Tales from Expedition Demeter: The Patriot

I

Davin Maldover admired the red and gold tapestries of the throne room. His blue eyes apraised ornate onyx statues depicting the great heroes of Estoya in all their glory.
Beautiful portraits of past monarchs hung from the walls, each depicting a Roux in their prime. It was intimidating for him to be surrounded by giants. He stood in empty silence, feeling a stroke of envy.

He lacked the experience of a veteran, being far to young to have seen such dark times. His civil ledger was thin, lacking the marks of merit that justify a pedistal in this great hall. He was no artist, no inventor, and no craftsman, but merely a knight without a cause.

His armor was not as extravagant, or littered with medals. His family sword was not the stuff of legend, for while he may be a noble, he was the heir to one of the least influencial houses in Estoya.

He wondered why the king would call upon a nobody. It isn't everyday the king holds a private audience. Did he do something wrong?

He jumped as a man came through a large ornate door just beyond the throne. In rushed the king with a spring in his step, muttering to himself far too quietly for Davin to hear. It was a rare honor. Davin tried but couldn't recall ever seeing Tammer Roux from up close.
He seemed taller, not in height, but the sheer gravitas of the man made Davin feel small and feeble. When he spoke, his voice carried to every inch of the great hall.

"Young Maldover, thank you for coming." He said, slowing his stride and coming to a stop in front of Davin with his hand forward. Davin offered his own and a firm handshake was shared between them as he answered.

"Of course, your grace." Tammer paused, took back his hand and rested it on his ornate cane as he shifted his weight. His voice lowered in pitch as the face of a tired man took hold of the lively charm he displayed just moments before.

"Fret not about titles, Davin. What I'm about to ask you, regardless of your answer, address me as an equal."

Davin wasn't sure how to respond to this, but listened carefully. The king reached for his forehead and began rubbing his temples. He seemed stressed about something as he chose his words.

"What do you know of the great expeditions?"

"I know that, generally, they were all considered failures. Expedition Juno brought us the The Pathfinders, but they are an unreliable asset, pledging no fealty. The others made minor progress to no progress at all. The last expedition, Ares, left The Provinces of Mhirriah almost a century ago... never reported back." Tammer nodded.

"I am going to petition the funding of another expedition to both the major and Minor Nobility tonight... Expedition Demeter. This will be my third attempt, but I do believe the odds are in my favor for once. Tradition dictates that no one may join unless they volunteer and I wondered if you and others you know would be interested."

"You're asking me ?" Davin asked after a moment of silence, and "I'm not sure." Was his reply.

"I'd be more than willing."

"That's the problem. This is not a choice made lightly, Davin. It is a rare occasion that any expedition returns. You'd be stripping yourself of land and title."

"in service to my king and country."

"Why?"

"What do you mean, why?" Davin responded almost aggressively. Tammer chuckled.

"What has you're king and country done for you, young Maldover? You're family is endebted to mine to a point that such debt could never be paid, and it was the laws of this nation that led to that fact."

"Maybe, but this nation has accomplished so much, and all in the hands of a family worthy of our service." Tammer turned away and walked slowly towards the throne with Davin at his heels.

"You miss my point. You answer on impulse. It's without thought, davin. I cannot accept your service."

"What have I-" Davin began but the voice of the king stopped him before he could finish.

"Do you think I want to send young men and women to die for me and the nation I rule? It's a suicide mission. It is a final attempt to fix this world before we all bear witness to the deafening roar of its death. Do you think me that cruel, Davin? Have I finally lost the hearts of my people?"

"No, not at all, you're grace. I didn't mean-"

"What makes you think throwing your life away for me is wise?" "Its not just for you or Estoya. It's for me as well."

"You can't change my mind, Davin. You didn't even bother to think on it."

"Why would I?" Davin spoke, elevating his voice to carry well beyond that of the king.

"you call me here to this great hall of heroes, the finest men and women this nation has ever known. You offer me a chance to become one of them, at least in part." He realized he was shouting, and lowered his voice immediately. He bowed his head, but refused to apologize as he continued.

"You ask me to take on this great task in the presence of legends, your grace. With resoect, the fault is your own. Why assume i'd do anything otherwise."

the room was silent for what felt like ages and an uneasy tension weighed on him. Davin dared to look up at the king and found that he was smiling, scanning the room as he stroked his beard in thought.

"You do make a fine point, ill think on it then, truely. I forget these statues even exist." Davin let out a sigh of relief as Tammer continued.

"You want to know why it was so easy to forget?" He asked and Davin nodded in reply.

"These men and women, as great as they may be are of no use to us now. Don't forget that while they be legends, they are also quite dead. I have no use for heroes. I need men and women who are selfish with a drive to survive. Not those who are ready and willing to sacrifice themselves. If you seek to break into heaven, you don't bring a saint to the holy gates... you bring a theif. Meet me tonight, ill have my answer then."

II

A man in his late twenties stands up from his golden throne. His clothing was black and gold, and fit his toned frame perfectly. The torch fire lit his piercing green eyes as he turned to his wife, Queen Lucia Roux. The woman's ornate jacket, fashioned in the red and black colors of their houses and in the golden hue of their kingdom, flowed as she lovingly handed him his cane. One could see the relief on his face as he shifted his weight onto it.

The cane, forged of steel and silver, was detailed in ruby and onyx. It held its king on high as he kissed his wife in thanks. The whispers and chattering of the court ceased in an instant as he stepped forward, his footsteps ringing out in the silent hall. He pondered the decision a final time, stroking his beard, styled to match his chiseled square jaw. He turned about seemingly making eye contact with all who gazed upon him. Some turned away out of intimidation, others met his gaze out of respect. Finally, he stroked his shaggy brown hair and spoke in a gravelly voice.

"The Estoyan expeditions," he began, "Have been long standing tradition of our great nation."

His words were annotated by his gift of body language, each movement of the hand and raising of the chin meant to enunciate his words with grace. Not one movement was unplanned, not one turn taken out of time as he addressed the nobles of his kingdom.

"Thirteen have come and gone over the course of centuries, all with varied degrees of success. Who would I be, this king without an heir, a man without a legacy, if I were not to seek out the answer to the riddle that has been ailing the minds of our greatest scholars?"

The lords were obviously unsettled. Decades have passed since the last expedition, Ares, and it met a cruel fate soon after its departure. The expense alone, alienated many nobles from the Roux dynasty.

"My lords..." he spoke, his voice elevated as it to calm a child. "My ladies..." He paused and smiled.
"Worry not for your inheritance, I beg of you. These are troubled times. Our world is dying...reality is dying. Our gods have all but abandoned us."
He winced in pain, the pressure on his leg taking its toll. His face twisted in anger.

"Do you expect me," he continued, placing his free hand over his chest with force as if to beat the words out.
"Me." he screamed, "to sit aside and watch existence itself burn to ashes around me? Do you expect me to allow you to walk out of my court without paying your dues to this noble cause?"

What began as cries of offense where quickly silenced as the king exclaimed again.

"No." He then paused and recomposed himself. He pointed at one of the lords, a thin man with a round face and short black hair.

"House Maldover, was it not my father who pulled you from the pit of poverty?" His finger pointed at another lord.

"House Hernim, My grandfather was the one who bestowed to you your lands and titles. Not one of you are without debts. I have reigned this great land for twenty years, and not once, even as a boy, had I ever asked a single favor from you."

He looked down at his leg and quickly glanced back up to address the looks of the nobles. What was once the look of offense, now turned to acceptance.

"Please my lords and ladies. I don't have much time left. Allow a dying king his wish before tearing his kingdom apart. Be not like vultures...not yet. Be the saviors of this world with me, and in doing what the gods cannot...be like gods yourselves. We could bask in the glory even if for only a moment..."

The queen looked upon him with love, and pride, but also with dread at the realization of the fate that was to come. The king limped his way back to his throne. He let his words sink in. He turned and saw Simon. He was beaming with pride and at that moment, he said his closing words,
"I know I would...."

The Nobles argued amongst themselves for hours. Tammer observed them as the minor and major nobilty asked and answered each argument with a counter.

"Do you really expect many volunteers to even step forward. It's suicide." One noble exclaimed and "you'd be surprised, there are many who would leap at a chance to discover the great unknown." Was offered as a counter.

"They wouldn't make it a day without significant support, were talking engineering, biological study, not to mention basic millitary support."

"And each of us have already agreed we would all pitch in to supply these needs so long as it is unanimously agreed to."

"And which direction would they go? If they venture to The Freeholds they risk exposure to melancholia, if the try to travel Northwest, they risk the unforgiving lands of Dis, and to the south? The Infernum is all their is past Mhirriah. By sea they risk The Weir, by-"

"Do you really believe this comes without risk?" Tammer's head lifted with the spark of interest. It was Davin who spoke.

"we are surrounded by risk, but don't forget that by doing nothing we also take a risk. It's awfully hard to enjoy the money you save when there is no wealth to speak of." Tammer was impressed at the wisdom of his words and how he spoke out of turn, given the irritated looks from Lord and Lady Maldover.

"The boy has a point. Does it matter which way they would go?" Simon asked. Eventually the moment Tammer was waiting for arrived. A loud knock echoed throughout the hall. The door opened and a woman entered bearing the insignia of the Pathfinders. Her name was Ariadne, with stark white hair and green eyes that made her look sick against the dark brown leather armor she wore. The Pathfinders, Wardens who have a history far deeper than many know in the world. She approached the throne with a thin legged spider the size of a small dog trailing behind her. The room grew silent as Tammer greated the guest with hope and eager expectation.

"Ariadne, had your order come to a decision."

"We have, our order cannot spare the man power needed for this expedition, as weve said to all past attempts, we are far too few."

Sighs of both relief and defeat filled the hall. Simon spoke up then.

"Well that settles it then." He said as Tammer seemed to sink back into his throne.

"How many Pathfinders do we need?" Davin spoke in a shakey voice.
"If I remember correctly, based on what little I understand of your order, we only need one." Ariadne looked at the boy almost as if the thought never crossed her mind.

There are wardens all over Estoya, surely we could find a few willing to explore new horizons. If one oathfinder is supported, the expedition would be fine, if a bit slower than previously planned." Tanker smiled at the boy. It was a tough sell, to be sure. A shot in the dark that happened to be aimed just right. The bickering faded little by little as favor shifted. Eventually it seemed their was little debate left. The expedition was officially signed into law, and preperation began.

III

Davin packed his horse in excitement. In two hours, as the sun creeos over the horizon, Expedition Demeter would depart. Ten long months of constant preperation will pay of. He looked to his armor, with freashly woven standards of dark purple and evergreen, the colors of the expedition. He felt an overwhelming sense of pride, fighting back tears of joy as he smiled at his reflection. He climbed atop the horse and began his journey to the edge of Rouxsgate
He would never reach his destination.

According to The Judges of Law and Merit who worked the case, young Maldover was attacked by a creature of the Weir. His remains as well as the remains of his horse were found in a sewer some weeks after. I never met the boy, but I do know that his death hit Simon hard, and the king even more so.

It's a strange thing, history. I find it to be one of my favorite subjects. In particular, if one looks hard enough, the will find stories such as this. Davin Maldover was no one. He was a speck of sand in an ever rolling sea of dunes, and yet, less than a week after his remains were found, a new pedestal graced the throne room, bearing his name, his face, and the armor he never had a chance to wear.

Author's note

Many want to say that it was the king who saved the world, for he is the one who petitioned the expedition in the first place, others claim it was a small group within the expedition, and some say it was the efforts of countless men and women who are responsible. Im afraid they are all wrong. It was a young nobody, and his courage to speak up when no one else would, that saved the world. The patriot, Davin Maldover.

— Serenity Ivyhollow