Agnes and Frey were handed the reins of a horse, one of the priest’s guards joined another to make room for them.
They travelled for several days, conversations between them were kept to the bare minimum.
Frey avoided Simerlin as best he could, the man gave him an eerie feeling whenever he looked at the priest.
Agnes had also been on edge for the last couple of days, waiting for that question Simerlin was going to ask her.
Naturally, she could simply lie to the man, if need be, however there was this thought at the back of her mind… what if he had a way to tell apart a truth from a lie?
The church was a bunch of people who believed in the gods, worshipped them, and acted in a way that would honour them, all while spreading their faith throughout the world.
According to public knowledge, all of the priests and higher ranked clergymen, as well as women, could use spells bestowed upon them by their gods.
Agnes only knew that Priest Simerlin could be considered a rank one mage, she had no clue what kind of spells he had within his repertoire, or how powerful they were.
Aside from that healing spell he used on Frey, at least.
Though lying to the priest and making an enemy out of him wasn’t an immediate problem to Agnes, in a straight up fight she would likely decimate him along with his guards, but who knew how the church would react as a whole.
Priests were important people within the church, their influence much greater than that of any normal human, as they were considered to be chosen by the gods after receiving their first spell.
Agnes frowned at her thoughts, she wasn’t going to create any problems for Lord Cykrus, just because of some question.
She was completely preoccupied by her thoughts, that she did not realise the towering walls they were closing in on.
Only through Frey’s uneasy movement behind her did she return to reality.
“About that question…” Agnes spoke loud enough for the church’s members to hear her, though she only cared about Simerlin at this moment.
She wanted to get her part of the deal behind her already, before they arrived at the capital.
“Why the rush? It’s just a question.” the priest chuckled as he turned his upper body to face her.
He looked at Agnes, the impression he had of her through several rumours kept on crumbling; the ice-cold woman clearly still felt emotions, and at this moment there was an obvious glint of worry to her appearance.
“Alright then.” he shrugged.
Agnes held her breath, she had put a lot of thought into what he might ask, she concluded that it would certainly be about Frey, about his connection with that letter the church had received.
There were records about the church spear-heading attacks onto creatures that threatened human society, a demon certainly within that definition.
Aside from some regular beasts within forests, like wolves or bears, she had yet to encounter any creature that came close to those records.
However she had never seen the church act herself either.
“Then here is my question, Lady Agnes…”
“That boy…”
“Will he be under the tutelage of Lord Cykrus?”
Agnes was taken aback, if there was water in her mouth, she would have definitely spit it out at this moment.
This wasn’t at all what she had expected, she felt like Simerlin was wasting his question; not that she would complain of course, this was in her interest, but it confused her nonetheless.
The priest noticed the change in her expression, he easily guessing her thoughts, laughing loudly in response.
“Indeed, that is my question.” he said while holding his belly from laughter.
The other church members around him did not seem to mind his strangeness nor outburst, they appeared fairly accustomed to Simerlin’s odd behaviour.
He calmed himself down after some time, then he looked at Agnes in a more serious manner, expecting an answer.
“Earth is among Frey’s elements, I am unable to teach him in that aspect, so Lord Cykrus will definitely do most of the work to guide him towards being a true mage.” Agnes admitted that Frey being her apprentice was just a front.
Priest Simerlin did not seem all too surprised at the revelation, simply nodding in understanding before turning his upper body back towards the walls of stone in the distance.
Silence hung in the air for some time before Agnes sighed out loud.
“Why did you choose to ask this?” she felt bad for some reason, like she had tricked the priest, or somehow taken advantage of his kindness.
“Oh, Lady Agnes, knowing too much might drive a wedge between Aventia and the church’s branch, and neither of us want to see that happen. The church depends on the good Lord just as much as he does on us.” Priest Simerlin waved his hand in the air while explaining, his face not wavering away from the imposing capital in front of him.
Agnes couldn’t help raising her eyebrow in response to this statement of his, she hated nothing as much as politics, as such she was unable to understand the situation behind those words.
She wasn’t about to ask for clarification from someone she didn’t trust, instead she turned her attention to her home, the capital of Aventia, where her Lord was waiting for good news.
High walls, made of dark grey stone, with watchtowers every few hundred meters, formed a protective line around this fortress-looking capital city, which was built atop of a hill.
Regular houses made of wood, rock and a roof with red shingles could be seen from all the way out here.
The rocks the houses were built with already had a tint of yellow, hinting at their old age.
Several open spaces throughout the city became apparent, plazas filled with all kinds of stalls for travellers and locals alike, to sell and buy wares.
Many trees and green spots decorated the city, making it seem a lot livelier in turn.
The group was riding towards the main entrance to the city; a giant gate made of pure iron, tall enough to accommodate tens, if not hundreds of humans, stacked on top of each other.
Beyond the gate was a long road that led further up the hill, straight towards the top, where another circle of walls stood to protect what appeared to be a giant palace, taking up almost as much space on its own as the rest of the entire city.
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The palace itself had domed roofs, some of which looked like they were made of glass, while at the very top of the palace was an unmissable statue of pure gold, shining ever so brightly in the sunlight.
It portrayed a warrior clad in full armour, stabbing their spear into the neck of an oversized serpent.
The city was brimming with life, which was visible even from this distance.
Tons of people were bustling around the entrance of the city, while the plazas were crowded.
Carriages were pulling cargo carts behind themselves, some transported food or clothing, others spices and herbs, some rarer ones even brought livestock with them.
Frey’s eyes went wide at the sight.
He had never seen anything that could compare, neither his village nor the town he had been to could come even remotely close to the size of the city in front of him.
Even his stories never mentioned structures of such a size.
“If you are already impressed now, just wait until you see the inside of the palace.” Agnes spoke to him, causing his eyes to light up even more.
The nine of them quickly appeared at the gate, which seemed even bigger up close, making one feel like an ant in comparison.
There were several carriages ahead of them, all waiting in line for a routine inspection from the guards before being allowed into the city.
The guards themselves wore light armour, with various weapons, some were armed with spears, they simply stood by on the sidelines, others had swords strapped to their waists, they were in charge of the actual inspection.
All of them wore a silver helmet that revealed the entirety of their face, a small green feather protruding from the top.
Agnes steered her horse to overtake the line, causing a light chuckle out of Simerlin, before he did the same to join her.
“Hey, get back in line!”
“I was here first!”
“No line cutting!”
The owners of the carriages audibly voiced their discontent, which just as quickly caught the attention of the guards.
Some walked towards the group to stop them.
“Stop, can’t you see these people waiting?” one of them said as he held up both of his hands to signal them to halt.
“You can’t just-” the same person was about to continue their lecture when another guard knelt on the ground, his left hand placed over his heart.
“Control post division welcomes back Royal Magician, Lady Agnes!” he spoke loudly but clearly, then lowered his head.
The remaining guards jolted in realisation, all of them meeting Agnes’ eyes before remembering the face of this famed figure.
They swiftly fell to their knees, following suit with the actions of the first guard.
The owners of the carriages who waited in line shut their own mouths, some even entered their carriage to hide themselves, unwilling to offend such a person after just arriving at the city.
“Right, I am back. I will head straight for the palace. Proceed as usual.” she ordered as she rode her horse past the guards, not a single complaint from any of the people present.
Once she passed the guards stood back up, turning their gazes over to the remaining seven people, however when they saw the white and golden-red banner their hearts dropped again.
“Control post division greets Sir Priest Simerlin. You may enter.” the same man spoke, his words and voice much less subservient, however still respectful when compared to the way they handled the usual merchants that tried to enter the city without any kind of permit.
Simerlin just smiled at them as he too moved past them.
The guards then turned to each other and whispered.
“Should we have said something about that boy with Lady Agnes?”
“Do you think you have the qualifications to question her actions?”
“Would you take responsibility if she got angry?”
Their conversation stopped then and there, worried that the ice mage somehow would catch wind of their exchange.
“I believe our way parts here, Lady Agnes, I bid you farewell.” Priest Simerlin caught up with her and Frey once more.
“You are still here?” she replied coldly, eliciting a few coughs from the priest.
“Until we meet again.” he smiled at her, then glanced at Frey one last time as they departed, not even mentioning the horse that used to belong to him.
Agnes and Frey continued along the main road up towards the palace, the people that crowded the streets promptly made way for the two, the moment they were made aware of who was riding the horse.
Frey observed all of them, he saw people with looks of admiration and curiosity.
People his age with hopeful gazes, workers and merchants all gazed over at Agnes, and subsequently him.
He knew what it felt like to be watched, but the sheer amount was new to him, making Frey feel somewhat uncomfortable.
They soon arrived before the second gate, the guards here wore full iron armour, there was a green emblem engraved at the part of the armour right above their hearts, a green peacock.
Instead of kneeling they wordlessly saluted to Agnes, allowing her and Frey to pass without wasting any more time than was necessary.
The courtyard was filled with several patches of flowers, beautifully decorated and tended to.
Several paths lead to different entrances to the palace, but Agnes and Frey simply walked into the main entrance after dismounting.
She handed the reins of the horse to one of the guards before they disappeared inside.
The glow from the fancy chandeliers reflected inside of Frey’s pupils, the walls were made of chiselled marble, brightening the room along with the light that entered through the domed glass roof.
The two stood in a wide-open hall with a set of stairs on each side of the room, leading to a second floor with even more doors.
“Welcome to the palace, your new residence.” Agnes turned to Frey while gesturing around herself.
“My… new home?” he mumbled to himself, completely absorbed in the sight.
They weren’t alone in this section of the palace, maids and butlers could be seen scurrying all around, as well as some noble-looking people, whose clothes looked leagues above what Frey was wearing.
One of the maids came straight for them, sweat running down her face, her long brown hair swayed due to her running, her elegant disposition nowhere to be seen at the moment.
She looked to be in her late fifties, roughly twice as old as Agnes.
“Oh! Lady Agnes! How worried I was, you have been missing for almost three weeks! What took you so long?!” the maid spoke hurriedly, not minding her manners at all.
Frey was shocked by the woman’s bluntness, he got to know Agnes and her fiery temper over these couple of days of travelling, and he could only imagine what would happen to this maid…
However unlike his expectations Agnes just smiled, a real smile, he could tell.
It looked different from what Priest Simerlin had always looked at him with.
“I also missed you, Lena.” Agnes said, she stepped aside and was about to introduce Frey, but before she had the chance to, the maid, Lena, continued speaking.
“Now that you are here you must immediately convene with Lord Cykrus!” Lena said, and without asking for permission, grabbed Agnes’ hand, and pulled her up the stairs, down a hall and into a wide throne room, six different flags hung on a pillar each, every one of them bearing a similar design to the peacock crest that the guards outside wore.
Most of these flags looked like they had seen their fair share of the past.
Frey followed them, desperately trying to keep up, lest he get lost in this giant building.
His steps slowed as he entered the hall, his head tilted upwards as he took in the entirety of the sight.
He was at a loss for words, all his life he had lived in a home made purely from wood, decorated by his parents to make it a little cozier.
This room alone was probably ten times as big as his former home, not to mention that both of their monetary values simply could not be compared.
It took some time before his line of sight finally fell onto the end of the room, where a throne stood on a slightly elevated floor.
On this throne sat a muscular man with short brown hair, he looked to be around forty years of age, his eyes were half-closed as they focused on a piece of paper in his hand, his other arm was used as a headrest.
Frey was an absolute beginner when it came to magic, which is why he was unable to feel Agnes’ aura throughout their short journey, however while looking at this man he felt an indescribable air of nobility and power.
“My Lord, my Lord! She has returned!” the maid, Lena, said with much excitement and urgency in her voice, causing the man’s attention to shift towards her.
His hand instinctively crumbled up the paper as he stood up, seemingly in a rush, as his gaze met Agnes’.
“You are back…” he sighed in relief, like a huge burden had been lifted from his back.
Agnes knelt on the ground.
“Please forgive this incompetent subject, I have made you worry.” she lowered her head.
“Don’t do this Agnes, stand up, I keep telling you, there is no need for this farce when it’s just us.” the man spoke while walking towards her.
She nodded her head, then stoop up according to his words.
“Thank you Lena, you may leave.” he nodded at the maid, who followed his orders and left the three on their own, only Frey, Agnes, and himself remained.
The man handed the crumbled paper over to Agnes while knitting his eyebrows.
“Have a read, see what they have come up with now…” the man seemed to mock the contents, or rather the authors.
While Agnes looked over the letter, the man’s eyes fell onto Frey, who stood a few meters behind her.
The stare he received made him freeze up involuntarily, like a prey being eyed by its predator.
Neither of the two spoke, both waiting for Agnes to finish reading first.
“…advising you to cede the throne? Have they gone mad?! Do they think just because the Aventia family has been in decline for the past few generations that we are so easy to bully?! We should take the initiative and wage war on them-” she was livid, the letter disregarded all honour, mockingly calling out her Lord to give up on the throne, on ruling Aventia.
“Agnes!” he shouted, stopping her from going down that line of thought “Though I hate to admit it, we lack manpower, just us two is not enough to protect all of Aventia… Baron Ironhoof supposedly has connections to a true rank three mage, that alone would shift the balance of power onto their side, not to mention their own rank two and one mages… Waging war is not an option for us.” Lord Cykrus continued.
Agnes’ fiery temper was cooled down within moments, she bit her lips, but remembered that she did not return alone.
“Ah! Lord Cykrus, may I introduce… Frey!”