Royal Speech

The guard had escorted me once more, as solemnly as ever, stopping only to allow those of a more senior position to pass by in the hallway. We arrived at the great hall where we passed through the heavy wooden doors, standing tall and open to reveal the majesty of the great hall. The royal guard released his hand from my shoulder that he had been holding to keep me close as he escorted me; allowing me to move free, he then took his position amongst the other royal guards in the vast chamber, standing to attention amongst the walls as their gaze scoured the room for any hint of danger.

The room in question is a vast and majestic space, towering pillars of polished marble stretch upwards to the lofty ceiling, seemingly supporting the very weight of the heavens themselves. The air is thick with the scent of burning beeswax, the soft glow of crystals mounted to the wall casting long shadows that shift with each movement of the crowd. The walls are adorned with the same tapestries seen throughout the rest of the citadel, depicting scenes of battles and triumphs, though the detail in these seem to be far superior to the others. The ceiling, too, is a work of art, painted with intricate patterns of stars and constellations that seem to twinkle in the sky, the stars of the goddesses replaced by great diamonds that sparkle in the light. The floor is a mosaic of coloured tiles, arranged in a complex pattern that seem to tell a story, hidden by the crowd of people that stand upon it. Sat at the centre of the great hall beneath a shimmering stretch of stained glass with moonlight shining through is a grand throne, carved from the finest wood, studded with jewels, and patterned with gold inlay, to its side is a smaller throne though the size has no affect on the grand bearing it commands. Every detail of the hall has been crafted with the utmost care and attention, from gleaming chandeliers hanging like crystal raindrops from the ceiling to the intricate carvings upon the pillars and walls. It seems that the deeper into this city one steps, the greater its majesty shines and here at the very centre, it blinds.

The room is filled with the clamour of sounds as people speak to each other, discussing their spirits, their abilities, their vanity for what the future holds for them. As my gaze drifts across the mass of people they rest on Korin, standing with Sara and Rayall to the side of the room; my legs began to move towards them, unsure of how I will explain what happened.

As their eyes catch sight of me walking towards them, a relieved expression moves over their faces and their voices silence. “Aucus lad, it’s good to see ya” the dwarf says as he steps forward, “ya know, I think I’ll have to get some of that water for me-self. Even my dwarven spirits didn’t knock ya out like that” he says, chuckling a little at his own joke but quieting when he sees the look that the others are giving him, “or maybe not, eh” he finishes more quietly

“No, it’s alright. I spoke with Calendis just now, we don’t really know what happened. He said it might have been my nerves reacting with the spirit bond, but he’ll check some more to make sure it’s nothing to worry about” I feel uncomfortable lying to these people but remember what Calendis said about not telling anyone anything about the dark spirit.

Rayall raises and eyebrow at that explanation, “I’ve never heard such a painful scream from nerves” he says bluntly, making my face redden that he saw through the lie so easily

“Yeah, I didn’t buy that explanation much either. Hopefully he’ll find something else that will explain it” I say with a shrug, trying to brush off the topic

“Come on, I don’t think Aucus wants to be thinking about that right now. We’ve just got our spirits, let’s be excited” Sara says, her nature spirit sprawling around her neck, flowers budding across it as Sara gives a splitting smile at the sight.

Korin nods his head, “Ay, that’ll be a good idea. Nice place they got here, not as nice as the mountains but I suppose ya have to settle for what ya can get” he says, looking around the magnificent hall.

I chuckle a little as his opinion, “I don’t know Korin, I’ve never been to the mountains, but I doubt it can get much better than this” I say, receiving a long explanation of how the mountains a superior to the human kingdom in response

Something in the great hall catches my eye, a large crowd of people are gathering around someone, clearly trying to get close to whoever it is. Moving my neck and looking closer, I recognise Kira again, and is that, Clen? I think as I see the tall muscular tuff from my village. As my eyes move over the people from my village they recognise another familiar face, one I had hoped not to see again. Zarin. The dark-haired youth is standing smugly as people clamour around him, his pearl white clothing and cloak making him distinct from the rest of the crowd; at his side is the spirit of a lion, his neck bared in submission to the one he is bonded with. So he’s the one that bonded the lion spirit, of all people… I think to myself, my stomach turning as I look at the person who beat me to near death.

My heart skips several beats, and my breath catches in my throat as I recognise another person, the fiery red hair, and the emerald eyes of the girl I thought I would never see again, Elsie. She seems to have hardly changed since I saw her last, though she bears the dark marking of a tattoo on her wrist and a tight-fitting necklace clutching tight to her throat. I can’t help but think that it looks strange on her, it never seemed like her style before, but she seems to be wearing it well. She stands close to Zarin, his eyes occasionally drifting to her as he pleasures the crowd before him with his presence.

Unable to believe that Elsie is actually here, that I finally have the chance to explain what happened, I open my mouth, but nothing comes out. I make my way over to her, to talk with her and to see her once more. Before I can move a step in her direction, a stream of guards flood into the room, parting the crowd to the sides, making room all the way to the great throne standing at the end of the hall. With everyone parted, two figures begin to step along the mosaic tiles.

The shorter of the two is a young woman, several years older than myself, perhaps in her late twenties. She has a beautiful face with long hair of a deep brown that curls slightly at the ends, she wears it tied loosely and flowing down her back as she walks. She wears the most exquisite dress I had ever seen, far more expensive looking than any I had seen Opal wear, it has gems stitched into the silk, glimmering from the light in the room and shimmering across the patterns stitched into it. The material is hardly as revealing as what Opal would wear, though it fits tightly to her slim waist and accentuates her bosom. Atop her head rests the golden shape of a crown, encrusted with jewels and featuring an upward lancing sword at the centre. At her side is a slightly younger man with the same brown hair and handsome features, though he is slightly plumper than his counterpart, he does not seem to be in poor shape. His clothing is similarly expensive, wearing a rich tunic matching the bright colours of the woman to his side. He also wears a crown of gold atop his temple, though his is smaller, a simple circlet with only the occasional precious stone planted into the metal.

The two figures glide across the floor, the woman holding onto the man’s arm as he holds it outstretched for her. Silence falls across the hall as they enter and begin to move forwards, all eyes fixed on them until they ascend the steps beneath the stained glass of the windows and take their seats on the thrones. The woman claiming the larger seat and the man taking the smaller.

The two of them wait in silence for a moment as their gazes move across the newly made adventurers before them. So much power present in the room, and all of it held captivated by these two. I think I see something moving in the shadow of the throne but when I look again there is nothing there, at last the woman opens her mouth

“Adventurers!” she exclaims, “Disciples of Soras, Tallaque, and Cleonora. I am Queen Celeste, and this is my brother Prince Orsat” she states, gesturing with an open palm to the man at her side, “It is our honour and our pleasure to welcome you all to the Royal Citadel of Alynthir. Within these walls, over the next few weeks, you will be tried, and you will be tested. It will be difficult but under the guidance of your talented masters and trainers, you will be forged from simple spirit-bonds into true adventurers. You will be placed into groups, parties if you will, of disciples of all three goddesses and be given the opportunity to learn from one another and forge lasting alliances.” The woman pauses for a moment and takes a sip from a goblet that a young servant rushes to offer her. “Yes, these are exciting times indeed. If you take your training seriously and put your all into it, then I daresay that there are no limits to what you may accomplish in your futures.” She stops and people begin to whisper, thinking that her speech has finished. They all fall silent the moment her mouth shifts again, “I would also like to congratulate our new bond of the lion spirit, I have no doubt you will accomplish feats worthy of legend” she says, nodding towards Zarin who stands there with that charming smile of his plastered across his features, “And of course, as the Queen of this great kingdom I extend a hand of friendship towards all adventurers. I trust that we will remember one another in our hours of need” she finishes her speech and accepts another chalice from the servant.

She sits there in silence, watching the crowd again as she drinks, before finishing the cup. She rises from her seat and her brother follows her, holding out his arm for her to hold once again. As they reach the impressive wooden doors, the younger man turns to address the crowd “I hope that you all enjoy the feast tonight, you will receive the groups that you will be forming later this evening. Good luck” he says, smiling a little at the end. His smile is as charming as Zarin’s, though it seems far more honest than the black-haired boy’s. The doors close behind them.