Without a King
By Tyrian

Ricaan lay on his straw mattress, watching the rays of Guthay shining over his hanging weatherworn Chlamys, the raiment of a templar of Balic. His thoughts drifted back to better times when he had the powers granted by his beloved king Andropinis to call upon when the need arose. It had been over twenty years since he had felt the blessings of king Andropinis of Balic, but he never would forget how it felt to receive the power, and longed for the day when his king would return.

He turned on his side, and pulled his blankets over him, warming his body instantly over the chill of the cool night air. 

Again his thought's drifted back to his youth, he was a dedicated and loyal templar, and would normally spend his days patrolling the run down areas of the great docks, keeping tabs on the skimmer crews and looking for contraband had its rewards. When he was promoted and given the job of seeking out Giant raiders which had waded ashore from the numerous giant populated islands in the estuary of the forked tongue. He remembered a time when it all went wrong and a fragment from a thrown boulder had severely wounded him in the arm and if it had not been for the healing powers of his king he would not have made it back to the city alive.

He had been a templar for a decade when his orders came through. He was selected to join the Royal Balican Fleet and Ricaan was overjoyed when he heard that the king himself was to travel with the fleet. 

The journey was a long and arduous, and no officer seemed to know exactly where the king was leading the fleet, days later we saw our destination, a large churning wall of ash which stretched as far as the eye could see.

 The crew of the White Holostus thought that the king was going to lead the whole fleet into oblivion, but little did Ricaan care he would willingly give his life in the service of his king.

The king gave the order for the fleet to hold position and await his return. That was the last time Ricaan saw his king, standing on the bridge of his flagship looking eastwards at the rising dawn. Later that day Ricaan felt the kings power ebb from his body and panic ran through all ranks across the whole fleet. Two more days had passed and the fleet still held its position, then the order came, "the king has been taken prisoner by the Warbringer, we must return to Balic ".

*****

Ricaan rose from his slumber, the light from the sun on his face, today would be a day just like any other he would pray to his king but knew that Andropinis could not grant his templars power anymore.

Pulling on his tunic and short cloak he stepped out into the morning sun, he walked toward the guard tower, which overlooked the makeshift quayside that contained the remaining skimmers of the Royal fleet. As he walked to his post he wondered if these skimmers would ever sail back into the city of Balic, with the king onboard his flagship sailing in front and drive the merchant dung from the city.

He closed his mind to these thoughts and turned his attention to the job at hand, the safe keeping of the hidden fleet of Balic.