Sardis

Fulcher found himself riding through the woods, the wind blowing past his face. He knew he was not supposed to ride in the woods, but it did not matter. If the horse tripped, his dad would just get him a faster one. That is what happened last time, so there was no need to worry.
As he rode further and further, away from the shouting of his father and the yells from his men, he felt free. One day this whole woodland would be his to do with as he pleased. One day, he would be king. His horse bounded over root and rock, the beast huffing at the strain of running through such a hostile environment. As they traveled Fulcher looked to his right, spotting a small dip in the woodland landscape. He grinned and pulled his horse towards it, pressing into the animal to run faster, faster… faster!

But as they approached the dip in terrain, the horse did what no other had through Fulcher’s entire life; it denied him. Stopping abruptly at the very top of the hill, the horse dipped its head and cast the Princeling from its back. Fulcher did not even have enough time to remember to scream as he hit the hillside. The air was forced from his lungs as he continued to roll down the hill, catching glimpses of the large rock waiting for him at the bottom of the hill. He clutched desperately at the ground around him to try and slow himself down, but it did nothing as he felt his temple slam into the sharpened edge of the stone. Just as contact was made, he heard the roar of some great beast approaching, deafening him completely.

Fulcher sat up suddenly with a yell, grabbing at his chest as he felt his heart pounding. He looked around to see the empty farmhouse, the late afternoon light piercing through the window onto his arm.

What was that? That wasn’t my memory, he thought as he touched his temple. The sudden noise had drawn in Arrow, who bounded in through the opened front door. The wolf arrived with great force, colliding into Fulcher and licking his face. The affection did well to cast aside whatever fear he had felt from the dream he had, as Fulcher rubbed the wolf by the ears.

“Alright, alright! I’m up,” he assured. Arrow huffed and lifted up, allowing Fulcher to stand and leave the farmhouse.

To his surprise he found their carriage sitting idle in front of the farmhouse, with four new horses ready to pull them along with their journey. Vardia and several of the other farmers were busy trying to secure a makeshift door onto the busted doorframe. Giggling drew Fulcher’s eye to several children playing with sticks and straw, Stella amongst them. Near the middle of the town, he found Schon discussing with the Councilor. He approached the pair, yawning a bit as he rubbed his eye.

“Hey, sorry, I’m awake now,” he said. Schon glanced at him, offering a neutral smile.

“We got a visit from the cavalry, but Councilor Frederick here turned out to be an old friend of the leader of the unit,” she exclaimed, flourishing her hands towards the Councilor. Frederick chuckled and waved his hand dismissively.

“Ah, please Princess, you are too kind. He and I merely grew up in the same town, is all. His mother is doing quite well in the capital, which makes me feel just swell,” the Councilor said with a smile. “Oh, Prince Fulcher, I meant to tell you. Somebody came in last night that you should meet. Come, come!”

Schon smiled at Frederick and nodded to Fulcher, shifting away from the pair to head towards Stella. Fulcher and Arrow followed the Councilor to his home, stepping inside when he opened the door.

“When you told me you were practicing a wargame, I will be honest with you when I say that I did not believe you,” Frederick said. Fulcher stiffened slightly.

“Is that so?” he asked, glancing around the room for some kind of trap or secret he was missing. A door opened in the corner, leading to a bedroom. A man stepped out in ragged clothing, offering a kind smile to the pair. Fulcher blinked slowly, taking a moment to realize this was one of the men he freed at the Beast Pens.

“You see, my Prince, I heard a tale of your rebellion against your father from this man. He said you freed him and his peers from the pens outside the keep’s walls. Is it true, my Prince? Are you now working against your father?” the Councilor asked, hope gleaming across his visage.

Before he could answer, the former prisoner strode forward and took up Fulcher’s hand, shaking it roughly.

“Your fire magic was amazing, Sir. I hope you give that Tyrant King what he deserves,” the man said.

Rebellion… I suppose the other slaves are spreading similar rumors across the towns they travel through. Though, I suppose it isn’t entirely false, Fulcher thought.

“Yes,” he proclaimed. “I intend to usurp my father and take the throne in an effort to free the people from his oppressive rule.”

The former prisoner laughed loudly and clapped Fulcher across his back. The Councilor reached forward to shake Fulcher’s hand again, leading him back outside.

“My Prince, I think you will find many people across the Midlands ready to stand with you,” he assured. “Dilyniant’s rule has hurt so many. The lands are without magic, our sons trapped in wars, our money stripped with our resources and our dignity.”

Fulcher listened as he walked back to the carriage. He nodded along with the Councilor as Stella ran up to join them.

“Fuly! Fuly! Let’s do the shake!” she said, bouncing on her heels. The other children of the farms gathered around, curious to this ‘shake’ that Stella had surely spoken of.

“Not now Stella. So, Councilor,” Fulcher began. But Stella made sure to tug on his sleeve, drawing his attention back down to her.

“Fuly! You promised!” she said, extending her hand towards him. Fulcher glanced down, hardly paying enough attention to even remember what she was asking for.

“Huh? Oh, sure,” he said, reaching down to shake Stella’s hand in a stale imitation of greeting. Stella puffed her cheeks and tugged at his sleeve again.

“Fuly! You promised never to say no! I wanna do our special shake!” she said. Fulcher turned his attention to Stella fully now, offering an apology to the Councilor.

“Stella, that’s enough. I don't know what shake you're talking about, you'll have to show me later. But for now I’m busy talking to the Councilor. Go back to Schon, we’re leaving soon,” he said.

Stella stopped in place, the other kids frowning and moving away from the uncomfortable situation. Her sudden pause drew Fulcher’s attention again, peering back at her.

“Stella? Go on, go to the carriage,” he repeated.

But he was met with a hollow stare as dread filled the face of the girl. Her words were soft, but were filled with the conviction of someone finally understanding a great revelation.

“You’re not Fuly…”