Chapter 2: A cursed name

With the fusses all around gradually easing out from the local markets through the neighboring villages, up through the major checkpoints of armed martial men to the Glass district and even the King's Inner Court. It was rather a significant occurrence than the previous four days, where the nights were no different than the morning, with people still up and working.

The day being the name day, very much closer, knocking as the moon sets in. Everyone's presence was mandatory to witness who would later on be announced to go by the title "Fel".

Fel was the common name addressed to anyone sworn to the crown while those who were sworn to pay allegiance, served the throne with the title 'Sel", boldly standing before their family name. From even a view as far as possible, the inner Court was already well lit with floating helium lamps, bearing on it the mark of three cones intersecting at their peak. The mark was a unique representation of the Folds. The inner walls on the other hand, bore unique totems in the shape of apes, casted in pure gold, fastened to the walls. The ape figure had their mouths agape and in it laid the flames burning brilliantly exhaling waft of sweet burning incest.

"how about this?", Roove asked, admiring the look of the multi-colored garment from pure quill cotton as he stood affront a huge mirror. He was in his closet-dress room, the 3rd one precisely with his brother playing the role of a fashionista. He could get the best stylists from Dome, or hire a crew of garment makers to make the best and suiting dress-King worthy enough, but he chose his brother to make the dress opinion for him. He was soon about to break the phase of being addressed as Sel Roove to Fel.

He was responsible for the chanting crowd, the noisome days past, the large numbers of fat cows butchered and the rest. It was really a great sight for him, seeing that everyone had their faces painted with smile and laughter and he had done that again, even if it meant a great cost to the throne.

Just before the Six-day feast, he had ensured that the food reserves from the capital be made available for every dweller, irrespective of class, ranging from the rich and wealthy to the poor and homeless. He had a good heart and did all in return of no favor but peace.

"Look pretty good on you," Arthritus commended. He hurriedly emptied a jar of flavored liquid into a glass cup with a golden ring at the brink. 'Do you care for some cocktail?" he asked, stretching the cup to his brother having filled his cup first.

The bedroom was a wide one, it accommodated a bar area in it. "Oh yeah, I do," he replied taking a seep from the cup as he took a seat by Arthur.

He immediately spat out the content to the ground. "what the hell," he complained. It was a very strong alcohol than the Edenian wine itself.

"Drink up, all of it," Arthur demanded. He held on his other hand a short dagger knife, threatening to let it through Roove's abdomen if he didn't cooperate, with a limited diameter to escape.

It was the both of them in the room and no one happened to be nearby at all. Roove felt like he had his body burrowed in liquid nitrogen at the moment. He just stared eye to eye with Arthur, mute of words.

Roove's facial expression became very bitter and sore. 'Damn!, damn, damn…, damn,' he uttered, violently shaking his head in regret. "You consulted with the Order of Medith, right?..., I knew it all along."

It was so risky this time, Roove letting out these words didn't even mean anything to Arthur, he only cared about getting the title "Fel", labelled to his name.

"And that brings the question, where is the book, the Book of the Order of Medith?" Arthur had no joy at all, it was like every second Roove delayed to give a response, his blood drew short and boiled. Roove quickly drank all of the content in the cup following as instructed, he didn't want to let go off that information, and probably didn't want to feel the pain when the knife comes through either.

"I have no idea where the book or whatsoever it is, I am definitely the wrong person to be questioned at the moment," Roove replied calmly. The alcohol had begun with its drowsing effects. The bedroom itself was large enough to pacify any effect of sound even if he had tried to call for help.

"Pretty nice cut, for a stub as dumb as you," Arthur joked. Roove already taught he was referring to slitting his pretty face with the fancy tool he held as he always did to cats when they were much younger.

Just as the heat was escalating, someone knocked on the door. Arthur turned to look at the massive wooden door at the entrance as though he was searching for the right spot to dump the arm at hand.

Roove smiled, his hopes awakened, he knew a couple hundreds of Armies at his service were no mannequin at all, and would be in search of him. It was about hour he would be sworn in. The whole street on the outside right up to the main gates at the Folds was already crowded by merchant men on their horses. Each of them with a double wheeled cart affixed to their horses and loaded with lots of grapes.

"Let us in," The merchant men rallied and railed angrily. They had been out waiting for an hour and few minutes, which was strongly contrasting their agreed delivery time. They have come all the way from as far North as Edeninan Gardens to prepare the Edenian wine, special this time. Time was already against them; 30 good minutes would be elapsed battering the grapes upon large mills and almost an hour would be used up stirring the heated extract to quicken its fermentation. They were not certain if they would be accepted in now, let alone to begin the processing.

At the main entrance, the guards showed no concern to the rallying mob. Most of the merchant men were already drowsy from the long journey and rounds of arguments. Some unsaddled their horses and laid on the ground after carefully laying about six to seven straps of leather as mat to shield their bones from freezing numb.

The rest of them that still had the strength to pull on, hoarded their energy in protesting.

"Open the gates, ….Let us in…,Cowards…" They strongly believed that something is cooking up from within that none of them knew about but could do only with shouting, at least there should be an able-messiah within.

Alas, with a great step from the crowd, came a figure not obviously noticed to be a merchant man or even a lady from amongst the village square. On a very large fur garment covering the whole body and with a piece rolled over the head and tied under the chin. The shadow cast on the face was enhanced by the large torch just right above the scene.

The noise slowly settled down, with every one observing the closest-to-be their able-messiah step out from within. The figure was a short one. A soldier observed that someone had finally pulled enough guts to make a reach out of given boundaries. He alerted the other few guards around.

It was never on their least expectation anyone would disobey their order. They had initially instructed that no one should wander close to the large statue erected in front, even in their sleep walk.

"come in," Arthur ordered. It was certainly not a welcoming theme for Roove. He had expected something like a barge in or a knock down of the door or something not tagged to be soft-related as the case was. But rather the door screeched slowly against the large hinges mounted on its sides. A maiden on a large violet gown was revealed at the door opening. She was one of the serving maidens at the bakery unit, her dress was good looking, her face still retaining an appealing nature, top-notched with her plumy pink cheeks and evenly blue eyes.

Roove recalled who it was immediately. It was Sarah, one of the best in the baking units, her cheese was the best unbeatable piece. She had served as the head baker in the King's personal meal unit and now a senior supervisor to the King on his meals. She carefully carried a medium-sized ceramic tray on her hand covered with a large white towel with the printing of the house mark "the triple cones figure".

Roove didn't utter a word, he much felt like a 12-year-old Roove. Where he had no trait of fear, and was inquisitive of all his sightings, an adventurer at most. Now, his mind had calmed down even if it wasn't the troop of armies he had earlier intended earlier, it certainly wasn't the complete contrast of that.

She brought the tray to rest on a stool amidst both of them and stood a while like she was expecting an order to leave or something. The towel was bulging out from the tray in a slightly unusual style. From observation, Roove could have obviously believed it wasn't cheese bread or lemonade drink and cookies.

Roove turned to Sarah, it was a suspicious look on his face. He had trusted Sarah to handle his meals right from her teenage life. It wasn't because she had this very contagious smile or because of the dark-brown hair, naturally woven as a ponytail or even the flamboyant features she possesses from her linage, "the Sea turtle". But for the fact that her grand-father led the defense against Clan-Antlers in favor of the throne. Her eyes wandered around the room; she didn't was to be considered to be interfering in their course.

"There is something father emphasized on .." Arthur stated, he had pulled his seat much closer to the tray. He signified Sarah to leave with a wink and a quick tilting of his head. Roove became uneasy even as his younger brother had quit threatening him. "…Only death puts humanity to rest…," he added.

The room was already getting hotter, the stone hearth burned more carbon into the enclosed room, it began to choke.

"The death of death is life," Roove followed up immediately. He was his father's favorite amongst the two of them. Fel-Marun, their father would call him anytime he went hunting or archery. He made him sit in power whenever he was out though with the guidance of the elder ministers. For that reason Roove was a master with bow and arrows.

Arthur sat upright and adjusted his position; he reached for the tray and uncovered the content. It was a very young lamb, the deep scars around its abdomen showed it had been wounded by one of the wild beasts in the trenches. It was still breathing regardless but scarcely a drop of life left in it.

By its side was an enclosed bottle of water. Arthur took the bottle and rinsed his hands properly.

Roove could only watch. He had been to the Synacid, the forbidden school of witches. He was sure rinsing the hands were not among their practice for a ritual kind of thing. He was blank of whatever Arthur was mimicking.

Arthur delved his hands into the wounded flesh, sinking his fingers deep into the abdomen that his thumb was the only one left out still above the surface. Just as his hand was digging deep, Arthur came to a halt, his hands already buried in the poor mammal's skin. It was like he had reached the other end of the skin from the inners.

Roove quietly observed around the room keeping his neck stiff and his eyes doing the job. The darkness and heat, the light from the hearth casted to only a portion of the room even directly on the large sculpture of himself holding an ancient totem, the hot white gas floating in jagged manners, the more contradicting image from the mirror revealing a flipped version of what's supposed to be gave a physical likeliness to be so weird. The room had almost perfectly taken the shape of a temple. Or just Roove's conscience playing a fear game.

The mob outside had not relented at all. The whole event was already turning to a stage of attraction. The figure dressed on the very large dark furry cloak, the nearly human-sized torch illuminating the closest surroundings and the statue of a young child handling the harps had made the atmosphere befitting for a scene to remember.

From looks, the figure had no space to entertain fear at all, the crowd had already nearly encircled whoever it was. One of the guard on complete weighs of armor reached to question the person on the huge coat or whatever it is that made a shadow cast in like manner of a bear.

"Hey, Hey," the guard called out from quite a short distance. It was evident that he wasn't totally in a settled state of mind. Everyone could hear his voice crack and watch his grip on the sword fastened to his armor fiddling from the sheath to its handle. The unknown gave no attention at all to the guard and that gave more reason for the noisy atmosphere amongst the crowd.

"You must have missed your way," the guard added adjusting the helmet just to incite fear to the Unknown figure from afar. Opposite him to the left was the large statue of the young boy and the harp. The way he steered at it repeatedly prove that it was likely to be a housing case for something lethal, moreover it was the main gate's point of attraction. He paused from his cautious walk and looked around. All eyes were on the both of them and it now seemed like everyone was on him, following his footsteps at a 60-fps rate. He summoned the courage to confront the unknown directly for a face to face aspect of the conversation. He marched stealthily, a step at a time, carefully holding a lit torch an arm's length from himself, he wouldn't dare risk his life. The extent at which he clenched his grip to the conical handle of the torch made it obvious that he still was uncertain of what he might face in the next few seconds as he drew nearer.

He stepped right in front and waved the torch, flashing it directly at the front of the figure. His eyes widened at the sight of something more of strange than surprise, he didn't dare gaze at who he saw. He turned and threw his face away. Everyone had it on eye-watch as he shakenly withdrew with wobbly steps and uncovered his head from the casing of the helmet. He didn't let out breath from his nostrils as he even battled to stabilize his heartrate. Just in space of few seconds, the crowd had leverage on the little time space to distance themselves creating a larger circular stage.

Like it wasn't even enough, he flung the helmet disposing it amongst the mob of unrested visitors. It was becoming clear that he must have been hypnotized. Just before he started acting weird, the fire burning at the crown of the conical torch fizzled into tiny flares like it had just evaporated. He dropped the empty torch cone on the floor, it was more like it had narrowly slipped from his grip and besides it could no longer serve its purpose.

His mouth was agape and he stood still for almost five good seconds. It was then he realized he had made caricature of not only himself but the entire team of gate guards. It was so ridiculous the way he went on to pick his helmet at the far end of the crowd like it wasn't the same him who flung it there. The only fact that saved him from being mocked was his identity revealed upon removing his helm. Every one gave way as he walked through their midst like a puppet on remote control. He was not in his right consciousness yet. Of course, the mob ranted angrily and some even threw some of the grapes in their crates on him. But those who knew whom he was just watched as the whole surroundings got messed up with grapes.

Those that retaliated were literally unskilled at throwing, most of them were already stained as well. They aimed wrongly and not in their favor. Suddenly the whole scene had become so noisy and they were already throwing at one another.

At the coast of the Froth sea, the market women had already begun to detach their tents from the stands much earlier. There were much rumors that the king would arraign late-comers . As they hurriedly packed up, most of them eventually got covered by the tarpaulin shed knotted around the corners of a square wooden frame. In the coastal region of nether, a simple setup of four supporting wooden stand, a large square frame and a tarpaulin was all it takes to be in business of which the women took advantage of.

The fishermen on the other end had withdrawn their nets from the sea and loading their fishes in barrels ready for assembly at the bay where they would be checked out and paid in full. They had been informed too on the commencement of the name day ceremony. It was past 8 in the evening, so even if they decided to stay more they would fetch out empty nets.

The large walls of the Unyielding was the only demarcation between the Sea froth and the Glass Towers. As usual the whole atmosphere was clustered with combinations of choking fumes from roasted crabs, oysters, fishes and pepper sauce. Though it had that good smell lurking in it.

In the inner chambers of the Kings Court, Roove was already drunk. The alcohol had begun to take its dizzying effect. He couldn't even interpret whatever image he saw; everything was blurred as hell. He could notice an object obstructing the lamp, it was Arthur. He was standing and groaned faintly. His hand was still deep into the lamb's abdomen but this time some network of dark matter flowed from his protruding veins and into the animal's skin. It made several incisions on the lamb's flesh and pumped like it was on high pressure. It was nasty for sight.

Just like a metamorphosis, the lamb began to vibrate so tightly on the table as Arthur withdrew his hands from it.

"Wait for it, "Arthur said with a devilish smile inclined to a portion of his face. Roove was not even following through, but he could observe the table vibrate. He was almost slipping off from the chair and occasionally staggered to sit back upright.

"I will guarantee you only one thing, Arthur," Roove said faintly.

"Having all twelve Kingdoms in my service, restricting the return of the forbidden Orders, huh?" Arthur interfered playing with finger on the table.

Roove gave him a reply immediately;" If you eventually get the throne, I promise it won't be a happy ending for you." He seemed to hate his brother's will bitterly. Most especially the return of the Forbidden Orders, that would be pure chaos. The Orders were abolished under his father's rule; Fel-Marun.

Arthur had already helped himself with a bowl of water from one of the large cisterns affixed to the tiled walls. He rinsed his hands repeated scrubbing the back of the blood-stained hand. Suddenly, the shivering lamb settled. Roove could barely see it but at least he did. He paused maintaining a keen look and not letting his sight off the lamb, he held one of the chairs arm tightly.

The large hole at the center of the of the lamb began to close up on its own with spider-webbed pattern of same dark red matter binding the ends of both flesh in place.

"What did you do?" Roove trembled, his eye ball rolled in their sockets. He was frightened even though he had vast knowledge about dark magic, he hasn't physically encountered one this close.

The bones on the limbs of the lamb began to snap, they were obviously elongating. Some of the bones morphed into spiky protrusion on it's skin. The lamb began to make some howling noise in a weird manner. It was then the fire on the lamp dried out. It was so unfortunate for Roove, the room was soundproof from its structure. So even as loud as the noise in the room rose no one would notice.

The entire skin of the lamb had already turned pale and the regions around the eyes were also deep-red. After a moment of snapping of bones and morphing, the lamb came alive. This time it had already taken the look of a shabby hyena, the size almost twice as before and hairier too. It galloped on the tables and was almost turning to face Roove. The joints on the hind limb was yet to be fused to the bone sockets from looks. The lamb was no longer an animal any longer but much closer to be considered as a beast.

"I just brought the dead alive," Arthur praised himself

"Huh?" Roove was totally off balance

" I mean it was almost dead, and I gave it a tier-2 life, a deathless one" Arthur added.

He knew very much how afraid Roove must be. Even though the both of them were taught to kill wild beast before their dad was deceased, they did that with back up security just in case things had gone wrong.

The beast turned to face Roove for no good reason except probably for meat as Arthur spoke. It walked down the table gently and began to walk on an imaginary circle about Roove's position staring him in the eyes. When Arthur saw how frightened Roove was; he was already sweating profusely. He walked up to him and laid his hands on the beast patting it on the back, and in return it crouched and settled.

Roove had so many reasons to talk but for the animal that wandered he kept swallowing his words. He had seen the extent of the canine and how sharp it was when it was reanimated.

"Blacc…mm…..,"Roove mumbled, he knew the cost one needs to pay to conjure dark matter; helips - the liquid fluid that overwrites humanly composition into a dark-creature.

"yeah, yeah, dark matter and the repercussion blah blah blah" Arthur responded, he already knows his brother to be overprotective and he used that as an advantage over him then.