Tales from Thirodas - The Prince

“Please welcome; Donovan of House Howl!” The announcer shouted as the doors to the throne room were opened. “Lord of the Silverpines, and Protector of the Western Coast!”

Prince Warrick Brathedos had admired Donovan Howl ever since he was a small boy. One of his father’s closest friends and most dangerous of allies, Lord Donovan was renowned across the Northern Continent for breeding and training massive direwolves. Deep in the Silverpines; the forest that covers a majority of the Western Coast, wolves grew up to be the size of human men. But under the care of House Howl, direwolves had begun to eclipse even horses in size. Warrick had pleaded with his father and mother when he was younger to keep one as a pet, but they insisted that only members of the Howl Family and those under their employ were capable of taming such massive beasts. It was superstition, but by the time Warrick was old enough to know better, he had grown out of that phase.

“Accompanying him; his wife, Magister Justine Vencopse and their daughter, Lady Avina!” The announcer continued. Warrick smiled brightly when Avina’s name was called.

Justine Vencopse was a member of the Celestial Magistrate, who some believe is the reason why Howl direwolves grew to such colossal scales. She made frequent appearances at the King’s court, often bringing her children along to study and learn politics. Avina was the middle child of three, and the only girl. Her elder brother Cedric, had remained in the Silverpines to manage their lord father’s estate for the coming year, while the youngest child Gordon was off training as a squire for some Duke in the Southern Continent.

Avina was joined by two guards standing several feet from her side. They were each carrying a leash that was tethered to a bright silver collar around Avina’s neck. It was disheartening to see, but Warrick understood the need. Avina Howl’s affliction was a known thing to most residents of the Brathedos Palace, and it was far more noticeable now than ever. It was said that after each full moon, a Lycan will lose more and more of their original forms, until their humanity is lost completely. Avina’s curse had already taken a hefty toll on her body. Her shoulders and biceps were covered in fine ginger fur, with dark black fur covering her forearms. Underneath her elegant blue dress, Warrick noticed Avina was not wearing shoes, as her feet looked more like paws now; also covered in black fur. The most noticeable changes to her however were Avina’s fox ears; which protruded from the top of her head, and the long bushy fox tail coming from her backside. The throne room may have been bustling with activity and conversation, but Prince Warrick could tell who everyone was whispering about now.

“Lord Donovan. It’s good to see you again.” King Gerrion rose from his throne and clasped Don’s hand and shoulder. Gerrion Brathedos the Third was a gallant figure to behold. Dressed in the dark crimson and brilliant gold colours of his house, the King of Northolme carried himself with the poise and grace that made him revered across the entirety of Thirodas. Gerrion had shaven his otherwise full brown beard down to a scruff, at the Queen’s behest for the social gathering; while his hair was cropped just above his neck, nestled under the magnificent cobalt Crown of the North.

“The feeling is mutual, Your Grace. It has been far too long.” Don returned the handshake, and the two smiled brightly. He was no less elegant than his childhood friend, turned monarch. The dark green and blue colours of House Howl were always a welcome sight in the Palace, and Lord Donovan wore them proudly. While the men conversed about old times, their wives had taken it upon themselves to continue greeting the guests, and discuss the kingdom’s magical affairs.

Queen Harriet Porculus; often styled as The Mage Queen, was the 104th Grand Magus of the Celestial Magistrate. After her marriage to King Gerrion Brathedos, combining both the Northern Continent’s royal lineage, and an order consisting of roughly two thirds of all known spell-casters, their new family became the most powerful and influential force on the entire continent; and arguably on Thirodas. Warrick’s three younger sisters; Kayla, Denise, and Joan, often argued and debated amongst one another over who would succeed in their mother’s place. The Grand Magus was not chosen from lineage, but through magical skill and democracy. Any mage with sufficient control of the arcane was eligible for the position; and in the event of the previous Grand Magus’ death, each member of the Magistrate votes on who should lead them next. Queen Harriet has held the esteemed title for nearly two and a half decades and counting. She actively encouraged her daughters to study and improve their spell-casting, so that one day they would be eligible for the Mithril Sash. Warrick himself possessed a basic knowledge of cantrips and prestidigitation, but as the only male heir to his father’s crown his destiny was much more set in stone.

“Your Highness?” A voice called out to him. Prince Warrick shook his head a moment and realized he was daydreaming. He composed himself quickly and found Avina Howl standing before him, smiling her beautiful smile.

“L-Lady Avina.” Warrick cleared his throat. “It’s uh…good to see you. Here.”

“I am happy to see you too, Prince Warrick.” Avina spoke calmly, but her tail wagging back and forth betrayed her excitement. “I was hoping the two of us could go for a stroll; away from all the bustle of this gathering.”

“I would…I would like that very much, my lady.” Warrick turned his attention to Avina’s handlers. “Erm…will your guards be joining us, as well?” They stood vigilant a couple feet away; Warrick noticed not a single guest dared to come between them and their charge. It left a wide, empty circle around Avina; almost like an invisible barrier was surrounding her.

“They will allow me freedom for the morning and afternoon.” Avina ran a hand along her silver collar. “The…leashes…are mostly used for large social situations like this. Precautions and all that.”

“Of course…of course.” Prince Warrick’s chair sprang to life, sensing its owner’s desire to move. “Is there anywhere in particular you’d like to go, Lady Avina?”

“There is, my prince.” Avina paused a moment, looking to her guards. “But I must tell you about it, alone.”