Men of Vorenia (Updated)

Chapter 4: The Elder Woods

The dark skies over the Vorenian-Fraujarn border were illuminated by flames, the crackling and popping of burning trees resonating through the night. Silhouettes of three horses and riders cantered across the plains before the blazing forest, the horses' snorts and hoofbeats drowned out by the roaring flames. "Those damned Vorenians! They're burning the Elder Woods," one of the riders cried out, stopping his horse abruptly.

"Magnus, quiet down! The wolves are hunting at this hour," the second rider hissed, slowing her horse to a stop as she spoke.

"Ingrid, this is an insult to Fraujar! You know how sacred the Elder Woods are to us!"

"Ingrid is right, brother. Shut up."

The third stopped next to the young woman, staring up where the tongues of fire licked the sky. Magnus yanked his cloak hood off, revealing his dark chocolate brown hair. "You seem to forget your place, Ragnar. You are lucky Father let you ride with us!"

Ingrid sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose while Magnus glared viciously at Ragnar. "Brother," she exclaimed, narrowing her eyes at Magnus as he looked at her. "Be kinder to Ragnar. You know how hard Father is on him and-"

"Sister, you know how Ragnar acts superior to both of us despite being younger!"

Ragnar sat in silence, watching as the trees closer to the three of them became engulfed in fire. When the trees bored him, he turned his gaze to his siblings, his sister fronting a fierce defense in his favor. Ingrid, the Third Princess of Fraujar, was the sixth born in the Imperial Family. She had always looked out for Ragnar throughout his childhood when his mother could not and his father would not. Meanwhile, Magnus, the Third Prince of Fraujar, who was the fifth born, found Ragnar's existence to be a joke. Despite this, Ragnar respected his older brother, especially his tenacity in battle which earned him the title 'Magnus the Dread'.

Ragnar's other siblings, Augustus, Olga, Alyssia, and Ivar, all would scoff as he passed. Augustus, the eldest child, was notorious for picking fights that would get physical, most of which were with Ragnar. The fights that Augustus and Ragnar got into ended one way, with Ragnar beaten to a bloody pulp on the ground. Ragnar was strictly forbidden from fighting back against his brother because of Augustus's position as the Crown Prince. There was a time when Augustus got a sliver on a wooden column in an inn, and the Emperor of Fraujar commanded that the column be cut down and burned. The inn immediately collapsed, killing peasants, injuring many of the soldiers sent to fulfill the Emperor's command, and trapping dozens inside. Everyone who was trapped inside the collapsed inn was killed when the fire consumed the building.

The memory of that horrific event was seared into Ragnar's brain, even though it had happened when Ragnar was barely six. The Emperor demanded that the other six children be brought to the inn to witness the consequences of harming Augustus. The flames of the inn returned as Ragnar's eyes turned back to the flaming Elder Woods, a sick feeling permeating his body as he cleared his throat.

"You've got something to say?"

Ragnar turned to look at his brother, Magnus's attention suddenly focused on him. "No," Ragnar muttered, shifting his gaze away from Magnus and returning it to the ever-growing Elder Woods fire.

*

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"Father," Ingrid said, bowing her head as she knelt before the Fraujarn Emperor. "The Vorenians have set the Elder Woods ablaze. It is a complete loss of resources."

The Emperor sat upon his throne, the darkness enveloping him as he chuckled. The already cold room seemed to grow ever frostier as Ingrid cringed. "Oh, my dear daughter. There is no such thing as a Fraujarn loss. The Elder Woods is a shame, but it is only a delay to a great Fraujarn victory."

"Father, forgive me for saying, but those woods are sacred to us. This is a great offense to not only us, but our religion as well," Ingrid exclaimed, continuing to kneel as her father stood from his throne.

"Daughter, you know nothing of war. One does not win instantly. There are delays to victory, and the Elder Woods is one of those."

"Father, you forced me to participate in military training and sent me to battle without a second thought. I know of war, and this one is not logical. The only way you will achieve victory is through ending this-"

The Emperor strode through the dark room, his face becoming illuminated by the moonlight shining through the windows. He stopped before Ingrid, raising a pale hand and slapping her. Ingrid stared in horror at her father's face, a contorted expression of fury arcing across his scarred face. "You will never speak of that again! Do you hear me, girl!"

"Yes, sir!"

Ingrid quickly stood, running out of the throne room holding her cheek in her hand. "Insolent wench," the Emperor muttered as the door closed behind her, running a hand over the rough contour of his face.

His fingers brushed over the three scars that ran down the right side of his face, the skin on his face twitching as he touched them. He groaned, ripping his hand away. "Get me my physician!"

As a servant ran to find the Emperor's physician, he returned to his throne. A few minutes later, the physician entered with a candle and jar in hand. "Your Imperial Highness," the physician said, bowing before approaching the Emperor.

"Rodric, the stupid scars are bothering me again," the Emperor grumbled, turning his head for the physician to see.

"Is something bothering Your Highness?"

"Those blasted Vorenians burned the Elder Woods. This is not a loss though! It is only a delay of victory!"

"Your Highness," the physician said, unscrewing the cover of the jar. "You seem to forget that every time that I come to see you is under the same circumstance. Those Vorenians have advanced on the front lines, those Vorenians have intercepted a supply line, those Vorenians have burned the Elder Woods."

"What is your point, Rodric?"

"My point is that this conflict is causing you strife. Perhaps let your generals run this war," Rodric explained, applying a salve onto the Emperor's scars.

The Emperor pulled away from Rodric's hand, glaring at him. "Do not utter such treasonous words! I could have you executed!"

"Your Highness, I am the only one that can mix the salve to alleviate your scars. You would be wise not to do that."

The Emperor clenched his jaw, leaning back over to have more of the salve applied. The physician placed more of the salve on the Emperor's cheek, wiping his hand clean of the excess as he finished. He screwed the cap back on the jar, bowing and taking his leave.

The Emperor sat in silence, an occasional footstep in the hall drawing his attention to the doors. When no one entered, a little sadness grew within him, which quickly grew into anger. He stood sharply from his throne, walking down the aisle and shoving his way through the doors. As he stormed down the hall, a messenger rushed frantically after him. "Your Highness!"

The Emperor stopped, turning to face the young man. "What is it?"

"A message to you sir," the messenger said, catching his breath. "It is an invitation."

The Emperor took the invitation from the messenger, opened it up, and read it. At first, he became furious upon reading the contents of the invitation, but he soon began chuckling. "We have preparations to make," he announced to the dark halls, throwing the paper to the ground.

As the Emperor walked away with the messenger in tow, the paper settled on the ground. On the paper, elegant letters spelled the phrase, "You have been cordially invited to the coronation of the Imperial Princess Orelia of House Tania of the Empire of Vorenia."