Cyprain couldn't move a muscle. He was seized by shivers induced by the voice that had just whispered inches from his ear: the voice of the individual who, with a simple gesture, had just quelled his most violent inner demons.
Enough. His short but emphatic command continued to reverberate in his thoughts.
“Look!”
“It's Man At Axes!”
The crowd murmured in perplexity, pointing at the legendary Holy Warrior whose presence Cyprain had ignored until his intervention.
“Urmpf.” He emitted a faint growl, tense at the number of people using that nickname he detested. I'll never understand how that idiocy of Renardin caught on so much… He thought, wishing that his author and best friend, the very king of his realm, had never conceived it.
Several soldiers from the crowd entered the arena and lined up in front of him.
“General!” They greeted him with a vigorous military salute.
Mavros was dazzled by what was happening.
General? He wondered. He shifted his gaze in different directions. Do... do they call him 'Ser ‘Man At Axes’'? Just like the General, the wandering knight couldn't help but catch that nickname being pronounced by those present. His perceptive nature made him even more curious about the identity behind it.
Chatel Chatel… Jabir, Ayman, and his son Sheida recognized him, with faces reflecting a bittersweet reception. Directly and indirectly, they had crossed paths with his figure in the past.
'Man At Axes'?... What... what is my uncle doing here? Luciara wondered, quite intrigued. He was her uncle-in-law, but despite the ties he had with her family, years had passed without seeing him in person. His physical appearance hadn't changed much since then.
Accompanying the soldiers who maintained their salute, Docemin did her best to disguise her distress. She knew her superior wasn't there to congratulate them. The Subliutenant barely managed to keep her pale hands from trembling as she noticed the General's stern eyes settling on her before moving on to inspect the other troops in formation. Satisfied with their order, Chatel Chatel nodded lightly at them, indicating that they could lower their hands. Then, he released Cyprain's wrist.
The Lieutenant swallowed hard. Although he felt a great relief from the pressure that had been exerted on him, he remained immobilized by fear. Finally, he mustered up the courage, turning around to face him.
He inclined his body forward in a gesture of submission.
"General…" He said with embarrassment and lifted the visor of his helmet in a military salute, following the same protocol as the others.
Just as he had done with them, Chatel Chatel signaled that he could finish it with a gesture. He gently removed his helmet, and after doing so...
SMACK!
Docemin and the rest of the soldiers held their breath. The General had just delivered a resounding slap.
Stunned and intimidated, Cyprain merely lowered his head without uttering a single word.
Chatel Chatel straightened up toward the Ayarian merchants. He walked towards them, passing by Mavros. "Are you the merchants whose goods were confiscated?" he questioned, coming to a halt a few steps away.
The three nodded in silence.
"Your permits, please."
They proceeded to take them from their luggage to hand them over. The General collected each of their permits and examined them rigorously.
Ayman Riaz, Jabir Mustafed... I remember these names, Chatel Chatel noted as he read them on their identifications. He cast a brief but suspicious glance at both of them. These men weren't always wandering merchants.
In the end, and despite this discovery, the General returned their papers without objections.
"All three are valid," he informed them solemnly. "Now, show me your merchandise."
With the same reluctance they had shown when demanded by his subordinates, each one opened their backpacks to show him the products they carried.
They're all ordinary jewels and crafts, Chatel Chatel confirmed upon examining them, which made him chuckle under his breath. Banks only keep coins. Even for inventing lies, those three have no subtlety.
The Ayarians furrowed their brows. What's so amusing? They wondered, wary of his laughter.
But soon, the General stopped and regained his seriousness.
"Everything is in order, thank you for your cooperation," he informed them. "I regret that you had to endure this embarrassment. I will take immediate action."
They sighed with that verdict, but none held illusions about that last promise.
"Thank you..." Ayman replied with a forced tone, denoting his reluctance to accept his help.
Having verified what he wanted, Chatel Chatel turned quickly and left them.
This “Man At Axes” is a Grianzan Holy Warrior like those three, Mavros thought, watching the stern officer pass by him once again. The colors and motifs of his uniform made it more than evident. But despite his appearance, he speaks the Common Tongue fluently, and his attitude befits his position... What a difference.
The General returned to his subordinates.
"Sublieutenant Docemin Batrand, Lieutenant Cyprain Cotores," he called the two, still using the Common Tongue once more. He wanted everyone, Grianzan or not, to understand what he would say next. "Come here."
Both obeyed without a word, stopping at a spot pointed by him.
"You are detained for the crimes of false accusation, extortion, disturbance of civil order, and misuse of Nefeshic Arts," Chatel Chatel announced loudly. He turned to a group of soldiers. "Lock them up in the dungeons of this station."
Stunned, Docemin and Cyprain watched as the soldiers who were once under their command cornered them to carry out the General's order.
"Neu pe paú nou fá sá!"
"General!"
Both pleaded in their language, in a desperate attempt to make him reconsider.
But it was futile; they couldn't disturb him.
"Be patient. I'll make sure you have your court-martial sooner rather than later," the General responded as they were escorted away.
Some soldiers tried to grab and force them, but both refused, pushing them aside roughly, resigning themselves to walk toward their confinement willingly. When they were far enough, they threw fleeting but venomous glances over their shoulders at their superior, venting all their resentment for their punishment.
"Lieutenant Renel Cotores is also under arrest," Chatel Chatel told other soldiers who were now free. "Keep an eye on him in the infirmary. As soon as he has recovered, reunite him with his cellmates," he ordered. He looked at the remaining subordinates who still needed instructions. "The rest of you, return to your usual guard duties."
Everyone complied, bidding farewell with a short military salute before heading to their assigned destinations.
I'll think of a way to reward him, the General promised himself, watching the soldier who had informed him of the situation leaving with the infirmary group.
However, his smiling lips soon closed into a serious expression.
But I have to be cautious. If they find out he had something to do with it, those scoundrels will take it out on him. His satisfaction in enforcing the weight of the law landed abruptly as he faced the reality. Despite his significant authority in the kingdom as a veteran general and the strong case against his former students, he couldn't claim victory just yet.
Chatel Chatel turned around, facing Mavros. The image of the wandering knight staring at him made him momentarily set aside his concerns. Eager to get to know him since he observed him in battle, he approached to engage him.
He's going to interrogate him. The Ayarian merchants and Luciara quickly deduced his intentions, arousing their suspicion.
The young woman discreetly moved closer to the two.
"Until recently, those officers were my students," the General told the knight. "Even their time at the university didn't prevent them from tarnishing the reputation of the Holy Warriors with these disastrous acts. My apologies for having to deal with their recklessness."
Mavros shook his head. "’No matter how hard thou try to fill it, a jug with holes shall ever empty its contents,’" he recited. "I know thee not well, Ser, but I would venture to suggest that the blame lies more in the attitude of thy former apprentices than in their training."
Those eloquent words made the General smile. Given the knight's calm and natural delivery, he sensed that he had no idea of who he was talking to, but Chatel Chatel was far from displeased by his ignorance.
"To be honest, when I heard about what was happening here, I thought you were just as irresponsible as they were. But I was wrong; you knew perfectly well what you were doing. Just for that, you won't be joining them in the dungeons," the General said. It was a veiled warning about the knight’s daring actions, which skirted the edges of the law the officer was supposed to uphold.
Chatel Chatel extended his right hand, open in a friendly gesture. Mavros gladly accepted his handshake.
"Ser Chatel Chatel."
"Ser Mavros of Havenfalls."
Suddenly, Mavros let go of the handshake somewhat awkwardly.
Damn. His blood ran cold as he realized the mistake he had just made.
"I beg your pardon?" The General asked, raising an eyebrow.
Luciara positioned herself beside the knight, redirecting Chatel Chatel's attention toward her.
"Ser Marlon of Amberfalls," she said, "correcting" Mavros. She made a slight bow to the general before continuing, "He is my escort."
"Oh…" The general muttered. He fell silent; the girl's face seemed very familiar, but try as he might, he couldn't identify her. The last time he had seen her, she had been a child.
Suddenly, he and the others turned, alerted by a series of strong and hurried steps approaching them. The author, a young man, quickly made his appearance, stopping among the remaining onlookers. He turned his head from side to side, surveying the surroundings.
What a shame, it's already over.
He clicked his tongue, a bit disappointed at arriving too late, finding no trace of the action he had so eagerly anticipated.
His eyes met the general's.
"Pér!" the young man exclaimed in Grianzan upon spotting him. He rushed over. "General Chatel Chatel!" He quickly corrected his mistake, saving himself from one of the General’s rebukes.
"Gabran? Why are you here?" The General asked in the same language and accent, more puzzled than angry at his presence. "Shouldn't you be still 'rehearsing'?"
"I decided to leave the 'rehearsal' for the afternoon, as we originally agreed. I couldn't resist the urge to come investigate the commotion," Gabran replied with a playful smile that soon twisted into a curve of slight disappointment. "But it seems I came in vain. If you're here, it means you've already got it under control... Uh?"
The actor fell silent, spotting the knight, who was attentive to the conversation between father and son.
A knight? Gabran wondered, admiring his bearing and armor just as his father had the first time he saw him. He doesn't look like a Holy Warrior from the House of Lis. Then… He blinked in disbelief. He struggled to convince himself that this character was here with them, not lying in a hospital bed after a humiliating beating. Impossible! Is this the one that soldier was talking about?
However, his perplexity grew even larger as he looked at his companion. Absorbed, he gazed at Luciara for a few seconds.
"Cou... Cousin?"
"Huh?" The young woman was startled by the familial term he used, in a Common Tongue as proficient as his father's.
‘Cousin’? Confused, Mavros alternated his gaze between the two.
Luciara and they are family? Sheida wondered, just like his father and his friend. The three Ayarians stayed close, as intrigued to find out as the knight.
Luciara delved a bit into her memories. Everything made sense.
"Gabran?" She replied, as astonished as he was. Both were impressed by how much they had grown since the last time they had met.
Chatel Chatel approached Luciara.
"So much time..." He made a small bow. "You are not a child anymore, Lady Luciara." Although this unexpected reunion had been as unforeseen for him as for his son, his stern exterior and formality better concealed his surprise at seeing her again.
What do I do now?
Luciara smiled at them shyly, unsure of how to react. They were family, but for reasons beyond her control, they had become more distant to her than many acquaintances. For that reason, she had never planned to visit them during her stay in Netzach, even though she knew they lived in the city.
Gabran dared to break the ice. He approached to give her a short but warm hug, which she reciprocated with some stiffness. Upon letting go, Gabran looked at her intently.
"How, how have you been?" He asked, mimicking his father's refined way of speaking.
"I’m good..." She replied.
Gabran gave her a cheerful smile, understanding her cousin's insecurity. He wanted to make her feel at ease.
"Are you on holidays? Did you come for the Maskirian Week festivities?" He asked, looking at her luggage.
"No, no." Luciara denied, somewhat embarrassed. Except for the Eh-Nam Tournament, she had never had much interest in their events and festivals. She wasn't a very devout believer. "I came to take the admission exams at the University of Netzach."
The admission exams were presented on Tarredi, the second day of the week in the Maskirian calendar. After the festivities, they were the main reason why young people like her visited the city in those dates.
"Really? Do you want to go to the University?" Gabran asked, with a sparkle in his eyes. He knew firsthand the challenge of being admitted to the University of Netzach, even for its less demanding degrees.
"What degree do you want to study?" Chatel Chatel followed, sharing his interest.
"Bachelor's in Nefeshic Martial Arts."
Both men raised their eyebrows. Nefeshic degrees were not accessible to most of the population, but the degree in martial arts, essential to become a Holy Warrior, admitted the fewest students due to its rigorous physical and mental tests. Like her, many prepared throughout adolescence to pass them.
"I see you haven't changed your mind. Since you were little, you knew what you wanted." Gabran said. His past encounters with her could be counted on one hand, but if there was something about them that left an indelible mark on his memory, it was her passion for magic.
"Where will you stay while you take the exams?" the General asked. "Have you already booked a place?"
"Ah?... No, I don't know yet," Luciara replied, a bit disoriented by the question. "I was thinking of looking for an inn near the university."
Chatel Chatel projected a friendly expression, in line with the proposal he was about to make:
"You don't have to look for an inn. You can stay at our home."
Luciara slightly opened her mouth, taken aback by this unexpected invitation.
"Th... thank you, but it's not necessary, really," she politely rejected. "I have enough money to pay for my own accommodation."
The General was not dissuaded by that predictable excuse.
"This is the peak season. Inns inflate their prices," he argued. "Besides, with all the travelers who have been arriving since yesterday, it will be hard for you to find vacancy."
"Yes! You run the risk of ending up in some dodgy place!" added Gabran, supporting his father. "It's better for you to stay with us. Our house is yours, Luciara."
Luciara diverted her gaze and lowered it a bit, invaded by melancholy. "I doubt that my aunt would feel the same. I don't want to inconvenience her," she said.
Inconvenience...? Mavros wondered.
... to her aunt? Even the Ayarians, for whom the General was not entirely likable, were puzzled by the girl's reasons for rejecting their offer.
The faces of Gabran and Chatel Chatel became as serene as a sunset. Grasping the root of her reservations., they immediately understood what Luciara meant.
"My wife would never confuse her relationship with your mother with the feelings she has for you," the General clarified. Between his wife and her sister, Menuha of Salamandera, there were deep, unhealed wounds. "She will be as delighted as we are to have you as our guest."
"Especially Olivrin," added Gabran, regaining his cheerful expressiveness. "Since that time you showed us your 'tricks,' you've inspired him to become 'the greatest wizard in the realm.'"183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡwXVxDMBzAR
"My cousin Olivrin?" Luciara asked with enthusiasm. Gabran nodded. "Does he like Nefeshic arts now?"183Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡr2wAH0XUWu
"He's obsessed," the actor joked. "There isn't a day he doesn't practice with his wand."
Imagining her other cousin experimenting with beginner spells, just as she used to do at his age, brought a genuine smile to the young woman's face.
"So... What do you think, Lady Luciara?" Chatel Chatel asked. "Have you changed your mind?"
The girl nodded. They had dispelled any doubts she had.
"Alright. I'll stay with you."
Her uncle and cousin were pleased with that confirmation, as well as Mavros, who watched her with relief.
The knight turned his neck, looking at the Ayarian merchants. They were waiting for him.
Here we part. He returned his gaze to Luciara and her relatives.
"I'm leaving," he informed them with a small and respectful bow. He looked at the General. "It hath been an honor to cross paths with thee, Ser Chatel Chatel. I can depart with the assurance that Lady Luciara is in capable hands."
"Are you leaving?" the General asked, confused by his sudden farewell. "Aren't you her escort?"
"I was," Mavros clarified. "Our pact concludes at this very juncture, upon reaching Netzach"
"’Our pact concludes at this very juncture, upon reaching Netzach.’" Luciara's conscience mimicked his archaic words, bitter at how he finalized his irreversible decision to leave her.
"I see," said Chatel Chatel. He stroked his beard. "But what if you accompany her a little longer? I invite you to have lunch with us."
Not again…
While he appreciated the General's kindness, Mavros was not too enthusiastic about his proposal. What he initially planned as a solitary and personal journey was turning into one social gathering after another since he got involved with the Salamandera family. He didn't dislike them; on the contrary, but he felt they were hindering him more than he wanted. They were becoming an obstacle, pulling him away from his true objectives.
And to add to that, there was his desire to leave Luciara behind.
"Thank you, Ser, but I doth regret I cannot accept," he said. "I have… matters of import to attend unto."
"Matters to attend unto?" the General inquired. "Where?"
"Well..." He suddenly fell silent. His superficial knowledge of the city made it difficult to improvise. "Near the tournament arena…"
"The Eh-Nam Coliseum," the General clarified. That was the only tournament arena in the city. "Do you know how to get there?" he asked, sensing his hesitation.
Mavros fell silent once again. Frustrated for not finding a good lie to answer, he averted his gaze.
"No," he admitted. "It's my first time in the city…"
"I can take you to the Coliseum," the General assured him. "But after drinking a glass of fine wine in my home, as you well deserve. Please, allow me to insist; I swear you won't be disappointed."
As much as he tried to refuse like Luciara, the knight couldn't help but be persuaded by his hospitality. His curiosity to know more about this important character and his family, in addition to his ties with his former "protégée," ultimately convinced him.
"Very well…", Mavros said.
Chatel Chatel celebrated; he had achieved his goal. He would take advantage of the opportunity to delve into one of the key pieces of a strategic game, then unsuspected even for his sharp intellect.
A master plan whose final preparations were being completed at an accelerated pace.
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