Visperia revealed:(Pseudo self RP) for Lost Age (FanT)

[Visperia (Ancient)]

Clearly shone the sun upon the mountain of the Eyrie and the city that climbed and pierced the mountainside. Stained glass and polished stone and gilded domes sparkled like jewels against the dark green of the surly pines and the frowning granite. See it, and see it well. It is Visperia, the city of the West, and the beating heart of the kingdom that is, and the empire that will be.

Crown Prince Caius tapped his foot impatiently as the lift rose...infinitely slowly...in his opinion...up the shaft towards the upper levels. To his right, the many-tiered city flashed past like the dream of a mad poet. Ivy-grown towers and soaring temples and noble houses of the rich mining magnates who made their homes here.
"I don't see why father wants to talk now. Why can't I just stay in the Campus and play, Marcellus?" The child looked up at the tall guardsman who stood at his side. Marcellus glanced back at the curly-haired young princeling,who just barely rose to the guardsman's elbows. He crossed his arms and favored the boy with a suitably stern glance, the leather of his armor and kit creaking ever so slightly.
"I don't know, highness, but a good son obeys his father and doesn't complain. Especially a prince of the Phoenix Lord."
Caius grimaced. Anything but that answer again. He stared for a moment at the imposing guardsman of the Wolf Pack in his leather armor, the great war axe slung across his back, the bone-hilted sword at his side, and then...stuck out his tongue.
"Your highness!" Marcellus gasped, equal parts exasperated and amused. "That is unbecoming."
"I can't stick my tongue out at Father, so if you're going to act like him..."
"Ai! Get back here!" Marcellus halfheartedly grabbed for the prince as the lift smoothly and silently reached its destination and the door snapped open. He shivered slightly as he stepped out of the lift onto the roofed causeway. The winds at this height were bitterly cold, and the sides of the walkway were open.
Prince Caius was waiting at the
The boy was waiting at the great bronze door to the audience chamber. Twenty feet high, the engraved doors showed the Epic of the Phoenix Lord in relief. Marcellus knew the doors were old, but never knew how old. The uppermost tiers of the city dated from only a few hundred years after the Great Unification. He paused to straighten his uniform, halfheartedly ruffle the Prince's unruly blond curls in an attempt to make him look presentable, and then stepped forward. The doors swung open silently under a powerful, if elementary, spell of opening. The cathedral roof of the room soared to a dizzying peak, wrought all around with swirling knots of silver and copper, and snarling dragon's heads that veined the marble. It was a place to bedazzle and intrigue the eye.
His Majesty Achilleus III, Phoenix Lord of Visperia, was seated hunched in his throne, as though under great weight of care. He turned to look as the doors opened. His back straightened and his smile grew when he saw the Prince.
"Father, what is it?" Caius said, after making a small perfunctory bow.
"I have a problem I think you can help me solve." Achilleus said, gesturing to the chair that already occupied the center of the marble floor. The prince sat, and then waited expectantly for a moment while the Phoenix Lord gathered his thoughts.
"Your uncle Maximus runs a ranch in the great plains. But he has a difficulty. Coyotes and wolves have been making off with his stock. He needs a sturdy young archer to ride herd on his cattle and keep them safe. What do you think? You'll be able to visit your cousins and learn some horseback archery."
"May I?" Marcellus could hear the eagerness in the boy's voice even as he stood behind him, arms folded in parade rest.
"Of course. That's why I'm telling you to go. Of course, Marcellus would have to go with you. And you would need to listen to him."
"Of course! Oh thank you papa!" The Prince leapt off his chair and seized his father in an embrace.
The Phoenix Lord returned the hug with gentle strength. He looked at Marcellus only once, but the golden eyes drilled him with one thought alone.
keep my son safe

[Visperia (Ancient)]

The light mail vessel was a trim ship, her spell-bound horizontal sails neatly trimmed to provide maximum lift, the lines coiled neatly, each in their place on the pristinely scrubbed deck. The captain, a Sea Elf whose given name was Maximus Adrianaticus, was a surly, quiet man, who briefly shook hands with Marcellus and nodded at the Prince before going about his duties. The ship surged away from the causeway at which it had docked, and they were flying.
Caius clung to the starboard rail, watching in rapture as the city in which he had spent most of his life became tiny and pulled away. Marcellus grinned. Flying never grew old for small boys, although he knew the Prince had been on a spellship before. The mountain peaks rose around them like mighty sentinels on watch. A bitterly cold wind gusted across the deck and the Prince shivered. Marcellus set his hand on the boy's shoulder.
"Let's go belowdecks, we can watch from the command gondola." Caius nodded eagerly, and Marcellus let him go first down the narrow companionway into the hold. Belowdecks was neatly appointed, if tight. Bunks for the crew lined the space. A desk for navigation, maps and charts all over it. A table for food and drink. Another companionway descended to the glass-walled gondola.

[Visperia (Ancient)]

A Day Later, Falconsbeak Pass

"Wow." The Prince's face was glued to the glass of the aft-facing porthole, watching the mountains drift slowly away as the ship moved out over the great plains that stretched across the distance between the craggy mountains with their dark, pine-clad foothills and the river Flemenaria.

Marcellus finished the apple he had been eating and clambered up to the main deck to drop the core off the side, the only really effective way to get rid of rubbish on such a small aircraft. He stretched, the wind now only refreshingly cool as they descended out of the frigid highlands. There were no other ships in sight. Strange. Although hardly the most popular route out of the mountains, Falconsbeak had its fair share of traffic, especially on a sunny, mild day like today. Taking meat and produce from the plains, hauling metal goods out to the scattered holdings of the great and lesser Ranchers from the mountain foundries and mines. And mail vessels like this one.

Some sixth sense caused him to reach for his sword before the man grabbed him from behind, trying to wring his neck. Man. A human man, the Low Elf realized, even as he evaded his grappling hands and whirled around, the blade of his shortsword catching the hapless human in the torso and ripping him open. He fell with a shriek, but there were five others on deck, elves and Men alike, crowding him suddenly. The blade of his sword rang and sparked on a coat of ring-mail, and someone snarled a curse. His arm was grabbed and the sword ripped from his grasp. They simply piled onto him, the narrow space of the deck giving him no room to wield his weapon.
The Prince! Where is the Prince? the thought seared into his brain just before something smashed into his head and he knew no more.

[Visperia (Ancient)]

Marcellus drifted slowly and painfully back into consciousness. The roof above him was roughly planed from logs. A cabin, then. Or some Rancher's fortified steading. Who would commit this madness?
The leering face that loomed above him instantly answered all his questions. Marcion. The older man smirked even more when he saw Marcellus's look of distasteful recognition. Mockingly, he tipped the brim of his rancher's hat in false deference.
"Why, the Captain of the Guard awakes. How does it go, Oh mighty warrior of the Wolf Pack?"
Marcellus spat blood, gratified to see the man flinch. "You will bring down the wrath of Hades itself on your head. Banditry and sedition is one thing, but this..."
"...is the King's son? The child of the Phoenix Lord? Oh, I know. And there are hordes of potential buyers for a young heir to the crown."
"You will not succeed."
"Shut up, please."
Something was pressed to his face and he knew no more.