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#Post#: 10448--------------------------------------------------
Re: Adagio Farce
DIR By: Rita Arthurs
Date: July 11, 2015, 5:02 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
The figures of flame which seemed human just a few minutes ago
were now circling Marketa, forming almost a ring of fire around
her. Despite Marketa’s efforts to counterattack their flames
with water or ice, she could not find her mark as they ran at a
speed where the figures became a wall of fire, hard to
distinguish anyone apart. There were the occasional impatient
ones who leapt at her, but she was able to extinguish their
flames. Curiously enough, instead of cooling down back to their
humanoid forms, they screeched in agony as they burned out and
turned to ashes.
The trouble was that there were still too many of them running
around and forming the wall of fire around Marketa, occasionally
shooting countless of blazing missiles at Marketa. So far she
was able to counter them; even at the speed the missiles were
thrust at her it was amazing of her to do so, meaning that it
was visible that her tiredness was taking over eventually.
Despite my full concentration… well most of it anyway as I was
still watching Marketa, I still was nowhere near completing my
summons. I could only pray that Marketa would be able to hold
out longer. There was no way that she could lose this. She was
the strongest mage I had ever known of to have ever lived. She
is even rumoured to be on par with the legendary Merlin. With
the rumours that she is still hiding her true strength, she may
be the most powerful being in existence, as far as I knew. It
was merely impossible for her to be defeated. That was my
belief.
Despite what I was telling myself, soon enough my delusion of
Marketa’s unbreakable might was shattered. She missed the chance
to deflect one of the blazing missiles and was struck into her
attacking right hand.
Hissing in pain, for the first time I saw Marketa’s composure
slip, “This… limit is such an inconvenience…”
Once the spies noticed her weakening and opening, they
intensified their attacks, more and more of them breaking out of
the ring of fire and jumping to attack head on. Despite
Marketa’s best efforts, she was unable to deflect all of them in
her current state. More and more burns were appearing on her
body, her dress beginning to get tattered and scorched away. To
make matters worse, one of the living flames clicked their
flaming fingers to let a few sparks fly onto the trail of
explosive powder. The trail burned quickly, and was soon to
reach the first powder keg.
“Enough!” I shouted as I stood up and pointed my index finger
at Marketa’s assailants. I am unsure what my expression looked
like, but it was enough to make them all stop and stare at me.
Even Marketa’s eyes widened as she saw me. I could feel my blood
boil. How dare they assault first my home, and now my tribe
leader? It was all because of them that the small world I lived
in was endangered.
With these thoughts, my spell was cast ten times the power I
originally intended. The sea roared as lightning flashed above
us. Rain began pouring down so hard that it even hurt to stand
under it. The water began to retreat, as if the sea itself was
in fear.
Looking down at the screeching creatures whose flames were
extinguished, I uttered, “Die, scum.” as the water came back in
a large wave, crushing upon the port and washing away everything
I willed it to.
As the sea calmed down into a smaller storm while the water
returned back where it belonged, there was no sight of any of
the spies or whatever those creatures were on the docks of the
port. Thankfully all the crates were secured against such
incidents, as were the ships. They may have been soaking wet,
but at least all the explosive powder was useless.
Well… that also goes for me and Marketa as well. She was still
staring at me as I came to my senses and realised what I have
just done.
“You two are quite similar, huh…” Marketa muttered. I however
was not listening to her.
Looking down at my shaking hands, I cried out and sunk to my
knees as a feeling of nausea took over. Never had I committed
murder. Never had I harmed anyone. Sure, they were spies and
perhaps not even human, they were still living beings. This was
not my intention. Fear overtook every pore of my body. Taking a
life was far worse than I could ever imagine.
“Or perhaps not…” Marketa sighed, “I have never seen such a
reaction… Unless it was hidden…”
Despite the rain and being completely soaked, I still had
tears running down my face uncontrollably. Why? Why was I so
distressed over this?
With another heavy sigh, Marketa approached me and lifted me
up by the shoulders, “As insensitive as this is going to sound,
we can’t stay here with you in this state. Get it together,
kid.”
No matter what Marketa said, I just couldn’t snap out of it.
Panic completely overtook me as I choked on my own fear. With no
other options left, Marketa (after healing herself) half dragged
me back to our inn where at once she shoved me into a bath. Once
in the bath, I was able to steady my nerves slightly. That was
when I realised that I had to put my act together. This sort of
behaviour was beyond embarrassing.
Having calmed down slightly and properly washed up from the
mud, I came out of the bath to find my clothes having been
already clean on the bed. A note was left on top of it.
I opened it with still shaking hands.
‘Marin,
I have taken care of your clothes and am currently out sorting
the damage with Lord Bradshall. Dubris is in need of assistance
more than ever. You are however to rest for tonight as you are
in no condition to help me out. In the state you are currently
in, you are worse than useless so please don’t cause any more
unnecessary trouble.
I do however thank you for saving my life. Don’t get too
conceited.
Marketa.’
Although her words were harsh, she meant well. Besides, she
was right. I was worse than useless right now. Her strength and
ability to remain calm even in such a situation… I really envied
that.
Putting the clothes and the note aside, I shuffled under the
covers. Closing my eyes, I fell into a restless sleep.
Burning… I’m burning!
I felt panic and calm at the same time. This dream… was this
perhaps another memory? I once again felt as though I was an
onlooker as I saw a younger version of myself appear in front of
me. The younger me was looking at me with a worried expression,
anguish clear in the eyes.
Brother… Don’t panic. This happens with beings like us…
Please, calm down! You may hurt someone!
It’s painful! Make it stop! I’M SCARED!
Despite my calmness, I found myself screaming and clutching my
head.
Why won’t it stop?! MAKE IT STOP!!
Looking down at my body, it seems to have been blazing just
like the spies whom I… killed… Soon my surroundings began to
also blaze brightly. Faint screams were heard. Gasping, the
younger me grabbed my hand and dragged me out of the burning
building. Although my younger self’s hand was burning from my
grasp, the younger me never let go. It must have been very
painful.
We carried on running until we were deep inside the forest.
Eventually we stopped by a lake. The younger me finally let go.
Step into this lake. It should soothe your pain and subside
your flames.
Trusting my younger self, I did as I was told. Strangely, the
traces of pain from the memory began to fade out until feeling
of tranquillity took over. Looking down at the distorted by the
water reflexion, it seemed like my body had also stopped
burning.
I turned to look at my younger self who was smiling in relief.
That smile however seemed sad.
Do not fear who you are, brother. You know what our duty is,
so you cannot lose yourself at important times like this. It
will also be inconvenient to those around you…
I found myself lowering my head. It was strange to be scolded
by my younger self. Yet… it also seemed as though the person in
front of me wasn’t exactly… myself, I suppose. There was
something odd. Something out of place. A little different.
Perhaps it was just my memory. Or… could it have been–
“Wake up, already!”
With a yelp, I fell on the carpeted floor as the sheets were
pulled out underneath me.
“Child, I am sure you have had enough rest by now!” Marketa’s
figure was towering over me, blocking the sunlight shining in
from the window. It was morning already?
Yawning, I rubbed my eyes, “Yes, yes… I’m awake already!”
#Post#: 10450--------------------------------------------------
Re: Adagio Farce
DIR By: Rita Arthurs
Date: July 13, 2015, 4:14 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
Coming to my senses, I noticed that strangely enough all of my
things have been packed. A servant was in fact already taking
out my luggage cases.
“We are departing immediately,” Marketa announced
as she dragged me up on a chair. A maid was making my bed for
future guests, “I will explain the situation once we have
boarded the ship. Monsieur Mertiere had kindly offered us his
vessel as he is also making an untimely departure to Liberaux.
Hurry up and get dressed or do you also need help with
that?”
Slightly flustered, I shook my head. After the maid and
Marketa left the room, I hurriedly fumbled with my clothes and
got dressed. Doing the best I could with the time I had, I tried
to tidy up my messed up hair. It would have been best if I could
have brushed it properly, but time was pressing so I hurried to
the already waiting carriage.
Inside, Marketa looked at me as I flopped down on the seat
opposite her, breathing hard. A laugh escaped her lips, “I
never realised you had a strange curl to your hair. Or is this
what they call ‘bed hair’?”
Realising that my attempt at keeping tidy failed, I quickly
tried to untangle my hair with my fingers.
“You are calm this morning,” Marketa looked
outside the window as the carriage took off, “That’s
good…”
Her tone surprised me, stopping me in my track. Was it just me
or did she look… relieved? Well… I suppose anyone
would be after seeing the sorry state I was in last night. Even
remembering the tantrum I put up made my cheeks burn with
embarrassment.
“About that…” I mumbled, “I…
apologise for the unsightly display last night… That was
unbecoming of me…”
A long silence followed. Finally, I had the courage to peek at
Marketa’s reaction and found her simply staring at me. Her
expression was unreadable, “You… really don’t
remember anything, don’t you…?”
I blinked a couple of times before a bitter smile crossed her
features. She shook her head and carried on looking out the
window.
When we arrived at the port, I noticed that there were no
signs of yesterday’s brawl. Work was carried on as usual.
Monsieur Mertiere was the first to greet us as soon as we
stepped outside of the carriage, “Mademoiselle! You have
arrived at last!”
He greeted her similarly to how he did yesterday. My gaze
however was fixated on his outrageous attire. Not only did he
wear a ridiculously massive hat with a long feather, his suit
was decorated with bright silks and jewellery that it hurt the
eye to look at whenever the sun reflected off of them. I can
honestly say that at the moment, comparing him to a pea****
would have been an understatement. He was probably more fabulous
than the majestic bird itself.
Marketa and the said Monsieur Mertiere carried on to exchange
pleasantries as I watched our luggage bags being unloaded and
carried to the ship. The ship itself was grand, fitting a
merchant of Monsieur Mertiere’s status. He guided us
(mostly Marketa while I followed along) towards our rooms and
left saying something about lunch.
“If I heard that correctly…” I said to
Marketa who was looking around the room, “Am I to deduct
from this that I have missed breakfast…?”
“Your assumption is correct,” Marketa confirmed my
fears as she finally found a chair she deemed suitable to rest
upon, “It is already noon, after all.”
I sunk to the floor as the realisation of that hit me. I had
overslept by that long?! No wonder Marketa had to awaken me in
such a fashion this morning!
“Also, I wouldn’t get too comfortable, if I were
you,” Marketa unfolded her fan as she stared out the large
windows at the sea. The fan seemed to be new. Her old one was
probably damaged from yesterday’s fight, “It takes
but a few hours of sail to reach Liberaux from Dubris. We should
be able to get there by the time we finish our lunch.”
Nodding, I crawled upon a chair next to Marketa. I was unsure
of how to ask about the current situation in Dubris.
“If you are wondering,” as usual, Marketa got
there before I could ask, “Despite the excitement of last
night, the spies did not deal as much damage as they probably
wished to. It was fortunate that you were able to spot them and
prevent them from doing so.”
I stared at my own clenched hands. My own pro-activeness last
night surprised me. I never thought I had it in me to run off to
the rescue of some town which held no special significance to
me.
“That said, Lord Bradshall expressed his utmost
gratitude to the Ambassador of Glenton who had bravely fought
off against the intruders,” Marketa finally turned to me
and smiled, “Congratulations on a job well done,
Ambassador.”
Finding myself flustered at the sudden gratitude, I looked
away as I muttered, “It was my duty, nothing
more…”
I heard Marketa nod, “Indeed. You have succeeded in
gaining the trust of the local lords and ladies. The incident
has proven to them that Glenton is a reliable ally.”
I was glad to hear that, yet another thing bothered me from
last night, “Those intruders… they were the same as
the spy we caught near Glenton…”
Marketa let out a deep sigh, folded her fan and massaged her
temples, “So I have guessed, by your reaction to them. It
seems that our speculation about the Almannian Empire’s
plan to invade may be true.”
“Since the port of Dubris is important
strategically.” I nodded. Something was still off though.
It was as if they were playing by the rules, which was too
perfect.
“I think I understand why you have a crease in your
brow,” Marketa lowered her hands, “It does indeed
seem like the perfect set up to blame the Almannian Empire. The
carelessly left over note. The assault on a strategic location,
especially with key figures of Liberaux present. It is too
perfect and in war you don’t exactly ‘play by the
rule’.”
I finally asked what I had on my mind, “So you believe
there is more to it than that?”
Humming a little Marketa opened and closed her fan as she
thought things through, “There is definitely more
happening than we see. The nature of the spies themselves are
evidence of that.”
I immediately recalled the living flames that were the spies.
I shivered as I also recalled the dream of last night. Pushing
it to the back of my mind, I tried to occupy it with something
else, “Do you have any idea what they were? They did not
seem… human…”
Strangely enough, Marketa’s face only looked grimmer as
she crossed her fingers. She had a serious glint in her eyes as
she looked up at me, “It’s complicated. I have an
idea of what they were, but… Well…”
I suppose she did not want me involved in this either. Marketa
had so many secrets, and I only met her three days ago. Of
course it was impossible for her to reveal information to a
complete stranger, even if they were a fellow tribe member. Even
so, this was not the time for secrets, “I understand your
concern, but this is a matter of utmost importance. If you want
me to carry on being effective, you need to disclose as much
information as you can to me. Not everything of course; the
important things.”
I shifted uncomfortably under Marketa’s scrutinising
gaze. She was contemplating my argument. It seems like I managed
to convince her as she relaxed her posture as she leaned back in
her chair again, “I suppose so. Fine. Listen to what I
have to say and do not interrupt. I will try to keep it short
and without having you committing any… unnecessary
offences.”
Offences against who? Of course I couldn’t ask that as I
nodded in agreement not to question or interrupt Marketa.
“As you may have read in legends of old,” Marketa
began her explanation, “This world was said to have been
created by two entities known as the Overlord and the Deathlord.
The tale is not exactly accurate though. There was a being
higher up than them who created the universe. The original one
anyway.”
I was aware of such legends, albeit confused by the latter
phrasing.
“Below them, they created creatures known as the
Phoenixes and the Lizards,” Marketa carried on,
“They took on two forms – a humanoid one and their
respective name one (a fire bird and amphibian). Humans were,
after all, created based on the humanoid versions which the two
entities preferred. What we want to focus on however is the
beings known as the Phoenixes – the living flames.”
My eyes widened. The spies we met indeed seemed like they were
the flames themselves. Their screech, now that I think back, was
in fact like a bird’s.
“Those spies were not Phoenixes though,” here
Marketa scoffed, “They were cheap imitations of them. A
real Phoenix would not be manipulated by anyone. They are noble
birds who value their freedom above all, until they find a home
to settle at. After that, they stay and protect the home until
death. Although… they are immortal since they are reborn
from their own ashes.”
It was amazing to hear so much information at once. I have
read about the Phoenixes of course. They were creatures of the
oldest myths. The way Marketa spoke of them however was as if
they were real creatures which were around even today.
Noticing my look of anticipation, Marketa let out a sigh,
“You can question now.”
“How can you be sure we are not dealing with real
Phoenixes? I understand what you mean about their nature, but
perhaps they were tamed? Or threatened?” I blurted out.
“They are not wild animals,” Marketa snapped at
me, “But creatures of high intelligence. They are above
humans, after all. You even regard some as deities in different
cultures. Furthermore, they do not die as easily as those
disgusting imitation last night. Yesterday, it seemed as though
they would die just from their flames being extinguished. They
were unable to control them, like they had only one chance to
use that form. Real Phoenixes can alternate between the forms as
they like and certainly do not die if they get wet.”
I nodded in understanding, “So who and how did they
manage to create these imitations?”
Marketa tapped her nails on the table next to her in
irritation, “That is also what I would like to know. This
was my real reason for going on this investigation, truth be
told.”
“What?” I choked out, “So it was not the
disappearances of the Ambassadors? Does Glenton have no regard
for them?”
“Relax, kid,” Marketa waved her hands, “That
was the official reason. Can’t I have my personal reason
too?”
That much was true, yet… Something was not adding up
again. How did Marketa know of these spies having such powers in
the first place? Even when we caught the spy in Glenton, he had
not shown such mutations.
“No, I am not telling you how I knew of these
abominations in the first place,” Marketa’s smile
was hiding something much darker underneath the surface,
“So don’t even bother asking. Now, I believe we are
going to be late for our lunch with Monsieur Mertiere.”
Without another word, Marketa rose and began to walk towards
the door. Opening it, she motioned for me to follow her. There
was no questioning her so I also rose and silently followed her
down the corridor. A servant soon enough found us and led to
where Monsieur Mertiere was waiting for us. The lunch could have
been called a feast with the amount of things available. While
Marketa chattered with Monsieur Mertiere (who was by now wearing
a different, yet similarly ridiculous, suit), I quietly nibbled
on my food, and thinking over what I have learned so far.
The way Marketa had told me about the creatures of myth seemed
like they were all real. If that was so, then came the question
how humans came to have the power of even replicating the powers
of one of the higher beings known as the Phoenixes. If we had
legends, it must have meant that at some point in history those
creatures interacted with humans. Unless the spies that were
sent have been hidden for all this time, which I doubt, it meant
that the humans were in contact with the Phoenixes fairly
recently. How did they manage to imitate the being though?
Through magic? The powers I witnessed were indeed those of the
deities. It was not mortal strength, which explains why the
spies were deemed weak and ‘cheap imitations’ by
Marketa. Did that mean that our enemy had one of the higher
beings on their side?
Yet… humans could access such powers and control them.
The leader of the Amber tribe was the living proof of that. I
still remember how we both ourselves became living flames.
Perhaps that Sun Crystal belonged to a Phoenix once. Or, as
Marketa mentioned the confusion between deities, perhaps the
Amber tribe’s Sun God was just a Phoenix. Either way, it
was possible for a human to harness the power of the deities.
But what was it that enabled Rita to do so? And… I as
well, as I was left unharmed. Was it intellectual capacity? Rita
did not seem like the highly intelligent type, though. Perhaps
she hides it? She couldn’t have become a tribe leader if
she were a simpleton.
#Post#: 10452--------------------------------------------------
Re: Adagio Farce
DIR By: Rita Arthurs
Date: July 14, 2015, 1:44 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
All this thinking was getting me nowhere. There was simply not
enough information. Wild speculations would also do me no good.
With this mind set, we have soon enough arrived to Liberaux. It
took us another two days to travel to the capital – Luxurbe. Yet
trouble was just beginning there as an unexpected turn of events
took place… a series of murders.
#Post#: 10453--------------------------------------------------
Re: Adagio Farce
DIR By: Rita Arthurs
Date: July 14, 2015, 4:00 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
[center]Chapter 4
Proper Conduct[/center]
Liberaux was a peaceful land. The places we have seen on our
way to Luxurbe were beautiful because of their simplicity. The
country folks were a friendly bunch. Yet as typical people of
Liberaux, they were passionate and very expressive. While the
peasants were simple, the nobles were the complete opposite. The
ones we stayed with anyway. They wore extravagant clothes and
were too… ‘touchy-feely’ is the only way I could describe their
greetings. There really was no need to kiss their guests on the
cheeks that often. It made me quite uncomfortable. I admired
Marketa who was able to receive their greetings without making a
face, which I was sure to have made. The people of Liberaux
meant well though. They weren’t bad. Although expressing too
much, at least they were honest. I detected no malice from them.
Was it just the countryside nobles who were like this? According
to Monsieur Mertiere, who had kindly volunteered to keep us
company until we reached Luxurbe, the nobles of the court were
the ferocious. Even more so that those back in Britannia. I
shivered at the thought. Politics really was something I
disliked.
Reaching Luxurbe in the evening took my breath away. It really
did match its given name for the city was full of light. It
almost seemed magical with the amount of illumination the city
shined with. The streets almost seemed like they were still lit
with sunlight. It was that bright. The buildings themselves were
also quite exquisite. Reaching high, they still were the same
height as each other. Decorated in breathtakingly beautiful
designs and columns, it was obvious that the craftsmanship was
of the highest standard. Truly suitable for a capital of these
lands.
Monsieur Mertiere noticed my fascinated gaze as he commented,
“I see you are taking a liking to our city, Ambassador.”
“Yes!” I temporarily forgot my position and answered honestly
like a child, “You have a very beautiful city!”
Clearing her throat, Marketa dragged me by my tailcoat. I fell
back into my seat next to her with a little yelp. Making sure
that Monsieur Mertiere did not notice, she pinched my side.
“Ah, do excuse dear Marin,” Marketa unfolded her fan and waved
it about as a faint laugh sounded, “The child was merely taken
in by the beauty of your capital. Of course, who wouldn’t be?”
Monsieur Mertiere chuckled, “There is no need for flattery,
Mademoiselle. Thank you nonetheless.”
The carriage soon stopped near large golden gates. Behind them
was a large mansion. If my studies were correct, I believe this
was where the Liberaux government offices resided, although the
actual court gathered in the Golden Palace. Here, mostly matters
of finance were handled. No wonder that a merchant of Monsieur
Mertiere’s status would be called here.
“I am afraid I will have to leave you now,” Monsieur Mertiere
stepped outside the carriage and bowed in over exaggeration, “I
have business to attend to. The dear King has called for my
council. I hope to see you soon.”
“Goodbye, Monsieur.” Marketa said before signalling for the
carriage to carry on. Once we had put some distance between our
escort, Marketa told the cabman our destination and took the
seat across from me. I could see why – her large dress took up
most of the seat. She was most likely being considerate of me. I
must admit that I was a bit squashed sitting next to her…
“It is highly likely that the King shall send for us tonight,”
Marketa announced as my mind was wandering, “As Ambassadors from
another country, we must conduct ourselves properly so as not to
cause an offence and misunderstandings between our nations.
Understand?”
I vigorously nodded. Marketa however only sighed at the sight
of me, as if wondering whether I will really be alright. It was
understandable. My so called ‘practice’ at the ball back in
Dubris did not go well or as planned.
“Please, do not worry about me,” I attempted to reassure her,
“I will be fine. I believe that I have learned as much as I
could about the Liberaux politics. Rest assured that I will not
embarrass you tonight.”
Marketa laughed faintly at my response. I was working hard for
the past few days. As she instructed me before, I had taken all
the chances I could to socialise and learn the gossip of
Liberaux. I am sure that she noticed and appreciated my efforts.
At least I hoped so anyway.
“You don’t have to push yourself like that, kid…” Marketa
sighed as she looked outside on the passing streets. Her
expression seemed rather gentle. I was unsure whether it was
just me, or whether Marketa had recently began to warm up to me.
She seemed to trust me after the night at Dubris. Was it because
I saved her? I shook my head to clear it. Of course not, she was
not as simple as that. What was I doing… deluding myself… The
thought however did make me a little happy.
From the corner of my eye, I noticed that Marketa’s attention
was on me. She was smiling a little as she said, “What are you
grinning about like a sly cat?”
Widening my eyes, I covered my face with my hands. Was I
really grinning? How embarrassing…
“Nothing in particular…” I tried to cool my burning face as I
stuck it out the window. The breeze was rather nice.
Marketa followed my actions, “Hmm… I must admit that this was
a good idea, kid. The breeze does help clear the mind.”
Unsure by what she meant, we spent our time like that in
silence until we reached the inn we were going to be staying in
while in Luxurbe. It was of the highest standard, as expected.
All expenses were taken care of by the King as it was him who
invited us.
Just like Marketa predicted, when we arrived, we received a
message of summons to the King’s grand ball tonight. I just
hoped that it would not turn out like the last ball I went to.
It was to be held at the King’s glorious palace of gold,
renowned throughout the lands. The ball was rumoured to include
the top nobles of the lands. It seemed like the King had
something important to announce.
For such an occasion, as soon as we left our luggage bags
behind, Marketa dragged me to the best tailor in Luxurbe. They
were the master of their trade and with their numerous
assistants were able to make us a dress and a suit that were the
currently the peak of fashion at Luxurbe. I did not even wish to
count the amount of gold Marketa parted with as we left in our
new attire to the Golden Palace.
Lifting and examining my large sleeve, I frowned, “Was this
dress up really necessary?”
“We cannot embarrass ourselves in front of the entire
Liberaux!” Marketa herself was trying to get used to her new fan
which was considerably much larger than its predecessor, “This
is the land of fashion after all. Us being foreigners will not
spare us from scrutiny of the local lords.”
My sulking face must have been very evident as Marketa slapped
me with her fan, “Where did your resolve go, Marin? You do know
the punishment for failure, right?”
I shivered as I recalled Marketa’s threat from a few days ago.
As much as I preferred silence, I would still rather keep my
tongue. It was useful from time to time.
“Just like before,” Marketa’s tone softened, “Just follow my
lead. And this time, please try not to get into a battle of wits
with a noble.”
I grumbled something about being on my best behaviour once
again before looking outside at the passing streets. The lights
were a bit dimmer now as it was approaching the time where the
city folk went to bed. And then there were us, heading to a ball
about to begin. Just what kind of joke is this? I wanted my
sleep too… Was this what they referred to as ‘child labour’?
My thoughts were interrupted by the sight of our destination
ahead of us – the Golden Palace. Even from afar, the sight of it
was captivating. True to its name, it shined brightly as if it
was made of pure gold. It was breathtakingly stunning and seemed
almost magical.
The Palace itself was outside the main city of Luxurbe. It was
still within the lands belonging to it, yes, but it was not
quite a part of the city. It was an entity of its own. The King
was weary of having his court held at the capital, as it usually
is in most lands, and so moved it outside the city. The
construction of the Golden Palace took many years, but the
result was obviously worth it.
“I hope I won’t have to pick up your chin like that at the
ball,” Marketa said disapprovingly as she closed my gaping mouth
with her fan by lifting my jaw where it belonged, “I know I have
said this many a time, but seriously! Behave!”
What am I, a dog? I thought bitterly as the carriage stopped
before the entrance. A servant opened the carriage door. I
hopped out and held a hand for Marketa to use as insurance while
getting off with her ridiculously wide dress; the skirts must
have been three times the size of her body.
Closer, the Palace seemed even more amazing than it was from
afar. The gardens surrounding it were a sight to behold and
could have rivalled the magnificence of the Palace itself. I had
seen the plans of the Palace before in my books; it covered a
vast amount of land with mostly its gardens. It was truly a
sight to see.
The servants motioned for us to follow them inside. Thankfully
the language of Liberaux was one of the many training skills I
learned. It was after all the language of diplomacy.
The inside of the Palace was just as bright as it was outside.
The halls shone brightly with gold. It was noisy with the
chatter of the arriving nobles from around the country. The
courtiers of Luxurbe itself lived within the apartments of the
Palace. Well… made it seem like they lived anyway. The
apartments held around one or two rooms, hardly enough space for
a noble, which was why many of them had their houses outside the
Golden Palace. The Palace apartments were merely a sign of their
status and were used to entertain their guests.
As Ambassadors, we were taken to meet the King in a room most
curious – one which was surrounded by mirrors. Mirrors were a
luxury in Liberaux, so having a room made up of them was an
obvious symbol of wealth. In this room, the King held important
ceremonies and met up with very important guests. Today we were
the important guests as we were Ambassadors from neighbouring
lands.
Knowing about the room was one thing, but entering and seeing
all the mirrors was another. The room seemed to have multiplied
infinitely. The gold was not spared even here as it covered
everything from the floor to the ceiling and its chandeliers.
The King stood in all his glory at the centre of the room,
surrounded by his courtiers.
“Mademoiselle Marketa!” the King seemed strangely delighted
when he saw us enter, “Welcome to Liberaux and Luxurbe! I hope
it is to your liking.”
Marketa curtsied so deeply that I thought she was about to sit
down on the floor. I followed her suit and bowed just as low.
“Your Majesty, it is a pleasure to be in your presence,”
Marketa purred, “As it is to be welcomed in such wonderful
lands. Truly the people of Liberaux are as gracious and noble as
I have heard.”
The King seemed pleased with the praise as he motioned for
Marketa to join his side. I hurriedly took my place a step
behind Marketa and followed them throughout the halls.
“What would you like to see of my Palace, dearest
Mademoiselle?” it seemed almost odd how the King was seeking to
please Marketa, “We have many things for your entertainment.
There is the ballroom, the opera house…”
As the King carried on to list off the things available, my
suspicions only grew. Why would a King go to such extents as to
entertain a guest? This was unheard of. I doubt that an alliance
with Glenton was worth such humiliation. Was it Marketa’s own
powers he sought to use? Magic was sparse outside of Glenton,
let alone Britannia. No doubt rumours of Marketa’s vast amount
of power have reached even lands outside Britannia.
“Your Majesty, I am indeed intrigued by all you have to
offer,” Marketa was still trying to adjust the distance at which
she held her new large fan, “But perhaps it would be wiser to
get down to business and discuss the important matters you have
mentioned in your message?”
Message? I schooled my face into neutrality despite my
surprise. Marketa was in contact with the King of Liberaux? No
wonder they acted familiar, as if they were good old friends.
Such familiarity was admirable, yet I could not help but feel
suspicion creep in. Just what was Marketa hiding? What was this
so called business? Was it the disappearance of the Ambassadors?
Knowing her, it could have been anything, which was the most
worrying part of this situation.
#Post#: 10455--------------------------------------------------
Re: Adagio Farce
DIR By: Rita Arthurs
Date: July 16, 2015, 6:04 pm
---------------------------------------------------------
As we walked through the halls, I let my eyes wander a bit as
they were finely decorated. It truly was a sight to behold with
the gold being spared pretty much nowhere. The courtiers around
Marketa and the King were beginning to disperse as we began to
enter into the deeper chambers of the Palace. Finally, when
there was no one around, Marketa turned to me almost as an
afterthought.
“Ah, Marin… Would you mind going and playing somewhere else
for now? I have important matters to discuss.” she made a
shooing motion with her hands as she followed the King into the
room which had a large table in it (which I presumed was used
for negotiations). She shut the door straight away without
hearing my answer. And so I stood the flabbergasted for a solid
five minutes before I clenched my hands into fists in anger. How
dare she treat me like some child? I was the Ambassador, after
all! Sure, I did not want this job but it was given to me
nonetheless! She can’t just throw me away like that!
Grumbling, I stormed off down the corridors. I was unsure
about the structure of the Palace, so I became lost in no time.
The nobles and courtiers alike were randomly strolling by.
Perhaps this was actually good that I was on my own. I could
start to investigate the disappearances of my predecessors since
Marketa did not seem inclined to do that. It seems that she was
more wrapped up in her own selfish business.
I paused. What was I feeling angry over? Why was I jumping to
these wild accusations? Perhaps she had important business to
discuss with the King, and I was not allowed since he did not
trust me. There was no logic behind my angry thoughts. I need to
calm down a little.
Taking my chance with the first passing servant, I called out,
“Excuse me?”
My Liberauxi was not perfect, but I had enough confidence to
at least follow and start a conversation. The servant stopped
what he was doing and bowed to me as he said, “Is there
something you need, Mademoiselle?”
What’s with the ‘Mademoiselle’? Was it my face? Do people just
tend to ignore my suit on purpose or something? I’m a man, for
goodness sake…
Pushing my irritation aside, I got down to business, “Do you
often get Ambassadors from Glenton?”
The servant seemed to know what I was talking about, “Glenton,
yes. There are so many of you coming over! And every time a
different face!”
So this situation about the different Ambassadors had been
noticed. A servant was unlikely to know about the Ambassadors
much. Someone who was working in the field of Foreign Affairs of
Liberaux would be more helpful. Since many nobles were gathered
here, perhaps the person I was about to look for was here too.
“By any chance, are you aware of where Monsieur Carlemonde?” I
enquired.
Monsieur Carlemonde would be the best candidate. He was the
current Liberaux head of Foreign Affairs. If he was unaware of
the situation… I would begin to doubt the competency of the
Liberaux government. Being a high official, he would also have
apartments in the Golden Palace, meaning the servant should know
who I am talking about. The servant I chose to ask seemed to
have been in his forties, meaning he should be experienced in
his job and know his way around (unless for some reason he had
recently changed masters, which was unlikely when serving the
King of Liberaux).
The servant was aware of who I was talking about and mentioned
that Monsieur Carlemonde was in his chambers as usual. It took a
while to get there since I had to keep asking for directions,
but eventually I stood in front of large double doors. I made
sure to knock bravely, yet gently so as not to seem rude.
Silence followed for a while. Perhaps Monsieur Carlemonde was
not in? Cursing my luck, I began to go and search for him among
the guests. It was no easy task as I had no idea what he looked
like. To add to that, the guests kept trying to acquaint
themselves with me. Being invited to this sort of grandiose
event must have meant that you were of high importance. It was a
chance to create alliances. No doubt they believed I was also
some sort of a high official.
“Enjoying your evening, I presume?” one noble asked. There was
no dodging the conversation without seeming rude. I had to
retain the good relations and so tried to smile as best as I
could.
“Indeed, it is a fine evening,” I replied. The noble extended
his hand to shake.
“Raoul Seinlonté,” the noble introduced himself, “Pleased to
make your acquaintance.”
Seinlonté. One of the most powerful and influential families
of Liberaux. They are distant relatives of the royal house of
Liberaux and so were in possession of many holdings. Raoul
Seinlonté was the current head of the family and the ruling
Count of Coire, the central region of Liberaux and the second
most powerful after the capital’s Luxurbe region. In other
words, he was a very, very important man in Liberaux politics,
and I better not mess up this encounter.
“Marin,” I introduced myself similarly, “Ambassador of
Glenton.”
Monsieur Seinlonté’s eyes widened in recognition of my title
slightly before a smile spreading across his lips, “Ah, so you
are Foreign Ambassador, and from the infamous Glenton too! Tales
of your village have reached even Liberaux. Our King is quite
fond of your people.”
So I have noticed. Yet what was it about us which made our
village thought of in such high regard? Perhaps this was a
chance to find out the things which have been bothering me, “I
am flattered. Although I doubt that we can even compare to the
magnanimous people of Liberaux, especially of Luxurbe and
Coire.”
Monsieur Seinlonté let out a chuckle. He seemed pleased that I
had recognised his importance, “The King is never wrong, so
there must really be something that he sees in you. Not everyone
is favoured in such a way.”
In other words – not everyone was of the same opinion as the
King. It was understandable. Seeking such close ties with a
small village in a foreign country was bound to have kindled
some jealousy among the court. The question was – on whose side
was the Count?
Seeming to detect my slight unease, the Count patted me on the
shoulder, “Rest assured that I have no ill will against your
people. I am always in favour of new friendships, especially in
times such as these.”
It was true that Liberaux was currently in active search of
allies. The relations with the Almannian Empire were not the
best and their land disputes were known to all. As the two
neighbours and currently reigning powers of Europa, there was
bound to be conflict. Trouble for Liberaux was the fact that it
was half the size of the Almannian Empire. Relying on allies all
this time has been its life support. Yet recently relations with
allies have not been going well. Britannia and Liberaux were
never on particularly good terms, yet recently the grip on the
alliance was slipping. This was after all why so many large
trade deal attempts have been made recently and invitations
sent. Liberaux was desperate for allies as Almannian Empire kept
expanding dangerously close to the borders.
“That is good to hear,” I nodded as I tried to get this
conversation to a close, “I hope for our relations to continue
stretching into the future. Good evening.”
“Good evening.” the Count slightly bowed and walked away to
chat to some other guests.
The Count did not seem to be aware of the reasons behind the
King’s eagerness to form an alliance with Glenton. His manner of
speech was evidence of that. Despite his reassurances, I was
also sceptical to what extent the Count was in favour of the
King’s decision. The influence of Coire had been waning in
recent years as Liberaux was reformed and centralised. The King
was harder to influence as his power grew. The Counts were not
as powerful as they used to be. This would have been
particularly concerning to the once most influential Seinlonté
family. The political arena’s rules were changing and adapting
was harder than at first thought. Being the central region, the
Coire region had not profited in the least with the alliances,
unlike the regions on the borders of Liberaux.
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