Gifts

 

"Juram, get word to the young Duke that his heirs are ready to be born!" Orien screamed down the stairs to the teen in the kitchen.

"Right away," Juram responded. He opened the door of the house and made to run, but was stopped by what he saw.

"Back inside, boy. Your friends here will be joining you... well, what's left of them, that is." Juram looked around the front garden of the house to see a band of armed outlaws holding Boren up as he bled from quite a few wounds. Dansius was in worse shape, to the point that Juram could not tell from a glance if the young man still lived. Carzier's body lay at their feet, unmistakably dead. Tarel was the most shocking though. Not only was the teen bleeding from many wounds, but his turban was long gone and from what Juram could see, one of his cat ears had been cut off.

"What is this?" Juram demanded.

"Do not take such a heavy tone with us, boy," one of the men, the apparent leader snarled. "As you can see, it won't end well." As he spoke the last words, he gestured to Carzier's body with his sword, a sword that Juram knew had belonged to the now dead teen. "Let us into the house, boy. We have our orders to hold you all so that our lady gets the cooperation of the war god Chrijo and the wizard Friezen."

"You do not know them well if you believe this will convince them to help you," Juram said, but he stepped inside and held the door for the gang of ruffians and his wounded friends.

"Understand, young one, that we have no orders to keep any of you alive once Chrijo and Friezen do as the Red Witch demands," the leader informed him as he dragged Boren into the house by what appeared to be a broken arm. "If you wish to live past that, you will need to be very hospitable and agreeable."

"Yes, sire, as you wish," Juram replied and bowed respectfully.

"Had your friends here been so accommodating they would be in better shape now," the man smiled.

"Sire, if I may?" Juram asked nervously. "Permit me to return upstairs to let our healer know that he is needed down here."

"We know of your healer, and his charge," the man told him. "Bring them both down here, and if the tiny wizard has returned here bring him as well."

"I swear on my own life, sire, we have not seen Ker, the little wizard, since he left with these others this morning."

"Should he appear to you, you will inform me at once," the man growled. "That little brat will die for his actions just as his brother died trying to protect him."

"May I ask what the Red Witch asks of old men who wish only to be left alone to live with their family?" Juram asked as he gestured for some of the men to sit in the main room of the Princess Grilda's home.

"HA!" the leader of the murderous gang scoffed. "You do not know whom we seek, little boy. Chrijo is the God of War, so powerful he defeated an entire army single handed at one battle. Friezen the Sorcerer has powers almost rivaling that of our queen, the Red Witch."

"How has that hag become queen?" Dansius coughed, spitting out blood as he spoke.

"Mind your tongue, before I cut it out," the leader snarled. "The White Witch has foully and viciously slain our good king, leaving his widowed lady, the Red Witch, as queen and ruler of all the realms. Her majesty seeks to keep the war god and the wizard from joining the ranks of her evil sister, the White Witch."

"I would say then that you have accomplished the precise opposite of her wishes, then," Juram snorted. "Know you not who these, your hostages are? The warrior cat you have grievously harmed is son to Chrijo and would perchance have spoken for your cause if you had but approached with diplomacy rather than steel."

"We knew well who we fought, fool," the man sneered. "You think the Red Queen so stupid to believe the lies of men who have lied to her before? We are to hold you hostage to enforce their agreement with her, and then once she has defeated her sister, the White Witch, you will all die that you cannot rise against her yourselves."

"As usual, my sister underestimates me, as well as the enemies she made in her youth." Everyone in the room able to do so turned to see a woman in pure white battle armor standing in the doorway to the kitchen. Beside her stood Chrijo and Friezen. None of them looked ready to surrender. Ker peeked out from behind Friezen's robes and poked his tongue out at the man who had been speaking.

In the battle that ensued, both inside and outside the house, the ruffians were dispatched, but at a high cost. Dansius and Boren both perished from their wounds, Boren flinging himself in front of Juram at one point, giving his life to save the one he loved. Before he could grieve his lover's loss, Juram heard a scream from upstairs and rushed to investigate. He got to the top of the stairs and found two men fighting Orien in the princess' bedchambers.

The eagle boy could not fully transform to fight at his best inside such a small room, although he had done his best to shield Grilda with his wings. One of the men threw daggers at him, pinning Orien to the wall by his wings. They were advancing on the bed, blades ready to kill when Juram entered the room. The teen attacked with his axe, but he could only fight one man at a time. Orien ripped himself free from the wall with a screech of pain and anger, but he was too late to save the life of the princess Grilda. He did however save the newborn twins.

Orien came down the stairs, holding the little ones in his arms, his wings still ripped and bleeding. Tarel rushed to the injured eagle boy's side. No one else in the room heard what he asked, but they didn't have to in order to understand the answer. "I couldn't save her."

"She and Dansius have the rest of eternity together, son," Chrijo said as he wrapped his arms around the winged boy. "We must take care of you. Perhaps the healer can teach us what we need to do?"

"Little ones come first," Orien whispered. "Can none of you see that Ker is seeking for his brother? Where is...?" His voice trailed away when he took in the expression on his lion's face.

"Ker, come talk with me, little warrior," Friezen called out.

"I must find Carz, Uncle," the little wizard replied. "He and I must go back to the mountain keep and.... Why do you look so sad, Uncle Friezen?"

"I followed these men from the mountain keep, small one," Jada, the White Witch stated as softly as she could. "They left nothing but rubble and none alive. Friezen is now the last wizard of the Great Citadel of Magic, and you, the last student. I honor those you have lost. My men and I will await outside. There is still much to do if we have any chance of stopping my sister."

"Mama? Auntie, all the others from the kitchens?" Ker whispered in horror. "But wait, Carz is still... he will avenge.... No, he won't, he can't 'cause he's gone too, isn't he?" His little voice broke away as he buried his face in the robes of his uncle and sobbed.

"Here now, my little one, let it all out, let your tears flow," Friezen whispered as he picked up the tiny child and held him to his chest, letting the boy weep on his shoulder. "Our family is avenged, my student, my son. These men were the last of the army that destroyed our home and those we love. They lie dead at our feet and we live. You fought very bravely my student. I am quite proud of you, my son."

"Your son?" Ker questioned.

"We are all that is left of our family, therefore it is time that you be called my son, as I have always regarded you in my heart, since I first laid eyes on you. Carzier was the son of your father in so many ways; a warrior, not a mage. You, however, you took after your mother and me. My sister was the only sorceress more powerful than me. Yvaige has always thought herself stronger than my sister and I, but she is mistaken. If my sister fell in battle, it was only because she gave herself to save another. You were born Heir to the Great Citadel, Ker. That has not changed, even if there is no longer a citadel to rule."

"High Lord Ker," Juram interrupted, as he sank to his knees in front of the two wizards. "I pledge my ax and my life to you and your heir, the mighty Friezen. I serve your family to my death as my family served the great lady in the keep."

"Uncle?" Ker whimpered unsure of the response to give Juram, as his training with his uncle had not yet included the formal interactions befitting his role as heir to the citadel.

"Do not touch him!" Juram suddenly screeched. "I will care for Boren."

"My dear friend, I only sought to arrange him more peacefully," Taren soothed. "I will stand guard over him and you as you say your final goodbye. Know that if I were in his place, I would feel honored for you to do the same for my eagle and me."

"You knew, didn't you?" Juram whispered.

"We all knew, brave one, but did you think we would not approve?" Friezen said as he walked up. "I, who love Chrijo with all my being, or our sons who only have eyes or thoughts for one another? Carzier knew and respected you both, as well. Any being that shames you for who you love has no understanding of it in themselves."

"Trust that only those who knew you well were aware, my friend," Tarel told the young man.

"We will honor your fallen love with you, aye, and take you with us as family as well, for from the first moment I laid eyes on your merry little band, I knew that you and Boren were every bit the elder brothers to young Ker as was Carzier, and the three of you younger brothers to Carzier, equal in his eyes and his heart," Chrijo told him. "In my heart, I have thought of you as one of my sons for some time. Now, I say it plainly to you. You are every bit the son to me as is Tarel, Orien, and Ker."

"Carz did always tell me that if he were not with me, you were my older brother in his place, and he said the same of you, Tarel," Ker sniffled as he hugged Juram.

"He told me the same, asking that should anything ever happen to him, I would take you both in as my brothers in fact as well as feelings," Tarel informed them. "We are now truly the family that we have been since we first met."

"With two unexpected additions," Orien pointed out. "Her highness the princess asked that should her husband fall in battle, and she die as well, Tarel and I would become her children's guardians until they are grown and can take their rightful places as Prince and Princess of the Realm."

"She wanted us to.... She wanted me to be.... I am a father?" Tarel actually squeaked as his voice had not done since the early days of his transition into manhood.

"I had not spoken of it to you, as I had hoped it would never come to be," Orien confessed. "If you do not feel...."

"My heart explodes with joy as equally as it breaks from the loss of our dear brothers. I am a man. I have a family," Tarel declared proudly.

"Wait a moment, if you are their father, and you are my brother, then that means...  I'M AN UNCLE!" Ker squealed loudly. "I will be the best uncle in all the realm. I get to be best because Uncle Friezen is now Papa and Grandpapa to the babies."

"Chrijo!" Friezen shrieked in distress. "We have grandchildren. I don't want to be old enough to have grandchildren."

Chrijo walked over and took the little girl and placed her in Friezen's arms. "Look into that tiny face and tell her that you are not her Grandpapa."

"Oh, you are a cruel man," the wizard fussed. He looked into the blinking little eyes of the child he held. "Do not listen to him, my darling. Grandpapa loves you, little angel. Now, let us go back and see your mummy and find you food and proper swaddling clothes."

"Papa, did you just call me her mummy?" Orien gasped in distaste.

"Of a truth, my hummingbird, you will fit the role far better than I," Tarel told him with a shrug. "Remember your own early days? Were it not for our mother, you would not have survived."

"You made for a fine father then and you will be even better now as you have our father as your teacher," Orien admitted. "That does not mean I have to like being called Mummy."

"As Friezen is our Papa, so you shall be Papa to our little ones," Tarel assured him.

"And I'm Uncle Ker," the little wizard boasted proudly. "I will be their favorite."

"Why do I not get to be the favored uncle?" Juram asked him pointedly.

"Because I'm more fun than you are," Ker told him, poking out his tongue impishly.

"You little rascal, you. Impudent little imp," Juram complained. He grabbed Ker and hugged him tightly, though. "You truly are the younger brother I have always wanted, and you always have been. Let us honor our dead now, my brother."

Within an hour's time, the home that had sheltered them for the short month they had been in the village was ablaze from magical fire created by both Friezen and Ker. It had been decided that burning the building with all their dead inside it would be the simplest way to honor their fallen, as well as to protect their remains from anyone who sought to use said remains for nefarious purposes.