King Ronan's POV
The amount of papers on the table diminished by the minute, as King Ronan read and signed through them. They went from simple pleas to the baptism of a new newborn child to orders of execution of dangerous prisoners.
While being the King meant one would have power, prestige, wealth and glory, the price for it was way too high. Deciding upon life and death, war and peace, was not a task to be taken lightly.
Ronan sighed, feeling a weight on his chest after signing the order for a man to be killed. The criminal in question had murdered another man because of such a trivial thing as having wine spilled on his clothes at a tavern.
— Why people seek to feed hatred and revenge this much, I hope I will never understand.
But the fact that it had happened through the whole of history and would continue to happen as long as humanity existed, of that Ronan was sure.
After all, he had been living with the guilt of crafting himself a weapon for 25 years, in case the peace treaty was broken.
Forty-two years ago, when Ronan was still ten years old and the Heir Prince to the Kingdom of Kozhar, his father, the late King Henfer advised him during one of their political teaching meetings:
— Listen, Ronan. We have been in a peace treaty for more than two hundred years, it is true. But you must be aware, now and when you become the king. It is not because the Three Kingdoms of the Caya continent have not had a real war since the fall of the Cian people that it is never gonna happen.
— We can… really, get into war? My tutor said the kingdoms had only gotten into small bickerings, until now.
— Hear, we have only shared a few sanctions, political clashes in times of difficulties like drought, floodings, plagues and diseases; at most, some small battles between border states. But this is not all that can happen. — His father had a distant gazing. — As long as humanity sees lands, money and armies as power, and as long as we see power as something we should pursue unconditionally and unlimitedly, no treaty can be trusted blindly. Someday, a real, uproar war can happen.
King Henfer stared at his son again.
— So always stay alert. Do not forget that we, red-blooded humans, once lived in peace with the Cian people. Until we started to, rightfully, fear their cursed power… — He lowered his head, looking ashamed. — And eliminated them forever.
After that conversation, Ronan started to study more and more about the history of the Continent. He read detailed papers on Kozhar, Lang and Behrman royal families' trees, the Three Cayan Kingdoms' Treaty Piece, the previous bickering among them and the story of the Cian people.
Mostly, the books would only go on about how terrifying, cruel, murderous and stupidly strong the Cian people were and how hard but righteous it was to beat them all. It was hard to find a lot about the times when red and blue blooded people were friendly towards each other. Ronan wanted to know how things were, what changed. What kind of grand terrible move could the Ciani have orchestrated that had disrupted both peoples' harmony to the point that one group decided to wipe the other's traces from the world?
Growing up, though, Ronan learned that it did not need to be a grand, terrible move, and also needed not be orchestrated.
Humans killed each other based on their decisions. And those decisions could be made from something big, such as trying to save their families from an intruder's invasion, or something quite small and insignificant.
Like having their clothes stained with wine that was accidentally spilled.
And, like that, Ronan realized that, maybe, the humans just started to fear someday the Cian people could enslave them like they did to people or cattle. Just because they were stronger, faster, more resilient, and, on top of it all, magically gifted.
Though the records said that not all Ciani was especially skilled in magic, all of them would show some magic inclination as a child and go through an awakening at around 15, from when they would be able to perform some spells, which strength and type would vary from each individual.
The more Ronan studied, the more he wanted to know about those people and the characteristics of their blood, their magic and physical power.
He read all the books in the Kozhar Royal library, then he got access to the Church of Kozhar's library and read everything he could find there that mentioned the Ciani as well. Then, on his visitations to the Behrman's palace, he sneaked to their library and got to read a book or two. Then the same in Lang's Kingdom. He took every opportunity he could to learn more.
At first, it was only curiosity, then, it became an obsession.
He did not even know why he gulped down all that knowledge about a long lost race. He just could not stop himself from doing so. Whenever he found time in between his obligations as the Heir Prince, he would go through his notes, as all the books on the matter in the continent were by far finished by him.
Then, he got married, at 22, and had Rhavi one year later. At that moment, he realized that giving so much attention to a crazy research would not be beneficial to his new family, nor his future as the King.
Especially since his wife had become a lot more fragile after the birth.
Months went by, and her health was becoming even weaker. Though not too many people knew of her condition, since it was not that showing, he knew that she could not survive many years, much less bear another child.
Since his love for Irna was so deep, Ronan could not handle the idea of losing her. He tried everything he could, from better food to medicine, to a cleric's blessings. She was still in condition to go to the banquets, but that would require her to stay in bed the whole day after. She could still meet the ladies of court to tea, but then she would have headaches and nausea for the rest of the afternoon.
One day, three months after Ronan's father passed away, leaving the throne to him, Irna took Ronan's hand when they woke up, smiling at each other.
— My king… I had a curious dream. — She started.
— What was it about?
— Someone… a woman. She was pregnant. Heavily. She wore a cape with a hood, so I could not see her face well. She then said to me that I should not resent the child… and suddenly she was holding the baby. And she gave it to me.
— Resent a child? — Ronan frowned. — What happened after it?
— She told me… that I could find a cure in the child. That his… blood would heal me. And then she lifted her hood and I saw her eyes. They were of an intense, brilliant red, like no other eyes could be. Not human's, at least.
— Red…? — Ronan asked, feeling a cold shiver down his spine.
— Yes. They were different from any red shade I have ever seen, too.
— I see… Was she… frightening?
She curled her lips and shook her head.
— Actually, I did not fear her even for a minute. I was just really curious and confused.
— And then after she showed you her face?
— Well… I think I heard her say something else, but I was distracted by the sound of the sea.
— The sea? But there's no sea anywhere near us. The closest coastal town is a month away from here. Have you ever been to the sea?
— No… But I knew the sound of it, because my father went there. He brought me a big shell and told me to listen to its inside. He said they sound like the sea.
Ronan blinked, confused.
— So, you heard the sea in your dream. Could you see anything else?
— A stoneface… with an octopus design. It was located in between big mountains that surrounded the place we were in.
An octopus?
Red eyes could be a coincidence. But the octopus?
They were the symbol of the Cian people, since, just like them, they had blue blood.
But did Irna know about this? He doubted. That kind of knowledge was not that vastly disseminated. No one cared about the history of the Cian, they only thought they were cursed, evil and dangerous. And with blue blood.
— Was there anything else?
— No… not that I remember.
Ronan was deep in thoughts, frowning, trying to find sense out of his wife's dream.
Normally, he would dismiss such foolish things as dream interpretation, but in this case, he could not help but try to find a meaning that could lead to improving her health and, who knows, even saving her life.
— Ronan, my love. What is it? It was just a dream. I know I said I am curious, but… you seem so worried.
— Noth… nothing, my dear. I just got quite involved in the scenery of your dream. It is indeed curious… you should go back to sleep. It is still early.
— Hum… Maybe I will. Please, hug me until I fall asleep.
— Sure, my love. — She turned her back and tucked herself in his embrace.
— Please, do not leave me.
— I would never even think about it, my precious. I am right here by your side. Forever.
— I love you, my king.
— I love you more, my queen.
A few days passed and Ronan found himself again deep in researching. This time, he was looking at maps.
— Your majesty, he's here. — His secretary announced.
— Let him in.
The man entered. Low stature, but broad shoulders and steady legs. A polite, but not exactly friendly face. He seemed to bear no danger, but also didn't seem exactly honored or happy to be in the presence of the King.
— Your majesty. — Greeted the man with a half bow. — I'm Ifrain. I heard you ca'd me.
— Yes, Ifrain. It is good to make your acquaintance. — The King rose from his seat and showed Ifrain a chair, gesturing for him to sit. — So, I heard that you are a great sailor captain.
— People tal' too much, my king. If you don' min' me sayin'.
— Well… I am pretty sure you have earned at least a bit of all this fame, Ifrain. I actually called you here because I need you.
— For wha', your majesty? I'm jus' a humble sail'r.
Ronan frowned, trying to follow with the man's contractions.
— I need to learn everything you know about all the islands you have been to. — The King rose up again and went to his table, showing Ifrain the maps. — Please, firstly circle the ones you have never been to.
Ifrain rose and stared at the map for a long time until he finally circled one island.
— This, your majesty. I believe all the other ones are known to me.
— I see… is there a reason why you have never gone there?
— Sea too dangerous. No civilization that we know of. No commerce, no interest.
— No civilization, you said… I see. Have you ever… passed by it?
— Now and then, from afar.
— How is it, on the island? Is it… plain? Many trees, mountains?
— Like any empty island, I'd say. Lots of trees. Big mountains. Not too much to see.
— I know… How dangerous is the sea?
— I heard a few ships go'there. To explore.. But the crew said that, when they boar'd off, everyone felt fear, then they left.
— Fear? … They retreated after facing a dangerous sea because… of fear?
— They said 'twas not jus' fear, your majesty. They felt terrified. Like facing death in the eyes.
Ronan frowned, deeply curious and intrigued.
— I see… Ifrain, I have a request.
— Say it, your majesty. I am no man to disobey my king's order.
— I need you to find me a trusting crew that is willing to take me to this place. And I also need someone who is skilled in walking through woods and mountains.
— Your majesty… I'm really no man to disobey you, but… I don't think 'tis gonna be possible. Not many men are willing to get on a boat and go there, but even fewer will offer themselves to explore those woods.
— I will pay each one generously. Better. I will pay their families, so they can leave with the guarantee that the money will not be lost to the sea or the island, in any case.
— Well… 'tis still not gon' be easy, but… I'll do what I can. But, your majesty… may I ask why do you wan' go there?
— I am afraid I cannot tell you this yet, Ifrain.
— No prob, your majesty. The sea asks not many questions, and nor do I, as a sea man. I'll gather your crew.
— Thank you Ifrain. I will be looking forward to the news.