Chapter 11
[Embercrown 16th (8/16), Year 1356 of the Arcane Calendar]
| 10:30 AM |
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[ Elbon , kings castle ]
"Your Highness," a voice , crisp and formal, breaking the room's quiet hum, "Queen Solara and The council has approved your summoning of the individuals to Malvo, as outlined in your letter. Each has sent a response of their own," a voice declared, its formality slicing through the room's quiet air.
In a sunlit room, a man in his early 30s sat in a high-backed chair behind a rich wooden table, its polished, intricately carved surface gleaming under the morning rays spilling through tall, arched windows. His ginger hair blazed like a torch, wild strands catching the light and casting a warm flicker across the table's serpentine and flame motifs.
He leaned forward, elbows resting on the smooth wood, fingers brushing a stack of parchment topped with an envelope sealed with Solmordis's wax volcanic crest.
His sharp green eyes glinted with a restless spark, a mischievous smirk curling his lips, hinting at secrets tied to the summoning that had ruffled the monarch and her council.
"Good. You can leave now."
Creak…
The door shut with a soft thud, and the man reached for the envelope, sliding the letter free. His eyes traced every word, a slow smile creeping across his face as he read.
Chuckle…"The queen never helps for free, does she?" he muttered, setting the letter down on the table. "I wonder what else our seer will reveal."
His gaze drifted to a mural on the wall, depicting a tree with a deep, dark trunk that lightened to white as it rose, its branches splitting into a vast variety of colors. No leaves clung to it—only a scattering of symbols, some small, some bold, hung in their place like cryptic fruit.
"My dear seer," he murmured, "what are you trying to show me?" Memories flickered—an older man, weathered and lost, yet always holding answers, some too heavy to speak. Take this as my final gift. This is something that will become a new truth to everything. Till that time comes, keep it. Those were his last words, echoing faintly in the man's mind.
"It seems whatever the truth is, the time to unveil it is almost near," he mused, his voice low, as if testing the weight of the words against the room's stillness.
The man sighed…
" The endless fog ", he murmured as a sly smirk crept back onto his face. He chuckled softly, "The fog, which has barred entry for years since its existence, finally welcomes its guests."
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[ Valco city, east district ]
"Liam, I'm sorry," I said, my voice trembling as I forced a pleading expression onto my face, searching for any flicker of reaction. But he didn't budge—his face stayed turned away, hidden behind the curtain of his long black hair as he stared out at the bustling streets below, his silence weighing heavier than the clatter of hooves on cobblestone.
Clank… clank…
"Right," I added quickly, scrambling to shift the mood, "think of it as us heading out to grab a gift for our sister. And by the way, she personally requested you to come along with me—it's the least we can do for her, yeah?"
For the first time since we'd started this damn journey, Kyzen's sibling—the half-elf, same age, same academy—finally reacted. He turned to face me, his ruby eyes blazing like twin embers, sharp ears poking out from that flowing black hair, framing a bright red, well-proportioned nose. Even for an elf, his beauty stood out, hitting those high standards with an almost unfair grace. Staring at him, I found myself captivated, my mind spinning wild thoughts—a painting of him eating a pomegranate under a tree's shade, his body draped in a single white cloth that modestly covered the parts no one needs to see, the scene divine. Maybe trees in fall, with their reddish-orange leaves swirling down, would frame him perfectly, adding a warm, earthy glow to the masterpiece forming in my head.
The painting was taking shape, stroke by stroke, until a sudden, horrendous disgusted face crashed into my imagination, mirroring the scowl he shot me as our eyes locked.
"Sister requested me? Oh, Kyzen, I'm so going to punch you," he growled, his already red eyes seeming to ignite with orange flames, burning with fury. I flinched and looked away, muttering under my breath, "Okay, maybe I might have given her a recommendation…"
His fist clenched tight, knuckles whitening, and I could feel his anger spiking higher. The more I opened my mouth, the more I realized I was just tossing fuel to the fire. So, I shut up, lowering my head, my lips pressing inward as I clamped my mouth tight, hoping to dodge the heat.
Sigh…
"At least one good thing came out of your annoying so-called recommendation," he said, his voice shifting from calm to a tone dripping with dread, sending a chill down my spine. I glanced up, confused by the sudden change, but then it hit me—his eyes had gone dead, lifeless. Memories flooded back to what Chloe had said to Liam after our lunch earlier.
During breakfast, I'd already begged Liam to join me, explaining what our sister wanted me to bring. But he just shrugged, wishing me good luck with a tired grin, muttering he needed rest since he probably wouldn't get any that evening. Then, in a moment of brilliance—or desperation, I kindly suggested to Chloe that Liam could help me out. Chloe, catching understanding my plan, we both teamed up—well, I mean, we asked Liam to lend a hand, though it might've sounded a bit like blackmail.
"Sister promised that we'd only spar once," Liam said, his voice flat as he stared out the window again, the glass reflecting his sharp profile against the blurred streets beyond. "Since time would be tight with me having to help you."
Now, looking at Liam's face, twisted with regret as he seemed to wrestle with why he'd even agreed to come to her birthday, I couldn't help but wonder if Liam was in for broken bones this time, the thought twisting my gut with a mix of guilt and dread.
Neigh…
"Looks like this is the place," I said casually, as I peered out. Getting down from the carriage, we stopped in front of a rich clothes shop, its windows gleaming with fine fabrics. I told the coachman to return in an hour, and with a curt nod, he reined the horses and rolled away, the cart shrinking into the distance.
Turning around, I spotted Liam already in front of the shop, his gaze locked on the clothes displayed on a doll behind the glass window. I walked towards him, following his line of sight, trying to figure out which dress had caught his eye. To my surprise, he was staring at a woman's frock—pink, no less. For a second, I wondered if he was thinking of cross-dressing, my mind spinning with absurd images. Then it hit me.
"You should buy it," I said, grinning. "It's pink—her favorite color, isn't it?" His ears twitched, turning a faint red, and he stammered, "What do you mean? I was just looking around." Even as he spoke, his eyes darted back to the dress a couple of times, betraying him.
"Why do you have to make this so awkward?" I palmed my face, groaning. "Just get it—trust me." He calmed down then, realizing there was no point hiding it from me—I already knew what this was about.
"Fine, let's go," he said, slipping back to his usual self as he reached for the door handle. But I grabbed his wrist, stopping him. "Not now—remember, we had something else to do."
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Clank...
Opening the door, a man who seemed to be a servant exclaimed, his voice pitched just loud enough to snag the ears of those inside, cutting through the quiet atmosphere like a soft ripple. "After you, my lord," he said, holding the door wide and stepping aside with a slight bow. Just as the onlookers' attention began to fade, a man entered, pausing at the threshold. He pulled out his wallet, plucked a few bills, and with a casual flick, tossed them toward his servant. "This is your tip—keep this up, and I'll toss more your way," he , then said, walking inside, his gaze drifting over the premium bottles lining the shelves. The presence carried an indifferent edge, brushing off the curious stares from customers and staff alike.
This behavior sparked intrigue among the onlookers, customers and staff alike murmuring, wondering who he might be. One thing was clear, though: whoever he was, his rich clothes screamed noble, the fine fabric and intricate stitching marking him as someone of high rank.
The servant dropped to the ground, scrambling to gather the scattered bills, his eyes moving to his master's sharp ear, which twitched slightly. A thought flickered through his mind—even though he complained before ,looks like he's enjoying this.
After a few seconds, a man approached Liam, who was still scanning the shop with a distant gaze. "Welcome to Grandé, sir. Can I help you?" he offered, his tone polite but tentative. Without a word, Liam turned to me, the surprise clear on his face as if he'd only just noticed I was there. "Ask him—he'll tell you. Don't disturb me," Liam said, his voice sharp and commanding. The man nodded nervously, "Of course, sir," his face tightening with tension as Liam stepped aside.
Turning to me, the man's demeanor shifted, his posture easing slightly. "What do you need?" he asked, the obvious change in attitude palpable. I pulled out the note, reading aloud, "Four bottles of high concentration, 50% ABV, from the 1355 vintage of Spirits Co.'s Eclipse Vodka."
The man nodded briskly and disappeared into the back, returning moments later with a polished wooden crate. Inside, four sleek bottles gleamed, their dark glass etched with the Eclipse Vodka emblem, the amber liquid catching the light as he set them on the counter. "Here you are, sir," he said, his hands steadying the crate as he placed it down with care.
"Yes, four of these, please. I'll let my master know," I replied, then turned to find Liam. As I approached, I spotted two ladies nearby, one young and strikingly pretty, the other older but still fair. I couldn't help but smirk—seems ladies can't resist a handsome man. Drawing closer, I caught faint snippets of their conversation. The older woman prattled on, "My husband is an advisor of the Council of Luminaries; his annual income rivals many nobles." She kept going, while the younger one—her daughter, I guessed—wore an expression that screamed get me out of here! "So, as I was saying, my daughter Angelica is following her father's path, well-educated. If you're interested in a marriage, I wil—"
"Excuse me, madam," I cut in, stepping forward to interrupt her pitch. "Master, the bottles are ready—we can pay and leave." Grabbing Liam's arm, I steered us away, glancing back at the two ladies and shaking my head as I turned forward. Too bad Liam already has a crush, I thought with a wry grin.
We walked to the payment area, the bottles placed ready for us to take. "Sir, how should we pack them?" the man asked, gesturing to the boxes. "We can send them in individual boxes or two in a box." Liam said, "Pack them in one box," his tone firm. After a few seconds, I leaned in and advised, "Master, wouldn't it be better to wrap them for a gift purpose?"
Thinking for a moment, Liam nodded. "Good advice," he replied, then turned to the staff with a look that silently commanded them to do it, no words needed.
"Excuse me, sir," the man interjected before we could proceed, "before the payment, could you show your identification card for your age?" I thought inwardly, This was the most problematic part. Me and Liam were underage, and here, unlike Earth where we could sometimes slip by, this wasn't taken light especially in a premium 5-star status shop. But—
This was where Liam's elf nature came in handy. Even though he looked young, half-elves could retain their youth well into their 40s. Checking his wallet, Liam replied coolly, "I haven't brought my ID." The man stiffened, his voice faltering, "I'm sorry, sir, but I can't let you buy them without proper identification."
The atmosphere thickened with tension, Liam's voice rising with anger, "Are you insisting a proud noble is cheating the system?" The man couldn't meet Liam's gaze, sweat beading on his forehead as he muttered, "Sorry…" I smirked to myself, recalling Kyzen's experiences—sometimes Liam got too immersed in his noble act, even when he was playing it up.
"What is the problem, sir?" a sharp voice cut through, and Liam calmed himself, turning to the newcomer. A man with a tag reading "Branch Manager - Cale" approached, his posture firm. "I am the branch manager. How can I help you?"
"I seem to have forgotten my ID," Liam said smoothly. "I hope you'll overlook this blunder this time."
Cale's expression hardened. "I'm sorry, sir. With recent crimes—mainly kidnappings of children, the police have become quite strict. We wouldn't want to ruin our reputation." The reason he gave might be right but felt weak on explanation, the law in developed cities like these was solid.
I jumped in, realizing Liam needed assistance, "Please, sir, as you know, it's Lady Chloe Devereux's birthday, and Master was planning to give these as a gift today."
Liam seized the cue, grabbing my collar in mock anger, "Why should I, a noble from a proud family, explain my reasons to him?" I laughed inwardly as he let go and continued, "Give it, or I shall personally give Aldric my review of how well his city has treated me—and be sure to mention your name, Cale, to him personally."
Cale's confident demeanor crumbled as he weighed his job—losing it if Liam's threat held true, especially with the casual familiarity of calling a count by name and the unwavering authority in his tone. This elf, with his poised stance and sharp ears, was clearly not as young as he looked, his age hinted by the seasoned edge to his words and the subtle twitch of his ear—a half-elf trait of long-lived wisdom. As Liam started walking away, Cale's voice trembled, "Please, sir, I am truly sorry for not recognizing your greatness. We will even pay for the bottles and packing—we are truly sorry," his face etched with worry.
"And that, sister, is what happened," I finished, watching Chloe's face turn unreadable, her hair falling forward to shield her expression as she stared down at the floor. Me and Liam exchanged a glance—we came to give her the bottles after coming back. Recalling the events, after getting the vodka, we swung by the clothes shop. Liam bought that pink dress he'd been eyeing, and since we had money left over from what she'd given us for the bottles, we grabbed some clothes for ourselves. The guards didn't suspect a thing, the wrapped bottles looking like a simple gift tucked under my arm.
A faint sound escaped her, and I braced myself, thinking she was angry about us using the funds meant for her drinking. But—
Pfttt… hahaha! "Oh, wait!" she burst out, hitting her thigh in front of us as laughter spilled free. Ha ha ha! She tried to rein it in, her face a battleground of suppressed giggles, then grabbed my collar, mimicking Liam's voice, "Why should I, a noble from a—ha ha—proud family, explain my reasons to him?" Pftttt! She slapped her thigh, doubling over. "Oh, I wish I was there, Liam acting like a noble! Hahaha!"
"So, you're not mad about us using your savings?" I asked curiously, a smile tugging at my lips.
"When did I say I wasn't mad?" she shot back, her eyes glinting with mischief.
Letting out a nervous laugh, I stammered, "I'll pay you back?" Meanwhile, Liam, in the distance, was inching toward the door, trying to slip out of the room.
"Where are you going?" Chloe's voice snapped, and Liam's body tensed at her words. "Now, finally, let's have a quick spar—this time Kyzen can join too."
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[Valco City]
Lying in bed, Angelica chuckled to herself, remembering what had transpired today.A servant snatching his master like that? I wondered, recalling that noble-looking, all twitchy despite his cool face. But when that servant dragged him off, he seemed downright pleased, not even minding the hand-grab—how weird! The servant peeked back, shaking his head like "Sorry, lady, he's taken," and I nearly blurted it out loud. I stifled a laugh—no way!—maybe, just maybe, that noble's got a sneaky crush on his servant! Honestly, I didn't care one bit that the servant whisked him away—but now this was more fun for my silly daydreams !. I guess I'll see them at Chloe's birthday.