7. A Last Minute Meal

After spending a solid hour in the golden bath beneath the raging waterfall, Solaire and Siegmeyer withdraw inside and change back into their armor. The two men exchange quiet words as they depart, both of them growing nervous now that the tournament would be underway shortly. There was nothing left for them to do but to standby in the colosseum and await their calling. But Solaire was feeling parched and restless so he tells Siegmeyer, "I'm going to hunt down something to fill my belly before it begins."

"I see." Siegmeyer nods, "I would join you but I treated myself this morning before crossing your path..."

"Then this is so long for now, my friend." Solaire says, extending his hand. Siegmeyer grips and shakes it firmly. "Until the tournament begins."

"May the best man win." says Siegmeyer warmly.

"Praise the Sun!" Solaire laughs.

And that was that. He wouldn't see the onion knight again until they were in the arena. Solaire would miss his company...

Striding alone now, Solaire wanders the streets of Oolacile, admiring the golden sorceries that made everything shine with radiance. Beatrice was right, he should've come here a long time ago. What a magnificent place. He just can't help himself, he'd stop and wonder at every little thing, from the way every grain and pebble in the dirt sparkled like diamonds, to the clouds up above which glowed as if they each held a miniature sun within them. A part of Solaire never wanted to leave, even though he knew he must return to Astora someday... Perhaps after the tournament is over I can spend some time here and enjoy myself first. Astora can wait for me.

Up ahead he finds hundreds of people all gathered around the Princess of Sunlight. Most of them are too stunned to say a word, preferring to stand there and gape at her, while others whispered under their breaths so as not to draw attention to themselves, or interrupt whatever the holy princess might say, for Gwynevere was silent as she cast her blessings upon them. Golden circles appeared around the sick who stood before her, filling them with a radiant light, healing whatever it was that ailed them, whether it be a skin disease, a broken bone, a bleeding wound—all was healed under the Princess' hand.

"How inspiring." scoffs a man behind Solaire. The Warrior of Sunlight turns his head and finds a man in black standing far away from the crowd, beneath the rafter of a nearby home, in the sliver of a shadow, for hardly a shadow could exist in this golden city, yet this man had found one. Immediately Solaire is struck by how odd this man's appearance was, for he wore clothing unlike any he'd ever seen. A black overcoat draped over a dress shirt and pants, both wrapped in leather straps traveling from his chest to his knees. He wore a top hat over what appeared to be a mask depicting a smiling, pale face. Pinned to his chest was a single red rose. The man in black chuckles and shakes his head, beside himself with amusement.

Solaire got an unsettling feeling in the pit of his stomach looking at this man. Something about him wasn't right. The man notices him staring and says, "What's the matter? You're missing quite a lovely sight by looking at me."

"Who are you to mock the Princess of Sunlight?" Solaire demands.

"Just another nobody you need not concern yourself with." the man chuckles quietly, "And I wasn't mocking her. I meant what I said, it is inspiring... in the sense that now I see how wrought with idiocy everyone becomes once a God is in their midst. Look at these people... so content with giving their lives over to these... Gods. On a whim the Princess could stamp them all out like insects."

"True, but then what sort of God would she be if she treated the people with such condescension?" Solaire argues, to which the masked stranger laughs a wicked laugh.

"She'd be just like every other God I've ever known."

"What Gods have you known?"

"Oh, they're not Gods you would have ever heard of, I guarantee you that." The stranger's tone shifts from sarcastic merriment to a darker, somber one. "They're the kind of Gods who don't inspire loyalty and love. No. Most hide away and pray they do not bring about the God's indifferent ire upon them."

"Where are you from? The only Gods I know of who treat their people like that are not Gods at all, just pretenders." Solaire says.

"Compared to the Gods I know, the same could be said for your Lord of Sunlight. I come from a land far from here, farther than you can even dream of... Best leave it at that."

Solaire decided then that he disliked this man entirely, for it took great arrogance to speak of Lord Gwyn is such a way. To even suggest the God was a false God was punishable by death. Surely this stranger knew this, why would he risk his life to Solaire, a stranger? What a fool.

"Tell me," says the stranger before Solaire can walk away, "Are you participating in the tourney as well?"

"Yes." says Solaire shortly, "I am."

"Then we are enemies, you and I. You may call me Marvelous Chester."

"Solaire of Astora."

"Well, Solaire. It has been a pleasure chatting, but we should be heading to the arena soon, no? Wouldn't want to make the Gods wait any longer. Hahahaha!"

"I will see you there, I'm sure. But first I must find a place to eat and drink. I won't be any good in there on an empty stomach."

"Fair enough." says Marvelous Chester, "There's an inn just down the road. Enjoy indulging yourself, it may be your last chance."

Solaire does just that, parting ways with the masked man without saying farewell. What Gods was he speaking of? Surely he must be lying, trying to rile up my emotions before the fighting begins, just like that bald man in the bath. There are no other Gods. This is Lordran, the land of the Gods, after-all. If there were any more of them they'd already be here, surely... He decides to forget what the man had told him, focusing on what he needed to do to prepare himself for combat.

The inn Chester had directed him to was a small one, yet it was a place of respite away from the clamorous town square. The golden sorceries were not so present inside this place. There was a counter with an old, bearded bartender washing dishes behind it and a few lone, wooden tables. A stair leading up to the inn's bedrooms spiraled upward in a corner of the room, and in the opposite corner was the lavatory. Solaire feels like eyes are watching him as he enters the dark, musty bar and removes his helm. Solaire takes a seat on a stool at the counter and addresses the bartender, "I would like a sample of your finest mead, good sir! And a helping of lamb, if you have it?"

The bartender stares at him, his expression empty, the bags under each of his bloodshot eyes twitching. Solaire tilts his head and asks if he heard him or if the man was deaf, but did not receive an answer. Did that Marvelous Chester trick me? Is this not an inn like it appears?

"Forgive him," says a smooth feminine voice from somewhere. "He's not the brightest. I'm the master of this establishment, not he. Thou can address me if thou art hungry, weary traveler."

Solaire looks around, confused, for he thought he was alone, and a quick scan of his environment confirms that he's alone, so where did that voice come from? The only other creature in this place was the lame bartender... until something small and covered in hair leaps out from behind the counter and lands in front of him, making Solaire gasp.

"What's the matter? Something caught thee tongue?" asks the cat, her feminine voice dripping with sarcasm.

"This is my first time speaking to a cat. My apologies, erm..." Solaire pauses, not sure how to address the animal.

"Thou may call me Alvina." says the cat, "I am a servant of the Royal Family, and this is mine establishment. Thou better show some respect, or I'll have thee hanged."

"No need for that, I-I am just taken aback, is all." Solaire stammers nervously, "I humbly apologize for my reaction. Please, forgive me."

"Oh hush, child. I was only playing with thee." Alvina narrows her yellow eyes and licks at her paw. "Whatever the case, if thou art hungry for lamb then thou be out of luck. The last of it was served to the Gods for their grand feast. All we have now is pork."

"Pork will do. You have my gratitude, Alvina."

The cat rears its furry head around at the dimwitted man behind the counter and hisses at him. This seems to spark something in his brain as the man blinks and slowly turns around, slowly making his way into the kitchen. "It may take the poor fool some time to prepare the meal. Can't find good help these days." sighs Alvina before suddenly pouncing off the counter and onto the floor. "Enjoy thine meal, sir. I have business to attend to elsewhere."

"Business?" Solaire repeats.

"I may own this this hovel but I am also a sworn guardian to Princess Dusk, and right now mine instincts are telling me to find her, so that's what I must do. If thou need anything further from me, thou will just have to hope that dim-witted cook of mine understands thee. Hahahaha!" and with that the cat scurries outside, leaving Solaire alone with his thoughts.

A talking a cat. Now I've seen it all. Solaire chuckles under his breath and sighs, resting his arms atop the counter as he waited. If this experience had taught him anything, it was that he can never truly know what awaited him with every step that he took. A talking cat was one thing, but what he'd face in the arena might surprise him even more, and he needed to mentally steel himself for all manner of creature, for this was a tournament for the Gods.

Anything could happen.