Secrets revealed!

His head hurt, that much was readily apparent before his eyes opened. Waves of alternating numbness and aching pulsed through his skull. He most certainly had a concussion.

However when it was when he tried to sit up that he really understood just how much pain he was in.

“ARGH!”

Talleth collapsed back into his make shift bed, and even that motion was enough to set his skull pounding once more and the room spinning more then it had before.

A room?

‘Where am I?’ he wondered, looking around at the strange implements and books that filled the round office. Looking around, his eyes landed on a plaque on the wall. It read.

“To Cerion WaveRunner, on his appointment to Council of the Keep.”

Talleth began to laugh, even as that action brought immense pain to his head. It was obvious now what had happened, and ironic in the extreme. He was almost certain that neither Cerion nor Orion knew who he was, nor what it meant… yet it was blind luck that had brought them together for that first time. Well, that and some slippery roof tiles.

Even as the pain began to reside ever so slowly, Talleth wondered how he survived the fall from such a high tower. Nevertheless, he wasn’t one to question good fortune, or the provision of God, and he attempted to stand.

That proved to be disastrous, however on the third go he managed to remain standing without crumpling to the floor. The clock on the wall said he was late. He didn’t have much time.

***

“Really your Highness?” questioned Tricolum, looking with bemused surprise at the young man. “This is most unusual, would now really be the best time?”

Elstridge took a deep breath, and nodded. “I’m afraid so old friend, I would speak to those gathered as is my right.”

Tricolum nodded slowly, “that it is. Speak on good Prince.”

Elstridge stood to address the people gathered in the Ballroom. Their faces were alive with curiosity as they wondered what this quiet young Prince had to share with them. Most thought it merely a reaction to his nerves, but some, including Queen Elmaria, had worried frowns on their faces.

“Fellow citizens of Wilderia, I am Elstridge Liam Royale, son of Elmaria and Elton, Nephew to the late King Elliam who died three years ago in a rock slide along with my father. He had not married, nor had he any children of his own, and so I was named heir apparent to ascend in my 18th year. Thus I was given the middle name Liam to trace my lineage through our King.”

Elstridge paused; so far what he had said was common knowledge. Now he had reached the point of no return. If he continued, it would forever alter his life, and indeed it may change the destiny of his country. Still, his Uncle had made his wishes clear, and he was the only one who could make it happen.

“What you may not know, is that my Uncle, your late King, had adopted a son to succeed him.”

Gasps of astonishment rippled through the crowd and soon after that cries of indignation and denial. Soon the Ballroom was abuzz like the sound of a thousand locusts as people discussed this new development.

Elstridge raised his hand, and silence slowly returned. He continued slowly, trying hard not to rush through this speech that he had rehearsed for months.

“The King had told me this several months before his accident, when I was but a 15 year old boy. It is no secret that I had not wanted to ascend the throne, and he told me that such would not be the case. His true heir would have been presented to the country on HIS 18th birthday, which is 1 year gone. His name was or is…”

Rather ironically and very suddenly a bright light began to pulsate behind the Prince. Startled, the Prince spun around. There in the center of that light stood a young man, barely a year older then Elstridge, aglow with white light.

The assembled nobles stared…

“My name is Talleth!”

***

Upon hearing Elstridge’s confession, Orion’s first response had been outrage and betrayal, followed rather quickly by guilt for such thoughts. He could only imagine the strain of hiding such a secret for the past years, especially in the arguments that his friend always seemed to have with his mother.

Even so, the quick witted young man had proceeded to move closer to his friend. Orion knew how people thought, and the flashpoint temper that a mob could have. If this flustered enough people, things could get ugly.

For once wishing that Azrael was around to give him a lift to the throne room, he still managed to nimbly squeeze through the press of people, all the while listening to Elstridge’s explanation. But then his friend stopped, even as Orion was hunched between two massive knights. However even he noticed the bright light and stood up straight to see what was happening. He was a mere 5 meters away, but already he knew that it was too late.

***

Cerion started from his seat in the balcony, staring at the glowing light.
“Photographer!” he hissed, mind going back to all the knowledge that he had learnt about these hated sorcerers.
“Azrael!” he called, no longer the bumbling and vain young man that he was when he could afford to be.

Azrael smiled. She loved it when her fiancé was like this. With skillful weaves she picked him up, and sent him catapulting towards the throne along with herself. Even as she caught them both in a net of air and dropped into a crouch at the foot of the throne, Orion wormed his way next to them.

“What’s going on Cer?” He asked, his voice cracking slightly.
Cerion’s voice was grim and determined. “It’ll be alright Orion, I know how to deal with a Photographer.”
***