Isaiah woke up in a bright, white room. The room smelled like vanilla and crushed up pomegranate seeds. It must've been the infirmary.
Isaiah ripped off the uncomfy sheet they put around him. A nurse hurried to him at the sound of his awakening.
"Your Royal Highness, it would be wise to continue resting." The nurse told him. Isaiah couldn't care less about her opinion.
"Do I have any major injuries?" Isaiah asked.
"Major or not you shouldn't be walking so quickly-"
"Do I or don't I?" Isaiah snapped.
"No, nothing significant." The nurse answered after a beat of silence.
"Then I'll be leaving. Thank you for the bed." Isaiah nodded his thanks as he took his jacket off of the chair next to the infirmary bed. Isaiah slung the black leather over his shoulder as he strutted out.
Isaiah was walking through the huge hallway he never quite called home when, all of a sudden, an awfully cheerful voice came from behind him.
"Is that my favorite prince?" Isaiah sighed in annoyance as his brother caught up to him. "Oh, yes it is! Funny seeing you here, Sai! You're always on those soldier missions, I thought that I'd never see you again!"
Caleb Archer, heir to the Embercrestian throne and a complete pain in Isaiah's behind. Don't get him wrong, Caleb isn't terrible on purpose, he's just… eccentric. And for an emotionless piece of work like Isaiah, eccentric might as well mean the end of the world.
"I'm not that lucky." Isaiah replied.
"I heard that you passed out on one of your missions again," Caleb mentioned, Isaiah gritted his teeth. "Maybe you shouldn't beg our father to send you on them if it'll only cause harm."
"Don't talk like this is a daily occurrence," Isaiah scolded his older brother. "The merwitch simply caught me off guard."
"Maybe, but father doesn't know that," Caleb spoke nonchalantly. "He thinks that you embarrassed him, you should go prove him right."
Isaiah stopped in his tracks and turned around to go to the throne room. He could hear Caleb snickering behind him.
Isaiah walked into the throne room. It was huge, a golden chandelier covering half of the ceiling above him. There were two tables the length of the room on both sides of the room.
Finally, Isaiah faced a small stage, stairs surrounding its perimeter. On the stage, a beautiful and gigantic throne welcomed Isaiah. His father was staring distantly at it beside Isaiah.
"Beautiful, isn't it? I've sat in it so many times it loses its elegance." The king said.
"I doubt that it can be anything but beautiful." Isaiah argued, his father let out an amused huff.
"You've always been contradictory." He remarks.
"That's why you made me a knight." Isaiah mused.
"Ah, yes. A birthday gift, was it not?" The king recalled. "It's not too late to take it back."
Isaiah felt his heart stop at those words. His father smiled at the sight.
"Don't be ridiculous." Isaiah accused his father.
"I am not ridiculous. Simply making an observation," The king defended himself. "Considering your performance lately…" His father didn't finish, letting Isaiah's pessimistic mind fill in the blank.
"It's not my fault that we didn't have the right information. I was told that the merpeople hadn't chosen a side." Isaiah stood up straight, ready to argue with his father.
"It isn't wise to pick a fight with enemy soldiers." The king pointed out. What was it today with everyone caring about what is wise or not?
"I'm still here, aren't I?" Isaiah said, slowly losing his temper.
"Yes, but should you be?" The king asked.
"What are you implying?" Isaiah barked out.
"That instead of being here arguing with your superior, you should be acting like a knight." His father said coldly.
"Being a pushover isn't acting like a knight!" Isaiah snapped.
"I am your king!" The king said, glaring at his son. "You are being disobedient and prideful. A knight does not question his king."
"Maybe he should!"
"Maybe you shouldn't be a knight at all!"
Isaiah glared back and shut his mouth, sensing that the king-all-noble wasn't done scolding him.
"One chance, that's all I'm giving you." The king said heartlessly. "Tomorrow you will enter an Ashenforten training camp and you will disguise yourself as a soldier." The king-all-noble said.
"If you do not gather enough information, your days serving as a knight will be over." The king added.
Isaiah swallowed down an insult nasty enough to revoke his knighthood right there.
"Yes, Your Majesty." Isaiah choked out, hoping that his father caught the hostility in the sentence.
"You are dismissed." The king-all-noble told Isaiah to get lost in the most polite way he knows.
Isaiah left without a second thought. He ignored Caleb's 'I told you so' look in the halls.
Isaiah entered his room, it was huge and twice the elegance of any ballroom. Most of the space was used for his many swords and armory.
He collapsed into his king-sized bed despite it being the crack of dawn. Sleep didn't come easily, it never did. Isaiah tossed and turned, the familiarity of this struggle not going unnoticed.
As a child, Isaiah had a habit of wandering at night instead of sleeping. He'd go around the palace walls, and through the halls. He wanted to see the castle in its true state, without servants polishing every corner and royals frolicking everywhere. No, he preferred it dark, deep, and solitaire.
His late night strolls often ended out in the garden. He remembered tracing every tree, picking every flower, and laying in every patch of grass.
Of course, nothing calming could last long. Caleb always woke up and found him. Then, Isaiah would be escorted to his bed and Caleb would stand over, watching and promising that nothing would get him.
Caleb didn't seem to get that fear wasn't keeping Isaiah awake. The truth is, no matter how exhausted he is, Isaiah could never find the strength to just lay down and drift off to sleep. Unless he was beaten and passed out.
Isaiah stopped wandering as time passed. He didn't want his brother to think that he was scared of monsters at his age.
So, he gave up on trying to sleep and stood up. His swords were still untouched, and they might be taken away if the king kept his promises.
Though, it isn't certain that Isaiah had to fail this mission. Maybe he was strong enough to infiltrate and steal from an Ashenforten camp ground.
Regardless, he was bored and uninterested in anything within these walls. He had basically read the entire library front and back, and there was no way in hell that he'd willingly go to Caleb.
So, there was only one other option. The villages of Embercrest.