Prediction Letters
> “The world favors some more than others. That is the way of life. Nothing is ever fair. But that, in itself, is a beauty only few truly understand and humbly accept.” ~Evanclad Irista, First Monarch
Grilled chicken and rice with a choice of fusion tea, water, or coffee. Xiv couldn’t believe his eyes.
He had expected to be tortured, interrogated, or exploited; not treated like a welcomed guest. But the fact that his meals had been filling, flavorful, and varied was a clear sign that his stay in Irista Nation wouldn’t be composed of cold nights trying to recover from injuries.
After the war, he was quickly moved to a farmhouse just outside of Minaveil Province’s main town. Xiv thought it weird for both the province and its capital town to share the same name, but he hadn’t really been abroad other than the few times he had to venture into the Nightmare Lands.
The farmhouse was a one-story building with its sections separated by dividing wooden walls instead of proper doors. His restroom was fortunately exempted from this and was properly equipped to meet his needs. He was even allowed to use the clothes in the small wardrobe provided for him.
As far as his impressions for imprisonment was concerned, this house arrest was the most locked up he would be until the Princess, Kristel Irista, called for him.
They didn’t even bother assigning a guard to watch him. There was a small watchtower—more of an outpost than a watchtower, honestly—up north leading to the port town and another outpost south of his temporary house towards Minaveil Town.
If I’m a spy, they’d be so helpless. Xiv tried to believe so, but he had his doubts.
For one, they at least had the sensibility to send a person to check on him regularly. A bubbly person named Bennie.
“You sure you’re fine with just these every day?” she asked, settling down a basket containing two sets of the same meal for his lunch and supper.
“I don’t want to impose,” Xiv replied, cautious of his words. He couldn’t dismiss the fact that someone as innocent as this child who had recently turned sixteen—a fact she nonchalantly shared on their first meeting—could be in espionage and subtle interrogation techniques. While Bennie didn’t have more than a single meiyal mark on her left shoulder, there was a big chance that it might have been an illusion or a test to see if he would react to it.
You never really know these days.
“Well, it doesn’t sit right with me. So, I brought you some dessert.” From within the same basket, Bennie pulled a small container and opened it.
The sweet fragrance immediately caught Xiv’s attention. Chocolate cake.
“I heard Vyndivalians are pretty fond of chocolates.”
“Not everyone,” Xiv pointed out and smiled. “But I do like them. Thank you.”
Bennie beamed at his words. “Well then, I’ll just leave these here. I’ll come back for them tomorrow. Same time. I also heard you have some guests coming over today, so be sure to behave. I don’t want to suddenly get instructions to send food in our dungeons. It’s such a longer walk from where I live compared to here.”
Without so much as waiting for a reply, she hopped off one of the two wooden chairs and skipped out of the house.
Xiv reveled in his lonesome afternoon meal. He didn’t care for anyone at the moment. These meals had been the highlights of his day for the entire week. It had been three or four years—he had lost count, nor cared too much to recall properly at the moment—since he had eaten such deliciously well-prepared food at regular intervals for long periods of time.
He took every moment, every fiber of chicken meat, every grain of rice, every drop of tea a blessing and a miracle. After finishing one set, he considered devouring the second right away but decided against it. Instead, he distracted himself with cleaning his plate as well as the rest of the farmhouse, looking forward to his next meal.
If you come across this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.
While he was dusting off the only window of his quite frankly comfortable prison house, a knock came from his door. Xiv didn’t bother peeking who it was and simply opened the flimsy piece of wood. They could easily kick it down if they really wanted to hurt him and take him by surprise.
A man in the casual uniform of an Iristan knight—a heavy tunic layered with the chest piece of an armor—greeted Xiv. He gave a calm salute and the Vyndivalian returned the gesture with his own variety.
The Iristan salute always changed. As far as Xiv knew, it depended on the current ruler of the nation. Monarch Denis’ meiyal core was located on his left collarbone. The Iristan knight’s salute reflected this by placing his right hand over his own collarbone while placing his left hand behind his back. At first, Xiv thought it was stupid to tell the enemy exactly where to find their Monarch’s weakness, but quickly realized it would be impossible to reach the High Palace on his own.
It might’ve been possible with the entire Vnydivalian army, but that was the least of his problems now.
The Vyndivalian salute always stayed the same. Xiv pressed both knuckles of his fists together in front of his chest, making sure that the palm-side of his hands faced towards himself and not down the floor.
The Iristan knight nodded in understanding.
“You are being summoned by the Princess. Arrive at the southern outpost within the hour. Are there any accommodations you require?”
“Can I bring my dinner with me?”
The knight offered an understanding smile. “Of course. We’ve been secretly receiving a few refugees who made it across the Desolate Lands way before the Battle of the Vanguard. We know it’s been hard on you, so don’t worry too much. Besides, we’ve been told you’re here to help. I’ll be on my way now. Don’t be late.”
The thought to relax crossed Xiv’s mind. Multiple times, in fact. He felt that doing so would be detrimental to his goal. Either way, he had to get going.
He quickly took a cold shower, fixed his clothes and his hair, and pondered on what else to prepare. He didn’t want to take the entire hour. He wanted to leave a positive impression so punctuality was key.
Since the knight was kind enough to allow him to bring his dinner, Xiv decided to take the basket just in case he had to transfer and save himself some hassle later.
It might’ve been pure luck, or it might’ve been because he was cleaning earlier, but Xiv spotted something amiss by the ledge of the window.
A folded piece of paper.
Out of curiosity, Xiv cradled the basket underneath one arm and undid the folds with his free one.
> Xiv,
>
> You do not know who I am, but that hardly matters for now. I will introduce myself to you when the time comes.
>
> For now, I come with a warning: Your life will be on the line tonight. No, it’s not the Princess, nor is it King Urzic.
>
> But someone wants you dead.
>
> I know you’re panicking, but that’s not a problem for someone of your caliber. Instead, I need you to follow my instructions correctly. Or maybe not. I know I don’t have much integrity to show for you to trust these words, so I’ll try and convince you first.
>
> On your way to the southern outpost, you’ll come across a small merchant caravan travelling north towards the port. If you choose to do so, you can hide inside one of the carts and escape. I should warn you that you’ll get caught as soon as reach the port and you’ll lose all the freedom you have right now. It’ll be worse if you jump off the caravan before you reach the port. I can explain exactly how the events will take place, but this piece of paper isn’t big enough for that.
>
> I’d advise against proceeding north on your own as well. The consequences are not as dire, but you still won’t like it. You love grilled chickens too much.
>
> You can also choose to stay where you are right now until the hour passes. The same knight will come fetch you. He’ll be very disappointed.
>
> If you go to the southern outpost on your own, you’ll meet the Princess and the Visitor. He will be a valuable ally and you can put your trust in him. Doing so will put your life on the line like I said earlier. I believe you can see this one through. The others will help you out and you’ll have gained all of their trust for your trouble.
>
> For your own safeties, I’ve deemed it necessary to keep your enemies unnamed for now. The knowledge will hasten the events too much for any of us to keep up. Their deliberate and calculated moves keep their progress slow which allows us enough time to prepare.
>
> I believe you’ll make the right choice, Xiv.
>
> You always do.
Xiv almost dropped the basket. For the sake of his own stomach, he mustered all his mental training and willed himself to calm down.
The Visitor, huh…
Xiv knew a few more things about the Visitor compared to most, or at least, his bloodline had cared enough to make a big deal out of such a thing when Vyndival Kingdom was still whole.
As part of the Arcturus bloodline, their family had been blessed with a Seeker of their own. His ancestor—whose name he struggled to recall at the moment—brought back the kingdom’s first Visitor. It was a time of glory and fame for his family, but this was centuries ago and Xiv cared little for this trivia now that the prestige held little value as far as his kingdom’s current predicament was concerned.
He had focused in too much on that particular detail only to realize that he had stepped out of his temporary shelter. He turned to face north. The path was clear and he wondered if the letter was actually telling the truth. Just to make sure, he faced south.
Without even the need to squint, he saw the caravan from the letter slowly approaching.
“Shit…”
After standing still for what felt like an hour, Xiv headed south with more urgency than what he hoped to show, ignoring the invitations of the road to the north and the alluring touch of escape of the passing caravan.
----------------------------------------