The Land Below our Feet III (Legacy)

SUBVERSIVE

Prince Kholut sat in the shadows replaying the outlandish chain of events that had somehow unleashed that disastrous morning in his still completely bewildered mind.

-Get me out of here! – His voice would yell, echoing around the musty walls of the underground dungeon from time to time, until he eventually ran out of conviction and became silent again, racking his brain trying to figure a way out.

It had all happened in such a fast blur that he was still trying to discern the whole meaning of that sudden mistreatment that he had suffered at the hands of his previously incredibly benevolent hosts.

But the only thing that was clear to him at this point was that something had gone terribly wrong from one day to the next, and that he was now experiencing the aftermath of it.

He had been so deeply asleep when the group of Xiblenean soldiers had mercilessly kicked his door open and barged into his room, that he had failed to register the severity of what he’d initially downplayed as an accidental intrusion while he groggily trashed around and fought to make sense of what was really going down there.

The shock of being rudely apprehended by the same crew of diligent warriors that had been obediently following his unit’s training and instructions for the past couple of weeks had felt so surreal and out of place at that moment, that he had been incapable of protesting their inexcusable behavior until his brain seemed to finally kickstart once they threw him into that cell and his back crashed harshly on the ground.

That’s when it had dawned on him that his captors had been wielding the same guns that he had been teaching them how to fire, and which they had no reason or even permission to carry so lightly around.

He’d spent some time trying to make sense of what had just happened to him and pondering a few scenarios that could justify the preposterous treatment that he had been the victim of, in a place where he never even wanted to be.

“Please, I don’t want to go to the swamps, Mother!” – “He had pleadingly complained the moment he was informed that he would be the one leading the unit to Xiblen – “What did I do to deserve such punishment? Why are you sending me to that damp hole to teach those soldiers a craft I just learned myself a minute ago?”

“Because that is still more than any of them know, my dear, and because it is a good thing that you spend some time away from home on your own” – Favena had told him, tenderly running a finger down his cheek – “Besides, you can use this opportunity to make friends with the prince”.

“The prince? Which prince? The one who hates my f*****g guts?” – The Nevarehan had bitterly puffed out, staring at the Durúita´s waves – “He hasn’t even deigned to look my way the entire time that we’ve been here, it’s like I don’t even exist!

“Oh, darling, I’m sure that is not the case…” – The Nevarehan regent had started saying, nervously chuckling as she raised a concerned eyebrow to the bearded man standing silently in the corner with crossed arms, but failing to get a reaction out of him.

“Don’t darling me, mother, you know perfectly well it is” – The teenager had angrily huffed – “So, what makes you think that everything is suddenly going to change when you send me over there to put a firearm in his hands? What will stop him from putting a bullet through my head then?”.

“You will, Son” – Polthan had finally muttered as his sole response, placing a large hand on his child’s shoulder, and patting it encouragingly – “Trust me. You are more than ready to do as you need if things go wrong”.

And they had… They had gone terribly wrong! Somewhere along the line he had ended up sitting in that smelly dungeon all alone. But whether he would be capable of living up to his father’s words or not, that was yet to be seen. First, he needed to figure out what exactly had happened and how to set himself free.

Kholut was perfectly aware of Prince Dahro´s poorly masked discontent towards his presence in Xiblen, and the privileged position that his guest was in.

It was more than evident that he strongly disagreed with the great amount of trust that his family had placed in him. After all, Dahro had spent most of his gun training either refusing to follow any of Kholut´s directions, making snide comments about him, or outright complaining about the pettiest of things.

“Is it true? What they say?” – The Xiblenean had asked him once, glancing at him with the most obvious contempt – “That your father is your mother’s lapdog and a filthy Cahenean defector?”

“Is it true? What people say?” – The Nevarehan had calmly replied, ignoring his venomous statement – "That your father was the biggest of traitors?"

“My father was a visionary and a conqueror!” – Dahro had offendedly retorted – “But you wouldn’t know what that is if it hit you in the face, you submissive b***h! I can tell that you always do as others say without even questioning it, just like the bootlickers that raised you!”

“You can’t be a conqueror if you don’t win, can you?” – Kholut had simply responded, tilting his head to the side, unfazed – All your father ever was in reality, was an entitled man that thought he deserved more lands, and because of that, he ended up neglecting the ones that he already had”.

Yes, alright, it was true that they didn't get along… But the fact that his peer was not exactly fond of him didn't necessarily mean that he was behind his imprisonment, did it?

The answer to that question would come to him a minute later when a loud turmoil was heard approaching from upstairs, and another hostage was promptly hauled into his cell.

A couple of soldiers had abruptly stormed in and savagely tossed what seemed like a large bundle inside, which had landed beside him with a heavy thud. Still, it was not until they had left, and he had heard the faint whimper that seemed to be coming from within the mess of crumpled clothes, that a gasp escaped his mouth when he fully realized what he was looking at.

-Q- Queen Yarinthza? – The youngster stammered as he rushed to aid the woman that had just risen from the ruffles of her disheveled gown – Is that you? W-What the hell is going on?

-He had a gun… My son! – The monarch cried out as she shakily stood up, cradling her head in despair with one hand while the other covered her mouth – He just attacked me in my own chambers and pointed it at my skull!

Those were the last discernible sentences that she was able to enunciate before the loud stream of wails that ensued made whatever she tried to say next impossible for Kholut to understand.

So, he simply went to a corner and gave her some space, till the heart-wrenching laments became sparser, and eventually, they stopped, leaving only a strange silence floating in the air.

They had been sitting like that, staring at each other for an insanely long time, when the Nevarehan finally gathered the nerves to try and break her from her self-pitiful trance.

-Listen… I get this is hard for you, but we need to escape out of here, Your Grace – He spoke in a purposefully soft tone. Starting to rummage around the tiny room, looking for something that he could possibly use.

-I know – The ruler sighed, rubbing her puffy red eyes, and giving him a resolute nod. Her hand reaching for her hair and extracting a very thin metallic pin from her straggly bun – And I wouldn’t be a true Xiblenean if I hadn’t a trick up my sleeve.

Dahro´s voice reverberated all around the main hall as they sneakily approached, crawling their way through a hidden tunnel that ran behind the assembled crowd.

-People of Xiblen! – He announced as Yarinthza and the Nevarehan prince carefully peeked through a small crack in the wall – I am saddened to say that my mother is momentarily… Indisposed.

As the young man spoke, Kholut strained his neck and his gaze soon stumbled upon his crew and a few members of the council standing behind the prince, in handcuffs.

He narrowed his eyes. Knowing that this was meant to be a clear deterrent to everyone that was considering going against the Xiblenean Prince's words.

-In the meantime, this is the perfect opportunity to retake what has always been ours, starting with those traitors down in the Wetlands – Dahro continued vehemently preaching while Kholut noticed the other young man standing by his side and recognized him immediately by his multiple facial scars.

-So, who’s with me? – The newly-claimed monarch defiantly shouted as the Xiblenean soldiers on his side stared menacingly aiming their rifles at the gathered people, which drove Kholut to let out a muffled curse – Or should I be asking who is against me?

A timid applause slowly rose from the still stunned audience and gradually evolved into a bolder cheer. But it had quickly turned into a passionate clamor by the time Kholut grabbed Yarinthza´s hand and quickly yanked her back as she was trying to stand up and emerge from their hideout.

-I’m sorry your Majesty, but I just can’t let you do that – He whispered into the queen's ear as she uselessly flailed her arms and tried to break from his tight grip while he covered her mouth with his palm – This is not a simple tantrum anymore, don’t you see? Your son has gone subversive... And you are going to need a lot more than a slap on the wrist if you really want to get this realm back!