image [https://img.wattpad.com/5a096722962ad16b37d9eb1af86926b3ac6238a9/68747470733a2f2f73332e616d617a6f6e6177732e636f6d2f776174747061642d6d656469612d736572766963652f53746f7279496d6167652f6a32636a414f36694e44685a39513d3d2d313339383437303538362e313739636565623531663035666462333139333139393131363731312e6a7067?s=fit&w=1280&h=1280]
The night was drawing to a close, and the rescue party and villagers had worked hard to complete their mission. It was finally time for them to sit back and enjoy themselves in the main hall of the courthouse, where the villagers in the main hall mostly women and children gathered around in anticipation.
Victor, the flamboyant actor-turned-smuggler took the center of the make-believe stage made by women and children sitting in a half circle around him. His eyes sparkled with excitement as he began retelling the enchanting tale of Syndrilla.
"Ladies and gentlemen, gather 'round and listen closely, for I shall transport you to a world of magic and wonder. This is the story of Syndrilla, a young maiden whose spirit shines brighter than any star in the night sky."
The villagers leaned in, eager to embark on this captivating journey. Victor's voice resonated with warmth and enthusiasm as he continued the tale.
"Once upon a time, in the land of Albion, there lived a maiden named Syndrilla. After her beloved father's passing, she found herself under the watchful eye of her wicked stepmother and three stepsisters. They were as cruel as the biting winds of winter, treating Syndrilla as nothing more than a servant in her own home."
The villagers gasped, empathizing with Syndrilla's plight. Victor's animated gestures and expressive voice drew them deeper into the story.
"But fate had something grand in store for our dear Syndrilla. A grand ball was announced by the king himself for the coming age of the prince, and all the maidens of the kingdom were invited to attend. It was a chance for the prince, the king's own son, to find his true love."
Whispers of excitement spread through the crowd as they imagined the lavish ballroom and the anticipation that filled the air.
"Syndrilla's stepmother and stepsisters were consumed by their own vanity, eagerly preparing for the ball. But poor Syndrilla was left behind, burdened with her never-ending chores. Little did she know that her selflessness and kindness would lead her on a journey beyond her wildest dreams."
Victor's voice grew softer, filled with sympathy as he recounted Syndrilla's misfortune.
"On the day of the ball, one of her stepsisters, caught up in the frenzy, forgot her shoes at home. Syndrilla, always compassionate, set out to bring her sister the forgotten footwear. But when she arrived at the castle gate, she was met with disdain. The guards, believing her unworthy of dirty clothes and shoes would sully the hall, refused her entry."
The villagers shook their heads, their hearts going out to Syndrilla.
"However, fate intervened in the form of a disguised prince. He saw the commotion and, captivated by Syndrilla's kindness, ordered the guards to let her pass. The guard refuses as he doesn't recognize him."
"She took off her dirty shoes but it was still not enough. The disguised prince then initiated to piggyback her so she wouldn't sully her feet."
"Why doesn't she wear the new shoes?" the not-knowing children asked.
"In the corridor, she met one of her sisters waiting by the bench. In an act of selflessness, Syndrilla put on the new shoes meant for her stepsister, while she herself remained barefoot to preserve the pristine carpets."
"She can wear the new shoes but she doesn't want to wrinkle before her sister wears them. She wishes for her sister to captivate the prince with the new shoes."
A collective sigh escaped the villagers' lips, touched by Syndrilla's sacrificial act.
"Outside the castle, the disguised prince and Syndrilla found solace in a secluded garden. It was there, amidst the fragrant blossoms and twinkling stars, that their souls connected. Love bloomed between them, transcending the barriers of class and circumstance."
Victor's voice grew tender as he painted a picture of love against all odds.
"Eventually, the prince revealed his true identity, declaring his love for Syndrilla and asking for her hand in marriage. Enraged by the news, the stepmother made Syndrilla held by her stepsisters, and slice off her face with scissors enough to make her face turn into a grotesque sight."
All eyes were on Victor, who was so naturally comfortable under the imaginary spotlight. His talent for acting was clear, and it was evident that he had a special gift.
"Despite the cruel actions of her stepmother and stepsisters, who marred her face with scissors in a fit of jealousy, Syndrilla's inner beauty could not be diminished."
The villagers gasped in disbelief, their hearts filled with sympathy for Syndrilla's trials and admiration for her resilience.
"The prince, despite her grotesque sight, was enchanted by Syndrilla's true beauty and married her without hesitation. In an act of justice, he ordered the execution of her wicked stepsisters. Yet, in a moment of compassion, Syndrilla pleaded for their lives to be spared. Moved by her mercy, the prince banished the stepmother and stepsisters from the kingdom."
Victor's voice echoed with the complexity of human emotions, weaving a tapestry of forgiveness and redemption.
"But fate had its own plans. When the stepmother and stepsisters, were exiled from the kingdom, they fell into the clutches of slavers and were taken to a distant land. Meanwhile, Syndrilla, now crowned as queen, chose to don a mask engraved with her previous beauty. From that day forward, she became known as Syndrilla the Queen in the Mask, believed to be one among the ancestors of Wessen's royal bloodline."
A hush fell over the villagers as they absorbed the tale's profound message of inner beauty and the power of forgiveness.
"And so, my dear friends, let us remember the tale of Syndrilla as a reminder that true beauty lies within the depths of one's heart. It teaches us that kindness and forgiveness can triumph over cruelty and envy, leading to a life filled with love, joy, and the grace of royalty."
Victor's voice swelled with emotion, and the villagers erupted into applause, grateful for the enchanting story that had transported them to a world of magic and hope.
⁕⁕⁕
Aden watched Victor's performance from the corner window in the main hall, where all the villagers had taken shelter. He sipped his cotton milk from a wooden mug savoring the refreshing taste as it slid down his throat while observing the scene with keen interest.
Ethan joined him shortly after, carrying a mug of ale. With their favored drinks in hand, Ethan initiated a conversation. "He loves that story," he remarked, nodding toward Victor. "He named his daughter after the protagonist."
"Syndrilla?" Aden inquired, his curiosity piqued.
"Yes, better than what his ex-wife gave her," Ethan replied, a hint of disdain in his voice.
From the moment Aden had been paired with Ethan, he had observed the smuggler member closely. Shifting his gaze towards Ethan, he posed a question, "And what's your story? You don't look like criminal material."
Ethan chuckled, "Oh, me?" He took a sip of his ale before continuing, "You were right, I'm not criminal material. I was a law enforcer in the Dellin Town, countryside of Lyondyn, the empire's capital city."
Aden's eyebrows raised in surprise. "A Crown Enforcer?"
"Yes, I was," Ethan affirmed.
"What brought you here, then?"
Ethan paused briefly, his expression turning somber. "Him," he said, nodding towards Victor.
"Him?" Aden exclaimed, disbelief evident in his tone. "You mean Victor?"
"Yes, Victor. He is the second most wanted man on the east coast of Wessen, not just in the empire." Ethan affirmed, his voice grave.
"Seriously?" Aden's eyes widened as he took another sip of his cotton milk, trying to process the revelation.
"Absolutely."
Aden's gaze shifted back to Victor, who was now regaling the audience with a tale about a girl and a rabbit hole. "How come?" he asked, puzzled. "He looks pretty harmless."
"Responsibility evasion," Ethan answered, his voice tinged with a hint of reproach.
"I'm sorry," Aden said, his brow furrowing in confusion. "Can you elaborate?"
Ethan took a deep breath before delving into the story. "He avoided paying alimony and child support. I was sent to arrest him. He told me to double-check his case, which I did, and it turned out his ex-wife was neglecting and abusing his daughter. So, I helped him escape."
The tale has been taken without authorization; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.
Aden listened intently, his curiosity growing with each revelation.
"He was a promising talent," Ethan continued. "A talent scout came to the town and took an interest in him. He gave up his only shot at becoming a star, performing on the grand Paragon Theatre in Lyondyn, for his wife."
Ethan leaned back against the wall, his gaze distant as he recounted the tale. "One year after his wife moved to Lyondyn, she filed for divorce and demanded half of the assets, alimony, custody, and child support."
Aden nodded, understanding dawning on his face.
"Because he didn't have a stable income as an actor, his wealthy merchant family had to endure the financial burden," Ethan explained. "Not long after, the Crest Crusaders and Battle Sisters came to his door and took away his daughter."
"That's awful," Aden murmured, his expression somber.
"A good-hearted informant gave information that the wench neglected and used their only daughter as a hostage for perpetual ransom, fully supported by the court of Aione," Ethan said, taking another sip of his ale. "So, he decided to retaliate. He said no to their demands."
"Any father would do the same as Victor did," Aden said, relating to the man's plight.
"He attempted to kidnap his own daughter, only to be foiled after that," Ethan added.
Aden's curiosity was piqued once more. "By whom?"
"By me," Ethan sighed, his gaze fixed on a painting of Aione framed on the wall above the hall.
Victor, having finished his storytelling, bowed as the crowd erupted in cheers, their spirits lifted despite the recent horror inflicted by the harpies.
"He begged me that he was innocent," Ethan continued, his voice carrying a tinge of regret. "Well, that's what every criminal would say."
Aden nodded in understanding, prompting Ethan to continue.
"Then he begged me to double-check, and when I had a chance to visit Lyondyn, I happened to check on the daycare," Ethan revealed.
"Unfortunately, he spoke the truth. His daughter was in perpetual daycare."
"Not in an orphanage?" Aden asked, his brow furrowed.
"Nope," Ethan confirmed. "The court of Aione would find out, so his ex-wife put his daughter in perpetual daycare, never allowing him to see her or take her out."
Aden shook his head in disbelief. "How could the court let this happen?"
"The court of Aione always favors women and believes men are criminals by default," Ethan spat bitterly. "Damned these New Way people."
He took another swig of his ale before continuing. "It's a rising trend among women in the empire's cities and towns under the Aione court. They would demand divorce straight after having a kid, demanding half the assets, alimony, and child support from the baby's father – three birds with one stone."
As Victor concluded his storytelling, bowing to the cheering crowd, Aden stood straight from his leaning position. "Okay, enough sightseeing," he said. "Let's go back to the war room and report to Captain Willem."
"Aye," Ethan replied, following Aden's lead.
The two men left the main hall, making their way around the courthouse towards the command center located in a pavilion behind it, ready to report on their actions during the evacuation task.
As the crowd's cheers subsided, Victor gracefully excused himself from his captivated audience of Serendale villagers. With a warm smile and a theatrical flourish, he promised to return shortly to regale them with the final tale of the night – the origin of the harpies.
⁕⁕⁕
In the pavilion, a few volunteers and knights had already assembled, with Captain Willem seated at the war table. Oliver, the temporary squire to the Imperial Knights, was present, while Marcus had just arrived before Aden to report on the hwacha.
Aden and Ethan presented their report on the recent evacuation task, debriefing every detail with the precision of seasoned soldiers addressing their superiors. Ethan excused himself promptly after delivering his account, while Aden remained to provide a comprehensive debrief of the survivor evacuation to Captain Willem.
Oliver's eyes remained fixed on Aden until Marcus dragged him away. At another desk beside Captain Willem, Gilbert sat silently scribing, attentively taking notes on every minute detail he heard.
Aden cleared his throat. "Permission to speak, Captain."
"Go ahead," Captain Willem granted.
"I believe the harpies are behind the burly guy's horrifying sight," Aden began. "They deliberately ate him in front of us as a morale attack, to scare us off." He paused, gathering his thoughts. "And somewhat, they also let the goblins create a roadblock to ambush us. They were circling above us when it happened."
Aden continued, his voice steady and measured. "When we rushed to the village to help the people from the harpy attack, they targeted our rear supply wagon, ripping the covers off one by one and focusing solely on destroying the supply wagon. It was as if they knew which one carried supplies and which one held siege weapons."
He locked eyes with Captain Willem. "Most likely, the recent village attack was just a diversion. They wanted to weaken us first, then create a diversion to take our supply wagon. It is clearly an organized attack."
Captain Willem leaned back, considering Aden's words. "What do you imply?"
"I believe they have someone, or something, coordinating them behind the curtain," Aden said, his tone grave. "Even for people, they are too organized."
"Hmm, I sense that too," Captain Willem mused. "In my whole experience, this is my first time against wildlings capable of launching such an organized attack with such... details." He paused, recalling his memories. "It's as if I'm fighting against the Lapins."
Gilbert's expression turned concerned at the mention of the Lapins – brute creatures resembling snow bears with long ears like rabbits, dwelling in the deep, snowy mountains and caves.
A knock at the door interrupted the silence, and Corporal Knightly entered the command center at Captain Willem's authorization.
"Gilbert, why don't you take a break with Aden?" Captain Willem suggested. "You both deserve it."
"Thank you for your insight, Aden," he said, placing a pawn on the map to mark the area where they had finished the survivor sweeping task. "You lads are dismissed for today. Assemble again by the first light tomorrow, here, with every volunteer."
As Gilbert packed his parchments and scribing utensils into his bag by the door, Aden couldn't help but notice a pair of unlikely items beside it – a flail and a round shield, weapons of choice for a one-man army.
After gathering his belongings, Gilbert and Aden headed towards the dining hall between the main hall and the kitchen.
"So, a flail and a shield, eh?" Aden inquired as they walked the corridor, his tone curious.
"Those are oddly chosen weapons."
"My uncle taught me to use them," Gilbert replied. "I don't know if they'll get any use against the harpies, but it's better to be prepared than regret it."
"Yes, correct," Aden agreed.
As they strolled through the open corridor, Gilbert asked, "Why did you tell Captain Willem your thoughts?"
"It's our custom to report to our superior before we're dismissed after each day's battle," Aden explained. "I have to give my insight – that's the purpose of debriefing every time the battle ends for the day. It allows the superior to gather intelligence as a tactical or strategic advantage."
They entered the closed corridor inside the courthouse, and Aden continued, "You should see the war journals written by the samurai. They even recorded how many rocks they threw at their enemies."
"No kidding?" Gilbert's eyebrows rose in surprise.
"Nope, ask that samurai, Maeda, if you don't believe me," Aden suggested with a hint of amusement. "That's how you win a war, my friend. Every detail matters."
As they traversed the open and closed corridors, a faint, vaguely familiar voice reached Aden's ears – a woman singing from afar.
Gilbert listened attentively as Aden continued, "And we are at war against the harpies. We should see them as what they are. With just a few encounters, I can tell that the harpies are cunning, smart, ruthless, and relentless creatures. Just because they don't wear clothes doesn't mean they can't make strategic plans. We should not underestimate them if we want to survive."
"Fair point," Gilbert concurred, his expression pensive.
As they approached the armory, an unsettlingly serene hymn echoed through the woods outside the courthouse, filling the air in the corridor with an oppressive stillness. It seemed to follow them, never letting them stray too far from its eerie earshot.
Aden turned to Gilbert, his expression serious. "We should not underestimate the harpies' intelligence," he said, his voice low. "I've heard stories that their sisters in the sea, the mermaids, know how to disable ships in Crescent Cove."
Gilbert's eyes widened in surprise. "Mermaids? Disable ships? I've never heard of such stories," he said, his voice filled with curiosity.
"It's true," Aden affirmed, his gaze focused intently on the end of the corridor. "You've heard about mermaids? Cunning and intelligent creatures with the power to use their voices to lure unsuspecting ships onto the rocks? It doesn't stop there; they can also damage a ship's rudder and sails. Once their victims are left helpless, mermaids revel in feasting on them until their ship is sent to the bottom of the sea."
Aden's tone grew darker as he continued, "The mermaids drag the sailors down to the depths of the sea and eat them alive while the sailors scream helplessly."
Gilbert shook his head in disbelief. "That's incredible," he murmured. "I had no idea mermaids could do that."
Aden nodded a hint of a smile playing on his lips. "It's easy to underestimate the power of the natural world," he said. "But we must remember that the harpies and their sisters are not to be taken lightly. They are intelligent and resourceful, and we must be prepared for anything."
Aden glanced out the corridor window into the woods, unable to shake the eerie hymn he'd been hearing since they started down this hallway.
"Did you hear that, Aden?" Gilbert motioned towards the woods, where an unsettling humming echoed through the air. The hazy droning seemed almost alive, sending chills down their spines as it descended upon them.
"Yes, I heard that," Aden replied, his brow furrowed. "Sounds like the Siren song the mermaids love to sing on some rocky coast."
"That's a harpy lullaby," Gilbert corrected him. "Fascinating, aren't they?"
Aden gave him a skeptical look. "Well, fascinating is not my word of choice to describe them."
Turning to Gilbert, Aden said, "This is the first time I've heard the harpy lullaby."
Gilbert replied with a twinkle in his eye, "That's right. We didn't get to see them when we first set up camp by the mountain outskirt." He added, "But now that we know they're here, maybe we should get used to it?"
Aden chuckled, appreciating the lighter mood. "I don't think we should."
Their good-natured humor helped them shift their focus from the unsettling harpy lullaby. Suddenly, Aden noticed a hunched figure slinking away from the pavilion war room, almost hidden in the shadows. The figure moved quickly and silently, glancing over his shoulder as if to ensure no one was watching.
"Who's that?" Aden murmured, his eyes narrowing.
"I don't know, I can't get a clear look, but it's definitely a man," Gilbert replied, his gaze following the mysterious figure.
"Is he stealing something?"
"I don't think so; he doesn't seem to be carrying anything. Should we check it out?"
"Yes, just in case."
As they searched for the mysterious figure that had been sneaking out of the garden in the backyard, they discovered Maeda sitting in a lotus position by the fountain, bathed in the pale moonlight. His katana was placed neatly beside him, arms resting gently on his thighs as he quietly meditated. There was a sense of peace and awe that emanated from him.
"Do you think it was him?" Gilbert asked, still unsure about the identity of the mysterious man they had glimpsed.
"No, the shadowed figure was taller and didn't have a topknot like him," Aden replied, noting the differences between Maeda and the person they had seen. Aden, Gilbert, and Maeda were among the shorter individuals in the rescue party.
"Maybe he saw something," Gilbert suggested, implying they should ask Maeda about the mysterious figure.
"Nah, I don't think so," Aden said, reluctant to interrupt Maeda's meditation.
Gilbert offered another suggestion, "Should we report this to the captain?"
"Yes," Aden replied, his vigilance evident. "Although our mysterious man may have just been some random person minding his own business, we can't afford to be careless."
Despite the serene scene of Maeda's meditation, a lingering sense of unease hung in the air, prompting Aden and Gilbert to consider informing Captain Willem about the enigmatic figure they had witnessed. While it could have been an innocuous occurrence, they knew better than to let their guard down, especially in times of heightened alert.
⁕⁕⁕