The Grand hall
The grand hall echoed with the rustling of the king’s silver cape as he turned, his piercing gaze sweeping over the gathered nobles and guests. His voice, both regal and commanding, resonated throughout the chamber:
“Follow me.”
The siblings, Gustein, and a few of the high-ranking nobles obeyed, trailing after the king as his presence carved a path through the murmuring crowd. Whispers flared among the nobility, their voices barely contained in their gossip.
"How dare they walk beside His Majesty?" one noble muttered.
"To bring Earthers into our sacred halls," another hissed. "What madness is this?"
One nobleman, middle-aged by Elven standards, lingered silently as the group passed. His sharp eyes locked onto the siblings, and a faint smile curved his lips. His attention shifted to a rotund noblewoman standing nearby, equally middle-aged in appearance. Their gazes met, and with an almost imperceptible nod, an unspoken understanding passed between them.
The king, oblivious or indifferent to the whispers, led the group out of the hall. As the entourage exited, the man who had been observing the siblings slipped his hands behind his back. Pressing a hidden device strapped to his wrist, he whispered under his breath, "It begins."
---
Ascending the Castle
The group began climbing the spiraling staircase, its steps wide and gleaming with polished marble. The king’s commanding aura kept everyone silent, save for the faint echoes of their footsteps. His cape fluttered with each stride, and the nobles followed in respectful silence, their unease masked by formality.
Breaking the stillness, the princess turned to Ziraiah, her tone curious and soft:
“My grandfather told me stories about the Elvhein. Are those stories true?”
Ziraiah hesitated, her voice uncertain. “Stories? I… I’m not from here, so I don’t know them, Your Highness.”
The princess’s eyes gleamed with nostalgia. “As a child, my grandfather often read me bedtime stories of your kind. He spoke of warriors unmatched in battle, of minds that held the secrets of the world. Legends say your people created artifacts so powerful that the Unbound would kill to possess them. Even now, the remnants of what you left behind have plunged the world into chaos, as the Unbound scour the lands to claim your treasures.”
Intrigued, Ziraiah asked, “What sort of things did they leave behind?”
The princess smiled faintly, her gaze distant. “Artifacts. Treasures. Tools of unimaginable power.” She paused, lowering her voice to a whisper. “Things that could shape the fate of nations.”
Ziraiah glanced at the king ahead of them and lowered her voice further. “Is it safe for us to talk like this? Your father is kind of—”
“Scary?” The princess finished with a sly grin. “Don’t worry about him. He won’t mind.” She leaned closer. “So, what did the stone say?”
Ziraiah hesitated, glancing around nervously. “You don’t think I’m lying?”
The princess’s expression softened. “I’m just curious.”
Hesta’s quiet voice emerged from the shadows beside them, startling Ziraiah. “Yes. I’m curious too.”
Ziraiah turned to see Hesta walking beside her, her calm demeanor masking the intensity of her gaze. Valerius, who had been eavesdropping, pretended to inspect the staircase but listened intently.
---
The Queen’s Chamber
At last, they reached an ornate door inscribed with glowing runes. The king raised his hand, and the runes illuminated under his touch, unlocking the entrance with a soft hum. The door creaked open, revealing the queen’s chamber.
As they entered, the room was shrouded in an almost sacred silence. The Elven Queen lay upon an ornate bed, surrounded by attendants who diligently tended to her. Her once-radiant form was now frail and sunken, her skin a pallid gray, her muscles wasted away. Her condition was so dire that her bones protruded visibly beneath her skin.
Ziraiah gasped, covering her mouth in shock. Valerius, however, could not contain his thoughts:
“Goddamn, she’s ancient.”
The words slipped from his lips before he could stop himself. The princess’s face twisted in annoyance as she snapped, “That’s my mother.”
Realizing his blunder, Valerius paled and immediately began bowing repeatedly, his words tumbling over each other. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry.”
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Ziraiah silently cursed him. “This idiot,” she thought. “How is he so stupid?”
Eryndor, standing behind them, sighed deeply, his refined features barely concealing his embarrassment.
From behind, the nobles began murmuring, their whispers growing louder.
“What did he say to the princess?”
“Did he harm her?”
“Guards, seize him!” one noble exclaimed, pointing at Valerius.
The guards stationed in the four corners of the room stepped forward, but before they could act, the princess raised a hand, her voice calm but firm. “It’s fine. Stay where you are.”
The king, observing the commotion, used thought transmission to communicate with his daughter:
“What transpired, Eli?”
Eli replied through thought, her tone measured. “It is nothing, Father. An unfortunate slip of the tongue.”
The king’s mental voice softened slightly. “Very well.”
Out loud, he addressed the room with a regal tone. “Leporid, I trust you will not disappoint me.”
---
The Healing Begins
The nobles whispered among themselves as Gustein stepped forward.
“What is this Leporid going to do?” one asked.
“The king didn’t tell us anything,” another grumbled.
“Does he not trust us?”
Gustein raised his hands over the queen’s frail body, his expression unreadable. Before he began, the king spoke again, his tone firm and elegant:
“Leporid, heed my words. I shall tolerate only two outcomes: either her condition remains unchanged, or it improves. Should she worsen under your care, you will understand the full extent of my wrath.”
Gustein grimaced, muttering to himself. “What the hell kind of disease is this? Isn’t she just… too old? Whatever. Let’s get this over with so I can leave this damned kingdom.”
He began channeling his Seed ability, a faint glow emanating from his hands. Slowly, the queen’s body began to rejuvenate. Her gray skin regained color, her sunken cheeks filled out, and her frail frame started to show signs of life.
The nobles gasped in awe.
“Who is this man?” one exclaimed.
“We tried every elixir and healing magic. How is he accomplishing this?”
Valerius, unimpressed, muttered, “I thought I’d see some glowing lights or something. Gustein’s Seed is boring.”
The princess turned to him, her tone sharp. “Seeds? Your companion has a Seed? I thought they were myths.”
Eryndor replied, his voice calm but tinged with intrigue. “It seems so. Gustein is proof of their existence.”
The princess’s eyes sparkled with wonder. “First, I meet Elvheins, then a Seed user, and now my mother is healed. This might be the best day of my life.”
Gustein lowered his hands, stepping back. “It’s done.”
The king approached the queen’s bed, kneeling beside her. His regal composure broke as he took her hand gently. “My love, can you hear me?”
The queen’s eyes fluttered open, her voice faint but filled with emotion. “Gozay?”
Tears streamed down the king’s face. The princess ran to her mother’s side, throwing herself onto the bed and embracing her. “Mother!” she cried, her voice breaking with emotion.
Valerius watched the scene, murmuring, “I guess even he has a heart.”
Eryndor responded quietly, his tone thoughtful. “No matter how cruel a man may seem, his love for his family endures. That is, if he is truly a man.”
---
The Plot Unfolds
Meanwhile, back in the hall, the nobleman who had been observing the siblings stood motionless, his eyes fixed on the ceiling. Only a few lower-ranking nobles and guards remained. In a low voice, he said, “Only act when I give the go-ahead.”
---
Outside the Castle
Near a small, heavily-guarded building, a towering Pesterio with four arms, dark skin and a horn on his forehead stood before the entrance. His bald head gleamed under the moonlight as he waved his hand in front of an oblivious guard. “This artifact is really good. I can’t believe he can’t see me.”
Hiding behind a tree, a dark-skinned human girl with an afro whispered sharply, “Beily, stop that. Don’t ruin the mission before it even starts.”
The Pesterio, Beily, grinned. “Relax, Silvie. They can’t see or hear us. The artifact is working. Dreados will give the signal soon. Don’t be scared. I’m here.”
---
The Mission Begins
As the king stood in the Queen’s Tower, the weight of his emotions consuming him, the world outside remained oblivious to the dangerous scheme unfolding near the castle.
In the shadows outside the treasure room, Beily, the towering Pesterio, crouched with an eager grin as he held a small device in his hand. Turning to the human girl beside him, Silvie, he whispered with an edge of excitement, “It’s time. Put on the Arch armor. You Earthers are so frail, I’ve already drawn the circle around the guards.”
Silvie hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest, but she nodded and began securing the thin black suit around her body. The material shimmered faintly, hugging her figure like liquid metal as a helmet formed over her head.
Beily bent low, his unnervingly eyeless face inches from hers. “Is your heart pounding?” His voice was low and teasing, as if he thrived on her nervousness.
Silvie swallowed hard. “Yes.”
Beily smirked, straightening up and turning back to his device. “Good.”
With that, he pressed the button. Instantly, the guards stationed around the treasure room stiffened, their bodies seizing before collapsing unconscious to the ground.
“You brought the Krack, right?” Beily asked, his tone light as if they weren’t committing treason against an entire kingdom.
Silvie held up a small artifact, its crystalline structure glowing faintly. “Yes.”
Beily nodded approvingly, then handed her a small device. “Remember, what you’re looking for is red and shiny.”
As she prepared to move, Beily opened a sleek briefcase, revealing two polished swords and a long, rune-etched gun. He armed himself, slinging the weapon over his back and gripping the swords firmly. His muscles coiled as he braced himself to leap. Turning back, he gave her one last look. “Don’t die on me. Oh, and wait until you hear a loud noise before you start.”
Without waiting for her response, he launched himself skyward with tremendous force, the impact of his leap creating a small crater and sending a gust of wind that whipped through the area. Silvie stumbled slightly, her wide eyes fixed on his rapidly disappearing form. “What the hell…” she whispered, momentarily stunned by his inhuman strength.
Shaking off her awe, she approached the treasure room’s entrance. Using the Krack, she tapped it against the massive doors. They instantly disintegrated into fine dust, revealing the treasure trove within. Silvie’s mind replayed Beily’s warning: “This artifact is invaluable. Countless lives were lost to acquire it. Do not lose it.”
As the loud noise of Beily’s destructive antics echoed in the distance, Silvie darted inside.
As Silvie disappeared into the treasure room's depths, the air outside thickened with an ominous stillness. The distant echoes of Beily’s destruction rang through the castle like a war drum, signaling the beginning of something far greater than a simple heist.
To Be Continued…
