II Old Acquaintances

Garyold was having another one of his days. Desk covered with stacks of papers and books, each individual pillar about three feet tall. With even more, taller stacks dotted around the entire floor. Not to mention the walls lined with shelves of books on chemistry, physics, and other types of scientific subjects. Before the old man was an open book, where the pages were empty of any words or numbers. Beside it laid an ink container with a feather pen nestled in the black fluid. Awaiting for the hand that would take control of it. If only the old man could will himself to work this day.

After rubbing his blue eyes, he let one hand slide to the top of his bald head while the other slid down under his chin. Scratching both sides as he hummed to himself, trying to let his mind fly off into his vast knowledge of science. Still there was nothing but a wall he kept running into, however his frustration didn't show despite the lack of motivation. Over the past few weeks he was trying to come up with a new medical adhesive that could potentially replace the medical potions that many people relied on, but the only problem he was having was finding the right combination of substances that would actually do what he wanted, and not the opposite. So far he had went through five different volunteers, and each of them had some type of negative reaction to the mix. The worse one causing limb numbness where the bandage was placed. The old man wanted to believe that it was bad luck and the volunteers had an allergic reaction, but the fact that it was five in a row made him doubt that. Only one good possibility came with one combination, but it was nothing more than a cream that helped made scars disappear.

-Clink-

A small tap on his window brought the old man out of the chemical world in his head, and back to a room that was littered with papers and books. With a sigh, he murmured to himself as he stood up from his desk and slowly walked over to the window. Gazing upon the street below, all he saw was a man with long silver hair in scraggly clothing carrying a backpack the size of himself. The old man drew a perplexed look on his face until the man in the street cleared the bangs from his face. Almost instantly the old man gasped and fled the room. He nearly fell down the stairs trying to get to the door. When he got to the door, he unlatched the locks, threw the door open, and was greeted by the man who he saw in the street. Garyold reached out, grabbing the mans shirt and yanked him inside. With a slam of the door, the old man put his back to it, and stared at the young man before him. There was an awkward silence between the two, but the old man broke it after a moment.

"Vance? You're risking quite a lot by showing up here!" said the old man in a harsh whisper, as if the walls themselves had ears. The young man merely shrugged Garyolds concerns away then replied in a normal tone. "It's been six years Gary, and the city guards didn't even show a hint of recognition when I walked through the main gate."

The old man let out a soft chuckle, patting his young friend on the shoulder as he calmed down. "Well, with a look of a city beggar I barely recognized you until you moved the hair away from your face." The young man blinked a few times as he ran a hand through his silver mane. He couldn't argue with Garyold though, since his appearance matched that of a street bum and it was the aiding factor in him getting back into the city.

Vance let his bag drop against the wall and then rotated his shoulders a bit, wincing as he finally let the muscles move about more than they had for the past few hours. The old man approached him, dropping an arm across the back of Vance's shoulders as he led him towards the dining room. "Bah I'm sure you'll work on your appearance once you leave. But before that you must tell me how you been these past six years! I'm sure you got plenty of stories to tell!"

~VL~

The young prince sat in the throne room to the left of his father. With one leg crossed over the other, his right elbow on the arm of his chair so his head could be propped up by his hand that let his chin rest on the palm. Long locks of hair that shined with a black luster fell past his shoulders, with only a little bit of those locks falling over his face, and he was clothed in the royal colors of Averos. A tunic with the left being blue, the right red, and the back being completely black. His pants wasn't of traditional style however, which were tights, but instead they were a type of black slacks with a gold trim on the sides. As the prince looked over to his father, whom was clothed in gold and silver robes, he studied the man's features. White hair that was cut close to the skin, going no further than the middle of his neck. His eyebrows also white and thin, with his eyes being a bright blue. The King was also fortunate enough to have very little wrinkles on his face, making him appear younger than his actual age which was close to sixty.

The King looked back to his son, and a soft smile grew on his features. "Look alive son. We have visitors from a distant nation known as Loc-Lac. Let's try to make our first impression a good one." The Prince scoffed as he sat up, stretching out with his arms before him. The King's smile turned to a frown, and his tone became more serious. "Terry. I know you don't like the royalty stuff, and I'm not a fan of it myself either. But we have many people who look up to us." The young Prince let out a sigh of defeat as he sat up right in his chair. Letting both feet sit on the ground, hands on the arm of his chair, and kept his features stern. With a nod to his father, the King smiled and gave an approving nod. However the Prince sat up even straighter as the doors to the throne room opened, their messenger walking in with three men following behind him. Each of the three dressed in traditional Loc-Lac ambassador attire. A skin-tight green tunic with a sand colored cloak draped over the shoulders with a red lining along the edges that stopped about mid belly. One of them was wearing a sand-colored kilt, and the other two with green tights on. All of them wore boots made of Jaggi hides.

The four stepped in front of the King and his son, with the messenger bowing in respect. "Your Majesty, I bring you the Ambassadors of Loc-Lac." The three bowed in respect, the one coming forward a few steps. "Greetings good King! I am Nathaniel."

The King nodded to the man, speaking in a friendly tone. "Well met Nathaniel! I am King Parves the Fourth. I hope that you didn't have too much trouble on your journey here."

"None sir. We are used to traveling a lot."

The King nodded again. "What brings you here good Ambassadors?" Nathaniel took in a deep breath, his form looking more relaxed.

"We believe there is a hunter that hails from here recently left our Kingdom. We were hoping to find him, and the Guild hasn't been able to help because he simply vanished."

Parves tilted his head, not exactly sure on what Nathaniel was speaking of. He looked over to his son for an answer, since the Prince normally kept tabs on all the hunters who came and left Averos, but he merely shrugged. Looking back to Nathaniel, the King cleared his throat before he spoke. "I don't believe we've had any hunters native from this region go to Loc-Lac." He glanced over at his son again, but the Prince merely shrugged like before. Nathaniel grew a confused expression over his tanned face, and turned back to regard his companions about the matter. Nothing but whispers coming from the three. A moment passed before Nathaniel turned back to the King, and asked the most shocking question Parves was ever asked.

"Does Vance Lacette sound familiar to you?"

Both the king and his son's eyes went wide, the name like a slap to the face. As they looked at each other they could see where this situation was going and hoped that there wasn't any consequences. Parves and Terry composed themselves, looking to the ambassadors. "Ah. Lacette? Yes. He hails from here, however there was an incident six years ago that got him exiled from our city."

"Oh. This is quite troubling then..." said Nathaniel with a disappointed tone.

Parves held his breath, and forced his next words out as calmly as he could. "He hasn't caused your kingdom any 'grief' has he?" He accentuated the word grief, but he breathed easier when Nathaniel shook his head quickly after the question was asked. Parves let out a inward sigh of relief.

"No sir. He has actually done us, and perhaps the rest of the world, a great deed. Him, and his skilled companions, have slain the Blackness. Alatreon."

The name of the beast sounded familiar, though many stories always became twisted and untrue once they reached kingdoms as far away as Averos. Parves looked to Terry, who was smiling brightly, and gave a nod. He gave Nathaniel a nod to continue as he regarded the ambassador again.

"He was to accept an award from the Kingdom of Loc-Lac, but shortly after he returned from his quest, he just vanished without a word. Our leader sent us here in hopes we could find him."

The King stroked his chin with a few fingers, letting the information sink in. The exilement wasn't too hard on Vance, and he was glad of that. Especially since the incident wasn't even his fault. But the city would not except anything but exilement of the young man. So he had to go. A wide smiled came across the Kings lips as he clapped his hands together and spoke in a cheery tone. "Well. I am sorry you've come all this way only to learn you were on a wild goose chase and I hope you do find him. Now, if you wish to stay we can prepare some rooms for you and your companions."

Nathaniel nodded eagerly, since his companions and himself were exhausted from the long trek across the desert to get here. "That would be really great sir. If you don't mind my prying. What happened that caused the exilement of Vance?"

"I'm sorry, but I cannot digress that information. Nor do I wish to discuss it." Parves kept his tone friendly, but Nathaniel could see a pain in the Kings eyes. The ambassador didn't press the subject however, and he bowed low to the King. Parves nodded to his messenger, and the man bowed down in respect and led the three ambassadors away to their rooms. Once the doors were closed, both Parves and Terry let out sighs of relief.

"Good to know he's found a bit of good luck!" the Prince stated with a look to his father. Parves nodded in agreement as he stroked his chin with two fingers. "I was sure he would make something of himself, I only worry that something has happened to him."

The two men sat in silence for a few moments, but they agreed that Vance was all right.