Into the West

~The Palace Gardens, Sanc~


The gardens of the palace still lay in dormant slumber. The trees glittered and the grass shone silver, but it was silent, as silent as an old tomb.

Gliding along the decorative path, the boy thought that it was appropriate, considering. Between the plots of assassination and sibling rivalry over the crown, life had become very dangerous. He had no idea why everyone kept bothering him about the matter.
He was the youngest of the five brothers, as well as the least interested in the crown. But no matter what he did to stay out of trouble, there was always some new threat out to get him.

Kicking a pebble off the path, the young prince pulled a small jar out of his deep coat pocket.

Trapped inside the thick glass was an insect not much larger then his little finger. With its long poison-tipped tail and glistening blue-black body it was easy to identify it as a southern desert scorpion. Despite its lack of size it could easily have killed him if he had been stung.

He had found it on his bedroom floor last night.

It was not an uncommon method of assassination to use such deadly creatures. His family, even before they came to Arisis, had been using such methods for centuries to great success. What he wanted to know was who had placed it in his chambers without his knowledge.
Especially since the doors and windows had been barred with more then just iron locks.

Removing the cork that stopped the insect from escaping its glass prison, he tossed the creature into the bushes at the side of the path. If anyone was stung by it now, it was none of his concern, but it was unlikely it was live very long in the snow and ice.

The wind picked up, it was frigid and stung his exposed skin like the lash of a whip. Even with the fur-lined coat and thick winter clothing he had on it cut through him.

He hated winter, he had hated it since he was a child and had been taken out to camp at the edge of the Invoria Range with the army.
His father had thought it very funny when the little boy had run into his tent and pleaded to return to the capital and the warm weather. His pleads had fallen upon deaf ears and he had been punished for his so-called insubordination.

Only once after that experience had he gone against his father’s will.

Going against Ozoni was like signing your own execution warrant: something no sane person would ever consider doing.

Pushing the jar back into his pocket, the prince continued down the path until he reached the gardens central fountain.
Like crystal decorations, icicles hung from the urns as well as the water spirit statues who held them, the water long since frozen solid. Around the wide pool there were curved benches long enough for a man to lie upon comfortably.

Across from where he had just appeared and directly in the path he was heading, lounged a tall fair-haired figure dressed in black and red.

His brother. Othello.

Moving carefully forward, the young prince watched his elder brother out of the corner of his eye. The look on his face, unknown to Ariael, was similar to the look anyone else would have given an irritated poisonous snake that had fallen in their path.

It was not unjust. Othello deserved that sort of caution and more.

At the age of eighteen he had been given the title of General Kailas, the year before that he had been named First Swordmaster of Arisis.
Ariael had been told that several of the inner court had complained of favouritism to the king.

They had been silenced when Othello not only predicted the Andines final battle strategy, but also produced the plan that finally won them the war. If anyone had had any doubt over the young prince’s abilities the victory over the enemy made them vanish.

The rumour mill at court currently had Othello tied with their elder brother Pyriel, for the succession of the crown.

Stopping half way around the fountain the young prince stopped and looked in to the deep pool at its base.

“If you are looking for the fish, baby brother, they are on the other side of the pool,” Othello said softly.

Brushing his fringe out of his eyes, the younger prince glanced across as his brother rose and walked to the edge of the pool.

He looked tired, there were dark shadows beneath his pale blue eyes and his shoulder length hair was pushed back in knotted disarray. It was not uncommon to see Othello like this and somethimes worse, he had always preferred living out in the field rather then in the palace.

Ariael smiled slightly as he remembered a party several months ago. The soft candle light, the delicate music accompanied by the sea of graceful dancers and then the main doors burst open. Othello, covered from head to foot in mud walked down the steps to a food covered table, picked up a large hunk of meat and left.
The blond prince had destroyed the party atmosphere in less then a minute.

Slowly, Othello ran a gloved hand back through his thick mane of hair then tilting his head he looked fondly across at his younger sibling.

“I thought you might be hiding out here Ariael. I know about the scorpion…”

The younger prince nodded slightly, so that was what this was about. “How did you find out? I thought I left without anyone seeing me.”

“Baby brother, I have eyes and ears everywhere.”
Then, with a slight smile playing across his lips he softly added, “I saw you hurrying into the garden from my window. Then two of the guards informed me that you found something dangerous on your floor. I followed and saw you toss the scorpion into the bushes.”

Othello smiled slightly and shook his head, “If I were you, I would have just crushed it. It would never have occurred to me to place it in a jar and release it into the wilds of our garden. Although I’d hate to think how much someone paid for it and here you go and set it loose.” The general smiled brightly and then began to laugh.

Ariael stood silently and watched his brother until he had calmed.
Walking around to the far side of the pool, the younger prince looked down into the frozen water at the dead fish. He felt almost guilty for their deaths, he knew he should have removed them from the fountain before the weather became bitter, but it was too late now.

“You are not upset about the fish, are you baby brother?”

From the corner of his eye, Ariael saw Othello move towards him, the taller prince stopped just outside of touching distance and remained silent.

He shook his head, “Not really Othello, they’re just dumb fish after all.”

The general’s white-blue eyes narrowed mockingly, “If that is so, then why is it baby brother, that you look ready to cry?”

Blood rushed to Aziael’s cheeks in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. Without knowing it, his court mask must have slipped. It had been a long time since anyone could so easily read his emotions.

“What the hell does that mean Othello? Do you think that I’m so weak that I’d cry over some dead fish!”

“It is not that my brother,” said Othello as he took another step forwards and turned his younger sibling to face him.

“I know just how strong you really are, but then so too do our brothers and their supporters. I know that you have no cares for matters of state, nor indeed do I. But we both find ourselves in the middle of one large political mess because we were born princes.
I know that you have been wondering about the constant assassination attempts on your life, and to be quite honest, I’m surprised you have not figured the answer out yet. It is so very simple Ariael: you show no favour to anyone.
Our brother’s supporters have finally decided that if you are not their ally then you could be their enemy, either way you are a threat because you are of royal blood. That is how the game is played baby brother.
And you shall have to start being more careful of your actions and what you say to people. I don’t want to see you killed over something you don’t give a damn about.”

Othello gave his brother a small shake before smiling widely and adding, “Besides, I’d hate to loose my favourite sparing dummy to silly court games.”

For a long moment Ariael stared at Othello in disbelief.
Of all the things the general could have come to him about, this had not really been on his list. He had never thought Othello gave his well being much attention, but what he had just said told Ariael the opposite.

Finally, the younger prince nodded once, then he gave Othello a look of irritation to cover the surprise had felt. “‘Sparing dummy’?”

Chuckling, Othello nodded, “Sparing dummy. The best one I’ve had in years might I add.”

Cocking a silvery eyebrow the younger prince muttered, “I’ll show you ‘sparing dummy’ next time we practice together, Othello.”

“And I shall look forward to it, baby brother,” Othello said smiling sweetly. “Oh, by the way. Our dear old father expects us to be ready for the trip to the temple by the sounding of the last bell. That means clean, dressed and mounted, baby brother. I suggest you hurry.”

“I could say the same thing to you Othello, I haven’t seen you this untidy since you came back from visiting the Lord of Naxel.”
Pulling away, Aziael began to walk back to the palace. When he reached the garden gates he looked back at his brother who was casually following him at a distance.
Othello was just outside of touching distance when Aziael finally added, “And stop calling me ‘baby brother’.”

A wide grin appeared on the elder prince’s face as he stopped and put his hands in his pockets, “But you are my baby brother! What else am I supposed to call you?”
The grin widened even more as he slowly came up beside Aziael, “I could always just call you ‘sparing dummy’. Would that be more to your liking?”

For a heartbeat Aziael glared at him, then muttering a string of obscenities under his breath he marched through the palace doors with the sound of Othello’s laughter ringing in his ears.