Chapter Text
Trepidation and fear coursed through Caldon’s bloodstream as he watched Jaren, Naari, Kiva, and Cresta ride off towards Vallenia, pushing their horses to full speed.
Mother of Sarana…
Despite the fact that he made a promise to Kiva that he was now honour-bound to fulfill, he was still raring to go riding after them right now rather than wait for later. This was his kingdom. His birthplace. The home of his family for generations and the home of his people, friends, and comrades. While his cousin was often referred to as the People’s Prince, his own soldiers, albeit jokingly at times, referred to him as the Guards’ Prince but joke as they may, Caldon cared fiercely for their wellbeing and was as loyal to them as they had been to him. So he prayed with all his heart that all the effort he had gone through to train alongside and to even personally get to know the troops at some level had not been in vain. There had to still be loyal men amongst the ranks. There had to be loyalty.
When the others disappeared from view and he turned towards Tipp and Galdric who was now sitting on a tree stump with his head in his hands and eyes squeezed shut as though in pain, Caldon did not allow his frustration and impatience with the arrangement that he himself had agreed to and modified with his own conditions to show on his face as he would not make the splitting of the group any harder on the child than it had to be.
From Kiva’s softhearted parting words to Tipp, he knew that Tipp was just as unhappy as he was with the arrangement and perhaps even more so, given that there was no way in Hell that Caldon would permit him within a hundred meters of the city of Vallenia even after he recovered from the exhaustion after the last few days of heavily intensive horseback riding, at least until the kingdom officially belonged to the Vallentis family once more. And honestly, Caldon knew that it would be harder to get the boy not to follow him when the time came for Caldon to go meet up with the rest of their family and help Kiva face Zuleeka, because he had really meant what he said and absolutely refused to allow her to face that deranged and bewitched mad woman all on her own, but for now what he could do was try to offer Tipp some form of reassurance.
Caldon comedically rolled his shoulders back with purpose and cracked his knuckles one by one, grinning down at Tipp as he placed a hand on the redhead’s shoulder. “Alright men, since I have for some strange reason taken orders from Kiva let’s get you two fed and watered.”
“I’m not a horse Cal.” Tipp mumbled, eyes drooping so heavily that Caldon moved his arm around the boy’s shoulders as a precaution.
“Ah yes, our horses also need to be fed and watered. Thanks for the reminder sleepy bud, you are doing so great.” He gave him a thumbs-up.
Tipp, being the slightly grouchy eleven-year old he was at the moment, rolled his eyes, let out an exasperated sigh and then rapidly muttered quite a few distasteful things about these arrangements in more than one language from what Caldon recognized.
“Now hold on just one moment!” Caldon yelped, appalled and rather in awe of the eleven year old’s foul language despite knowing exactly where he had picked up the art of bilingual cursing, because heavens above he was pretty sure that his own kid cousin had never even heard half the swear words that had just come out of Tipp’s mouth. However, Galdric interrupted him with a cough and took over.
“Now, now young Tipp,” The elderly man rasped as he smiled at the boy, reached up towards him with an extremely shaky hand and placed it on his forearm. Tipp huffed and looked away. “While your frustration is understandable, that shouldn’t be how we express our feelings upon these matters.”
Caldon frowned at the man’s exhausted tremors. They seemed to be getting worse and he now questioned whether the older man would even make the short distance to the inn without collapsing.
“I truly do understand your fears for Kiva and the others, after all they are travelling straight into what is likely to be a volatile environment, however I also have full faith in them and trust that everything will fall exactly into place. Everything will be exactly as it should be.”
Caldon sent the man an appreciative nod but Galdric had already broken his gaze with them both, distracted and staring off into the line of surrounding trees but Caldon supposed that made sense, he had used up a lot of energy to get them all to Oakhollow after all.
“But… B- but…” Suddenly, Tipp began to tremble, all anger and frustration seeming to be washed away and Caldon moved to hold him up more steadily, slowly realizing that Tipp’s weakness wasn’t because he was on the verge of collapse but rather that of tears when he met his gaze. “I - I’m sorry…but I just can’t…” He stifled a sob.
“Hey, hey easy kiddo. I’ve got you. I’m not mad.” Caldon said soothingly, quickly kneeling in front of him and watching as the young boy bit his wobbling lip, fighting to suppress himself from crying.
“It’s okay to cry, Tipp.” Caldon tried but the boy shook his head rapidly in downright refusal, still fighting and fighting himself, causing Caldon to feel as though his own heart was being slowly chipped by a chisel. Tipp should never have even known the inside of those horrific walls which had taught him that even emotional vulnerability could get you killed.
He was only a child. A sweet, innocent child.
A while ago, Caldon might have asked himself how it would be possible for any child who lived through Zalindov could maintain such innocence but he should have known better. He knew that his life lived in privilege and had shielded him from most horrors when he was a younger but now with the world revealing darker and darker truths each day, he should have better understood that all children were innocent and that all children were deserving of a good life, no matter where they came from or amongst whom they grew up with. It was their right. Anyone who opposes that and anyone who purposely hurts children, aren’t even human in Caldon’s eyes. So when all this was done, Caldon vowed that Warden Rooke would pay severely for his crimes against humanity, inter-kingdom treaties be damned.
“What is it, Tipp?” Caldon asked in concern when the boy didn’t seem to be able to calm down, acknowledging that Tipp probably wasn’t just this upset because he was tired and mad at their current arrangements. “Are you aching or hurting anywhere? I’ve got a salve that might just come in handy.” He offered but again, Tipp shook his head.
“The - the last time we all got separated…” The boy sniffled, wiping his eyes with his sleeve but the gestures proved useless as his tears finally began to fall. “It w- was so bad Caldon, so bad . I- when I woke up in the rebel camp… I -I t-thought I wouldn’t see any of you again. And K-kiva… Kiva!” The boy choked at her name and his face contorted with a guilt-ridden, still grieving and fear fueled pain that Caldon recognized far too well.
“I -I thought… she was gone. She s-saved me so many times in Zalindov… but I just wanted to- to hate her… I did hate her for - for weeks after the - the ball. I just got her b-back. What if I lose her again, C- Caldon ? What if I lose my best friend? My - my big sister? For real this time?! What if?! ”
For a moment, Caldon was unable to speak, having been reminded of how he had also pushed away Ashlynn after their parents' deaths. He knew it had been selfish, that she had lost her parents too but even after they had been reunited, even after he had finally been given the chance to apologize, the questions kept circling. Why had he punished her for something that wasn’t her fault at all? Why hadn’t he comforted her? Why hadn’t he kept her close as their parents would have wanted them to have done?
And if he had barely kept himself together in the past three years, only god knew how Tipp had managed to go on this long.
Oh god, he hated himself.
How terrifying must it have been for Tipp to have woken up amongst the rebels and not having known where he was or a single person around him? Caldon couldn’t imagine what had been going through his head and he felt like such a fool for not even having asked him more about that after he had arrived at Stoneforge with Torrel and Cresta.
The boy hadn’t been able to win the fight against the sobs that he had clearly been trying so hard to hold back and his body began to wrack and heave. His fearful, tearfilled brown eyes were like windows to all the pain and misery and suffering, both physical and psychological, that no eleven year old, no child should ever have been allowed or forced to endure. Caldon fiercely pulled the boy into a warm, protective embrace.
He wished he could take away all his pain. He wished that he could have taken every horrible thing the boy had been through onto himself. He would have switched places with Tipp in a heartbeat. Anything to take away the suffering that Tipp had been through. Anything.
“Hush now, it’ll be alright now, little knight.” He murmured, using the nickname his father had once called him and pressed a kiss to the child’s hair. He rested his chin on the shaking boy’s head as he held him close, staring out at the road back to Vallenia as he finally realized how very true Kiva’s words to him had been. She had been right. He would do anything to protect him. Tipp was his little brother now, through and through. “We won’t lose her, Tipp. I will guarantee it, as will Jaren, Naari, and Cresta.”
They wouldn’t be losing anyone. Zuleeka would pay for her crimes and Navok would be cast out of their kingdom, either waving a white flag or better yet, in a casket.
The wiry boy had bristled a little at the last name but even so, his hands gripped even tighter onto the back of Caldon’s vest and pressed his face into his shoulder.
“You promise?” Tipp whispered, pulling away after a few long minutes and looking up at him tearfully. He was still trembling but not as badly as before and Caldon gently squeezed both of his shoulders, giving him a reassuring smile as the boy’s brown eyes appeared to widen. “I-”
“CALDON, LOOK OUT!” Tipp shrieked, suddenly yanking down on his arm hard and all thoughts of his oaths and obligations, willingness to protect some and cause harm to others, were thrown out of Caldon’s mind as his side was pierced by what he somehow still laughably could recognize as a dagger based on the white hot and shocking experience. He could not stop the cry of pain that parted his lips as the dagger was pulled out of him as quickly as it it had caught him, could not even turn around fast enough to face their attacker, and suddenly his body, his body that was well trained and strengthened that had withstood wounds much worse than this one, was unable to move. There was suddenly just too much wind… He was surrounded by walls of wind!
But how?! Why?!
His hands could not move instinctively towards the wound, not even to his sword. He couldn’t even open his eyes and when tried to summon his magic, tried to do the last thing, the only thing he could possibly do…
His magic… he couldn’t even touch it. He couldn’t pull it. The panic began to settle in as the pain only intensified, rapidly spreading from his side and spiralling all over his body from the inside to the out.
Why couldn’t he reach it?! Where was his magic?! He needed the fire! His fire! Where was his fire?!
And that’s when it clicked.
There was no fire because he was on fire.
He looked down at his now bloodied abdomen as the world swayed around him.
And it began to burn like hell.
His mind began flitting between lucidity and delusion, pain and anguish, yet a total awareness of the fact that something had gone so badly wrong which tortured him further when he realized that Tipp was screaming and that there were other voices now. At least two of them, familiar.
He blinked once and he found himself on the ground, face pressed in the dirt and curled up as his arms wrapped around himself with his teeth gritted. He blinked again and then there were dozens of pairs of black boots on the ground before him. He felt his head get moved upwards and then he was facing a fear filled, panicked expression
“Tipp.“ was all he managed to croak before he screamed again, vision spotting black and white as he felt his body begin to convulse when someone pressed their hands to his wound. The boy was hovering over him, looking up towards someone beating his line of vision with betrayal written all over his face. “H- how could you?!”
“As I said, everything will be as it should be, young Tipp.”
Galdric? Why did he sound so calm, so different… so confident?
“ Tipp… ” Caldon tried again to get the boy’s attention, with all the intent to get him to stand up and get away from their attackers, but he couldn’t stop from whimpering. He had to protect him but he didn’t even know what was happening… his face felt wet. Why was he crying?
So much pain…
“Will you please give it up already? There is nothing you can do for him now, little boy.”
Cold… so cold. The newer but still familiar, regal voice made him shudder.
Who?
He tried to remember but he couldn’t. Weakness crawled all over his bones but he needed strength.
He strained every muscle on the body, trying to leech any remaining strength out of them and could feel his fingertips warm at where they touched were pressed into his wound but not a single flame was produced.
Caldon groaned miserably. He had been stabbed before, but why was the pain so much more unbearable this time?
“… coated with venom of the Necros Adder….”
Vipers…
He hated those…
“ Stay awake, please !” The boy begged and Caldon tried his very best to listen but another sudden pang of pain bolted through his body, causing his entire being to jolt. Then it began to happen again and again and again, until he was struggling to breathe and was left heaving.
Necros Adder…
“… And then there is Necros Adder venom, a fast acting venom which is excruciatingly painful and just a drop will lead you into an inevitable doom. No known cure in all of Wenderall for it.”
“Well, aren’t you just a little ray of sunshine?”
After they had been properly introduced, all those months ago at the Winter Lodge, Kiva had eventually grown comfortable enough to excitedly blabber on and on about the various symptoms of types of poisons and venoms… reciting every single one, no matter how morbid they were.
The origin of her nickname.
“Prince Caldon Vallentis is a dead man.” Galdric jeered, laughter ensued. “Ah, this poor fellow.”
Caldon couldn’t see anymore. His insides were on fire and somehow, despite how clouded his mind was… he just knew that he was fading, just as sure as he was of his heart pounding faster and faster inside his chest. Too fast. Then, something was pushed to his mouth and frigid water dripped onto his parched lips as his head was tilted upwards.
“Drink it! D- Drink!” It was Tipp again, his voice no longer fearful but urgent and demanding. Caldon tried to do as he was told but the moment he opened his mouth to let the water in, he screamed again. It tasted wrong and his body had suddenly spasmed.
“No…” He choked and spat it out uselessly. “Can’t… it hurts.”
“What on Earth are you doing, idiot boy?” Galdric laughed from somewhere around them and just then Caldon heard Tipp let out a yelp of pain but the boy’s hand supporting the back of his head didn’t even budge.
“Drink, Caldon!” The boy screamed the order with almost a trill, causing Caldon’s ears to ring and when he gasped at the shock of the sound, the opening of the waterskin was practically shoved inside his mouth and caused him to gag. “Drink, now!”
Caldon couldn’t even speak with the waterskin in his mouth, feeling wave after wave of nausea take hold. He was practically choking on the material of the waterskin. Never before in his life had he felt so helpless, so lacking of choice, and pathetic. He relented, he was forced to relent as he was too weak to do anything else and it hurt so bloody much.
Why was Tipp doing this?
He barely processed the onslaught of laughter from around them as he struggled to swallow with even his throat muscles screaming in aggravation and spluttered out water.
“S-Stop it, Tipp! ”
“Drink!”
Every time he had successfully managed to spit the spout of the waterskin back out of his mouth, Tipp shoved it back into his mouth again without mercy. Forcing and begging him to drink the water, to swallow as much of it as he could.
Caldon gasped and cried out in pain until he couldn’t hear anymore of Tipp’s orders. The shadows were overwhelming his mind just like they had already done to his vision now. He wished for it to be over, he wished that he would stop burning from the inside.
And then, just like that it was over.
Caldon’s vision finally cleared for one moment more, just as his head fell back to the ground.
“C-Caldon… I’m sorry, I’m so sorry…” Tipp was sobbing badly as a heavily armoured guard, a Grey Guard, roughly seized his arms from behind.
Ripping him away from Caldon.
No!
Where were they taking him? Why were they taking him? Was Navok really already here?
Was he really going to die like this?
Who the hell cares!
He was supposed to keep Tipp safe!
He had made a promise to Kiva, his sister not by blood but through their hearts.
He would have died to keep his promise. Yet, right now, it seemed that in order to keep it, he had to live!
He tried to call out for Tipp but only incoherent words left him. His throat was crackling from the inside, despite all the funny-tasting water he had drunk.
“Tipp…” Caldon mouthed as his eyes tried to follow the man who dragged the boy away but his body, while no longer burning, remained in a sickly stupor and still wouldn’t respond to him as though in revolt against what it had just been put through. His eyelids fluttered and it was a torture in itself that he couldn’t even stop them from closing as he drifted off, solely knowing how big of a failure he truly was now.
He had failed his family. His aunt, his sister, his cousins and worst of all now, Kiva and Tipp.
And if he was finally about to reunite with Mama and Papa once more, then surely they would be ashamed that he hadn’t fought harder.
“Dispose of the body.”
And that was the last thing Caldon remembered hearing before the darkness returned under death’s watchful gaze.