A sharp, irritated look was all Tristan could show as the people watched him ride down the mainroad along with a cavalry of knights, led by Sir Kael. They trotted their way through the gatehouse, entering the castle grounds.
“How can I not have the right to refuse?”
“Because he is the king.”
“You know how I despise nobility, much more for royalty,” Tristan said. “I was supposed to make it for my ride to Cold Hills. Why does he want to see me now?”
“I can only say that it is a confidential matter that must be discussed between the two of you … alone.”
Tristan rolled his eyes. He hated it when his agendas were being interrupted. He already had turmoil from his late appointment with the archive keeper earlier, and he had gotten worse when he discovered how impossible it would be for him to search for his father. “It better be important,” he said. “I can’t afford to make those kids wait for me for too long.”
“Kids?” Kael turned his head to Tristan as they made their way through the halls. “I thought you stopped your hobby when you took a visit here--“
“It’s not a hobby,” Tristan replied, raising his voice into a defensive tone. “It’s their need … I’m just the one guiding them for their own good.”
“I see.”
They found the staircases and began their climb. One thing Tristan would always notice when entering the castle was the huge difference it had compared to the one during Terrowin’s reign. The indoors of the castle had gotten much brighter and more alive, all visible from the lit lamps and candles from the golden chandeliers--the enormous curtains slid aside the windows, letting the light from outside kiss the white quartz floor--and the walls painted with lighter colors. The shift from the dark setting it had towards a new one had never changed Tristan’s view about the citadel. He still had no comfort staying here as he’s well aware of what kind of people lived here and in the Upper Ring.
Eventually, they reached the black doors and entered. Tristan found no one in the throne room, then his eyes went to the empty seat; elegantly made of blue crystal and dressed in white cotton and fur.
“Where is he?” Tristan asked, turning around to face Sir Kael.
The Divine Knight’s face showed puzzlement, his dark eyes blinking under his furrowed brows as he looked around. “I thought he’d just be here. I left His Grace with Sir Valor when I went out to get you. Where could they have gone?”
“Are you telling me you do not know where he is? The only person whom you’re supposed to protect the most?”
Sir Kael frowned, his eyes avoiding Tristan. “So you also … you’re like them? You only see me the same way the world does?”
Tristan raised an eyebrow as he dug his hands into his pockets. “What does that even mean?”
“It’s nothing,” Kael replied in a darker tone. “I told you. He said he’d stay here with Sir Valor until I return with you.”
Tristan closed his eyes and pushed air out of his nose. “This is a complete waste of my time.”
The black doors of the throne room opened, causing their heads to turn. The four High Councilors entered, their gray-cloaks and golden chains all uniformed, followed by the king whose face looked troubled, with three Grand Knights following behind.
“You are a careless, most useless guard of all,” one councilor said, pointing at Sir Kael.
“What happened?” Sir Kael asked immediately, then he shifted his attention to the king. “Your Grace, where have you been?”
“I cannot believe you are foolish enough to leave the king unattended--”
“Maester Tomen, I told you … it’s not Sir Kael’s fault. I ordered him to get Tristan …”
“And we’ve talked about this for countless times already, Your Highness. Why not order those other knights around here? Why would you have to ask your Divine Knight to leave you? Just so you can go and visit that damn fool in the dungeons?”
“What?!” Kael blurted out. “My King, you said you’d …”
“Enough of this,” the other councilor interrupted. “Sir Kael, you will come with us to the Council Chamber … now.”
Arth had his eyes locked on the floor as the four councilors left the throne room together with Sir Kael, leaving him alone with Tristan and the Grand Knights.
“Leave us for a moment,” Arth spoke in a low voice.
The Grand Knights bowed their heads, headed out, then closed the black doors.
“What just happened?” Tristan had to ask, hands in his pockets.
Instead of replying, Arth let out a huge sigh before heading towards his throne chair, walking past Tristan. A short silence filled the cold air of the room as the king rubbed his face with both hands.
“It’s nothing for you to be concerned about,” he said when he finally took his seat. “Let’s just discuss the matter I have for you.”
The king took his time to gather his thoughts, then he began stating his main concern. Tristan listened all throughout the time until Arth finally mentioned the request he wanted to ask.
“Of all people … why the hell would you choose me?” Tristan said.
“With your strength and talent, you can protect the core from anyone who’d try to steal it. Moreso, you are the only one we can trust.”
“Screw it. I’ve got more important things to do. Just choose someone else.”
Arth shook his head. “No one else can survive a long travel across the western seas but you--”
“Wait … western seas?” Tristan asked. “Where are these dragon isles located exactly?”
“In the country of Drava.”
Tristan shivered, his eyes wide and his mouth parted open. All the memories from his previous appointment with the keeper flashed back into his mind.
“Tristan? Is there a problem?”
Tristan opened his mouth to speak, but no words came out. About two hours ago, he had made the final decision that he’d never go and search for his father ever, as it was too impossible for him to achieve. But now, the world was giving him second thoughts.
“Why?” was all Tristan could say.
Arth gave a puzzled look. “What do you mean ‘why’? You’ve just asked me that.”
“Why are you doing this to me? Why the hell do you all want me to go there?”
“I … don’t think I understand what you mean, Tristan.”
Tristan closed his eyes and sighed. Accepting the quest would mean leaving those kids in the village of Cold Hills … those kids whom he’d been training so they could learn how to protect themselves and their families. He’d also been teaching the children how to hunt as young as they were, just to help themselves survive hunger and poverty. He’d long been doing it not because he wanted to … but so they wouldn’t think Tristan would always be there to protect them from those evil nobles. No one could ever protect anyone in this world. We could only protect our own selves. That’s a fact for Tristan.
“I can’t,” Tristan finally said. “I cannot leave my whole life here.”
Arth frowned. “Tristan … our country is in danger as our enemy approaches and might come sooner than we expected.”
“Isn’t that your job as the king?”
“It is,” Arth replied. “That’s why summoning the dragon is the best help that we can get for now. And I’m asking you to help us make that happen.”
Tristan shifted his glance towards the windows. “I’m afraid you’ve asked for the wrong person. I can’t help you.”
“Please reconsider, Tristan,” Arth said. “I will not use my power as the king to order you to do what I want … but this is what our country needs. I’m asking you as someone who’s deeply concerned for all people of my country, including your village. You have the strength and skills to protect the core--”
“Protect?” Tristan gave a blunt snort. “I couldn’t even protect my family from getting murdered, and now you’re asking me that? I have all the skills a swordsman is expected to have … but protecting is not one of them. I can no longer protect anyone or anything in this world after what happened before.”
Arth’s eyes dropped to the floor, shaking his head slowly.
“Now, if you’ll excuse me,” Tristan continued. “I still have a ride to catch up to, headed for Cold Hills.”
“You’re going back to your village now?”
“I only came here to visit Capital Library … nothing else. And I have people waiting for my return,” Tristan looked around him, “If there’s no more matters to discuss, then I should take my leave now.”
“Tristan, listen. I just want you to think about it at least, okay? We’ve got not much time left.”
Tristan turned around and walked. But then, he paused for a moment and glanced over his shoulder. “I’m afraid … I’ve already made up my mind.”
“What on Earthos has gotten into your head, Sir Denvorn?” Councilor Tomen spoke once all servants and guards left the five of them alone in the Council Chamber. “Have you not learned from the countless failures you had during Terrowin’s reign?”Kael had his eyes on the table, his one hand on his lap, thinking of how stupid he was. He never thought King Arth would send him away just to visit Lucas in the dungeons.“I assume you still remember the most important task you have as the Divine Knight. You are not to let the King slip out of your sight. No matter what he tells you, his safety and protection must always come on top. Do you understand?”“I understand,” Kael replied, his voice lowered.Councilor Vornell shook his head. “We cannot let this pass, I say. He left the King to speak with the most dangerous prisoner in the dungeons … alone. The Crown’s Council
Tristan was back at home after a long day of travel. The village of Cold Hills would always give him a sense of comfort … and he could not tell what part of it exactly … perhaps it’s just everything about the village. The northern wind sent a cold brush on Tristan’s face as he rode on an open carriage. They reached the eastern entrance of the village, passing through the watchtowers and guards, before they made their way down the road. The breeze carried the scent of winter cherry trees. Considering the place having the highest population among all the villages of Glacia, most people of Cold Hills had still been suffering from poverty, despite the higher funds and aids given by the new reigning king for the supply of the village. And the darker side of that, what you would see out in the sun was not what it seemed. The village might’ve had less violence and crimes, but at night, far worse things would happen … unimaginable things done secretly by those nobles … the r
The fireplace crackled and disrupted the silence in the small room. Arth sat on the huge chair, facing the hearth, his eyes dazing on the flames. He could never imagine what would’ve happened had they got caught by the archmages. Everyone would know about Janshai’s identity. All the people in Glacia would go mad and wild if they discovered their king had been keeping a demon in the castle for almost a year now. Trusts would be broken and suspicions would arise. As much as Arth could not want to break his people’s trust, he also couldn’t afford to let Janshai fall into danger from the archmages … much more now that he’s ill. He promised himself he would protect his friend no matter what. And now, he’d been faced with a hard time, not knowing what to do to address both needs. It was of pure luck that the archmages had yet to find them, despite taking Janshai out of the concealment barrier in his chamber. They could’ve traced them by now. But a day had come by since the
Tristan plunged through the crowds in Western Market, wincing at the booming yells and noise of the sellers and merchants. The space had only made him more irritated as if every person he’d encountered meant to bump him on the shoulder. But he had no other choice. It was the shortest path he could take towards the Northwest Harbor. And he was … well, not in a hurry … not at all, damn it. He only had to catch his ship, which would leave a few minutes from now. The disgusting smell of fish and crab and shrimp in the market was the worst. Tristan hated every type of seafood, and only the smell of it had already made him want to throw up. This was why he kept on having second thoughts about this quest. He’d have to spend most of his time traveling on the ship. The smell of the sea, along with his motion sickness, would already kill him even before he’d reach Drava. “Fresh salmon from Northern Bay!” “Queen Crabs you want, good Sir?” “Giant Tuna! Giant Tuna
Along the dark streets of the Lower Ring’s third district, Kael Denvorn strolled silently under the cold night, his face shadowed by the hood of his cloak. It became an empty street, mostly. Finding another dead body in the district had made an alarming panic and fear on the people, with rumors spreading about a demon lurking in the alleys of the capital. “The body has already been taken, Sir Denvorn,” a knight spoke, walking beside Kael. “I don’t see why you still want to check the alley.” Kael shook his head, chilly wind brushing against his face. “It’s not the body I want,” he said. “You said the mark’s still there.” “Aye, Sir Denvorn.” “This is the seventh case we’ve had received,” Kael said. “I want to see the mark myself.” “But …” the knight hesitated, then he continued, “I thought the councilors have given you all the details and clues … why would you bother going here?” “Not all …” Kael’s eyes dropped towards the dark cobblesto
That night, Arth dreamt of burning lands and red skies. He thought it was Crown Galacer fallen by the Legion’s invasion … but it was something else. There were no deaths … no humans … only demons … hundreds of thousands of them … Arth forgot what they’d been doing … he forgot what they looked like … he forgot what happened after that. He awoke in his king-sized bed, breathing fast with sweat trickling on his forehead. Then he held his chest; his white sleeping garment soaked and cold. What could’ve awoken him? And what the hell was that dream?One second he was looking around, the next his eyes caught the glass windows gleaming in red light. It came from the outside. Arth jumped out of his bed and walked towards the windows. “What on Earthos …” His mouth parted open just as he spotted multiple red portals pierced at the night skies, all around the Lower Ring. He muttered a curse as several flying beasts screeched and cried … huge birds having wings of an eagle and the
Tristan wanted to curse the world. Had he not been too taken away by that damn noble, he would’ve caught the cruise ship before it sailed off from the port. There’d been no longer cruise ships arriving on the harbor that day, as the next one would arrive in two days. So Tristan had no other choice but to ride the pettiest and stinky ship he had ever been. It was the only ship that would sail in that hour. And Tristan could not afford to wait any longer. The sun had risen from the eastern horizon—his first day away from land—and Tristan had missed a lot already, especially sleep. He couldn’t get his eyes closed as his wooden bed, flat and hard, kept on swaying from the moving ship. Several times his stomach had turned. Several times he threw up. Until now, even if he’s on the deck, he always carried a bucket with him, as he could throw up anytime. Tristan stood on the right side of the deck, his arms resting on the taffrail while he gazed on the endless ocean, gleaming under
Terror had loomed amidst the dark, snowy plains. Kael never wanted this. Letting the King travel with him outside the walls of the capital towards the north was perhaps the biggest mistake he had ever made in his entire life. But it was not as if he could force His Highness to stay, as King Arth would never agree to that. And now, Kael had regretted it. They galloped down the snowy road, the freezing wind blowing against their faces. Kael could already glimpse ahead the high walls of Stone Glacier Ruins rising from the dark horizon. It had been hours of riding and they never made any stop. Kael had never been worried and scared in his entire life. He’s the only one now who could protect His Highness, and it would be the end of Glacia if they’d lose King Arth … if he’d lose again another King, the last King of Glacia. Kael stared at the King riding ahead of him. The scent of rage and bloodlust from the young King had mixed with the wind that brushed on Kael’s face. “Your