Chapter 17.4
'Knock-Knock!'
"The emissaries of our hallowed Sword King, Dammarung Alphareg Tfeeldring CXXIII have arrived. And may now enter"
The massive double doors creaked open, revealing a breathtaking sight. Bathed in a soft, ethereal light that spilled from the corridor outside, the throne room of King Dammarung Alphareg Tfeeldring beckoned the emissaries forward. The doors themselves stood as a testament to the craftsmanship of the realm, made of pure white stone that gleamed under the radiance of the sun.
As the emissaries stepped into the chamber, their eyes were immediately drawn to the magnificent carvings on the doors. A figure, resplendent in its detail, was depicted with a sword raised high, locked in eternal combat with a dragon wrought from onyx wood. The dragon seemed to writhe and coil with life, its silver-embossed scales shimmering in the ambient light. The scene evoked a sense of valor and triumph, setting the tone for the audience with the mighty king.
Inside the throne room, the atmosphere shifted dramatically. Shimmering black marble stretched out beneath their feet, a mirrored surface reflecting the ambient light and casting an otherworldly glow upon the emissaries. Silver accents traced intricate patterns along the edges, adding a touch of elegance and regality to the chamber.
Hanging from the lofty ceiling, black banners billowed softly in an unseen breeze. Embroidered upon them, the insignia of the King—a majestic emblem rendered in shimmering silver—proudly displayed his lineage and authority. The banners stood as guardians of the throne room, a silent testament to the power and grandeur contained within those walls.
At the heart of the room, atop a dais made of the same shimmering black marble, sat the throne of King Dammarung Alphareg Tfeeldring. Crafted from a rare and precious violet crystal, the throne emanated a gentle glow, casting a violet hue upon its surroundings. Silver details adorned the edges, intricately etched with symbols of the realm's history and lore.
Behind the throne, towering and magnificent, rose a network of deep black branches that erupted from the marble floor. Their twisted forms seemed to reach towards the heavens, as if seeking to touch the very essence of power. And nestled within the embrace of these dark branches, cystralline fruit glowed with a mesmerizing light, casting a luminous radiance throughout the halls beyond. These extraordinary fruits, born of nature's magic, served as beacons, illuminating the king's domain with their enchanting brilliance.
As the emissaries stepped further into the throne room, the air was filled with a palpable sense of awe and reverence. The scene before them spoke of the king's strength, his history, and the immense power he held over the realm. With every step, they inched closer to the presence of the King, prepared to deliver their messages and behold the might of his rule.
"From the Audrake Manor of Mynil, Lord Durin Audrake." Durin bowed along with his female companions at the steps of the throne, honoring the seated King, before returning to facing him at its foot. The councilmen leered at Durin with a grave sneer after looking upon the young lord's companions.
"Traveling from Greycastle Steppes, Count Galvan Argywn '' The figure's ashen hair was tied up and out of his face in a long braid while the wild bangs hung over his piercing eyes. Walking up the steps and bowing to the King, their stout frame loomed large despite being beneath him. After returning to his place beside the Audrake emissary.
"The Vaunted Saint of Dawn, Luc-Velion Lionhart." Approaching the audience with rising murmurs and whispers as he stood up to the King, granted the first sense of approval from the councilmen. Greeting the Saint after their highness before he joined the others behind him. Throughout this display, the Saint wore an expression of concern and thoughtfulness as though he was at a loss.
"And finally, Conqueror of the Blood-Belts, General Vaultia Ooltyde" The oldest of the emissaries was introduced last, but all that heard his name knew of him. The only one in uniform, despite his short hair and scarred face paired with an imposing build that overshadowed the giant herald of Greycastle the entire room looked upon him with reverence as even the gossiping nobility held their whispers in his presence as he walks up to the king in echoing silence.
A strange sight for any that weren't familiar with his exploits, his slow pace accompanied with the aid of his cane up the steps might garner feelings of sympathy, but anyone who stood beside him on the scarred battlefields of West could be hard pressed to feel anything but certainty and composure.
Reaching the last steps up to the throne, his wooden cane met the base of the obsidian throne before he stopped and got onto his knees. Though he could not see it, the figure seated above him raised a hand:
"Rise, champion of our people. You honor us all that you could come here"
The emissary stood up before saluting him as he wandered down the stairs and joining the rest of the attendees.
As the emissaries settled into their designated places among the attendees, the air in the throne room grew hushed with anticipation. The king, regal and commanding, raised his hand, motioning for everyone to quiet down. Gradually, the murmurs subsided, and all eyes turned to the king as he prepared to address the gathering.
With a commanding voice that filled the room, the king began, "Welcome, esteemed emissaries, to the heart of our kingdom. We are grateful for your swift arrival and the honor you bestow upon us by your presence. Each one of you hails from renowned lineages and carries with you the weight of your respective lands."
He continued, his words resonating with authority, "This kingdom has endured through the ages, facing countless challenges and emerging stronger with each passing threat. Our resilience is woven into the very fabric of our being. And now, it seems our generation is faced with its own trials."
The king's eyes swept across the room, meeting the gazes of the emissaries and the councilmen alike. "While you have come with your own motivations and goals, know that I, too, have need of you. The emerging threats from Ulgree, particularly in the restless land of the West towards the Red Continent, demand our attention and action. It falls upon us, the powerful and influential, to ensure the continued prosperity and safety of our people."
His words hung in the air, carrying the weight of responsibility and urgency. The emissaries exchanged glances, their expressions a mix of determination and curiosity. The councilmen, who initially sneered at Lord Durin, now listened intently, recognizing the gravity of the situation.
The king's gaze rested on each emissary in turn, emphasizing the importance of their role.
"Together, we must navigate the treacherous path ahead, with the strength and wisdom that has characterized our great kingdom throughout history. We must forge alliances, strategize, and rise above any differences for the greater good of our people."
As the king concluded his speech, the room remained silent, the atmosphere charged with a renewed sense of purpose. The emissaries, feeling the weight of their responsibility, nodded in understanding and determination. They understood that their journey to the throne room was only the beginning, and that the fate of their lands and the kingdom rested on their shoulders.
With a final nod of appreciation to the emissaries, the king turned to his councilmen, their eyes reflecting a newfound respect. Together, they would embark on a journey to face the growing threats that loomed on the horizon. And with the collective strength and resolve of the kingdom's powerful and influential, they would strive to ensure the prosperity and security of their people.
As the audience dispersed, the emissaries joined the rest of the attendees, exchanging whispers and knowing glances. They were aware that their individual paths had converged, and a united front would be crucial in the days to come.
The room buzzed with anticipation, as plans were set in motion and alliances forged, all with the shared goal of protecting their beloved kingdom from the looming dangers that awaited them beyond its walls.
"If you can all follow me, we will join His Highness in the Royal Study by the War room" A butler commanded the audience to retire to the study that had been prepared for them. While his sentiments were shared and his intentions were made clear for all who were present, there was more that he needed to relay.
While the emissaries followed after the butler with Lord Durin still engaging with the enthralled noblewomen of the court. Knowing fully well that his companions wouldn't be able to pry him away from his tendencies, they instead joined the rest of the emissaries on the summons.
As the emissaries entered the grand room, their eyes widened in awe at the sight before them. Known as the Royal Study, the space surpassed their expectations, with a passing glance one would be forgiven for believing it rivaled even the famed Astrolabe Library of the Middle Realms.
The very ceiling was adorned with shimmering crystals, casting a soft silver glow upon the vast expanse below. Pillars rose like majestic trees, reaching towards the heavens, while rows upon rows of scrolls, books, and ancient artifacts adorned the space.
The emissaries' attention was immediately captured by the myriad of treasures and knowledge that surrounded them. They couldn't help but be drawn to the rich tapestry of history and power that resonated within those walls. The room seemed to whisper secrets of the past, beckoning them to uncover its mysteries.
In the midst of their wonder, a stern yet shockingly beautiful councilwoman caught their gaze.
With vibrant silver hair that framed her face in a straightened bob and deep violet eyes that possessed an alluring force, she exuded an aura of authority and grace. It was clear to all present that she was a formidable presence, one not to be taken lightly, Ms Vattiya Runeheim.
This councilwoman, known as the guardian of the young Pheeldaronian princes and a valued aid to the King Dammarung, sensed the growing frustration among the councilmen regarding Lord Durin's absence. With a calm yet determined demeanor, she excused herself from the gathering, intending to retrieve the young and impulsive lord.
She walked with purpose, her steps filled with unwavering confidence, as she made her way to the chambers where Lord Durin was still engrossed in conversation with the enamored noblewomen of the court. Despite her composed exterior, a faint exasperation flickered in her eyes. With a gentle rub of her brow, she collected herself and took a deep breath, ready to guide Lord Durin back to the war room.
As Ms Vattiya and Lord Durin entered the room, the atmosphere shifted. Lord Durin, unabashed and unbothered, strolled in with an impressive display of confidence, seemingly unfazed by the councilman's earlier frustrations. His presence commanded attention, and whispers began to flutter throughout the room.
Beside him, the councilwoman's embarrassment was evident, her frustration momentarily eased as she composed herself. Taking a step forward, she approached the seated king, standing tall and unwavering by his side. Her violet eyes met the king's, a silent exchange of understanding passing between them.
The king acknowledged the return of his trusted councilwoman and the wayward lord with a nod of approval. The emissaries and councilmen watched in anticipation, sensing that this gathering was about to take a decisive turn.
As the emissaries' eyes once again surveyed the grandeur of the War room, they couldn't help but feel the weight of their responsibilities intensify. The ancient artifacts, the scrolls filled with knowledge, and the silent whispers of the room seemed to remind them that they were now a part of a grand narrative—a narrative that would shape the destiny of their kingdom.
With determination in their hearts and the power of the room surrounding them, they awaited the words of their king, ready to embark on the path that lay ahead. Little did they know, the challenges they were about to face would test their mettle and forge bonds stronger than any they had known before.
"Lord Durin, your presence at this table is most welcomed."
"It would have be absurd to reject your request for another meeting your Highness, especially after that She-Devil of yours was so persuasive" Lord Durin walked up to the King, bowing once more after being offered his hand to kiss, before turning back to the door seeking the seat furthest from him.
"That won't be necessary my Lord, you will seat yourself beside."
"But my liege" One of his councilmen added, with a look that spoke more of confusion than refusal.
"It's quite alright. What I have to share is for our guest's ears only I'm afraid. Then the rest of you may join the court in celebration. The banquet halls will be ready for the feast very soon." Being helped to their feet by the guards helming the War room's doors, all the councilors were ushered out of the room.
"Ms Runeheim. Please ensure that all is well with my family during the celebrations, after that you may return to my side as soon as possible, I'll be in need of you once we have discussed matters." His aid wasted no time honoring his request, excusing herself before the last of the guards left the room, leaving the undefended King and his emissaries alone.
"My liege, was that truly necessary? Do you not think such a decision is unsafe?" Luc-Velion asked, seated to the left of him, facing Lord Durin with a harsh glare.
"His Highness seems fairly capable of beating an intruder that may try their hand at harming him. Besides, what would that say of us that any harm would come to him in the presence of such a formidable gathering" General Ooltyde spoke firmly and clearly, his wisdom startling the young Sword Saint for a moment, fearing that he may have offended His Majesty.
"Your words are a kindness in themselves, General. But I have not raised my sword in some time. Nevertheless, that may change in the future, depending on how our discussions proceed."
"My liege…" The General added, unsure of what the King was implying.
"Well think about it old man, we are in the War room" Lord Durin spoke shamelessly frustrating them all aside from the General of the King, both of whom took in his words with little hesitation. A heavy weight sat atop the General's brow after listening.
"My liege, if we are truly to prepare for war, have our enemies already made a move?" General Vaultia Ooltyde grip tightened around his cane, with each thought writing an expression of concern on his face, he would look up to face the King as he answered:
"Not yet, old friend. What we do today, we do, for the sake of peace. Peace or complete annihilation"