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The door opened painfully slowly. It dragged across the floor, making a loud creak.
Anticipation: it bubbled in everyone's minds, even Marcus'.
Slowly, a man of around 50, stepped inside, his eyebrows raised and a small smirk visibly painted on his thin lips that looked small on his face.
A face of sheer horror to the king.
"Marcus? What bomb managed to detonate itself here?" asked the tall man, an accent scratched painfully into his voice, " I mean... all the banners that hung on the wall are torn to shreds. And I mean all of them, you even shredded the party posters and notice board. All the stories those images held within their fabric, ripped to shreds. You have any idea how precious those banners were? All the beautiful vases, portraits, carpets and cabinets, smashed. I almost couldn't recognise my great β great - great - great grandfather's antique that he got as a gift for freeing the Baacis,"
Here, a small laugh was let out from the man's shrivelled lips, his moustache growing as the sides to his lips twisted," Marcus, as politely as possible, what the fuck happened here?"
Stillness. No one dared to make a move. Everyone was tense, except Marcus, who was panting, his shoulders still shaking from the exhaustion that came with the post adrenaline rush.
Lord Gaukan locked eyes with Marcus.
"Well, don't be shy boy, please do tell. Actually, do you need me to help you clean up?"
Snap.
White.
And everything was back to normal.
It was as if the events of the last few hours never happened.
Everything was back together.
The banners. The vases. The cabinets. The portraits. The carpets. The shelves. The flowers. The tables. The chairs. The windows.
Everything was back to normal.
Unease took its final leave.
"I was going to clean this up myself idiot," snarled Marcus, through gritted teeth and glare of steel.
"Mmm, sure you were kid, last I checked your magic doesn't cover restoration."
At that, Lord Gaukan paused in thought, before raising his gloved hand to his chest and delicately placing it upon where his heart would have been, lips slightly parting.
"Marcus, you know, you're acting very ungrateful to me right now, your own uncle. Of course you could have. Just wave your hand and you can get an army of wizards that can fix it. As king, you can do anything you damn wish. You won the tournament, after all. You are capable of anything, and more..." Mockery could be heard in that final sentence.
"Shut up, you really think I can't tell when a compliment is heartless?" asserted Marcus, all lost energy now returned," What are you even doing here, I thought I clearly stated that you are not welcome. How did you get past the guards?"
"Now, now, Marcus, let us not get too hasty here. Does it matter how I managed to get here β "
"Yes, it means our defences are down and that we need to invest in β "
"Hush now, pup. Details later. I am here to inform you that my banishment has been overruled by higher powers," Gaukan said, while he took off his thick, leather coat, and dropped it carelessly to the side, motioning for the present maid to take it.
She did not move.
"If you mean Mirvahga," said Marcus, nodding to Merdareth with a thankful smile, "Then I am very sorry to inform you that Mirvahga's contract of importance has recently expired. He is no longer a valid source of power by Iradethian law and you, therefore, are still an exile. I should have you scheduled for an execution, however as you ARE dear family, I will simply let you off with yet another warning, and another fine."
Marcus could feel confidence returning. It was a good feeling that someone in that room believed him and his theory.
It's the truth!
It was a theory.
It didn't matter, Merdareth believed him, and that was all he needed. Lord Gaukan pursed his lips, as guards entered the room in full armour. Hehe picked up his coat, but not before turning to the young man once more.
"You can't avoid me forever Marcus," said Gaukan, slowly slipping back on his coat, "I will find a loophole in your little banishment, just like you did. After all, you have no legitimate evidence. Will you stop it with that stupid little idea of yours already and admit that for once in your insignificant little life you are WRONG?!"
Another silence entered the hall. Unease returned with a smiling face, as Lord Gaukan's mouth twisted in such an unpleasant manner that even the guards had to take a step back.
"You won the tournament. Fine. Keep up these tantrums and you will be removed from power. Better yet, keep postponing your wedding, and you'll be forced to step down by 'Iradethian law'. When you are gone, all your laws will be temporarily removed, meaning that I can re-enter the tournament."
"I came second last time," he continued, "With you out of the way, nothing would stop me from coming first."
By then, however, Marcus had grown tired of the whole exchange. His uncle would do that every time he came to 'visit'; remind him that time was running out, and the very reason he entered the competition would become a reality.
Marcus stood up, stretching his long legs.
Damn, since when were snake skinned shorts so uncomfortable.
"Lord Gaukan, I thank you for your visit. Guards, you may now escort this man out of this castle, or better yet, out of this kingdom. Oh, and also, Henri, I apologise for calling you a sack of fossils previously, that was unprofessional of me. Could you please schedule a sooner meeting in regard to the defence of the castle? Also, take a week off with your wife. Actually, everyone in this room can have this week off. Don't worry, you will still get paid as if you never left. This is the third time this week that you've had to deal with me. You guys deserve it."
They really do.
While Marcus had never felt 'love' in the essence of sexual attraction, he did feel a sort of love for the people around him, and the people of his kingdom.
A sort of appreciation.
They really had done a lot for him. For him and his father and mother, wherever she was now.
Even then, they were escorting the very man Marcus despised out of their territory, simply because he didn't want that man present in the kingdom.
Marcus never really felt like that was HIS kingdom. It was those peoples, he was simply representing it.
And protecting it.
Marcus let out a sigh that he was holding in throughout that whole exchange. He slumped his shoulders and lazily fell down on the throne chair behind him. He rested his legs up on one arm of the chair, and his head on the other one. He gazed at the painted ceiling above him.
It depicted a man in armour, slaying a bird. It was Sir Marcus, a soldier that lived many, many years ago. He lived his life so honourably he became an idol for bravery and courage.
Why?
Because he sacrificed the chance for love for a cause greater than his own.
Marcus knew the story down to the very dot. He loved the story of Sir Marcus. He was named after him after all. The fact that he sacrificed something he loved for something that needed more loving.
What was that, that needed more loving?
The kingdom, of course.
He killed the most birds out of all the soldiers in the Mortem Rising. He had to leave his girlfriend of another world so that he could join the legendary army, knowing that if he left, he would never be able to find her again. Mermaids were nomads, after all, doomed to never stay in one place.
A sacrifice.
A sacrifice.
Sacrifice. Marcus needed some of that. He moved his head away from the images above, and to the door ahead of his throne.
If Marcus had to sacrifice his sanity and ring finger for his kingdom, so be it. It was a bitter thought, but honestly, he was desperate.
He had been mulling over this idea for quite some time now, and knew that it was time to finally act out on it. It was dangerous, and stupid, and would most likely not work, but the date was growing nearer by the day, and no progress was being made.
This was his final resort.
"Henri," said Marcus to the man who was wearing a green robe and had half a head full of hair. He was about to leave the hall so that Marcus could have some time alone, however, it seemed that Marcus had need of him once more.
Not that Henri minded.
Henri was Marcus' right-hand man, his job was to listen and advise the king. Even when he had just been dismissed to go on holiday, and he had all the right in the world to just keep walking, he didn't.
He stopped, and turned to face Marcus, who continued," How many adventure groups do we have at our disposal?"
"Around a hundred and two, your majesty," replied Henri, eyebrows raised.
Adventurers weren't usually summoned by the king, unless it was a national threat, or the king had lost his mind, or the king was very very very drunk.
Marcus was none of those things.
Well, perhaps the insane one could have been true, but Henri would never voice those thoughts to Marcus.
"How many of them, would you say, are suicidal?" said Marcus.
"Excuse me what?" Henri spat out, as he choked on his own saliva from shock.
Perhaps he should raise the topic with Marcus before anything detrimental happened. Pull out the weed before it kills the plant.
"You heard me, how many would be willing to give their lives for a quest that is really stupid if you think about it?" asked Marcus again, in the same calm voice as he had asked in before.
Now Henri was just confused.
"Well, sire, adventurers become adventures, because they can profit from tasks. They are often a lot iller equipped in comparison to our soldiers, simply because they do not have a lot of resources of their own. That is because they are lazy. Tragically lazy. A sloth would be more useful than one of those groups. Your highness, you already know this. Adventures do easy quests so they can have an easy life. I'd say none of them are, as you put it, 'willing to give their life' for a cause that is beyond their own beds. Our soldiers are a lot more experienced and a much better choice-"
Marcus hastily cut off Henri, determination now driving him.
"Yes, everyone knows that," said Marcus, changing his position in which he was to one which resembled sitting. His hands rested on his lap, knuckles tense, regretting the words that were about to leave his mouth.
The adrenaline rush had very obviously set back in, making Marcus shake ever so slightly.
Despite his eagerness, his uncomfort was also very obvious.
(Perhaps he hasn't completely lost his mind, thought Henri, he must be aware of how stupid what he is saying is.)
Marcus continued," However, only an adventure group would be able to do this. There must be a group that is willing."
At that, Henri took a moment to wonder. Hand raised to his chin, his other resting at his waist. He tried to recall a very strange someone he met years ago. It wasn't the perfect answer, but it was better than nothing.
"For the right price, perhaps," said Henri, shrugging his shoulders. He was the king's first advisor, and knew that this wasn't going to end well, " For the right task, perhaps."
"You know a group, don't you," Marcus said, looking deep into Henri's eyes from across the hall.
"I know the right person," said Henri. Oh no, the both of them thought simultaneously.
"Then summon them for me. I want them to find me a wife, from beyond the realm of Iradith. Beyond the realm of magic. I want them to travel to Mundane land; the land of no return."
And in that moment, Henri knew Marcus had gone insane.