercor rose to his feet and moved to leave with Urik. The decision had been a monumental one, one that would decide Elledora's next steps in war and even now, it weighed heavy in the mind of the boy.
Urik was right, the trip back down felt longer and colder than before. After the pair arrived at Tercor's abode, Urik saw him off with a brief nighttime goodbye and swiftly left. As he washed up in his oft changed hot water basin, Tercor sank again into his thoughts; something he noticed had been ongoing throughout the day.
As he cleaned he reflected on everything that had happened so far, and everything that was soon to come. From his, rightfully so, emotional decision and even of his own self-perceived shame towards Urik and Gwellain. Although both had claimed otherwise, Tercor was subconscious of his actions and reputation towards both men he viewed in a fatherly light.
In a span of half-an-hour and change, Tercor finally finished his stewing and left his, now cold, water basin. With a hefty sigh, he finally laid down to sleep.
●●●
The coming days passed quickly. Unlike the War Council, Tercor was not privy to the further specifics of the talking heads of the war clans; although he did get some tidbits from Urik. For the most part his days returned to normalcy, albeit without Urik to act as his trainer and tutor, even Lady Edda returned as his teacher with no mention of the fast approaching war.
There were a few changes however: Gwellain was relieved of his position as house laborer to Urik so as to join in with the war strategizing, Urik also brought in another warrior to train Tercor in the mornings and evenings -- a young yet soon-to-be High Warrior named Iáech -- something Tercor felt disagreeable yet understanding of on the whole. Most critical of the changes was one Tercor felt incredibly joyous at, as Angharad was made to be his sole house laborer at the behest of both Gwellain and Urik.
It had been little less than a week since the initial War Council and Tercor had just finished his morning training. Iáech had just gone through the bare-bone basics of formation fighting with Tercor, something only integrated into the army when Urik and Tercor's father migrated to these lands. It may be surprising, but Elledora reached their renowned status as a mighty warring nation through their Shamanistic magick and Warrior's prowess alone.
As such, Iáech was the first of a generation of warriors that had grown and trained with the formations and tactics of Tercor's father and uncle. He namely taught him of the three most common formations: the wall, the circle or square, and the wedge. The wall being most useful against mounted opponents whilst your own wielded longer weapons, or even as a shield to smash opposing infantry into. The circle or square when your army became flanked our surrounded by mounted or on-foot enemies. The wedge being a critical component with which to split opposing lines or smash through encirclements.
Iáech's manner of teaching was distinctly unique from Urik's. Whereas Urik applied physical teaching during training and more strategic or tactical training in the library, Iáech did not have the affordability to teach more formally. Thus, while Tercor went through his forms or even during spars, he ruthlessly questioned him on the mental aspects while routinely hounding the boy physically with strikes.
For the times being however, Tercor could afford a moments rest; morning training had just concluded. As the boy returned his poleaxe to the weapons rack, Iáech came over to him with a chipper look about him.
"Young Rīks, while it may be true you have yet to see battle, a thing I believe shall be remedied soon, you are most certainly prepared for it... at least the more physical aspects. To think, you've yet to reach your Senos, is truly astounding to me. You spar like a man a decade your senior, and your body certainly matches as well."
Tercor not yet having warmed up to the man his senior by at least 15 years, responded tersely. Without Urik, Gwellain, Lady Edda, or even Angharad present, he was the epitome of stoicism. His face unchanging as he spoke, not even sparing the soon-to-be High Warrior a glance.
"Your praise is welcomed."
'This one feels like a leech, he praises me far too much and it feels little more than overt flattery... I'd rather Lady Edda herself come and spar me. At least then I'd get the raw truth of my flaws and strengths. Haaah, how annoying...'
Either Iáech noticed Tercor's shortness and did not care, or was entirely oblivious, the man left the young king's quarters with a bounce in his step. Tercor had long since removed his training tunic. It was something habitual he picked up from his uncle, a way that, as the man described it, allowed him to train more freely.
Tercor walked over to his exterior basin, placed there so he could freshen up immediately after training if he did not wish for a full bath and cleanse. He gazed long into his reflection; A boy stared back. One that may be mistaken for a man elsewhere in the world, but a boy nevertheless. For some time, longer than he had done any other morning, he simply stared at his reflection.
Across his deeply-tanned and sweat stained body lie numerous, yet faint, scars and bruises. Small cuts or minute swelling here and there gathered during his training, less common, now that Iáech took over as his trainer, but present nonetheless.
The boy in the reflection held a unique aloofness, as if naturally sharp towards the world, proof present in his eyes. The boy was heterochromatic, had differing eyes. His left was a tawny-crimson, the exact same as his uncle and according to his uncle: the exact same as his father too. His right was more distinct, rarer even, an umbral violet; similar to the blossom of a petunia or the skin of a wine grape. This was also inherited, belonging to his mother... or at least that was what Urik claimed.
Even his hair was different, unique from any of his family, or of any Elledoran for that matter. He had not the ashy-brown of his uncle and father nor the golden-blonde of his mother and countrymen, but rather, a silvering black.
Truly, it was something of bold distinction, and according to his uncle, had stirred up quite the rumor mill between his mother and father. Whether or not the boy was truly born of the married rulers, or if another entered the picture. All was soon settled by Lady Edda of course, as the woman had supposedly long since grown tired of the, "machinations of indolent dolts with little else to ponder over" and their scathing words. Urik claimed she merely flicked her hands and some magick, or mountain spirit, or perhaps both, had somehow confirmed the babe's validity; of the fact Tercor was indeed born of king and queen.
As Tercor stretched, his reflection followed in perfect sync. Where if one looked upon his body alone, they would certainly believe him to be a giant of a man of many battles. Like his face, his body sported numerous scars and bruises from training. It was a body in many ways similar to Urik's, albeit considerably shorter and thinner, as Tercor stood a bounding 2.2 meters or ~7 feet and 3 inches tall. Even compared to other Elledoran children he was on the taller end, yet Angharad, even being only a few years his elder, stood a towering 2.5 meters or ~8 feet and 2 inches tall.
Tercor's body was far more lithe and wirey than Urik's, but it was certainly not due to malnutrition. The Young Rīks was wirey and lithe, certainly, but his muscles looked as if carved from the mountains and felt like unbreakable stone. Were any onlookers to witness his exposed visage, they would be shocked at how so huge a man could have such chiseled features.
One such onlooker had just arrived.
■■■
Angharad had just passed Iáech, the man bounding down the mountains trail with a gleeful smile. As they crossed paths his face dropped into one of disgust toward Angharad, yet only for a few moments; just long enough for the girl to notice. Before he resumed his gait and continued down the trail. Angharad had, of course bowed, as is customary for house laborers to those of higher stations; her own face hardening at the sight of the trainer.
With a sigh the girl carried on, she held a basket of foods and toiletries to bring to Tercor, as he had been eating in his abode this last week. From what she could tell, Tercor was very bashful around her, and only her. Even during the time some of the other female house laborer joined her to do a more thorough cleaning of Tercor's abode, he had no problem speaking to them in kind. Yet to her, he was oddly silent... fiddling with his hands or even outright refusing to look at the girl.
Still, it was enjoyable. Tercor treated her very well, and more often than not, she felt as though she were the one with a higher station. Many times Tercor witnessed her changing his basin or bringing a bucket of coals for his hearth, only for the boy to sheepishly grab them away from her, telling her she needn't trouble herself or even to sit and relax.
She suspected he had a crush on her of course, although it was a new experience for her, she had grown up with many siblings and had long since known of what it meant. With her especially observant eyes, she noticed how her brothers -- at least those not already married or to-be-wed -- acted to those they felt afflicted by. Yet, for the most part, she simply saw the Young Rīks as a child, more childish than her in any case. She enjoyed him, at least during the few times he had spoken with her.
Whilst she pondered all this, almost mindlessly she entered the small, walled-in courtyard of Tercor's residence. As she looked up from her feet, a habit formed due to her overbearing siblings, she saw the boy standing before the basin. Almost immediately the girl blushed, a deep rosy tint rising to her cheeks. She may have been Tercor's elder by 3 years, but she was still an impressionable young girl. Almost as if it were déjà-vu reversed, the girl was instantly smitten with the boy. Just now, she had realized he was no paper king nor spoiled child: his body was hard and dense from years of training, truly forged for kingship.
In a panic she looked back to her feet, one hand taken off the basket handle to shield the top of her eyes. Angharad spoke in a deeply flustered tone as she addressed the young king.
□□□
"Young Rīks, a-uhm, I've brought you breakfast and... uhm, some toiletries that your quarters were low on."
A coquettish murmur delicately eeked out from behind Tercor, just across the courtyard. Tercor knew exactly who the owner of the voice was, his seemingly one-sided love had now begun to transform his dreams, Angharad's voice being one of the few things he constantly thought of. He responded in a manner Angharad had not expected, a manner he had not even expected, perhaps as a result of his constant introspection and reflection.
"Thank you Angharad. Also, please, just call me Tercor. There are more than enough people that call my station rather than my name... it uh... it feels pretty lonely not to hear it as often."
The Young Rīks turned to Angharad and quickly crossed the courtyard, standing inches from her. With delicate hands he grabbed her own that was holding the basket, softly placing it on the floor beside them. Tercor had always been stared at while training topless, from an age even younger; he had long since grown accustomed to it. Although the girl towered a full head above him, he treated her with incredible grace and tenderness. He softly grabbed her other hand that shielded her eyes as he spoke.
"Angharad, when you look at me what do you see? Do you see some future ruler that you must serve and appease to your fullest, or perhaps some young brat riding on the coat tails of his name and lineage? Or perhaps neither, something else entirely... I, uh... I want to know what you see... please."
While still in full blush, hand-in-hand with Tercor, Angharad entered contemplation. Her gaze studied Tercor, his face, body, even his hand holding her own. Tercor was happy the girl didn't immediately pull her hand away, letting it rest in his own; although he suspected it was due to his station and not of any relation the pair had.
After what felt like an lifetime of waiting, of being studied by the individual of his attraction, the girl finally revealed her thoughts.
"Well if you ask me You-ahhm, Tercor... than I would say that I do indeed see a boy."
Tercor's face fell for a moment as the girl seemed to stop speaking. Angharad had simply paused to choose her words however, and quickly carried on.
"Yet I also see a boy that is driven, what exactly hounds the boy I see, frankly, I can only imagine. Tercor, you are a boy driven by something powerful, something deeper than whatever High Chieftain Urik pushes you with or what Lady Edda chides you over. You... uhm... you also seem very disciplined. I... think... I think-th-that your body is p-proof of that."
Angharad glanced up from Tercor's trained body and stared once more at his face, and more acutely, his eyes. They are known to Elledorans as the windows to the soul, and Angharad seemed pleased to gaze upon Tercor's. At least the blush and faint trembling in her hands might imply as much.
"I also see more than a boy... I see a warrior, hmmm, or maybe I see a leader, or, or even a thinker... I don't know exactly but I certainly see more than just a boy."
Tercor was beyond ecstatic, the girl of his attraction, the girl that stole his very first love in life, had just complimented him in such a raw and thoughtful way. It may, once again, be due to his station, but at present Tercor had little care about that. For the first time since they met, when them and Urik and Gwellain burst out into laughter, Tercor smiled again. A deep, genuine smile. Riding on the buzz of the compliments and elation of the girl before him, Tercor did something he never expected to; not even in his dreams yet.
More emboldened than he'd ever been towards Angharad, he shut his eyes and leaned in for a kiss. For what truly felt like an eternity, the boy stood there in space and time, his hand still holding hers.
Much to his surprise, he felt a soft tenderness against his lips. As he shuttered his eyes open, he saw that Angharad had leaned in as well, her eyes shut and lips on his.
For a brief period, time slowed to a halt. The world around Tercor and Angharad seemed to come to a grinding stop. Tercor truly felt that, in this moment, he was the happiest boy in the world.