Stranded - Chapter 8

Impatient footsteps echoed throughout a vast palace hall. The source of the noise was a tall, well-built man, dressed in a fine combination of black and gold. Embroidered on his cape was the image of a two-headed golden cat, with each head staring straight ahead. A regalia fluttered behind the man, also bearing the same colour scheme and the cat. The man was accompanied by another group of people dressed in fineries and medals, with some bearing swords and whips on their waists. All of them were sit around a table, silently looking at the man pacing around.

Soon, the constant rhythms of the quick footsteps were followed by a low, mumbling noise, as the man started to mutter something under his breath, his hands scratching and ruffling his platinum hair.

“Curses, curses, CURSES! By the grace of Lornax, how in the world could we not find a single, weak, frail pathetic runt, who is a stranger to these lands even! Not even a sign of his telltale, not to mention his corpse! Oh… we are only two weeks away from breaking the treaty… the Empire will eat us alive…”

The man’s mutterings became louder and louder until it became shrieks and wails of despair, echoing around the vast hall. The seated people glanced at each other nervously.

“Your Majesty, if I might be so bold to speak…”

The man stopped, and his head snapped towards the source of the voice. It came from a young man who bore much resemblance to the standing man, with the only striking differences were their eyes and their build. The seated man possessed a much more bulky build, with shining golden eyes. Those eyes stared unwaveringly at the standing man’s blue ones. After a brief silence, which felt like eternity, the standing man waved his hand.

“… Speak.”

“Perhaps, we can send another searching party to the Millas woods, and this time, I will join too, so our search can be extended-”

“No.”

The standing man snapped. He rushed towards the larger man, and held him by his shoulders.

“Listen here, Hero. Firstly, I shall not tolerate more loss of my fine men to the mutated abominations in that forest. Secondly, you are inhabiting my brother’s body, and I will die if any harm were to be done to it. And thirdly, if you are as strong as a fraction of the Sword Saint, I would have approved of your hazardous plan within a blink of an eye-”

The man let go of the seated man’s shoulder and walked towards his vacant seat of the table.

“And do not utter those foolish words again. Your existence is still a valuable asset to our kingdom.”

The man, or more accurately, the King, sat down, his hands playing around with the crown that he has left in his seat in his fit of rage earlier. He nearly sat on it upon returning to his seat.

“So… any more brilliant ideas from my beloved Council…?”

The King looked at the people seated around him. The Hero, who he just admonished earlier, had shrunk and were then resorted to focus his attention on whatever was underneath him. Others avoided the King’s gaze, either chatting amongst themselves or by looking at their nails, sword or whip. All except for a tall, handsome man with brown hair and green eyes, who were staring straight at the King.

“Ordovis, please…”

“You just said it to the Hero before, your Majesty. With my strength, you would have approved of a search party into that forest immediately!”

Ordovis smiled and crossed his arms. The King sighed.

“… No. Do not even think about it.”

“Excuse me, your Majesty. But you literally just uttered that-”

“By the graces of Lornax, NO! You brutish, muscle-brained, oh-so-noble of a Saint! Have you considered the cost, the time and the amount of preparation needed for my men to venture into that freakish forest!? And what if you couldn’t find him? Everything would be a waste!”

Ordovis pursed his lips and let out a frustrated noise. The King sighed and looked at his crown. Heavy is the crown on his hands.

Silence once again dominated the vast hall. The council all looked awkwardly at one another, and at their frustrated monarch. They all silently blamed the faulty summoning ritual that has all gotten them into this predicament.

BANG!

The loud noise snapped the Council and their King from the awkward atmosphere. The King hastily worn his crown on, as the Council directed their gaze towards the source of the noise. The doors of the hall have been flung opened, and there stood a soldier, who was heaving and out of breath. The soldier quickly stood up straight and saluted.

“Hail Elysion! Your Majesty! There have been finally sightings of the missing Trickster!”

The King sighed. He has heard of this report too any times.

“Hail Elysion. Thank you for your report, sergeant, but please turn those clowns away for me, and please recite the order, that if I once again catch one of them lying or trying to trick me with their silly actors with their filthy black wigs…”

“Pardon my rudeness, your Majesty. But fortunately the Veiled Maidens were nearby and have vowed for the report’s validity.”

The King immediately stood up and rushed towards the door. Ear-wrenching sounds of multiple chairs being dragged out as the Council also hastily followed their Monarch, with the sergeant leading the way.

They were led to another hall, in which a throne resided, and the regalias were hung in rows to the end of the hall. In the middle of the hall stood a ragged, dusty man, with two figures clothed in black dresses, their face covered by a black veil. The King hastily assumed his position on his throne, with the Council forming two lines along the hall. The sergeant rushed towards the ragged man, and led him closer to the King. The two black figures silently treaded behind. The ragged man knelt in front of the King, with the sergeant standing next to him.

“You may now speak, and tell me in great details of your findings of the missing Trickster. Do be aware that it is thanks to the Maidens’ grace that you are not shooed away or beheaded by me.”

The ragged man trembled, and his raspy voice rang out.

“M-my greatest gratitude, your M-majesty. Uh- I am Boris, just your good ol’ farmer. My wife is d-dead, and I raised my daughter all on my own. B-but fortunately I was able to provide enough-”

“Please do get straight in the point, Boris. Time is of the essence here, and I do not have time for idle chit chat.”

The King slammed his fist on the throne. The ragged man jolted and trembled even more.

“My d-deepest apologies my Lord. I managed to spot the Trickster when I was wandering around in Millas, looking for a herb to cure my daughter’s illness. As much as I have tried to avoid combat, I was ambushed by those horrific creatures in that wood, and was nearly sent to see our Great Father Lornax. However, a group of people showed up, and managed to take down the horrific beast. And amongst that group, I saw a person matching the descriptions and the portraits of the Trickster-”

The King grabbed onto the edge of his seat, leaning closer. The two black figures behind the ragged man stood still, not moving any muscles.

“Short, black hair, with fair skin, and average height. Brown eyes, thick brows, and he looked very different from us … The only discrepancy was that he was not carrying any large baggage, nor was he wearing exotic clothing and shoes…”

The King raised his hand. The ragged man stopped speaking, he looked down and trembled.

“My dear Boris. My deepest gratitude for your rather helpful story. And based on the reaction of the Veiled Maidens, you are indeed telling the truth. However, for the sake of accuracy, would you mind telling me, when did you encounter the Trickster? And would you mind showing me your palm.”

“W-with greatest pleasure, my Liege… I have just only saw the Trickster in around half of the sun-cycle.”

Boris offered his palms up towards the King. The King beckoned the two silent black figures, the Veiled Maidens to come forward. One of them put their hand on Boris’s palm, while the other reached into her pocket and took out a white flower. The flower-holding maiden plucked out one of the flower’s petals and handed it to the maiden holding Boris’s hand. The flower-maiden then retreated, as the other maiden held the petal with her free hand, while the other hand still grasping on Boris’s hand. The petal suddenly wilted and crumpled away, with Boris let out a light tremble and a yelp. His eyes rolled back onto their sockets, and from it two beams of light shot out. The light coalesced and formed a screen.

All attention was focused at the screen. From the screen, Boris’s heavy breathing came out and dominated the noises. Before his vision was a beast resembling a boar, with four tusks and a silver hide. On the beast’s body were multiple arrows, and a spear impaled onto its torso. Soon, Boris’s breathing calmed down, and his vision shifted towards a figure nearby, who seemed to be crouching. On the figure’s waist hung a small axe and a knife, and lying nearby was a bow. After a while, the figure stood up, revealing itself to be a humanoid figure. The figure turned back and slowly walked towards Boris. And the figure crouched down again, this time facing Boris, on their hands were a odd bunch of strange flowers and herbs. Boris’s hands tremblingly accepted the herbs offered to him, and the point of view on the screen jerked up to the figure’s face.

The King could feel himself trembling in excitement and relief. The Council started to whisper and chatted amongst themselves.

On the screen, just like the description and the portraits, was a black-haired man with thick eyebrows, and fair skinned. He looked very much different from an average Elysian. Or any people in the world of Elandais. He was smiling at Boris, unknowing of what is to come for him for his innocent action.