“I’ll see you at the Golden Stag,” was all I said to Beltane before I was whisked away to Castle Etron.
Within minutes, I was standing inside of the gargantuan structure that rose high above the skyline of Etron. Much of the castle was constructed out of white marble, and the red colors of House Polaris decorated the hallways.
The banners of House Feldrast and House Polaris both featured red in their designs, but each one evoked a different feeling from the other. Whereas the colors of House Feldrast drew to mind the image of a blazing fire, the colors of House Polaris drew to the mind the image of blood that had been left to congeal for several hours.
The dark crimson colors that decorated Castle Etron made me think of the bloody battles that would shatter the continent if King Theophrastus died before my work was done. When I traveled from Mitrikova to Etronia in the game, I had to walk through the quiet scenes of carnage that were left over after those two great kingdoms met each other on the battlefield.
I remembered those scenes well. Though the stage was populated with a huge cast of characters, it had been completely abandoned by the living. A mountain valley, a rustic farm, an abandoned castle. All these scenes were littered with corpses for as far as the eye could see. These were scenes of such great tragedies that they had been “irradiated” with necromantic energy. The screams of the damned infected the ground beneath, giving rise to dark spirits and powerful undead, either of which could massacre an unprotected caravan with ease. Those battles would give rise to hard times where evil Mages and powerful mercenaries would reign supreme.
Blinking, I brought my mind back to the present. A set of massive mahogany double doors stood in front of me. On those doors was emblazoned the rose crest of House Polaris. The dark brown of the wood stood out from the white and red of the rest of the castle. Those must have been the doors to the throne room, I thought.
My hand automatically brushed against the Ring of Etron sitting silently in my pocket. The royal crest on the door looked like a modernized version of the crest on my ring. The rose on the door had a much larger flower compared to the ring’s rose, and its thorns were less obvious. The thorns were still there, however, as a reminder that House Polaris still had teeth.
“Someone will call you in when the King is ready to see you,” Dame Caroline said to me with a bow.
She began to turn away from me but stopped when I said, “Wait. Aren’t you going to take my weapons when I speak to the King?”
This book was originally published on Royal Road. Check it out there for the real experience.
As I spoke, I gestured to the enchanted knife and magic wand that were hanging from my belt. Those were exactly the weapons an assassin would bring if he wanted to commit regicide.
“No. The King has explicitly forbidden us from disarming his guests,” the woman knight said with a neutral expression. A slight twitch in her expression informed me that she hated this rule.
“I understand. Thank you for your help,” I said with a slight downward tilt of my head.
The female knight disappeared behind one of the smaller doors that lined the walls of that grand hallway, leaving me alone in front of the throne room. Extravagant decorations surrounded me in all directions. Portraits of ancient heroes lined the walls, golden chandeliers hung from the marble ceiling, and a massive hand-stitched rug sat beneath my boots. Despite the riches surrounding me in all directions, I was completely unsupervised. I could have doubled my wealth if I had taken a portrait and fled from the castle.
They were confident that I was not a security threat. The castle guard must have thought that I was too weak to do much damage before a nearby knight could neutralize me. I felt a twinge of anger as I realized that they were correct.
A strange vibrating sensation filled my body as I stood there. The sensation echoed through my mana cores as they resonated with something. I could sense that the cause of that sensation was something massive but distant.
What was that?
Resonance. It felt like summoning magic.
How far away?
Half a mile.
Do you know the direction?
No. Based on the size, we’re in danger.
Thale’s cooperative attitude unnerved me. In most circumstances, he would have responded with insults or purposeful silence. The only times I could remember him being cooperative without qualification was when my, and therefore his, life was in danger.
We have to depart quickly. We have to get out of the city.
Not right now. Do you see where we are!?
Damn the King! He’ll be dead soon, anyway!
My thoughts were interrupted when I heard a door opening. A side door next to the massive doors leading to the throne opened slowly. Behind the door stood an elderly man dressed in a plain red tunic and beige trousers. He carried a heavy, ornate sword at his hip. His short hair was pure white, and his eyes were solid gold. Physically, the man seemed to be in his sixties, and I could not tell immediately if his white hair was natural or the result of his advanced years.
When I looked at the man’s facial features, they seemed familiar. I looked the man in the eyes for several seconds, unsure of his identity, before I remembered where I had seen his features before. His face was stamped on every Etronian gold coin.
“Greetings, your majesty,” I said, quickly falling to one knee. Several seconds had passed before I realized that the man standing in front of me was King Theophrastus. His attire made him look more like an elderly knight than the King of Etronia.
A smile appeared on the King’s face as he said, “There’s no need for formality here, Thale. Come on in. Let’s talk.”