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RTYY 27 - Summonings

Arc 3. The Seventh Year Gathering

Even though they had politely told him to sit down he felt way too nervous to be able to obediently comply. On the other hand he had been taught well enough to know that pacing back and forth wasn’t what an educated, well behaved young man should do. And so he just stood there, unmoving, feeling tight, uncomfortable and scratchy inside the new clothes ZenTar had forced him to wear. He hated those clothes, he thought, pulling his white jacket down in hopes it would stop trying to choke him to death. But it had been roughly six years since he’d last been to the Palace, and so ZenTar had insisted that he must dress accordingly to the occasion, show them that he wasn’t just some lost kid that they could easily brush a side without a second thought.

The sound of voices made him glance towards the door and other boys and girls, all older than him, entered the large, golden waiting room. He immediately looked away, easily recognizing the blazing red hair of some of them.

As to be expected, they were all overly richly dressed, even more so than he was, the precious stones sewed onto the collars and handcuffs of their clothes glimmering when touched by the bright flames that lit the room. They wore silver and gold earrings and rings, their hair carefully combed and adorned with shinny hairpins. The girls wore flowing gowns that reached all the way to their feet, the shawls over their naked shoulders and bare backs so thin and delicate that they were practically transparent, allowing the delicate lines of their daitai to be seen. Unlike his, most of those markings were coppery red, or metallic blue, a few even shimmering green. One of the girl’s had golden-green markings that perfectly matched her eyes. They were all of noble blood, he knew. Some of them he knew all too well, especially the royal children.

“Well, well, well! If it isn’t the mud-head!” a voice he wished he could not recognize taunted him, and he tried his best to ignore it, silently staring at the double large, golden doors that remained closed. “I haven’t seen you in a while, mud-head!” A shove forced him to take a step to his side but he quickly straightened his back, regaining his balance, ignoring the one trying to provoke him.

“Leave him be, FeiWan!” a soft voice commanded and a warm arm laced his, leaving him immediately tense. A sweet scent reached his nose, that and the wavering movement of coppery-red hair. Even without looking straight at her he knew she was wearing a dark-blue gown that would probably make the beautiful blue color of her eyes stand out even more. The shawl over her shoulders was the color of silver and he knew that the daitai covering her back were as blue as the summer sky.

“Ah! And here she is! The perpetual defender of the poor and weak!” FeiWan scorned, glaring at her from head to toe. “No wonder they say that trash always sticks with trash. You’re so pathetic, NimRen! Just the thought that we share part of the blood flowing through our veins makes me feel so sick that I want to throw up!”

“Do it elsewhere, then!” another voice interjected, another red-haired boy, older and taller than any of them. Feiwan glared angrily at him but seemed to think twice about what he was about to say, ending up turning around and storming away from them. “NimRen. Come,” the older boy commanded and he felt her arms tighten around his.

“In a second, brother,” she whispered timidly.

CalWan glared coldly at him but apparently decided that that was hardly the time or place to start an argument, much less a fight, and simply chose to step away.

ZaiWin sighed inwardly in relief. Not a single minute had passed and he had already managed to be surrounded by three red-haired kids. Attending that Gathering was promising to be worse than having to spend the entire week hunting down feimao.

The girl at his side actually sighed loud enough for him to hear, and then practically jumped in front of him, a beautiful smile stretching her carefully painted rose lips. Four years older than him, she had changed a lot since the last time he’d seen her. Even though she wasn’t that tall, she still managed to be at least one head taller than him. And her body looked a lot more like that of a grown-up woman instead of a kid.

“How have you been?” she asked, squeezing his hand, her blue eyes glistening, and he averted his gaze feeling kind of embarrassed.

“Fine, I guess …” he managed to mutter and received another squeeze.

“I heard that you’ve been training a lot and that you can control most of your daitai now. They also say that you’ve become the youngest Swordmaster ever known, and that they now call you ZaiWin,” she went on, sounding honestly excited about all the news she had managed to collect about him, and he simply nodded. The way she spoke almost made it sound as if having been stripped of his name had actually been an honor, and not a terrible shame he’d have to carry for the rest of his life. “You’re really amazing!”

ZaiWin averted his gaze, feeling slightly embarrassed again.

“NimRen!” CalWan called her, clearly losing his patience, and NimRen gave him an apologetically smile.

“Don’t mind them,” she whispered with an accomplice wink.

“You should go,” he offered, taking a peek at CalWan’s increasing frown as he stared at them, and she sighed.

“Fine. But only because I don’t want to get you into trouble,” she added with disappointment, squeezing his hand one last time. “Can we talk later again?”

He nodded and she gave him another smile before walking away to join her brother.

They waited for another long moment, the sound of chattering filling the wide waiting room. At least no one else bothered him, even though he was the target of many glares and even more whispering. Well, there was nothing he could do about that, he thought trying his best to ignore them. After all there was no way he’d go unnoticed, being the only kid in the room with black hair. Red hairs, copper hairs, bronze hairs, blond hairs, even a couple of golden-browns, could be seen all around, but nothing darker than that, definitely no deep-black hairs like his.

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Suddenly he couldn’t help resenting ZenTar for refusing to make up an excuse that would justify his absence in such a bothersome event. It had been six years since he’d left the Palace and he hadn’t missed any of it, not even for a second.

When the heavy doors finally opened everyone went immediately deadly quiet. Straightening their backs and making certain that their clothes were as neat as possible, they all waited to be called by they full names and titles, so that they may enter the room on the other side of the doors.

The first one was to be announced was Wen CalWan, since, at seventeen, he was the oldest of the El’Gin, his long blue coat embroidered in gold, his red hair pulled to one side into an intricate braid that formed a flower adorned with blue precious stones over his ear.

Next was his sister, Wen NimRen, in her beautiful blue gown that had obviously been designed to match her brother’s clothes. Even their hairdo was similar, with the difference that hers had been parted into two braids, which meant one shiny flower on each side of her head. She smiled and gave him a small wave as she passed by him, straightening her back as much as possible as she went in.

Next was Wen FeiWan, marching to the door with his head held up high, his long red hair braided all the way from the top of his head down to his waist. His clothes wore mostly red, the cuffs and lapel of his jacket looking like bright living flames, caressing and enveloping his arms and neck.

Then followed Wen GinWan and his twin sister Wen LinWan, both wearing matching deep-green outfits sprinkled with golden flecks that made their green eyes look even livelier. Their hair was also red, even though it was a bit more golden than CalWan’s and NimRen’s, and a shade lighter than FeiWan’s deep-red hair. Adorned with glistening silver hairpins, they both wore it pulled up high, the golden-red locks falling over their shoulders. They were roughly one year older than ZaiWin, and so he couldn’t help feeling kind of proud when they walked by him and it was clear that he was now taller than the both of them. He’d always been the smallest kid around, when he was younger. And so he was inwardly happy to notice that that was rapidly changing.

After all the El’Gin and El’Lin had entered the room was the nobles’ turn to be called inside, again from the eldest to the youngest, which made him the last one to be summoned.

After what felt like a long wait, after taking a deep breath for courage, he finally crossed the golden doors, walking down a red carpeted aisle. He didn’t dare raise his head to look at the ones sitting right in front of him, a top a large dais made of pure white stone. Bowing respectfully at his waist he did his best to maintain his back as straight as possible.

“Nox ZaiWin respectfully greets the glorious El’Dur and his beloved El’Dai. May they live long and prosper bathed by the golden light of the eternal bright sun,” he declared, repeating the words that ZenTar had forced him to say over and over again, wishing to sound as firm and clear as possible, and a soft, female snort echoed throughout the entire room.

“It would seem that I was not informed that filth like this had also been invited to attend such an important Gathering,” the woman siting beside the El’Dur declared, her soft, red, light gown practically transparent, several streams of red precious stones adorning her head and cascading over her marble forehead.

Unlike her husband’s deep-red hair, hers was of a coppery shade, braided close to her head and then cascading in wide waves down her slender shoulders, her hard, amber eyes staring hatefully at him. Sitting on her lap was a small, red-haired boy of five years of age. All dressed in gold he gave him an innocent smile, one he did not dare correspond.

The El’Dur at her side sighed, the large golden crown that encircled his fiery hair looking too heavy, his red clothes embroidered with golden flames, a sun made of small precious stones glistening over his chest. Like most of his children he had bright green eyes, eyes that were now looking at him as if he’d just seen something disgusting.

“There was no other choice. He meets the qualifications,” the El’Dur sighed and waved his hand, allowing him to take his place at the back of all the other kids that had entered before him.

Relived that no one had killed him the moment he’d stepped into the room, ZaiWin bowed again and quickly made his way to his predestined place, kneeling on the red satin pillow left empty for him.

“It is with great pleasure that we welcome you all to our Royal Palace,” the El’Dur declared, his voice strong and confident, his green eyes mirroring the dancing flames that burned in crystal basins around the golden throne. “If you are here today is because you have shown your worth and were deemed qualified to attend this Seventh Year Gathering of Wen. As you all know, this is a very important event that takes place every seven years, offering all the children of our noble Clans of Wen an opportunity to publicly show their worth and to bring glory and honor to their Clans and Provinces. During the next seven days you will all be put to the test in what are known as the seven main areas of physical prowess. But, more than that, you will be tested in your capability to deal with the unknown and to face unexpected events, as well as in your ability to exert absolute control over your daitai. In the end, the three young men or women that manage to get the higher scores will be offered a treasure of their choosing from our royal vault.”

At the sound of those words, and even though everyone already knew that that was the tradition, soft murmurs of excitement echoed throughout the entire room. Of course none of them, not even the royal children, had ever seen the wonders that the royal vaults held. But the word was that the best mystical weapons of the Empire were kept there, as well as several other magical artifacts of unknown origins. There was even the rumor that the mystical bracelet of revival and the goblet of death were also amongst the treasures.

“The rules of this year’s Gathering will be thoroughly explained by the Yu Calzai of Hao, who will oversee the event and judge your performance,” he declared and the woman sitting at his side, the honorable El’Dai, raised her head with a pridefully smile on her face, since the Yu Calzai was none other than her own father. “I wish you all good luck and that the Heavens may watch over you,” the El’Dur concluded and all the youths present bowed down, touching their forehead to the stone floor, replying in one voice.

“We are grateful for the El’Dur’s kindness and for the El’Dai’s benevolence. That the Twin Suns of Wen may live long and prosper under the eternal bright sun, blessing all of Wen with their radiant light for many years to come.”

Raising his head, ZaiWin waited until the others started to get up to follow their example. The last thing he wanted was to become the center of attentions. Several women, wearing simple white gowns that covered them all the way to their bare feet, appeared like magic from both sides of the throne room, their hairs pulled up into a bun, where a thin, transparent veil, that floated down their backs, had been tied to.

Like everyone else, ZaiWin only needed to take one look at them to know that they were Jundai, Priestesses of the Temple. Holding their hands, they surrounded the group of teenage boys and girls, the same gentle but rigid expression on the faces of all of them, almost as if they all wore the same hard mask.

ZaiWin took a deep breath and prepared himself to have his stomach turned inside out.

“Glory and fortune to you all!” the El’Dur declared, his voice like a roaring thunder and, in the next second, he’d been thrown into a dark, weightless world, which made his body spin back and forth out of control.

Shutting his mouth so he wouldn’t scream at the dizzying, sickening sensation, he could only hope that it would be over soon. And then he was falling and, if he didn’t know any better, he’d be certain that he’d die once he hit the ground.