The Witch's Cursed Daughter

83. Return To Kenellor

A shiver radiated, hot yet cool, on the back of Voster's neck as he felt the familiar energy of Evianna's curse. Unlike before, the magic seemed blurry, unsure, as if another form of power was engulfing it. Closing his eyes, he cast his senses as far as they could stretch in her direction, yet he could not reach wherever she was.

"A sight I never thought I would be glad to see," Romile laughed dryly as Kenellor came into view, pulling Voster away from his fruitless search.

After months of grassless scenery, piles of corpses and unforgiving sunlight, years of unfamiliar landscapes of the neighbouring kingdoms wracked with war, the town they had left behind was much different upon their return. With the surviving cavalry, infantry, and injured soldiers in tow, Julian, Voster and Romile, rode in a wagon at the head of the parade. Not wishing to overshadow the contributions of those who loyally laid down their lives, the group relaxed while peeking through gaps in the sheet walls.

"The gate has moved," Voster mumbled.

"You're right," Julian replied as he cast his gaze about the strangely unacquainted terrain. Clambering towards the front of the wagon, careful not to step on Romile's long legs, which were obnoxiously stretched width-wise, Julian pulled open the curtain behind the driver. "How much has the city expanded? I thought there was a farm in this area."

A ragged soldier in ill-fitting armour who held the reins answered as the creaking wheels beneath the transport bumped over the threshold of the entrance to the new district, "There was, Your Highness. The Emperor paid handsomely for the land and began construction over the fields almost three years ago. With many citizens across the empire struggling during the war-time it was necessary to provide shelter and housing for those who arrived with nothing."

"At least he did one good deed," Julian sighed, surprise and an odd sense of pride he had never felt for his father before tickled on the left side of his chest. Gazing at the gloomy buildings and dingy side streets, Julian was unnerved by the irrefutable poverty. With Saryne and Cielo tied to the back of the wagon, many of the street children looked on with wonder; the only childlike aspect to them was their large excited eyes which heavily disagreed with their gaunt faces. The commanding officer's beast was the only one to return to Kenellor; war beasts were required by law to be extinguished before returning, it was believed that once they'd had a taste for battle they would resort to rabid behaviours and no longer be of use to their masters.

Looking to the driver, the prince could see the man sadly shifting his eyes away from thin residents who tried to shy away from the procession. "What else don't I know?"

Barely a second passed before the driver burst out, "After assigning property, the people were abandoned, left to fend for themselves. Without a work industry to generate jobs or wages, the new district has become little more than a slum."

"I see. Thank you for telling me," Julian muttered before closing the curtain over. Sitting back against the wooden bench, wobbling as they rode, he considered the damage he would need to fix across the empire.

"The tasks just keep piling up," Romile sighed loudly as he bumped Julian's knee reassuringly.

As the long line of the army funnelled into the old town of Kenellor, the extreme contrast in wealth was shocking. Musicians played joyously for the return of their heroes; flowers rained from high above as beautiful women beckoned soldiers from their windows. Stalls and markets burst with mouth-watering aromas, and children ran alongside, peeking at faces to find a father, brother, cousin, or friend.

The march continued over the bridge where Julian caught sight of an image he had prepared himself for, yet rage and grief flooded him with murderous intensity. The Chancellor's body had remained where it hung, now bones shyly peered through missing flesh, and his clothes were almost gone. Tearing away his eyes to steady himself, Julian's fists clenched as though an electric current had tapped him on the shoulder. Seeing his distress, Romile and Voster sat in silence, allowing Julian to collect his thoughts, aware of his sorrow.

As they arrived in the courtyard, the group could see that they were the last of the soldiers to arrive. The force from Tolimn was waiting in lines, having left a sizable gap for the Bulen troops to filter in. Dropping from the wagon, Julian, Voster, and Romile walked with authority to their positions at the front of the organised militia. Before their return they had been gifted with clean uniforms which sang the empire's colour, decorated in ribbons and medals. The sight of the commanding officers pristine appearance juxtaposing the grime covered troops around them was enough the start murmurs in the palace staff that had awaited their arrival.

The afternoon light was soft, friendly to the crowd standing exhausted in the stone courtyard. The trickling sound of the fountain was comforting, and the breeze was gentle against their weather-worn skin. The enjoyment came to an end as the outline of a man appeared along the stonework. Tilting his head to the balcony high above, Julian couldn't help but feel a smirk beneath his nose as he beheld the Emperor's visage.

"Welcome," sounded the booming tenor of the Emperor as he held out his arms to his subjects, "I offer many thanks to you brave men who laid down your lives for your Emperor. Not once did my belief waver as news of your victory reached my ears, and your safe return gladdens me more than you can understand.

"Despite his illegitimacy, my second son, Julian Dominic Oran Del Waldemar, has steered Waldemyre from defeat and helped to raise it above all others on the continent. Additionally, with the glory accompanied by our new-found wealth in jewels, we, our empire and people, are living comfortably due to your sacrifices; for this, I shall be ever grateful." Julian could feel the Emperor's eyes on him, leering happily as he gloated about the existence of Evianna, who he believed Julian thought was dead.

"With the Myrde Festival having concluded a few weeks ago," once again his gaze reached the second prince, Voster's fingers emitted a faint glow as he stepped forward, and quickly Julian reached out to him shaking his head. Pleased by the reaction he was receiving, the Emperor continued, "We are overjoyed at the opportunity to celebrate once again, and what better cause than the celebratory ceremony of the Second Prince, after his desires of expansion have come true."

Having concluded his speech and gaining an on-going cheer from the crowd, the Emperor disappeared from the balcony. Romile gritted his teeth as he spat, "He's placing the entire war on your shoulders! This makes it look as though you were desperate for more power and forced the Emperor into risking the lives of the people."

"I have to admit; I believe he has become sharper in his final days," Julian jested.

"Now is not the time to be impressed by your father's villainy," Voster replied, pulling his arm away from Julian's grip.

"You're right, my apologies," Julian agreed, "as tradition dictates, the royal family comes together on such an occasion to dine. Any last remarks before we begin?" The three quietly watched each other, adrenaline beginning to release into their veins. "May the Myrde watch over us all."