In the subdued glow of a dimly lit room, where candles were sparingly placed casting long, flickering shadows, an individual sat while being engrossed in documents strewn across his desk. As though he had foreseen the interruption, the man closed the book he was browsing and gently pushed it aside. Just as he did so, a rhythmic knock echoed from the door, a distinct sound that pierced the quietude separating his private chamber from the outside.
Knock, Knock
The deliberate rhythmic sound of the knocking suggested a visitor who was familiar yet respectful of its occupant. The man at the desk, seemingly anticipating this moment, remained calm and collected, his focus shifting seamlessly from the parchment before him to the door. With an air of authority, he called out, "Enter."
Upon receiving permission, two men entered the room. The first was clad in dark clothing from head to toe, almost as if he were deliberately trying to blend into the shadows, his presence meant to be unnoticed. In stark contrast, the second man, trailing just behind the first, had a much more conspicuous presence. He exuded an air of significance that made it impossible for him to fade into the background. Even if he had wished to, his demeanor and appearance were such that he naturally drew the attention of those around him, marking him as someone of note.
The man who followed was a towering figure, standing at an imposing height of seven feet. His stature was so immense that he had to lower his head to pass through the doorway. His physique was equally remarkable; even draped in a black robe, the fabric did little to conceal the sheer bulk of his muscular build. His arms alone were so robust that each could be compared to the torso of an average adult man.
Adorning his visage was a full beard and mustache, complemented by a buzz cut of brown hair. However, what truly set him apart and commanded attention wasn't just his extraordinary size, which in itself was a formidable presence. It was the prominent scar that ran across his head, down to his neck. This scar gave him a battle-hardened appearance, it drew the eyes of anyone who beheld him.
"I apologize for intruding at such late hours, Master Grandfeld." said the hooded man, his voice carrying a tone of deference as he kneeled down to pay respect to his leader. "Mister Gregory has arrived from his arduous journey."
"You damn old coot! You really outdid yourself this time, making me fetch such a thing! But I won't lie – even though it cost me a good number of my good men, it was a hell of a thrill these past few days, HAHA!"
His laughter, loud and unapologetic, echoed through the room, a stark contrast to the more formal setting he was in. His demeanor was that of a man who was uninterested in the finer points of courtesy, instead favoring a more direct and raw approach to communication. His casual reference to the loss of his men, although seemingly insensitive, underscored the gritty and unglamorous reality of his line of work, hinting at a life accustomed to the brutalities of conflict and the weight of a leader.
Council Elder Granfeld, maintaining a composed demeanor in the face of General Gregory's boisterousness, interjected with a measured tone, "General Gregory, please quiet down. This isn't the moment or the place to be so loud." His words were a subtle reminder, aimed at keeping their meeting discreet and unnoticed.
Bam!
Suddenly, the door behind Gregory slammed shut with considerable force. It was not the result of someone physically closing it, as all individuals in the room remained stationary. Instead, an intimidating pressure seemed to emanate from Gregory himself. This invisible force was so potent that it physically pushed the door closed, causing the candle flames to flicker erratically in response to the wind pressure he exerted.
"Hey, old man. Since when have you become so brazen as to address me as a 'General'..." Gregory's voice dropped, a hint of menace creeping in as his killing intent palpably reached Elder Granfeld.
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Gregory:
https://i.imgur.com/myeHbUg.jpg [https://i.imgur.com/myeHbUg.jpg]
"Calm down, Gregory, Mercenary Commander of 'Minotaurus'," Grandfeld responded, his voice steady despite the tense atmosphere. "My old age has taken a toll on my memories, and I may have carelessly blurred out your past position. Please, forgive my oversight."
In this exchange, the tension between the two was evident, highlighting a complex relationship coexisted.
Gregory, momentarily containing his anger, shifted his focus back to the matter at hand. "…Forget it. I'm here with the item you wanted. Job's done on my end. Now make sure you hold up your part of the bargain. Don't make me regret this, Grandfeld. You know what's at stake if things go south. And I don't need to tell you what I'm capable of if they do." His words, delivered with a gruff directness, left no room for misunderstanding.
Elder Grandfeld, aware of the implications, likely understood the seriousness of Gregory's warning. With a calm assurance that bespoke his experience in handling such delicate negotiations. "The terms we agreed upon will be honored. Now, please, the stone."
The previously silent hooded figure, who had been standing by unobtrusively, now moved into action. With a measured and respectful gait, he advanced towards Gregory, extending his hand with a gesture of formal curtesy.
Gregory, recognizing his part, reached into his attire and carefully withdrew a small stone, its size deceptive of its apparent value. With a deliberate motion, he placed the stone in the waiting hand of the hooded figure, who then carried it to his master's side.
Upon receiving the stone, Elder Grandfeld's typically stoic expression gave way to a wry smile, a rare display of satisfaction and anticipation. The stone itself was a mesmerizing sight. It radiated a lustrous violet hue, shimmering with a splendor that clearly distinguished it from any ordinary rock. Within its translucent depths, intricate patterns swirled - dark, mist-like formations that resembled a storm brewing within the stone's crystalline structure.
"Finally, I have it in my hands at last. The Valmilion Stone!" he exclaimed softly, his voice tinged with a awe.
Curiosity piqued, Gregory eyed the Valmilion Stone and then turned his attention to Elder Grandfeld. "So, what's the big deal with this stone? I tried digging up information on it, but came up empty. Even more puzzling is how you knew where to find it and what it's for." His tone was a mix of curiosity and suspicion, hinting at his interest in the stone's mysterious nature and Grandfeld's knowledge of it.
Elder Grandfeld, holding the stone, glanced at Gregory with a knowing look. His response was cryptic, intentionally vague, yet laced with intrigue. "Ah, Gregory, there are truths that must remain veiled for the time being. Regarding the Valmilion Stone, let's just say its true purpose will soon come to light, and its impact will be unprecedented, unlike anything witnessed since the Academy was established. The world is on the cusp of witnessing a monumental breakthrough from my research, the realization of a dream I've harbored for years. This stone will revolutionize our comprehension of what they so naively label as 'magic'!"
Understanding that further inquiries would yield no more information, Gregory decided to leave the matter be. His towering figure casting a long shadow in the dimly lit room made his way to the door, he paused and turned to Grandfeld one last time.
"Alright, Grandfeld, I'll leave things as is. But remember, you owe me for this. Don't forget your promise." he said in a tone that was both a reminder and a warning, ensuring that his contribution wouldn't go unrewarded or forgotten.
With that, General Gregory, the towering figure with a demeanor as formidable as his stature, exited the room, his heavy footsteps echoing through the halls. The door closed behind him with a resonant thud, leaving Elder Grandfeld alone with the enigmatic Valmilion Stone and his grand plans that were now one step closer to fruition.
***
Outside, under the capricious sky where the sun played a fleeting game of hide-and-seek with the clouds, sporadic droplets of rain fell, hardly any to be considered a proper downpour. A chariot made its way along the road, headed towards the grandeur of a vast kingdom. The kingdom's sprawling expanse was such that one could barely see where it ended.
"Young man, wake up! We've arrived!" called one of the coachmen, his voice breaking through the young man's slumber.
"H-huh?" The young man, roused from his sleep, was momentarily disoriented.
"We've made it to Calydora! We're about to enter the military camp. So shake off the sleep and get ready to disembark!" the coachman urged with sternness.
Stirring from his laid-back position, the young man poked his head out of the chariot, his eyes widening as he took in the approaching grand structures of the kingdom. "Calydora..." he murmured, awe-struck by the sight.
Ethan, couldn't help but be captivated by the beauty and majesty of the kingdom.