Hedge Master and The Moonlight

“Coryn will wake, or he will forfeit.” Oswyn explained sternly.

“Then you’ve already made your decision.” Robin barked back. The old man sat up in his chair, his lips scrunched, and his hands against the desk balled up. “Excuse me?!”

“You heard me.” Robin fought. “You’re taking away an obstacle for the two people with the least obstacles. At least with Coryn competing we had a chance, what now? Do you think for one second I’ll be in there for anything more than a bug for them to squash?”

Kamau tried to pull Robin away, but he would not move. Oswyn grew annoyed and slammed his hands against his desk. Jumping to his feet as quick as a man half his age. “I believe you had equal chances to those blades. You are not in a game, Peasant Prince; you are in a fight. Scratch and claw an inch further and kill anyone that stands in your way! I have more love for that boy than his own father did! But this is what each of you signed up for, and if that means Aurelio or Arian wins, then it was what was meant to be!”

“They killed the King!” Robin screamed. The entire room fell silent. Guards stood on the other side of those doors, and further down were scholars and politicians and council members. Oswyn’s quiet suspicions were quiet for a reason. Should the wrong people hear such poisoned words, his head would have a new resting place atop a pike at the gates of Ignis. Oswyn’s face was flush; he gripped Robin’s collar and pulled him close.

“I told you what I did in confidence! The only thing I’m confident in now is how wrong I was.”

“Look me in the eye and tell me you don’t see it, Oswyn. Aurelio and Arian will do anything for that crown; they almost killed their brother just for a third of it. If you go ahead with the final trial, Arian or Aurelio will win, and we will all die.”

“Without proof, we have nothing. Do you know for certain which one killed him?” Oswyn asked. His question caught Robin off guard and he had no response for him, struggling to find the words to speak, but Oswyn beat him to it. “Thought not. Alden isn’t run by one man, Robin. For every insignificant little decision, there’s a meeting of the council, each of them chomping at the bit to get their own way. What do you suppose they would say if I had Aurelio thrown in a cell without a reason why?!” He asked again.

“You’re the most powerful man in the Kingdom, Oswyn. They HAVE to be loyal to you.”

“They are loyal to no one but themselves!” The old man bellowed. “I would be in a cell for the mere suggestion. Some would put me on the chopping block because the sky was blue. I will not risk my own neck over this.”

“I will do what I can for you, Robin. It won’t be much, but I will find a way to help.” He assured the young Prince.

“And Coryn?”

“If he wakes, he will compete. But if not... you are on your own.”

Oswyn had other matters to attend to and swiftly shunted the trio from his office, back to the Sparrow. They were still aboard the Kaminos, Robin stomping forward and his two friends behind. Tara’s head hung low, worrying for Robin but also for Coryn. While they were walking, she felt her shoulder knock off another, and quickly turned to apologise, but he was already past before she could. He wandered into Oswyn’s office, which seemed strange as ordinary soldiers would have no business with the Chancellor, certainly not at his most busy.

Was he really just an ordinary soldier? No…

She recognised him. Thick black hair falling down his face like seaweed on the sands, a dark iron armour with no sigil, no loyalty. He had two weapons at his side with no sheathe, revealing blood scarlet steel…

It was Redblade. Brakkan, Arian’s closest aide. Did Arian send him? She wondered. But almost instantly, it didn’t feel right. But if Arian hadn’t sent him… who did?

*-*-*

In the shallows, Oswyn awaited the contestants. Stood facing him, they were but only three. Robin looked over to the empty space beside Arian. He was truly alone now, a minnow amongst the crows. Alas, the show must go on.

“Azura’s trial tested resolve. Stormcaller’s tested your strength. The trial for Glimmer will test every fibre of your being. Like the second trial, you will find horrible creatures in the vines. Like the first trial, it will try to play with your mind.” Oswyn explained as the waves calmed. His arms hid behind his back, and he continued. “Built atop the largest of the isles sits a garden grown by a legend of Alden, Aspen Greenhand. Once considered the father of life, he was a gardener. He nurtured every blade of grass, and the spirits loved him for it. To this day, many of them gather in the secret gardens and sing songs of him.” He paused for a moment.

“Glimmer is much like Greenhand; it is beloved by nature... protected by it. In his last days in the gardens, Aspen wanted to hide away the beauty. He feared pirates or a drunken sailor would come across his sanctuary and rip it apart. So he threw up green walls. Easy to cut through they were, but Aspen was a skilled mage, and he imbued his power into the maze. You will not have the luxury of slicing a path to the end. But there will be things in there with you, things that aren’t accustomed to guests... and ever so unpleasant to intruders.”

The time for words was over; Oswyn had no need for more sentiment, and the heirs cared nothing for it either way. No one there gave a shit about legends or history; only the path ahead held meaning. And the ending of it all was fast approaching.

Cascading stars watched three heirs in four corners enter the maze. Robin took the left entrance on the far side while Aurelio and Arian picked the lower two. Arian peered into the maze, and staring back at him was the unsettling size of it. Darkness fell swiftly that day, and a thick miasma blanketed the maze floor. Only the stars illuminated the path; only the breeze whispered through the silence.

It felt as though the Cloud Splitter itself caught in the back of Robin’s throat. Even though the Isles were blessed by tropical warmth, he felt stone cold. Oswyn had told them the gardens feared the outsiders, yet the smell of it was sickly sweet, almost as to entice wanderers in, never to be seen again. This was a spider’s web with a broken strand hidden far away and a great, ghastly monster crawling amongst it. Silence was the song that evening, and the leaves swaying in the gentle breeze were the harpsichord playing an unsettling lullaby.

But once Oswyn called the beginning and the boys passed through the hedge arches, the vines began to move.