He stood in his shack, alone and bewildered. The weight of anticipation greatly burdened him. Although informal, a personal invite from Ceru spelled nothing but trouble for Arnos. Yet, it was a trouble that piqued his interest. He turned towards his desk and was surprised to see a letter hanging on the inside of his book. The letter was beautifully embroidered with blue inscriptions. It read:

To Arnos Omari,

"You are hereby invited to the banquet held by Adar Omari at the clan hall. Collect your ceremonial robes from Father's inscription hall."

P.S. I hate writing formally. Just get here by noon and show the inscriptor this letter—they better give you good robes… hahaha. :)

—Ceruleus Omari

"Family dinner…?" Arnos sighed to himself. "Leave it to Ceru to downplay everything," he muttered, folding up his invitation.

His palms grew sweaty at the thought of his first banquet, but he couldn't help but smile. "I bet the food will be nice," he softly laughed to himself, standing in front of the door.

The door felt larger than usual. It had served as both a restrictive wall and a protective barrier from the Omari clan. Hidden away from the Omari for most of his life, Arnos knew deep down that once he left this shack, his life would not be the same. He grabbed the handle of the door with vigour and pushed away his thoughts into the open expanse.

He walked into the plaza, the scene still as mesmerising as before. However, Arnos did not have time to absorb the view as noon approached steadily. He walked past the courtyard and library, making his way into a separate court. He could hear the subtle clanging of metal coming from a building in front of him. He walked towards a large brown building surrounded by white pillars with inscriptions etched into them, similar to those on Ceru's robes. Arnos stood there, with a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He gulped and banged on the door three times, then waited. The silence suffocated him as the clanging of metal grew louder before he heard a loud screech.

"REEEEEIGH!" The door burst open to reveal a large grubby man wrestling a creature.

"WENDALL, GET THIS BUGGER OFF ME!" he screamed

A young man in his mid-twenties rushed past Arnos towards the grubby man with slippers in hand.

"GET OFF HIM, YOU LITTLE SHIT!" Wendall screamed.

"Little?" Arnos questioned, baffled by the sudden turn of events.

"I TOLD YOU TO GET OFF HIM!" Wendall shouted as he slipped on his slippers, which began to glow with intricate inscriptions.

Wendall leaped and delivered a spinning kick intended for the creature but missed entirely, striking the filthy man squarely in the face instead. The man staggered back, tumbling into the courtyard.

"WENDALL, YOU BASTARD! I TOLD YOU TO GET IT OFF ME,' NOT GET ME OFF IT!" the grubby man roared, holding his face in pain.

"I'M SORRY, IT WAS AN ACCIDENT!" Wendall screamed across the courtyard.

"YOU WERE AN ACCIDENT!" the grubby man angrily shouted back.

Arnos stood there perplexed by this strange interaction. Wendall ran into the building and returned with a rope with blue inscriptions woven into it. "What are you doing just standing there? HELP US!" Wendall shouted, staring at Arnos.

Arnos, still confused, grabbed one end of the rope and rushed towards the creature with Wendall. The beast had grey, scaly wings bound by the same type of rope Arnos carried. Its large body was molten red, with scales that shone yellow in the sunlight. Four powerful, molten-red legs faded to grey at its feet. Its long, formidable jaws were bound shut, and its yellow reptilian eyes glinted as it rose from the floor.

The grubby man charged at the creature, now wearing a glove with inscriptions that glowed blue. He swung his mighty fist directly into the skull of the creature, driving it into the ground and shattering the floor in the process.

"NOW LOOK AT WHAT I HAVE TO REPAIR!" the man roared.

"You were the one who punched it!" Wendall replied defiantly.

Wendall pounced on the dazed creature. "QUICK, TIE UP ITS LEGS!" he shouted to Arnos.

Arnos ran and quickly tied up the creature's back legs. As he moved to secure its front legs, the creature lashed out with its tail.

Stolen from its original source, this story is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.

"DODGE!" the grubby man roared at Arnos.

Arnos turned and was greeted by the tail just inches from his face. Time seemed to slow as he twisted his neck, causing the tail to graze his cheek. Both men stared in shock but quickly remembered to subdue the creature.

"EVERYONE, GET OFF, I GOT THIS!" the grubby man shouted, his arms now wrapped around the torso of the beast.

Both Arnos and Wendall jumped off the creature as the grubby man lifted it off the floor and slammed it down in a suplex. The dazed beast voiced a whimper before falling unconscious.

The man got up, dusted himself off, and walked up to Wendall, slapping him across the head.

"What was that for?" Wendall exclaimed, holding his head in pain.

"That's for kicking me in the face!" The man bellowed, slapping Wendall again.

"Why did you slap me again?" Wendall cried out, his pain intensifying.

"That's for asking this lad," pointing at Arnos, "to help subdue a Molterix? He nearly died!" The man's voice was thick with anger.

The man turned to Arnos with his expression softening, "I'm sorry about my son, he got his brains from his mother," he remarked gesturing another slap, which made Wendall flinch.

The man was a mountain of muscle, with broad shoulders and a thick neck that seemed to blend into his large, weathered beard. He wore a stained apron covered in inscriptions matching those on the nearby pillars, and a headwrap mostly hid his greying dark hair.

"There's no way these two are related," Arnos thought, eyeing Wendall. Wendall was lanky, with unkempt dark hair and baggy overalls, unlike his father, though he did wear a similar headwrap.

"Adar told us about you, we were waiting for you until this bugger escaped," The burly man said, pointing at the Molterix, "although he never told us you had moves like that," he chuckled.

"Yeah, I thought he was a goner," Wendall added, only to receive another slap.

"Shut up Wendall," the man said, slapping him again, and again, which cascaded into a full-blown beating.

Witnessing this beating and reaching his limit, Arnos shouted, "STOP, I'VE HAD ENOUGH OF THIS NONSENSE!"

Both men froze, surprised, as Arnos balled up his fist in anger.

"I came here for robes, but instead, I got roped into... this!" He gestured exasperatedly at the now unconscious Molterix amidst the rubble which was once a courtyard.

The man laughed heartily, "Adar sent me a spirited one, it's been ages since someone other than Wendall spoke to me like that," he said whilst violently slapping Wendall again.

"I'm Maxwell, but you can call me Uncle Ox, because well –" he grinned, striking a series of poses to show off his muscles.

"You came for your ceremonial robes, right?" he asked. "Ceru gave me an earful about giving you the best of the best, lucky for you, everything I make is the best of the best!" he laughed.

"What... what about the Molterix?" Wendall asked meekly in the background.

"Sort that out yourself," Uncle Ox grunted. "I like your spirit boy, follow me," he said, walking into the building.

Arnos followed Uncle Ox into the building, noting the intricate inscriptions that covered the hallway. "What is with all these inscriptions?" Arnos asked, pointing at the walls.

"Inscriptions are our clan's craft. The ones on the pillars outside, our clothing, on the walls, and even on your letter of invitation all serve a purpose," replied Uncle Ox. "For example," he said, pulling out a plain envelope and handing it to Arnos, "open this."

Arnos opened the envelope, finding it empty. "There's nothing written; it's plain," Arnos said, puzzled. "Why?"

"This letter has inscriptions that only allow the receiver and the sender to read its contents," Uncle Ox explained. "The letters of invitation, on the other hand, have different inscriptions," he continued, producing another envelope from his pocket. "The inscriptions on this, our clothing, and the pillars outside all have defensive properties, making them very hard to destroy and protect the wearer," he said. "There are many types of inscriptions; these are just a few," he concluded, putting the letters away.

"Is that why Ceru's robes have similar marks to my letter?" Arnos asked, pulling out his letter of invitation.

"Yes, however, Ceru is different. If he gave you that invitation personally, it means he made those inscriptions himself. So it probably has more uses than just protection," Uncle Ox answered, stroking his beard in thought. "Anyway, Ceru is a genius. I doubt it would be anything to worry about. Despite his annoying appearance, he does seem fond of you," he chuckled.

"Ceru..." Arnos thought to himself. "What are you up to?" He folded his invitation and put it back into his pocket.

"We're here now," Uncle Ox said, opening a large door. "This is where the magic happens."

Inside, the room was bustling with activity. Every corner was filled with weaponry, clothing, and various household items. The scene was one of organised chaos.

"Sorry about the mess," Uncle Ox chuckled. "That Molterix escaped its cage and caused havoc, and my men here aren't the type to stop working because of a little mess," he said with a puff.

"You mean that creature we tied up?" Arnos asked. "It's called a Molterix?"

"Yes, boy. Adar has a habit of collecting creatures and leaving them to me to look after," Uncle Ox remarked. "This is an inscription hall, not the wilderness," he sighed.

Arnos glanced around, still absorbing the scene. "So, what now?" he asked.

Uncle Ox smiled. "Let's get you those ceremonial robes," he said with a hearty laugh. "Follow me."

As they moved through the hall, Arnos couldn't help but feel a mix of anticipation and curiosity about the upcoming banquet.