Novels2Search
Shadows of Destiny
Chapter 1-4 - The Raven of Matharu Pass

Chapter 1-4 - The Raven of Matharu Pass

With a distinctive knock, Joren moved to the door. He held it open as three maids - prim and professional in their crisp uniforms - entered, navigating a trolley laden with an array of cookies and a fine tea set. They maneuvered the trolley just inside the room, then with swift, practiced movements, retrieved plates and delivered them to the tables placed conveniently before the seats. There, they poured the steaming tea with a steady hand, setting two cups in front of Elysia and Ravina. Once their task was completed, they retreated; two of them left the room, leaving behind the third - a mousy girl with brown hair who hovered near the door, ready to attend to any further needs.

With an inviting smile, Elysia encouraged, "Drink up." She picked up her own cup, savoring the aroma before taking a delicate sip. With her other hand, she helped herself to a couple of cookies, popping them into her mouth with unabashed enjoyment. Her casual demeanor broke through Ravina's awed silence. Taking the cue, Ravina lifted her own cup, using the warm liquid to moisten her dry mouth before voicing her confusion.

"Elysia... just who is the count?" Ravina asked, her eyes wide. To her, a count was often a minor character in the novels she read, rarely depicted with significant wealth or influence. Yet, the grandeur around her suggested the count was far from insignificant. Perhaps even a major character /

“He is… the count?” Elysia shrugged. She turned to her comrades in arms, “right?”

Fraven shook his head while Joren let loose a chuckle. The brown-haired maid shot a disapproving glare at the seemingly disrespectful battle mage, her expression a stark contrast to the relaxed and playful banter of the others.

Fraven cleared his throat, shifting into a more formal tone. “The House of Ravenshield,” he began, his voice carrying an undertone of respect, “is one of the last seven great houses that can trace their lineage back to the dawn of the Nevarus Kingdom." He paused for a breath, glancing pointedly at Elysia as he named their kingdom. The maid, now standing at the sidelines, folded her arms and nodded approvingly at his words, an expectant look on her face.

Taken aback by the sudden attention, Elysia glanced between Fraven and Joren. “Why are you both looking at me?” Her confusion provoked another chuckle from Joren, his laughter a pleasant interruption to the heavy history lesson.

With an exasperated sigh, Fraven continued. “Throughout their history, the Ravenshields have been charged with the defense of the volatile Matharu Pass. Their generations of vigilant guardianship succeeded in eliminating the threat of monsters from our lands and the regions beyond the Pass. This safe passage allowed them to pivot their focus onto commerce, establishing a prosperous trade hub with the territories beyond the Pass. As a result, Fort Ravyin evolved into the largest central hub of trade in our kingdom." He paused for effect before delivering his final point. "In essence, the Count of Ravenshield is the most powerful noble in the empire, second only to the king himself.” His statement hung in the air, solidifying the grandeur of the count and the Ravenshield lineage.

Ravina nodded her head at Fraven’s almost academic answer. It aligned with her earlier thoughts – Count Ravenshield was undoubtedly a key figure in the storyline of this novel, whichever it might be. Perhaps she might gain a clue into which novel she was in from him.

“And the dukes,” Joren added.

Fraven scoffed. “Our lord has more power than those high and mighty things.”

“I’ll have you know, Duke Traissa is the most powerful battle mage in the world!” Elysia chimed in, seemingly upset that someone thought too low of Duke Traissa - let alone her fellow mages.

Fraven crossed his arms with a dismissive scoff. "You may idolize Duke Traissa, Elysia, but don't let your fantasies of him cloud your judgment. Count Ravenshield has the true power—wealth and resources. Those high and mighty mages wouldn't last a day on the battlefield against a knight trained by Ravenshield's gold."

Elysia's eyes sparked with determination, bristling at his words. "Are you so sure, Fraven? The power of Duke Traissa is something your coin could never buy."

Fraven laughed, "Gold can hire the best tutors, and construct grand libraries. The finest weapons and armor money can buy? Those are what make knights victorious, even against your precious wizards."

Elysia shook her head, her voice steady as she countered, "And what happens, Fraven, when those grand libraries are reduced to ashes by a single fireball spell? When your 'finest' weapons and armor turn to rust at the hands of a skilled mage? You underestimate the power of the arcane."

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, it's taken without the author's consent. Report it.

"Or perhaps," Fraven smirked, a tone of condescension in his voice, "you're just taken with the Duke, blinded by an idea that your so-called womanly charm will win him over. It's easier to be dazzled by power when you're always swooning, isn't it?"

Elysia stiffened at his insult, but kept her voice steady, "Fraven, you let your ignorance show. Magic isn't something you just learn—it requires an innate talent, a force within one's soul that not everyone possesses. And wealth, Fraven, cannot purchase that."

Fraven just scoffed, “man she's got it bad,” he told Joren who shrugged.

“What can you do?” the other knight shook his head.

Elysia sat back down, clenching her hands and gritting her teeth.

“Well, I think magic is pretty awesome,” Ravina chimed in.

Her remark drew smiles from Elysia and the men, the light-hearted innocence of her comment piercing the tense atmosphere. Elysia, more at ease, returned her attention to her cup of tea, savoring the warm brew.

Their quiet reprieve was broken by a sharp, definitive knock on the door. It swung open to reveal the return of Marthus, his usually composed expression adorned with an awkward smile - a telltale sign of unexpected news.

“The lord is… taking some time to process this new information. If the young lady would accompany me, we have readied a temporary room for her. Do bear in mind it's temporary. Only...temporarily, yes,” Marthus stammered, his usual grace somewhat diminished in this strange situation.

Ravina answered promptly, “Sure,” trusting that whatever happened next, she could handle it. If things took a bad turn, she could always use Varis as a shield, metaphorically speaking. At worst, she’d get kicked out of the gate, perhaps with a few coins for her troubles.

Marthus let out a sigh of relief, “I appreciate your understanding,” he said, guiding her out of the room. Ravina nodded, even though she was far from understanding what was going on. Could he possibly be taking her to a dungeon? She immediately dismissed the ludicrous thought, especially when she saw Fraven and Joren, the loyal knights, as well as the small maid following them.

Leaving behind the opulent red room, they traversed the castle, passing from grandeur into modesty as Marthus led them down a lesser-known path. The luxurious carpets and intricate murals of the main halls gave way to the stark simplicity of bare, grey stone walls of a secluded corridor. This hidden path was subtly tucked away behind a grand tapestry, a perfect camouflage from the casual observer.

Finally, Marthus stopped before a simple wooden door at the end of a narrow hallway, one of many. Turning the brass handle, he swung it open to reveal a room in stark contrast to the luxurious chamber they had left behind. It was simple and unpretentious, but far from a dungeon. Elysia felt her tense muscles relax, relief washing over her.

The room was small, evidently designed for function over style. It was akin to the accommodations in a mid-tier inn; clean and comfortable, yet devoid of grandeur. The furniture was basic – a sturdy bed with a practical quilt, a wooden dresser, and a small mirror. Sunlight filtered in through a solitary window, casting a warm, inviting glow on the room. The scent of fresh linen wafted from the bed, adding a homely touch to the simplicity.

Marthus gestured her inside, his smile still in place, “It may not be as grand as the red room, but it’s warm and comfortable.”

“Welp, there goes my guess,” Fraven whispered to Joren. “I’m out 2 silver,” the other admitted.

The last words rang in Ravina’s ears, a hand moved to her chest. Nothing.

“Our young Seit will be at your service, my lady,” Marthus continued, signaling for the small maid to step forward. With a short bow, Seit reassured Ravina, “I would be delighted to assist you, my lady.”

Ravina, caught off guard, managed a stammered, “Oh, uh- thank you.”

Marthus nodded his approval, “Seit will familiarize you with everything when you need it. I must return to my duties, but don't hesitate to call on me if there's anything Seit can't help you with.”

“Thank you,” Ravina responded, watching as Marthus took his leave.

“So what now?” Ravina turned to Elysia.

Elysia mulled it over, then made a suggestion, “Why don't we explore the town a bit? Varis is tied up with the lord, so we’ve got some free time.”

"Yeah, that sounds like a good idea," Ravina agreed, mustering a smile. "I could use some fresh air and a change of scenery." She needed to explore this unfamiliar world, especially considering it was her first time in a city.

“Perfect!” Elysia exclaimed, turning to Seit. “Please inform the butler that we'll be heading out, and ask him to inform Sir Varis of our whereabouts. And could you also arrange a proper carriage for us?”

“R-right,” the young maid responded, clearly overwhelmed by the barrage of orders. She darted off to complete her tasks.

“Let's get ready,” Elysia said, glancing at Ravina’s dress. “You look fine, but I bet we can find something more fitting in your new wardrobe.” With that, she pulled Ravina inside the small room. “No boys allowed!” she declared before shutting the door behind them.

To their disappointment, the wardrobe held only a pair of casual dresses. “Looks like we need to do quite a bit of shopping… cheap ass count - the duke would have been delighted to shower his guests with his wealth.” she muttered as she examined the sparse collection of accessories.