There was only annoyance in the king’s eyes, Alcvin knew. Though his brother sat elegantly upon the golden throne while encircled by the tensed liege house representatives, the High Adjunct had already surmised the final outcome of the session. They all sat as the criminal stood at his pedestal. Worn on the stone floor were the old Etharini alphabets, drafted to detect lies and cancel eth. In front of each representative was a table masonry, individually roughen to form their stubs at its podium while draped atop were their colors. Arleous, calm with his demeanor, was already shedding. Alcvin then raised his ogle at the giant statue of Thravadin above the king, not even bothered as the court reporter continued listing the accusations.
“- of Malevolence upon the crown prince. Guilty of conjoining with the Tarmorein Votaries. Guilty of Quantum Corruption. Guilty of Eth Dereliction. Guilty of abuse of Corps Faculty -”
It was a magnificent piece. Smooth chiseled and polished marble, it stood in feet raised from the tribunal, a symbol of the goddess’ grace always watching the court proceedings. Enthah’s phases were all depicted in grandiose beauty, and Chustern will always covet her majesty. Not one to settle on physical appearances, Alcvin grinned at the sight of Thravadin. Shrouded with a mantlepiece, Enthah’s glamor was protected. Like its people, Chustern hid their women but not with divine right. Floating mystically adrift the goddess’ hands, the two balls of power were of Thradin, death, the right hand, and Thrava, life, the left. Lastly, four parallel wings then gave Thravadin flight, each symbolizing the now four kingdoms of Chustern.
“Do you deny these charges, High Adjunct?” asked finally the king, his voice covered in subtle indignation.
When the chance to speak was apparent, retreating to the judge’s glare, Alcvin replied, “may you have given me the time to prepare, I would have responded to a yes, my king.”
“He has a point, your grace. In the dead of night must we do this?” Lord Parcel interjected, his recurring yawns were now gnawing at the other representatives’ patience.
“You better close your whale hole, Worleyoine. That man had harmed my grandson and I will not wait till morning to see his body poked by carrion birds!” Sodson stood flustered, his threadbare clothing and swollen eyes were very distinct under the cold eth lights.
“And what evidence will suffice, old man?” Yatan replied. He was wearing his sleeping attire, serenely irritated. “If his grace really said it was an illness and not injury, I believe the prince’s seclusion was enough to say it.”
Although dejected, Sodson still erected his back and stared at the other liege houses of the behest of the other accusations. Lord Karkoly rolled his eyes and huffed before contributing, “corruption, misuse of eth, and abuse of manpower is not arguable to be the simplest jest one can think of, lord.” Gaudy and airy, Karkoly was heard soft-spoken and his manner within court was breaking many of their usual norm of behaviors.
“So it was a jest then Stoopey? I did not know the court learned humor. I thought it was always banter. Say your jokes of crimes again and no money for your debts will be begging on your loincloths further,” advised, Julio.
“At least I bed humans, not a mountain,” retorted Karkoly.
Immediately erupting, Julio kicked his heavy seat away while light blue eth burst from his hands. Its stream of arcane forming into a bow and arrow, the furious lord knocking it ready to shoot. “I will not have the grand lady be insulted in front of me!”
The other representatives were now taking cover. Karkoly, shaking, was already ready to faint. Alcvin cheered silently. Close to a yeti, Toronnin eths were monstrous compared to the power of those in the southern kingdoms. But no matter how strong emotions influence the structure of their magic, it is never enough to falter divine law. Calmly, both Arleous and Alcvin expected the slow loss of the eth-randor upon Julio’s agitation. The weapon, finally gone, the Toronnin then bore a hole on Karkoly’s powdered face before promptly leaving the courtroom. The number of the assembly abling to breathe.
Not moments later, Corasay drew out the last of the issue of the session, “and what of your allegiances to the Tarmorein, High Adjunct? You who have solely invited the worshipper to your very own celebration, and needless to say, have almost cost the lives of our Acolyte and other dignitaries, would not support you guilty? Cludhern will not risk another Faharian War in the midst of rehabilitation after what wiped out many of our Fae Folk.” When she finished Alcvin, the lady then turned to her king, flowing black hair brightening her impatience. “And your grace. If you think my nephew is not safe here, send him to us. House Cloud will always have a home for its prince.”
“And what makes you think yours is safe? You were after all the first to have fallen to that sickness,” commented an older gentleman for Moroun. “Besides, rumors say you may be harboring the monsters them-”
The king’s hand was enough to silence the growing tension. Brimming with the last of his grace, Arleous again reached out to ask his brother. “Do you deny these charges, Alcvin Yomnd Chonerin? Your word will settle this for your service to the realm and its history has its preface. The Chrav Alliance denies these as well.”
“I deny it. My eth is to the kingdom, and my life is for Thravadin.”
When no divine law insinuated falsehood, Alcvin watched as Sodson slammed his fist on his table. But contrary to Toronnin eth, the old lord could never scratch a stone. Tousled and undone, many of the Cheron’s court members were left that night despondent and unsatisfied. Others were slightly content. It’s king, tired.
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“What are fae, mistress?” Alve asked suddenly as she stopped to consider the familiar rucs on her parchment. Following a guided pattern, Alve was already improving in the new style of learning the Thravbon alphabet. She did not bother to tell her aunt however how she came to hear the word for many sad things have happened whenever it was uttered.
“Fae? The Fae Folk?” Dasia paused at the new dots she was writing down. Just right beside her, the lady could see the princess’ green eyes curiously outlining her tiny vigor. “Well, we can always use a well-familiar example.”
“There is something I know?”
“You could say it is not entirely fae…” when the lady could only see the forgotten work on the princess’ desk, she shortly accepted that there was nowhere to escape it any longer. Sighing, Dasia continued, “I think you heard of Chrovo?”
“Chrovo? Who’s that?”
Mistake lingered in Dasia’s mind. “Chrovo is… Chrovo is a snake fae beast, you see…” the lady stuttered.
Alve replied softly, “snake?” The princess was growing to hate such creatures.
“Uhh… your father had one and it passed away.”
“Oh. He did?”
“Yes!” Dasia affirmed confidently. “Because… he was… - inspired by our letters!” The lady was now rapidly arranging the dotted letters to dry on their table as she continued, “because Thravbon looks like snakes, see?” Dasia pointed at the slithering lines, apparently that were the forgotten rucs on Alve’s paper.
“But I’m tired. I know I can write them now even they are bad,” the princess begged. The cold early breeze was burrowing throughout Chustern. Many of Oria’s circles had repeated themselves since the teacher and student had started the endeavor. The people, though still wearing blue, were now in longer sleeves and thicker covers. Alve as well had to endure a more burly dress of twill.
“Go on.” Unaffected by the serenade, Dasia urged the princess further. “You still have to learn etiquette, and how you shouldn’t slouch. Plus…” the lady listed as she stood to collect more books from the shelves, Alve hoping they were not about the proper use of spoons and forks again.
Placid, she ignored her letters and sent her gaze outside the terrace. Far from her spectacle, the familiar cold wind roared stronger as the echoes of the city’s laughter and calls sang with it. And though it was the littlest freedom she was promised to, the princess daydreamed of it to now come.
Volume 1: End
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