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Aedion ran a gloved hand over his breastplate. The metal was faded and slightly bent. Aedion could tell when he got every scratch on it, sometimes it was the only thing that saved him from falling, but right now there was no sound in his mind. It was noisy all around - his fey ears allowed him to hear far more than he needed to - but all sounds came to him like through water.
Aedion gripped his horse's reins tighter in his hand and raised his eyes to the approaching bulk of the glass castle. Somewhere to his right, Kyllian rode his gelding, rows of soldiers marched behind him, and just ahead the cavalry carried Adarlan flags. The combination of gold and red made Aedion feel his nausea intensify. Kyllian cast an oblique glance at his pale face, but said nothing. Aedion was grateful for his silence.
He focused on the honour guard approaching them. The soldiers stood at the gate to Rifthold and watched the military detachment just as closely. Aedion inwardly braced himself in preparation for a thorough inspection and furtively tried to comb the tangles in his hair with his fingers.
More than a month ago, high in the Staghorns Mountain, the Bane Legion had been overtaken by a royal messenger and informed that His Majesty wanted to see Aedion in the glass castle. Aedion twisted as soon as he left. And then several more times throughout the night. He still didn't know why he was here, and the further he travelled down the dirty and dangerously quiet streets of Rifthold the thoughts began to pound against his skull more and more violently.
Had the king learnt of his treason? Had he learnt that he had an admixture of Ashryver' fae blood in his blood? Had he learnt that Aedion had been draining almost all of his wages to help the rebels? They've finally decided to execute him? Now? After five years of Adarlan rule?
Aedion's blood boiled at the thought that he was about to see the man who had turned his life into a fucking ruin. Who had turned his home into ashes. Who had carved up his family. Orlon, Rhoe, Evalin and.... No. Not now.
He tried to stifle his anxiety by looking at the uneven cobblestones beneath his horse's hooves, the frightened faces in the dirty windows of the dilapidated houses, the peeling paint, the lead grey skies. Aedion was reminded of Orinth. That's roughly what it looked like now. Dilapidated, faded, with greyed white marble, once great. The difference was that even the royal castle looked like this, and in Rifthold only the outskirts looked like this. The houses and mansions in the centre were palaces in themselves. The faces of the people there were much happier and fuller.
Aedion knew at first sight that he would hate this city more than any other. And not just because it was the stronghold of the suffering of his people and many other innocent people. They were met by rows of royal guards in armour and shields.
Aedion's horse, white with long, warm hair, snorted and shook his head as the stable boy grabbed the reins. Aedion stroked his neck and jumped to the ground, Kyllian close behind. His silent confident presence calmed Aedion.
He thought that if they made it back to camp he would thank Kyllian in every way possible and be sure to get him a few days off from command.
Just so they could get back. Just to get back...
The Glass Castle was a strange and creepy place. From the outside, it looked empty and lifeless, like a long abandoned house. Impractically tall and grotesque. Also completely tasteless in Aedion's opinion.
As he stepped onto the red and gold carpets of the castle his stomach did a somersault and his guts knotted. He wasn't sure if it was just the feeling that the floor beneath him was about to collapse.
Aedion inwardly braced himself for the local monsters. He was already familiar with them. He wouldn't break.
A red marble floor, hundreds of candelabras with candles, half a dozen crystal chandeliers, a huge roaster and a glass wall above which the heavens rose.And there were four thrones on a platform. For the royal couple and two princes, one of whom was too young to attend the reception. The other was barely fifteen. Aedion felt some pleasure at the thought of being as much as four years older.
The hall was full of people in smart dresses and uniforms.
Jewels glittered in the ears and around the necks of the women. The armour of Aedion and his men did the same. He felt like a dirty yard dog that his masters had let into the house for warmth.
The dust of the road covered his face thickly, and he would have sold anything to wash his face and look less pathetic. There was a ringing silence as they entered, armour rattling in the hall. The music fell silent. Aedion's heart jumped first to his throat, then dropped to his heels and then lower, but outwardly he remained unperturbed. Kyllian bowed low and Aedion followed suit, feeling his whole body resist it. What would Rhoe think of him? And Aelin? She would probably disown him. How good it was that she couldn't see his shame.
"Stand up."
A wave of goosebumps ran down Aedion's back as he straightened up and raised his eyes to the man who had ruined his life and the lives of millions of others. Aedion experienced a painful attack of anger and vindictiveness. Stocky, broad, with dark eyes and a scar across his brow. At the king's belt gleamed the head of a wyvern, the hilt of sword Notung, and on his finger was a black ring. To his right sat a young boy with blue eyes and a crown tangled in his resinous curls. Dorian Havillird so unlike his father. Crown Prince of the bloody Adarlan Empire. On the king's left hand sat a beautiful woman of age with brown hair and a slightly arrogant expression, the current queen of this evil empire.
Aedion experienced another bout of nausea. Gods, he himself would die here right now, he wouldn't even need the gallows. He stared straight in front of him, trying to calm his heart, ready to burst out of his chest.
"We are all gathered here today to celebrate a great event,"
Aedion could hear his commanders' hearts beating frequently. He was almost choking on the stench of terror that surrounded their squad. All of these brave men were rebels too. They too would be sent to the scaffold following him. It was his fault. He was the one who had incited them through manipulation and blackmail to join the conspirators. Some of them had families. They're coming for them, too. Gods, he felt so guilty in front of them, but he didn't mean any harm, did he? He just wanted freedom. Just freedom...
"Six months ago, there was a brutal battle with rebel rats near Illium, which was suppressed with the help of the forces of the Bane Legion, albeit with heavy losses." The King continued evenly. He was clearly savouring this news.
Aedion shuddered inwardly. That battle they had failed to play out. They had indeed killed a great many rebels. He still felt like he had their scarlet blood on his hands for weeks afterwards. He had almost torn his nails out when the dark fringe of dirt beneath them hadn't completely peeled away. He hadn't sobbed like that in a very long time. Kyllian helped him ease that pain. Gods preserve this marvellous man. He was the only reason Aedion hadn't lost his mind.
For his and Terrasen's sake alone, Aedion was still as unperturbed as ever and even allowed himself a slight smug smile, though deep inside he wanted to scream.
"Until a couple of months ago, under the command of tribune Ashryver, the dangerous unrest of the savage peoples in the Whiteface Mountains was quelled."
The court ladies began to fan themselves with greater care and glared at Aedion. He tried to ignore them and stare straight ahead. He wanted to cower in the deepest, darkest corner of the room if only they would stop staring at him. He'd been stared at his whole life. How tired he was of it. He was tired of it.
They didn't really have to fight. The unrest of the locals in the mountains was also just part of the rebellion, allowing some of the armoury to be smuggled from The Western Weasts to Allsbrook unnoticed. Aedion wasn't sorry if it served as a reason for his execution. They had managed to get a lot of armour and swords, as well as leaving a few squads of recruits in the mountains to be trained there and then slowly join the Bane afterwards.
If they all died today, their cause would live on. It was the last consolation for him, though he knew he could not forgive himself for it.
He would not forgive himself for the deaths of Reeve, Mengr, Gastro, and Briane. He would not forgive himself for Kyllian's death. He would live to lead their rebellion if Aedion died. Aedion's fingers twitched faintly at the hilt of his sword and dagger. He was ready to snatch them up at any second.
"And that's only a fraction of what this nineteen-year old young man has done, gentlemen. Worthy of praise, is it not? " The king looked round at the hushed courtiers. The prince seemed to look slightly ashamed.
The world around Aedion shook. He felt the ground go from under his feet. What?
"Our valiant The Bane General - Aigie Bayer has expressed his wish to resign," Aedion's heart skipped a beat. A lie. Aige was only forty-seven, and they had only recently talked about Bayer going to make some reforms in the Legion.
Aedion knew that Aige was no longer alive. It was probably the last time he'd seen him in the mountains, and it wouldn't be long before he was killed. His heart was torn to shreds and he wanted to collapse on the floor and howl with grief right there. Kyllian swayed slightly towards Aedion to remind him that he was near.
"So he needs to find a replacement," The King smiled thinly and Aedion's blood ran cold in his veins. "And I thought it would be perfectly reasonable to offer the post of general to such a promising young man."
The whole world froze, then came to a standstill. The courtiers murmured unhappily, and a few indignant uproarings were heard from the military generals. Prince Dorian turned his head sharply towards his father, the queen flinched almost imperceptibly. Aedion knew what they all thought of him.
He was an illegitimate bastard. A man with a dash of Ashryver fae blood. An unrecognised prince of Wendlin. A stranger not only to Terrasen, but to all of Erilea. An Adarlan whore in every sense of the title. A bloodthirsty murderer. He was a traitor to his family in the eyes of almost the whole world.
He didn't blame them because he thought so himself.
"What do you think, boy? " The King asked, hearing his thoughts. His dark eyes dug into Aedion and almost skinned him alive along with all the lies he told. "Do you accept the title of general-king of the Legion of Bane, Aedion Ashryver? " His name the King said almost syllabically.
Aedion felt both bad and good at the same time. Relief almost drowned him. Grief threatened to crush him. General. The king was going to make him general of almost the entire army of Therassen and thus further unleash him. To think he hadn't realised what a gift he was giving Aedion.
"Yes, Your Majesty. I accept the title." He forced himself to his knees and bowed his head to the accompaniment of clanking armour. His commanders knelt down after him.
"Well then, stand up General Ashryver. Today we celebrate your appointment."
Gastro on Aedion's left let out a convulsive breath. Kyllian on his right slumped his shoulders in slight relief. The music started up again. A forced applause was heard. And overly broad smiles from the ladies of the court. Aedion was disgusted not only by their glances, but also by those of the generals who had been summoned to the court. Some of them Aedion knew far more intimately than he would have liked. He suppressed an internal shudder and grinned cheekily at Kyllian, as if he knew in advance why they had been summoned.
"And in honour of your appointment, my boy, I have a question," The courtiers fell silent again and the orchestra played quieter. "What do you wish as a gift for your services? An estate, perhaps? Or a new gelding? "
Brien beside him stirred. The councillors muttered indignantly, and the queen turned sharply to her consort. This was too much.
It took Aedion a few seconds to collect his thoughts and say something intelligible.
"Don't misunderstand, Your Majesty," Aedion coughed and put a hand to his heart. "But I have everything one could wish for. My new appointment is already a great gift, for which I thank you." Aedion bowed once more and drew air into his chest. This request would be an impertinence even for him.
The king was silent. Kyllian tensed and slowly turned his head towards Aedion. His face instantly lost all colour. Reeve tried to discreetly kick Aedion's shin, but he looked directly into the King's eyes and finished "The only thing I dare ask of you is..."
"Aedion, no! " Kyllian hissed at him in horror.
"Give me back the Sword of Orynth. " The hall exploded with shouts of indignation. Several glasses shattered. One of the councillors rushed to the platform with the thrones. The prince's eyes widened and the queen clutched at her heart.
The king only smirked and y. He waved his hand, ordering everyone to shut up. Aedion thought he was going to faint.
"Well then, my boy. You want this toy, then you shall have it."
Aedion's legs nearly buckled in relief. He bowed hastily and couldn't contain his first real smile of the day. Kyllian beside him groaned.
The king could not have imagined the importance the sword of Orinth had to any Terrasenian. He had no idea the power he had just given to Aedion.
***
Aedion closed the door of his chambers and leaned his back against it. The smile he had been wearing all evening slipped from his face. He slowly moved to the floor, clutching the sword of Orinth in his right hand painfully. The sword of his uncle who had replaced his father. The sword Aelin was to inherit.
Aedion covered his mouth with his hand, feeling the burning hot tears rolling down his cheeks. He pulled his knees up to his chest and buried his face in them. He felt like he was defiling that sword with his touch alone.
"I'm so sorry." He whispered into the darkness, not knowing who he was addressing exactly.
Aedion was falling apart, and nothing could keep him from collapsing.
So he became the youngest general in the history of Erilea.