The banner of the rebellion danced its dishonoured colours. It boasted a silhouette of a stallion galloping against a red sun, underneath a gold sky and over a blue ocean. The flag topped tents and flagpoles, leading Edward home through the glade towards the encampment. He followed endless merchant trails, over hills, and through abandoned mage towns. The highborn trotted through the morning fog on a white gelding, draped in bright colours, gloating his heraldry.

His horse snorted. He rode into a rock pass, appearing from the mist. The knight arrived like a hero of war with his trophies. Edward brought a bouquet of lionlilly for his mother, feathers for his sister, and the skin of a snake for his youngest brother.

Guardsmen saluted him as he passed by. Edward returned their honourable gestures with a slight nod. He walked through the narrow entrance into the rebel encampment encased in high walls of stone. The dell packed with white-haired refugees, peasant fighters, and loyalists to the usurped king. The knight dismounted from his horse. Lower-ranked men-at-arms greeted him with nervous hails.

Edward ran his hands through his blonde hair, feeling dewdrops against his cold fingers. He marched through the camp with the gifts, searching for familiar faces.

“Now!” A voice called.

The knight ducked, evading a thrown apple. He heard giggling from behind the crate. He dropped the reins of his horse and put the trinkets on the ground. The knight crept in short steps, seeking the source of the laughter. An apple struck his breastplate.

“I’ve been hit! I, Ser Edward Archard have been murdered. What an end, to be killed by my own family. I die in vain.” He held his chest with his hands and pretended to fall. Edward lay on his stomach and closed his eyes.

 “We got him! Henry look! We got him! The Jarl of the winterlands is down!” A girl wearing a kettle hat popped out from behind the crate. She hurried to the knight’s side and put her foot on his back.

“Are you sure he’s all right? You didn’t kill him, did you?” Her brother crept from his hiding place. The younger boy had wheat-coloured hair and a boyish round face.

“He’s all right. He’s just pretending to be dead that’s all.” Rosieha assured him. Edward did not move. “Aren’t you, Edward?”

“Oh Rosieha, you killed our brother! You killed Ed!” Henry said as he nibbled on his fingernails.

“Help me turn him over, Henry.” Rosieha pushed the knight. “Wake up! Wake up!” She punched his side. A smirk fell upon Edward’s face. He rolled over and grabbed his little sister.

She squealed. Her scream turned to giggling.

 “Ha, ha! You can’t kill me!” He got up, holding his sister in his arms. Edward tossed her into the air. Rosieha reached for the clouds with fingers spread wide.

“I’m flying! I’m flying!” She shouted. Edward caught the chuckling girl and returned her to the ground. Rosieha staggered in a daze while calming her laughter.

“What did you bring for us this time?” Henry tugged his brother’s breeches. The knight picked up the gifts.

“For you, I found a snake skin.” Edward presented the skin to the little boy. Henry stepped back and shook his head.

“A snake skin! Thank you, Ed!” Rosieha snatched the gift from the knight’s hand. She skipped into the camp. Henry frowned and crossed his arms.

“I brought you these feathers.” He knelt and showed the second present meant for his sister. “You see, Henry, they are no ordinary feathers. They are the fire feathers of a phoenix.”

“But the feathers are all black, are you sure these aren’t crow feathers?” He crossed his arms.

“There’s an old legend that states when phoenix feathers are plucked from the bird, they become black to hide amongst common feathers. And when the phoenix is reborn, each feather becomes gold again. You keep them safe for me, okay, Henry?”

“I-I promise,” he stuttered. Henry took the feathers and grinned. Henry’s tunic sleeve slid up his arm as his reached for his gift, revealing a black bruise on his arm.

 “Did father do that to you?” Edward inferred. Henry stepped back and covered his arm as his eyes watered.

“He-he got angry at me. Said I-I needed to be taught to man up. To be taught a lesson. Rosieha was too rough. She punched me, on accident. I started crying and father-and father-”

Edward took to his knee. He embraced the child. Henry buried his face into his brother’s chest and sobbed.

“Father is right. You cannot let Rosieha push you around. One day you’ll be a man. You’ll have the whole world on your shoulders. Bury your emotions. Hide your fears. Real men are not afraid. Fear is a weakness you must stomp out like a fire. You are not just fighting to protect your own honour, but the honour of our family. That alone is more important than your life,” he told him. “Can you do that for me?”

Henry nodded. He wiped his nose with his sleeve.

“Now, run along. The abbess is probably wondering where you two went. You’ve probably scared the old nurse to death.” The knight patted the boy’s head. Henry went to search for his sister. Edward watched him go. 

The knight collected the reins of his grazing gelding and guided him to a post to rest. He untacked the steed, allowing him to eat without a bit in his mouth.

“You have grown up so fast.” A woman dressed in a red gambeson walked towards him. She wore her auburn hair in a tight and controlled bun, making sure that not one strand was out of place.

“Mother.” Edward presented his mother the flowers. Jehenna accepted the bouquet and hugged him. She nestled the gift against her chest.

“I am so proud of you, my son. You shine with the glory of the Archard name,” she said with a grin.

“I do what I must for the good of the realm. For the good of those I love,” Edward shrugged, “I don’t need personal glory, fame, or wealth to be content. It is my duty to serve my family name and uphold its honour.”

 “After the wars are over, you should think of getting a wife. We will have lots of land when we win this rebellion. Women will fall at your feet and you will be blessed with many children,” Jehenna said. The thought made Edward scowl. He did not believe he needed the love of a woman to serve his name.

“After the war, mother. We have to think about the present before we can address the future. But enough about that, when is Rob departing?”

“He will lead his portion of the rebel army northward by sun high. I want you to accompany him to the border. He is a bit nervous. I don’t blame him. A surprise attack upon the winterland capital is no small task. Your brother will need your guidance. Give him some words of wisdom,” Jehenna answered.

“I will speak with him. I know he will make our family proud and his siege of the winterlands will succeed.”

“Thank you, Edward,” Jehenna spoke. She wrapped her arms around her son. “Your father wishes to speak to you. After that, I ask you find Rob.”

He left his mother and walked further into the encampment. The camp nestled deep within the rock walls of a jagged ridge. It remained hidden by mist and shielded by a natural stone barrier. The knight passed the rows of tents where blacksmiths forged armour and weapons for the coming battles.

Edward recollected the eve the Nameless King died from his childhood. He recalled nothing, apart from seeing his father return to their estate, pale-faced and frantic. Thonyn gathered his family and escaped to the north. The death of the immortal king changed the name of Archard. The kingdom heralded them as cowards for abandoning their king and castle. Edward did not believe Thonyn’s actions were cowardice. The lord did what he needed to do to protect his loved ones.

Edward found the tent of his father. He stopped outside to adjust his appearance. He lost his smile, trading an approachable smirk for an emotionless face and a straight posture.

The knight marched inside. He found his father at his desk, writing a letter with a quill. The disgraced lord had pale yellow hair. Lord Thonyn Archard donned both pride and shame as a suit of plate armour forged from the binding of two metals.

Edward cleared his throat. “Father, you called for me?”

“Yes, my son, come and sit,” the lord barked an order. He gestured for the knight to come to his side. Edward marched to Thonyn without another word. “As the son who holds the birthright, and my greatest blessings, it is time you learned the secret of our name. You have proven yourself worthy of this knowledge through your strength and will, your great leadership skills, and wit.”

Edward rolled his eyes. He sneered at his flattering, but he kept his mouth sealed while the lord spoke.

 “What is the secret of the name of Archard?” The knight asked. “What makes our family different from the rest?”

“As you know, the king of roses was an immortal who ruled these lands with righteousness and honour. He gave the realm a thousand years of peace, until the usurper cut him down. The Nameless King once bore a name, and that name was Prince Adonis Ros. Throughout the generations, although it was lost in the language of the common man, it was strongly associated with nobility and legacy. The name of Archard is one that is shrouded in secrecy, born to live in the knowledge of greatness but never able to reach full potential. You see, my son, I was born as the son of the immortal king and an unknown woman. As a bastard child, I was a threat to the king. I was supposed to be put to death as a baby. However, my elder brothers, the late Aaronn and Balthazar, saved me from meeting my fate. The name Archard was given to me to conceal the bastard prince who lived. Archard does not truly exist. We are but the shadows of princes, the kings who will never wear crowns,” Thonyn explained.

“You mean to say, that our family does not exist?” His eyes widened.

“Aye. You are not truly, Edward Archard, but Ser Edward Ros. But you cannot hold that title. The name of Archard disguises us as the princes who were cast out of the picking. Our family will never sit on the throne, but we have a duty to the crown. We must protect the realm and protect our name.” Wrinkles of surprise appeared on Edward’s forehead. The knight shook his head and hid his shock from his father.

“I promise you, father, with my word, that I will live to uphold the honour of my name.” Edward bowed his head. 

“You have made us very proud, Edward. I know you will carry on our household with pride. You are a fire that will burn through the kingdoms, as the dragon of our name.” Thonyn patted his son on the back.

“I shall do my best. Now, if you will excuse me, I must go and find Rob before he departs for Freyashire.” Thonyn Archard returned to his work. The knight left his father’s tent and returned to his mount.

Edward rode his horse northward, following the fresh trails of horsemen. Their old half-plate armour glinted underneath the dull sunlight. Men-at-arms donned plate from mismatched suits, sharing what little the rebellion had. Humans and half-bloods raised their heads high, refusing to look any lower than the horizon. The people held aloft their adopted banner, heralding its colours as their own. They marched two by two, without breaking stride or falling out of line.

His found his brother leading his troop into the misty moorlands. Edward kicked his horse into a canter to catch up to him. Robin wore the familiar resilient smile his brother had acquainted him with. Fair-faced and bright eyed, the second born of House Archard was like a green horse, brimming with puerility. Edward slowed his mount as he reached his brother.

 “Finally mustered the courage to join me, brother? I see you are not as dog-hearted as I first believed,” Robin began.

 “You always know how to flatter, Rob. But I must stay with father and mother. My only regret is not being able to toast a drink or two with you. Father allowing one of his sons to lead the northern invasion is quite an honour.”

“You know more than anyone that he wanted you to go. But, while you don’t have to earn the respect of our parents, the small people do. Small as in me.” Robin had a clean, round face. His sun-kissed hair was trimmed short.

“You’ll make them proud. You’ve made me proud.”

“But that hardly takes much, brother, you can be amused by leaves drifting in the wind.” Robin chuckled.

“I mean it, Rob. You’ve grown up so much, and now look at you, leading armies as a highborn lord. I know you will be victorious.”

“Then when I return, you better be in the celebrating mood. We will toast to our victories until dawn and swap stories of our battles with mugs of ale.”

 “I am holding to you that, brother.” He smirked.

“It’s a promise, Ed.” Robin nodded. The two shook hands and continued on their way. The brothers rode through the midday fog. The clouds retreated as sunlight streaked through the murky skies, clearing the mist from the kirks and mazes of rocks.

Robin and Edward trotted to a high ridge leading to a ravine. Crumbled rune stones bearing the still images of forgotten gods stood on the hill. The two brothers stood on the hill, watching the footmen march ahead as a river of bodies, flowing around the slope and meeting again at the base of the highland. They dismounted from their horses.

 “Be safe, Rob, and be wise, or else you won’t keep your head,” Edward advised.

“I’ll be fine. Don’t fear for me. I had to fight with you all of my life. Those northern bastards are nothing in comparison to how simple-minded, stubborn, and irritating you are,” he jested. “When I return, you might not be able to best me in a duel. You might not even be able to recognise me.”

“Not being able to recognise my thick-headed brother? What, do you count me as a fool?” Edward laughed.

 Robin let out a sigh. “Do you really think I am ready?”

“Of course, without a doubt in my mind. Remember, united we stand,”

“Together we persevere.” His brother finished.

“Till we meet again, brother.”

“Till we meet again, you bastard.” Robin embraced Edward.

Robin mounted his horse and followed his footmen. Edward watched his brother go. He let a grin appear on his face, holding to the prospect of their promise. He prayed to the goddess to keep Robin safe, for he did not want this farewell to be the final one. 

Next Chapter: FAOLAN