RAIN & THUNDER

While every knight was awarded stars by the Imperium, Rox Donovan received only queries.

Unsanctioned arrest of the North Ocean gang. A drunk fit at Dragon Tavern in imperial uniform. Assault on a fellow knight—the list went on. Immediately his name was mentioned, the hall was filled with quiet murmurs.

But Rox was unfazed. He held his head high. He walked with entitled pride as the chains around his hands and legs clattered noisily against the marble floor. Two guards presented Rox before the podium, where they forced him to his knees.

Ser Gerard Olaf stood tall in black attire with a red velvet cloak hung around his left shoulder.

“Black knight of House Donovan,” Olaf stated, “Under the command of the Imperium, for your recent indecent acts as an imperial soldier, you are hereby stripped of yet another star.”

Two guards on standby approached Rox. They both grabbed a star on each shoulder and ripped it off. The clatter of the golden stars as they fell against the dead silence that rippled through the room was quite deafening, even for someone as nonchalant as Rox Donovan.

Ser Olaf heaved a deep sigh. His heart dropped with each star that was torn from Rox’s shoulder. Still, he was the chief general of the imperial guild; he couldn’t afford to express personal opinions.

“This is your last warning, soldier,” Olaf continued, “Any more reports against you will result in your unceasing suspension!”

That last statement made Rox finally look up with something deep entering his eyes. He’d worked hard to become the black knight, to carry five golden stars on each shoulder awarded by the Imperium himself. Rox Donovan was an unshakable warrior. He was the best of the best.

General Olaf expected, at least, a modicum of regret, if not an apology.

Anytime soon! Plead, Rox Donovan!

Olaf really hoped Rox would set his overgrown ego aside, but instead, all Rox did was laugh. Gasps erupted in the imperial grand hall. Olaf cursed under his breath.

“With all due respect, General Olaf,” said Rox, “You can take the remaining stars now, if you must!”

With that statement, chaos broke out in the imperial grand hall. The elders expressed anger. People complained. Olaf’s face turned red. But all that was music to Rox’s ears.

“Take the scoundrel away!” Olaf yelled.

Guards whisked Rox aggressively to his feet and dragged him off imperial ground. After unlocking his chains, they pushed Rox out. He paused, eyes fixed on the hand that dared touch his chest. The guard who pushed him swallowed hard—quietly terrified. He quickly returned to the imperial building and left Rox standing there like a statue.

Rox didn’t move, even when black clouds shrouded the sky. Even when thunder clapped and rain broke loose. Not until he was drenched to his underwear; only then did he leave.

He went to Dragon Tavern hoping for the strongest ale that would flush his sorrows out, but he was declined entry. Fine.

He returned to the guild and crashed the mini tavern. Immediately he sailed in, prying eyes followed his figure. Rox settled down on a stool by the counter and knocked. The barkeep showed up with a practiced smile, saw Rox’s face, and sobered.

“The usual,” said Rox.

“Aye,” the barkeep muttered and went away.

With a slight grunt, General Olaf settled down on the stool beside Rox. Rox shot him a glance, his eyes lingering on the red cloak.

“You look like a goddamn jester in these.”

Olaf couldn’t help but laugh. “And you made a complete fool of yourself out there,” he countered.

The barkeep returned with a silver cup filled with ale. He saw Olaf and immediately bowed, “Chief. You are welcome!”

“Get me the usual, Ronan,” Olaf said.

Ronan nodded and briskly rushed to get the order.

Rox gave out a chuckle of disbelief, “His face had a different expression when he served me.”

“The perks of being a respectable person,” Olaf replied.

“Respectable?” Rox mulled over the word. Sure. He was one before—“respectable.” Dedicated his entire life to serving the crown. How easy it was for the Imperium, the guild, and all the people he sacrificed himself for to forget his efforts.

He chuckled and took a huge swig of the bitter ale. “You can hoard the respect all you want, Chief; I require no such thing anymore.”

Olaf shifted in his stool and leaned in, “What happened to you, knight? In the past year, I have witnessed the very best become the most dishonorable soldier to ever exist. You were idolized by the people, remember? Children were inspired by your story. Enemies trembled at the mention of your name… you were the best this guild has ever graduated.”

Rox shrugged. “I was all that, wasn’t I?”

Olaf shook his head in frustration. “I was hoping when I retire, you would take over this guild as the new chief general. I dreamt that for you. The bastard son of a maid becomes the chief general to the Imperium and leader of the imperial guild; that would have shifted mountains and carved a hole in history. Watching you throw it all away after all that you’ve gone through is truly heartbreaking.”

Rox quietly listened. Olaf’s ale was served. He drank and complained, berated, and almost bawled his eyes out until he was unable to speak. Rox carried him to his quarters, tucked him in, and then he went back to the tavern and drank his ass off.

He woke up to the loud blaring noise of the early morning bell tolls. Rox stirred, opened his eyes, and was greeted by Olaf’s bulk standing over his head. His eyes shot open.

“To your feet, soldier!” Olaf commanded. He was in his general attire, which meant he was in a bad mood.

Weakly, groaning like an old woman, Rox staggered to his feet without complaint. Olaf’s ocean eyes perused him slowly—disheveled hair, drool all over his cheek, blood stains on his clothes, fresh bruises on his knuckles.

“Who did you fight?” Olaf questioned.

Rox rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and cleared his throat, “Forgive me, Chief. I am afraid I do not recall.” His ale-rough voice gurgled.

Olaf bit down hard, fighting the urge to strangle Rox to death. “You do not recall?” he asked.

“No, I do not!” Rox answered.

“YOU DAMN FOOL!!!” Olaf yelled so loud that the entire guild echoed his voice. He paused, took a calming breath, and said, “The guild and I cannot watch you waste away your life and potential, and so, you have been officially transferred to the Crown.”

He slammed the letter of transfer against Rox’s chest. Rox looked up sharply, “What!?”

He quickly ripped off the red seal of the guild on the envelope and pulled out the transfer letter.

“No, no, no, no!” Rox said, as his eyes skimmed through the content. “You cannot do this.”

“I can, and I did,” Olaf frowned. “You leave immediately.”

He turned on his heels, but Rox abruptly held him back, “Come on, General Olaf, not to the Crown, please. I cannot go to the castle!”

Olaf faced him, “Finally, you act like a human! I figured the Crown is where you grew up; perhaps going back to the roots will restore the fire within you.”

“I cannot go back there!” Rox snapped.

“Well, YOU DON’T HAVE A CHOICE, BOY!!” Olaf shouted him down. He inhaled slowly. “Either that or you retire, and then you can go back to your bunk or travel the world knowing you have failed. That you were just a coward who wasted all the fight in him.”

Rox’s jaw tightened, “You know very well why I am like this,” he growled, “Roman was…”

Paused. Seething.

Olaf sighed. He placed a hand on Rox’s shoulder and squeezed gently. “Roman’s death was unfortunate; we all know that. The Imperium and the guild could have done better, but we all failed. We were cowards. But what is done is done.”

Rox hated those words more than anything.

Olaf continued, “If Roman were to return, even for a moment, and saw you waste away your life like this, what do you think he’d say to you?”

There was a long silence.

“Breathe, Rox Donovan. You did not fail Roman; the guild did. I did. So blame me, hate me, hit me, but do not ruin yourself like this.” Olaf turned on his heels. “You must report to the Crown today itself.” And with those words, he left.

Rox clutched the letter tightly in his grip. His blood boiled with rage. But Olaf was right; if Roman were to return and saw him like this, he would never forgive him. With that in mind, Rox returned to his chamber. He showered, wore perfume, donned his imperial uniform, and set out to the Crown.

The royal castle stood like a giant that had witnessed more history than it could handle. The grey walls carried cracks and a story that made the hearts of men quiver. Rox presented his letter of transfer to the Crown general, Ser Jonathan, who accepted the transfer with reluctance.

“The guild might have tolerated your insolence, soldier. The Crown will not,” Jonathan warned.

Rox was given a tour of the castle, but to him, it was like flipping back to the beginning of his life. He remembered running down these halls. Playing out on the field. Racing on those horses. Watching Crown soldiers train on the training ground. This was all coming back to him.

As the tour ended, Jonathan brought them to the main entrance of the castle. “They should be here anytime soon,” he said.

As if on cue, golden carriages rode up to the entrance. Crown soldiers in red and gold stood guard around the rides.

“Come along, soldier,” Jonathan said, and advanced toward the carriages.

Quietly, Rox followed suit. As the guard opened the carriage door, all soldiers present, including Ser Jonathan, bowed. This was why Rox hated the Crown. Muttering a curse, he also bowed, his eyes briefly catching sight of a silver crystal heel stepping onto the ground.

It was a lady.

“Welcome, my lady,” Ser Jonathan said as he rose up.

Rox also straightened up, but his eyes were still on the ground. If this day could end any faster!

“Dragon?” A gentle, cherry-sweet familiar voice called out.

Rox’s eyes widened as he sharply looked up at the speaker.

Rosy lips curved into the warmest of smiles. “It’s really you?”

Shocked, a gasp escaped Rox’s dry lips. “Ayana?”

Princess Ayana smiled and, without hesitation, ran into Rox’s arms. At impact, Rox lost footing but quickly grounded himself as Ayana’s arms tightened around his shoulders.

“I have missed you, Dragon,” she said.