Realm of Monsters-Chapter 601: Veres & Goldelm Part 2

Chapter 601: Veres & Goldelm Part 2

Freya fiddled with the edge of her cloak. “I… I don’t know where to start. I, uh,” she took a deep breath and looked him in the eyes. “I need your help.”

Stryg nodded. “Right. Who do I need to kill?”

“What? No, I don’t need you to kill anyone.”

“Sure you do.”

“No, I don’t.”

“Is someone giving you problems?”

“Well, yes—”

“And you can’t outright stop them.”

Freya slumped her shoulders. “No, I don’t think I can.”

“Then you need me to kill them.”

She frowned. “No, Stryg. They’re my family, I don’t want to kill them.”

“Okay, I’m confused. You don’t want me to kill them because they’re your family, fair enough. But you do realize I’m not very good with family, right? I mean, I didn’t know my mother was alive until a few weeks ago.”

“Wait, your mom is alive? I thought you were an orphan.”

“Turns out both my parents are alive,” he muttered.

“Seriously? That’s great! Wait, does that mean there is another living Veres?” she leaned and whispered the last few words.

“Yeah, we have a lot to catch up on. For now, let’s focus on your problem. What exactly do you need my help with?”

Freya sighed. “It’s a long story. The short version is that my brother is vying for the Goldelm throne and my aunt is supporting him. Which would be fine, I never wanted the throne either way, but if my brother becomes lord then they are going to send me away to Frost Rim. I’ll basically be a prisoner in my aunt’s manor.”

Stryg blinked. “That’s the short version?”

Freya cracked a grin. “Where do I start?”

Gale pushed off the bar she was leaning from. “I’ll go find us some more drinks. Sounds like we’ll need it.”

~~~

“So Cedric named you heir after you inherited Oginum, even though your eldest brother Aric was your father’s named heir and now your tribe is split. Unfortunately, your aunt Ingrid, who seems to hold the most influence over your tribe, is supporting Aric; and both of them want to get rid of you.”

Frey shook her head, “They don’t want to get rid of me.”

“Your brother wants you gone, if not outright dead. You are a threat to him and that will never change because of that,” Stryg pointed to the golden hammer poking out from underneath her cloak.

“That doesn’t necessarily mean he wants to get rid of me,” she muttered.

Stryg gave her a flat look. “If your brother cared more about you and your well-being than becoming chief of the Goldelms then he would have relinquished his claim. Instead, he is still pushing, even though he knows that it will escalate to outright conflict and your death if he succeeds.”

“It won’t come to that. I’d rather give up my claim.”

“Exactly, because you’d rather not see your entire tribe suffer over the succession. That’s the difference between a good chieftain and a bad one.”

“Ignoring your colloquial terms for a moment, what does any of this have to do with my request?”

Stryg drummed his fingers on the bar, deep in thought. “Look, in my culture, the opposing chieftains-to-be wouldn’t get their sides involved. Instead, they would fight in one-on-one combat. The victor would become the chieftain.”

“And the loser?”

“They would be dead. That’s what combat is,” he said as if it was obvious. “A good leader would put their life on the line for their people. I know you would, you proved it during the siege, personally, I think that’s why Oginum chose you. The question is, would your brother do the same?”

Freya wasn’t sure, but she didn’t want to find out either. “Even if he did, I wouldn’t fight him.”

“So you’d rather give up your own freedom and be his prisoner for life?”

She glared at him. “That’s why I’m here, isn’t it? You talk with Ingrid and Aric, and push them to not send me away. Use your influence as Lord of House Veres to convince them to let me stay.”

“I could try and do that, but even if I succeeded it wouldn’t fix your problems.”

“Uh, yes it would,” she scoffed.

“No, it wouldn’t.”

Freya crossed her arms. “And why not?”

Stryg glanced at Gale who answered in his stead, “Because if you do manage to stay in Hollow Shade then you will be exactly what Ingrid feared, a threat to her nephew’s reign. Goldelm’s vassals would question his loyalty, while there would be some who would use your existence as an excuse to outright disobey Aric’s leadership, all the while hiding under the guise of being loyal to you. In the end, the blame would fall on you, resentment would grow, as would restlessness among the nobles. In the end, Aric and Ingrid would come to the same conclusion. They would need to get rid of you.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

“But Stryg would have talked to them, promises would have been made. My brother and aunt wouldn’t be able to send me away.”

“Exactly,” Gale replied. “If they can’t send you away, they only have one choice left. To kill you. Now, killing you outright would be problematic. You have many supporters and it would anger our short-tempered Lord Veres into potential war.”

This chapt𝓮r is updat𝒆d by ƒreeωebnovel.ƈom.

“Hey, I’m not short-tempered,” Stryg bared his teeth.

“See?” said Gale without missing a beat.

“So if they can’t kill me, then what?” mumbled Freya.

“Who said anything about that? No, they can’t kill you outright, as in publicly. They would resort to more underhanded methods. Assassins. Poison. The methods are practically endless. And since your enemies are under your same roof it would be difficult to predict and prevent all the threats on your life. Sooner or later, you would die.” Gale patted her shoulder, “Your aunt was right, leaving would be the best thing for you, if…”

Freya narrowed her eyes. “If what?”

“If you want to avoid any kind of conflict.”

“The truth is, you need to get rid of Aric,” said Stryg.

“I am not going to kill my brother,” Freya said adamantly.

“You don’t have to,” said Gale. “Unlike you, Aric is a cripple and more importantly, he doesn’t have Oginum. That hammer carries powers, its name alone has the weight to demand respect from the nobility. If Aric steps aside he won’t be a threat to your position. Sure, there will be a few who might grumble and try to use him as an excuse to undermine you, but their reasoning will sound weak to all those who hear it. You could easily put down any resistance. Aric couldn’t do the same if he was lord.”

“So what should I do?” Freya whispered.

“If you don’t want to kill him, which I think is the safest option—”

“Agreed,” interrupted Stryg.

“Imprisonment and exile are your next best bets,” finished Gale.

“You’d have the support of the Veres and Gale on your side,” said Stryg.

“I don’t know if I can do that,” Freya admitted. “Aric isn’t a bad person. No, he’s a good person. Even if we’re on the opposite side of the succession, he is still my brother.”

“Brothers and sisters kill each other for a chance at power, it isn’t uncommon,” said Gale grimly.

Freya shook her head, “I wouldn’t expect a Gale or Veres to understand. House Veres has been filled with bloodshed for centuries.”

“We didn’t have Krikolm before, now we do,” Gale glanced pointedly at the sword hanging from Stryg’s hip. “You have Oginum. Stop running from the responsibility that carries. Use it to stop any more conflict within your House.”

Freya sighed and finished her ale. “Thanks for the drink. I have to go.”

Stryg watched her leave in silence.

Gale nudged his shoulder, “What’s on your mind, my lord?’

“This might be the second time.”

“Second time?”

“I get my friend’s family killed.”

“What are you saying?”

“If Freya chooses to leave Hollow Shade I won’t stop her. If she wants me to speak in support of her staying I will. But if her brother or aunt tries to hurt Freya I will kill them both myself.”

“That sort of individual action on your part could lead to war between the Ruling Houses.”

“Why should that matter to a god? I’ll deal with the consequences.”

Gale stared at him uncertainly. Stryg wasn’t mortal, that much was certain. He was different from the rest of them. Ever since his discovery of his divine heritage, he was struggling with what it all meant. She worried he was internalizing it negatively.

“I thought you were a goblin,” she smiled weakly.

Stryg recalled the memories of his great-grandmother; the wasteland the Calamites had left on the battlefield. “A goblin might not be enough to protect the ones I care about,” he muttered. Stryg leaped off the barstool and made his way to the door.

“Where are you going?” Gale called after him.

“To heal that girl from earlier, remember? Isn’t that what Freya and you wanted?”

Gale let out a tense breath she hadn’t realized she’d been holding. “Right.”

“Do you not want me to?” He asked curiously.

If he felt guilty for what he had done he was doing an excellent job of hiding it. She had almost forgotten how little Stryg cared for anyone outside his tribe and people or how relentless he became if anyone endangered those among the tribe. “No, let’s go and find her.”

He nodded. “She’s not far, I can smell her blood.”

Gale flicked her tongue out and tasted the night air. “So can I.”

~~~

Freya waited atop the Shade Wall, overlooking the orange sky as the sun rose between the green hills on the horizon. The guards had turned a blind eye to Lady Goldelm when she had requested to take a walk on the wall.

She had received an anonymous letter this morning telling her to meet here at sunrise. Though the letter had no signature, she recognized the peculiarly meticulous handwriting. There was only one person she knew who wrote every line and stroke with such stubborn precision.

A pair of heavy footsteps resounded behind her. Freya turned around, “What did you want to talk about—? You’re not Stryg.”

She stared up at a giant draped in a dark cloak that obscured all their features. With slow movements, they reached up with black gloves and pulled down their hood.

Freya’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion. “It’s you…”

“Forgive me for the confusion. I had my uncle write the letter,” said Atlas.

“Your uncle?”

“I believe you know him as Stryg.”

“Stryg is your uncle. Not your nephew?” The dwarf eyed the giant drow with an air of skepticism.

Atlas grinned wryly. “When your family lives as long as mine, familial ties can seem somewhat strange.”

“Right, vampires and all that, but you don’t look like a vampire.” Freya stopped herself. Stryga Veres didn’t look like a traditional vampire either and this man standing in front of her was clearly a dire.

“I’m from the paternal side of the family. My mother is Stryg’s sister.”

Stryg had a sister!? He had forgotten to mention that part during their last few encounters. Freya reminded herself that they really needed to catch up properly, preferably soon if her aunt was to have her way.

“Why are you here? Is Stryg not coming?” Freya asked.

“He is not. I overheard your— ‘problem’ last night when he came home and spoke with my mother. I wanted a chance to get to speak with you.”

“I remember you… The night of the siege, you spoke with my father. Does this have something to do with that?”

“Something like that. Allow me to introduce myself.” He pulled his cloak back and did a formal bow. “I am Atlas Holoson, but I was born Prince Atlas of the Great House of Thorn, son of King Atreus Thorn, the Last Ebon Lord.”

Freya's eyes went wide and she stumbled back a step. “Y-You… You’re the prince who disappeared. You’re the heir…”

He smiled softly, “More importantly I was close friends with your ancestor, Lord Sylas Goldelm, the last true wielder of Oginum. I was hoping you and I could talk.”