Making Enemies

The city of Draxis bustled with life within the Royal Castle. A young boy named Oren strolled confidently down a grand corridor, his emerald serpent companion, Emera, trailing gracefully behind him. The pair were making their way toward the main hall of the colossal castle, bantering cheerfully about Emera's insatiable appetite.

"I know, I know, you want to eat," Oren chuckled, glancing back at Emera. Her playful remarks about food had filled the entire journey through the hallway. Despite Emera's beastly nature and lengthy endurance without food, Oren knew her penchant for devouring prey at every opportunity. He also understood her disdain for humans, recognizing that she desired nothing from them but sustenance, though she did seem to enjoy her room in the castle.

"As long as they feed me, I will not eat them, hahaha," Emera chortled, her eyes gleaming mischievously.

Oren couldn't help but chuckle in response. He was aware Emera was teasing, but considering her long life span of over 200 years, she had likely consumed humans in the past.

"Emera, no eating people. I'll make sure they feed you," Oren asserted with a playful tone, struggling to keep a straight face. Emera merely continued to chuckle. "Am I supposed to listen to you, child? Hahahahaa... I'm over 200 years old, hahaha..."

Oren refrained from scolding Emera. He knew she would heed him. Over time, they had formed a unique bond—not simply a master-pet relationship but a true partnership where neither dictated the other. They were a team. Their journey led them into the vast main hall of the castle. Oren remained awestruck by the opulent surroundings adorned with statues and bustling with finely dressed individuals, resembling a miniature town within the hall. Oren, too, was neatly attired, having shed the ragged garments for a more polished appearance after a much-needed extended shower. He now presented himself as a handsome young lad, devoid of the five years' worth of forest growth that once adorned his face. Even his unruly hair had been tamed and neatly braided.

"Oren!" a melodious voice called out.

Turning towards the sound, Oren immediately recognized the speaker. It was Princess Esholyn. Oren was momentarily taken aback by her stunning appearance; she truly embodied the essence of royalty in her resplendent gown adorned with exquisite jewels. Her snow-white hair cascaded elegantly over her shoulders.

The most peculiar aspect was the faint glow surrounding her—a soft, light blue aura emanating from her skin. At the center of her forehead, a small green diamond gleamed, no longer concealed by the forest hood she had worn previously. Flanking her were two young guards, mere years older than Oren, equipped with swords but donned in lightweight, agile armor suitable for swifter warriors or trainees.

Observing Oren's reaction, Esholyn blushed and beckoned him over.

Her left companion, Johnny, quipped, "Looks like Harvey, you've got some competition, huh?"

"Ha! Whatever, Johnny boy. As long as you know it isn't you, hahaha..." replied the guard on Esholyn's right, his laughter tinged with a menacing undertone.

Approaching them, Oren noticed that Johnny bore a striking resemblance to a guard they encountered on the path to the castle. On the other hand, Harvey, the guard on Esholyn's right, warned Oren sternly, "So, this is the runt Esholyn was talking about, huh? Well, I'll tell you now, kid, don't even think of being with Esholyn. I am the only one for her, so you best not try to get in my way."

Oren couldn't resist a smirk. "Oh, so you don't know. Esholyn and I are already together, so you best not get in our way."

Esholyn, caught off guard and blushing deeply, was about to respond when Harvey, incensed, lunged towards Oren. However, he abruptly halted, his attention drawn to Emera, who loomed behind Oren. With half her massive 14-foot body elevated from the ground, she towered over the group of youngsters, causing the guards to recoil in terror, hands instinctively reaching for their swords.

In a swift motion, Oren disarmed both boys, holding their swords effortlessly. He grinned, and they stared back, visibly shaken.

"Hey, kid, you've got some skills, huh? Yet, you're so young," Johnny remarked, admiration coloring his voice. "Say, you should join the princess's guard. I'm positive you would excel in the initial test, and I'm not about to challenge your acceptance."

Esholyn blushed once more, though she remained silent.

"Not a chance!" Harvey retorted, seething with anger. "You've seen this little punk use some stupid trick, and now you're afraid of him, even willing to invite him to our guard!... You truly are a chump. That beast's aura is wasted on your father!" He glared at Oren. "Punk, if you even think about joining Esholyn's guard, I'll personally run you through."

"Shut up, Harvey!" Esholyn interjected, her frustration palpable. "I shall choose whom I want for MY Guard."

Ignoring her, Harvey simmered with rage, contemplating how to rid himself of Oren. Meanwhile, Esholyn and Oren had left the guards behind, arriving at their destination—a massive room with ten enormous tables, each hosting about 30 seated guests. Countless platters adorned the tables, their aromatic contents tempting the senses. At the end of the room, the Queen occupied a resplendent throne, exuding majesty with her royal attire that surpassed even Esholyn's elegance. Oil-black hair cascaded delicately down her breast, and she held a silver scepter clasping a shining white orb.

Upon Oren and Esholyn's entry, the Queen observed their unconventional mode of arrival on Emera and Oren's supportive hold around Esholyn's waist. Although Oren's actions were entirely innocent, ensuring Esholyn's stability atop Emera, the Queen remained composed. As soon as Esholyn caught her mother's gaze, she dismounted gracefully from Emera's back, proceeding swiftly to the throne stage and seating herself beside the Queen in a smaller replica of her mother's chair.

The room fell into reverent silence as Esholyn settled in. Amplifying her voice with magic, the Queen addressed the assembly.

"Thank you all for joining us on such short notice. Allow me to introduce Oren, accompanied by his serpent Emera. He will be residing in the castle for an extended period," she announced, gesturing for Oren to approach.

"Please acquaint yourselves with him and extend him the same courtesy as you would my own child."

The crowd looked on, puzzled but respectful, offering slight bows toward Oren.

"Please, everyone, get acquainted. The banquet will commence once Oren has taken his seat."

As the Queen concluded her speech, she indicated a second chair reminiscent of Esholyn's. Although this one bore a more angular, masculine design, contrasting with the delicate curves of Esholyn's and her mother's thrones. With Emera trailing behind, Oren made his way to the designated seat, positioned between the two royals.

Whispers erupted throughout the room as attendees exchanged astonished murmurs, attempting to conceal their reactions. Oren couldn't help but notice their gazes shifting toward an empty space adjacent to the Queen's throne, eliciting expressions ranging from sorrow to indignation. It dawned on him that no one had mentioned Esholyn's father or the existence of a reigning king beside her mother. Reflecting on his own circumstances, Oren decided against delving into theirs.

Perceiving Oren's contemplative demeanor, the Queen addressed him softly, her words intended solely for Oren and Esholyn's ears. "You are not the only one familiar with the pain of loss, Oren." A profound sadness lingered in her eyes for a fleeting moment.

Swiftly regaining her composure, the Queen's tone brightened. "Oh, I almost forgot. Esholyn, take Oren to the field where we keep the livestock."

Turning to Oren, she continued, "Select a suitable food breed for Emera; I will have them delivered to her designated area."

"No problem, thank you. She's been complaining about food all day," Oren chuckled, a playful glint in his eyes. Despite the tantalizing aromas wafting through the air, Emera remained indifferent to human-cooked food and aromatic spices, preferring to hunt her meals like a typical predator.

"Okay, Mom," Esholyn acknowledged politely, rising from her seat and motioning for Oren to follow. Oren swiftly joined her, Emera coiled around his chair, poised to move at his command—unaware of the surprise awaiting her.

Esholyn led Oren and Emera through the seated guests, her gaze briefly meeting Harvey's disdainful stare from afar. Sensing his disapproval, Oren reached for Esholyn's hand as they approached a long corridor. Esholyn, understanding his gesture, reciprocated, casting a playful glance at Harvey, sticking out her tongue in jest.

Oren burst into laughter as they entered the corridor.

"Esholyn, you enjoy making enemies?" he quipped, still giggling.

"Hey, he started it," Oren replied, his laughter contagious.