Professor Gemstone and the red clad stranger. part 4 (14)

After washing the biggest laundry he'd ever seen by hand and having been told at least twice that he should buy himself some warmer clothes that 'this' – his jacket – if he wanted to live through winter, he waved goodbye to the old servants and made his way to the training hall.

His time with his new acquaintances had done nothing to distract him from his thoughts, unfortunately. He hoped that seeing the children would help him put his mind to rest like being with them usually did.

He was quickly denied that possibility, as he walked closer and realized Dereck was speaking with another adult. Cautious, he slowed his pace. Observing before they noticed him.

Dereck was next to another knight, whom Ezera didn't recognize. It couldn't be one of his own, or Dereck wouldn't bother being so polite with them. There was a figure he couldn't make out behind the two men in armor, as well as another presence behind the corner. As he approached, he could hear them speak of a count of destroyed lands at the borders of the kingdom. It seemed in relation to the arrival of the heroes.

"The queen wishes to keep most of the informations regarding this matter underwrap until we can think of a new course of action. I am only speaking of it to you because your lands have been directly involved with..."

Finally, Dereck noticed him. He turned and nodded at him as a greeting, formally. Ezera did the same, forgoing their usual ways for the sake of appearance.

"This is the man I've spoken to you about. He is the guardian of the heroes and therefore their representative as an aware part of this matter."

He bowed his head, not deeply.

"Professor Ezera Gemstone, sirs."

The knight with Dereck saluted.

"Vautrin of Camelen, sir. Chief of the capital's guard."

The figure behind the knights made itself known. Ezera didn't take long to recognize him. It was the enshrouded figure that had stood next to the Queen during the summoning. Ezera had yet had to see him again.

He didn't like that they arrived when he wasn't there, but what's done was done.

The figure, which turned out to be a high priest from the clothes he was wearing under his dark cape, smiled shrewdly at him as he greeted.

"It is an honor to finally make your acquaintance, professor," he said with a melodious voice. "I am the master of the Church, Adamus Richard Hortensius, at your disposal."

He held out a hand.

"I recently heard shaking hands is a way to greet each other in the world which you come from."

Ezera regarded his extended hand with, perhaps, exagerated caution. He didn't know where the other could have heard that, because none of his students respected these sorts of traditions between one another.

"Was it written in your archives?" He asked amiably, but impassive.

"As a matter of fact, yes it is."

"Then do not worry. There is no need for such practice in your world, therefore we shall do without. Enchanted to meet you," he bowed, deeper that he did for the knight.

The man seemed strangely irritated to have been refused, but he hid it well behind another smile. He discreetly regloved his hand, and Ezera didn't miss the movement. He didn't know what kind of trap that had been, but he was glad to have avoided it.

"I haven't heard a lot about you apart from your continued supervision on the heroes' training. You are quite the elusive character. I have tried to catch you in the palace before but I can never seem to find you."

"I was not aware of this issue," Ezera replied neutrally. "However rest assured, you will always find in the training hall in the morning, should you need for me in any way."

"Yes, that is indeed something I am grateful for. We will have much to speak about at future opportunities."

Dereck coughed politely, attracting both of their attentions. The priest Hortensius turned back.

"Oh, my apologies, I was so distracted I had almost forgotten. Count Ilya."

As the high priest moved out of Ezera's direct line of sight, he finally caught a glimpse of the person hidden behind the corner, with his back straight and dignified, almost resting against the wall with crossed arms.

Ezera carefully didn't react as their eyes met for the first time.

Or rather, the second time.

With the healthy and slightly darker tone of skin of someone who spent his days outside, and with a cold countenance, heavy ebony hair tucked in a large long braid, as well as finely ciseled features, thin lips and eyebrows, here was the swordsman clad in the red coat.

Neither of them reacted.

The high priest resumed without an inkling of their thoughts.

"As the head of the knights was saying earlier, you have nothing to worry about. The lands that have been surrendered to evil will soon be ours again, all thanks to the heroes present here, as you can see. They will soon be ready to enact the will of our god. Rest easy and take the time you need," he said with a patronizing note to his words.

It seemed that the other ignored him entirely though. Ezera's sole concern was of Hortensius potentially taking offense. Fortunately, he left soon after. Vautrin bowed to the Count Ilya, who regarded him with a cold blue-purple gaze that could almost qualify as bored.

"It was an honor to escort you here. I shall return to my duties now. Farewell."

With that, a nod toward Dereck as well as a light bow to Ezera, the man took his leave. Dereck immediately turned to Ilya and asked courteously:

"Do you wish for me to lead you to your quarters, sir?"

The sharp eyes blinked in his direction, briefly, before he uncrossed his arms.

"I have already been shown to them earlier. If you have need of me, you will find me in the library."

He walked away, his silver and red coat trailing behind him with dignity. But he didn't pass by Ezera without exchanging with him a meaningful glance. Ilya narrowed his eyes. Then he was gone.

Ezera waited until all the guests' steps had stopped echoing in the hall before turning to the teenagers training. With how loud that high priest was speaking, there was simply no way that they didn't hear him. In all honesty, the words of the old man had displeased him to the point that he could have skewered him with one of his daggers, as he did the giant snake from the night before: straight into the eye. As it was, he had other thoughts that he should worry about.

"Don't pay attention to what has been said," he told them, his cheering voice echoing strong in the entire hall. "You are obliged to nothing. Ignore them and go at your own pace."

"Yes, professor!" he received a few replies.

"Not like we took anything he said to heart. What with stupid old men that act like they're your masters..."

Ezera smiled as they started grumbling under their breaths, a few smirks and teases here and there. With that concern out of the way, he turned to Dereck, now serious again.

"Who was that?"

"Which one?"

"The red-clad one."

"Oh, him. He's the Count Saera Ilya. He was the youngest son of the late count, but their lands were decimated by monsters a few months ago. There had been no sign of any of them until this week. It's a miracle one of them survived, especially this one who was rumored to be more of an erudit. He arrived earlier today, you might have heard."

Yes. Sara had mentioned it.

However, it didn't coincide with what he had seen last night. If he were meant to be there, why didn't he speak up now? What about the sword that he used?

The mystery of the red-clad stranger wasn't yet solved, it seemed.