I, Crown Prince Gilbert Hans Wilhelm Beilschmidt of Aytr was trying to kill someone. A very annoying, snobbish someone.

Head Academics Professor Roderich Edelstein. The snooty, obnoxiously smart professor selected by my own mother to teach me in the so called noble art of ruling an ever-expanding empire. While the professor was certainly knowledgeable, he was also, in my own words, "A massive, eggheaded, snobby, not-awesome nobody."

Prof. Roddy hadn't appreciated that. He was now currently heading to the throne room out of outrage that I'd supposedly caused him by having my super awesome companion scare the bejesus out of him. I was now trying to kill or at least maim my teacher so he couldn't tell my parents about everything. He knew too much.

I snuck around the corner, peering into the grand atrium that led into the even grander throne room. Dammit. Roddy was already inside. I ran sneakily to the door, waved to the guards on duty today, and entered. When I entered, I saw something I wished I'd never seen.

A boy about 15, 2 years younger than me, was on his knees in front of my mother, Queen Hedvika Libuše Jelínková and my father, King Jakub Michal Filip Murgaš. My Mother looked down at the boy with a cold, apathetic stare, her face as forgiving as marble. 

"Ludwig. How nice of you to drop by, especially after I-"

"Mother, I didn't mea-"

"Silence. You, you traitor, call me Mother even after you slaughtered your own brethren, our citizens, destroyed the carefully crafted pact the Silerians and I were negotiating with the Hisquans, and nearly killed your own brother. Have you no shame, Ludwig? We exiled you from Aytr 4 years ago for a reason, and yet, here you are, on your knees, pleading for forgiveness. The king and I are appalled at your appearance. You're lucky we haven't executed you on the spot yet."

Father placed his hand on Mother's. "Dear, I get that your mad. Believe me. I'm furious too. But we cannot execute this boy, even if he executed many of his own. Killing him would lead to anarchy at least. We can exile him permanently however. That'll be the best possible thing. Also, why is he here?" I saw that Father was pointing at Roderich. Dammit. I was screwed.

But, before ol' Roddy could say anything, Mom saved me. Sorta. "Oh look, it's Gilbert. Come in, son."

I did. I feared Mother when she got like this. Usually she was the naggy, hot headed one and Father was the serious yet easy going one(weird combo, I know) but now it was different. Mom looked ready to murder.

 Mom looked between me and Ludwig. "Gilbert, I assume that by Roderich's appearance here, you've completed your lesson for ruling."

Roderich looked appalled but didn't say anything.

"So, I'm going have you escort this traitor to the farthest country away from our own, and make sure he stays there. Roderich will escort you both."

Ludwig looked up at Mother, and for the first time in 4 years, I saw his face. It was worn and scarred, too much for a regular traveler or 15 year old. While he looked starved in the face, he still had built up quite the muscles in his 4 years of exile. I pitied my younger brother, but if anyone knew the truth of what went down the night before his exile, Mother would have both our heads. Neither of us wanted that, so Ludwig took the brunt of the blame. "Queen Hedvika, I ask for the Honor Code to be put in place at this moment."

Everyone gasped. The Honor Code was a code any citizen of Atyr could ask for if they felt they had a way of redeeming themselves for a crime. The code allowed the citizen 2 years to do any task their master or jailer gave them. If they weren't successful, exile was the lightest punishment. And death wasn't the worst. The worst was being sent to work til your death in the deepest of the coal mines while being tortured after work. Most didn't survive after a week. 

Father looked at Ludwig, his face as cold now as Mother's. "Very well. I've heard recently from one of our scribes that there is a legend of a mage known as the Yammoni that appears in one of the 7 countries every 347 years, and lives 345 years before dying for 2. The last record of his birth is from 1432, which is exactly 347 years ago. The Yammoni can perform all types and forms of Magic, making him/her practically invincible for whichever side he/she's on. Find him/her, and bring them back to Atyr alive. They'll still be weak in their current incarnation, so we can hopefully educate him/her of our noble ways before any of the resistance corrupts him/her. You have 2 years, and may bring 1 companion. Be warned that if your compainon dies, you'll face an even worse fate than if you fail. Do you still accept?"

Ludwig breathed in deeply before looking at Father. The resolve in his clear blue eyes was clear. "I'll do it. And my companion shall be Gilbert, my brother. Farewell Mother, Father, for I shall not see either of you again in 2 years. I shall restore my honor!"

Ludwig gently grabbed me by my hand, and led me out in the atrium. As I walked out, I could see that Roderich had lost his resolve to snitch on me. Ha. Take that, piano brain. As soon as Lud and I were alone, we hugged. I breathed in the familiar scent of machine oil and beer. Lud still smelled like Lud. 

"It's so good to have you back West."

"You too East."

"Where do you plan on going first? Our kingdom?"

"Nein. I plan on going to the Icra Kingdom, because there is the trade center of the world other than the Cylua Kingdom. And where there's trade, there's gossip."

"Good idea West. How're we gonna get there though?"

"The Atyrs of course."

"Not those!"

"Yep. I know you hate birds Gil, but Aytrs are the most efficient way to travel long distance. Believe me, I know."

"Gahhhhh! Fine...."

"Great! I'm going to go gather more supplies. You pack. We leave at dawn."