The caravan that escorted the Lord of Aventia and his entourage were travelling across a mountain ridge, steep cliffs surrounded the luxurious horse-pulled carts on both sides.
Clouds covered the midday sun; their dark grey hue plastered the sky as far as the eye could see.
Heavy downpour accompanied the gloomy, yet awe-inspiring heights.
Frey’s face was glued to one of the windows, although the weather wasn’t playing along, this still was one of the most impressive sights he had ever seen in his short life.
Down below he could vaguely make out greenery, like trees, but also what appeared to be houses, small groups, but there were many such spread throughout the valley in the distance.
“Impressive, is it not?” Daren joined Frey.
“Mhm!” Frey nodded, but without looking away.
“All of those villages you can see already count as part of the royal capital’s territory. Not much longer, and you’ll see an even more amazing sight.” Daren promised while thinking of his first time coming here himself.
He had accompanied a gloomy woman, but even her mood was flipped on its head as they arrived...
After another hour of travel, Frey’s face was no longer just glued to the window, but also firmly pressed against it, trying his hardest to get a better look at a giant wall he spotted in the distance, within them awaited a gigantic construct of a city.
Tall and eye-catching buildings littered the space.
“See that thing in the middle...?” Daren pointed his finger into the direction of the city.
As Frey’s sight fell on it, his breathing stopped.
The villages down in the valley gave him a rough understanding of how small something could seem, but what he was looking at seemed to be the complete opposite...
Near the centre of the already incredibly big city stood a single building, that greatly resembled a castle, but its size was considerably greater than anything of its kind.
It alone could likely house enough space for an entire town!
“Welcome to Astafor, the Royal Capital, and the centrepiece of the world!” Daren introduced with pride, unable to contain his smile.
Frey was once again struck with awe, Agnes and Cykrus also glimpsed out of the windows now.
“It's been a while...” Cykrus mumbled while delving into memories.
“Astafor? Why is it called that? Is that the king’s name?” Frey asked, since Aventia was both the name of his home and that of his master.
“No, no, according to records of the church and the royal family: Astafor is the ancestor of our current king. He was the first ruler and king of humanity, as well as a rank six mage!“ he answered, causing Frey and Agnes to turn their heads in shock.
“A... what?!” Agnes exclaimed.
“Does that mean His Majesty is also...?” Frey pondered.
“Frankly, we don’t know. The current ruler won the competition in his time by leaps and bounds, ever since then, practically everything about him has been concealed and kept hidden.” Daren explained.
“According to witnesses, he crushed his siblings after reaching rank three before the others. People have always guessed which rank he might currently be at, but it is impossible to know for sure, since the royal family hoards the information on how to move beyond rank three.” Cykrus added what little he knew.
Frey nodded in understanding, he knew little about politics, but that bit was enough to see that the suppression of the information is supposed to keep the royal family firmly on the throne.
“If reaching rank three depends on luck and the person... shouldn’t the same apply for rank four?” Frey asked.
“Theoretically your thoughts are correct, but there haven’t been any news regarding someone breaking through to the fourth rank for ages. Either everyone that achieved it stayed silent about it, or there truly was nobody.”
“And I am sure you can imagine that someone who rose a rank above the rest of humanity would proclaim this and act that way.” Daren shared his thoughts.
“So, is rank six the highest?” Frey followed up.
“Correct. Astafor, among others, reached the peak of magic, they gave birth to the organisation we know as the church, at heart a band of monster hunters, to protect humanity first and foremost.” Daren continued, making Frey shudder, as the only priest he had met so far had wanted him dead.
“The church itself wields incredible power, but has never once interfered with, or clashed with the royal family. I am not saying that every member of the church is pure at heart and only cares about protecting humans, there are black sheep wherever you go, but they are abstaining from politics, which is almost surreal when you think about it.” Daren spoke.
“What kind of monsters?” Frey asked while covering his shivering hand.
“Well, all sorts... giant beasts with insatiable hunger for chaos and destruction, creatures that indiscriminately kill poor and innocent people, and many others, but most importantly... demons.” Daren’s words caused Frey to gulp.
“D-Demons? Why them specifically?” Frey began to lose his composure.
“Because they orchestrated the most gruesome mass genocide against our kind that has ever been recorded. Many heroes gave their life just to keep them at bay, until we managed to drive them out... or at least that’s how the story goes, there is an entire legend depicting the life of one of those fallen, but I have never seen a demon before. I wouldn’t even recognise them if they were to stand right in front of me.” Daren said as he looked at Frey, the boy’s heart raced without end.
“I think that’s enough information for now, Frey has much to consider for the upcoming days, I don’t want the past to take up valuable space inside of his head.” Cykrus intervened before Frey could accidentally break and spill something he shouldn’t.
“Forgive me, I got a little too invested.” Daren excused himself.
“What’s that behind the capital? In the water?” Frey asked to get his mind off the topic.
“Those? They are ships, used to deliver goods and to transport people from one point to another across the seas. The capital has a giant port with many of them, ranging from small to big.” Daren smiled, amused by the fact that Frey saw boats and ships for the first time.
Agnes on the other end of the carriage frowned while averting her gaze.
“Do they all belong to the king?” Frey followed up.
“Some do, but others are privately owned by families, as well as traders and merchants. Rich people in general.” Daren explained.
“Can we go look at them?!” Frey turned to Cykrus with excitement.
“I don’t think there is enough time...” Cykrus spoke, but the look in Frey’s eyes made him waver, the boy would soon partake in life and death battles, likely dying in the process, indulging him was the least he could do.
“...but I’ll see if we can’t spare a few minutes.” Frey rejoiced at the words.
This book is hosted on another platform. Read the official version and support the author's work.
The gears inside of Agnes’ head stopped moving, she processed all the information she just received, and could only formulate a single thought, “So these gods the church worships... they are just rank six mages?”
Cykrus turned to her and placed his finger over his mouth, gesturing for her to speak more quietly.
“Though you are correct, it has become a general taboo to speak of them so plainly. Especially members of the church would dislike hearing you refer to their gods as ‘just’ normal humans.” Daren semi-whispered.
Hearing this caused Frey to delve back into older memories, where Elizabeth, the local priestess, had scolded him for comparing the gods to the figures inside of his books... now it appeared all the more likely that the people depicted were indeed them.
He couldn’t help but smile.
His path was thorny, and filled with great dangers, but at the same time he had a glimmer of hope, that he could possibly reach the same heights as the figures he so greatly idolized.
They were mages, just like him, albeit a little more powerful.
The remainder of the ride was otherwise uneventful, no more would be assassins showed themselves, likely owing to the fact that Astafor, the home to both the royal family and the headquarters of the church, was just ahead.
The imposing walls drew ever so close, the rain was ceasing, the dark clouds were already parting to make way for rays of sunshine, illuminating the city, and bringing out its shining splendour for all to witness.
Unlike the gate of Aventia, there wasn’t just a single main entrance, but a grand array, in front of each of them was a long queue of visitors, merchants, and citizens.
Several merchants even set up shop right in front of the gates, aiming to profit from the people that were waiting in line.
Frey’s caravan, displaying the royal crest, caused a lot of attention to shift their way.
Unlike the other people who had no other option than to patiently wait their turn, the three carriages simply passed by the line, and headed straight for one of the open gates.
Jealous frowns painted the faces of the surrounding people, but not a single peep escaped their mouths, merely hushed whispers of envy they exchanged with one another.
The armoured knight that led the caravan got off and handed the guardsmen a coiled-up scroll.
Their armour was designed in a similar fashion to his own, just a little more focused on providing a good chunk of defence to the stationary guards, and to look a tad bit more intimidating.
Helmets covered their heads and faces, disguising their identities, merely their authority as protectors of the royal capital was left to attempt to challenge, if anyone was brave, and stupid enough to try.
The person seemingly in charge unrolled the scroll and gave it a few short glances before waving them through.
The horses neighed as they continued pulling the carriages through the open gate, sunlight now gleaming on their hide as the sky began to break open, rays successfully piercing through the clouds.
Frey’s amazement had no more bounds, the buildings that looked big from a distance were now huge!
The exterior of all of them appeared well kept, and more than just expensive.
A stream of humans spanned all the way from the gate, throughout the streets, as far as the eye could see.
Their clothing varied, as did their walking speed.
People that wore lavish pelts would stroll through the streets, taking their time as they appreciated the cleanliness, as well as glancing at some of the wares from the many shops at the various markets.
The quiet from the mountain pass had disappeared, instead replaced with cheerful conversations, and intense bartering from all around.
Frey’s dreamy gaze tried to size up everything.
Such people were generally accompanied by several others, who looked to be of lesser status, carrying bags and various other acquired goods.
However, the vast majority of the passerbys were the common folk, people who were going about their normal day to day business, humans devoid of any magic, power, or wealth.
Getting by with what they had, and the luck that came throughout their lives.
This could have been what Frey’s future looked like, had everything gone down differently, now he was on his way to what felt like an execution-grounds, at least that is what his master was expecting to arrive to.
“Are we heading straight for the castle?” Cykrus leaned back into his seat.
“We are. All of the families are scheduled to meet up for a banquet. Supposedly His Majesty himself will attend. Though I am unsure of the truth of this matter.” Daren shrugged.
“And the heirs?” Cykrus continued.
“We will have to see. This gathering is also a chance for them to make new allies and deals. Do you have anyone in sight?” Daren turned to look at the man he so greatly respected.
He shook his head, “None. I doubt even one of them will give us any attention, considering that I am just a Lord. Our odds of winning the competition, let alone surviving it, are too slim.”
“You never know... someone might gamble on the underdog, besides, having someone powerful to rely on every now and again is a reassuring feeling. I speak from experience of course.” Daren chuckled.
“I don’t agree. You can only rely on yourself, make your own opportunities, and fight using every bit of strength you have, then respect the outcome that life has decided for you.” Cykrus said, and silence once again ensued as they travelled through the city, passing all sorts of curious buildings in the meantime, taverns, gambling dens, tightly guarded magic-research facilities and rune-factories.
Every building was even more imposing than the last, towering high above them, and casting down long shadows.
As the caravan passed through the second set of gates, those that belonged to the royal castle itself, a loud fanfare was played.
Several trumpets echoed through the surrounding sections of the city, announcing the arrival of special guests.
The courtyard of the castle was decorated with sets of greenery, large bushes trimmed into figures of human warriors and knights, a stark contrast to the dark grey exterior of the structure.
Hearing the trumpets, several servants made their way out the entrance to the actual building, preparing to escort the newly arrived nobility, as well as carrying their luggage to designated rooms.
They wore suits and dresses, their design kept mostly black and white, to ensure their function as maids and butlers was clear to all.
The fanfare played for a full minute before the echoes of the melody began to fade.
The caravan stopped, and the servants rushed over to the doors, to help whoever was inside off.
Agnes, Cykrus, Daren, and Frey all respectfully declined, they all knew this was part of the servants’ job, but they were neither at an age where they needed the help, nor haughty enough to make those peoples’ lives harder on purpose.
Yet no matter how much they insisted, the servants did not relent on wanting to carry their luggage.
Although unwilling, Agnes begrudgingly let go and looked on as her things, as well as those of the others, disappeared somewhere inside.
The leader of the group of servants then led them into the foyer, a long and wide hall with extravagant decor hanging from the ceiling and on the walls.
One massive chandelier made of gold and ornated with jewels was the first thing that entered any visitor’s sight.
On the walls to the left and right hung paintings, full of delicate little details that gave them a feeling of being real.
“Those are the former Kings and Queens; all of these paintings are practically low rank artefacts, to ensure the preservation of history.” the servant-leader mentioned in passing.
“If they are that precious, why aren’t there any guards to protect them?” Agnes yawned.
“Heh, no one that is allowed in here would be foolish enough to try.” the servant waved her concerns off.
“It's His Majesty’s estate after all.” Daren nodded in agreement, fully certain that nothing would prove him wrong.
Agnes relented and shrugged; she wasn’t interested in some boring paintings either way.
At the end of the hall were two sets of stairs, both on either side that lead upstairs, and in between them was a closed double door, made of some kind of stone, in front of which stood two fully armoured knights.
Seeing the approaching guests, they turned around and pushed the door open, a loud creaking ensued, until the insides were revealed.
Frey followed Cykrus’ lead and entered the festive hall, one long table spanned the entire room, on it was a banquet, a large variety of food and drinks that looked exotic to say the least.
Every colour one could possibly imagine was being represented through one meal or another.
Many people had already gathered within the hall, flocking to and from the meals, especially the seafood, which had always been a specialty of Astafor thanks to its large harbour and nautical access.
The servant picked up a glass and a fork, with which he caused a ringing to resound through the hall, causing all to turn their heads his way, “I am honoured to announce the arrival of Lord Cykrus Aventia, ruler of Aventia, the renowned rank two earth mage himself, and Daren Willfow, rank three mage, and student of Duchess Debora Vivienne!”
Murmurs broke lose, “They actually invited them to participate...”
“Of course, every good competition needs some cannon fodder, makes things more interesting for the observers.”
“Daren Willfow? What’s their relation?”
“Kukuk, look at that child, I heard he is supposed to be their participant.”
“Such a young rank one mage?”
“Poor thing, I hope his demise is a swift one...”
One man stepped closer and raised his glass to Cykrus, he cleared his throat then spoke, “Lord Aventia, we haven’t met in ages, come, I simply must invite you to have a drink with me.” his voice drowned out all the nasty comments.
“Lord Beckett? Ah, forgive me, its Baron Beckett now, isn’t it?” Cykrus smiled as he walked closer to the man.
“I wouldn’t have recognised you if not for that servant’s introduction, you have changed a lot over the years.” Baron Beckett handed Cykrus a clear glass, filled with a bubbly orange liquid.
“Olander wine. You have to taste it at least once in your life; its rumours don’t do it enough justice!”
Cykrus accepted the glass, “Back then I was just someone out to prove himself to others, my mentality... and, well, looks, were bound to change with time.”
“Oh, and don’t call me Baron Beckett, just Stephan is fine. We may be adversaries in the competition, but right now we aren’t.” the man offered, “Right, allow me to introduce you... to my son.” he pulled a young man in front of himself, he was brimming with a rank two aura, one of the many that spread throughout the place.
The boy looked to be about nineteen years old, short brown hair and thick brows.
He was sipping from his drink just before getting pulled away from his talking partner, still a little bewildered as he looked at Cykrus, “Greetings...”
“What ‘Greetings’?” his father tapped the back of his head with force, “Show some respect!”
The young man rubbed the back of his head, trying to ease the pain “Nice to meet you... I am Marv Beckett. Just Marv is fine.”