The banquet started off with a roar. The Kingdom of the Left was lively, as children ran through the streets, and bands of fantastical folk paraded and purchased the botanicals and baubles brought on by the Merchant Guild that funded the day's events. 

All was at peace in the Kingdom as Guy walked through the crowded streets, listening in on the otherwordly tunes played by musicians in the streets, as well as, from the plays being held as part of the day's tasks. 

Quite odd tunes at that, something Guy could never piece together as they were quite unlike the music played in his home tribe, nor were they like the typical fare played as ancestral music here in the Kingdom.

It wasn't that he had not heard the music before. In fact, this music was played sometimes in taverns and inns, and once even in the field outside the cave, he would train Cormac in.

It was more akin to the musicians playing music meant for instruments that did not exist, nor words and concepts meant of this world. Just men trying to make sense of discarded trash of a higher being, much like ants to a roadside picnic.

"There must be some kind of way into there,"

Said the Tribesmen to his Chief

"There's too much confusion,

I can't get my relief,

Kings, well, they drink my wine,

Earthrasers dig my earth,

None of them despite the time,

will know what any of it is worth."

The singing drone on, and despite the apparent anti-monarchal tone given off by the song, the people of the Kingdom sang on regardless.

It was well known as the song of the Hero who came to save the Kingdom from a then young, uncontrollable, Lost King Morou. Not that he had sung or played the song, rather that his Neshamah allowed for the otherwordly music to exist.

Making his way up to the noble's quarter, Guy made pleasantries with the many noblemen who attended the event. Finally, making it among the royal family, where he would stay. To many, he would look like a King's trophy. A tamed tribesman, and a useful one at that, as most Exiled would come as failed members of their bloodline, of which he was still one too. Never to forget. But to Guy, he was practically a son of the King's and an older brother and mentor to Cormac. 

As the sun began to make a climb to its peak, an array of chimes began to ring out amongst the noble's quarter. Small stone golems with metals embedded in their fingers had been tapping glasses, urging a silence amongst the nobles in the area.

Virgil spoke up, "Thank you for attending this celebration of mine! But before we go on any further, I would like to propose a toast for the person who made this all possible! After all, an honorable society does pay its debts back in full."

The crowd quieted down, as Ciacco began making his steps up to the podium where Virgil had stood.

However, before Ciacco could make the full distance. Virgil placed his hand on Cormac's back and ushered him forward.

"Son of the King, born of an honorable culture, and the man who, through his own power, has earned the right to the throne. The man who will one day lead us out into the wilds and take back what is rightfully ours. Cormac McCarthy."