Verita - The Guardian of Darkness

3 - A Hostile Climate

The harsh winds tugged at his coat and ruffled his hair, but Aetrian kept his head up and his gaze fixed on the horizon. He had planned this moment for years but now, that everything was about to commence, he felt his stomach churn. It was a proper miracle that House Verita had accepted his proposition. The royal family beyond the eternal barrier was known to be proud and hostile against Gratia – that was all which was known to the people of the continent, who hadn't seen a Veritan since the completion of the barrier. Some of Aetrian's advisors had even wondered if there was life left beyond it, as no one knew if the Forlorn Plains came with cultivatable ground or a climate endurable by humans.

Before the barrier had been established, the Forlorn Plains had solely served as a buffer between inhabited land and the abyss of darkness, which gave the Deep its name. Countless soldiers had left their lives on these fields, generation after generation. Even though Aetrian had never had to put foot on the blood-soaked ground of the Deep, he had often imagined how life was for the exiles.

He also wondered often what his predecessors had been thinking when they had banished the Veritans to the Plains.

Had they been hoping that the opposing House and its supporters would die out there, without them raising so much as a hand in this genocide?

"Your Majesty, do you intend to receive Verita's envoy like this?"

Aetrian frowned at his aid, who had been looking at him sourly for some time. Ves' eyes had been described by court ladies as topaz but all Aetrian could see in them was a slow-burning fire, fanned by his every word and action.

"Why not, what's wrong with it?"

"There's nothing wrong with it, if you must put it like that", replied Ves. His tone was unsurprisingly court but Aetrian had known all along that his aid thought of this meeting as a momentous mistake. "But you should keep the royal guard with you. Don't sit unprotected like this."

There it was; the lecture, which Ves had started back in the palace, continued.

"Your Majesty seems to think that the Veritan enovy is coming to surrender."

"Since that's what I proposed."

"You ..." Ves gasped for air. "Do you, in all seriousness, think that they will simply obey our wishes?"

Aetrian nodded with an earnest expression on his face. "I'm counting on their cooperation – just as they've promised in their response letter."

"Forgive me, Your Majesty, but I must tell you that you're behaving like a senseless blockhead before it's too late."

Aetrian did not bat an eye at his aid's insult. He was used to Ves' rough way of speaking since they were cousins who'd grown up alongside each other. In fact, Aetrian had been called much worse over the years.

Still, he had to keep up appearances in front of his people and they were in hearing distance of common soldiers. Ves was silenced with a stern look and bowed his head apologetically. He knew that he'd been careless.

"I will forgive your rude comment, as you are concerned for my safety." Aetrian leaned to his right, where Ves was standing, fuming with worry. He lowered his voice. "But why would you think that they wouldn't obey?"

Ves stared at him bewildered. "Obviously they've defied our house for as long as the records tell. They were exiled because of their refusal to become vassals of Gratia."

"What if the situation has changed? It's been nearly 300 years – just in case you've forgotten."

As if he was thinking about the words spoken, Ves kept silent. The wind picked up in the meantime, causing both men to look around. There was still no sign of silhouettes appearing on the faint line, which separated the grassy Plains from the grey sky above them.

"Just look at this place. It's barely on their side of the barrier, but what do you see?", asked Aetrian into the pause.

He'd stood up from his chair and started to wander around, so Ves followed him quickly; one hand constantly on the indigo scarf and leather belts wound around his hip. The longsword attached to the belts was still sheathed but he held himself alert enough to draw it in case of an emergency. As Aetrian refused to bring his personal guards with him at all times, Ves had grown used to his secondary role as bodyguard.

"There's nothing here except for stones and infertile soil", continued Aetrian. "It's spring but the weather has gotten progressively worse as we were traveling. The winds in particular are harsh and temperatures are much lower than in the capital."

Finally, Ves decided to follow his cousin's advice and scrutinized their surroundings. There really was nothing around that looked like it could be useful – or edible, for that matter. The barrenness of the land didn't bode well for its soil's fertility.

"Not to mention the gruesome monsters, which are roaming around the Plains. Don't you think the Veritans would want to escape from such a desolate place?"

"But still, the prize might be too high. After all, they would have to swear loyalty to someone from House Gratia", defended Ves his position.

"You're right. It could turn out like that."

Aetrian looked up into the iron-colored sky, which was covered in dark clouds brewing up a storm. As if these lands weren't hostile enough already, he thought to himself, before turning to his aid.

"I can't really explain it, Ves, but for some reason I've got the feeling that it's the right time."

#

The icy winds blowing over the Plains were no longer a slight nuisance; rather, they'd become a kind of inanimate monster to the soldiers waiting for the Veritans' arrival.

Although Ves was begging to retreat to the lavish tent propped up behind them, Aetrian refused time after time. His delegation was freezing around make-shift fires which struggled against the storm, so why should he be comfortable and warm?

Moreover, Aetrian wanted to greet the envoy properly. Whether it was a king, a queen or a citizen council that would head the delegation, they deserved to be treated with respect in his eyes. Like no other vassal, they had been of service to the kingdom of Gratia in the past three hundred years – even though they had never intended to be.

Aetrian believed in the effectiveness of the Eternal Barrier, but it had been more or less superfluous in the past 300 years. As house Verita stood between Gratia and the Deep, any monster that was heading towards his lands was caught and slaughtered long before it could have reached Aetrian's sight.

Still, most nobles of Gratia held nothing but contempt for the Veritans. For no other reason than their inherited distrust, they claimed that the exiles' hearts were black as coal and shriveled up to the size of a raisin. As far as rumors went, the Veritans even drank the blood of slaughtered monsters and clad in their skin.

Aetrian agreed that it was a monstrous picture – but he also thought it to be nonsense. If House Gratia would have lost the war 300 years ago, people would be spreading the same rumors about the Gratians.

Finally, movement stirred within the ranks of his soldiers, and Aetrian used his near-frozen hands to push himself off the chair.

"Have they arrived?"