(a/n: Here we are, a new chapter. Thank you for you patience and your reviews. Big thanks to Lucius Walker for all his help!)
Ch.11: A Little Party Never Killed Nobody
Morning arrived in Arwintar at last. The general feeling of anxious anticipation that was building the past few days had now transformed into excitement as the citizens of the capital began emerging from their homes. The Imperial banner hung from every lamppost lining every major avenue and thoroughfare in the capital, streamers and other decorative displays of Imperial pride were positioned in shop windows and other positions that were visible from the street.
"Come on, we have to hurry or we're going to be late!" Ureirika cried, tugging on her big sister's sleeve. Kuuderika assisted her twin by tugging on their sister's other sleeve. Despite their best efforts, Arche remained rooted to the spot she stood in.
"Slow down." Arche chuckled, resisting her siblings' frantic tugging. "We still have a lot of time. Don't worry."
"But if we don't hurry, we won't get a good spot!"
"Which is why Hekkeran has asked Roberdyck to save us a place."
This information seemed to satisfy the twins, as they stopped pulling.
Arche and her sisters were currently standing on the sidewalk outside the Broken Sword Inn, waiting for Hekkeran and Imina to emerge.
Although the Broken Sword was a reputable inn among Workers, it wasn't anywhere near as warm or welcoming as the establishments one would find lining the main streets. Which was why Arche instructed her sisters to stay close to her. Being a gathering place for Workers, this inn tends to attract all manner of characters. Fortunately, being the beginning of the Emperor's Birthday Celebrations, all the usual Worker haunts were empty in the morning. This was the week for Workers to kick back, drink and spend their hard earned coin on all manner of diversions.
Not long after, the door opened and Hekkeran and Imina emerged. The leader of Foresight grinned when he saw Ureirika and Kuuderika.
"Good morning!" he greeted them cheerfully. "How are my favorite ladies doing?"
The twins giggled and greeted both Workers with hugs.
With everyone gathered, the group set off toward the Lord Mayor's Palace. As the group turned onto a major street, Arche watched her sisters. Ureirika was riding Hekkeran's shoulders, gazing at all the colorful banners flapping in the breeze. Meanwhile, Kuuderika was walking hand in hand with Imina, chattering excitedly about her birthday party while the half-elf archer listened intently.
Arche smiled and was glad to have teammates like them. The young mage was having an enjoyable time at home. Even being around her parents seemed to be more tolerable. When the Emperor's Birthday Celebration week began, Arche was surprised and unsure what to do. For the last year or more the young mage has spent the week away from home, either on a job or on her way towards a job. But now that she was back home, and left to mind her younger siblings, Arche didn't know what to do. It's been a long time since she had any free time with her siblings. Fortunately, Hekkeran, Imina, and Roberdyck offered to help Arche with looking after Ureirika and Kuuderika. Despite having fought monsters, looking after two energetic young girls was a whole other challenge entirely. Fortunately, they had the color and excitement that came with the Emperor's birthday.
The closer they drew towards the Lord Mayor's Palace, the more crowded and active the street became. Lining the streets were stalls and booths that were recently set up. Vendors were hawking their wares, ranging from handmade crafts to fresh fruits and sweets. Although there were designated areas for merchants and traders to haggle, there were always a few smaller vendors who set up elsewhere in order to escape the shadow of their wealthier rivals.
After procuring some seed cakes from a nearby vendor, the group wended their way onward. The further they went, the more crowded the street became. Eventually, the group found themselves herded through tall, gilded wrought iron gates and into a spacious square. Despite still being fairly early in the morning, the square looked to be packed. Arche kept close to Imina as Hekkeran led them toward the edge of the square. Emerging from the press of bodies, Arche and Hekkeran spied Roberdyck, who was standing on the back of a wagon scanning the crowd.
"Glad that you finally showed," the cleric told his comrades, once they reached him. "Otherwise, I was going to charitably give your spot away to someone in need."
"Glad that you didn't," Hekkeran snorted.
"Whose wagon is this?" Imina asked, curiously.
"It belongs to a rather generous driver," Roberdyck replied, helping his friends and the twins into the back of the wagon. "We are truly blessed that he is allowing us to borrow his wagon at so cheap a price."
From the back of the empty wagon, Arche and the others got a good view of the square. Before them was a sea of chattering people, all gathered to see their emperor and hear him speak. In the center of the square was an ornate stone fountain, featuring the regal figure of Baharuth's founder and first monarch, King Jihvath the Bold. To their left stood the Lord Mayor's Palace. It was a grand, opulent structure with tall windows. Initially a gift to the favorite wife of a past emperor, the palace now served as the headquarters of the Lord Mayor and members of the capital's municipal government. Every year, on the first day of the week-long birthday celebration, the emperor would give a grand speech, initiating the celebrations. Sometimes, if he was feeling generous, the emperor would bestow a gift upon a lucky citizen. It was one of the few imperial traditions that not only has survived the Bloody Emperor's ascent, but was also enhanced.
Judging from the energy of the crowd and from the sun's position in the sky, Arche surmised that the Emperor should be making an appearance soon.
As the group waited, Roberdyck nudged Arche. She glanced at the cleric, who nodded toward the crowd. Following his gaze, the young mage spied a familiar man standing across the way, among the capital's citizens.
"Kane," Arche murmured.
"I don't see his brother," the cleric observed.
The young mage realized that Roberdyck was correct. Scanning the crowd, Arche couldn't locate Gareth. Frowning, she pondered where he might be. Instead of the bard, the deathly pale man was accompanied by a thin man with raven hair and dressed in a long brown coat and a white shirt. On his head were a pair of eyewear with a dozen or so lenses attached to it with tiny strands of brass. Arche studied the man and realized she's seen him before. But where? Judging from their interaction, she surmised that Kane and the stranger knew each other. It then dawned on her.
"He was there," Arche said aloud, nodding at the man. "Up in the Azerlisia Mountains. He was there when we took that job in Arven. He had those strange Sentinel golems. Damien, that was his name."
"So he was," Roberdyck said, remembering that adventure.
"What's he doing all the way out here? Doesn't he live in the mountains?"
The cleric shrugged. "Maybe he's here for the markets. Many of the Empire's most gifted craftsmen are in the capital to trade and discuss ideas."
Arche nodded slowly, though she wasn't sure if that was the reason. Although she had grown to trust Gareth and his brother in the time since their adventure in the Azerlisia Mountains, something about their little group didn't seem right to her. They knew each other, despite the bard and his brother never having been in those mountains. Or so they claim.
The young mage's eyes wandered and she spied a hooded figure lurking in the shadow of a statue on the far side of the square. Arche focused on this figure but couldn't see for certain who this figure was, though she could tell that they were observing Kane and Damien.
An enemy, perhaps? If so, should Arche try and warn the man in black? Or maybe he was already aware and was feigning ignorance in order to lure this unknown person into a false sense of security. Whatever the case, the young mage couldn't warn him even if she wanted to on account of two factors. The first being the sea of people separating them. The second is Emperor Jircniv, who is now emerging from the Lord Mayor's Palace.
The square erupted into cheers and applause. Ureirika and Kuuderika cheered and clapped while Imina silently glared at the monarch. Hekkeran placed an arm around the half-elf's shoulder, which made her seem to relax a little. Arche glanced up at the supreme monarch of Baharuth – the man who ruined her life.
Even at this distance, Arche could tell that he was young and handsome. Perhaps the youngest emperor in the history of the empire, Jircniv Rune Farlord El-Nix had risen to prominence very quickly and had done more to change the empire than any of his predecessors in the last hundred years. His blond hair seemed to glow like a halo in the morning light. A warm and disarming smile was fixed to his lips. Dressed in black, crimson and gold, he looked every part the emperor.
Appearing behind him was the expected entourage: the Lord Mayor himself, the court wizard Fluder Paradyne, various ministers, one of the emperor's scribes, and two of his Four Imperial Knights. There were some interesting new additions this year. Arche spied a man in flowing white robes with a sash around his waist and a tall hat. The sash was composed of four different colors: red, blue, brown and green.
"Who's that?" Ureirika asked, pointing at the man in white.
"That is the High Priest of the Temple of the Four," Roberdyck answered solemnly. "He is the leader of the Faith of the Four here in the Empire. Quite a rare honor to see him here beside the Emperor."
"Why?" Kuuderika asked.
"The Emperor and the High Priest…don't really get along well."
That was an understatement. While she didn't fully understand the shared history of the High Priest and the Emperor, Arche knew enough from Roberdyck that there was a lot of bad blood between those two. From what is known through rumors among the clerics and paladins of the temple, the Emperor has tried and failed to take more direct control over the Faith of the Four. Ever since the Nobles' Rebellion, the monarch couldn't stand having a potential rival. In the end, the two leaders remained on barely civil terms and rarely ever appeared in public together. The fact that the High Priest was here on the Emperor's birthday–
"By the gods!" Roberdyck whispered.
"What?" Imina asked.
"Now this is a surprise," Hekkeran whistled in amazement.
Arche looked and saw, appearing on the Emperor's left, a beautiful, young blonde woman with green eyes. The young woman wore the attire of a paladin, along with white and gold gauntlets and boots. On her brow was a thorny circlet with a beautiful blue rose positioned above her ear. Slung to her back was a massive black sword that gleamed in the sunlight.
"Whoa! Who is that?" Ureirika asked, awestruck.
"That, young ladies, is the Adamantite-class Adventurer Lakyus Alvein Dale Aindra," Roberdyck answered, his voice filled with awe. "She is the leader of Blue Rose and wielder of one of the four legendary Swords of Darkness."
Arche's eyes bulged as she gazed at the paladin. It was hard to believe that she was gazing upon a living legend. Adamantite-class Adventurers are rare and it was even rarer to meet one who walked with the legendary Rigrit Bers Caurau of the Thirteen Heroes. All this while being a few years Arche's senior. It truly was a surprise to have one such as her here.
The Emperor waved to his people, smiling broadly. He whispered something to Lakyus, who slowly raised a hand and waved to the people. The crowd cheered even louder. After a few moments, Emperor Jircniv raised both of his hands and the cheers died down. Once silence had fallen, the monarch began his speech.
…
"I think that well," Emperor Jircniv mused as he retreated into the Lord Mayor's Palace. Outside, the crowd roared with enthusiasm, and he had to resist the temptation to return just to take in their cheers.
"Well done, my emperor!" Jircniv's scribe, a young man named Dacrel, gushed. "They loved it! They loved you!"
The young emperor gestured to a nearby servant, who rushed over and handed him a goblet of wine. Gulping it down in one go, Emperor Jircniv handed the goblet back to the servant while another handed him a towel to dampen his face. It was quite amusing, really, that even after all this time, standing in front of a crowd still made him blush a little.
The Lord Mayor and the various ministers nodded in agreement, showering him with praise. Even Fluder gave him an approving nod.
"Yes, yes, well done," the High Priest grunted. "But can we now get to business."
Emperor Jircniv smiled, "Of course."
After dismissing the Lord Mayor and the ministers, Emperor Jircniv settled into a cozy couch. To his left, the High Priest sat in an ornate chair, while Lady Lakyus of Blue Rose settled into a similar chair to the monarch's right. The members of Blue Rose stood close to their boss, while Lenias and Baziwood of the Four Imperial Knights stood behind Jircniv. The High Priest's guard, however, stood off to one corner, silently watching the gathering.
The young emperor was suspicious of everyone but never did he feel more suspicious than the paladin lurking in the corner. The woman was beautiful in the same way a knife or sword was beautiful. She was slightly taller than Lenias and was as pale as death. Her blonde hair was a light sickly shade of blond and trimmed short, barely reaching her jaw. Compared to the ornate and colorful armor of his own guards and that of Blue Rose, the woman's armor was plain. Silver and shiny, it looked almost new. It matched her eyes.
Jircniv suppressed a shiver. The woman's eyes were like two pools of liquid silver. Beautiful but had a hint of danger lurking underneath.
"Alright then," Emperor Jircniv yawned, once everyone was in place. "Let us get to business. Firstly…" the monarch's eyes slid to Lakyus and her companions. "What brings Blue Rose to Arwintar? Obviously not to surprise me on my birthday nor to sight see. You said it was urgent."
Lakyus nodded and explained the reason for their sudden arrival in the capital.
Jircniv listened intently, keeping an even expression on his face.
A Vampire Lord? the emperor mused.
Vampire Lords were the stuff of legends. They were vanquished long ago by the Thirteen Heroes. Evileye herself was present. A part of him doubted the Adventurer's story. It seemed awfully convenient for a famous group of Adventurers to show up and demand an audience regarding a threat to his life. Was this a joke of some sort? If so, then it was a very poor one. No. This was something else. Judging from the expressions of Lakyus and her companions, Jircniv couldn't detect any lies. Of course, he wasn't all seeing but the monarch liked to think of himself as an impeccable judge of character.
"I see," Jircniv said slowly.
"You don't believe us, do you?" Evileye spoke.
"Would you if you were in my position? I've faced many threats and have considered many possible dangers to my life and my Empire. But a Vampire Lord is not one."
"Believe it or not, it's the truth," the masked Adventurer said bluntly, withdrawing an envelope from her cloak. She handed it to Dacrel, who in turn handed it to the Emperor. The Emperor saw that it was an invitation that he had sent out to various important people. Unfortunately, he couldn't tell who was the intended recipient for this particular invitation.
"This is indeed one of my invitations," Jircniv said, analyzing the envelope and its contents. "And where did you say you received this?"
"From one of Manfred's comrades, Ludwig," Evileye answered.
"Ah yes, Ludwig of the Maelstrom. I've heard stories of him in my youth. Very gruesome."
"And very real," Lakyus added firmly. "He rendered us powerless with only a song. If it weren't for Evileye, and the fact that we weren't his intended prey, we'd have surely been killed."
Jircniv nodded slowly. Everything they said made sense, but the cynic in him told him that there's something more at play. Why would two legendary Vampire Lords threaten him? It's not like he didn't believe in Vampires. One was standing in this very room. No, it's the existence of an immensely powerful creature that was said to have died hundreds of years ago. There has never been anything like them in over a century. The world has changed, moved on. Monsters like that no longer exist. Or, at the very least, shouldn't.
"And I take it that you came here for something of a similar nature?" the young monarch asked, his eyes flicked to the High Priest.
"More or less," the High Priest said with a nod.
Clearing his throat, the cleric spoke in a solemn tone. "Your highness, I believe that this vampire threat is legitimate. Not just to your royal person, but to your entire empire – to the entire world! I'm sure you've heard of what was happening in the east?"
Of course the Emperor was aware of what was happening in the east. Despite the distance between the capital and its eastern province, Jircniv always made it a point to be kept up to date on every noteworthy thing that happens within his empire. For the past few weeks he had heard of attacks, raids from the sea. At first it sounded like pirates, but very soon there wasn't any news at all. All communication with the region went dead. Which was why he issued a job for those above Mithril rank. He needed to know what he was up against and the usual methods were failing him. When those four Adventurer teams failed to return, it was clear that it was something worse than pirates.
"And how would you know of this?" Jircniv asked the High Priest.
"One of my colleagues, an Abbot in charge of a remote monastery in the east, was discovered by some of the templars I dispatched to the region. They brought him back, tired and bruised, but alive. He spoke of this Manfred person and his plans."
Jircniv's eyes narrowed slightly. In a region that has fallen deathly silent, a place where seasoned Adventurers never returned, how did a mere Abbot return relatively untouched?
They let him go, Jircniv surmised. Manfred, or whoever this foe is, wanted to instill fear and panic in their hearts and provoke a response.
The High Priest was not being truthful. It's much clearer on his face than it is on Lady Lakyus. The man wasn't a natural liar nor was he ambitious. He genuinely cared about the souls that he deems are under his care, which was what made Jircniv admire him.
No, this has something to do with one of the many secrets of the Faith of the Four Great Gods. Secrets like this were privy to a select few, like the supreme head of the Faith, the High Priestess of the Roble Holy Kingdom, Kelart Custodio.
Jircniv didn't trust Kelart. She was a clever woman who, for a cleric, seemed to be very well connected to the highest echelons of the Holy Kingdom's government. An ardent supporter, and closest friend, of the Holy Queen, Calca Bessarez, for starters. She was also the twin sister of Remedios Custodio, the Grandmaster of the Holy Kingdom's Paladin Order and one of the Nine Colors, the strongest warriors in their nation. This didn't even begin to touch on the influence she has via the Temples, from knights and highborns to the lowliest beggar and orphan. Thousands looked to her for guidance, even the Holy Queen. While the Holy Queen was a charming woman, Jircniv could tell that she was…lacking as a leader. As a person, she was honest, intelligent, dignified and kind. In another life, she would've been an excellent ruler.
But this life was not for the faint of heart. It required skill, discipline, ferocity, voracity, with morals coming in second, if not third. Perhaps the only reason why she wasn't ousted from her throne yet was the love of the people and the machinations of the Custodio siblings.
The Faith of the Four Great Gods was the primary faith of the Empire, and that faith was under the control of, essentially, a foreign power. Should Kelart Custodio feel so inclined, she could call upon the people of the Empire to rebel against Jircniv. Sure, not every citizen of the Empire might not rise up against him. But enough could potentially rise up, even those among his soldiers.
Hearing the High Priest's appeal for action made Jircniv feel inclined to do the opposite. The Custodio siblings might be luring him into a trap or trying to get him to do their dirty work. On the other hand, if even half of what the High Priest said was correct, then this is serious.
"What would you have me do?" the young monarch asked.
"You must act, Your Highness," the High Priest declared. "Perhaps sending some of your army? Maybe even your Four Imperial Knights?"
"As much as I like to, I can't. Even with the changes instituted in the military, it'll still take some time to marshal significant forces for such an undertaking. Additionally, I see a few flaws with this plan."
"Flaws?"
"Firstly, we'll likely be marching blindly into enemy territory. We don't know their movements or current positions. They'll most likely be waiting for us and will slaughter us. Secondly, should we mobilize and make with all haste to the east, we could very well be leaving Arwintar and the western regions exposed to enemy attack. Third, and most importantly, I fear that we don't have the strength to confront Manfred directly."
The High Priest looked at him in shock. "B-But we have Blue Rose and I'm certain that your Imperial Knights and a force of Adventurers could make a difference."
Jircniv shook his head. "If what Lady Evileye and Lady Lakyus say is true, then this Manfred is even more dangerous than the stories say."
"What do you suggest?" the paladin in the corner asked.
The High Priest jumped in surprise and everyone looked at her. This was the first time she spoke. Her voice was cold and devoid of emotion.
"Considering that he sent an invitation to Lady Evileye, I theorize that Manfred intends to move on Arwintar itself," Jircniv explained coolly. "Your Abbot was sent to us as a test – to see what we'll do. Should that fail to provoke a reaction, they'll proceed with their plans and strike Arwintar."
"I-If that's true, then shouldn't we seal the gates and call up every soldier and Worker we can?" the High Priest asked.
"We could, though I suspect that the enemy is already here within the city."
"Oh gods…"
"I suspect that they're waiting for something. Something important. Based on your history," Jircniv glanced at Evileye, "it seems likely that Manfred would want to break you, humiliate you, before he kills you."
Everyone gazed at the Emperor with a mixture of amazement and fear.
Jircniv shrugged. "Or the invitation is also a false lead and they could attack the city while we're sleeping in our beds. I'm not sure."
"Cheerful thought," Gagaran murmured.
"The best course of action, unfortunately, is to wait and see," the Emperor said, rising from his couch.
Everyone stood at attention.
"I'll inform my guards and the City Watch to be extra vigilant. I advise you to do the same. Keep an eye out for anything unusual or suspicious."
The members of Blue Rose nodded.
Jircniv smiled. "And try to enjoy yourselves. After all, it is my birthday."
Meanwhile, in another part of the kingdom, another man was going through a conundrum.
"What to play, what to play…"
Gareth was in a pickle. He was sequestered in his room at the Golden Lance Inn, trying and failing to select a song to play for the Emperor's party. It had to be good – no, great. It had to easily trump his other performances by a mile while keeping it more upbeat and memorable. Nothing overly exciting, but nothing slow and boring either. Unless they were slow dancing or something like that.
He shook his head. Not helping.
*KNOCK* *KNOCK*
Gareth's breath hitched as he felt his heart nearly jump out of his throat. Taking a quick deep breath, he told them to come in.
In walked Duke Fulton, the man who invited Gareth in the first place.
"Getting stage fright?"
Gareth let out a weak chuckle.
"You have no idea, good sir."
"Ah, I suppose even the best of bards freezes up from time to time. Then again, it is the emperor's party you are forming at, so the best is your only option."
"I suppose my issue is that I simply don't know what songs to pick."
The duke raised an eyebrow at this. "My good bard, surely there's not that many songs to play."
The famous bard just let out a sigh. "I don't know enough of the native songs here and to top it off, there's just too many songs from my…nation to pick from. Some good, some mediocre, and, well, you get the point."
"Hmm, I see what you mean…" the duke murmured, stroking his chin. "Well, perhaps something light. Lighten the mood and get the guests to relax."
Gareth nodded and made a mental note.
"Just nothing vulgar or anything. The Emperor does enjoy a jaunty tune, but he abhors the type of music enjoyed by the…unrefined."
"Well that makes it a little easier."
"Then again, he doesn't mind if others enjoy such things."
The bard groaned, causing the Duke to grin sheepishly.
"Sorry."
*KNOCK* *KNOCK*
The door opened before Gareth could speak and in stepped Kane and Damien. The vampire assassin strolled in with his hands in his pockets while Damien was eating a boiled creme treat. The Artificer had crumbs on his cheeks and cream and glaze on his fingers.
Gareth sighed. Despite making it clear that he needed some alone time to come up with a set for Jircniv's birthday, the bard wasn't surprised that his brother and his friend would barge right in.
"Any progress?" Kane asked, plopping down on a nearby couch.
"Nope" Gareth sighed.
"Hmm. Too bad. Cake Break!"
"You got to try these!" Damien muffled through a mouthful of pastry, rummaging around in his satchel. The Artificer pulled out a similar boiled creme treat and handed it to Gareth.
The glazed pastry was still warm and gave off a soft vanilla scent that made Gareth's mouth water.
"I don't know," the bard murmured.
"Come on!" Kane said, "It's been four hours already and you've made no headway! Might as well take a quick snack break. A bit of sugar to get the blood going, get some ideas circulating."
Gareth eyed the pastry. It has been a long morning and he has been wracking his brain for ideas ever since he received the invitation. He still had a few days until the big party.
"I suppose a little snack break won't hurt…" Gareth said, accepting the pastry.
"My thoughts exactly," Duke Fulton said. "Whenever I hit a barrier, I find that a good cup of Sunfire can really clear the mind."
"Oohhh," Kane said, mischievously.
"It's not that kind of tea."
"Oh."
"I don't believe we've met," the duke said, looking at Damien. He extended a hand. "Duke Donatus Tiran Fulton."
Damien eyed the nobleman's hand for a moment before wiped glaze and cream off his own hand and shook it.
"I'm Damien," the Artificer greeted with a smile. "And I must say, I haven't met a genuine nobleman before. Should I bow or kneel?"
"Oh no! No need for any such things. A simple greeting and a handshake will do. My title is just a formality. Really, I'm one of a few surviving relics of a bygone era here in Baharuth."
"Where we're from," Gareth said between bites of his pastry treat, "the very idea of dukes, kings, and queens are considered to be that: relics."
"Really?" the duke blinked in surprise. "How marvelous! I know of no modern human society that doesn't have at least a king or a lord. The closest thing to a society that you describe is the Argland Council State. But even there, despite their parliament of elected officials, power is ultimately held in the hands of the Dragon Lords."
"Yes, well, our lands are very…very far away."
A somber atmosphere suddenly flooded the room, and the duke cleared his throat in an effort to dissipate it.
"Well then, as much as I would love to stay and chat, I must leave you for now. I have to check in with preparations at the Grand Arena. The games should be starting in a few hours and everything must be perfect for His Highness. Can't have another manticore escape and eat one of the audience members."
Duke Fulton smiled and gave a slight bow to each of the players and left.
Once the duke was gone, Kane smiled. "What a nice guy."
Finishing the pastry, Gareth sighed contentedly and licked the glaze off his fingers. It's been a long time since he's had anything this good. Back home, cakes and other sweets were a rarity and were often savored if one were able to afford one. While tasty, those sweets couldn't hold a candle to this stuff.
With the sweet, vanilla and cinnamon flavor still in his mouth, Gareth asked Damien if he had any more.
The Artificer grinned and dug into his satchel and began pulling out all manner of delicious smelling pastries and desserts: Seed Cakes, Birch Cookies, Sweet Rolls, Honeycomb Brittle, Toffee, Chocolate Squares, Spun Sugar and something called Ravenberry Tarts.
The trio divided the sweets amongst themselves evenly and dug into the sweet haul. The three ate in silence, savoring each bite and listening to the sound of the busy street outside the window.
"You know," Damien said in between bites, "we could try giving you some suggestions if it helps."
"Hm? Oh, right."
Despite his offer, Damien himself seemed stumped on what Gareth could play.
"Just play a love song," Kane said, biting into a Ravenberry Tart. "People like that. Maybe something sad and heart wrenching."
"Like what?"
Kane grinned, causing bits of dark blue jelly to leak out of his mouth.
Gareth rolled his eyes. "No. Not that one. I want to entertain them, not make them think about death."
"How about something classical?" Damien suggested. "Those songs are timeless."
The bard nodded slowly, considering it. Back home there was a colossal backlog of music. Anything older than fifty years is often considered "Classical," even though the term was officially reserved for artists like Mozart and Bach.
"That could be a good place to start," Gareth said, taking a bite out of a Seed Cake.
"Speaking of Classical," Kane said, glancing at Damien. "Don't you have something you wanted to ask Gareth?"
The Artificer gave Kane a confused look before it struck him.
"Oh! Right!"
Digging into his satchel once more, Damien pulled out a thick leather bound book and set it on the coffee table.
"What is it?" Gareth asked.
"A book he found," Kane answered, "in a super secret underground hideout underneath the Azerlisia Mountains."
"A hideout designed to be exactly like the labs in that old movie, Nightmare Land," Damien added excitedly.
"Seriously?" Gareth said, surprised.
Damien nodded. "I believe that hideout, along with that little cave you found a while back, was created by another Player. A Player who was here long before us."
"And?" Kane said, urging the Artificer to continue.
"And I think I know this Player."
Gareth's eyebrows shot up. "You do?"
"Back in YGGDRASIL, have you ever encountered a guy who called himself 'The Toy Maker'?"
Gareth thought long and hard and, after another bite of Seed Cake, a memory surfaced. It was in the aftermath of a massive PVP battle royale in Vanaheim. He and Olivia had barely survived that one and had decided to sell their unwanted loot in a nearby hub city. They wound up going to a modest little shop that was dubbed "The Toy Market."
It was off the beaten path but Olivia insisted they visit the Toy Market, saying she was friends with the owner and could get a good deal.
"Yeah," Gareth said slowly, his mind returning to the present. "Yeah, I-I remember him. He was friends with Olivia. Rather rude and impatient."
The bard looked at Damien. "You're saying that he was here too?"
"And judging from that ring you found, it's likely Olivia and the rest of their guild ended up here too."
Gareth swallowed the last bit of Seed Cake and struggled to understand the sensation he was feeling. Was it fear? Excitement? Sadness? While the bard had a feeling that there were other people from YGGDRASIL in this world, not only did they now have definitive evidence of other Players, they even knew these Players.
"This book," Damien continued, sliding the book over to Gareth. "I believe it's the Toy Maker's Journal. I can't read it because it's written in code. Since you're a Bard, maybe you might have some luck."
"I did pour some levels into written language skills," Gareth admitted, picking up the book. "Part of it deals with codes. The higher the level of a bard, the better their code breaking and code making skills."
The bard opened the book carefully. The leather binding creaked a little, unleashing a small whiff of dust and age. The cover page had a symbol, an intricate circular maze in the palm of a hand, same as the symbol Gareth saw on the sign that hung over the door of the Toy Market. Turning the page, he found a small inscription.
"Property of the one and only Toy Maker…the Great Sugita Kichirou," Gareth read aloud.
Damien's eyes widened. "You can read it?"
Gareth flipped the page and found the first entry. He scowled. "Kind of. There are parts here that are still in code, like actual code from our world."
"Double encryption…" the Artificer murmured in amazement. "Sounds like someone really valued his privacy."
"Looks old fashioned. Maybe a Book Cipher."
Kane frowned. "How'd you know that?"
"Saw it in an old spy movie."
"Tell us what you can read?" Damien asked, almost breathless.
Gareth scanned the page and translated what he could.
"Congratulations to you who hold this volume in your hand! What you are now holding is the secret history of I, the Toy Maker, the King of Dreams, Lord of Forges and Paramour of the exquisite…To have come this far and have deciphered my code, you have proven yourself worthy. Within these pages are my truest thoughts and my history. I also leave to you, dear reader, my full and honest confession: I have failed. Despite my ingenuity, my cleverness and all my hard work, I have failed."
Gareth trailed off and glanced ahead to the next few pages.
"From here it gets tougher to read. Sorry, I guess I should've put more levels into my [Cryptic Scholar] skills."
"No, no, that's okay!" Damien said, grinning. "You did good. We just need to find the key to this cipher."
"Which could be anything," Kane pointed out. "A cookbook, a dictionary, a generic fantasy novel."
"Right," the Artificer deflated a little.
"If it helps, I can try and translate what I can and see if there's any clues."
"If it's not too much trouble."
Gareth waved a hand. "It's the least I can do for the desserts you brought."
"Sooo, back to the original issue," Kane drawled, "what the hell are you gonna play at the party?"
The bard glared at his brother, who grinned mischievously.
"I can do two things at once,"
"Alright, just don't procrastinate. You may have a few days but those can go by in a snap."
The bard retrieved some parchment and a quill. He prepared himself for what he might find in the book. Staring at that book, Gareth found himself thinking back to that day at the Toy Market. Despite the proprietor's condescending and rude attitude, Olivia made the experience seem…pleasant. She laughed and made jokes about the battle royale that occurred only moments before. It was hard to believe that she was the same person who'd stab him in the back and rob him later on.
Gareth shook his head, opened the book and began translating.
As the bard began to formulate a plan for the Emperor's party, the schemes of another began to fall into place elsewhere.
Sitting alone at a table beside the front window inside a crowded tavern was a tall, lithe man with reddish-brown hair and a fox-like face. The man wore plain clothing and a long blue cape. To an outside observer, he was just some handsome stranger having a drink alone. But to those who knew him, the man was up to no good. His brown eyes scanned the tavern's interior, as if searching for a new target to fleece. The tavern's door opened, causing some to pause from their conversations and celebrations to look. The lithe man glanced at the door and saw that his comrade had arrived. He nodded at the new arrival, signaling him to approach. While it wasn't always a good idea to meet in public, taverns such as these on a week like this, were always crowded and loud enough to hide a clandestine meeting in plain sight. It also helped that this particular tavern, the Champion's Rest, was positioned across the street from the Grand Arena as the games had just kicked off. Lots of people, a lot of camouflage.
"What took you so long?" the man asked. "Let me guess: you stopped by the butcher's stall again?"
"I can't help it!" whined his comrade, a young boy with yellow cat-like eyes "The meat…it calls to me!"
"As long as you did what you were supposed to, I don't mind. Did you?"
"What?"
"Do what you were supposed to do!"
"Of course I did!"
The yellow eyed youth leaned forward and spoke in a hushed tone. "The others are getting their idols into position. There's a little trouble in the northeastern district but it should be ready before the big night."
The fox-faced man nodded slowly. The big night, the Emperor's fancy shindig, the big heist. While the man and his cohorts weren't directly attached to that project, they were tasked with ensuring that it went off without a hitch.
"However," the young boy added hesitantly. "There may be a bit of a problem."
"Hmm?" the man asked, after sipping his ale.
"The Adamantite-level Adventurer team Blue Rose is here. As well as two Paladins of the Faith of the Four."
The lithe criminal tilted his head. Now that was a problem. Adamantite-class Adventurers were supposed to be the best of the best and they had heard rumors of the "Paladins of the Faith" during their time in the Theocracy. Word from the Theocracy grapevine was that the High Priests of the Faith of the Four had been laboring in secret to create an "enhanced human." What this meant was up for speculation but the general consensus was that it was a human that was artificially pushed beyond their natural limits. A neat idea but, according to the Theocracy's finest minds, has yet to yield any stable results.
"What do you think we should do?" the youth asked.
"Nothing, for now," the man said, glancing out the window. "Everything is going according to plan and any sudden moves could put it in jeopardy. Besides, they'll be on the lookout for vampires, not humans or guys like us."
The boy with cat-like eyes tilted his head. "What if one of the guys panics? Adamantite Adventurers are supposed to be no joke and their presence could make someone jumpy. What if one of them tries to tell Lucian about us?"
"Then I suppose we'll have to make sure nobody breaks rank" the man sighed with annoyance. "The boss really wants this job to go off without a hitch and would be sorely disappointed if we waste this exceptionally rare opportunity."
The boy shivered at the thought of failing their boss. He was patient and understanding but when he got mad…
"Besides," the senior thief smiled, raising his cup of ale. "I highly doubt that some jumped up cutpurse is going to convince Lucian of anything. Who'll he believe? A poor human who lost his nerve at the first sign of trouble or me, good ol' Honest John?"
The boy grinned, exposing fangs. "You."
"Of course! Shh! Shh! They're coming!"
The youth instinctively lowered his head, trying not to be seen. After a few seconds, the young feline lifted his head to get a better look. Outside their window, across the way, the thieving pair spied a trio of blonde girls making their way past the Grand Arena.
"Aaaannnnd, here he comes," Honest John said, glancing further up the road, spying Lucian walking arm-in-arm with a lovely young woman with red hair.
The trio of girls and the romantic pair drew closer and closer. They would've passed each other by, unaware of the other's presence, if it weren't for the presence of the thieving duo in the tavern.
Honest John focused on Lucian and used one of his thief skills, [Phantom Voice], which allowed him to throw his voice a distance. Handy at distracting guards or drawing the attention of the head of a criminal syndicate.
"Over here," Honest John whispered.
Lucian paused and turned his gaze toward the tavern, just in time to have his gaze land on Arche and her two young sisters.
The two watched as the wheels within Lucian's mind turn. They knew that he was looking for a mage to use in his little heist and that Arche was at the top of that list. By facilitating a public meeting in broad daylight, Lucian would be spared having to come up with an awkward excuse to visit her in private and potentially botch it.
Honest John and young Gideon watched as the crime lord greeted Arche and engaged her in conversation. Arche was clearly not interested, but her siblings were happy to meet the man who, in their mind, was a friend of their father. Some pleasantries were exchanged, an introduction of fair Maggie Beckwith of Arven, and soon the conversation drifted toward the Grand Arena. Despite her hesitance, Lucian was able to rope the Furt trio into accompanying him and Maggie to the Arena. Fortunately, the slave battles weren't scheduled for today.
The group of humans joined the flow of citizens and made their way into the Grand Arena.
Honest John's foxy features twisted into a sly smile. He loved his job.
Arche sat alone on her bed, feeling trapped. The sky outside was a dark shade of orange as the sun began to descend. Despite the coming of night, the celebrations and activities outside didn't show any signs of slowing down. After spending the day with her sisters, Arche escorted Kuuderika and Ureirika home. They wanted her to stay, to spend more time with them. But she couldn't. The young mage needed some time alone to think.
After shutting herself away in her own lodgings, Arche collected her thoughts on what had happened today.
The first half of the day was splendid. Spending time with the rest of Foresight and Kuuderika and Ureirika, they took in the sights, sampled the delicious foods and even won a prize during a contest. But then they ran into Lucian at the Grand Arena. The wealthy trader spotted them in the busy street and invited them along to the Arena.
Arche wanted nothing to do with that man. Though handsome and polite, something about him just made her skin crawl. She was later proven correct.
The Furt children were whisked away to the one of the VIP rooms, one that was reserved only for the arena's investors. It was spacious and had a table full of food and drink set up just for them. Ordinarily, Arche would've put up more of a fight to avoid going to the Arena with her sisters. The battles there were gruesome and bloody. Clearly not a place for children as sweet and innocent as Ureirika and Kuuderika. Fortunately, the battles displayed at that time were merely reenactments of famous battles from the Empire's history. So no blood, no slaves screaming and dying. But also no excuse to leave.
For a time, the five of them sat and watched the gladiators reenact the Battle of the Crossing, a famous battle that led to the founding of Arwintar and the Empire. After the last of the "monsters" had fallen and King Jihvath the Bold was crowned, there was an intermission. As the field was cleared and the audience dispersed for restroom breaks, Lucian spoke to her.
Lucian asked about her family and their well-being. Arche answered that they were doing fine.
"Didn't seem that way to me," the man observed.
When asked what he meant, Lucian elaborated that prior to his arrival in the capital, the Furt family had been barely scraping by. Arche shot back that they were doing just fine, which elicited a laugh from the man. The laugh had a mixture of humor and mockery. He then asked her how much, in her opinion, did her family owe.
That stumped Arche. She had a vague idea of the amount but she wasn't sure of the exact amount. She gave him an answer and he responded with the actual sum. Or so he claimed. It was a lot, far more than she expected. Lucian stated that if she were to continue paying off the debt at the rate she was going, it would far exceed her lifetime. Which brought them to the point of their conversation.
"When I paid off those debt collectors, I didn't actually pay your parents' debt," Lucian said coolly. "I bought their debt. They no longer have to answer to those men. They now answer to me."
Arche felt her heart stop.
"What?"
"I now hold your parents' debt. They now owe me money, in addition to their old debts. It's quite a substantial sum."
"Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I have an offer that you might like."
Arche rubbed her temples and laid down on her bed. She laid there, staring up at her ceiling, her thoughts swimming as the encroaching night slowly drained her room of light.
In exchange for forgiving her parents' debt, Arche would have to help Lucian commit treason. Or what amounted to treason.
"You can't be serious?!" she exclaimed.
"I assure you I am very serious," Lucian said firmly. "And why the hesitation?"
"He's the Bloody Emperor! If we fail, my life is not the only one that is forfeit. My family will be executed and that's the best scenario in that situation."
"As opposed to…what, exactly? Scraping and saving for the rest of their lives? Constantly chasing the unattainable goal of regaining their lost privilege and power? Believe me, Arche, I understand where they're coming from and I'm not making this suggestion lightly. My family was just like yours. When our dear Emperor took the throne, I lost everything. I had to watch my father humiliate himself just to provide for us. In the end, he died broken and abandoned by those he believed were his friends."
Arche's gift might not grant her the ability to see through one's soul, but for a moment, she saw within his eyes the same weariness she often saw in the mirror.
Lucian let out a deep sigh. "I know you're scared. To be truthful, I still have my doubts about all this. But this is a job that I have been planning for years. Every detail, every possibility, I have it all planned out. Right now, I'm missing a key piece: you."
"Me?"
"Well, specifically a gifted mage of your level. Unfortunately, I don't know very many competent or experienced magic casters who can perform 3rd Tier spells."
Arche was hesitant. What he said made sense and seemed like a good opportunity. Perhaps too good. Noticing her uncertainty, Lucian assured her that everything was above board.
"I promise, this isn't an assassination attempt. There will be some rough stuff but I swear to you, on my honor as the last living heir of the Harstom family, nobody will be killed."
"Nobody will be killed?"
"It's a simple robbery. In and out. At worst the guards will receive some cuts and bruises, the Emperor and his party guests will be given a good scare and be deprived of some replaceable trinkets."
The young mage pondered the man's words. Considering her parents' debt and their penchant to borrow money just to continue to play noble, it would be handy to have some extra gold. With some extra gold, she could probably retire from being a Worker. Maybe even buy her own permanent place of residence.
In the end, Arche was still indecisive. Lucian nodded in understanding and gave her a day or two to think. The job was going to happen at the end of the week, the night of the Emperor's grand party. By then Maggie, Ureirika, and Kuuderika returned and the mock battles resumed once more. Whether it was fate or irony, Arche didn't know but the battle the reenactors decided to perform was a conflict known as the Battle of the Traitors. It was a massive battle between three of the Eight Greed Kings. This conflict came at the later end of their reign, when they began to turn on each other. These three powerful figures waged a devastating battle that, according to legend, was orchestrated by one of their comrades, the elusive King of Shadows. Arche watched as the exhausted armies began to fall, one by one, cut down by the black clad forces of the traitorous king.
…
The next few days passed by in a blur for Arche. While she spent these days with her sisters and her teammates, her mind kept returning to Lucian's offer. Arche's stomach twisted into a knot. This was a once in a lifetime chance. This could be the path to riches, a path to freeing her family from debt and a way out of the Worker life. On the other hand, it was potentially the path to the executioner's block.
A part of her wanted to tell the other members of Foresight. The four of them have been through life-threatening situations, they had each other's backs. But she didn't tell them. Partly because she knew they'd say no and partly because she'd be endangering them by letting them know. But if she said yes, the young mage would be endangering them regardless.
She considered going to Gareth and asking for his help. Maybe he could advise her on what to do. But it was likely he'd be just as stumped as her. Besides, she'd only be putting him in danger as well.
Finally, as the day of Lucian's deadline had arrived, she settled on her answer.
Arche knocked on the front door of his lavish home. The handsome traitor answered the door.
"What will you have me do?" Arche asked solemnly.
Lucian smiled and invited her inside.
The end of the week has arrived and the celebrations have reached their peak. While many of the smaller celebrations across the capital have lost steam, the wealthy and powerful have only just begun. Packed into their carriages, Arwintar's high society poured through the gates of the Imperial Palace. Among the esteemed guests were the ambassadors of Baharuth's neighbors: the Re-Estize Kingdom, the Argland Council State, the Dwarf Kingdom, the Dragon Kingdom, and the city of Bebard of the Karsanas City-State Alliance. There was even a delegation from the Slane Theocracy, who were invited in an attempt to strengthen the already strained relationship between the two nations.
Gareth shifted uncomfortably as the carriage passed through the outer gates and made its way toward the Imperial Palace.
"Still nervous?" Duke Fulton asked.
"A little," the bard admitted with a small smile.
"I understand. But I have faith in you. You'll do great!"
Gareth nodded, feeling a little better. He'd feel way better if Kane and Damien were with him. Despite having an invitation to the Emperor's big party, it was extended only to the bard. When asked if he could bring his brother and friend, the duke apologized profusely.
"Forgive me, but the Emperor has specified to invite only you. As a performer, you are the only one allowed in. Security has been harsh lately, it's out of my hands."
Gareth wanted to argue but Kane urged him to go.
"Go on without us," the vampire said with a grin. "We'll have our own fun. Right D-man?"
"Huh? Yeah, yeah, fun," Damien murmured. The Artificer was on the couch, thumbing through the Toy Maker's journal and Gareth's rough translations.
"Don't stay out too late!" Kane called out to his brother as the carriage pulled away from the front of the inn. "And stay away from strange women!"
Gareth smiled at his brother's joke and glanced out the window. The Imperial Palace loomed large, like a mountain. It featured an immense dome, surrounded by a variety of towers. Huddled around the immense, sprawling structure were numerous grand looking buildings that looked humble in comparison. According to Duke Fulton, these buildings belonged to the Imperial University, the Imperial Magic Academy, governmental departments, libraries and the Royal Guard.
The carriage came to a stop before the front doors of the palace. The large thick doors lay wide open, exposing the opulent interior. Inside, Gareth could see finely dressed people being directed deeper inside.
No turning back, Gareth breathed. Clenching his fists, his mind ran a million miles an hour as he frantically searched for the perfect song to play–
–Wait. He got it!
Just then, the carriage door opened.
"We're here, sir," the coachman declared. Gareth swallowed another deep breath. He can do this.
…
The inside of the palace was better than Gareth could've guessed. It was spacious and opulently decorated. Expensive crimson and gold rugs, tapestries, paintings and statues of beautiful and regal figures doing heroic things. Lining the corridor were members of the Royal Guard. These guys certainly live up to their job title. Clad in golden magical armor and crimson capes, Gareth could tell they were far different than their more mundane counterparts patrolling the streets.
Following Duke Fulton and the other recent arrivals, Gareth passed through long corridors and lavishly furnished rooms. In moments, the bard and the others came to a halt outside a pair of doors. A servant accepted their invitations, opened the doors and declared their arrival. When it came to their turn, the duke patted Gareth on the back and wished him luck one last time.
"Get out there and dazzle them!"
"Duke Donatus Tiran Fulton!"
Applause arose and the duke entered the ballroom.
"Gareth Silvertongue!"
The bard put on his best smile and strolled through the doorway.
Kane was lying on the couch, staring up at the ceiling. Although he was confident that Gareth would be fine, the vampire didn't trust this Emperor guy.
From what he heard over the course of this week, while the Emperor made life better for the common man, he was still particularly ruthless. Many people were slain under his rule, and while it was true that most of them were rich nobles, their fat wallets didn't necessarily mean that they deserved the blade, nor their assets seized unjustly. The fact that he supposedly killed his own family members to secure the throne did not help either.
Additionally, there was the matter of slavery. Slavery was always an awful institution but having seen first hand how elves are treated and having heard horror stories of cities completely dominated by the Megacorps back home, Kane's opinion of anyone upholding such a practice would be dim at best. Which was why both of the brothers did what they could to free slaves and rebel against such an institution. Despite their powers and their impeccable track record, it was going to take a hell of a lot more than their late night capers to put an end to it. The change had to be bigger and more audacious. Better yet, change could come from the top. But that was as likely as pigs flying. No, wait, that was a bad allegory for this world. It was about as likely as turning lead to gold.
Thinking of the Bronze Ox Inn, Kane wasn't keen on leading so overthrowing the Imperial government was out. Maybe they could brainwash Jircniv and make him change things. Nah, that would be temporary and would require them to keep him under their permanent control. Kane sighed and decided that the problem wasn't going to fix itself in a single night. Jircniv, for all his faults, seemed like an effective leader. A ruthless, egotistical jackass to be sure, but there's room for improvement. Life has a funny way of catching people by surprise.
Like right now, Kane thought, bolting upright.
"Damien, get down!"
CRASH!
Suddenly two of the street facing windows exploded as a pair of figures clad in white crashed through them.
Damien, fortunately, was paying attention, and had quickly dumped the Toy Maker's book and Gareth's notes into his inventory and dove for cover.
The vampire got a good look at the intruders. The two were dressed in shiny silver armor and wore white cloaks and masks. One wielded a large broadsword, while the other wielded a thin, curved blade that looked like a katana.
It is a katana, Kane thought as he summoned his Reaper's Talons. Twirling his twin short swords, the vampire grinned.
"You know that you gotta pay for that, right?"
"In the name of the Four Great Gods, you shall be punished, undead filth!" snarled one of the figures.
"Don't be racist," Kane scoffed before he disappeared in a dark blur.
The two stiffened.
"Where did he-?" the intruder with the broadsword muttered, before being kicked through the ruined windows.
"Bastard!" the katana-wielder snarled. "[Martial Art: Full Moon Slash]!" The white clad warrior swung, unleashing arcs of mystic blue light at the vampire.
The vampire rounded on the other intruder and, with a few quick slashes, broke the attack into tiny pieces. Faint blue embers flew past Kane and rained down on the furniture and floor like snowflakes. The blue embers flickered and faded, but not before burning some holes in the things they touched.
Kane vanished again and reappeared in front of the enemy, delivering a devastating roundhouse kick, sending them crashing through the wall.
"Who are these guys?" Damien asked, poking his head up from behind one of the chairs.
"No idea…"
Glancing out the hole in the wall, he saw the two white cloaks picking themselves up off the ground. The vampire raised an eyebrow.
"...but they're tougher than they look."
"What do we do?"
Kane thought about it carefully. The vampire could kill them but that probably wouldn't be the end of it. Hell, there'll probably be dozens, maybe hundreds, of these masked weirdos showing up next time. There's also the chance that Kane might go overboard, just like at that bandit hideout outside of E-Rantel. Which was why he's been trying to take it easy and not get his blood going. If he ends up cutting loose, there will be plenty of casualties.
What would Gareth do? Kane thought to himself.
After a few moments, the vampire got an idea. He glanced at Damien and told him.
The Artificer's brows knitted together in confusion. "I-I don't think that's a very good idea."
"It's not, but it could help us learn a few things."
"Or it could get you killed."
"True," Kane nodded. "But hey, I'm a gambler."
Damien sighed. "Alright, but first take this." The Artificer dug into his coat pocket and pulled out a bronze orb.
Kane accepted the orb and inspected it. The surface was smooth, shiny and had intricate designs etched into it.
"Just in case you can't get yourself out of this bind. Plus, it'll help me keep tabs on you."
"How does it work?" the vampiric assassin asked.
"Just utter the code phrase to activate it."
"Which is…?"
Damien hesitated for a moment before muttering. "Hoochie Mama."
Kane laughed and was going to say how ridiculous it was, but sensed his enemies had recovered. He whirled around and blocked the swing of a broadsword.
"Impressive," the masked enemy said emotionlessly.
"But not good enough!" growled the second attacker who appeared behind the vampire.
Kane looked back in surprise, just as the second enemy aimed what looked like an open Russian nesting doll at him. The vampire felt himself being pulled into the doll. He returned his blades to his inventory and allowed himself to be swallowed by the mysterious item. The last thing he saw before everything turning black, was Damien making a quick and silent escape.
…
The white cloaked paladin sealed the doll up with its top half, encasing the undead within its confines. Silence filled the ruined room and the paladin allowed herself a moment to catch her breath. Her body still ached, despite its miraculous regenerative abilities. Of all the monsters she and her partner had ever faced, this undead was by far the strongest. She could barely see his movements and he knocked them around like nothing. It would seem that the stories of the Vampire Lords were true.
"Let's go," Claire said, tucking the doll under her arm. "The doll won't hold forever and the others should be ready."
"What of the other one?" her companion asked, sheathing her broadsword.
"Leave him, for now. We can deal with him later."
The other paladin nodded and the two vanished in a blur of white and gray.
Back at the Imperial palace, the party was going swimmingly. At least, as far as Gareth could tell. The blonde bard had arrived to applause and cheers and had found himself swarmed by guests. Time blurred as a parade of names and faces passed him by, talking to him, talking at him, and sort of just moving him along from conversation to conversation. Merchants, Government Ministers, Knights, Bankers, even a Lord.
Gareth's head spun at all the questions he was bombarded with but he managed to handle himself by answering what he can, expertly dodging tougher ones and outright ignoring the stranger ones. All through the evening, as the wine flowed and conversations progressed, a steady stream of performers stepped up to entertain the party.
Although some were clearly nervous and jittery, each entertainer performed their parts perfectly. The applause ranged from mild to fierce. One performer, another bard, received an applause that lasted a rather long time.
"A splendid performance!" cheered Lady Ivra Andolin.
"I'll say," agreed her daughter, Kya.
"What do you say, Gareth?" Khusen Andolin, Lady Andolin's husband, asked.
These three members of the wealthy Andolin merchant clan were Gareth's current companions, having taken the place of the rather stiff diplomat from Re-Estize. They were good company, though half of what they talked about went right over his head.
"Good! Good." Christ, that was embarrassing.
"Getting stage fright, are we?" Khusen asked half-teasingly.
"Yeah, something like that." If his race was capable of sweating, he sure was now.
Gareth glanced over to Duke Fulton, who stood at the far end of the ballroom near the makeshift stage where the performers did their thing. Fortunately, it seemed that it wasn't his turn as another performer, a juggler, took the stage. However, the duke searched the crowd and spied Gareth. He made a gesture, indicating that he was up after the juggler.
"Quite the selection of performers," Ivra observed. "Certainly an improvement over last year's crop."
"We have Duke Fulton to thank for that," a new voice spoke.
Gareth looked and nearly choked on his wine.
"I'm glad to hear that my guests are enjoying themselves," Emperor Jircniv said. The young monarch was dressed in fine silk robes of black and gold. Accompanying him were two of his Four Imperial Knights, dressed more for battle than a birthday party. The first knight was a large middle-aged blond man with blue eyes, a ponytail and a small beard on his chin. He was tall and looked to be muscular, the very image of a knight. The second knight was a woman. She was a head shorter than her fellow knight and had long blond hair with bangs covering the right side of her face.
"My liege!" Lady Andolin said as she and her daughter curtsied for the monarch.
Khusen and Gareth bowed and the Emperor, in turn, nodded to them.
"I have already met the Andolin family, so I must assume that you are Master Gareth Silvertongue."
"You assumed correct, sir," Gareth chuckled a little, and immediately chided himself.
"You and your party accompanied my old friend, General Zirdam Ginostus, on his dragon hunt."
The bard nodded.
The Emperor held Gareth in his gaze, as if he were trying to read his mind or analyze every inch of him. His face betrayed nothing. After an uncomfortable silence, the Emperor smiled.
"I must say that it is a pleasure to have an Adventurer like you here. My old friend has had nothing but good things to say of you."
"He did?"
"Of course, he said that you are quite the minstrel and fought valiantly for our dwarven allies."
The Emperor nodded his head at the bard "For that, you have my thanks."
"I-It's really n-nothing. I-I was doing what any other Adventurer would."
The Emperor gestured to his armored escorts. "These are but two of my Four Imperial Knights, the finest warriors in the Empire and my personal guard. This-" he gestured to the woman "is Leinas Rockbruise."
The woman gave Gareth a curt nod and a grunt of acknowledgement.
"And this is Baziwood Peshmel."
"So, this is the guy that led that Adventurer group that killed those Frost Giants?" the large knight asked, looking Gareth up and down.
"Y-Yeah."
"Hmm, I still don't believe it."
"I-We had help," Gareth added. "From an old friend."
Baziwood chuckled. "Relax! I'm just busting your chops. If the General and Nimble say you're good, then you're alright with me!"
Gareth chuckled and silently wished this conversation, no, this whole evening was over already.
The Andolins soon excused themselves and withdrew. They soon congregated with another group, composed of other wealthy merchant families. The Emperor turned his gaze toward the stage. The juggler was balancing himself in a twisted, precarious position and was readying himself to juggle with knives.
"Tell me, Master Silvertongue," the young monarch said, in a soft voice, "and answer me truthfully. What do you think of my empire?"
"I'm sorry?" Gareth blinked.
"What do you think of my empire?"
Gareth's inhuman heart nearly stopped at that question. Oh shit, no getting out of this one. Either he tells the truth and potentially gets whacked because of it, he tells the truth and the young emperor respects him for it (before he kills him anyways), or he lies. Assuming he can lie well enough.
He can almost hear his brother laughing at the idea of him lying.
"To be honest," Gareth said slowly, gripping his cup of wine tightly. "I think it's…nice."
The Emperor blinked and gave the bard a funny look. "Nice?"
He let out an amused chuckle. "I don't believe I've heard it described as 'Nice.'"
"Well…how do I put this? Its formation, while crude, is admirable. I mean, a lot of families did get displaced or…well…not alive because of it, but you did share that wealth to the poor and needy. That, and you do give everyone a chance to succeed with public education, so that's a step in the right direction."
Emperor Jircniv nodded slowly. "And how do you feel in regards to the Empire's practice of slavery?"
Oh shit biscuits, Gareth thought. He took a deep breath and decided to just bite the bullet and answer honestly but not too honestly.
"I…dislike it, good sir."
He could feel everyone around him tensing up.
"It's, to be quite frank, a rather cruel practice. Backwards. I don't believe it's something that a modern nation like this should take part in. I mean, after all, the old nobility treated the average citizen no better and now you changed the system to ensure equality and fairness among the people. It just seems…contradictory."
Emperor Jircniv stared at him.
Nervous and unsure of what the monarch was feeling, Gareth quickly added.
"I-I mean, I hear that the Re-Estize Kingdom abolished slavery within their borders. It just seems odd that they would make that step before you did."
The air grew tense and nobody seemed to say or do anything. Up on stage, the juggler seemed to be moving at a slower pace, as if he was waiting for the Emperor to erupt.
Finally, the Emperor chuckled.
"Hm, well you're honest, I'll give you that."
He took a sip of his wine, and the tension in the air seemed to gingerly dissipate.
"Well, truth be told, I am a little weary of the practice myself. It's getting more costly nowadays to keep them trained and alive, and I guess I am getting a little tired of wondering when the next rebellion's going to break out."
Gareth felt himself relax a little. "Yeah, I-I can see that."
"There's also the matter of the Golden Princess," the Emperor said with a half smile. "I can't allow myself to be beaten by that…girl."
Emperor Jircniv shook his head and his voice dropped to a murmur. "I've instituted more reforms and changes, made the hard choices. I endured so much more than she, and yet I'm remembered only as the Bloody Emperor. That…girl, she takes in a street orphan and makes him a knight and is lauded as a saint…an angel. If they only knew how much she…"
The Emperor stopped himself.
"The point is while my moniker has its uses, ultimately, I don't want to die only known for the amount of blood I've shed. I'd like to be known for how many I've saved as well."
Gareth blinked. Huh, he supposed that his karmic senses didn't fail him. For how much he's done and willing to do, for how much darkness he holds within him, there's also some light still left in him.
The bard smiled. "Well, you're still young and have plenty of years ahead of you. I'm certain that, with caution and cleverness, you'll leave behind a legacy that will be celebrated for years to come."
The Emperor glanced at Gareth.
"Who knows? Perhaps one day I'll get to write a song in your honor, your majesty."
Jircniv's eyebrows rose and, slowly, a warm smile formed on his lips. "I like that. I hope to give you that song one day."
The ballroom was suddenly filled with applause. The juggler gave the crowd a bow and left the stage.
Emperor Jircniv gestured toward the stage. "Good luck, Master Silvertongue."
Gareth nodded and made his way through the crowd and climbed onto the stage. He turned and faced the crowd. From up on the stage, the ballroom and the crowd looked way bigger. As all eyes turned toward Gareth, the bard inhaled deeply.
Showtime, he thought to himself.
"Good evening, fair ladies and dear gentlemen," the bard said calmly. "Tonight's song is a song with a story. Well, in some cases, songs are stories and this one is a rather treacherous one."
This caught the audience's attention, as the guests seemed to draw a little closer and listen more intently.
"There was once a brave knight and a fair maiden. A handsome pair, a suitable match. Their love was something out of a fable. Or so it would seem, to an outside observer. While the knight was brave and true, the maiden was more than she seemed. Beneath her fair exterior, lay a heart as cold and as black as a winter's night. She lacked remorse, pity…love. She would stalk the shadows of night, preying upon the innocent and vulnerable."
Gareth paused for dramatic effect.
"The knight's squire knew full well of the maiden's true nature and tried to warn the knight. Despite the evidence presented to him, the knight didn't believe it. He couldn't believe it. He refused to separate himself from her. But why? Some say that she had him in her thrall, under a spell of some sort. Others say that he was waiting for the opportune moment to strike the cruel maiden. Whatever the truth may be, it may never be known. But maybe the truth is far stranger than anyone could imagine. Maybe it was…love. Love is a complicated thing, driving men and women to strange actions. Love…isn't always sweet and it always isn't what it seems."
The bard swept aside his cape and made a flourish with his hands.
[Perfect Illusion]
[Multiple Avatar Vision]
In a flash of light, a small band of illusionary people with blank faces appeared. Equipped with instruments that made the people murmur in wonder, they said and did nothing, awaiting their caster's command. The bard conjured up his lute. On the count of three, the show began.
Gareth stomped his feet along to the beat of the illusionary drums.
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
"Fair maid by day
Her lips are sweet, her words a gentle trill.
A beast by night, my love takes flight, her fangs sharp for the kill
I kiss my dear and thrill with fear, she haunts my waking dreams
Her whisper dancing in my ear: all is not as it seems"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
With a flourish and another [Perfect Illusion], a ghostly woman appeared. Unlike Gareth's phantom band, the woman's face was detailed. Pale, angular, youthful. Her eyes were a deep blue and sharp as knives. Shiny, raven hair cascaded past her shoulders. She glided off the stage and approached the crowd. The crowd withdrew, intimidated by the cold, steely gaze of the phantom.
"Beware all who meet her
The flow'rs sweetest bud
The lady's love a fair facade
Her roses red as blood
All is not as it seems!
Beware all who meet her!
Her eyes like candlelight!
They dance and sway, blue as the day, before she springs to bite!"
The woman sauntered past Baziwood, running a thin, delicate finger under his chin. She gestured for him to follow, to join her as she began to dance. Baziwood grinned though he didn't move. She twirled and spun and lunged at a nearby woman's face, snapping her perfect, pearly teeth like a serpent.
There's venom in her ruby lips, there's ice gone through her veins
My mistress gives me many gifts: sharp pleasure and sweet pains
At times I wish we'd never met, she's beauty and she's beast but
If I tell the solemn truth, my suff'rings worth the feast.
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
Gareth and the band played, weaving a tapestry of music and magic. The bard watched the ghostly woman dance and laugh. She was soon joined by a dull faced phantom knight. She took him by the hand and pulled him into her performance. Their dance was intimate and sultry, which caused some of the audience members to gulp and fan themselves.
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems"
The scene suddenly took a dark turn. The ghostly woman seized the knight's bag, before shoving him down. Confused, the knight reached out for the woman, only to find that she had run off like the wind. To make matters worse, his armor, his sword, all gone, leaving him naked with nothing but the clothes on his back as a pack of hungry looking wolves encircled him.
"If I'm doomed to dance this jig as long as I remain
I may well have a tale to tell and sing my sweet refrain
I've grown to miss each poisoned kiss
I hunger for her schemes
I suffer not, but love my lot, as is not as it seems"
"(All is not as it seems!)"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not!"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
THUMP THUMP
"All is not"
THUMP THUMP
"As it seems!"
The song ended on flourish as the wolves pounced on the vulnerable knight. The ghosts exploded in a shower of golden light, leaving Gareth alone on the stage as he strummed the final notes. The ballroom erupted into cheers and applause, louder than any previous performance. Gareth scanned the crowd and saw that the audience was genuinely entertained. He even earned a few scattered tears. The bard smiled, though it faded a little when he thought of that imaginary knight. For a brief moment there, he could've sworn he saw his own face. His true face. The sadness, the betrayal.
Gareth shook his head and replaced his smile. He can think about that painful part of his past some other time. For now, though, he could worry about whether the performance was sufficient or not.
After the lengthy ovation, the crowd quieted down and all eyes turned toward the Emperor. The young monarch stood at the front of the crowd, his perfect features were still as a pond. A few heartbeats later, the Emperor began to clap. While it wasn't as loud as the others, the fact he was applauding had to be a good sign.
"The rumors were right," the Emperor said at last. "You truly are an artist! Magnificent work! Now I truly want to see that song dedicated to my legacy."
Gareth thanked the Emperor and bowed. Internally, he was both relieved and horrified.
Great, now what do I do? the bard thought nervously.
Oh well, that can wait for a future date. For now, he'll just accept the praise and carry on.
As Gareth entertained and wowed Baharuth's high society, another segment of the Empire's society was about to crash the party.
Scattered about the capital city, hidden away in public areas, were a dozen little silvery idols. These idols had a nasty effect that, if used on a large enough crowd, can cause havoc. Unfortunately, for the citizens of Arwintar, these items were going to do what they were made to do. Although they were intended to go off simultaneously, one was set off a few seconds early. Hidden in the rafters of a crowded tavern, the silvery idols ruby eyes gleamed and began to glow. A dark red smoke poured from the eyes, raining down upon the drunken revelers, who didn't notice one of their number making a hasty exit. It didn't take long for the item's effects to kick in. What was a boisterous and jovial gathering, filled with laughter, jokes and ale, soon turned into a bloody tavern brawl. Screams and curses were hurled, punches thrown and weapons were clambered for.
In a matter of minutes, swaths of the city erupted into brutal violence. The red smoke poured from their hiding places and began to blanket the streets. Very soon fires broke out and the City Watch, the soldiers tasked with keeping the peace, were quickly bogged down by violence and chaos, some of it instigated by their own members who had the misfortune of being touched by the crimson mist.
Lucian watched from the alleyway as the Royal Air Guard began to break off their patrol over the Palace. Ordinarily, these particular soldiers were tasked with the protection of the Palace. However, in an emergency situation where communication amongst the capital's forces were rendered impossible and there were no mages around to help, these griffin riders would give aid wherever they could.
Looking back into the alley, to Rider, Arche, and his cohorts, all dressed in hoods and masks, he grinned and said, "Here we go!"
End of Chapter
(a/n: I hope you enjoyed this chapter! See you next time!)
(References)
(chapter title): a song by Fergie, GoonRock, and Q-Tip
Claire the paladin: Claymore and it's protagonist, Clare.
Gareth's Song: the song is All is Not As It Seems from the Witcher Season 3