"Well that should be handled by Feler. They won't be able to break through suc-" The elegant voice that came from the inner sanctum of the building, abruptly stopped as Princess Sela pushed open the door.
A fit man in his youth, with the trademark chocolatey brown skin and sharp silver hair of the dark elves gazed at the door. His blood eyes, similar to Sela's and his silver hair neatly pulled back into a long ponytail, with an elegant sword to his waist.
The most identifying aspect of this young man despite his handsome face and trademark red eyes was his arm or lack of an arm. From his right hand all the way up to his forearm was gone leaving only his upper bicep. This made the sword act like a decoration for him, dressing him up like a doll, that's how most people saw it, including Seraph.
His sharp, yet gentle eyes laid on the princess and her followers, his face lit up like a performer's "Sister Sela!"
His clothes resembled that of a merchant's favored son, with black and white streaked baggy pants with an elegant feathered hat. His white buttoned up shirt and black padded vest was tight to his frame while around his neck was leather and a cloak that only went down his right shoulder.
The young man had few people within the building. They all wore pompous attire, elegant suits and dresses that far shaded the young man and Sela. Seraph guessed that these people were the nobles supporting this brother…
Most of them looked at the princess in reverie. While some of the ladies held a more complicated expression one held between reverie and hatred. Ladies such as these could admire her fairer friend's beauty, however, jealousy was sure to follow.
The young man approached quickly, attempting to hold the princess. However, Sela planted her palm in his chest, while sidestepping his attempt to hug her, "Eldest Brother Vaenel." her voice was plain to the ear.
She walked past him, "Eldest Brother, do not interrupt me today. I have many things to do."
Seraph's figure followed like a second shadow to Sela, However, a leg extended in his way. Vaenel observed seraph like he was a beast, walking around him and even touching seraph's frame only to quickly pull away his hand.
"What are you doing?!" Sela immediately turned to raise her voice.
'What the hell…' Seraph stood there, bewildered on what the Prince was doing. Seraph looked at him taking him in, just as he did to him.
Vanel didn't look threatening nor did he sound like it. Seraph couldn't help but to compare himself, Seraph thought himself the same. A mirror image to his frame except a shadow stood behind it.
The little gestures now and then… The way his eyes searched seraph's body. The imposing weapon on his waist, including the great disability he had made seraph look like a cat in front of a lion.
Seraph's brow furrowed, he felt a slight hint of pressure.
"Aren't you going to kneel?" Vaenel's voice was warm and soothing to the ear pulling seraph out of his thoughts. Seraph caught how his eyes glimmered sharply as he spoke.
" Prince Vaenel, such an action is improper." Seraph spoke gracefully.
Sela stomped her foot on the ground and made her way in front of seraph.
As sela was about to echo seraph, Vaenel's voice overtook hers although gentle, "What do you mean?"
"I am not a servant, nor am I a slave to you. The only place I can bow to is the king and our elders." Seraph words were sharp. Seraph spoke truth, these odd royal formalities were based deeply into the culture. King and Elder first, everything else second. These were forms instated by old and long forgotten kings still carried on to the present of their culture.
Vaenel gave a smug smile, as he held an elegant posture. He even looked amused almost, "You've learned a lot about our culture."
Seraph was now sure… Vaenel was a dangerous man. Despite his arms disappearance, he held posture and court like a king. Leaving no question to his royal lineage. Seraph couldn't trifle with royalty easily, yet.
Although, Vaenel's attempt at embarrassing Seraph may have failed… However, Seraph was sure more attempts were sure to come.
"All that I've learned has come from the gracious teachings of the Princess." Sela's hand was reaching to grab seraph's but had paused, Seraph completed the chain. Whilst, gently speaking "Princess, Isn't it time for my training?"
Sela quickly regained her composure, "Ahem, yes. I believe so."
Seraph could feel that he was getting used to her presence and also more used to talking to a lot of people in a short period of time. His little stutter was slowly disappearing as well.
The calmness the system provided was numbing, like a drug slowly allowing him to speak big in front of crowds like Vaenel and his friends.
The trio left the area, going to a corner of the humongous indoor training grounds. It was elegant, with the rooftop being glass to allow sunlight to beam down on its occupants. Seraph, had taken a few glances above as he was pulled along, seeing how big the building truly was.
The sun had gently laid itself in the hairs of the dark elf, illuminating them like stars. Their hair acted like snow, reflecting the light off and into his eyes making them all appear more beautiful. The stone floor, the banners that hang off the wall connected by dark brown branches and green vines.
'If this was in my world… I guess this would be a smaller version of a stadium.' His thoughts drifted slightly; the beauty of these places truly amazed him, even training grounds could look beautiful.
Sela walked slower and leaned forward, whispering into his ears "How are you getting all of this information?"
"I read the book." Seraph leaned back and spoke gently into her ear.
"Really? Are you sure you're not some kind of spy?" Sela leaned closer into him giving him a mischievous grin, she gently grabbed his cheek.
"I'd be a horrible spy then." Seraph shot back.
She gave a soft chuckle, "Then you're gonna have to teach me how to read that book."
"Can't give you promises. I'm not good at teaching, I'm better at learning." Seraph felt her mischief come to a height.
"How about we both give each other an oral lecture instead." Sela didn't whisper this, she spoke aloud and clear. Bringing a blush to seraph's face.
"Princess, you are very keen. I wouldn't need to do such a thing." Seraph quickly attempted to change the subject. To make it less obvious what she was referring to.
"I always am, just showing me it will be enough. Then i'll do all the work." She spoke aloud then whispered her last words into seraph's ear.
Seraph's face turned beet red, while he was distracted she pulled him in closer, her gentle breathing up against his ear "You're just so cute! Sorry…" she then flicked her tongue to the outside of his ear.
This entire interaction attracted the attention of the nobility, mostly the men who huffed and pushed up their chest in defiance.
Alena, the third wheel, looked at Seraph and Sela with a complicated gaze. She didn't look jealous, she held a gaze with a mixture of worry and guilt.
'Most of the men here are all from big noble families.' Alena looked at Vaenel, the first prince. He was staring at Seraph's back with a hungry gaze. He turned and looked at one of the nobles and spoke a few 'gentle' words.
However, after only a few exchanges the nobles grew a vein on his forehead. Then as it continued, the vein subsided and a cruel smile formed on his face as he looked at Seraph.
The noble named Tedd Outa held a wide and powerful chest, with an elegant demeanor. He strode over to the trio, his eyes fixated on seraph with his crooked grin. He slid back his silver short hair as he made a full stop, while grabbing the outside of his collar he spoke, " Princess Sela, How do you do?"
Sela interrupted as she played with Seraph, turned cold as she looked at the noble "What do you want?"
Ignoring the princess' ice-like expression, he continued with his theatrics " Princess, I've heard you wish to train. Perhaps, me and the hero may have a little duel in front of the nobility."
Sela stood silent, "No, I reject."
"I've only asked as courtesy." His eyes narrowed as he looked from the princess to Seraph, "Only you can answer that question. Would you like to duel?"
Sela immediately stomped her foot on the floor, "What do you mean?! I've told you no, that should be final!"
Seraph could already see their plan. Sela may reject a duel to her servant, however, seraph was technically not her servant. Making him his own person. Rejecting this duel was akin to admitting that he was stronger than seraph.
Which seraph with his complex was not fond of… He worked to become this strong. He didn't like the thought of people viewing him as weak.
"I accept." Seraph quickly accepted. He could already see through most of Vaenels plan, a test.
"What?! Seraph, you cannot do this!" Sela turned to Seraph and was about to tell him to stop, however, as she uttered her words she heard the young noble from the other side laugh at her comment.
Seraph looked calm, however, she swore she saw him wince. The young noblemen spoke amongst themselves.
"Of course, he's weak aint he?"
" All heroes are weak aren't they?" They mocked.
Seraph briskly skipped past these comments, as he let out a little chuckle "Can we pull are strikes, this is a friendly duel after all. We wouldn't want accidents to happen."
The Young Noble Tedd stood in front of seraph, looked confused then nodded his head in agreement before a cold smile flashed across his face "Yes, such things happen. However, When people duel, an injury or the act of getting hurt is common isn't it? Even the furthest misplaced strike could result in a horrid accident?"
"I suppose you are correct. Then I won't hold it against you. On my honor." As Seraph added those words, his heart smiled.
The noble looked flustered, then he laughed into the air as he quickly added "Then i won't hold it against you either. on my honor."
Sela smiled, she never doubted seraph's strength. She was worried of the effects of the fight, if seraph won, it would no doubt be through injuring the dark elf. If that happened, then the nobility could in turn make their move.
Sela was still worried, Vaenel. Was like the steel sword, held on his waist. A metal folded back on itself thousands of times to make himself stronger, to fold him into the monstrous entity that he was. His plan could not be this simple...
Seraph didn't let his glee show on his face. Within culture, there were ways to make people unable to do things. Culture can build a civilization while it can also hold it back, the oath they just made is something that holds this culture back.
'On my honor', a phrase said by the dark elves places all of their honor on a promise as expected. If they break the promise, then they shall lose their honor, something held in high regard with the warrior dark elves.
Vaenel narrowed his eyes, he wished to use the fight as a way to shorten the hero's stay, a way of forcing his father to cast out the hero if the hero injured the noblemen, if it was the other way around the dark elves wouldn't respect him. However, his plan had been foiled, but he was still going to get something out of it.
A little performance, led by a hero.