The Bastard's Inheritance

Waking up with the sensation of hardwood on his cheek was ordinary for Brenn, Crown Prince of the Keirian Empire. HE woke up at the palace's library, with a book called "Bethor's Reign, by Archivist Onnis," still open before him. 

Brenn had learned the appropriate distance to place the book so he wouldn't drool on it if he fell asleep while reading, and he always did. Serra was going to scold him again for not sleeping in his chambers. Xaine Xora would give him a speech on how sleeping while sitting up was bad for his back, and that bad posture would make him appear less respectable when he came into his throne. But Brenn was not concerned with ruling any time soon. 

The Imperatus, his father, Zerre Challas, was a picture of health. He had just returned from a military campaign in the Muva Province with no signs of injury. No one could best him in combat, and there had not been any assassination attempts on him since the beginning of his rule. The Imperatus was popular among the common-born and respected by the nobles. Brenn would not have to rule the Keirian Empire for a long time.  

DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! DING-DONG! 

Brenn knew what that sequence of bell ringing meant. A royal had been killed or found dead, or a royal had been born. And as far as Brenn was aware, the royal consort, Norran's mother, was not with child. It could only mean one thing. Kaido had been killed.

Brenn jumped out of his seat and ran out of the library. He sprinted in the direction of his brother's chambers. They had finally done it. All the assassination attempts against Kaido had finally succeeded. His brother was dead; Brenn was sure of it. 

His sprint was halted by the sight of his other brother by a different mother, Norran, walking in the opposite direction. It was not as much the sight of Norran that gave Brenn pause, but the state of him. Tears ran down his cheeks, and he looked frightened. It would be less unseemly to see the sky falling.  

"What... what's wrong, Norran?"

"He's dead," said Norran, flatly. 

"Kaido?"

Norran's expression suddenly changed, and he looked at Brenn like he had just sworn at him. 

"No, you fool," Norran barked. "Someone actually important died. Our father, he's dead." 

                                                                                    ***

Brenn did not dream. But from what he had read of dreaming, this day certainly felt like one. He could vaguely remember seeing his father's corpse in the stables. Everything that was said to him, in consolation or otherwise, felt distant and unimportant, like none of it was real. 

His tears were still real. The pain he felt was real. He did not remember his mother well enough to remember when she died. What a blessing that was. Brenn could not have survived feeling this way twice. 

The door of Brenn's room opened, and someone came in, walking with crutches. The prince ignored the person. He did not care when he began speaking. There was something there about Brenn's coronation. It did not matter. What finally brought Brenn into the conversation was the mention of his twin's name. 

"Kaido?" Brenn shot up. "Where is he? Have they found him? Is he alive?"

The man before him was Xaine Xora, the castle steward. He had been missing all day along with Kaido. Maybe they had both returned together from wherever they went.    

"Ah, I finally have your attention," said the steward. "Good. The coming days are going to be some of the most consequential in the history of the Keirian Empire, and therefore, the entire world. There are some hard truths you must learn and act in accordance with for the sake of the Empire. I know this is a tragic day for you, but I need you to be focused."

"Where is my brother?"  

"He's with members of the Reige Rebellion, or at least I hope he is."

Brenn sat back down on his chair.  "So he was kidnapped by the Reige Rebellion? Was Yarrick a part of it all, including the death of my father? Have they demanded a ransom?"

"No, my Prince," sighed the steward. "It was I who kidnapped your younger brother, in a fashion. Remember I said we would discuss hard truths?"

The truths the steward told were harder than Pesheya steel and cut deeper than edged-light. Kaido was a Skarred person. Kaido had killed their father in self-defence. Kaido and Brenn were not the sons of the Imperatus, but the sons of Yarrick the Blight. Their mother was probably alive, and a leader among the rebels in her home province in Muva.

The more the steward explained, the more sense his claims made. Especially after he explained why he knew all these things.   

"You are posing as a spy for the Reige Rebels, but you are really spying on the rebels for the Empire?" asked Brenn. 

"Yes, my Prince," said the steward. "Until now, I have found it hard to gain their trust completely. But today's events have been instrumental in getting me closer to the Rebels. Their main spy in the castle was finally forced to reveal themselves to me to get your brother out of the capital. It was the head maid, Serra."

"Serra?"  

"Yes, surprising. I was shocked too when she came to me and said the code words I was taught to recognise the other spies of the rebellion. But when I found out that the Skarred I was to help escape from the castle was actually Prince Kaido and I saw those orange marks on his skin, everything began to fall into place."

Brenn could feel the axis of the world spinning him around like a top. In the same instance, he felt grounded, yet everything spun out of control. And through all of it, Brenn was helpless. 

"If I am the bastard son of two traitors to the Empire and the brother of a Skarred person, why am I being trusted with secrets of the state?" asked Brenn. " Why aren't you sharing all this information with Norran? He's Zerre's true-born son and the rightful heir based on what you've said. So why are you here with me?"

"Brenn," said Xaine, "do you remember the first line of the oath my great ancestor made to Nawn Challas II?"

The era of Keiria before it became an empire was always the most interesting part of the history for the prince. One of the more curious parts of the history was how the Xaine Clan, an exiled house from a far eastern nation that was swallowed by the Volcanic Waste centuries ago, became vassals of the House Challas'. It was one of the more intriguing parts of the historical accounts on Nawn Challas II.

"I will strive to preserve your name and your legacy," Brenn quoted. 

"Yes, my Prince," Xaine said excitedly. "Name. Legacy. Not blood. Not family. The name: Challas. The Empire that Iliand the Great built. That's what's important. Zerre and his forebears were not even blood-related to Nawn II. Nawn's sons all died in the Battle of Abbeon. The throne passed to his adopted son, Piqo the Wise, the true ancestor of the current House Challas. I need you to be like Piqo. The Last Empire needs you to be like Piqo. The Empire does not need another warrior like Zerre, Kaido or Norran."

"But... we are at war," said Brenn. "Ash Beast attacks are ravaging the border provinces. For the first time since the Iliand the Great, there is a nation on the mainland that acts independently of the Keirian thrones' will. How are the people supposed to look towards someone like me to lead them through all this strife? Wouldn't someone brave and heroic like Norran be ideal? What can I offer?" 

"It was Zerre's heroism that brought the nation to the disaster it's confronting now!" yelled Xaine. The sudden change in his tone took the prince aback. Xaine Xoro is not one to raise his voice, even in the most stressful of circumstances.

"Zerre's desire to avenge your mother led him to overcommit to the military campaign in Muva. Against my advice, he compelled the other nations to contribute to the force meant to retake Muva. This decision weakened the border provinces' military defences significantly. That led to more Ash Beasts entering from the Volcanic Waste. This led to a decrease in trade between provinces because of frequent Ash Beast attacks. Which increased famines and decreased tax revenue... 

The steward let out a sigh. He seemed exhausted by the conversation itself, among other things. He reached over to the table near him and took the wine from it, drinking straight from its container. After drinking his fill, placed the container down at his feet and returned his attention to Brenn, his eyes expectant.

"I know Keirians say: 'History is written with the end of a blade,'" Xaine continued, "but not enough thought is put into what is written with the blade. You, Prince Brenn, are a thinker. A listener. Not quick to anger like Kaido. Not hungry for glory like Norran. You can be the realm's salvation. Are you ready to answer the call Piqo did? Or are you satisfied with reading history rather than being a part of it?"  

Everything Brenn had understood about himself and the world had been disproven in the space of a conversation. He was wrong about who his father was. He was wrong about the state of the empire. He was wrong about what the realm needed. 

Maybe he was wrong about himself too. Perhaps he was more than the runt of House Challas. And the path that lay before him could lead to the realm's salvation. He recalled the words that Piqo said when he accepted his nomination to inherit Keiria. He spoke the words as though they were his own. 

"I will rise to more than the throne, but to greatness itself, but I will need your help, Xaine."