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Iradethian summers were never kind. The blazing inferno of a sun burned the surface of the earth - making shadows the only safe haven for anyone unfortunate enough to be living in the mystical lands. Plants, animals, humans, all alike; they cowered in any dark spots they could find. Their only goal being; to survive the passing heat bursts.
It was always like this, a burst of heat before the weather subsided into the next season. Three months of suffering before the cycle renewed itself. That particular day marked the beginning of the month before the autumn... and people were excited. Season changes were a big deal in Iradith, often a cause for celebration. A cause to party, because they had survived yet another year of manic heat. A chance to relax, before the busy chores autumn's winds would bring about. That was why, if you looked out your window, and saw the streets of Main Caulden (just outside where the main Iradethian castle resided) people were bustling, despite the horrendous heat. Running, shouting, scampering: if you weren't doing one, you were doing the other. Not even the outlandish weather conditions could halt the organisations being held. Usually, it could. The season change wasn't always celebrated if the sun was cruel for long enough. But that season change, that particular one, was very special to the people, and the wonder realm as a whole.
You see, fellow reader, that seasonal shift of 'summer to autumn' in Iradith that year, coincided with another major event. An event that would mark the beginning of a whole new rein in Iradith. One that would finally mean that Marcus was the legitimate King.
The event at question?
The Royal wedding.
And that... made everyone excited.
Everyone was running about, hyped beyond their wildest senses. Marcus was loved by all in Iradith - he was the perfect ruler in the laities eyes. Kind, intelligent, selfless: ask anyone in Iradith, and most would agree that those words were pretty much owned by the young man. Of course, there are always sceptics, but in those past two years, Marcus had proven that he only really cared about the people... not the throne.
Yes, maybe it did get a little dangerously heated every Tuesday at twelve pm in the castle, but other than that, he had been a relatively good guy. Weekly charity events, smart investments of the nation's wealth, honest announcements of his plans (with a new method that allowed the people to vote if they like that plan)... You name it, and Marcus had most probably done it. It was for this very reason everyone was trying to contribute to the preparations for his big day. The day that they could finally call Marcus; King Marcus!
That was why everyone was doing something. Making decorations, food, presents, entertainment contributions, outfits, music... whatever you name, the Iradethian's were taking care of it. Everyone was making sure all the boxes were ticked, that everything was accounted for, that everything was considered, and not even the menacing sun could stop them.
Everyone had a role to play; a responsibility.
However, amongst all that fuss, amongst all that collective obsession to make everything perfect, amongst all those shambles, a group emerged from the castle entrance, knowing the one thing no one was considering. The biggest concern everyone was simply overlooking, because it would mean something wasn't right. A painfully big question, that could mean that all their preparations were for nothing. The question?
Who was the damn wife?
And that group (as the King's last, desperate resort), was given the responsibility: to come up with an answer.
"Is this what paradise feels like?" sighed a bouncy girl, as she and her friends descended down the crumbling steps of the castle entrance. Her bushy hair shimmered brightly in the harsh sunlight, but not as brightly as her devilish smile that she wore proudly on her lips.
"I wouldn't say it's 'paradise' per-say, but it sure does feel amazing to be hired," answered a tall boy beside her. His deep brown eyes gazed over the rushing crowd that they were about to enter, wondering if anyone had noticed them. To be honest, he wouldn't be surprised if everyone had realised, since Kamaria was being so loud with her joy.
"Hired? We were hired BY THE KING Kincaid!" Kamaria exasperated, "This is incredible! We'll be rich!"
"You know what," another of the group gleamed, a person with a pixie cut and a large sword and shield carried on her back, "Anything beats sulking at the headquarters. It was getting rather depressing down there."
"You guys are being so loud, damn," complained Kincaid, who ducked into an alleyway and motioned for the group to follow his lead. They had all made their way down the grand staircase and needed to hide for a brief while before continuing with their journey. It was a small alley - only about two meters wide - that was directly across where the stairs were. A colourful, lightly see-through tapestry was draped from the two building's roofs, making a kind of ceiling that connected to the large, man-made canopy that covered the main town square. It cast a light pink and blue shadow onto the group, making their attires murkier and appear duller than they actually were. The bricks of the buildings were old and crumbling, with moss and small flowers peeking out of the cracks; the group had to huddle slightly together to make sure they didn't irritate the deteriorating material by accident. Kincaid smiled as he realised the small white flowers were hiccups, an uncommon flower type that liked to grow on walls. He hadn't seen them in a long while.
"Excuse me? What do you mean 'you guys'? Kamaria is the one screaming! We're innocent," complained another boy amongst the lot, this one bearing a scar on his left cheek that was poorly sewn up. Kincaid only glared at Istrum. He was right, but Kincaid didn't like pinning blame on a single person.
Especially Kam.
"It stinks of death in this ally!" said Kamaria, wrinkling her nose. Kincaid hadn't realised that there was a small garbage disposal inbuilt in the back corner of the alley, one that clearly hadn't been emptied out in weeks - but that wasn't his problem.
"We don't want to be seen now do we?" Zenobis retorted, looking around the corner to make sure they weren't being followed or observed. He silently thanked her for saying it for him.
The group of five had always stood out. Even then, under the bright blue summer sky, amongst the large crowd of bustling Iradethians, they looked like a sore thumb sticking out. It might have been the weapons, it might have been that they walked out of the castle, but it was most definitely because of who they were.
Kamaria, Kincaid, Zenobis, Istrum and Orius had always struggled because of that very reason.
Being an adventure group, in itself, was difficult. The profession's honour had rapidly declined over the years, ever since dishonesty and betrayal amongst the society had sprouted. It was always deemed an easy path for someone to take, to the point, that it had become the hardest to survive on. Even most criminals preferred to rot in jail cells than be associated with such a community.
Every one of those members knew that.
They knew that 'adventure groups' were the scum bag of Iradith, even if they really weren't assholes individually. Harmful stereotypes; that was Kamaria's reasoning (a conclusion surprisingly accurate). But most people thought it was because of the scandal that happened a few years back, exposing how a lot of groups were working for the Black Marks.
But that's a story for another day.
So, when Kamaria was invited by Henri to the castle, as well as her group, they were overjoyed. Well... Kamaria was overjoyed. It's not every day an adventure group was summoned by the king, unless it was a national emergency, or the King had lost their mind, or the King was very, very, very, very drunk. She was pleased when Henri informed her it wasn't because of any of those things. Beyond pleased. She had skipped around in circles for almost ten minutes before she could finally tell Kincaid the news. Not that he could recall how long it took her to calm down. He only remembered how happy she was, and how that was all that mattered.
But, the others - while still incredibly grateful for the opportunity to work - weren't as enthusiastic as the bundle of cluelessness.
"This is so great," Kamaria continued, the bounce in her step stopping as she finally stood in one place, "this will be our ticket to life! Never again will we have to worry about anything."
The group exchanged looks while Kamaria rambled.
"Yeah, I'm with you on that Kami, this is a nice feeling," Istrum hummed, resting his chin on the large stick he was holding the whole time, careful not to poke at his wound. He knew what everyone was thinking. Even Kincaid was thinking it, but he tried his best not to so Kamaria wouldn't catch on.
"You know, you look so pretty when you're happy," said Kincaid as he smiled at the bushy-haired girl that was still bouncing in place. She was smiling so hard, he genuinely thought she'd sprain her jaw. Like a dog that sprains its tail from excessive wagging. It wasn't often that she wore a genuine smile; one that came from true, pure, unfiltered joy. Despite her being known for being a ray of painfully bright sunshine, Kincaid was the only person who knew that she was putting on an act for everyone else. Her thoughts were always so readable to him. He was glad that that smile wasn't one to just to make everyone else feel better.
"Could you not do that when we are around?" snarled Zenobis, her large sword clanging loudly when Istrum adjusted her straps that had tangled up somehow," (Thanks Istrum) - Or when any of us are conscious? It's disgusting. Stupid pairs always showing how they're in love, we get it!"
The couple only laughed at Zenobis's discomfort, linking their arms as the group finally discussed what to do. Zenobis mainly talked about how they should replace their weapons before starting anything, while Istrum explained how he thought they should first get the supplies they would need first. Kamaria thought they should go drinking, and while they did think that was a fine idea, it would be very dumb of them to walk into a pub at this time of day. They could've easily been recognised. Kincaid suggested that they should try asking at headquarters if anyone knew anyone who could point them in the right direction but was cut off by Orius.
Orius.
Now Orius, he rarely spoke, and when he did, it was as if the energy of the place was sucked out of existence.
His dark manner and strangely confident composure intimidated all around him, even his friends that were there with him. That was why when he loudly mumbled, "We're going to the forest. Follow me. Keep close or you'll get lost in the fog," everyone went dead quiet. It was like he had stolen their voices. No one argued as he left the narrow alley and began to snake his way through the crowd. They followed in complete silence.
Wow, so rude... Kincaid thought to himself, as he tried to do his best not to bump into the multitude of people rushing around. He hated that even though he had known Orius for a solid two years, Orius could still pull that off. Then again, Istrum had known Orius for ten, and he was following quietly behind the dark man as well. Even the public were moving out of Orius' way. Not by much of course, he wasn't Moses by the red sea, but it was enough for Kincaid to notice - and that was more than enough.
The worst part? Orius knew what he could do, all too well to Kincaid's distaste...
But it was okay. It was fine.
All that mattered to him was the gang were finally happy.
Kamaria was finally happy.
That was enough to leave him smiling like an idiot as he sped walked beside a skipping girl, ignorant to the mist creeping beneath their feet.