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[h3]Sir Sawyer Hayworth[/h3]
At sea on the Battle-Blood Minstrel, during the Athius voyage
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[center][b]XIV: The Prisoner and The Warden's Keys[/b][/center]
[center][@The Otter][/center]
[justify]Sir Hayworth gritted his teeth in frustration as he watched Valor [i]conveniently[/i] teleport herself away. It was a formidable magic, teleportation, and one capable of warping the very fabric of space itself. More than that, it was magic the old knight could do nothing to prevent. He'd already seen it firsthand during that fateful trip to the province of Ravenfell. To think that the usage of such a recent magical discovery was seemingly so widespread in a neighboring — not to mention, [i]hostile[/i] — territory... it was a scary thing to imagine, indeed. 


There was little time to dwell on this, however, as Sir Hayworth's gaze shifted once again to the depths below. With eyes still adjusting to the darkness, he could make out the familiar glint of a blade. When clarity finally returned to his vision, this familiarity would immediately turn into recognition. [i]That is...[/i] The blade offered by the King of Ravenfell, the supposed "slayer" of the leviathan they were now facing. Sir Hayworth recollected King DuFairre's words. [i]If the Queen were to get her hands on the leviathan...[/i] A conditional statement. [i]She will be able to control it to such a fine degree, that not even all our armies combines stand a chance.[/i] And its harrowing conclusion. 

Sir Hayworth's expression contorted with an uncharacteristic ambivalence. In front of him lay a chance to vanquish the beast once and for all. Yet, it was not a decision he could simply embark on without a second thought. If he were to act on his impulses and plunge the blade into the leviathan Ingens, it would also mean dispelling any pretense of fealty towards Hathforth that Agrovia and the Duchess had carefully maintained over the years. Further consequences swirled in Sir Hayworth's mind. If he were to fail, the Wizard Queen would no doubt order the complete annexation of Agrovia, as she did with Fyrdhaven, to say nothing of his and the duchess' inevitable execution for treason. 

[i]If the king's words are to be believed, then salvation surely awaits.[/i] An optimistic thought would burrow its way into Sir Hayworth's mind. 

But Sir Hayworth, in all its temptation, remained unconvinced. Shaking his head, [i]No. I am betting my hopes on a man with motives yet to be known[/i]. He repelled the thought with a counterpoint.

The idea hung like the most tantalizing fruit upon the most tantalizing tree, and Sir Hayworth found himself vacillating, stuck in a limbo between two choices. 

Then, he finally noticed young Callum Prosser. The noble's arms flailed about like the wings of a headless chicken, and he was obviously attempting to attract the man's attention. Needless to say, he certainly got it. The strange sight was enough for Sir Hayworth to shake off his paralysis. [i]I must not be rash[/i], he would scold himself. [i]Regardless of the outcome, the Queen cannot lash out with her new weapon immediately[/i]. A small reassurance, but it also bore some truth. Agrovia did not yet number among the Queen's enemies, after all. 

Sir Hayworth also noticed that Ingens no longer moved. Now was a prime opportunity to embed the Seed into it. That was likely what young Callum Prosser was attempting to relay to him. Wasting no time, he rushed to Callum's side, his sword once again erupting with mana. He placed a palm on the leviathan's head. [i]Boom[/i]. A violent pulse of mana would cause ripples in the water. 

Sir Hayworth had just lodged his Seed deep within the beast. 
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