“He’s probably playing with some stray dog in a patch of mud somewhere,” huffed Anice, who crossed her arms and turned her head. “Fifteen years old and he’s still such a rascal.”
“Don’t you think it’s sweet?” said her friend, who fingered the fabric of her dress as she seemed to imagine the scene in her mind. “What other nobleman would dirty his clothes to wrestle with some pups?”
Anice didn’t answer, refusing to admit that this was one of the traits of his that she loved most.
“Hey, Anne,” said Lily, differentiated from her sisters only in that she was currently holding Jaden’s hand. “Where’s your father going? Isn’t he supposed to stay here to welcome the bishop and the other delegates?”
Anice and the others followed her gaze to where Caedmon, Alder, Stason and Mr. Albeck were in the midst of hurrying down the street with urgent steps. Judging by their movements, it seemed that something was wrong.
Who’s that with them, she wondered? Trailing behind her uncle was a man dressed in riding leathers, indicating that he had recently dismounted from a horse. Perhaps he was a member of the delegation that had arrived first to inform her father of some important matter? She expanded her magical awareness and tracked them northward, noticing that they were heading toward the cathedral. If it were Alistar, he’d be able to sense them all the way outside of town, but the length of South Street was Anice’s limit and she could only guess after their destination once they crossed into the central plaza.
Thinking of her cousin, Anice tried her best to ignore the empty, lonely feeling that had been bothering her as of late. Conjuring a small amount of water to drink amidst the heat generated by the surrounding bodies, she stood around and conversed with her friends as they awaited the procession’s arrival at the parade grounds. They weren’t the only ones that were growing impatient, for most of the county’s population had crammed into the city in order to catch a glimpse of the famous Bishop Maels, whose name was growing more common throughout the empire in light of his recent achievements. If she were to guess, there were probably around sixteen thousand people lining the streets from here to the cathedral, which was all the way across town.
What’s so special about some bishop? Even a commoner could show up to an appointment on time, but these holy men couldn’t? An inexplicable sense of unease suddenly arose within Anice’s heart, and she turned her gaze to the south as she kept an eye out for her cousin. Where are you, Alie? The unwelcome feeling was abrupt and unexplained.
After looking around for a few moments, she caught sight of someone approaching Mayhaven’s southern entrance, a vague silhouette of a man dressed in some sort of close-fitting, crimson clothing. She and her friends were very close to the fringes of town and could see the verdant countryside just beyond the distant gates.
“Look!” she called to the others. “Someone’s coming through the gate.”
“Is he a part of the delegation?” wondered Woods.
Corrie narrowed his shrewd, dark eyes. “I don’t think so. If he was one of them, he’d be wearing religious whites.”
Other people began to notice the oncoming person, but nobody seemed to care. Just a straggling citizen from the countryside, no doubt, late to reach the parade grounds for some reason or other. Some nearby celebrants began to comment on the man’s luck, for in his tardiness he had avoided waiting around in the hot sun for over two hours like everyone else.
This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it
“What’s wrong with him?” muttered Zech, who squinted his eyes and craned his neck to get a better look.
“He’s limping,” said Helen, whose brown eyes boasted the best sight in the group. A bit worried, she continued, “I think he’s hurt.” While she normally wasn’t one to dress up in a girly fashion, Helen looked very beautiful in the simple sundress that she was wearing, her short blonde hair about the same length as Alistar’s—the length of a hand—her clothes outlining her lean, athletic frame in a way that revealed a surprisingly feminine figure.
Someone broke away from the crowd and emerged out onto the street, drawing a large amount of hostile stares. Holy oval hanging from his pale, green neck, Mr. Herst began to walk toward the southern entrance of the city on unsteady feet, his eyes wide in disbelief and incredulity as his mouth twitched in a series of failed attempts at speaking. He paid The Dozen no mind as he stumbled past them, soon breaking out into a run that likely put a great deal of strain on his old, withered frame.
In passing, Anice caught a few words of shock that finally spilled forth from his thin, shaking lips.
“It can’t be… It can’t be!”
Elsewhere in the crowd, several other figures belatedly followed after him. What struck Anice as odd was that all of these people were Inverted, and all of them looked as if they were staring at the ghost of Lord Lucian himself. Reverence and shock defined their expressions, without a single exception.
“Why’s the old man crying?” muttered Jaden, who frowned at the confusing scene.
As the unknown man stumbled up the street, Helen suddenly blushed and covered her mouth with a hand. “He’s nude!”
Jaden immediately threw a hand over Lily’s eyes and turned her away from the oncoming person, who wasn’t far off from their group.
The moment she sensed the man’s aura, an inexplicable sense of fear appeared in Anice’s heart. What a tremendous amount of energy he must have, she thought nervously. Every person in the world gave off their own unique aura, though people that had come into their energies boasted ones that were far more noticeable than those of ordinary individuals.
Of all the people that she’d met in her lifetime, Alistar possessed the largest reserves of inner energies by far. If he was to exert his aura at full force, it would surely be very heavy, but despite this the way that she perceived it with her magical awareness was somewhat similar to the sensation of a warm breeze on a cold winter’s day. That was to say, a person’s temperament largely influenced the aura that they gave off, not in strength but in tone. This person’s aura was chaotic and indescribably suffocating.
Anice gulped, feet anchored to the ground. It felt as if thousands of rabid beasts were charging straight for her. Subconsciously hugging herself with shivering hands, she connected eyes with Lessa and saw the same fear in her friend’s eyes.
“What’s going on?” said a woman nearby.
“Why are the Inverted all rushing over to that person?”
“Are you’s blind? That there’s one of ‘em devils too.”
“But what do they care?”
The burley butcher that had spoken up shrugged his stocky shoulders. “S’pose they don’t want ‘im to embarrass ‘em any further. Look, it’s naked, innit? And in front of half the county, eh?”
“Hopefully the bishop gets here soon and does away with them once and for all,” spat another man, who was met with agreeance by those around him.
As people began to curse the Inverted as devils, a small amount of individuals noticed that something was wrong with the scene up ahead. The naked man seemed oblivious to the words of those around him, stumbling past those closest to the gate like a dehydrated man in a desert. Judging by his movements, he was suffering from heavy delirium.
It happened a short while after Mr. Herst embraced the man and began to converse with him in hushed tones. A bit of focus had momentarily returned to the newcommer’s eyes, quickly followed by two thick streams of tears as his gaze trailed over his surroundings with deepset confusion. After speaking with Mr. Herst before hundreds of irritated and mocking gazes, the elderly teacher began to shake as he visibly held in his sobs.
Did they know one another? Anice didn’t follow this train of thought for long, as the man froze in place a few moments later as if he’d just been caught in a frightful freezing spell. His expression went lax, the glint of awareness in his eyes slipping away like a wisp of smoke on a windy day.
Without warning, the man began to scream.
Is he okay? Anice wondered why nobody had helped him to cover up. Humiliated and in evident pain, she couldn’t help but feel pity toward the unknown Inverted for having fallen into such an embarrassing situation.