The world had changed, and Gaius knew it. This new Orb was different. The colours, the people, the ground, the sky…everything had changed in a manner that the boy couldn’t understand. He couldn’t give an answer as to what changed, but if he had to compare it to something else, it was as though as gravity had been weakened by twenty-five percent.
He wanted to immediately ask Nexus, but under the eyes of the others around him and the innocent-looking guards posted at obviously-not-strategic places around the garden, it was nothing short of a bad idea. An intelligent artefact was fairly rare, and would draw the wrong type of attraction to him.
Making sure that the look of relish was still on his face, Gaius continued to dig into the sausages. Their taste, however, seemed rather different compared to a minute or so ago. It was still delicious, and in fact, something else had been added into the flavour, so much so that the boy found himself licking his lips after he was done eating.
Whoever that just changed the world, surely you didn’t just do it to make sausages taste better, right? I’m quite sure that you angered the Human God or someone in doing so too! Gaius retorted in his head. He wasn’t too sure about what exactly happened, beyond the fact that a change occurred and that sausages tasted better now.
Cassandra returned with the woman she’d escorted, bringing her charge back into her seat. After exchanging a few more words, the woman snorted and left the garden entirely.
The Knight looked at the table, and then said, “We’ll now like to assess the rest of you. Everyone, please get up and follow me.”
Gaius looked at the guards that had taken up positions around them, and got up from his seat. There was no point in remaining anyway, given that the sausages were all gone.
With him taking the initiative to stand up and walk over, the others followed suit hurriedly. Cassandra shot a look of thanks at the little boy, who smiled back faintly, and then led the way into the mansion.
As the small group progressed down the path that led to the mansion, the greenery and flowers grew increasingly sparse, replaced by statues of marble. There were small nameplates at the pedestals each statue stood on. A name took up the top half of the steel plates, and a single one-liner, presumably the accomplishment that person depicted was most famous for, occupied the lower half.
Some of these one-liners were particularly amusing. One statue of a particularly beautiful woman was credited with the accomplishment of “giving birth to enough offspring for the next two generations.” Gaius really wanted to ask the sculptor and the people who were alive at that time what that sentence really meant, but it was a pity that no one was in the mood to talk.
A case of literary theft: this tale is not rightfully on Amazon; if you see it, report the violation.
The boy suppressed the urge to laugh, and continued to scan the other statues. None of them were as outstanding as the above statue, and as the group progressed towards the end of the path, the boy noted a shift towards warlike achievements.
His eyes paused on the last statue, and Gaius couldn’t help but read the words on it out loud. “Blackstone Copperfield. Progenitor of House Varita. Used a stick-like artefact called the Blasting Rod to hold off an invasion from the East alone, saving the Southern troops from a total rout.”
Cassandra stopped moving as Gaius spoke these words out loud. “Oh, you’re interested in our history?”
The others also gathered around the statue, clearly relieved that someone had broken the burgeoning silence. Within seconds, everyone else had voiced their interest in the progenitor of House Varita, and the Knight was forced to give a small lecture in her House’s history.
“…and so, with Progenitor Blackstone’s triumphant return, he was able to extract an oath out of the other Houses, that his bloodline would forever remain in the Southern Assembly,” Cassandra concluded. “Which is why, despite our relative weakness in the Assembly of today, House Varita still remains.”
Some underhanded tricks probably helped too, eh? Gaius mused to himself, but he had the common sense not to say these words out loud. Of course, the odds of a political entity surviving without any dirty tricks over the span of millennia were just slightly lower than the odds of Gaius himself becoming a great god in a month or so.
And becoming the ruler of Orb, while he was at it.
A couple of questions were raised, some of them more nonsensical than the others, but Cassandra answered them all the same.
One of the people present raised his hand, and asked, “What does Varita mean? Like, shouldn’t your House be named after your progenitor, like House Aquitaine or d'Artagnan?”
“Well, that’s a rarely asked question, but fortunately, I am well-read enough to provide an answer.” Cassandra cleared her throat, clearly pleased with herself, and said, “According to our records, Progenitor Blackstone said that Varita was the term used to refer to his Blasting Rod artefact in the local dialect of his homeland, Spanish.”
Gaius couldn’t help but breath in sharply. This sentence could have been a literal code for anyone from Earth.
“Incidentally,” Cassandra continued, “legend has it that the progenitor wanted to call it House Fuego, but he eventually gave up on that idea, citing that enough buildings burned up around him, and he didn’t want to start burning the concept of a House too.”
Her small joke elicited some laughter from the others, especially the guards, and the nervous atmosphere receded. After a few more choice words, she led the way into the mansion, where the opulent double doors at the entrance awaited everyone.
Another group of men and women were sitting on particularly intricate chairs at the foyer. Each of them wore clothes that were either in two colours, or bore emblems of their own Houses in a prominent position. A veritable crowd was standing to the sides of the small group, and Gaius immediately recognised them as people who had been present to witness the mysterious killer vanishing.
The trial was about to start.