CHAPTER 6 - TRISTAN

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.”