Chapter I And the Wheels Shall Turn

A young, brown-haired boy climbed the short marbled steps leading to two large white-paneled doors. He reached for the brass knocker and banged on it three times. Soon after, a butler wearing a single glass on his left eye opened one of the doors and asked the business of the young boy's visit.

"I present a letter for the nobleman, Baron Yorgil Zuiken, from the king of Prontera, King Hendry Leopold II." The young boy leaned his upper body forward, arms outstretched, palms opened towards the sky as if asking for alms with the sealed envelope placed on top.

The butler took the letter, thanked the messenger, and closed the door. He went directly to the mansion's library, envelope on hand. He knocked on the willow wood door, turning the brass knob as he did. His master was sitting on the large elder willow desk that was found in the very center of the vast three-floor library. He walked towards the desk, nodding to a tall brown-haired man with a thin wiry frame when he passed him sitting on one of the recliners.

"A message from the King, Baron," the butler humbly said, bowing his head.

The silver-haired man's grey eyes twinkled with gratitude. "Thank you, Ben. You may leave."

"From the King, Yorgil? In what context could he possibly send a message for you?" the brown-haired man, a fellow merchant banker of Yorgil, asked.

"More like an invitation, Derek," Yorgil replied when he broke the seal of the envelope and read the contents of the letter.

Baron Yorgil Zuiken,

In celebration of the newly appointed councilor King Hendry Leopold II has personally chosen, a ball will be held at the Great Hall of the Pronteran Castle. The celebration will be two days from now, the second of March, 367 years after the Sacred War.

Your presence will be of great importance not only to the king, but to the citizens of Prontera, as well.

King Leopold II

Signed this twenty-eighth of February, 367 years after the Sacred War.

"A new councilor when Alston Hild's assassination hasn't even reached the fortnight mark? Preposterous!" Derek reacted when he too read the invitation.

"The citizens of Prontera wouldn't be too happy to see their 'great' king make a mistake with him alone making the decisions. They can't blame the king. That, Derek, is one great use for councilors."

"Bleh. Politics."

"Oohhh… how about this Chrissie? This certainly looks sexy!" A raven-haired wizardess pressed a deep blue pristine dress to her body, swaying her petite frame left and right in front of three functionally aligned wall-to-floor mirrors. The matte-colored dress reached to her ankles and it had on a laced, cowl neckline with funneled long sleeves that floated on air whenever she swung it.

"It's absolutely feminine! Oohhh… I can't wait to see Yorgil's face when he sees me wearing this." The girl turned her starry-eyed face towards a young priestess who was looking at her critically with her hazel eyes. "So? What can you say?" She inquired as she struck a pose.

"Blue really suits you, Arethusa. You'll knock them all dead," the woman answered with sincerity.

"Oohhh! Chrissie you are the best of the best of guardians a girl could ever have!" Arethusa threw the dress aside and hugged her friend.

"But how can you be so sure that Baron Zuiken is going to participate in the ball?" Crystal asked with creased brows.

"Call it my love instinct," the wizardess said with a heart-felt sigh, balling her hands in front of her as if in prayer. She raised her cobalt blue eyes to the ceiling, a dreamy smile filling her expression.

"Oh, do grow up Arethusa! And stop calling me Chrissie. It's Crystal for crying out loud!" the priestess demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

"You're such a kill joy, Chrissie! If you must know, Yorgil is a man with a great reputation. Why, I even heard that the king sometimes asks for his opinion in business matters! It'll be a shame if he wouldn't join the festivity."

"You have a point there. His uncanny sense of understanding Midgard economy is good."

"What do you mean 'good'? He's phenomenal! Everything about him is phenomenal. Oh, gosh. Do you look at his eyes? Oh, those grey eyes – it could melt any woman with the way he looks at them. And his hair! It's so soft! Oh, and his lips! It's just dying to be kissed – by me of course…"

Crystal sighed. Here we go again. She rolled her eyes.

"… He's just so undeniably handsome! If only I could lock him in my–"

"In your room for the night so that you can hypnotize him with your irresistible charm so that he will be yours forever and ever. Amen."

Laughter filled the luxurious dressing room of the small boutique.

The southern city gate of Prontera slowly opened to admit a tall, solid man dressed in a knight's set of armor. The man took off his helm, exposing his thick red hair. He nodded in thanks to the two town guards that were in duty. He waded his way through the stream of pedestrians on the city's sidewalks. Just as he was about to cross a small street, a shout stopped him on his tracks.

"Sileo! Yoo-hoo!"

He turned to see a raven-haired girl run towards him. A taller girl was trying to catch up with her. The raven-haired girl stopped in front of him, gasping for air. She raised her head towards him. The girl was Arethusa.

"You're back!" She said when she was able to get her breath back. "So you're done with your ruminations, then?"

Sileo nodded.

The older girl finally arrived and stopped beside Arethusa, looking at her disapprovingly. "Arethusa, you should be careful, why, something could have happened to you!" She flicked a stray lavender hair that had escaped from her pink barrette away from her face.

"Now, don't you start acting like my mother, Chrissie. Anyway, how can I not run from the excitement of seeing Sir Sileo here? I did miss him terribly. I mean, he has been gone for three whole weeks…" Arethusa ranted with enthusiasm.

Crystal covertly stared at Sileo through her lashes. When she saw him give her an old-fashioned look that meant that he knew she was looking at him, she blushed. She pretended to look the other way.

"… and if he's finally here, that means he'll be joining the ball, too! Oh, goodie! I'll be with Yorgil while you'll be with Sileo –"

Crystal's head snapped back to where Arethusa was standing. "M-m-me!?" She turned red with embarrassment, her eyes growing bigger.

"–and we'll dance and dance and dance all night long! And then –"

"Oh, Arethusa! We're going to be late for the play. We need to go now," Crystal said desperately while she pulled Arethusa's arm.

Arethusa's brows knitted confusedly. "A play? We bought a ticket? When?"

"I don't remember! Goodbye, Sir Sileo. Say goodbye now, Arethusa."

"Er– g'bye?" Arethusa complied, scratching her head in wonderment as Crystal led her away from the amused knight.

Crystal heaved a sigh of relief at the end of the conversation that would have continued to be a humiliating one.

Ten people were seated around a round table of a small room somewhere in the underground world of Prontera. The room was lit by fire torches that lent an eerie glow to it. A woman with a single horn on her forehead and a mask that covered her face stood beside a hooded man.

"The cogwheels of fate have started to turn, my friends. And it completely moves in our favor," the hooded man first spoke, his smooth baritone voice filling the room.

"By killing one of us!? Are you out of your mind, Kismet?" A man wearing a dusty turban on his head said harshly.

"His position is vital to our plans. Unfortunately, he didn't quite qualify for the plans that I had in mind," he raised a hand to stop the barrage of objections that filled the room. "His would be the only blood that would be shed."

"Y-you assassinated the councilor, r-right? Is it not a f-futile k-killing if t-the king f-found a new councilor?" A small, wiry man wearing a thick set of glasses nervously asked. "A-and when shall we see the re-results?" He quickly amended, seeing the angry eyes of Kismet at his questions.

"Soon, my dear impatient friends. Soon."