"Benedictus Agnes," the vicar read a third name from his scroll.
The summoners in their circle nodded. The tallest one, in a ruby colored robe led the chant. The magic circle before them glowed for the third time. There was a flash of light as the magicians' chant became a shout.
Boom! Crash! The rowdy voices had disappeared, replaced with glittering dust and the smell of sour meat. In the center, there stood a man in chef pâtissier uniform; unremarkable in everything but name. His name tag read 'Ben.'
-
The dignitary's room was beautiful. One could call it a well-furnished living room. The walls were a beautiful light pistachio color, while the drapes were a light peach color. Each piece of furniture seemed to have its place; working in harmony to make the room feel as important as possible. The palace magicians led "Hero Agnes" as they kept calling him, to a sturdy, red cushioned couch in the center of the room.
As he waited, doing his best not to think about his current situation, he noticed the three large plates on the coffee table. The plates were filled with what looked like sugar cookies. They were simple and crude-looking. Some were uneven, and others looked as if they had caved in; their centers raw.
Before he could examine the dish further, a young lady entered the room. If this room was considered beautiful, then she was absolutely stunning. Her dress was a deep sanguine color, darker than the ruby couch Benedictus idled on. He spotted her silver crown, somehow accenting her golden knee-length hair. She sat down gracefully. In one single dignified motion, smoothed her dress while moving her hair out of the way.
Benedictus blinked dumbly. He wasn't sure if he should speak.
"It's nice to meet you," Princess Adelaide spoke first. She reached across the gold trimmed coffee table, grabbing a biscuit off the center plate. Benedictus watched her take a mouse-sized bite of one of the strange biscuits, then a quick sip of tea. It didn't seem as she enjoyed the experience.
Benedictus felt as if she was just eating in front of him to be cordial. She sat across from him on a tan couch with small, satellite ruby pillows.
"I apologize," she said. Her voice was light, but firm. Benedictus could tell that with a little more time she would be a great public speaker, but now, she had a simple tell. She gripped her dress before she spoke, "It seems as if you were summoned here on accident. Because of our mistake, my father has removed your 'Heroic' title." She gripped her dress, gently taking another micro-sip of tea.
"Instead, you will be given to one of our scientists in the Backend."
"The Backend?"
"Yes. You will be leaving tonight," she said. She didn't answer his question. In fact, Benedictus was led away by a set of well-armed guards.
--
That evening, after napping alone in a damp dungeon for a few hours, he was pushed into a cart full of hay.
"See that he gets there in time," a guard stated. Benedictus heard the grumbling agreement of an old man, then the crack of a whip. The cart wobbled, reminding Benedictus of his empty gurgling stomach, before moving forward in pace. The sounds of iron on cobblestone hung in the air.
By the time Benedictus had fallen asleep, they had traveled past the castle. Past the cobblestones and royal banners. Past the bustling taverns, busiest late in the evenings. Past the city's sleepy gate guardsmen. Going… well who knows where?