Chapter 10: Ch.9: A Hero

Syn rumbled while he awoke from his rumpled bed. His aching body made it difficult to get comfortable. He lifted his head gently, to avoid any surprise pain. 

His servant Swadia squeaked and rose from her place by his bedside. "Good morning, Master~," she trilled and leaned over, the black feathers of her long swan neck tickled his scales while she carefully encircled his spikey head. "Do you need me to apply some more of that healing salve for you?" She whispered to him. 

"Yes, I would appreciate that. Thank you." He groaned. 

Swadia nodded with a squeak and scuttled away. 

She was replaced by the big horse centaur Homff, who brought with him a platter and drink. His side was wrapped with a large bandage, but this didn't impede his ability to serve. The experimental medicinal drink he poured from pitcher to bowl swirled with crimson color. 

"Thank you," Syn said while he surveyed the reddish liquid. 

"It's my pleasure." Homff reassured with his deep voice. "I hope it helps. Tirii was excited when she came up with the idea." He placed the pitcher on the nightstand and lay down, his upper body upright yet still higher than Syn's. 

Syn didn't say anything else, he merely lapped the liquid up tentatively. It tasted like metal. 

Zeritha sat across the room in a wooden armchair, her poofy patterned tail curled into her lap. Day and night, she had quietly kept watch over him since the incident. Something could happen anywhere, anytime, but next time she would be ready for it. Beforehand, she was always armed, but now even more so. She constantly wore at least a helmet, chestplate, gauntlets with her crossbow strapped on, along with her usual belt and bandolier. It was bordering on obsessive at this point. 

Swadia returned with the salve and began applying it across Syn's body, her webbed talons rubbed it into his scales to ease his soreness. It smelled like sap. Torn wings had already begun to mend from the wax cream over the past few days. He purred while he enjoyed the massage she gave down his back. 

Zeritha only watched with mild interest, her eyes half-lidded with tiredness. 

In the middle of a pleased purr, Syn turned to look at her. "Zee, why don't you go get some rest? You're in the same spot you were when I fell asleep." 

"I'm not tired." She flicked her tail. 

"Mmm, I think these two can take care of me on their own," he insisted. "The door's even been reinforced." 

Begrudgingly, Zeritha dropped onto all fours and trudged towards her room. 

Until there was a clunky knock at the door. 

So, Zeritha diverted to answering. After a quick conversation, she let in these guests and kept to her guard routine on the sidelines. 

The visitors entered uprightly, two griffins: one familiar, one not. 

Lord Horozon towed with him an unassuming soldier. "Your highness, it is good to see you recovering well." He noted Swadia's massaging had reached Syn's tail. "I breach your peace today to introduce you to the one responsible for your timely rescue." He gestured to the bald eagle-lion beside him. "Please, introduce yourself." 

The griffin stepped forward, saluting across his chest. "Your royal highness, I am Grylon Lionheart, sergeant scout serving among your army." 

"Oh, a... pleasure to meet my 'hero'." Syn examined the fine soldier, who wore a standard draconia sash. "How exactly did you do that, rescue me?" 

Sergeant Lionheart explained a bit stiffly. "Well, Sir, I have a certain gift of my vision that helps me track where things have been... it's the reason I'm a scout." 

"Admiral Smaw is adamant that, without his gift, the fleet would never have been able to find you, skilled as your assailants were." Horozon added and patted Lionheart on the shoulder. 

"I'm very fortunate then, to be surrounded by so many griffins of –ohh– great talent. Ehum, excuse me." Syn blushed at his pleased outburst. He composed himself quickly. "I suppose you deserve some sort of commendation or maybe a promotion, but perhaps now is not the best time for official business?" 

"Understood, your highness!"

"Of course, your highness!" Both griffins agreed simultaneously. 

Lord Horozon continued with a slight bow. "Many apologies, thank you for your gracious patience. We can discuss this later." 

With that, the two excused themselves, leaving the prince to his servants. 

Syn snapped his head around to Swadia, her ministrations conveniently finished. 

Swadia bowed her head, "I'm sorry, Master," then tilted it knowingly. "Would you like me to start on your underside now?" 

"You did that on purpose, didn't you?" The prince accused with a hiss. 

Despite his embarrassment, his aches had left him for the time being. 

*** 

In the days after his rescue, the prince had insisted that they find his servant Camon who had been captured alongside him. Eventually, the divers had fished out the net which held him. 

His remains were unrecognizable, twisted and exploded, a pile of blackened charred flesh and scales. Syn only recognized the golden collar he picked out amongst the mess. Investigations concluded that lightning had struck him directly, likely intentionally. After learning this, Syn decided to keep the collar as a momento. 

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Even if he wasn't fully recovered, he wanted to attend Camon's funeral. So he conversed with his advisor and admiral on an appropriate ceremonial funeral. 

They were incredulous: A fancy funeral, for a slave? 

But Syn pressed them: What does one who gave it all for me deserve? Am I worth so little to you? 

So they brainstormed ideas. The funeral had to be soon, as the body wouldn't last to landfall. Admiral Smaw thought to give him a proper feast in his honor, using the fallen that they had recovered. Advisor Horozon thought it better to put him in a weighted casket and let him sink out of sight into the deep dark. Fictis Kaleid had a more favorable proposal: Camon's remains were to be embalmed with flammable gack and burned to the Heartfyre. 

The prince also discussed the matter of rewarding the distinguished griffin that was introduced to him. It would be combined with the funeral event. 

Everything had been planned out, the preparations made, and the time of service approached. 

Crown Prince Syn, despite his ongoing recovery, was preparing for his main role in the evening's events. 

In his room, his servants helped him get dressed, since they didn't want him to tire out too early. Homff carried heavy princely armor, Tirii assisted with dressing, and swadia fussed over small details like the polish sheen. 

Syn stood there patiently while they did their work. Taking interest in the already decorated Zeritha, he twisted his lengthy neck around between his wings to speak. "Zee, what do you think of my hero, whom I commemorate this evening?" 

"He deserves it. He was able to do more than I was." She hung her head, her eyes dim and tired. "Besides that, he seems the upstanding sort. When everyone was panicking, he stepped up and led the ship in your direction. He went out and endured the storm in order to save you." 

Syn squeezed into some gold plating. "Actually, I wasn't talking about 'that' hero..." He used his extra-long tail to pick up the golden collar from its place beside other military memorabilia. "It's not that I'm ungrateful he did that, but there is another hero that won't be around anymore because he gave everything." The collar gleamed while he twirled it around.  "Lionheart can still bless us with his presence in times to come." He looked at her, she met his gaze, eyes wide open behind the gap in her helmet. "Zeritha, do you understand what I'm saying to you?" 

"But, Sir. It took everything to save you, and I just... couldn't." Her wings and tail drooped while she squeezed her eyes shut. 

He gave her a smile which she didn't see. "You're too hard on yourself. You did enough, any more and you wouldn't continue to be by my side. I value that more." He winced as some belt or two were tightened. 

Zeritha didn't say anything, but when she looked she did have a sort of glimmer in her eye. 

"The only way he remains with me is through this carried weight on my heart." He wriggled the collar down the thickness of his tail until it fit snugly around it. "But it's not good to dwell too much on it. How does it look?" He wiggled his hind. 

After a moment of gawking, she shook her head and answered. "It blends in with your scales and looks like another piece of armor." 

"Hmm. But, I'll always know it's there. Like I know you'll always be there." He gave her a wink. 

Zeritha nodded and waved her tail comfortably. 

Syn turned his head back around towards the window and began to talk to noone in particular, just speaking aloud. "These last few days, I've had some time to think about how real the war feels all of a sudden. People's lives are in my hands now, and they'll give them up for me. I will not have this happen again, no more lives lost because of me." 

Finally, he was finished and fully decorated. He rubbed the five-pointed rim of his circlet and slotted it onto his helmet. From head to tail he was covered in stylish golden armor, red shoulder shrouds and neck drapery. His sturdy wing cape flushed out over his spiney back. 

"Time to inaugurate a hero." 

The evening on the sea turned out to be a misty one. Ships faded into silhouettes against the horizon. A distant sunset painted the sky like a canvas from which it was departing. 

Flagship Draconia floated in calm waters, decks lined with sailors and passengers. On the highest platform, the prince stood with high officers of the military and the guest of honor beside him. 

Sergeant Lionheart wore a dress outfit: a Draconia color vest which covered his chest, tight white sleeves with cuffs on his forelegs, black digitigrade boots on his hind legs, and wingstrung barding which covered his back and lower half. 

Syn delivered a short speech, using his amplified voice. He thanked the sergeant for leading the rescue, and congratulated him on his promotion to Chief Scout Paramount, the highest rank available to commoners in this military role. Furthermore, he also bestowed upon the chief scout a medal of distinguishment. 

Lionheart received many talonshakes from the high lord officers and was honored by a small bow from the prince himself. Applause and roaring cheers rose from his brothers-in-arms attending on all the surrounding ships.  

The event continued to the funeral service. Applause died, replaced by solemn silence. Not only was Slave Camon being commemorated, but also the handful of soldiers who sacrificed themselves in the following rescue. 

A lifeboat had been requisitioned and dedicated as a ferry for the fallen warriors. The bodies had been embalmed by flammable gel-like secretions from the breath of dragons. A decorated tarp covered the top of the vessel, providing a dignified facade. Right now, it was raised up to the deck of the Draconia. 

Prince Syn gave a eulogy praising their sacrifice, then proclaimed to them all that he took the responsibility of their lives onto his shoulders. He would not use them as mere tools for his ascension, instead each loss would be a mark upon his conscience that would not be taken lightly. Concluded with a dedication to the traditions of Heartfyre, Syn descended to the main deck with a torch lit by his own fire. He carried it to the lifeboat and mounted it to the top of the pyre. 

The flagship lowered the funeral pyre down to the water and began to tow it behind. Fictis Kaleid led a chorus of acolytes in somber song about one's flame diminishing until it snuffed out to a glowing ember that had to be returned to the original fire. Many attendees joined the song, it being popular at funerals across the world. 

Eventually, the torch burned down to set the entire pyre ablaze, bathing ships and sailors in a foggy glow and fine ash. For a brief period, it was as if they were embraced by the fiery spirits which they had gathered around like a campfire. Singing continued until the boat's integrity failed and its flames extinguished while it sank into the sea far from sight. 

Prince Syn saluted them, followed by Chief Lionheart and everyone else. 

A welcome and goodbye to heroes.

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