Pheax came into full glorious view at the end of the long stretch of the Goagoushini Hills. The streams from the Caenal river from which connected somewhere far behind them with the Derminicia Lake flowed down as a waterfall to create a dam which served as an intricate mote around the Fredominion, which from the top of the peaks looked like a flaring flame in the middle of a valley of blue mountains.
The Flare-Warroyers stood a-top the Figarous hill; the furthest point of the long and green pastured Goagoushini Hills and the highest of the mountain ranges from the view-point of Pheax down below.
From here, Chrys could see all Pheax; beyond of an enormous wall of which seemed to Chrys came almost from the same matter of w the mountains around it.
Pheax was a large colony with many condiments which only became apparent as one went closer; but what stood out instantly was the mounted palace in the centre of the Fredominion. In fact, as they ended their journey down Goagoushini at the foot of Figarous, and began the stone path to the doorstep of Pheax, Chrys could swear it appeared to him as if the magnificent red palace; which glistened in the distance by the light of Samsora like a candle in the daylight, seemed partly of natural mountain-stone, and half of handmade design; towering further above the other establishments surrounding it, and seemingly mounted and conjoined with what seemed another mountain, or, as Chrys observed the closer they walked along the path, the more it appeared to him as if the palace itself, and seemingly many other parts of Pheax, such as the walls which surrounded it, were carved, etched and forged out of a blue mountain-stone; Pheax itself seemed as it was located in a crater within the planet; or rather as if Pheax was found in the absence of where an enormous mountain may have once been.
The fields surrounding the outskirts of the Pheax Fredominion were layered with plenty of different housing establishments within the deep valley on the other ends of the streams that separated the long open field upon which the Flare-Warroyers travelled on a pathway made of stone.
"Home," Nady's eyes glistened with tears.
“Pheax,” said Que as they approached the mote of which lay beyond a large mahogany draw-bridge. “Said to be the oldest of the ancient cities; and by ancient, I mean it dates back to the beginning of our recorded history. It is said that is where Arcalieos and the Healaeons locked the hordial of Evalend in to its current flow. I'm sure Highborn Nady can take it from here though,” said Que, straightening her spectacles.
Nady took it in her stride but rolled her eyes. “Thanks Que, but I did not know that myself. We have a whole dantian to spend here; I would rather you all experience it as you will. Besides, it's much better if you hear it from someone who actually knows – like daddy; or Kindraught.”
“You're saying we'll get to meet Kindraught the Wizlord?” asked Ripple.
“Kindraught the famous Dragyre-tamer?” asked Flint.
“Kindraught the oldest known lender alive today?” Whisp had to make sure.
“Kindraught who?” it was Lelie this time; and Chrys was with her. There had been so much talk about this Kindraught. So much in fact, that Chrys had thought of the name at random intervals. Kindraught seemed to know about his sword and the so called legendary Phaeonix. For some reason Chrys visualised a fool of a man whenever the name crossed his mind and ears.
“Not only will I introduce you to Kindraught,” said Nady. “We will get an opportunity to do some pretty cool work for him.” She winked at Ripple who smiled widely in excitement back at her. As they approached the end of their road, the draw-bridge detached and was let down before them to reveal two guards smiling widely and with their arms outstretched at the sight of their Highborn.
“Hetram Faruq and Fanwell Pepper; the royal-guards of Pheax,” said Nady to her entourage and her eyes twinkled and she ran forward to embrace them with hugs.
Hetram was tall, with long plaited red hair and a great long beard with deep blue eyes. He, like Fanwell, whose long blonde hair was wavy but his face clean shaven, were both dressed in redsteele armour with the Pheax insignia of feather emitting from a candle, etched in golden over their chest-plates, with long flowing red capes attached to their goldsteele shoulder pads. T
"Highborn Getri-" Hetram started but he caught himself as Nady narrowed her eyes at him.
"Now now, we practised Hetram," she winked at him.
"Apolothanks, Bless and Grace Asdues Nadanae," he rolled his eyes but maintained the smile.
"She prefers 'Nady'," Fanwell corrected him; she winked at him happily.
Nady pulled the royal guards of Pheax to meet the Flare-Warroyers; who were all looking at her with a variety of different expressions upon their faces; she however remained unphased as Chrys's eyes were as dull as ever when she caught his gaze. The guards were friendly in their exchange of greetings and names, however when both of them were faced with Chrys, he tried to ignore the fact that they both spent an extra while shaking his head when they recognized his sword.
"We are to escort you to the palace,” Fanwell said to Nady.
“The Fredon has instructed that we give your formation a guide along the way,” Hetram said as he
led the Flare-Warroyers over the remainder of the bridge and into the hollowed Pheax; the palace in the distance stood level ground with them here; as they were on the top of an elongated hill that stretched around the twelve districts of Pheax. As it came before them, the Fredominion homed plenty of towering high building as well as a large population of inhabitants. At least twice as big as Apalorn.
“We are at the main entrance of the Fredominion; in the Outer domain,” said Hetram. “Save for the palace, it is the highest point of Pheax and surrounds the dominion. Here be our farming communities and industrial facilities. We shall take the path through the market districts and through the town to get to the central hordial of Pheax.”
“It's true then that the palace of Pheax acts a finger of point for a natural hordial of Evalend time?” Que asked with high interest.
“It's the truth,” said Fanwell. “The shadow of the palace casts accurately the current dial of our day according to Samsora’s positioning. You shall witness it for yourself in due time.”
Nady sighed as they carried along the foot path. Everywhere they walked the civilians of Pheax turned and waved in their direction. Chrys was amazed at the sense of openness in the air in contrary to Apalorn; despite it seemingly having a much larger population. The many Pheaxians they came across as they left the fields and entered the market districts were of happy faces. Around Chrys his comrades were delighted with the attention they received and walking ahead with the two royal-guards, Nady smiled politely but with insecure eyes as she nodded and waved at every civilian that turned to bow their heads to her; as was her responsibility to the lenders of Pheax, whether she wanted it or not.
The market sections were filled with long buildings which contained many a Pheaxian business and plenty of different stores; Chrys spotted many items he had never dreamt of through the hordes of lenders scurrying around the busy streets in their morning rush to get their meals and start their days. The pavements were lined with varieties of stalls, each concocting different aroma, and flavours in the air, which whiffed around Chrys as his mouth began to salivate.
“Phew,” said Lelie dreamily. “It's so nice here!” He could not help but share in with her relief and delight; he was almost pleased to see Lelie was smiling with twinkles in her eyes. “I'm getting myself one of those as soon as I get paid for this mission!”
He did not look after what she was pointing; it had completely evaded his consciousness that he was to start earning a salary in the course of his Aventier level; he could not possibly fathom what it must feel like to earn the power of being able to exchange currency for goods, and gave it little consideration. He was pleased that their beautiful journey through the Unnamed Forest had not been one met with the low expectations he held after his first journey outside of the Galserta bounds, as they finally drew towards the living districts of Pheax; where large buildings and housing units of geometrical architectural designs were found around the central hordial of Pheax.
“I should get my mother to consider moving here,” said Spiere. Chrys himself wondered for a moment what it could be like to live in any of the different spaces there were around him; or anywhere outside of Galserta for that matter. He watched many a Pheaxian civilian do the simple things such as bow to one another; a man who was mowing at his lawn waved to them and Lelie started the trend of smiling and waving back. Two orange-haired children ran from their yard to the road where the Flare-Warroyers were walking; their mother putting her hands to her thighs behind them but smiling.
“Highborn Nady!” shouted a young girl as she hopped into Nady's arms.
“Who are your frehan-galeon, Highborn?” asked the boy as he looked wide-eyed at the towering Borrin behind her. The reptotoid did his best to muster a friendly smile but the boy gasped in horror at the sight of his endless rows of vicious sharp teeth. Halori, perched happily on Borrin's shoulder, put her tiny hand to her mouth as she giggled.
“My comrades and formation from Galserta,” said Nady with a proud smile as she put the girl on the ground to give her a better view.
“Be off children,” said Hetram. “The Fred awaits his daenne as your maedor awaits you.”
Nady pouted as the children ran off happily. “He can wait you know,” she said to Hetram. “It's not like I wasn't home for integration three dantians ago.”
“What does frehan-galeon mean?” Lelie asked to nobody in particular.
“It's Pheaxian.” said Que loud enough for Nady to hear. “It means ‘close-ones, warm companions with whom one can share their hearts and secret’s.” she wondered for a second whether the Highborn truly considered her as such.
“I'm standing right next to you, you know?” said Lelie with suspicious eyes to Que before turning to Chrys. “Do you have any frehan-galeon?” she asked. He blinked at her and turned away without giving it a thought. He heard her sigh as she breathed lowly. “Me neither.”
“I love Pheaxian code,” said Ripple, breaking free from her humming. “Have you ever heard of the term faemea-daeleons, Quezen?”
“Faemea-daeleons?” Flint asked beside her.
“Those who you consider your pride and your tribe; the ones you will love beyond the boundaries of death and time,” said Que. Chrys could appreciate the sound these words made as they rolled of the tongue of his companions; but the weight they carried was one too heavy for him to consider just yet. Lelie sighed yet again next to him; however, the sadness she felt did not compare to the excitement as they reached the ruins of yet another ancient structure of mountain stone.
The ancient ruin, like the eleven others stationed around the central mounted palace, formed the Central Hordial of Pheax, and they, like the palace and the walls of Pheax, seemed to be meticulously formed from blue mountain-stone; however, unlike the palace, they did not withstand the currents of time and the rage of lenders as the palace had. The twelve little streams that separated the domains of the Fredominion all united in a pond around the mount in the centre.
“It is said that this housed the twelve Castiels of the Healaeons; which centred around Arcalieos' palace in the centre,” explained Hetram. “Each ruin you see around the palace represents the twelve dials of the day and the night.”
“Why have they not been up kept as the palace has?” asked Halori as she envisioned her surroundings renovated by herself and the Dwelvish.
“It is a matter of history and histroyance,” said Hetram. “History refers to a time when the twelve Healaeons divided the world into twelve divisions and separated the lenders from Everlasting Satya. There have been plenty of wars here; but none would dare to touch the Arc of Arcalieos.” His eyes moved along the way up of the great structure before him.
Chrys was astounded by mounted palace; giant in its size, he realized that they had travelled quite deeply down into Pheax. It was of mountain-stone for sure; but the help of its rulers throughout time had made sure to upkeep it; unlike the other magnificent ruins; who by this time had been nothing but that for as long as it could be remembered.
“So, who made this hordial?” asked Spiere in disbelief.
“It is said that Arcalieos himself carved Pheax out of the inside of Evalend’s highest mountains in a single moment when he walked Evalend as an Omenvlion.” said Fanwell. “I know, hard to grasp,” he said as Que rolled her eyes. “But it's either that or Evalend carved a natural hordial into herself and shaped a seamless Fredominion around her when such things are not even known to be possible today. You choose your theory.” He winked.
True as day, Chrys found that the shadow of the enormous palace cast upon them by the mighty Samsora as he ascended through the beginning phases of Therom's day cast over the encryption of ‘Azunial’ to count the first dial of the Evalend day.
The twelve encryptions of the tials and dials were found before each of the twelve ancient remnants on the large spherical land of smooth stone before them. Astounded, the Flare-Warroyers walked across the great engraving in the stone beneath them.
“Azunial,” said Que to whoever would listen. “The name for the first letter of the Pheaxian alphabet; the main alphabet that most of Evalend adapted to when they spread Evlendish, although it is said to have evolved plenty over the course of history. It represents the codes for the first number, or dial.”
Mystified were the Flare-Warroyers at this point, they followed Nady and the royal guards along the shadow of the palace; Five guards stood around the mount grouped together at the start of a natural step way that ascended to the palace. They saluted the Highborn and she and the royal-guards returned it back to them before they gave way. As they ascended all of Pheax came in to full wonder before them. Nady could only smile as she turned to make sure that Chrys was taking it all in.
Pheax traditionally kept the scheme of their buildings and roofs in reds, yellows, or whites; and the blue mountain hill tops that surrounded the wide valley of Pheax and the glaze of Samsora's shine and reflection off these colours gave Chrys the most magnificent resemblance of being inside a Fredominion of fire.
They reached the top of the mount and before them stood two ancient limestone doors upon which were the engravings of four triangular with unequal corners pointing in opposite directions starting with up and ending with down. On each triangle was a spherical glyph. Connecting in the centre through was a straight line which connected two more glyphs at the either ends of the arrows the triangles pointed at.
“Ah, Highborn, you will sing the Song of the Azra?” Fanwell winked.
Nady smiled nervously and it was only because Chrys was behind her. She took a deep breath, opened her throat, and released a low and long hum from the depths of her throat. The vibration of the chime grew ever more intense and melodic and then Nady opened her heart wide and sang:
By the first song within Arcononome
For the one we forgot:
Azunial Infinafira, flow grace throughout Pheax
Let love reignite all, Byduane Yceveros
Cixtridri Waternity and may all things heal
And break apart back together, Traphere Litherial
Evypento Thunaltyd shall she forge around his fire
But remember their foundations Hectazes Teratriar
Venstven Naeleoneal, shall we dance through the fire
And accomplish home Octococt Phyliaer
Nanigen Lanaedeania and may all find their way
Back home still, Tiadano Aryhayahay
Elfletwefle Laoloalaoha and may we always try again,
And again, and again
Yet know when to stop Xoazuan Xiazen
Nmazuphore Reamaekeamea and when to begin.
With each verse lit a new glyph and the carvings which connected it all suddenly pulled apart like a puzzle in reverse and slid back into panels of the palace walls to reveal the entrance.
Chrys closed his jaw when Nady, blushing, turned to face the rest of the Flare-Warroyers.
“That was gorgeous!” Halori squeaked.
Nady sighed “I’m pretty sure my father arranged for the doors to be shut just so you all could hear the song of the Azra. These doors are usually open for all of Pheax; shutting only for four dials as the night closes. My father is a busy Fred.”
There was an applause from some as the rest were forced into it. Chrys would not say it out loud, but he had never heard something quite as beautiful as the song that Nady had sung to open the palace to the Flare-Warroyers.
“What was that?” asked Whisp with wide eyes.
“The names of the azra dials,” said Que rolling her eyes. “Although in today’s age we only use nine of those; as Arcononome counts either as naught or for completion, and is not considered a dial, but rather that around or from which all the dials possilate.”
“We all knew that Que,” said Lelie eyeing her ever more suspiciously this time. “But those other elaborate pronunciations?
Nady nodded. “They are said to be the names of the first fourteen Phaeonixes… The pass-song to the palace.”
“You trust us enough to sing it before us all?” asked Lelie.
“The words won't be remembered by just anyone,” said Nady as she led them inside.
“Indeed,” said Fanwell. “I myself have heard the song a thousand times and I still cannot pronounce the first name in key.”
Chrys replayed the moment in his memory and found the words to the song echo perfectly in the chambers of his mind; whether or not he would be able to sing it out loud, however, would remain a mystery to him.
They were met with shiny floors tiled with plated gold in a hall themed red upon the walls, outlined with more gold. Chrys took it in the moment to realise he had never been in a fancier place than the one he found himself in. It felt warm in its richness and eloquence. From the ceiling hung dark blue drapes, which beheld the Pheax coat of arms: a candle emitting a feather upon a red shield.
Borrin put Halori to the floor and as they were the last to set foot inside, the pieces of limestone shifted out from the crevices to enclose them within.
“Please wait here for me for a couple of minutes,” said Nady to the Flare-Warroyers and she, followed by the royal-guards, made her way atop the stairs as the guards pushed open the doors and followed her in.
Leaving the Flare-Warroyers with mixed opinions and plenty to feel and speak.
*
Hetram and Fanwell gave a small bow and closed the doors behind the Highborn. Nady smiled greatly as her father, Fredon Feno Pharon sat up from his frone. They both held out their arms and met in the centre of the room.
“Highborn Getrienne, my look how tall you have gotten," said Fred Pharon. Nady rolled her eyes at him.
"Oh, stop it old man, " she giggled. "You saw me no less than three dantians ago for integration!"
Fred Feno Pharon was a tall and broad man, with bright and big hazel eyes and a dark beard and moustache curled in opposite directions and thick shoulder length brown hair, greying at the roots. A fine sculpted man in his day, evident by the width of his shoulders and arms, the Fred sported a round middle as of late. Upon his head he donned the Pheaxian crown; it’s points like feathers.
“Were there any troubles along the way? I was surprised to hear when your Medioce informed us via post that you suggested the journey by foot."
Nady hoped the others would not hear of this. For she had done this in the hopes that her father may not call for any form of luxurious transport, such as which she was use to whenever travelling back and forth between Pheax and Galserta. She struggled to think what Chrys would think being drawn by horses in an elegant carriage. She thought it would be best to make a team-building out of it. Two deloovians, one Nady.
"Very well, dad, we met plenty of interesting beings along the way. Where is Kahnabier?”
"He is out with Danextra; walking their steeds around the wild-parts."
Nady had missed her younger brother on her last visit; as Fred Pharon had sent him off a camp for reagons; heirs to fredominions, full of snobby youngsters so very unlike her brother; he had told her how much he despised it.
"Have you allowed him a sword as of yet, dad? He in nearly on his fourteenth year around Samsora. At Mastria most wallans have their weapons skills down around this time."
Fred Pharon eyed her darkly. Warning her not to start.
"Oh dad. I hope you at least let him watch the forces of Pheax while they train."
"Enough Getrienne," he waved his hand. "It is enough that I have to lay awake in bed at night thinking of you getting fried by Helblitzers or mishandled by the Politea soldiers. I have made myself clear as to where I stand with your brother."
Nady knew that her brother had not made himself heard as she had when she had demanded to be sent to Galserta four years ago, when she was her brother's current age. She understood why the Fred felt as he felt, however, for what had inspired her to fight for Evalend is what demotivated the Fred into his void of paranoia.
"So, tell me Getrienne, is the wallan here – the one with the Fyrevere?"
"He is. And he is... Well, I can tell he's a bit lost... Do you think Kindraught will be able to help him understand?"
"Well, I am not sure Kindraught himself understands much of it. He is very curious to meet the wallan. I myself cannot wait to see the sword."
"It's a fine piece of work, the sword I mean," said Nady. “Unlike... Unlike anything I've ever seen before. Out of this world. "
"Legends say as much" said Fred Pharon, stroking his thick moustache. "I am most excited to experience it. Allright. Take me to your new frehan-galeon."
*
"So, is anybody going to say it?" asked Spiere, sounding a slightly irate.
“Say what, Spiereatore?" asked Ripple.
"Do you mean how weird it is to experience a Highborn so close to us?" piped Halori.
"Do you feel we are out of line in our respects towards her?" asked Borrin.
Que groaned so loudly that everybody turned to look at her.
"I just can't believe a genius like me did not figure it out sooner. Pharon... Daughter of Fred Feno Pharon and the current Highborn of Pheax." she sighed in annoyance.
Hearing it out loud made it sound a lot stranger. If Chrys had to be honest, he was not sure what it had to mean to be a Highborn. In his head he simply envisioned that perhaps Nady had nicer meals in her nicer home during integration periods between Mastrial terms.
"But why didn't she tell us?" Spiere asked with folded arms shaking his head.
"I'm absolutely shocked," said Lelie, loving the drama. "To be so close to royalty!"
"Really Lelloney," said Que, rolling her eyes and folding her arms like Spiere.
"You sound jealous, Quezen," said Ripple with her thin brow raised.
"I agree," said Lelie, now also folding her arms. Que looked as if Lelie may as well have slapped her.
“First of all, none of you know me well enough to know what I am thinking," Que said in defence. "Second, I am more upset that I had to figure it out for myself and she didn't just tell me, the same way she announced to all of you."
"I am sure Highborn Getrienne had her reasons," said Lelie pulling up her nose. Chrys could tell she was pushing it.
"It's Nady."
The Flare-Warroyers all turned in shock to see that Nady and Fred Pharon were standing before the royal-guards at the top of the stairs. Lelie looked as if her soul had left her body. Que looked away completely.
"I have good reasons for keeping my secrets for as long as I have," said Nady. “For a tragic event inspired me to join Galserta under the Sword in the fight for Evalend. I joined Galserta’s Mastria after my mother was murdered during a failed and pitiful attempt to siege the Fredominion, my home. I vowed to never take the Frone for myself and dedicated my life to the protection of Evalend during this dire time in her unfolding through the patterns of Samsora. I have vowed to never watch a faemea-daeleon suffer or die before me again."
Nady still remembered her mother, Maraenne Ginadere Pharon, every day during her training and studies as she forged and excelled back at Galserta.
The Fredon did his best to stand tall as his daughter discussed their personal lives before the Flare-Warroyers; Chrys tried his best not to feel awkward as his understanding of Nady deepened. He found he respected her decision, more than what he cared for any of the unfolding of her personal life around him. Que could not dare to face Nady in that moment.
"Is there anything else we should discuss as a team or can I get to introducing you to my father?" Nady looked to each of them. Chrys respected that she was asking as the commander and not the Highborn as his perspective cleared her of any precognition. It was the first time Chrys registered his perception broadening in regards to another and he noted it well.
Nady went about introducing each of the Flare-Warroyers and the Fred made an effort to shake and hear each name clearly. Chrys could see that Fred Pharon was doing his best not to eye his sheathed Fyrevere. Chrys appreciated that.
“Would you like to see it, Fred Pharon?” Chrys asked; quite unsure why.
“Very much so!” said the Fred. Chrys slapped himself mentally for drawing the attention of all those around him, but he put his hand to the hilt and drew the Fyrevere; it sizzled as it swept free from its leather prison and the Fred’s eyes lit up as the royal-guards gawked.
“My Omnivalors, by Arcalieos himself, the time has indeed come to pass,” said Fred Pharon. “Please, Chrys Kion, put it away before I explode!”
The room lit up with laughter and Chrys sighed inwardly as he sheathed his Flaresword.
After the Fred had exchanged names with the blushing Halori and the sheepishly smiling Tomo, he put his hands behind his back and smiled at the Flare-Warroyers.
“Well, it was certainly pleasant to meet you colourful bunch,” he said. “I have had five guest-rooms prepared for you lot. Getrienne will show you the way.”
"The guest rooms all have two beds in them," said Nady. "So, each of you should pick a partner... Que..."
"Uh," said Que very hurriedly. "I was actually thinking I would love to share a room with Lelie."
Lelie looked away from Chrys in surprise; relief washed over her as she was always the last to be picked for anything. She had not looked forward to the choosing game within this new paradigm. She was not sure how she felt about being paired with Que, but preferred it much over not being chosen at all.
"Oh, well," said Nady shaking it off quickly. "Perhaps that's a good idea. Each of us pair with someone who is not our best frehan-galeon?"
"Good idea Nady," Captain Mogadi nodded. Chrys looked away; it was easy for him to pair with anyone in this regard.
"You up for my snoring?" Tomo asked him from his side.
Chrys rolled his eyes inwardly. He might as well pair with Tomo. Out of all of the boys, he had exchanged the most words with him thus far; he was, however, not quite up for Tomo's snoring.
"Sure," he nodded. Tomo smiled delightedly.
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"Let’s go," said Nady when all were happy. She led them out of the main hall and up a dlight of stairs, through a couple of long halls and then up another flight of steps.
"Here are the rooms,” she said. “They're all the same so it doesn't matter which one you choose. Mogadi and I will be going to my room."
Tomo opened the door to the first available room. The rooms were of the best quality Chrys had ever seen. With large king-sized beds per lender, with elegant mahogany panels and headboards, and by far the most comfortable bed Chrys had ever seen in his life; covered with reds and golds. Tomo woahed as he ran to the window.
"Chrys look at this!"
Chrys suppressed a sigh and went over to see the utmost beautiful view of Pheax from the way up high they were. Below them, Pheax was directed in the very direction the Flare-Warroyers had come from.
"Doesn’t carrying that sword make your shoulder or back tired?" Tomo asked after waiting for days on end to see Chrys inscribe his Fyrevere in a dwelvish scroll. Chrys narrowed his eyes at him.
"I mean, my arm gets tired just holding Nonthonomew to long."
“Perhaps it’s because your sword is always in a scroll that you don't have enough strength in your muscles to maintain your grip firmly without causing tension."
Chrys began to take his scrolls from his apouche in order to begin unpacking while Tomo considered this greatly behind him.
*
Lelie's bed stood no chance from the moment she laid eyes on it. She herself felt like the Highborn of Pheax as she rolled about happily on the soft satin linens.
Que could not help but let out a giggle and Lelie sat up and shot a nasty look at her.
"So," she said. "Trying to get back at the Highborn by choosing the rag-doll as your new bestie, hey?"
Que gawked at her straight-forwardness. "I would barely put it like that at all."
Lelie rolled her eyes at her. She knew how girls got with one another when things did not go as they had initially planned. Partially because Lelie was never anything like her attempts at friends ever ended up expecting, and mostly because nothing ever went according to how she planned.
"I was actually hoping..." said Que. "well, I saw how you did your cosmetics for our mission at Apalorn." she said. "Well... Where did you learn that?"
Lelie learned it through the art of observation of course; and plenty a failed attempt at making her own cosmetics, which after long amounts of failed experiments, she had finally mastered.
By observing the older girls back at the Mastria, most of whom were skilled in the art of decorating their faces with varieties of paints and powders. She had wondered if anybody had noticed, and was deeply flattered by Que's compliment.
"I... Taught myself."
Que seemed very impressed. "Well, I haven’t met anybody in our Tier daring enough to try it.... Would you... Well, teach me?"
Lelie looked away to avoid Que seeing the sparkles in her eyes. Perhaps this Que wasn’t half as bad as she thought she was ever since she had ironically shown off her cleverness by freezing the lone-wolf straight into a sudden death with a Hellson.
"Woah!” The barbara was met with visual sensory from every corner of Nady's large bedroom within the palace. Painted with plenty of bright colours and decorated with hangings of a variety of drapes and linens. Her bed at the far end was gigantic in size. In contrast, however, her walls were layered with posters of Evalend heroes of all ranges.
"I was thinking we could share my bed?" Nady said, pleased with the smile on her companion's face.
"Mogadi would love that,” the barbara's eyes twinkled in every direction.
Nady smiled. "Is it a lot different than from where you are from?"
Mogadi shrugged. "Mogadi's tribes do not believe in the comfort of homes. After graduating Mastria, the Mohlabenis strive to thrive in the wildness of the mountains. Safeguarding it from the outside world. Such as the Reineiniers of the Unnamed Forest." Nady took it in with fascination. "Mogadi is surprised that Nady would choose the life of the Tiers over that of a Highborn. "
Nady bit her tongue. Not wanting to bite at the friendly Mogadi. Rather her heart eased into it and she decided she would give it a shot.
" I never wanted to be a Highborn. Not to mention the Irene when my dad steps down. "
Mogadi did not have any over reaction to this. Nady felt strangely vain for expecting her too.
"The Mohlabeni have no rulers in the mountains," she said. "we all lead where we are strong and learn where we are weak. Perhaps Highborn Nady would enjoy to come stay there while Mogadi sleeps in her bed.”
Nady could see the joke in the barbara's eyes and giggled into a laugh. It was indeed an experience for her to share space with another lender that came from such a different world from what she herself was used to.
Not too far beyond the Pheax walls, by the wilder parts of the Pheax valley, between a large series of trees between crevices in the Nordt-Wes of the Fredominion, rode the reagon of Pheax on a tall black steed, accompanied by his warden, who he also considered his closest friend.
Kahnabier Gealeant Pharon, who preferred simply to be known as Kahn, was four years younger than his sister, but the two were as thick as thieves when they were blessed enough to share space; a rare occasion as of late.
His light brown hair whipped with the winds as his horse galloped at full velocity; his big hazel eyes glistening with adrenalin.
His companion and warden was not too far behind him.
Danextra Hydenryke was her name; but most called her by how she preferred it, and that was by the name of Dane; who maintained a shaven head and had light green eyes always lined in a serious glare.
The Fred had originally employed her to act as Nady's warden; but as Nady was never around anymore, he had serviced her to Kahn; although both she and the reagon could not help but feel that it was more of a glorified-babysitting job than anything else.
She kicked her own horse to increase her speed. The reagon was particularly excited today; he reflected her silent excitement – she too had missed the Highborn.
Kahn laughed as he looked back to see how much distance he had accumulated between them before he pulled his horse to a break and stuck wiped sweat from his brow. He chuckled again as Dane shook her head at him when she finally caught up.
Although the Fred had very much employed the services of Dane, and one could not tell it at first, but Kahn knew that the Fred much rather considered Dane as an adopted daughter.
He did, however, know for certain that he could intrust his children’s life to her services. For she, young as she was, was a talented Renablade; a controversial class of warspring derived from ancient Valhardon Codes.
Renablades were forged upon the birth of a carrier with the rare genex; by mixing a drop of their blood with the likes of blacksteele and magiks that bind the wielder and blade as one frequent. Dane’s golden hilted blade, named Dorion, was sheathed as usual by her side.
Kahn had never seen it drawn in the five years that Dane had been around. Fred Pharon had forbidden her, like him, from the likes of battle; unless of course it was a matter of urgency.
In his love for Dane, Kahn would hate to see her have to utilise her weapon in such a matter; for it was of the renablade’s way to increase the strength of their blades by the means of feeding it more of its wielder’s blood.
It was for this reason that Dane was always clothed in full Pheax attire, in spite of Fred Pharon permitting her casual wear. On days as warm as these, a frequent within these parts of Dellfelldell, Kahn could not help but pity her.
Nady had told him that Dane dressed so in order to hide the scars of her past. Judging by the lack of shine she emanated for as long as he had known her, Kahn was sure it could not have been an easy one.
Kahn enjoyed the company of Dane, in spite of how strictly she maintained his father’s strict rules. She did not speak much in response, unless of course in order to assist the young reagon’s way of thinking when his theories or suggestions were too wild.
“You excited to see Nady?” He asked, catching almost the hint of a small smile as Dane's unfocused eyes seemed distracted into the distance.
"I am thrilled to see the Highborn, yes." said Dane. “She always has such stories of her Mastria.”
“I am most excited to meet these frehan-galeons of hers. Do you reckon they will be as strong as she is?”
Dane stiffened; for the Fred had forbidden her to go as far as discuss battle with the reagon; she narrowed her eyes as she noticed the spaces between the trees get thinner. The reagon was pushing it again; as he often did. She groaned.
“Reagon Kahnabier, we are getting closer to the bounds,” she said. “We should perhaps start heading back; the Highborn should be here by this dial.”
Instead, Kahn dismounted his horse, with a naughty smile on his bright young face.
“Honestly, Dane, doesn’t it strain your poor vocal cords to call me by every title other than by the name I prefer?” Dane did not soften. Kahn chuckled before clearing his throat and speaking formally: “Dismount your horse, warden Danextra Hydenryke.”
The reagon was testing her again; to make as little strain of it as possible, she followed through with his command and dismounted her tall brown horse. She eyed the reagon suspiciously as he reached into his pouch and brought out a scroll. Raising his eyebrows at her daringly as he unrolled it.
A whitesteele bladed sword with a red hilt articulated in the shape of a dragon's claw, fell from the scroll and before Kahn's feet; missing his boot by a few inches. Dane gasped almost in horror. The reagon was pushing it far beyond what was allowed at this point.
“Veasealeon,” Dane said. It was the name of the sword that Kindraught had forged for the reagon. Other than for the wizlord, she had been the only one whom the reagon had entrusted with the secret.
Forged as an experiment of Kindraught's; with the help of his old-friend, the Draegon Dreenix; it was said it would withstand any force and would never break. Dane wondered what the old-man was playing at by gifting Reagon Kahn this sword when it went against the rules of the fredon himself; but she was not of authority to question the Fred Pharon’s advisor. Deep down, she appreciated that the reagon had entrusted her with the secret; yet she could not allow him to push as he was. If any of the guards of Pheax were to spot them they would report her in an instant.
“Reagon Kahnabier!” she shot as he picked up the sword and held it in his grip before him with mighty strain; his face red; the blade shook before him. “Reagon Kahnabier – put that sword away!”
“N-no!” he forced another naughty smile. “I won't be seen as a weakling before those Galsertians. Draw your blade, Dane!” Dane shook her head furiously as she looked over her shoulder. “You promised me you would train with me one day!”
“One day when you are old enough to decide that battle is what you truly desire,” said Dane seriously. “You have been blessed enough to be gifted the choice. You disregard your father’s wishes for you and you disrespect the orders given to me by the Fred.”
In considering what Dane had said, Kahn dropped the heavy blade back to the ground and blushed mightily as he made a move for it.
It was then that the distant sound of galloping became apparent to them; drawing closer towards the space they occupied. Dane shot a hurried expression at Kahn and he tumbled in the rush to inscribe his sword within the scroll.
He turned to see the two white horses of great stature approach from a while away; one of which carried one whereas the other carried two of which he could see.
Allaana, Luciana and Tamoria, Pawnick restless in her pocket, approached and Kahn had to wipe his eyes as for a second as a trick of the light had him convinced him that he had seen horns on the horses. Nevertheless, as they approached, it seemed the only things out of place were their silver and rose-gold hairs and their tallness in comparison to his and Dane’s. He was also sure he detected faint glints of indigoes in one of their eyes.
Allaana had told the girls to act as casual as possible as they approached the two, who had not stopped looking at them since their appearance.
"Bless and Grace upon Asdues, famzels," said Kahn with a polite bow and a smile. The girls gave their warmest greetings as the yunicorns went about acting the best horses they could; it was of their magik to be able to manipulate the perceived spectrum of others around them; and their horns could be hidden in this way too. Dane however, stood stern and expressionless. It was unlike her to be unkind to those who visited her home of Pheax. Yet she was on duty at guarding the reagon. "You are on your way to Pheax?"
"Bless and Grace," said Allaana with a small smile. "We are indeed."
"What business does three young famzels have at Pheax?" asked Dane sharply.
Allaana dared not look at Tamoria or Luciana on the disguised Skaladapi behind her.
"Forgive Dane, she is on duty," smiled Kahn awkwardly. "With recent events unfolding in Dellfelldell, she has been instructed to be on high alert."
"I understand," said Allaana. For they had experienced it first hand and had narrowly escaped it yet again. "We are um..." she thought of the things her father had told her of Pheax. "We are passing through Pheax to see the great attractions it beholds. Like the Central Hordial... we also heard of an ancient teleportation device that leads to the top of Mount Pheax."
"Oh, and maybe we can meet Dreenix," piped Luciana.
"Ah the good ol' boring Hordial," said Kahn. But Dane was suspicious. She could not help but sense that these three hooded girls were hiding something. "Dreenix however, has been in quite the mood as of late. Been giving old Kindraught a multitude of problems. That teleportal-thingy has also not worked for as long as it can be remembered.”
“Oh,” said Allaana thinking quickly. “Yet we can still see the ancient device, right?”
Kahn shrugged, “Meh, if you would like... it's really nothing special.”
Dane observed carefully the three hooded girls before her; not paying much attention to their horses. She was in her right mind to ask them to remove their hoods as her feelings of auspice would not subside.
"Please clarify your intentions," said Dane a little too sharply.
Tamoria, whose legs were numb from being seated upon Skaladapi for dials on end, was sick of sitting on the edge of her seat while Pawnick meowed in frustration in her pocket, could not stop herself:
"What are you two doing out here?" she asked rather curtly. "You don't seem much older than I do. And this wally is still a child. Why do you question us?"
Dane looked most offended at this while Kahn turned to her blushing.
"You speak here with the reagon of Pheax," said the renablade coolly. "I am his warden and guardian."
Allaana turned to Tamoria with sharpness. Tamoria lowered her head.
"Apolothanks," said Allaana hurriedly. "We are just tired and..."
"Bless up, famzels," said Kahn just as hurriedly. "Please be on your way to Pheax. And may I suggest you book into the Felix Hotel in-between the town and marketing districts in the first domain. They have stables for your fine horses; and do not ask plenty Delly for the stay. "
Allaana chuckled sweetly with relief and gave the young reagon her kindest of smiles.
"You heard the reagon," she said to the ladies. " Bless up, kind reagon." she nodded with intent to Dane as well, who stood stern as the three girls on their large horses, riding without saddles, greeted them and trotted off in the direction of Pheax.
Dane shot a serious expression at Kahn. Who shrugged.
"They were utmost suspicious, Reagon Kahnabier," she remarked. "We must be on high alert after what had happened at Apalorn."
"The famzel spoke the Apolothanks, Dane," said Kahn. "You'll never hear a bad guy have the guts to say that."
“The real word is not the stories your guardians sang you to sleep to,” Dane said meaningfully; she was however happy to see him pocket the scroll which contained his sword, albeit with a sigh of defeat.
"We best get back to palace to greet Nady," he said. "I do miss her. It feels it has been ages."
Dane mounted her horse as the reagon gave a kick to get his moving. The trees began to widen in space as they gained momentum and reached the wide-open fields of the valley. Adrenalin pumping, Kahn spotted a crow flying overhead; he thought it strange, for crows never passed these parts of Dellfelldell due to their conflicts and wars with the deloovians. Kahn was never one to be overly superstitious, but he was reminded of something his wise old mentor had once told him:
“The old Evalend ways are to read between the lines and to find the actualities within the dualities; what lies between, say, two white horses and one black crow? And why do the Hellsuns speak of the Cry of The Crows while here in Pheax we speak of the Spark of Deloovians? Do we see the crow as a vision death for our perpetrators see it as a symbol of their believes, or do we look beyond what we are told to see. When you see a crow, what do you see? And I am not looking for an answer, young reagon.”
Two white horses and one black crow; Kahnabier Pharon could not help but wonder what it could possibly mean.
“What is it Kindraught calls the irony of the truth beyond our thoughts and sight?” Kahn called over to Dane.
Dane groaned as she watched the crow overhead fly over the mountain-walls of Pheax.
“A haron,” she said; for she was a superstitious one; and her feelings of mistrust and the visions of her past made her ever more alert of the times they found themselves in. Yet she could not help but feel a surge of excitement the closer to Nady they came.
The Flare-Warroyers, led by Nady, made their way over to the dining hall to meet with the fredon for lunch around mid-day, the shadow of the palace falling over the sixth dial on the outside. Fred Pharon was of warm spirits as they seated themselves. "We're just waiting for Kahnabier," said he.
The doors came open and in walked the young reagon and his renablade warden. He smiled at each of then warmly. Chrys felt their presence fill the room, and had to stop himself from looking at them to long; for the girl with the shaven head was a foreign sort of beauty unlike he had ever seen; and the young reagon had a warmth about him that Chrys had never felt before.
"Hello Galsertians," he said.
"Kahnabier, you're here!" announced the Fred proudly. Chrys watched with mild curiosity as Nady got from her seat to make her way over to him.
"Kahn," she smiled as she embraced him. "Have you been well?"
"I've been all right," Kahn smiled as he observed his sister. She looked somewhat more experienced than what he could remember. Having only seen her for a brief period during the past year.
Chrys found they were slightly similar in appearance; yet unlike his sister, he was not as strong as the other boys his age were back at Galserta.
"Dane!" Nady embraced the renablade who seemed to soften in her grasp.
"Highborn Nadanae," Dane smiled rarely, but Nady had been lucky enough to catch it when they did occur.
"Flare-Warroyers," Nady turned to her formation smiling brightly. "This is my brother Kahn, and my good frehan-galeon Dane."
The Flare-Warroyers greeted with a variety of different tunes whilst Chrys remained silent. His eyes on the reagon, whose eyes were moving from Chrys to the sheathed sword placed next to him against the table.
Kahn's green eyes rested on him for a while with a soft yet curious gaze. Chrys could not help but stare deeply back into them. They both shook themselves back to themselves when Nady led Dane and Kahn to their seats next to her.
Kahn barely sat before their eyes met again.
"You're the wallan with the Fyrevere?" he asked directly. Dane realized this as she shot a dark look from Chrys to the sword next to him. He caught her eye in the moment; there was a penetrating coldness about her that made him feel the utmost uncomfortable, and yet the strength in her aura was eminent. He looked back to Kahn managing only to sigh inwardly, before her cold beauty overwhelmed him too much.
"I am... Yeah," said Chrys and Nady's tension eased instantly.
"Now Kahnabier, our guests have barely settled," said the fredon as he clapped his hands together. Five maidens appeared on either side of the hall carrying steaming plates of a variety of Pheaxian delicacies to the table. "There will be plenty a time for formalities."
Kahn's eyes did not move off of Chrys. Chrys's attention darted back and forth to the dishes brought forth before them; the aromas seducing him, yet he could feel Kahn was still staring at him with those big doe eyes that were very much like his sister’s. As obnoxious as it was to be stared at by the him, Chrys did not feel the same sense of heaviness as he did under Dane's icy glare.
"Please Galsertians, dig in and know this fred is proud of you all for rising up to the Good Fight," said Fred Pharon with a proud smile. "Congratulations on achieving your Aventier upgrade!"
Nady was the first to make the movement to dish up some of her favourite salads; when the flavours hit her plate the rest of them dived in. "Ooh could you pass me that," said Tommo next to Chrys, eyeing steak-lets out of reach to him. Chrys reached for the steak-lets; stationed before Kahn; who put a fork to his mouth with unwavering eyes. Chrys handed the dish to Tomo.
"That goes well with this," said Kahn excitedly with a mouth full of food and he handed Chrys a sauce boat with a warm gravy. Chrys took it from him; their skins of their fingers touched just ever so slightly and a small static pulsation shocked between both; Kahn's eyes widened but Chrys applied the gravy to the steak-lets that Tomo had kindly put to his plate; doing his best to think nothing of it. The rest of the table were all occupied with the wonderful dishes before them.
"Another haron," Kahn said to Dane, who, Chrys found, even with a mouth full of food, was looking at him with narrowed eyes that displayed all her distrust. "That’s how many now today!"
Chrys did not give the reagon's words any attention as he narrowed his eyes back at Dane; the two chewed away at their food without breaking eye contact. Chrys was not going to stand down from her challenge or suspicions. He cared little for what others thought and would not break her gaze until she looked away first.
Kahn noticed the building tension, unlike the others who went about indulging and only speaking up when expressing their enjoyment or when asking a comrade to pass another condiment.
"Uh, Dane?"
Dane blinked and looked at Kahn. He shook his head at her politely and she turned her attention back to her plate. Kahn looked over to Chrys, whose eyes remained narrowed in defence, and gave him a wink. Chrys blinked and dug his fork back into his salads.
"Dad, what have you in store for our formation over the course of our stay?" Nady asked, putting a napkin to her chin, and pushing her plate away from her after a while.
"I've left the mission planning up to Kindraught," he said. "He should be ready for you lot by the time the rest have finished. He said he could use quite a bit of help around Pheax as of late."
"I'm very excited to meet Kindraught," Ripple piped up. Halori, her room-mate, placed on a dwelve-stool to level her with her comrades, nodded excitedly next to her.
"As is Kindraught to meet all of you," said Kahn rolling his eyes with a smile and landing them on Chrys. "Hasn’t stopped talking about the Phaeonix ever since Nady sent us word that the Flareswords had suddenly happened."
Chrys was taken aback by this.
"Well not all of us have received a Flaresword..." said Whisp. Chrys detected a certain offence taken in his tone and he could feel a mild sense of agreement coming from a few others. Nady stepped on Kahn's foot under the table.
"Erm," he said. “He was most curious to know as well which of you has the wyvern?”
"I'm a wyvernite," said Spiere, but then came his blush. “But I haven’t manifested my wyvern yet.”
Nady cleared her throat as Lelie made a move for more of the bread; it seemed as if she were the only one going in for seconds; all others seemed stuffed.
"I think we best get to Kindraught so we can get that out of the way; I'm most curious to know if he considered any of my suggestions.”
"Oh, please may I join them, dad?" Kahn asked over to the Fred.
Fred Pharon looked over to Nady, who quickly checked to see if she could spot any resistance from her formation before giving him a nod.
"All right, then," said Fred Pharon. "Dane, you know the rules... Any sign of a weapon being drawn and you bring him right home."
Kahn rolled his eyes but threw a wink at Chrys. Chrys sighed inwardly; wondering why he did not mind having the young reagon join them as he prepared himself to meet the lender who could possibly bring an end to his confusion.
Nady, Dane and Kahn led the Flare-Warroyers beyond the runed remains which lay beyond the encryption of Venstven upon the central hordial; which happened to be the dial of the moment. They went up a hill of which seemed most unoccupied; leading to the far ends of the Pheax bounds; beyond which the blue mountains that led further off into Dellfelldell stood high over them.
There, they found but a single tiny hut, of which a faint blue smoke was emitting out of the chimney.
“Kindraught!” called Nady happily. “Guess whose home!”
The door swung open and the wizlord had to duck to make his way out from his lair
“... Only then will Theneathea reappear!” he finished the recital as his small ancient grey eyes came up to look straight at Chrys. “The harons have declared!”
Kindraught the Wizlord had been named so many times in his ancient life that he himself had forgotten most of them; nevertheless, he was well revered and respected from across the Evalend globe, and dare I say it, time. He was six-hundred and eighteen years of age upon this cycle around Samsora, yet not seem much older than Meastre Garbell back at Galserta. His long grey hair dangled down his back whilst his beard was plaited down his front. His eyes of faded greys and reflected the wisdom of the ages as he smiled widely at the Flare-Warroyers; more specifically when he identified Chrys by the familiar hilt showing over his shoulder.
The image of Chrys had held of Kindraught was instantly shattered; Chrys could tell this was by far the strongest of auras he had ever come across.
“Bless and Grace upon Asdues, Flare-Warroyers,” he said holding out his hands. “I must compliment you all on the fine name you lot have selected; a haron if I've ever come across one.”
“Bless and grace, Kindraught,” smiled Nady; she could tell her comrades were entranced by the celebrity before them.
Kindraught came forth and shook the hand of the nearest Warroyer and asked of him his name; Whisp stuttered his reply as did the others; it was only Halori, Ripple and Lelie who shook the old man's hand with confidence.
And of course, when Kindraught was before Chrys, he stared deeply into his eyes and nodded at him. There were stories in the mind behind those eyes that Chrys could never dream to fathom.
“Chrysleon Kion,” said Kindraught reaching out his hand. “It is an honour to meet the Elector's Yuna.”
Chrys took the wizlord's hand in his; the grip far sterner that what he had expected; yet the hand felt rough and lined with history; that much was undeniable.
“Bless and Grace, Kindraught,” Chrys nodded. “I can't say I know what you mean.”
Kindraught chuckled happily. “We have all the time in Evalend to catch up. Here where they say Time began, of all places. The harons of late have been coming through strong.”
“Harons?” Chrys raised his brow.
“Another Pheaxian term,” said Que. “Its meaning is one similar to synchronization in harmonic resonance but between opposite spectrums; almost sort of like finding an answer by interpreting the opposite of what is perceived.”
Kindraught winked at her. “Right you are Highborn Quezen. Love letters from the Scaeons, as I call them.”
Que blinked for a second; for Kindraught had just referred to her with a royal title. Kahn on the other hand; wondered if the discussion in itself was another haron.
“Kindraught, what is it you told me about that static shock that occurs when you meet someone new?”
“Ah that is a fun one,” said Kindraught smiling at the reagon. “It could mean that you have met this lender in a past life; or that you have met someone who will teach you great lessons on your journey.” Kahn shot a smile at Chrys. “However, I have also heard that it could mean that you have met the person who would spell your demise.” The smile became a wide-eyed shot of horror. “The wise say a haron is what you make of it. The Omnivalors play the notes but you choose what words to sing; whilst others choose what they want to hear. However, it takes self-training to interpret the harons deeply, or else it all falls down to a sub-consensual level; that is to say, we see it for what our subconsciousness projects; as untrained individuals will often interpret through precognitive judgments they have installed upon their realities.”
Chrys sighed inwardly, not sure he cared much for any of these suspicions however he sensed the rest if Flare-Warroyers consider it around him.
“My father said you have derived some tasks for us during our stay at Pheax?” asked Commander Nady to cut the silence.
“Indeed,” said Kindraught. “In fact, I have a special guest waiting inside for you in regards.”
The wizlord winked at them and turned to his tiny hut before ducking himself back in and seemingly disappearing.
“I don't think we're all going to fit in there,” said Borrin guiltily.
Chrys could barely understand how Kindraught alone could fit in there, let alone another. However, Kahn chuckled as Nady followed after the wizlord; Chrys rolled his eyes right into Dane's direction to catch hers rolling towards him. They both looked away awkwardly at the coincidence and followed after the rest of the Flare-Warroyers. Of course, just as Kindraught had been, as was his space unlike anything Chrys had initially expected.
For it was but a staircase that spiralled far down into a much larger bunk; he descended with high curiosity while his comrades expressed their delights at the sceneries that came into sight upon reaching of the foot of stairs. Between shelving that spread out across the lair burned a spectacular white flamed blue fire that illuminated the space magnificently before a very long couch. The rest of the space seemed dedicated as a working dock for Kindraught's veracious hobbies and jobs; including a large table with many stools around it; the table littered with scrolls filled with blue-prints and studies.
A lady sat up from the couch and smiled at the group upon arrival.
“Elder Lezonga!” said Nady happily and the two hugged.
Elder Lazonga came to Nady's chin in height; her ears long and pointy like Ripple's. Chrys guessed right in thinking she was of a branch of evflish descend; yet he had never seen an evflish like her around at Galserta. Her skin was olive-brown and shone almost laminated; the creases in her face resembling the annual lines of a stub of tree.
“Highborn Pharon, it is always a pleasure.”
“Warroyers, this is Elder Lazonga, one of the five elds of the wood-evflish community of Pfiffer in the domain.”
“Please all,” said Kindraught, showing all to his couch before the blue-white fire. The couch was ancient in itself, yet as comfortable as the beds were back at the palace. It seated all of the Flare-Warroyers, as well as the elder, the reagon and the renablade.
“Mister Kindraught,” said Flint, eyeing the magnificent piece of magic before him. “I have never seen a fire with such vlam in all my studies?”
Kindraught nodded; stepping before the white-blue fire in order to address the group formerly.
“One of my own creations,” said Kindraught. “Combined a couple of theories and applied them to my fyre-based artillery of magik and came up with a spell that burns a fire which motivates oxygen, rather than to consume it. Perhaps I will share with you the recipe during your stay.” Flint exchanged a surprised glance with Whisp. “Right, Flare-Warroyers, the fred and I have summoned you here from our neighbour Galserta in order for you lot to assist us with a couple of tasks over the course of the next couple of days.
“We shall divide the twelve of you in to two pairs - the famzels and the wallans; Elder Lazonga, would you like to inform the Highborn what you will require of them?”
The elder nodded promptly. “Fred Pharon has notified the elds that he would like to congratulate the students returning home from their full graduations from the Akala-Aladius Alphatron. by hosting a sockstomp upon the eve of the upcoming Astrio. We are very proud of them for accomplishing their graduations, and would like to thank them for making Pheax proud before they scatter to Apolostrials to join the Valechorus around Evalend. We ask of the famzels of your formation to assist in all the arrangements for this surprise gathering. ”
“A sockstomp!” Nady looked excitedly to the rest of her formation; however, most of them looked back at her with confusion.
“What's a sockstomp?” asked Lelie.
“A sockstomp is a traditional Therom dance,” said Que.
“It's the proper way to celebrate,” said Nady. “I haven't had a good stomp in ages!”
Lelie, who had always fantasized of dancing in the fredominions she had heard of back at Galserta, exchanged excited glances with the rest of the girls. Chrys personally hoped that his group would be assigned something more daunting.
“When do we start with the arrangements?” Commander Nady turned back to the elder.
“Fred Pharon has offered the hall of the palace to host as mainstage for event,” said the elder. “You famzels can go about with the arrangements as you please. We do request that you get all of your supplies from Pfiffer; to show support to the smaller communities of Pheax.”
“As for the wallans,” Kindraught said; Chrys held his breath. “We will be asking you to assist in relieving some of our staff of Pheax from their extra duties of having to guard Dreenix.”
Nady gasped almost in shock.
“Whose Dreenix?” asked Tomo wide-eyed.
“Sounds familiar to me,” said Spiere, rubbing his chin.
“Dreenix is only the most famous Dragyre to be alive and tame on Evalend,” said Que, rolling her eyes at the lack of knowledge her comrades continuously proved. “He is said to charge a small fortune for great stories of the Evalend history.”
“Although,” Kahn giggled. “Kindraught says that he does not always speak the truth.” Kindraught chuckled at this.
“What is a Dragyre?” asked Lelie, and Chrys was grateful that she did; for he had only ever read of dragons, and they were said to be far fiercer than what he's Level was adept for. It excited him.
“Dragyres are said to be hybrids the extinct Drachordians created with other legendary beings,” said Que, although she looked to Kindraught for reassurance. The wizlord winked at her.
“Indeed Highborn Quezen. Dreenix is the only one I believe still to be alive on Evalend today. He is very tame and wise and enjoys to share space with lenders different from himself.”
Chrys searched for an image to paint all that was being said around him. Fascinated at the very least and keen to meet this Dreenix.
“Why would he need to be guarded if he were tame?” asked Whisp; seeming nervous at the task at hand. Kindraught sighed ever so slightly while Kahn giggled.
“Dreenix has been … having a couple of episodes as of late,” said the wizlord; not looking at them, yet smiling nonetheless. “Black outs if you will.”
“Nearly fried one of the guards just the other night,” said Kahn, looking at his sister's formation darkly.
“Hush Kahn,” said Commander Nady sharply, blushing in her cheeks while Whisp closed his jaw.
“Mogadi,” he said, gulping. “Would you be so kind as to swap roles with me for this mission?”
“Mogadi would be delighted to meet Dreenix,” said Mogadi in relief; for she was not one who knew much of organizing events; although she loved to dance.
“Right then,” said Nady. “Let us then get a move on to Pfiffer; there is a fine material store where we can brain-storm décor such as drapings and the works. Dane, Kahn, will you be joining us?”
“With great pleasure, Highborn,” nodded Dane; however, the reagon pouted.
“I was hoping to stick around with the wallans,” he said; throwing a quick look at Chrys.
“You heard daddy,” said Nady sharply. “The wallans are to be briefed on how to manage Dreenix; it is beyond your -”
“Oh, let him stay, Nady,” said Kindraught with a twinkle in his eye. Nady always considered Kindraught amongst her favourite of people, for he always respected her in her choices; it was always comforting to hear the name she preferred over the many titles that had to come before it. “We won't be talking any battles or violence,” the wizlord reassured. He winked over to the reagon. Nady sighed but nodded as her younger brother fist bumped the air.
“Right, we'll be off,” said the commander of the Flare-Warroyers. “Feel free to explore Pheax when all formalities with Kindraught have been sorted. We will meet for supper on the first dial of the night.”
Nady smiled as she nodded to the elder to lead the way out of Kindraught's hut. Halori, Ripple, Que, Dane, Whisp and Lelie, giving Chrys one quick last glance, followed after the wood-evflin. Kindraught clapped his hands together.
“Right, wallans, and Highborn Mogadi," said Kindraught. "Now, there are four shifts a day of six dials each in regards to guarding the dragyre. Because Dreenix, small as he is in spite of his age, is a skilled warroyer himself, you will share these shifts amongst yourselves and some of our Pheax guard. Two shifts will be taken by the likes of the Flare-Warroyers; the late shift at the fifth dial of the night, and the mid-day shift at the sixth dial. You will be accompanied by the likes of either myself or one of the two royal guards of Pheax. Any questions?”
"Why is Dreenix so unstable? " Spiere asked.
Kindraught looked over to Chrys with a smile. "I theorise, but I believe Dreenix is growing ever more impatient the closer he gets to facing his fears and memories. "
"What do you mean?" asked Chrys.
"I theorise yet again, but Dreenix seems to be connected with the appearance of the Flareswords."
Chrys blinked at Kindraught while his comrades turned to him. Chrys caught Flint's eye and could feel the faintest spark of envy reflecting back at him. He could not help but sigh inwardly at what the old man was saying; it sounded rather absurd to say the least.
"So, what can the Flare-Warroyers expect when faced with Dreenix. " Asked Mogadi. Chrys found the smile on her face to be soothing.
"On a good day, Dreenix can tell you many things of Evalend long forgotten to history, yet as of late the poor walleon has been spewing everything from curses to fire at his fellow Pheaxians.” said the wizlord with a touch of sad.
Spiere gasped. Flint chuckled. "He won't get me," said the Flame Magi. "I am fire."
Kindraught laughed at the expressions on the Flare-Warroyers before them. To Chrys it sounded like a suicide mission. Especially if this Dreenix's outbursts seemed to be linked with his sword; he slapped himself mentally at his own contrariness.
"Not to worry, Flare-Warroyers," said Kindraught. "I am sending you off to the district of Frope in Cixtridri domain to be fitted with redsteele armour. That of which you can keep as a tip for your services."
Chrys, who knew little of the properties of any of the dwelvish-steels, raised his eyebrow.
"Well, that's comforting," said Borrin. "Redsteele is of the finest elemental absorbent steels around."
"Besides of course for blacksteele." said Tomo.
"We won't require more than elemental coverage," Kindraught smiled.
"I myself can become fire proof," said Flint. Putting a comforting hand on Spiere’s shoulder.
"Bless up!" said Kindraught delightedly. "A Magik I only mastered in my second century around Samsora."
Tomo gasped. Mogadi herself narrowed her eyes at the wizlord. Kindraught chuckled at the look on the eyes of the barbara's face. Chrys found himself wondering the next question.
"How old are you, Kindraught?" it was Spiere who dared to ask.
"I am just a little over my sixth century around Samsora," he laughed at the look on their faces.
"How old is Dreenix, if Mogadi may ask?"
"I believe Dreenix is double my age. One thousand two hundred orbits around Samsora."
The Flare-Warroyers could not process this. Chrys felt like a grain of sand in comparison to the wizlord; it baffled his comprehension.
Spiere sighed nervously but managed a chuckle. "Well, when do we get to meet this Dragyre of Pheax? I cannot wait to hear the stories he has to tell."
"We are having the guards on extra-duty finish their studies and reports of their findings on Dreenix's behaviour. We shall start your shifts at upon the fourth dial tonight. I would like if Chrys, Flint and Spiere could take the first mission. I shall accompany you.”
Kindraught smiled as he watched the group before him look to one another with mixed expressions of excitement. He had taken this time of explanation carefully to observe Chrys; but was surprised when he found that the reality of the boy was as vague as the news of him had been. This was exhilarating to Kindraught; as it was not often, he came across things that did not unravel easily to his understanding. Kindraught winked over to the reagon who was reflecting all his inner most excitement right back at him.
“Kahn, you shall escort them to Frope for their fittings?”
Kahn smiled at the responsibility and the time the wizlord was granting him with the bunch of exciting students his sister had brought home with her.
“For sure!” he smiled at Chrys as all the dimples on his face creased. “Follow me, Flare-Warroyers!”