As they step onto the chiselled flooring, immediately the old man recognises familiar faces in the crowds but he does not approach; in his head the list and order of people to meet is already set in stone. He moves swiftly across the sea of heads like an expert sailor in a winter storm, well aware of the dangerous spots and free corridors, moving on at the rhythm of music, following the symphony of the currents; prefering to show rather than say how to navigate these wild and unpredictable waters to the inexperienced son he brought on board for the first time.
As they greet the various nobles Erynth performs bow after the other, introducing himself as being the only son of the esteemed Count of Hilde; quickly growing tired and regretting all the times his father went alone. The minutes slowly go by and as the time for the main event gets closer, little by little the Lords and Ladies gather in front of the magnificent door.
"Look, it's about to begin, we should also…"
The Unswerving Council is delayed by 15 minutes -
As they are about to move an announcement is pronounced by a young page whose face is left as confused as the guests in the hall. Immediately whispers and rumors spread like wildfire across the room, running through the doors and gaining speed in the corridors, engulfing the whole palace; everybody knows what is happening, but no one knows why. It's the first time that the council has ever been delayed, not a notice, not a hint.
Many questions surge on the faces of the count, his son and the bishop; they each search in each other stare for answers but they are as clueless as they appear. Looking for the truth Cassian tries to approach the nearest person while many, indignated by the unexpected delay, are leaving the room steaming in contempt.
"Excuse me, do you happen to know what is going on?"
As the interpellated turns the bishop's face becomes wry without him even realising. The cheerful smile and the curious look suddenly turn into a repulsive grimace and his pose loses all its elegance in the attempt of distancing from the man. Seeing the obvious distaste in the eyes of the boy the figure then remarks, with a smile.
"Good evening to you too"
Sensing the tension rising Gholan intervenes to lessen the atmosphere.
"Duke Shtern, what a delightful and welcome surprise to see you here. Correct me if I'm wrong but this is the first time you attend the council after 15 years of absence. I sincerely hope that everything is going well for you"
The person ignores the lack of manners and turns his attention to the old count. He is an imposing presence, not for some particular physical traits, neither is the attitude aggressive or oppressive. It's the atmosphere that comes with him that intimidates the most. His stare and the burning coldness that accompanies it is what most try to avoid; his eyes capable of putting unease to even the stoutest of hearts, silencing the haughtiest tongue.
He's a very mysterious individual, not much is known for sure about him, except for his authority and influence that is felt all across the empire, his role in the ascendance of the Insolum Dutchy, and the fact that he's rumored to be a descendant the of mythic High Human race that once ruled the lands seas and skies.
« That makes me wonder, what do the common people know about him as of now? »
« Well, all they know is that he's at least 150 years old, since his first appearance was at the side of Kiriss the Conqueror; that he's quite proficient at fighting and leading armies, because that's how he was appointed marquis; that he's quite skillful in politics and bureaucracy, because that's how he became duke. Everything other than that is pure speculation by the masses: Many theorize that he's an High Human because of his lifespan and seemingly eternal youth, even though they have no substantial evidence since the last presumed lineage extinguished over 300 years earlier, while others think that he may be some sort of God or superior being. To be completely fair the last theory makes me chuckle every time someone mentions it »
The duke takes great pride in who and what he is. Loved by the people in the duchy, feared by the people in the empire; his name is often associated with the concept of absolute dominion, especially within his territories. Many during the years aimed for his throne and some even for his head, nevertheless after more than 130 years of his rule no one even came close to threatening him or his institution.
At first glance his look is unremarkable but somewhat mesmerising all together; short well kept deep-black hair, so black as a matter of fact, that sometimes even light gets absorbed by that darkness with only a white lock on the right side breaking the pace. Not particularly high but certainly not short, reaching around 1.80 meters with a refined athletic but not especially muscular physique.
What really is impressive and a bit spine-chilling is how, despite being more than a century old, his appearance is that of someone in his early thirties; his eternal youth is indeed what leads most to think of him as a High Human. That, and the fulgurating 'Tryan-purple' irises unique to him on the whole planet; only chanted about in myths and legends.
"Thanks for your concern, Count Gholan; I couldn't help but notice the man next to you, is he perhaps your son?"
Despite being father and son, Erynth resembles much more his mother, both in attitude and aspect. Nevertheless the duke quickly connects the dots and rightly guesses.
"It's an honor to finally meet you, I am Erynth cui Wartner, son of Gholan cui Wartner; of the Wartner household"
As he speaks he lowers his head, more as a sign of respect rather than a social norm, fully acknowledging the man that stands before him. Having finished, the other introduces himself, without bowing but remaining distinctively refined and imperious he replies.
"Greetings to you, I'm known as Dan Gaius Augustus Maximus qui Shtern, Duke of the Insolum Dutchy; of the Shtern household"
"And about your question, dear bishop, I myself don't know the answer; but I'm sure that if you pray hard enough God will be plenty merciful and enlighten us all, maybe"
Offended more by the duke's rhetoric rather than the comment on religion the boy tries to maintain his cool, but fails.
"Tell Baron Sthael that his presence is much more appreciated; Your lackey is way more polite and reasonable. to be fair, compared to a power hungry dictator everybody would seem more level headed"
"Your compliments flatter me, father"
Replies the duke, along with a tall and skinny figure that has appeared behind him. It's Baron Shtael, as always with a bony smile and a serene glance that misleads unaware people like a candy left on the table. Cassian, clearly even more displeased by the presence of both sarcastically comments.
"Shouldn't you be busy scheming behind the curtains, manipulating lesser nobles and fallen aristocrats trying to achieve world domination?"
"Now, now, that's a slight exaggeration. What about you? Shouldn't you be guiding flocks of sheeps towards salvation?"
The bishop clenches his hand into a fist, grinds his teeth and frowns his eyelashes; he's fuming, the graceful side of him now completely replaced by anger and contempt. With the attitude of an angry adolescent, walks up to him to face him directly; or at least tries since he's not yet tall enough.
Hearing the commotion many of the few remaining guests around them take distances not to get caught into the imminent storm. Cassian has always despised the duke, not for any particular reason, but simply because his family has always been opposing the Insolum Dutchy, and being the son of his father the easily swayed youth thought it appropriate to carry on such rivalry.
"I know what you are doing down there, in Freim; I will expose all your misdeeds, you tyrant"
Replies with all the hatred and loathe of generations of an entire family. Duke Shtern is quite surprised at how quickly the information spread across the lands. But this is not the first time someone has tried to catch him off guard, nor is it the last.
"You would not understand even if I were to explain it to you… Fine listen, I'll make it as easy as possible. It's just an economic agreement between me and Count Chippler"
"Yeah, and it's pretty one sided wouldn't you agree?"
"Yes, you are right, it is pretty one sided. The Freim county is getting free grain shipments each month in exchange for a fraction of the ores they mine"
The bishop can be seen rushing his brains to find a proper counter argument, but the duke doesn't leave time to think.
"Actually, I've been informed by a passing bird, that your brothers and sisters of 'the Order' up in the northern regions are actually inciting the populus to revolt against their local lords if they themselves are not followers of your religion; totally ignoring whether they are wise or effective. I've also heard that the first 'Circufixions' are being performed, one of them being the old Baron Stephen; used to be one of my dearest friends. Don't you think that's pretty heinous for a religion that aims to free man from imperfections?"
Replied with a passive aggressiveness characteristic of him. Sensing the opportunity for an undeniable comeback supported by facts the young bishop replied in a hurry, more with his heart rather than his mind.
"All the circufixions were carried out by the will of the mighty, they were all blasphemous individuals who mislead the people by diverting their earthly efforts from the pursuit of holiness into instant gratification leasures; you should know very well what I'm talking about"
"Yes, whatever floats your boat; I guess"
Responded tiredly, already fed up by the bishop's persistence and aptitude.
"My Liege, you should not waste your effort on such trivial bickering. Conserve your patience for the real discussions, possibly with real men"
Intervened Baron Sthael. The duke then slowly and slightly noods his head and before leaving the scene greets everyone with a last, cold, smile.
« Is it only me or does Dan seem pretty annoyed? »
« No, you are completely right. Duke Shtern as of now is extremely vexed because of the delay of the council, the meeting with Bishop Tullivan and especially the recent death of his old friend, Baron Stephen, circufixed of the Order. But even more frustrating for him are noble's social gathering events such as this one; he truly despises having to deal 'nobles of the Jewels', him being probably the most notable exponent of the 'Nobility of the Sword' »
« … »
« … Nobles of the Sword are those whose noble origins are embedded in the past as history makers: Knights, Princes, Heroes and so on. They might not be the wealthiest or most relevant but they surely are the most prideful. Nobles of the Jewel are instead from very wealthy families or households who bought the nobiliar title via arranged marriages or pure riches. Although they cannot claim glorious pasts or notable forerunners they are mostly merchants, lawyers and bankers; thus they all are very prosperous and very influentials »
« Yeah, I of course knew that already »
As the duke and the baron start walking off towards a table with the intention to have a drink while waiting, Cassian murmuring unwillingly slips a few words he shouldn't have spoken.
"He's so damn annoying! Always has to have the last word, it's unbearable. I hope for him to be silent forever, just like that old geezer Baron Stpan… Steppen or something!"
And thus, dread silence takes over the hall.