Hey, readers! It's been about a month since I lost updated The Silver Prophecy, and I'm sorry for the delay. Right when I decided to start this series, my mother got a tiny kitten that had been rejected by her mother, and taking care of her had been quite the task. She still needs plenty of care, of course, but she's doing a lot of things on her own now, like using the litter box! I miss her being smaller than my palm, but I've loved the journey of taking care of the little thing.

Anyway, on to the early preview of next chapter of the story! We slip into Brinthor's perspective for this one! I hope you enjoy it!

You can read both the first chapter and the second chapter here, if you need or want to read them there, but I'll add the second chapter right at the end of this email!

Chapter Two

-Brinthor-

-Several Hours Ago-

Brin's rear end was sore from the many days spending multiple hours inside a rocking carriage. The carriage hit a bump, aggravating a sore spot in his thigh, and he held back a sigh. He was glad he had chosen to go without his armor. The added weight would have made the whole trip more annoying.

A soft but musical laugh drew his attention, and he turned, finding his sister grinning at him. Libaya was already done up for the upcoming feast in celebration of Prince Saeward, the offspring of one of their dumbest enemies. Her perfumes filled the carriage with a strong mountain flower scent, and it was a miracle he had not yet gotten a headache from it.

"Your face," Libaya said, still laughing. "You must be as sick as I feel of all this travel."

"The roads here are somehow worse than they are back home," Brin said, "despite all the money the King claims he has."

"And the resources he's blocked and even stolen from us, yes."

"Yet Father insisted we must come here."

"The Chosen Prince celebrations are the one time the world can collectively decide to get along. It's a rule we've not broken in centuries. The effects of Pilgrimages of Prophecy on the world are obvious, and if any of us messes it up, we're all doomed."

Brin sighed.

"Yes, yes," he said, "the World's Shield is very important, I understand, but a king forcing his children to play nice with their enemies in their homes is nonsensical."

"True," she said, "but it wasn't Father's idea. It was mine. His illness was the perfect excuse to get what I wanted."

"Yours?"

"Don't tell me it isn't exciting to get a closer look at the capital of Stral. Besides, it's not like either of us are important enough to Father to start a political incident should either of us die here."

"Anyone could become a martyr if it presents the perfect opportunity to excuse violence."

Libaya hummed.

"I suppose that's true," she said. "Father did use a foot soldier as an excuse to tamp down a small rebellion."

Brin held back a grimace. He recalled that day. The rivers of blood staining the earth would never leave him for as long as he lived.

They fell into silence as the carriage took them the last mile to Castle Moore. Brin watched the scenery turn from forest and farms to the city. Hand-painted banners hung all over rickety homes and shops. A university had erected an enormous statue of Prince Saeward in ornate armor. Everyone stood around staring at every carriage who passed, trying to get a good glimpse of the royalty inside them.

Brin mulled over what Libaya had said. A part of him wondered whether Libaya had asked to come to Stral because of him. She would never admit to asking their father for anything on his behalf because he would have begged her not to trouble herself over him. She had let Brin believe it had been her father's idea until it was too late to turn back around.

Their carriage slowed, and Brin looked out the window. Castle Moore loomed over them. The portcullis was a wide-open maw ahead of them. Archers were specks in the towers, but they had a duty to protect all royalty from the peasants milling about the city and not attack them. Large men in full-plate armor stood around the perimeter to intimate everyone into behaving. People in leather armor stood around as both protection and to assist royals as they rode up to the castle.

"Quite a large castle, isn't it?" Libaya said, speaking quite low to keep the conversation only between the two of them. "I knew it was among the largest in the realm, but I couldn't imagine this."

Brin only hummed. His body tensed as soldiers in leather armor approached their carriage. He held no obvious weapon on him, but royalty kept what few divine magicians they could find near them. As the only divine magician who had come with Libaya, Brin was all too aware of the hidden dangers of a magically inclined warrior.

The soldier spoke in his ancient, guttural mother tongue:

"I'm sorry, sir, but we must take your carriage to a nearby stable. I'm afraid we've already run out of room inside."

Their driver, Dalan, sputtered out an answer:

"I'm sorry? My Stralian isn't very good. Could you repeat yourself, sir?"

The soldier huffed. Libaya snorted. Brin sighed.

Brin leaned himself out of the window of the carriage.

"Forgive him," he said. "He had me as his tutor, and I've always been a miserable teacher. Which stable would you like us to go?"

The soldier gave them half-coherent directions to where a nearby stable would be.

"I understand your fears that your horses won't be properly cared for, Your Royal Highness," he said, "but the horses will be too stressed if we fit more of them inside the castle. You can have a lord knight's head if anything happens to them."

Brin had known that even one of the largest castles in the realm would not fit the hundreds of people who would feast and sleep in it for the night. It was why so few people could come per royal family, yet the thought of entrusting young Dalan and their cherished warhorses to Rihtaere servants only tightened his shoulders further.

Brin leaned further so he could see the boy with curly red hair sitting on the front of the carriage. Dalan's eyes were wide, but he gave Brin a wobbly smile.

Brin spoke in the Troyan language:

"Don't forget the knife I gave you."

"Of course, Your Highness," Dalan said.

Brin fought back a flinch at the title, but he was certain Dalan was too nervous to remember they were too familiar for such titles. He was about to be alone in an unfamiliar place with people who would not hesitate to kill him under different circumstances, and Brin wished he could have talked Dalan out of coming with them.

"And remember the horses aren't worth your life if they or you are ever in danger," Brin said.

"Only protect myself or Her Royal Highness," Dalan said. "I understand, Your Highness."

Brin nodded. He turned back to the Stralian soldier, who had rather dark circles under his eyes. He apologized to the soldier, who gave a slight bow while gesturing inside the castle.

Brin climbed out of the carriage, and then he assisted Libaya out as well, helping her hold up her dress to avoid getting dirt on it. Two bodyguards jumped off the back of the carriage to join Brin in protecting Libaya. She took a moment to check the antlers in her hair before she nodded her approval.

The Stralian soldier guided them past the portcullis and into the courtyard. There was a clear path of enormous bouquets in stone basins the soldier instructed them to follow. Some other royal entourages followed it, taking their time as they took in the size of Castle Moore. It only became more intimidating as they walked closer.

Libaya plucked one pale blue flower from one of the bouquets. It resembled an azalea, but Brin had never heard of them coming in such a color. She took a moment to examine it.

"Perhaps you shouldn't steal from the royal bouquets, Your Highness," Brin said, though amusement seeped into his tone.

Libaya gave a musical laugh.

"If the King or Queen is petty enough to start trouble over a single flower," she said, "then, perhaps they deserve a war."

Libaya motioned for them to stop, and Brin did with a sigh. She tucked the flower into a flame pin over his left breast. One of the guards with them coughed, but Brin ignored him.

"I'm sure no one will notice this flower that clashes with my outfit," Brin said.

Libaya pinched his cheek before she drew away.

"We've been traveling for weeks," she said. "I thought you could use a touch of a pleasant fragrance."

They continued their walk through the courtyard. Muffled chatter flowed from a large set of steel-reinforced doors. Soldiers worked together to open the heavy doors, exposing the throne room that had been repurposed to make more room for feasting. A dozen massive tables were covered with enough food to feed the city. The emptiest table held the king and queen with a couple of knights decorated with gold and their children, except for Prince Saeward.

Brin had never met any of the Rihtaere royalty, but there had been plenty of drawn portraits shared throughout the realm of not only Saeward but his chosen bodyguards.

The bodyguards were missing as well.

An attendant wearing Stralian's favorite red color ushered them to one of the few remaining open spots at a table. It put their backs to a window, which meant Brin could not relax a bit. No one around them has food on their plates or drink in their cups, and he assumed it was everyone trying to be polite as they waited for the guest of honor to arrive. Although there were some royals dressed in rather elaborate costumes sneaking a grape or two into their mouths.

Libaya was no better as she cut off a piece of cheese from a nearby wedge.

"Gods," she said, "how long are we going to have to wait for this Chosen Prince to arrive? It's been hours since we ate, hasn't it?"

"We arrived a tad late, thanks to us doing up your hair," Brin said.

One of their accompanying guards snorted. Libaya gave a sarcastic laugh, but she fell into silence as she focused on sneaking food not only into her mouth but also the hands of her other guards.

Brin focused his ears on the conversations around them, listening as they bragged about this or that being more impressive than something the Kingdom of Stral had. To keep himself awake, he forced his thoughts toward the low buzz in his chest, a feeling it was easily forgotten. He willed more energy into it, and the buzzing spread in his chest. It flowed down his arm like cool water on his skin. As he willed that energy to extend out of him, real water formed above his palm, and he guided it into a sphere. As he wriggled his fingers, the surface of the water rippled.

Libaya reached over and rested her hand over his wrist.

"Don't look now," she said, "but you have an admirer."

Brin glanced up, and to his surprise, an elven woman watched him through wide eyes. She wore a dark blue dress that looked quite heavy. Her dark drown hair had been braided, and a flower crown adorned her head. Her shoulders were broad with muscle. Standing rather intimately close was an elven man wearing all pale colors that matched his eyes exactly. He took in the people around them while the woman stared at the sphere of water hovering above my hand.

All the royals had gotten portraits of the Chosen Prince Saeward so they could recognize him as he embarked on his pilgrimage, but they had also received portraits of his Chosen Guards. The woman was Aiwin, one of Prince Saeward's Chosen Guards. The artist responsible for making them had captured them well enough, but he had left out many freckles and scars that were difficult to hide even under a layer of makeup.

Brin dipped his fingers into the sphere, and he flicked it toward Libaya, who flinched with a giggle. He sent his sphere into a nearby cup.

"Tease," Brin said.

"But she was so enamored with you," Libaya said, pouting even as a smile danced on her lips.

"She's unused to her royalty having magic. I'm sure it was quite a shock for her."

There was a text somewhere in Brin's father study that accused of Saeward being a possible illegitimate son because he was the first in several generations with any divine magic, which would have disqualified him from the prophecy. It was speculation believed to have been born from jealousy, leaving out that Saeward's maternal side of the family had many members with healing magic.

King Lucius used to rant about it during his many drunken ramblings.

Brin looked around the room, wondering if there was anyone who might have had something to say about two elves walking through the throne room dressed in finery just as beautiful as their own. Most people did little more than stare at them a bit. When he looked back at them, Aiwin was looking at him again. She flinched, and she turned back to Marnan.

For the first time, he could make out her voice under all the chatter. She said:

"Perhaps we should sit."

Marnan nodded. He lifted his hand to touch Aiwin's arm, but he dropped his arms to his sides while his face reddened. His eyes darted about the room for a second, but he missed the one person who had seen it for sure, keeping his attention on King Lewis and Helene.

Aiwin giggled, and she ushered them toward the King and Queen's table.

Libaya leaned toward Brin.

"Secret lovers, perhaps?" she asked. "Why would they have to keep it a secret?"

"I'm sure being the only two elves in the royal court has its complications," Brin said.

"The only? I suppose elves have been oddly absent in this kingdom since we entered it."

Brin only had time to hum in answer before a voice shouted over the crowd:

"Everyone! Please stand in honor of our Chosen Prince Saeward of House Rihtaere!"

Brin snapped his attention toward the voice. A man stood near one of the doors behind where the throne would be on a normal day. He wore similar robes to the King, likely because he was the sole heir to the throne after his older brother had been Chosen to save the world. Finn was his name.

A moment later, another man walked into the room. He was rather tall. Finn's head reached only his sternum. His clothes were made of red silks, matching the colors of many of the servants', clothes, but they were better tailored to his body, showing off the size of his physique. No matter how foolish Brin thought the Rihtaere family was, Prince Saeward certainly looked the part of a trained warrior.

Libaya leaned toward me.

"Oh, my," she said, keeping her voice at a mere whisper. "Are these people descended from orcs? He looks bigger than even you."

Brin got out a few chuckles before he could disguise his amusement with a cough.

"And a man like him was blessed with Divine Healing," Libaya said.

Everyone else in the room stood, including his mother and father, and they bowed, a rare show of respect from royalty toward other royalty. Brin and Libaya followed suit. No matter the history between their kingdoms, embarking on the Divine Pilgrimage was a task even Brin would hesitate to do for the entire world.

Brin looked up in time to catch Prince Saeward stiffen. His eyes looked to the ground. His hands went to his sides as if he had been trained not to fidget, which had also been trained out of himself.

Everyone straightened, but they remained standing. Saeward's face reddened, and he bowed more deeply than proper etiquette dictated.

"Thank you," Saeward said, voice not quite as deep Brin had expected from someone so large and important. "I am grateful for everyone here. I'm honored for your faith in me. I hope to never disappoint any of you."

Saeward straightened. The king did not allow silence to fall over them as he announced for the feast to begin. Aiwin motioned for Saeward to join her at the table, and he went to her side without a moment of hesitation. He sat down, and everyone in the room took their seats again, relieved they could enjoy the food without looking rude.

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