Vol 1: Ch 12: The Regent

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Grantig and Sephiron flew as fast as they could from the Death Keeper Gates. Heading back towards the Sylrillian Castle. The Grand Maester had casted the most advanced haste spell he could think of to make them both fly faster. Even Sephiron was impressed. As he was used to riding Storm, his war dragon, most of the time, it hadn’t occurred to him that a lone Sylrill – or in his case, half-Sylrill can fly as fast as he was going now. Grantig seemed anxious and on edge since the moment Scythe pointed out the time difference between Realms, and how the Princess and the other two guardians could be aging rapidly during the time they have spent wasted in that hall.

Well, it wasn’t a complete waste of time. Grantig thought to himself. He did figure out a lot of important information in that time. However, this made the knowledge even less bearable. He needed the time to answer all these questions that just sprung up, but at the same time, time itself is ticking so fast that he couldn’t quite keep up. He cursed his own inadequacy when Sephiron asked why he didn’t use a teleportation spell to get them both to the Talespirit Sanctuary. Grantig’s answer, with a condescending look, was that he couldn’t teleport to a distination he can’t see or has not visited before. And since he spent his entire life in the Magister Academy, training, studying, he was never a Sylrill of Destiny like Miraina. Furthermore, he did not know the exact location of the Talespirit Sanctuary. As a sacred location, the only place to find out where it was is through the Royal Palace map room. He couldn’t teleport there for another reason, and he grudgingly had to admit, was mainly due to himself. For security reasons, Grantig suggested a teleportation spell shield surrounding the Palace. As a result, they had to fly, like they were doing now, and judging from how long it took him to get there, with the help of the haste spell, it would still take at least an hour.

Grantig and Sephiron arrived at the west entrance to the palace. As soon as they landed, Grantig marched first towards the map room, followed closely by Sephiron. He barely noticed the court guards and servants greeting them. However, as they were both about the turn the corner, a white set of sparkly orbs formed itself in front of them. Grantig stopped, and a moment later, a female Sylrill emerged. Both guardians recognized very well the late King’s personal messenger.

“Messenger Remir,” acknowledged Grantig, nodding his head slightly, as did Sephiron.

“Grand Maester,” said Remir to Grantig, and turning to Sephiron she added “Sky General,” knowing that she now has both of their attention she continued. “The Council, Senate, and Lords of the Court await your presence in the Grand Meeting Room.”

“Messenger Remir, our apologies, but we really are in a hurry…” began Sephiron, but Grantig quickly laid a restraining hand on his shoulder.

“Please tell them we’ll head there right away.” said Grantig to Remir. With that she acknowledged his message left in a flash of bright orbs, the exact way she appeared.

“Why did you tell her that? Don’t we have to hurry or the Princess…”

“I know full well what will happen to the Princess, Sky General, but it would be wise to keep this information between the two of us for now. Damn it! They will demand a Regent be named, I’ve completely forgotten!”

Instead of heading towards the map room, Grantig now led Sephiron towards the Grand Meeting Room where the Council, Senate, as well as the Lords of the Court were waiting for them. All three groups were extremely influential in the running of the country, and only in a time of war such as this would they all come together in the same room.

“Surely they can wait if the Princess’s life is at stake!” As Sephiron continued to remind Grantig of their situation, it seemed to annoy the blond-haired older Sylrill even more, and it was to Sephiron almost as though Grantig’s glasses were about to steam up from frustration. Grantig figured that the only way to stop Sephiron from saying more than he should is to spell it out for him. He stopped in his tracks and turned back to face the half-Ulnorian.

“Think about it, Sky General. In a time like this, the first thing the court would demand is a regent be named. The regent is the one that has the closest claim to the throne. For the moment, no one is sure who will be this person. But the one thing is certain: if they do know, the only thing that stands between them and the throne is, however, many days it would take our Princess to age and die in whatever Realm she’d been sent to. We must avoid letting them know about this at all cost.” Satisfied that he had brought his point across based on Sephiron’s shocked and taken-aback expression, Grantig resumed his march to the meeting room where the politicians of Sylrillia were waiting for them.

“I understand now why we shouldn’t tell, but the Princess…”

“She’ll just have to wait a little longer.” said the Earth Guardian. He really wished sometimes that he could think single-mindedly like Sephiron, and he would give anything to be able to save the Princess he had sworn to protect. However, the politics had to be dealt with when the Sovereign is missing…and let’s face it, Sephiron’s not going to do it. He finished the thought in his mind.

When the two Guardians entered the meeting room it was a sight Grantig himself had never thought that he would ever see. The Grand Meeting Room was the largest meeting room in the Palace, the only room that could hold all the members of the three organs of the state at the same time.

The Privy Council – or Council for short, Grantig and Sephiron were both familiar with – most of them senior distinguished Sylrills who are experts in their own field who have advised the late King for centuries.

The Lords of the Court, only Grantig had ever talked to – law makers and judges of the realm to deliver sentences on the Soveign’s behalf.

The Senates were unfamiliar to both of them save from what they’ve read on the daily reports – representatives of the people of Sylrillia, the Senate are meant to ensure that the actions of the Sovereign, the Council and the Lords are just.

“My Lords and Ladies, and Honourable members of the Senate, my sincerest apologies for taking so long to come to you all,” began Grantig, addressing the floor formally and professionally. Sephiron thought it best to just stand still and watch the head of the magical order work his magic against the diplomatic crowd.

“We’ve heard that you and Sky General Dragonblight had been looking into the situation regarding the King’s death and the Princess’s unknown fate. Have you any further knowledge on the situation?” asked a member of the Council, who Sephiron recognized was Lord Sillion, one of the youngest members of the Council, and yet possibly at the very least a thousand years older than him.

“Yes my lord. We have visited the Death Keeper’s Gates and discovered the fate of the Princess and my comrades Captain Commander Solarus Phoenixdawn, and Commander Byakuron Stormkeeper; They are all alive and well, and should return to us in no more than three days,” lied Grantig as flawlessly as though he’d just been told by the trio they were going on a diplomatic trip to Ulnoria.

Sephiron tried his best to not look confused about the whole thing to avoid giving anything away and nodded as though he knew this all along, confirming Grantig’s statement. Several members in the room breathed a sigh of relief and began talking among themselves on how fortunate it is that the Princess of Light is coming back to them in no more than three days. However, not all of them were so easily fooled, and it was not long after the chatter began that a voice rose above the rest.

“So what exactly happened to them that would delay them for three days Grand Maester?” the question came from Duke Balthamus, someone Sephiron knew all too well. As not only was he a distinguished member of the Council, he was also a well-known veteran Dragoon before Sephiron’s time, his son, being among Sephiron’s own elites.

“King Menianos on his death performed a spell called Divine Celestial Intervention which transports those within its vicinity into a Realm. As a Sylrill of Destiny, our Princess would be aware of this, and once the Destiny of that Realm is Realized, which should be no more than three days, in this particular case, she should be able to return to us,” explained Grantig, bending truths here and there to make his lie more believable. “Based on the remaining magical residue and the disappearance of the two Kings’ heartgems, I was able to deduce the spell used. Our visit to the Death Keeper’s Gates confirmed that the Princess and her other two Guardians are alive, and we have located the Realm in which they have all been sent. Everything is under control, my Lords. There is no need to worry. Now if your Lordships and Ladyships of the Court , Counsellors and honorable members of the Senate would excuse me, Sky General Dragonblight and I have some important matters to attend to.” Grantig made as though to leave.

“And what, may I ask, are these important matters, Grand Maester?” asked Lord Breare from the top of the benches where he was sitting.

“The King’s Funeral, my lord.” Replied Grantig flatly before he added, “I would also appreciate all your help on this matter if you would be so kind. There is also the Princess’s accession to the throne to worry about.” With that, he heads towards the way he had come in with Sephiron in tow.
“Hold on, Grand Maester,” called Duke Balthamus again.

“Yes, my Lord?” asked Grantig calmly, betraying no sign of rush or urgency which is boiling within him. Although, he did notice that it is beginning to show on Sephiron.

“So, say these three days - Who will be acting as Regent before the Princess gets back?”

“If you will excuse my saying so my lord, the royal line as well as your distinguished accomplishments would make you the most suitable candidate.” Grantig turned around to the rest of the room. “The Lords of the Court would like to correct me if I’m wrong, but Duke Noctis Sylrillia Balthamus has the bloodline right to stewardship. All in favour from the Privy Council please show your hands.” There was a great majority of hands shown from the Privy Council. “All in favour from the Lords of the Court please show your hands.” All the Lords held their right hand up. “Those in disagreement from the Senate please voice your opinion now.” The Senate remained silent, demonstrating their approval of the appointment. “The House has spoken, may the three Great Lords of the Court complete the formalities and bear witness to the oath of the Regent.”

All of this happened so fast that even Duke Balthamus was not quite sure how to react. Grantig’s speech went as fluently as though he had been rehearsing out of the text book. The Duke himself did not seem to know that he was so close to throne, he was actually genuinely curious as to who would be the Regent, and now that the House had formally agreed, there was nothing more that he could do about it. At that moment, the three Great Lords stood where they were sat above the rest of the Lords of the Court, the judicial wing of the Sylrillian Kingdom, and gestured to the Duke.

“Duke Noctis Sylrillia Balthamus, please rise.” Said one of the Great Lords. The Duke stood as was bid and looked to Grantig, then to Sephiron for any hint or clue. Sure he had been a loyal subject to his King for over a thousand years, but acting as Regent was something he had never thought of ever having to do.

Grantig’s face betrayed no emotion whatsoever, it seemed as though he just dismissively picked the Duke’s name out of a hat and is now ready to head wherever it was that he intended to earlier as soon as the oath is taken; which was pretty much the case, although only Grantig himself knows this. Sephiron, despite having suggested the name himself, seemed as baffled by the whole thing as the Duke was, especially the speed and procedure at which this appointment is progressing.

“Do you solemnly swear on your honour, blood, and soul of a Sylrill to diligently serve as the Regent, in the interest of the Kingdom, till the day the Sovereign shall return?”

“I do my Lords.” Was the Duke’s only possible response. He was, for the most part of his life, a military man and had only joined the Privy Council as a friend and cousin to the King, not as a politician. He is going to have to have a word with the Grand Maester after this if he is to know how to organize all the two events mentioned before.

“Do you swear to be fair and just, and to exercise all prerogative powers bestowed upon you on this appointment to Regenthood, with benevolence and honesty?”

“I do.”

“Then by the powers vested in us and the Laws of the land, we appoint you Regent of Sylrilla.” The Great Lord concluded. At those words, a small magical arcane circle appeared surrounding the Duke Balthamus, it closed in on him around the shoulder area and with a small flash of light a badge the shape of the royal crest attached itself onto his cape by his brooch, a symbol that he is now Regent. All the Privy Council, Senate, and the Lords of the Court gave a bow in acknowledgment and respect towards their new Regent. Putting aside the confusion and self-doubt, the Regent decided that he should try as hard as he could and not betray the trust and confidence the House had vested in him.

“There are now two urgent matters we must attend to as the Ruling House. Esteemed members of the Privy Council, Honourable Members of the Senate, and my Lords of the Court. Please make haste to the preparation of the late King’s funeral.” The Regent ordered. “If there is no further matter to discuss, I shall adjourn this meeting here and now.” With that, the Sylrills in the room gave a bow and departed through the large window entrances high above their heads. Happy that the meeting is finally over, Grantig and Sephiron paced their way to the map room as they intentionally did.

As the two Guardians were about to round the final corner before they reached the map room, a familiar flash of orbs appeared again.

“Messenger Remir,” said Grantig. What does she want now? Sephiron gave him a quick worried glance, as they have already wasted precious hours in that meeting room.

“The Regent would like to have a word with the Grand Maester and Sky General.” Reported the Royal Messenger.

“Now?” Sephiron blurted out. “I…I mean, is it urgent?”

“I am merely a Messenger,” said Remir from her kneeling position. “However, if I may present my own views, I believe that he wishes to see you both at this moment.”

“Please tell him we will be there in a moment.” Said Grantig to the Messenger as usual. After she left he turned towards Sephiron. “Damn it! I shouldn’t have let such rashness get the better of me!”

“What do you mean?” asked Sephiron.

“There is always a flaw in appointing a military man as Regent. I just gave the name you mentioned earlier and improvised from there.” Mumbled Grantig, more to himself than to Sephiron.

“Sorry Grand Maester, you’ve lost me.”

“It seems like our Regent doesn’t know the first thing about standing in place for a monarch. I am guessing that he’s going to have us show him the ropes.” Explained Grantig to Sephiron who, realizing what this would mean to the little time they had, almost shouted out in frustration.

“Why can’t he let the Privy Council do that?” exclaimed Sephiron, then in an urgent whisper, since he had drawn attention from the servants, “and why both of us?”

“It is obvious why the Privy Council can’t know that he has no experience at the job. Well, you’re the one he’s familiar with, and I’m the one who gave his name to the House as far as he knows.” Said Grantig as he paced his way towards the Regent’s chambers. As they reached to double doors leading into the room, before opening it, he said to the Sky General; “I hope you’ve prepared a reason for giving me his name earlier.” With that, he opened the doors to meet the Regent.