"Krajan is a legend. You know not what you saw. There's never been proof of his existence." Huron shook his head rapidly from side to side. "Other than the fact that I, among others, have seen him with my own eyes?"
"That means nothing to me unless I see him." Auren stood and began to pace the room, stopping at the lintel and placing both of his hands on it.
"He said you would respond in such a fashion. He's the real thing. He knows the lore, speaks with reason, and promises to help my people."
"Then why do you need my help?" Auren pushed himself upward, his brow furrowed as he took a step back towards his chair. "My lord, he's shown me signs as in the old prophecies." A hand gripped his shoulder and Akalian spun to meet his friend's now burning eyes. He's delusional. Just like the rest of them were when they left.
"Man-made nonsense." Auren chuckled, sliding back down into his chair and leaving Huron standing in front of him with his hand outward. "What did he show you? The breaking apart of every third peak at World's End down the center? Flying? Walking on water? Creating something out of air?"
"Don't get crazy on me, friend," Huron blew out a bit of air and gave a half-smile, still standing, but taking a step backward towards his seat. "It was nothing like that. Those things will always be tales and nothing more. In truth, meeting him was...underwhelming. It was simpler than the stories say such an event would be. He took me to the Codalin'Naal."
The King laughed with a force that seemed to shake the very walls around them. "Nonsense, that's a myth. How am I supposed to believe anything you say at this juncture?"
Huron raised an eyebrow, then ran a hand over his eyes before answering. "He said you'd react like this. He also said he'd take you there soon." The old flame's taking him over again.
Dangerous.
"Perhaps he will and perhaps I'll become a believer then," Auren shrugged, sliding downward in his seat until he slouched considerably and silence fell over the room once again until he raised his goblet to Huron, who followed suit. After they each took a draught, they passed the time speaking of anything and everything they'd ever experienced together, up until the room became almost pitch black except for the firelight.
"I can have you shown to your chambers before I turn in," Auren stood and shouted, "Janyr!" The young housemaster nearly tumbled through the door, sweating and running a hand through his mop of shockingly blonde hair as he began to speak. "My lords, there is a man, claiming to, claiming.." His mouth snapped shut and he merely pointed to the hallway.
"Let me guess, claiming to be Krajan Demonsbane?" Auren threw both of his hands out before him.
Janyr's eyes looked ready to pop out of his skull but his mouth stayed locked tight.
"Huron has already informed me he'd be here. Please have the servants send the man up to us, or perhaps he can fly to me on his dragon." The King rolled his eyes twice as he spoke, then waved furiously at the door when Janyr neglected to move.
"Right away my lord," Janyr bowed quickly, turned, and bumped into a figure in the doorway. "You, you, you," Janyr's teeth were chattering and he crawled back to a corner of the room, sinking to a crouch as if he'd lost all of his strength at once.
"Excellent that you're still conscious, Auren Akalian," the figure said coolly.
"Who are you? And why do you address me by name and not as your lord?" It has to be him. He felt as if cool water were running down his back and shivered. I won't give him the satisfaction. Not yet.
"Because you're not my lord, and yet... I know you." The figure threw back his dark blue hood, revealing the smooth, aquiline visage of a man of indeterminable age, save for his salt and pepper-colored hair. "This fire is pleasant." He seemed to simply materialize in front of the fireplace and Akalian spluttered. "Are you claiming to be Krajan Demonsbane?"
"I claim nothing. I am who I am." The man gave a short flourish with both arms, keeping an altogether passive tone of voice.
"Respectfully, I don't know how I am supposed to believe you, given the grandiosity of such an idea. Krajan Demonsbane, if he was ever real, was a god." The King spoke in a rush, pacing the room as if he were awaiting his sentencing in a court of law. "Do you expect me to believe you solely upon your word?" He found he was shouting, then cleared his throat, and lowered his voice with considerable effort. "What proof do you have?"
"He will show you," Huron put in.
"What are you, his thrall?" Seething now, Akalian stood, but with a glance towards his young friend's gaping visage, he put up both hands in a show of apology.
"The curtain should have risen by now." The mysterious man produced a dark chestnut wooden cylinder from his robes and expanded it out into a staff, which he then rapped on the ground. At first, nothing happened, but in a delayed fashion, a resounding crash filled the room and Auren saw stars above him.
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