Royal Doubts

Flanked by two armored soldiers, a middle-aged man strode towards Whitewind and Tyler with supreme dignity. Tyler didn't need to see the elaborate golden crown or scepter to know that this was the king of...wherever the hell he was.

Ah, so he's going to be that kind of king. Tyler thought, fear and disappointment warring in him.

The fear was due to the fact that if the king was set against him, his odds of survival felt drastically low. Prophecies and deeply held beliefs were dangerous to those who did not fit their molds. The disappointment was due to his first impression of the king.  Here Tyler was, in some new fantastical and magical world, and it seemed power still corrupted.

I don't know why I would expect differently.  Tyler just wished it could be different, didn't everyone? A childish wish, his world didn't work like that, why would this one?

Archmagus Whitewind's mouth drew into line as he tersely responded to the king.

"Your Grace, our Champion assures me that he can more than handle the threat to the Kingdom." Whitewind said smoothly.

"We shall see. You, boy," The king pointed at Tyler, "what do you call yourself?"

"I am no boy, man." Tyler heard himself saying before he could think. There was more edge and heat in his tone than he expected.

Antagonize the king, splendid move, idiot.  Tyler thought, his mind catching up to his words.

The king only gave Tyler an appraising look, but one of his guards stepped forward, hand resting on the hilt of the sword at his hip.

"Watch your tongue! You will show deference and respect when speaking to His Grace, King Aravar, Supreme Ruler of Velmaria, Lord of the Five Crowns, Defender of Titan's T....."

Tyler purposely tuned out what the guard was saying, practicing that selective hearing his mother always accused him of having.  He didn't care for this man's titles.

When the guard finished talking, Tyler looked into King Aravar's eyes.

"My name is Tyler." He said simply.

A brief look of confusion crossed Aravar's face. "Tiler? What is that, your family name?" The king said, then looked towards the Archmagus. 

"Do not tell me you spent all of this time and money summoning a laborer who sets tiles." Aravar said the last word with a palpable disdain, looking towards the floor.

Tyler followed his gaze, to the tiles at their feet. They were gleaming white marble, veined in gold like the surrounding pillars. The tiles also gave off a magical glow. In the back of his mind, behind all the fear and irritation, Tyler spared a thought of appreciation for whoever did lay these tiles.

Archmagus Whitewind looked aghast. "Surely not, Your Grace. I am certain the spell went perfectly." But the Archmagus still looked at Tyler, as if for confirmation.

"Forgive me, Your... Grace," Tyler hated speaking the words, but he had to start playing nice if he was going to come out of this uncrucified, or whatever these people did to those they wanted to make suffer.

"Tyler is a moniker I have adopted as a jest, it makes my retainers laugh at times, and I am always looking to improve morale."

Damn, shouldn't have mentioned the non-existent retainers. Frantically, Tyler tried to think of a fake name to give before Aravar noticed the distinct lack of such retainers.

"My true name is... Tiberius Dawnbreaker" Tyler announced.

What? Why that? Tyler quickly analyzed his frantic decision making. Tiberius because it seemed close enough to Tyler but sounded more dignified. Dawnbreaker because it was the first thing he thought of as he looked around and saw what he assumed were the banners of the Kingdom of Velmaria. They were relatively simple, but still regal, a golden sunburst on a plain dark blue field.

Of course, they're glowing too.  Tyler thought with an internal sigh.

King Aravar's look never changed, but Whitewind appeared relieved. Tyler suspected that the Archmagus was on thin ice with the king.

"Tiberius Dawnbreaker." The king chewed over the name, "It'll do. But there's more to fighting a war than a fancy name" He finished dismissively.

It'll do?  Fancy name?  From the guy with a dozen titles?  Who does this guy think- Wait, did he say fighting a war?

As Tyler was about to ask about the "fighting a war" part, they were joined by a new person, and the question died on Tyler's lips at the sight of her.

Glossy black hair framed a face that Tyler could only think of as immaculate.

Wow, she's pretty.  Tyler had a brief moment of horror that he might have said that out loud, but was relieved that he was only thinking it very loudly.

For the first time since meeting him, Tyler saw King Aravar smile.

"Ah, daughter, as you know, this is our...Champion," Aravar waved lazily at Tyler, "He is known as Tiberius Dawnbreaker."

Daughter?  But then that would make her a princess, right?  Tyler could easily believe that from looking at her face.  He didn't think there was a single blemish on it.  But she wasn't dressed like a princess.

At least she wasn't dressed like her father, or many of the other nobles.  She wore an elaborate robe and cloak, fastened with gold chains.  It looked like a fancier version of what Archmagus Whitewind was wearing, but where his outfit made him look merely capable, her outfit made her appear radiant without ostentation.

"Greetings Lord Dawnbreaker," The Princess said, extending a hand, palm down, "I am Princess Salera. It is an honor to meet our Champion."

If Tyler hadn't been practicing keeping a calm face this whole time, he might have completely fumbled this interaction. He wasn't always great at speaking to women, never when they were this attractive. A fact that was immediately proven.

As soon as he took Salera's hand, all he could think was how soft it was. Then he realized he had no idea what to do.

Do I kiss the hand?  I can't just shake it can I?  Kissing the hand seemed like the thing to do with a princess in a grand hall, but he didn't know how things worked here and he didn't want to lower Aravar's opinion of him further by overstepping bounds.

Ultimately, the decision was taken from Tyler as Salera gave his hand a quick squeeze and performed a small curtsy before letting go.

Tyler looked towards the king, afraid that if he kept gazing at Salera, they would begin to think he was staring.  Which he was.

Aravar himself was looking at his daughter, his face the picture of a proud father.

"My Salera had just attained the position of High Magus, and her power was integral to summoning you here, Tiberius." The king said.

"Indeed it was," Archmagus Whitewind added, "and it was not only her power but her intellect. She did the majority of the required research and formed most of the spell scripts herself."

Salera's face never changed from its pleasant expression, but Tyler noticed color rising in her cheeks at the praise.

"Yes, that ritual and the safety of our kingdom are very important to her." Aravar said, looking fondly at the princess. Then the king's eyes snapped towards Tyler and the ice in that gaze froze Tyler's blood.  "So I hope all her effort has not been...wasted."

It took almost all of Tyler's willpower to not gulp. He had to project confidence and competence.  Archmagus Whitewind spoke up.

"Your Grace, the Champion has only been here a short time, I am sure you will see the spell worked perfectly in time."

Salera was quick to jump in, noticing the mood of the conversation.

"He is right father, I understand your misgivings..."  The princess gave a quick look up and down at Tyler's pajamas, "...but we are certain we succeeded, it is inevitable that Lord Dawnbreaker will prove himself to y-"

"That's it!" Aravar interrupted, then gave a bark of a laugh, "You see right to the heart of it, as always, my daughter. Lord Dawnbreaker must prove himself..."

This was the second smile Tyler had seen on the king's face, but this time he was smiling at Tyler, and there was no warmth in that smile.

Princess Salera looked shocked, "Father, wait, I know you are misunderstanding me."

But Aravar had already turned away from his daughter, speaking to an attendant Tyler hadn't noticed arrive.  Archmagus Whitewind's face held a displeased expression, and Salera looked distraught.

King Aravar noticed Whitewind's displeasure, leaned towards the Archmagus and quietly spoke.

"This will not just be a test for him but for you as well, old friend. If I have wasted so much of my kingdom's wealth on your Society, only for you to fail me, there will be consequences."

The king suddenly swept his arms wide, facing the crowd of nobles too far to hear any of their conversation.

"My loyal friends! My devoted subjects!" Aravar bellowed, "I am afraid I must cut this feast short.  With the Champion Tiberius Dawnbreaker now here, we have pressing matters to attend to!"

There was a small silence, followed by incessant muttering, but the king continued.

"First among those matters is showing you the value of the Royal Magus Society and all they have done to bring peace and justice to our land and save us from the ravages of the Ferals!"

Tyler suddenly had a premonition of what was to come and looked away from the king to Salera and the Archmagus.  Whitewind was looking at the king with a pale face and an angry expression, while Salera was looking at Tyler.  Her face exuded an anxious worry.

"So, I invite all of you, to depart from this hall and head immediately to the Grand Stadium. Where our Champion will show you his great power as he stands against our best warriors in the Trial Yard!"

A raucous cheer came from the crowd and they quickly began to file out of the dining hall.

Tyler looked towards Princess Salera.

"What does that mean?" He asked, realizing it was actually the first time he had even spoken to her.

Real charmer, aren't you. Tyler chastised himself.

The princess looked at him, frustration and concern written plain on her face.

"You are about to fight my father's Royal Guard in front of all the nobles in the kingdom."

Ah. That's what I was afraid that meant.