Chapter Text
"Open the gates!" Lorian called out as he approached the high wall. The sun was just beginning to set, but there was still daylight yet, which meant the gates should have been open already to allow free passage into the castle walls. The knight manning the gate seemed startled upon noticing him but quickly announced Lorian's arrival and called out for the others to begin opening the gate.
Slowly the massive double doors began to creak open and Lorian wasted no time riding through them. Where normally he was met with bustling streets as the traders began to close their shops and the workers headed home, instead Lorian was met with a ghost town. The only signs of life were the knights on patrol, more than Lorian had ever seen.
Everything about the situation made Lorian uneasy; he had only been gone a few months this time and had heard nothing in his journey back indicating something was amiss. He spurred his horse on faster towards the Keep, certain he would find his answers there.
The barracks were the first place he went after dismounting his horse, and even it was as lifeless as the rest of the castle. He expected to see knights and recruits training or relaxing between their shifts, but instead the only knights Lorian saw were the ones who were in the middle of their shift change. They looked exhausted, feet trudging as they took off their helmets; one of the knight recruits leaned into the recruit beside her, bags under their eyes. When she saw Lorian it seemed to wake her up if only slightly as she elbowed the man and whispered something to him.
"You there, wait," Lorian called out to them.
The two recruits stopped, posture shifting taller and straighter as they waited for him to approach. The woman addressed him first, "Your Highness?"
"Knight General Godwyn, I need to speak with him. Is he here?"
"No, my Lord," the man replied. "He and the other Pillars have been summoned by the King."
"They should be in the Keep," the woman offered.
If they were in the Keep at Oceiros's command, Lorian knew exactly where they would be found. It was a short walk and yet it felt like an eternity as Lorian was met with averted stares and hushed conversations as he passed through the halls. He forced himself to stand up straighter, rolling his shoulders back, trying to appear more confident than he felt. The brass armor he wore still felt foreign to him; though he had been wearing it for some time now, he still felt an imposter in it.
Lorian took a moment to compose himself before reaching out to the council chamber doors, bracing himself for whatever news awaited him within. The muffled conversations happening within became clear as he opened the door.
"It has already been two weeks, Your Grace," Knight General Godwyn said, scrubbing a hand down his face in exhaustion. "If he were still within the castle walls, we would have found him by now."
At the head of the table, his father was livid, slamming a hand down on the table and snarling at Godwyn and Gotthard, "It was your duty to ensure his safety, the both of you!"
Lorian's blood ran cold at the statement, but he could not bring himself to interrupt them to confirm his suspicions, only able to listen numbly as he watched the conversation unfold.
"I assure you my hunters have scoured the castle grounds looking for him–" Black Hand Gotthard began to try and explain.
"As if I trust their competency now when you have still failed to explain how they lost track of him in the first place."
The queen, never one to anger quickly herself, placed a hand on his arm to calm him. But Lorian had never seen her expression so stiff, her usual smile gone. "And what of outside the castle? If he is no longer here then we must consider the alternatives. What leads are being pursued?"
"I have sent word to the Cathedral," Emma said, "as well as all the other churches in the nearby regions. If he appears at any of them we will know."
Head Scholar Wulfred cleared his throat as he pulled a rolled up piece of parchment out and slid it across the table to the King and Queen. "Likewise, I have contacted the neighboring allied kingdoms and they have assured me that they will contact us if he is seen."
"The Knight General and I have partnered together to enhance patrols and reconnaissance to surveille the hostile regions," Gotthard said solemnly.
Godwyn perked up at the mention of his work, his exhaustion temporarily forgotten as he leaned forward with a false bravado, "If this was an act of war, rest assured Your Grace, we will not rest until we have met the aggressors on the field of battle."
Lorian stepped further into the room and finally the others seemed to take notice of his presence. It felt surreal to even need to ask the question, the one assured constant in his life, suddenly gone. "Where is Lothric?"
It was Gotthard that was brave enough to answer him. "We do not know, my Lord."
"What happened?"
Oceiros did not answer him directly, instead letting out a deep contemplative rumble as he stared at Lorian for a long moment. "Perhaps Lorian can be of assistance. Gotthard, take him to where Lothric was seen last and see to it that he is given all the details."
Gotthard rose from his seat at the table and bowed respectfully, "Yes, Your Grace."
Lorian followed the hunter out of the room, expecting that at any moment the man would tell him it was all a ruse or that he might wake from this dream. But he did not wake up. His legs carried him, trailing behind Gotthard as he walked through the halls, seemingly observing Lorian with a barely concealed expression of remorse.
"Forgive me, my Lord. We wished to contact you sooner, but you were traveling alone and my hunters were otherwise occupied with the search. By the time we learned of your location you had already moved on."
"What happened to him, Gotthard?"
"I cannot be certain of anything given the circumstances, but," Gotthard sighed, slowing his pace and lowering his voice, "all I know is that when Prince Lothric disappeared it was without being seen by his assigned hunters. Which means one of two things: either he left of his own volition, or he was taken by someone skilled enough that they left no trace behind."
Lorian compartmentalized his feelings on the matter, setting them aside someplace deep within. It would not do any good to act irrationally now. "Have you found anything to suggest one over the other?"
"It is all speculative at best I'm afraid." Gotthard pushed open the door to Lothric's study. "His poor health would pose a significant challenge to any attempts to leave on his own, compounded by the fact that he would have easily been recognized and spotted trying to leave the castle grounds. On the other hand, there is no sign of any struggle and no reports of any disturbances at our borders or other acts of aggression."
Lorian stopped in the doorway, looking around the all too familiar study. He and Lothric had met here often in the past few years after his brother had been expected to take on more responsibilities within the kingdom, the same as Lorian. At a glance nothing seemed out of place; his desk was the same terrifying chaos of parchment, ink, and books that it always was. The bookshelves, likewise, were overflowing with tomes, some stacked around the room wherever they would be out of the way.
It was as Gotthard had said; there were no signs of a struggle.
"Was there anything of note happening at the time?" Lorian finally asked, taking a step into the room and feeling like an intruder – it was the first time he had been within it alone.
Gotthard stroked his chin in contemplation before answering, "Nothing out of the ordinary; however, I can pull my scout's reports if you believe there may be anything of note that may be of use."
"Please do," Lorian said as he moved around the side of Lothric's desk and set a hand on the edge. "I will be here."
"As you command," Gotthard said and exited the room.
Lorian was alone again, as he often was when he traveled, but as he rarely was within the castle walls. He half expected to hear the door open with Lothric chastising him for looking around the study without his permission. But now this study was the only place that may shed light or information on the situation and where Lothric may have gone.
There were two points of entry to the study: the main doors and the windows on the second floor balcony that were used by the hunters. Typically the stationed hunters watched the balcony while the posted knights on patrol were left in charge of the main doors - if there had been reports of neither, well, Lorian couldn't be sure what it meant.
He took a seat at Lothric's desk, trying to determine where in the strewn about parchment to start. Lothric had a system to his madness that Lorian recalled vaguely – the stack on the left side of the desk were letters or missives to be responded to, the right side was where they were discarded or the replies were placed until one of the servants came to pick them up.
In the center of the desk was a letter folded in half beneath a letter opener that Lorian picked up, hoping to glean some insight from the last letter his brother had been writing.
Your inquiry on this matter shall yield no results, the information deemed privileged with only one other permitted such knowledge - though even they may not be aware that they are privileged to it. In the event that they choose to follow up on this request independently, at that time I shall remind them that the information they seek remains within
Lorian frowned upon reading the letter, unable to decipher it. It was not signed or addressed to a particular recipient, though it seemed that may have been due to the fact that the letter remained incomplete as it trailed off, a blot of ink at the last letter. He began looking through the discarded notes next, searching for any that held context of such an inquiry only to find nothing before moving on to the unopened stack.
At the end Lorian's fingers were stiff and he had managed to find nothing of importance. The remaining letters had been inquiries about the upcoming harvest, people seeking Lothric's advice or words of wisdom regarding the First Flame, or political correspondence of no real substance.
He leaned back in the chair, looking around the room for anything at all that seemed out of place. The desk was ornate with impeccable craftsmanship, including a nearly concealed drawer tucked under the surface that Lorian had failed to notice at first. He assumed it only contained trivial items - letter openers, quills, ink - but then he caught sight of the lock. What would Lothric need to keep locked away, and more importantly, where would he have hidden the key?
Considering the desk was still just a desk no matter how ornate, Lorian decided Lothric would forgive him later as he pulled out a dagger and moved to slide it into the crack where the drawer met the top of the desk to force it open only for the blade to be stopped. Magic. Of course Lothric would have taken precautions against it being opened - it was no doubt why the hunters and others had not taken a look at the contents within. If they had even noticed it.
Lorian leaned in to get a closer look at the lock for some hint as to what the key would look like that he should be searching for. It barely even resembled a keyhole given how small it was, which already ruled out nearly every key in the castle that Lorian had ever seen.
He thought back on the unfinished letter that had been left atop the desk: only one other permitted such knowledge - though even they may not be aware that they are privileged to it. Had that actually been intended for someone to read and understand? For whoever had the key? But Lorian could think of no one that Lothric would have granted such a key to that wouldn't have already gone through his study.
Maybe it wasn't a key he was looking for at all. His gaze fell back on the letter opener that had been on top of the letter and realized it was the one from the spare desk, the same that Lorian used from time to time when he stole away into Lothric's study for a moment's peace.
The letter opener that Lothric always used he'd given to Lorian some time ago. Lorian had not thought on it much at the time beyond the gesture that it was. But there had been something in what he had said when he'd given it to Lorian, words that had haunted him ever since that caused him to pull it forth now.
Perhaps one day you may find a use for it – or perhaps it will serve only as a reminder of where to find me.
He felt only slightly foolish but boundlessly hopeful as he attempted to slide the dull platinum blade into the lock. To his surprise, not only did it fit, but Lorian was able to twist the letter opener and the lock clicked open, revealing the contents within.
As he assumed, the items he expected were contained within, but there was also a book along with more letters tucked away at the back of the drawer, the age and condition of the parchment of each of the letters varying. The oldest letter at the bottom of the stack was in the worst condition, the parchment several years old and worn from being handled, ripped into two pieces with the ink smudged and faded in places. Lorian took it carefully, placing each ripped half side by side as he began reading the hastily scrawled words.