The Kronborg Chronicles: A Sister’s Mission

     Princess Annabelle Kronborg-Sopher sat at her vanity, putting the finishing touches on her makeup while her maid styled her long brown hair into an elaborate updo between her horns. Behind the Blue Acara princess, her eldest brother, King Hagan of Brightvale, stood near the door. Normally he would not visit her this early in the day, but early reports had arrived that the neighbouring kingdom of Meridell had been robbed of all its colour overnight and given that they had both been born there and that their brother Skarl was the king of that land, he had wanted to be the one to tell her. As they discussed what was to be done to aid their brother and his people, as well as how to inform Annabelle’s daughter of the situation, their conversation was interrupted by the sounds of said daughter crashing through the door to Annabelle’s parlour and running toward the bedroom, her shouts calling out to Annabelle as she did so almost drowning out the soft click of the guard outside closing the door behind her. Hagan took a step back to avoid being hit by the bedroom door as it, too, was thrown abruptly open.

      “Mama!” Lady Roberta Sopher cried as she entered, slightly out of breath and clutching a letter written on grey parchment. “Uncle!” she added, upon noticing King Hagan standing nearby.

      “Bobbie?” Annabelle asked, addressing her daughter by her childhood pet name and looking at the younger Acara’s image in her mirror, “What in Neopia could be the matter?”

      “Have you heard about Meridell being hit by this grey curse?” King Hagan asked his niece. “I was discussing the latest intelligence with your mother, and we had just agreed that she should break the news to you as soon as she was finished with her toilette.”

      “I have just now received a letter from my friend Sir Tormund, Uncle. I’m sure you remember him. He’s the one who helped me with the Darkest Faerie business. He has sent a first-hand account of the current situation within Meridell Castle itself.”

      “Oh, good Fyora, has dear Tor been affected as well?” asked Annabelle, waving away the maid and turning on her stool to observe her daughter directly. The princess had insisted on being introduced to the Yellow Lupe from Meri Acres shortly after he and Roberta had restored Altador to Neopia. She had instantly formed a bond with the young knight, and sometimes Roberta suspected that it wasn’t only Tor’s younger sister Lucy who anticipated a potential match for her in that quarter. Annabelle was notoriously good at reading between the lines in any written correspondence or verbal conversation, though she also respected her adult daughter’s privacy and did not ask any questions on this subject. When Roberta was ready, Annabelle was sure that Roberta would tell anything that needed to be told.

      “Yes, Mama, he has. Well, to a point. Should I read the letter, Mama? Uncle?” The older royals looked at one another and nodded, so Roberta unfolded the note and began to read it aloud.

     Roberta,

      “I’m sure your uncle King Hagan has other ways of knowing that something horrible has happened here in Meridell, but the entire capital city and castle have turned grey overnight! Not just that, but everyone inside has turned grey as well, including your other uncle, King Skarl. This change of colour is not just affecting our ability to tell one another apart. Most of us, such as myself, have been somewhat weakened physically, which (in addition to the unexplained colour change) is making us very nervous. Others seem to retain most of their strength, but their mood has changed. They’re constantly sad and can’t be cheered up. King Skarl is one of those. Lady Lisha Borodere is searching our library for any information she can find about this sort of thing, but you know that ours pales in comparison to even the smallest library in Brightvale. Please, search for any information you can find about this. Search every library in Brightvale and if you must. Send any information you find to me here. Please don’t come in person, as I don’t want to risk this spreading to you.

     Roberta folded up the note again, not wanting to read further about Skarl being seen leaving the kingdom with a sack full of Blue Paintbrushes, as she did not want to get Tor in trouble for talking too much about Meridell’s weakened state, and she definitely didn’t want her mother and uncle to see the heart Tor had drawn at the bottom of the letter. Some intelligence, she mused, was best kept private. She tucked the note into a pocket and looked to her uncle, who seemed thoughtful. It was her mother, though, who broke the silence.

      “This settles it, Hagan,” she said, clearly referencing the conversation they had been having before Roberta’s arrival. “I must go to Skarl at once.”

      “I fail to see the necessity of that, Belle. I would rather you remain here and remain safe.”

      “Do you honestly think that the greying will stop at our borders?” Both Roberta and Hagan took a step back at Annabelle’s sudden burst of anger. She rarely snapped at anyone, but once in a while, among her family, she would show hints of the same temper for which her brother Skarl was famous. “Do you think that nobody else will be affected? The Darkest Faerie’s clouds did not stop at the Lightwater River, and I would be very much surprised if this curse does not cross the river as well. I half expect that we shall all wake up grey too within a week.” She softened her tone, observing the doubt in Hagan’s eyes. “I appreciate your concern for me, Hagan, as I always have done, but there are two reasons why I should speak with Skarl before we do anything else. First, I feel that we must consult him about what sort of aid is needed before we send anything over, lest we risk offending him. Second, I have a theory about why some are impacted more physically while others are affected more mentally, and I cannot think of any better way to confirm my theory than speaking to our brother. If my theory is correct, both of us could be at risk of suffering from the psychological form of the curse. Bobbie too, though she may be less likely.” Annabelle turned to a portrait of a noble-looking male Aisha on the wall next to her vanity, and her next words almost seemed to be more addressed to herself than to the room. “She did not know Phil. She was too young when he passed. She knew Cherry, of course, but not as well as we did.”

     Roberta looked to the portrait as well, which showed her father, Lord Phillip Oswald Sopher of Market Town. He had passed away when she was only two years old, too young to have formed any conscious memory of him when alive. She only knew him by this portrait and her mother’s and uncle’s stories. Queen Cherise, Hagan’s former consort, was slightly better known to Roberta, but not by much. The pink Kougress had passed away shortly after Roberta’s fifth birthday, leaving behind a son who was two years older than Roberta and a daughter within a few months of Roberta’s age. While unsure of how well her cousins remembered their mother, Roberta only had vague memories of a queen who had been the picture of dignity and grace in public but would play pirates with her children and niece in private.

      “You think, then, that the nature of the curse is tied to loss?” Hagan asked, scratching his beard in thought.

      “Suffering of any kind, really, though loss is the type of suffering best known by our family as a whole. The stronger the suffering, the stronger the effects of the greying. Meridell has suffered much since Father’s time, and while even you must admit that Skarl has done an admirable job leading them through it all, he hardly could have been unaffected by it. I have long suspected that he was more deeply affected than he would ever show openly. I have only seen it because I have known him my entire life and know his ways almost as well as I know yours. I would know them as well as yours had it not been for the divorce.”

     Here Annabelle paused, clearly thinking deeply about their shared past. Their father, King Woten the Second, had been the only heir to the Kingdom of Meridell in his youth, while their mother had been seventh in line for the throne of Brightvale for most of her childhood. She had been married off to King Woten almost as soon as she was of age in an effort to strengthen the alliance between the kingdoms, though their union was never a happy one. Eventually, through a series of misfortunes, the Brightvalian royals of their generation had been whittled down to three: King Robert, Queen Regina of Meridell, and Prince Mathias—who was the youngest of the siblings and was known for being rather imprudent. King Robert (for whom Roberta would eventually be named) had decided to change the inheritance law in Brightvale so that only birth order, and not gender, would matter when determining the order of succession. When he died, though, this had caused a legal struggle because he had not specified whether this would apply retroactively to his siblings (and by extension his nephews and niece already in being), or if it would only apply to royals born going forward. As he had been a bachelor and did not have his own children, it was determined that he must have had his siblings and their children in mind when drafting the law and the throne was given to Queen Regina accordingly. When King Woten began acting as though his wife’s ascension to the throne made him the king of Brightvale as well as Meridell, she had been quick to correct him. The ensuing argument had only ended with the decision (supported by each of their closest advisors) to go their separate ways. Custody of the young heirs had then turned into another argument, during which it was eventually decided that the young Princess Annabelle would go to Brightvale with her mother, but the boys were old enough to be offered the choice of which parent they wished to primarily live with. Hagan chose to live with his mother; Skarl chose his father—a choice that ultimately had led to King Woten cutting off Hagan and naming the slightly younger Skarl his heir instead. Skarl had always both looked and acted exactly like Woten at the same age, and Woten had always favoured him accordingly. Hagan only resembled Woten in that they were both Skeiths. In colouration and disposition, he far more closely resembled Regina. Annabelle was in looks the opposite combination of her parents to Hagan, resembling her mother in species and her father in colouration, but from having spent most of her life in Brightvale had come to more closely resemble her mother and eldest brother in temperament.

      “Anyway,” she soon continued, “Meridell lost a full quarter of her population during the plague and famine early in Skarl’s reign, and there were losses even at the highest levels. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sir Tormund and his contemporaries did not even remember that Skarl had been married for a brief time, many years ago, or if they could not remember his consort’s name, colour, or species. Elliana would be just one of many Skeiths in portraits on the castle walls, though female Pastel ones would admittedly be rare.”

      “I must point out that this theory is based on one account mentioning this curse’s effect on two Neopets, which could hardly be considered a sufficient sample size from which to draw any conclusions. However, even if your theory is sound, I still do not see why you should go into danger like this, Belle. Perhaps another should—” Hagan’s speech faltered at his sister’s glare and sudden rise from her stool.

      “Do you not see, Hagan? It HAS to be me! Who else would be able to get Skarl to lower his guard and speak candidly? Who has even half as much rapport with him as I have built? No mere ambassador would be known to him, as I have been our only ambassador to Meridell during the majority of his reign, and as such he would never talk openly about the past with any of your lords, knights, or scholars. Roberta is also almost a stranger to him, and I’m sure she still harbours a grudge against him for robbing her of her share of the credit in Meridell for the defeat of the Dark Faerie Sisters and dispelling the Darkest Faerie’s curse.” A glance at her daughter’s face confirmed this suspicion. “Roland is your heir and can hardly be spared at a time such as this, and Dona and Tourin are too busy with the new babies.” She did not add that Princess Dona and her husband were known for being rather dense (though Hagan had always doted on his daughter) and probably should not be entrusted with such a mission even if they had not just had a set of triplet girls. “As for you, the best way I can put it is that ever since our parents’ divorce there has been a border between you two, even when you are in the same room. You chose to live primarily here with Mother, but I was not given a choice, so he does not resent me for growing up here. I know how to pander to his ego, which of course he loves. If anyone living has even the slightest chance to persuade him to talk about his feelings, it would be me. Others can spend time tracking down and interviewing other victims before we too fall, but the data will likely be skewed by the lack of a relationship between interviewer and interviewee. The conversations could not but be guarded. Very few will be completely open and honest with a stranger.”

     A knock on the outer door of the suite suspended the discussion for the moment. Roberta, being closest to the bedroom door, opened it and began to pass through. Hagan took a few steps and held the door, allowing his sister to follow her daughter through the doorway. The three Pets arranged themselves around a large ornamental fireplace, as if they had been sitting on the green and gold furniture in the parlour rather than standing around in the bedroom. Roberta looked toward the triple window that dominated the northern wall of the suite. The right-hand panel depicted Queen Regina, and the left King Hagan. The middle pane was clear, and during perfect weather one could see the Lightwater Forest that stood on the border of Meridell and Brightvale from this window, as well as the Darigan Citadel floating over Meridell. Roberta had been wondering if she would be able to see grey trees from here, but her eyes widened as she instead noticed a strange rift in the sky opposite the Citadel. She was about to point it out to her companions when her mother’s call for the knocking pet to enter forestalled her. The door opened, revealing an orange Draik carrying a dark lavender scroll.

      “My apologies for this intrusion, Your Highness,” he said, bowing to Princess Annabelle, then bowing even deeper when he saw Hagan on the opposite side of the room. “Your Majesty, a message has just arrived for you from Altador. Based on the evident fatigue of the Fire Yooyu which brought it, I felt it was likely to be urgent, otherwise I would not intrude on you and your sister in this way.” He held out the scroll, which Annabelle took from him and passed to her brother.

      “An astute assessment, Dubric,” Hagan remarked as he broke the seal and unrolled the parchment. While quite capable of speaking normally—even almost causally—when surrounded only by his family, he tended to show off his extensive vocabulary whenever anyone else was present. “Generally King Altador prefers brown Yooyus for long-distance correspondence, due to their tendency to possess more stamina than their fiery brethren, but the latter are superior when haste is required.” He scowled as he read the short letter, then folded it and tucked it into a pocket. “Dubric, I require you to locate my heir, as well as Admiral Wentworth. Inform them that I require their presence in my throne room directly.”

      “Admiral Wentworth, Your Majesty?”

      “Indeed, Dubric. Now off with you!” The Draik bowed and hastily retreated from the room.

      “Why do you require Admiral Wentworth, Hagan?” Annabelle scowled and scrutinized her older brother. “Are you planning a journey of your own?”

      “Yes, Belle, so it would appear. Word of Meridell’s situation has reached Altador, and between that and that strange rift in the sky,” Hagan gestured out the window, “he is extremely concerned. As is the Faerie Queen. They have decided to summon all the leaders of the major Neopian powers to a summit in Altador.” He moved toward the door of the suite, and as the two Acaras quickly moved to follow, all three royals walked together toward the nearest downward staircase.

      “When do you think you shall be off, Hagan?”

     I know not how long I shall be gone, so I want to ensure that he is prepared. Roberta, I can count on you to assist him with your magic if he requires it?”

      “I shall do my best, Uncle. What of the research into the greying? I would hate to disappoint Sir Tormund.”

     I have never heard of such an occurrence as this, and I am sure that I have read every volume in that library at least thrice.”

      “And what of my trip to Meridell, Hagan?” Annabelle tried to keep her voice down, but her sense of urgency was still conveyed clearly to her brother.

      “I assume our brother has received a similar summons to this one. Knowing that your visit with him will therefore be of extremely short duration, I will not offer any further resistance to your intentions to visit him, provided that you agree to two conditions: First, you must assure me that if you arrive there and he has already departed for Altador, you shall immediately return here to Brightvale. You may stop on your way to see some of your acquaintance, but for no more than the customary half-hour morning visit to each, and to none who live more than five miles off the main road from Meridell Town to Brightvale Village. I would not have you dawdle unnecessarily in Meridell.”

      “And the second?”

      “That if he has not yet departed for Altador, and has been summoned there likewise, you return here as soon as may be after he does depart, again only pausing for brief visits to friends who live along the way. I understand the importance of you not cutting your visit to our brother too short, but I want you here to advise Roland, if necessary, during my absence. He is an intelligent lad, but relatively untested as a leader. Since he was a child, I have rarely been gone for an extended period, and I have never left him alone and in charge during a crisis.”

      “I am sure he will do you proud, Hagan. As you say, he’s an extremely intelligent young man, and you have taught him much. He idolizes you and will do everything he can to not disappoint you.”

     As they neared the throne room, the appearance of the very Kougra of whom they had been speaking ended this conversation. He was slightly taller than his father but appeared smaller than him due to his leaner build. Annabelle had frequently thought that her nephew had the appearance of a knight, but like his father he was more at home wielding a pen than a sword. His green fur and yellow hair were also reminiscent of the monarch, but he tended to style his hair and beard to resemble a Noil’s mane. Annabelle knew this to be a popular style among noble Kougras, but she felt that it looked a bit silly. Still, despite his questionable sense of style, she was sure that he would make an excellent king when his time came. Not that she was in any hurry to attend his coronation, of course.

      “Father!” Prince Roland called as Hagan, Annabelle, and Roberta approached. “I am told you wish to speak with me.”

      “Yes, son, we have much to discuss. Come, let’s get you up to speed on current events.”

     To be continued…