Vilfred

Women screamed and children ran as the winged guardsmen stormed through the city streets with their Pegasi, sweeping everything on their way. Market stalls were torn down to the ground, goods burnt, humans trampled.

Mounted regally atop his Pegasus, Vilfred suppressed a smirk of triumph as he now walked where Mikal should have, followed by a dozen of Mikal's guards. His own guards now.

"There is nothing here as well, my lord," Brad, who became Vilfred's personal guard, said as he and his men came out from another house, again failing to find anything of value.

"Next. Keep searching," Vilfred ordered his men.

When more than one thousand pieces of gold were discovered missing from the treasury earlier that morning, Bernard called for urgent council, summoning every guard in the castle. And soon, it was known where the gold had gone. It was no secret that Lucian had been going out to the city frequently during Bernard's absence, giving out gold to the humans. And so, Bernard had given orders to Vilfred to capture each and every filthy human that had been seen with Lucian.

"This one seems deserted," Brad said as they stood before an old tavern in a quiet side alley, studying the dust covered wooden door.

"Just get inside," Vilfred said and again the men broke inside. It was almost deserted indeed, as they found nothing except for a harmless drunk man sitting alone at a broken wooden table, and a terrified tavern owner standing with his hands raised in surrender behind an empty bar.

"Search the cellar," Vilfred ordered, but his men seemed to hesitate as they looked with unease towards the dark narrow staircase. Vilfred only gave them one long stare, and they quickly, though unwillingly, casted Angel Light to find their way downstairs. 

Vilfred remained upstairs, listening to the loud cries and struggles that echoed below. A short while later, Vilfred's men returned with seven wingless men and a woman.

"This girl was seen with Lucian quite often," one of the guards said as he pulled the woman before Vilfred, but Vilfred did not care to look at her. Instead, his eyes were narrowed at one of the men whose face he knew very well. Liam the Blacksmith. And Vilfred knew at once that there was more to Lucian giving out gold to the humans than merely helping them. And Liam was behind it all.

"Did you find anything else down there?" Vilfred asked Brad, while his eyes were still narrowed at Liam.

"No, my lord."

"Alright. Burn the place," Vilfred simply said before he turned to go outside.

"No! My lord please," the tavern owner squealed only briefly before he was silenced by Brad's sword. And Vilfred could hear the crackling of rising flames behind him as he and his men led the eight prisoners away.

"Take them to the castle," Vilfred ordered his men. "Brad, Gustav, you two come with me."

Leaving the prisoners to the rest of the guardsmen, Vilfred flew with Brad and Gustav towards the outskirts of Nordenvania. They passed above a few barren hills covered in dead trunks and tangled branches of leafless trees. Far in the distance, beyond the desolate stretch of hills, a lone house stood in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by an even more desolate barrenness. Only a few blackened trees stood scattered around like ancient guardians that looked both weak and useless.

Vilfred dived towards Liam's house, followed by his two guardsmen. As he expected, no one was there. Inside the house, it was almost as unpleasant as its surroundings. Long cracks crawled up the grey walls and debris covered the tables and floor.

Vilfred frowned at the amount of equipment and steel that lay packed in every corner of the house. The forge was still hot as red embers blazed in its bed, indicating that workers had been in there until very recently. The large table next to the forge was loaded with swords and daggers and other weapons, some old and broken, others freshly made.

Vilfred was smart enough to tell this was not simply a flourishing business of sword making. Connecting the secret shady gathering earlier in that dark cellar, along with the questionable number of weapons in Liam's house, and the fact that Liam was connected to the humans whom Lucian had been giving gold to, Vilfred was quite certain that Liam was up to trouble.

Two long benches at the opposite side caught Vilfred's attention. They were loaded with large heaps of a spear-like weapon, but it was not exactly a spear. Vilfred approached the long benches to closely examine the uncommon weapon, a long sturdy bolt with a deadly pointed end made of obsidian demon stone. Then his narrowing eyes caught another peculiar structure on the floor before his feet. 

Vilfred knelt down to the floor, inspecting the structure more closely, a long wooden frame with a metal trigger at one side and a metal bow attached at the front. He could see two more of the same structure hiding beneath the bench. Vilfred's eyes narrowed dangerously, as it dawned on him. The three strange wooden structures lying on the floor were western crossbows. Three deadly western crossbows! Liam the bastard!

Vilfred quickly got up to his feet and looked around him. "Search the fucking house! Every fucking inch of it!" he ordered urgently, and his men though puzzled, obeyed at once. 

Vilfred too searched with them, starting with the cellar. It was even darker and greyer than the main floor, the air thick with dust and the heavy suffocating smell of wood. He found a few broken wooden frames, a couple of chisels, a hand saw, and other tools obviously meant for carpentry, all scattered around the floor. But he could not see a single crossbow. Vilfred was furious. There must be hundreds of those fucking crossbows hidden somewhere, but no matter how much he and his two guardsmen searched, they could not find a single one. One thousand pieces of gold were definitely not spent just to make the three crossbows he had found upstairs.

"Keep searching!" Vilfred snapped as Brad told him over and over that they have searched the whole house, all three floors, and still found nothing. "Search again. They must be hidden somewhere. Search every inch of the walls and floors. Look for any gaps or secret doors. Take the whole house apart if you must!" And again they searched. And again they found nothing. Then it dawned on him that perhaps the crossbows were not here at all.

"My lord," Gustav's voice echoed down from the cellar. "I think I found something."

Without a second thought, Vilfred rushed down the narrow staircase and back into the cellar, where he found Gustav kneeling on the ground, looking down another narrow staircase that had been apparently hidden beneath a secret doorway on the floor. Another cellar beneath the cellar.

Despite the darkness and suffocating narrowness, Vilfred forced himself down the stairs, following a flickering sphere of pale blue light, his pair of large wings barely fitting through the tight opening. He held his breath as the musty air grew thicker, and as he raised the light sphere higher within the pitch black darkness, he could finally see them.

Hundreds of long wooden crossbows. And more and more hundreds of long deadly bolts.

Vilfred's eyes darkened. Lucian was not giving gold to help some impoverished humans. Lucian was giving gold to finance rebels. And Liam was their leader.

***

Vilfred held back a smirk as he stood next to Bernard in the courtyard, watching his men as they delivered hundreds of crossbows into the castle. Bernard stood utterly dumbfounded, wearing the same awestruck expression he used to wear whenever Mikal suggested another brilliant idea or made a breathtaking revelation. 

Vilfred had merely gone out to capture some human beggars who dared take gold from Lucian, only to come back with the discovery of an outrageous rebellion scheme, along with the existence of hundreds of crossbows hidden in the blacksmith's house. An unspeakable horror that no one would have known about before it was too late. Vilfred's discovery today had just saved the North from an upcoming disaster that would have not been less horrible than the Kassarathi attack three years ago. 

And today, Vilfred was marked the new savior of the North... 

It was late in the evening when Vilfred headed back to his room, a light smirk playing at the corner of his lips. It was ultimately gratifying, taking Mikal's place in every aspect. 

The sound of sobbing caught his attention as he passed through the long corridor, coming out of Mikal's room. He sighed. It had been a few days already since the men returned from Grytia, and his mother had not left Mikal's room. She had not spoken to anyone, not even Vilfred. But she never had anyway. Vilfred stood hesitating for a moment, before he opened the door.

"How are you, mother?" he asked, frowning in reproach rather than sorrow.

"You have the face to come here and ask me, how I am?" Aurora turned at Vilfred with eyes full of fury. "Why haven't you protected him? How could you... let this happen? You were supposed to save him!"

"Why mother? I was busy fighting too. I was busy saving my own self from death too!"

"How could you be so selfish?"

"Selfish! I am selfish?" Vilfred could no longer keep quiet. His face twisted with a dark scowl. "And your dear Mikal was the selfless saint? Everything I have ever done was for his sake! Ever since we were little children! He was the only one showered with all your love and attention, taking the best of everything, all for himself, and I was the one who had to selflessly dedicate my whole existence just to stand by his side and protect him. Because I was his big brother!" Vilfred clenched his fists, jealousy and fury eating at his heart. "But shouldn't it have been the opposite? I am the elder son! I should have been in his place. Yet... I have lovingly given up everything for his sake, accepting to always remain a shadow in the dark. All for that spoilt little brat!"

Aurora's palm fell with a sudden slap against Vilfred's face.

"Don't you dare talk that way about your brother," Aurora hissed and Vilfred could only smile bitterly.

"I know that whatever I say, you will never love me like you loved him. I don't think I ever really existed in your world. You probably wish that it was me who died in battle instead of him, isn't that right?" Vilfred felt threatening tears rising in his eyes, while Aurora turned her face away. "Answer me! Isn't that right mother?" he yelled.

"Yes that's right! That's damn right!" she yelled back. Vilfred struggled to hold back his tears. He had known her answer already, but he didn't think that hearing it out loud would stab him so cruelly, right through his heart.

"Why do you hate me that much, mother? I have always tried to be a good son, and a better brother. And that's my reward?" He shook his head and smiled bitterly. "Perhaps it was my mistake after all, covering up for all his horrible mistakes all these years, making you believe he was indeed a faultless saint. But guess what mother, he was nothing but a selfish and treacherous liar!"

"I said don't speak that way of –"

"Stop defending him!" Vilfred yelled again. "You just know nothing! You know nothing! I am the one who had always been with him. I am the only one who knows his dirty secrets. He's not a fucking saint! I never wanted to tell you this... but, you know what? Perhaps you should know after all. Well, it was your beloved Mikal who caused father's death!"

"What... How dare you..." Aurora took a step backward in shock.

"I was there. I saw how it happened. I saw the blade that was piercing its way to Mikal's heart, I saw how father instantly leapt in before him and stood in the way, taking it in his own heart instead. All to save your beloved saint who thought battling the Kassarathi was another tournament game!"

"That's not true..." she could barely whisper.

"That's damn right true!" Vilfred shouted. "Father had warned him that he was not yet ready for such a major battle, and so have you. But because he was a spoilt brat who must have all his demands answered, he forced father to accept taking him. And while father should have been focusing on the battle, he was instead distracted by watching out for him, and ending up getting killed for his sake!"

"No...it can't be true..."

"But it is!"

"You are just a bitter and jealous liar!" Aurora cried, tears falling down her cheeks.

"I am not a liar," Vilfred's tears fell as well. "It is true. My father is dead because of Mikal!"

"Shut up! Shut up! He was not even your father!"

"What... did you say?" Vilfred was the one who stammered back in shock now as he blinked back at his mother.

"Ulrich was not your father," Aurora said, her voice deep with resentment.

"You have lost your mind!" Vilfred's lips curled upwards. He never thought his own mother would hate him that much, to the extent that she would make up such a horrible and cruel lie. She had definitely gone mad!

"Your father was a lowly bastard who only used me and threw me aside when he knew I was with child."

"You're lying," Vilfred's heart was racing madly now. It can't be true. Ulrich had always been his father. Vilfred was his firstborn, a Nordstrom, he had always been so.

"The night your father abandoned me I tried to put a sword through my heart before a gargoyle grave," Aurora continued as she stared ahead of her blankly, as if she were speaking to herself, "but Ulrich found me. He saved me." She smiled. "He was a true gentleman, honorable and kind. He offered to marry me right away, to save me from dishonor, and he promised to raise the unborn child as his own." Aurora fell to her knees, half laughing, half crying. "When I gave birth to you, he declared you his own true son, raising you under his own name."

"That's not true..." Vilfred said in a tear choked voice. "You are just saying that because you hate me."

"And why do you think I hate you in the first place?" she cried out hysterically. "It is because every time I see your face I am reminded of the bastard who used me and hurt me. But whenever I looked at Mikal..." her voice suddenly softened, "I was reminded of the honorable man who saved my life and loved me unconditionally."

"Does anyone else... know of this?" Vilfred asked, clenching his fists and struggling to keep his tears from falling again.

"Of course not. Ulrich was a true honorable man..." she looked ahead, smiling dreamily. "He kept to his promise and kept my secret all these years."

"Good..." Vilfred barely whispered, rather to himself, and his tears fell against his will. Even if he wanted to speak, he could not find his voice anymore. Without another word, he turned and left her.

Vilfred sat on the floor in the middle of his room, laughing bitterly while endless tears streamed down his face. He was a bastard son. He was indeed the bastard son after all! It made sense. It all made sense now. Why Mikal, although younger, had always been favored. Why Mikal although younger, was the one chosen as father's successor. It made perfect sense.

Vilfred laughed and laughed, his head thrown backwards and his eyes clouded with tears. He had laughed with Mikal many times before whenever their mother favored Mikal over him or whenever father preferred Mikal to join him on errands, and they would both joke that their parents did that because Vilfred was the bastard child. But little did he know that their little joke was not a joke after all. It was real. Vilfred was indeed the bastard child. That was why it always infuriated father so much when they joked that way. That was why father had always scolded them and forbidden them from ever speaking that word again. Because it was fucking true!

**********************************