CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN

INVITED GUESTS

Inside the castle, a fierce battle takes place. A battle of proper speech.

“It is da...” Noname slowly says.

“A!” Abacus corrects.

“A pleasure to meet... ya?” Noname says, unsure.

“You. Now please try again,” Abacus politely asks.

“It is... a pleasure... to meet... you,” Noname correctly says exerting great effort.

“Excellent,” Abacus adds as he happily claps.

Noname sighs as she shakes her head in vivid disapproval of this fiasco.

Days pass inside the castle walls with tutors of all shapes and sizes; all who, in Noname's opinion, have a stick up their behind. Does it matter how one talks? If two people can understand each other, what is the difference? Tedious! Noname doesn’t ask for a reason because it is proper, civilized, noble and so on the endless reasons go. She heard it all before on countless occasions. In her mind, she isn’t sure if one way is better than the other or does it matter at all, but one thing she knows. It is all so- tedious.

Someone knocks on the library door.

“Enter,” Master Abacus says reading a book.

Lord Belmon and a man in a black robe enter.

“How is the education proceeding,” Belmon asks stroking his mustache.

“I am proud to say...” Master Abacus speaks as he gets cut off.

“You!” Noname yells as she recognizes the man in the black robes. It is the Kushien. The reason she and her friends got captured. In a fit of rage she throws a nearby book at him. He evades it. Noname grunts.

“Good?” Master Abacus adds as he sighs.

“Princess Valima, we haven’t been properly introduced,” Rash-An says as he lightly bows.

“I need to introduce ya with mah dagger,” Noname viciously snarls in his direction.

“I see you two have been introduced,” Belmon adds as he awkwardly laughs trying to diffuse the situation.

“He set me up. Dirty Kushien!” Noname angrily yells as she looks away, avoiding direct eye contact yet still keeping a subtle eye on him.

Belmon looks at Rash-An with a raised eyebrow.

“I was the one that entrapped her majesty and her friends,” Rash-An says while in a slightly bowed pose.

“You’ve still been doing that? I thought I told you to stop with catching petty criminals and focus on the bigger picture,” Belmon says giving him a quick slap on the wrists.

“My apologies,” Rash-An says as he bows again.

“Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!” Noname blurts out as her right eye twitches, followed by the traditional flipping of the finger.

“I guess if you didn’t do that I wouldn’t be so lucky to find my lovely niece,” Belmon says as he looks at her with eyes of love; Noname picks her nose.

“Yes, my lord. Lucky indeed,” Rash-An adds.

“Wolf! Wolf! Wolf!” Noname blurts out as her right eye continues to twitch.

“We have to do something about these outbursts. I was planning on introducing her to the nobles,” Belmon says as he turns to Abacus.

“I believe we may require a bit more time.” Abacus says as he turns to Noname; she is still picking her nose, "Maybe a lot of time," he adds.

“There is no more time! Dark times are coming. A calamity is coming,” Belmon says with utmost seriousness.

“You cannot believe in that superstition?” Master Abacus adds.

“I assure you, Master Abacus, that a great calamity shall encompass this kingdom,” Rash-An adds as Abacus looks at both of them with disbelief.

Belmon approaches Noname; she isn't picking her nose for it is all nice and clean.

“Listen to me! You have to prepare as much as possible. There is a danger coming for not only you and me but for everyone in this city. Even your friends Little Barry and Harry Perry or whatever you called them,” Belmon says as he holds her tightly, intensely staring in her eyes.

Danger? For her friends? She does not know what the old man is talking about but she sure as hell isn't going to let anyone hurt her friends. They are her friends after all.

“What danger?” Noname asks.

“I will explain everything but for now Rash-An will be in charge of your protection and you must focus on your studies,” Belmon says as he turns and walks away in haste.

Protection? From a dirty Kushien? Noname turns as she ignores Rash-An.

He slowly walks towards her.

“What ya want?” Noname asks with contempt.

“Perhaps a little gift to smooth our relationship,” Rash-An says as he extends a small wooden box.

“I don’t wanna anything from you,” Noname yells as she turns away continuing to ignore him.

“I believe you will want this,” Rash-An says as he opens the box revealing her old lockpicking set and her dagger all polished and fixed.

Noname glances as her eyes open wide. She holds off for a while but only for a while. Noname grabs her faithful utilities.

Outside the city of Union, new guests arrive at the city gates; caravans of gold and silver accompanied by a small guard detachment of armed horsemen and infantry. The nervous guardsmen of Union watch.

“Prince Takon of Melbaria,” the young noble speaks as the guards dare not make eye contact.

“Duke Embro of Grombol,” a dark-skinned full-figured noble proclaims as the guards dare not stand in his way.

“Lord Mayro of Penetelia,” the old noble says as the guards quickly make way.

“Dutchess Emna of Dianta,” the dignified noble with a stone-cold expression declares as the guard’s quiver away.

“Lord Obul of Maxil,” the stuck-up noble says, avoiding eye contact with the lesser folk.

Lord! Duke! Dutches! Prince! The high titles come pouring one by one as the confused guards watch as these untouchable figures make their way past the lines of the people waiting for entry; they can only watch from the sides. Offending a person of such high status would require nothing less than death for penance.

Inside Belmon’s quarter, a servant enters.

“My lord, our guests have arrived,” the servant announces.

“How many?” Belmon asks while signing documents.

“Five of the more important ones, my lord,” the servant answers and bows.

This tale has been unlawfully lifted from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.

“Only five? How far we have fallen. It will have to do. Are the preparations done?” Belmon asks.

“Yes. Everything is proceeding as planned,” the servant adds.

Belmon shakes his head as he sighs.

“This better succeed. Our treasury has taken a large hit. Work with what you have. Isn’t that right?” Belmon says as he gets up and looks through the window at his city.

“Indeed, my lord,” the servant adds.

He watches the city of Union from up high as his gaze goes over one structure at a time; sadness envelopes him. The once-proud city is reduced to a dying mess. Before one could not find a rundown building and now the exact opposite. Fallen from grace and waiting to wither.

“I shall not let it come to pass. Not while my body draws breath. Let us meet our invited guests,” Belmon says as he takes one final deep breath for preparation and exits his quarters.

The guests make their way into a grand hall as a servant announces their arrival with a loud yell. Upon their bodies, they wear over-the-top garments that would put a peacock to shame. Long tables with a plethora of only the finest cuisine on silver platters; the food appears more like a work of art than actual food. There is no shortage of entertainment as exotic dancers dance in the background to the music of Zhengu’s. Exotic string instruments from the far east. The music notes slowly echo as they add to the atmosphere of grandeur. Servants run around as they pour wine, bring food, and even cut it. The spectacle of extravagance rages as the nobles try to up one another with tales of great exploits and a showcase of riches.

“So, Lord Belmon, this is quite a feast you have organized here,” Prince Takon says as he raises his glass.

At the largest and most grandeur of tables sit the biggest and most important names currently in Union; to the right of Belmon are two empty seats.

“Indeed. I have to admit I was surprised by your invitation,” Duke Embro says as he chomps on his well-seasoned chicken.

“A surprise,” Dutchess Emna adds as she lightly smiles.

“An unexpected surprise considering...” Lord Obul says as he stops mid-sentence with a small awkward pause.

“There is no reason to beat around the bush, we are all friends here. It is no secret that Union has hit hard times. You know this, I know this, and even the common folk know this. The city was a crown jewel in the past, but now it is a shadow of its former self,” Belmon adds as he eyes the people sitting at the table.

“I, for one, have always admired Union. How it stood proudly for so many years and its rich history. Always thought it was a shame how the wheels have turned,” Prince Takon adds.

“It is as you say, Prince Takon. Union has experienced a dark time, but that time is passing. We have made great strides in our return to power,” Belmon adds. The nobles look at Lord Belmon with skepticism.

“Have you? I have kept my eyes on this and so far the reports I possess tell a different story,” Dutchess Emna adds as she leans back.

“The world is vast. One cannot see everything that goes around; especially in the hidden,” Belmon adds as he returns the fake smile and a toast to the Dutchess.

“I am curious. Did you call us here so we can partake in this feast, or did you have any other motive in mind?” Lord Mayro asks as he leans forward with interest.

“A good question,” Prince Takon adds.

“I believe that Belmon wishes for our support,” Dutchess Emna says playfully spinning a wine glass.

“We had these conversations in the past. The situation is not that great in the kingdom of Ferro as such...” Lord Obul says as he gets cut off.

“I am all too well aware of the situation. I have not called you here for money. This is but a simple gesture to christen the new age of Union and to introduce you to someone new,” Lord Belmon says as he broadly smiles.

“To someone new?” Prince Takon asks as it piques his interest.

“Who is it, praytell?” Lord Obul asks as the other nobles nod their heads with curiosity.

“You shall find out soon,” Lord Belmon says as he laughs. The nobles look at Lord Belmon with intrigue.

In front of Union's gates. Tyr and Shaphas wait in the crowd.

“I’ve never been here,” Tyr says as he looks at the tall gate leading into the city.

“I was born here. It is here where I learned about Aion as a priest took me off the streets,” Shaphas says as he looks with a mixture of nostalgia and disgust.

“Great! There are more Aion followers here. At least I now understand why you wanted to come back here,” Tyr says as he shakes his head.

“Don’t worry, the priest and the rest of the order of Aion are no more. The church burned down in an accident long ago,” Shaphas says as he smiles.

“How could a whole church burn down in an accident?” Tyr asks as he looks skeptically.

“Accidents happen when you work with fire and when you stray away from the way of Aion,” Shaphas says.

“Stray away?” Tyr adds as he looks at Shaphas.

“Come now. There are many interesting here,” Shaphas says as he laughs.

Tyr shakes his head as they head forward.

“I have to admit I didn’t expect us to still be traveling together. A most welcome surprise. I believe it is the will of Aion,” Shaphas says as he continues walking.

Why are they still traveling together, Tyr thinks?

A simple sentence comes to mind; if the bond is strong, the unit is stronger. He shrugs in self-disgust as he continues to walk until two passengers pass them; a white-haired woman with a faint smile and a man with three scars on his face in a brown coat with a longsword and a wooden crossbow with the word Evrose engraved. Tyr looks at them.

“What is it? I see that woman caught your attention,” Shaphas says as he smiles.

“They smell of blood,” Tyr adds as he watches them walk away.

“Occupation? Reason for coming?” the guard asks as he eyes Melione and Ulric.

“My name is Ulric and...” Ulric says as he gets cut off.

“I don’t care about your name. What is your occupation and reason for coming here,” the fed-up-with-everything guard asks.

“I am a hunter and she is...” Ulric says as he hesitates for a moment; Melione comes to the guard.

“Hello! My name is Melione,” Melione says as she approaches the guard with a smile.

“I thought I’ve said...” the guard speaks as he raises his head and looks at Melione standing there in front of him. A small wind blows, making her dress and her hair flutter in the air like a lily in the wind; his face turns slightly red as the sunlight brightens her smiling face.

“Nice to meet you,” the guard awkwardly blurts out.

“Hello,” Melione repeats.

“You may pass,” the guard says as he rubs the back of his head while grinning like a child.

Melione passes as Ulric follows her. This is their way.

“Name? I mean occupation and reason for coming,” the disoriented guard asks.

“A priest of Aion,” the man in the back says.

The feast continues in the large dining hall as suddenly a sound of a fork hitting a glass beckons everyone to silence. A toast is being proposed.

“Ladies and gentlemen. Noblemen and noblewomen. I thank you all for gracing us with your presence,” Belmon says as the guests cheer back with glasses held high.

“As you know, the city of Union has been struggling with some minor issues for a good number of years...” Lord Belmon speaks.

The Dutchess Emna leans to Duke Embro.

“Minor issues, he says,” she whispers to the Duke as they smile.

Belmon eyes them with an evil eye as the Dutchess and the Duke simply raise their glasses pretending nothing happened.

“... and this is no secret. I am glad to say that the situation is finally starting to look up. I have invited you all here to mark a new era for our city and to welcome you to a new chapter in its history. This, however, is not the only good news I have for you,” Belmon says as the nobles whisper around in curiosity.

“Lord Belmon, pray tell us what this surprise you are harboring is,” Prince Takon asks as he leans forward with curiosity.

“I am glad you asked Prince Takon. I have someone I would like to introduce to you all,” Belmon says as he nods at the musicians who start playing.

“The long-lost and rightful heir to the throne of Union, Princess Valima of Garniot,” the announcer yells as the doors open.

Accompanied by song, Noname enters wearing a grand white dress with various shiny jeweled ornaments accompanied by Master Abacus. The nobles sigh at the sight of a beautiful young red-headed girl with emerald eyes; Noname stands looking at the scene as if they forced her to eat a lemon. The guests gasp at the unexpected surprise. All the eyes in the dining hall turn to Princess Valima of Garniot also known as Noname. Her right eye twitches. She tries to conceal it with her hand; apparently, a lady should not twitch, or so they say.