“Let’s get cleaned up and rest, shall we, lads?”, Master Garett said aloud. Everyone nodded at Master Garett’s command and headed off to the bathing area Batch had spotted previously. “But, what of Edryd, Master Garret?” Thoma asked. “He’s being taken care of. Quite possibly by that pretty young maiden who was just here,” Garret said. Lucky bastard, Thoma thought, relieved to hear his friend was in very good hands.
The air outside might not have been as cold as it was at Codrean, but the stone walls made for excellent insulators from the sun’s heat. Bernar took the bed next to his brother’s. “Not going to try and light this bed on fire, too, are you?” he asked mockingly. “I’m pretty sure I’ve learned my lesson already. Thanks,” Thoma replied with a sarcastic grin. Bernar nodded, and turned on his opposite side.
First the Master told us that important figures were in the area, and then Fulco made it seem more grandiose than I originally thought. What’s really going on? I guess I’ll cross that bridge when I come to it, Thoma thought. He closed his eyes and imagined himself back on the grassy plain, with the Ethereal’s majestic light show looming overhead.
The next morning, he woke to the sound of a rooster off in the distance. He looked out from the window beside his bed and saw a large muster of people gathering around the doorway by which they had entered the castle the previous evening.The sun was just coming up over the side of the high wall, and a few beams were entering the room. He looked about him from his new viewpoint, and noticed a few others were doing the same. Master Garett walked in. “Rise and shine, daisies,” he yelled, stirring some of the synners who were still asleep. He was already in full harness, his jerkin smelled of lavender and looked almost as good as new.
Thoma scurried out of bed to find his jerkin cleaned and hanging at his bedside. So clean. Almost as if there were never any blood on it to begin with, he thought. He quickly put his gear on, and kicked his brother to get out of bed. “I’m up, you daft little…” he didn’t finish his sentence. Batch and Irun were having some trouble getting into their attire, but that was quickly remedied when Garett used a bit of his mana to pull down the top part of their jerkins.
After a few minutes of hustle and bustle, brushing and tying hair up, getting jerkins, boots and hose on, everyone was ready and formed up. Thoma, Batch, Irun, and Roburn all stood at attention in the front row. The Master looked out over everyone, and did a quick check to ensure none had weapons on them. “We’re not allowed any weapons inside where we’re about to go,” he said. “We must go, gentlemen,” Fulco said as he walked in. “Right this way,” he directed them. The Master went first, then Bernar, Master Garett, followed by Thoma and the others.
Fulco led them back down the same hallways and halls as they had come through the previous evening, and Thoma still couldn’t shake the awe. Every time they walked down a hall, he’d notice something different about it. A new scratch mark, a new painting. It was all so new to him that it took him longer than expected to take it all in.
“What do you think all the commotion is about?” Batch asked with a bit of nervousness. “I wish I knew, but my guess is that it’s going to be important. Otherwise we might not have needed to be here, let alone have so many important figures walking about,” Thoma replied. He had already been thinking about that since looking out of his window earlier that morning. Nevertheless, he had been unsuccessful in getting the answers he wanted. Batch took note of the worried look on his friend’s face.
After a few short minutes walking, Fulco stopped and turned on his heel. All of them paid close attention. “Through this doorway, you will be in the presence of various leaders from all around the Continent,” he said with a grandiose air. Thoma froze almost solid at that last word. I’ve never seen anyone from outside our country aside from Mother, and I barely remember her, he thought. Fulco turned his attention to the Master. “I’m certain your synners will know how to behave themselves in the Council Room, Master,” he said, looking for reassurance. “Of course, my good Fulco,” the Master replied with confidence. “Ah! All is well, then,” Fulco said with relief. “In that case, we may enter,” he said.
Fulco moved to the door and pulled on the lever that kept it locked. The lever clacked and thudded, and the door swung open. Thoma's eyes opened wide. Fulco stepped aside to the left, and showed them into the Council Room.
As they walked through the doorway, they saw leaders from all regions sitting around the largest meeting table on the Continent. The four Lords - King Truls Wishert of Coltend, King Mads Oden of Hjalfar, Bashaa Ibn’Escya of Harut, and Elhael Phrys of Caegwen - observed the synner’s entry. The table’s details could be seen from afar, and portrayed carvings of past battles of between monsters and men. The gold ring that lined the edge of the table was covered in runes - ancient spells for calming and harmony, good judgment and understanding, respect and industriousness. The table’s frame had been carved from a solid oak tree that had once been touched by the gods, and had grown taller and broader than any other of its species.
On the walls, there were countless monster heads - some with horns, some with ghastly mouths agape - hanging from wooden frames with their mouths spread wide in a menacing manner. The stained glass windows were also present, with details of rivers and forests, instead of battles, to remind those present of what they were gathering for.
Thoma walked cautiously behind his older brother. His friends, consequently, walked closely behind him. Everyone was wondering just what was going to happen at this apparent council meeting. Some guessed it was to talk about trade routes, while others thought it would be about farming goods.
None were so close, yet so far from the truth.
“Ladies and gentlemen, please be seated,” Fulco called out. The four kings sat down first, each at the apex of each quadrant of the table. The others sat between them, mixed as they were. Harutians with Coltenders, Hjalfarians with Caegwenis. Well that’s unusual, Thoma thought. “I know what you’re thinking, but it helps maintain a sense of equality during the council,” Master Garret whispered, after noticing Thoma raise an eyebrow. Once the Lords had been seated, the rest of the warriors and councilors sat down.
Thoma sat next to his brother, and Master Garret sat next to the Master. Batch and Irun were split between a Harutian warrior and both tried to avoid cross communication as a result. Truls had his wife - the queen Leona of Maeredia - sit at his right side. Her beauty was angelic, with black hair, pale, blue eyes, and a perfect complexion. In some instances, she had been thought to be an elf of Caegwen, though it was always quickly proven otherwise due to the lack of pointed ears.
“Your majesties, ladies, and gentlemen,” Fulco began. “Please take note of everything that will be said here today, for it may change the course of our history in this world. Feel free to ask questions, so long as they are relevant to what is being discussed, otherwise they will be ignored by the council,” he concluded. “As the primary host of this council, King Truls Wishert of Coltend will be the one to commence,” Fulco finished, bowed, and stepped back.
Truls pushed back his chair and stood. His long, graying hair floated softly on his shoulders, while his beard was neatly trimmed for the occasion. He was not a small man, for his eating habits had caused him to be overweight. His red doublet was stretched tightly across his body, making breathing difficult. His eyes were dark blue, and the bags under his eyes from countless drunken nights showed. His aquiline nose had a large bump in the middle. The crown he wore bore the pattern of the Griffin carved into the gold. He also wore a gold-plated necklace that had the depictions of his feats as a younger man.
“My lords and ladies present,” he began with a voice of rolling thunder. “I am certain most of us here know the reason why I’ve summoned this council,” he said. The three boys looked at each other and raised an eyebrow each. “The monsters have now become too large in number, and we simply cannot sit on our hands any longer. This matter must be resolved. The Synners of the Continent have been doing their best to suppress their numbers, however no matter how many they slay, these bastards keep coming back,” he said, and raised his voice a little at the last word.
“We here, as well as the Synners of Codrean, believe we have found the answer to rid ourselves of these bastards,” he said, and everyone finally understood. Ah, so that’s what the secrecy was for, Thoma thought.
“The Underworld has found a way to leak their monsters through portals that begin in their worlds, and end in ours. I know how that sounds, however, I beg you to let King Elhael Phrys of Caegwen explain it in greater detail, for he is far more intelligent than I,” Truls said. He sat back down in his chair, while Elhael was pushing his chair back. He stood at least a head taller than anyone in the room, and his fair silver hair, straight as an arrow hung down to his middle back. His nearly perfect complexion, lack of beard and bright green eyes made him stand out amidst the others. His pointed ears were sharp, but had a certain elegance to them that matched his other features perfectly.
Comments (0)
See all