Chapter 4 — Enchanted

Mid morning is probably the time when most people ought to prepare for their daily agenda. However, for the one whose every hour is already arranged beforehand, it is where her limited chance to breathe lies. 

Stepping out of her office veranda to greet the gentle sun, the tranquil wind sways her emerald sheath skirt as she walk towards the stone railing. The sight of the capitol from her viewpoint is indeed pleasing to the eye, but for her, it is more than the cityscape that catches her favour. 

Even after a decade of being bestowed by the highest responsibility and power over the country, she cannot help but be impressed by the continuous improvement she observes every opportunity there is. 'Not bad for the inferior beings,' she thought. 

Also, from the perspective of someone who witnessed the tragedy this same country had faced a century ago, the survival of this civilization is undoubtedly worth being the pride of humanity. 

"Is it not too early for another appointment yet?"

Shortly before a minute of her self meditation, another presence approaching made her lose her moment of serenity. Although she immediately recognised the identity of her apprentice, the fact that no other person would dare interfere her leisure is another way to find out. 

"I do apologize for disturbing your peace. But, Teacher, a foreign messenger just arrived."

***

Making her way to the throne room as her apprentice follows, the sharp taps of stilletos resonate throughout the hall while the rest are at absolute silence. It was Conrad, the male head steward of the palace. By the look on the gray strands of his hair, one can already discern his age— though he's not that old to retire. Beside him is a foreign-looking mustached man, clutching a paper on his right hand, he is obviously the messenger Sherfy was talking about. 

The two man stood straight at the arrival of the lady before lowering their heads as their short wait came to fruition. 

"A pleasant morning, my lady."

The messenger spoke his greeting as well, "It is an honour to meet you, your Highness—"

"Just 'lady' would do," she interrupted.

"Uh- ehem. . In behalf of their late herald, I was commanded by His Royal Highness to deliver a message from the troops you have sent to our beloved kingdom," the messenger said, introducing his purpose and identity.

"Proceed."

"To Lady Serina, I am dishearten to announce the fall of our trusted herald and our great and loyal knight, Sir Thomas Hansen during an unexpected encounter with a horde of varmints lead by a chimera on the Brassland Canyon. The rest of the details regarding this calamitous matter, I would like to personally discuss with you. For now, we have successfully made it to the Marfiande palace and already had a proper talk with his royal Highness. 

"The mission is still progressing and fortunately, his royal Highness issued an order to send people to carry our comrades' remains back home in honour of their courage as soon as possible. At any rate, we are expecting to arrive back to Londevé after a month. We pray for your and our homeland's well-being, Sir Nicholas Laudermann." 

Upon hearing those words, Conrad's eyes and mouth widen in disbelief, almost losing his composure as his fist clenches the back of his clothes. Images of his now deceased acquaintances flashed in his eyes in an instant, him serving them after their long travels and fights, will never happen again. What's more painful is that, he'd never hear them say those words of thanks again.

The lady, on the other hand, had her eyes closed for a moment, followed by a deep inhale and exhale. 

"Teacher?" her apprentice called out.

Meeting the eyes of the messenger, she spoke, "I express my greatest gratitude, Mister. Anyway, tell His Highness our country holds his action in high regard. Also, I am planning to meet him soon as this nation's principal representative once everything settles."

She then turned to the old man, "Now Mr. Conrad, call two soldiers. Apprise our honorary colleagues' families that I behest the presence of one of their member here. I will meet them at three. Do escort the messenger as well. Sherfy, follow me," 

"Yes, Teacher."

 

With the swift exit of the lady and her apprentice, the foreign man was left astounded. Confusion is clearly written on his face, making him oblivious of Conrad's calling.

"J-Just like that?" he said. 

Conrad, who already has his back turned around to accomplish the lady's order, worriedly asked, "Does anything else bothers you, Sire?" 

 

"N-No. I was just — nothing."

***

The overloading list of tasks Tristan has to accomplish each given day includes a major dealing with filths. Having a tiny barn to manage, it is his and his brother's responsibility to handle the dirty works while the hardworking little sister spends the rest of the day enjoying her not - so - carefree childhood. 

Dropping the water-full wooden bucket in his hands, the younger brother spoke, "Time really flies faster than you'd want it to." 

Having heard of of this very random thought spoken by the boy, Tristan couldn't help but turn to see him. Still tightly holding on to a broomstick, he quietly followed his brother's long gaze. It appears he is watching over children playing outside the window, not too far from where they stand. 

"What now, old man. . ." said the all fed-up Tristan. 

"Thea's birthday is coming, remember? Uh, she'd be disappointed on you," Johann incessantly uttered. 

Getting irritated from his brother's continuous nattering, he quickly stretched his arms to make him face his palms, "Hold up — that's quick! I do okay? Anyway, now that you've mentioned it. . I think I could make it. . ." he said with a scratch on the head. 

"Oh? You're seriously considering it? That's stupid, you're really her brother after all—whoah — don't tell me you. . no, I'd seriously renounce our brotherhood," he delivered his assumption with a mockingly disgusted expression. 

"Won't you stop jumping into conclusions? You're not helping at all."

"Whatever," Johann replied, rolling his eyes in displeasure. 

"Such a brat. . anyway, I think it's no longer that unattainable now bro . ." 

Judging by the face his brother makes, he knew this time, there is no joke meant anymore.

"I'll have her fulfill that dream no matter what it would cost me."

"Tch. What a bother."

At the faint glimpse of a particular event from several years back, Tristan's eyes gleamed with determination and a bit of uneasiness. Ever since he contemplated about that day being somewhat at the same plane as what his sister convinced him with, he knew he'd already made up his mind. 

His sister is turning 12 this year, though her abiding sweetness and joyfulness never ceased, he fully understood that she is already at the age of learning about herself and the world around her more critically. She is growing, she is improving intellectually and most of all — she already have a dream to hold on to. 

As for him — who has grown to hold on to his siblings' hands as he guide them forward, his own aspirations have long since banished from his long list of priorities. That was all before a certain news came down his humble town a year ago, now, everything started to collide in his creative and hopeful mind. 

"As per the order of her respectable Queen Regent, the annual selection of the noble Paladins to be trained to fight for this country's and its neighbors' peace and security will be held next month. For this specific area, three slots will be opened to be filled by the deserving individuals — experienced, strong or weak, gifted or not, are given fair privilege to participate and prove themselves worthy of the title and responsibility."

Upon hearing those words, followed by a short period of self-pondering, he made it entirely possible for his schedule to handle a heavy night physical training. Such training involves practicing and polishing of his archery skill — having a prior knowledge of it he gained from his father. 

Drawing a long wooden arrow from his back, he calmly stretched his left arm and extended the other holding the grip of the curve, perfectly positioning himself in an archery stance. 

At the sight of his target — a wild plum hanging tightly on a mature tree, all there is left is to release his hold. 

Just a split second after doing so, his life flashed before his eyes as a long mouth, similar to that of a dear appeared to devour his target out of nowhere. And before he knew it, the high and loud sound of agonizing animal almost destroyed his ears. 

Still at the state of panic, he thoughtlessly ran after the wounded animal that was accidentally caught by his arrow. Could it be his sense of guilt or because he knew of the trouble that it could put him to? 

Adrenaline ran through his veins as he ran his life to chase after the injured deer. 

After a short while, he finally felt the exhaustion in his airless lungs, explicitly catching his breath twice a second. Worse, he just found himself wandering the dark words at utter loss. 

"Oh, yes. . this is. . nice."

Just when he hopelessly thought he's strayed too far from human civilization, countless tiny, golden lights passed dancing through his eyes. Enchanted by the sight, he did not hesitate to follow where those little creatures (or whatever they are) are destined to go. 

Water. 

Driven by his thirst, his hearing sense seem to have increased its sensitivity as he perceives the soothing and bubbling sound from behind a bushy and tree-crowded area to be a sign of water body nearby. And without any hint of hesitation, he automatically jogged towards his awaited oasis.

Following the grass-less path, Tristan made his way to where the light and water leads him. Little did he know, someone already occupied the place before him. 

"There, there. You're good to go now, have a safe journey, child." It was a voice of a lady, too magical that he was left with nothing to think of but to find its source at that very moment. 

And so he did. . .

With only the light of the glowing fireflies illuminating the pond, decorating the bushes and giving a touch of gold to the natural color of the flowers, the beauty of the scenery before him left him at loss for words. 

Just who. . are you?

Eyes still on the laying deer and the woman seated on the ground, he watched as she assisted the animal to stand on its feet.

Another thing that left him in awe is when the head of the deer touched the red-head woman's, probably expressing its appreciation for her aid. The deer then left, taking the path opposite to his. . . 'what a relief,' he said to himself as he clench his chest.

The chirping of the crickets and the whispering sound of the night breeze occupied his hearing, while his eyes are still on her standing figure. It was only a matter of seconds when the same person once again spoke. However, this time, her tone brought him no comfort but chills down his spine. 

"So, it's you. . ." she uttered, turning his way.