George stared blankly at the king, confused by what he had just been asked. Did he mean like an apprentice? a pupil? Was he going to teach him how to use his power?
Cabinruz stood before the skilled young man, his hand outstretched towards him. It had been so long since he had seen such potential in someone who looked so young. What was left of the dummy settled into the pile of its own stuffing until a guard picked up the pieces while another carried in a replacement.
Blaire and Rupert looked in astonishment at the sudden change in demeanor that the king displayed. Darwyn stepped between the two of them raising his snout toe the sky. "Sire! I must ask that you reconsider. how you can see any potential in this miserable miscreant is beyond me. This is the royal palace, not some dirty stable house where just anyone and their gods can wander inside. Those mercenaries have most likely never even heard of a shower!"
Just as quickly as his smile appear so too did it disappear. He leaned in close to Darwyn, grabbing him by the collar of his uniform. "What have I told you about questioning my decisions?" The two of them stood there locked in that tense exchange before Cabinruz threw him off to the side, huffing.
George excitedly shook the king's hand, the cold silver of the ring rubbing against his hand.
"Wonderful, quite wonderful indeed. I'll have some of the servants prepare a room for you all." Cabinruz, now jovial, grinned with his whole fanged smile on display.
"Wait, we'll be staying here?" George asked.
"Well why wouldn't a master want their apprentice to be close by?" the king asked.
This is amazing! With this we have an in with the king that would've taken years to get! Blaire thought. They locked eyes with Rupert who gave a huff. All this huff about a kid who's barely known what the hell is going on in this world.
Mimi let out a small gasp as George walked back towards the group. "Geowge, Geowge!" She raised her arms towards him as George picked her up, smiling.
He chuckled as the king led the group inside the castle, the wooden door closing behind them.
When they had gotten settled into their rooms, George was pulled aside by the king.
"Listen well, I will meet you at the eastern balcony at 8 sharp on the marrow. Sleep well, and be ready for I don't intend to go easy on you…" He gave a mighty grin as he patted George on the shoulder and left.
"8 sharp, got it." George said to himself as he watched the sun dip in the crimson sky. The view from his window was drastically different from the one in he had grown accustomed to in Argrin.
That night the four of them enjoyed a feast of a meal. It was more than he had seen in the last three weeks. When he went back to his room, he didn't even remember going to sleep.
When the sun came up in the sky again, George found himself laying on the soft bed given to him by his teacher. A sharp rapping came from the door to his left. "Mister Devourer, sir, you are late for your training with his highness." It was a soft, regal voice coming from the door. It was strange. George thought. that when he went to smell who was on the other side, he couldn't detect anything.
When opened the door, he found the source of the noise an elderly looking man with the head of a rabbit in a classic butler's uniform. However his demeanor was that of a great Grizzly bear. "Oh pardon me, I'll just get you changed and we'll see his highness."
In seconds, George was stripped of his ragged clothes. they were thrown to a pile onto the bed. "Hey, wait. NO you're not taking away my clothes. At least not the hoodie."
"Pray tell, Master Devourer, what is this 'hoodie' you speak of?" The butler spoke while ruffling through the closet looking for appropriate clothing.
"Its the purple piece of clothing." George said plainly.
"Ah I see, I'll make sure not to throw that out sir..." The butler said calmly as he pulled out a strange set of clothes from the closet. "Now hold still sir."
George didn't fight the butler as he dressed him. The cloth was different than he was used to. It didn't help that he would never see the rest of his clothes again. He thought at least.
When they were done George looked down at his new clothes, the greenish-silver of the tunic contrasted with the bright purple of the hoodie that was draped overtop his clothing. "One last thing sir." the butler said as he untucked the necklace from underneath the tunic, laying it over top and underneath the hood.
It didn't take him long to find the right balcony, the landscape of the city stretching out underneath the ledge. George took a small look over the edge, noting on how high up they were from the city square below.
"That's not a problem, now is it?" Cabinruz asked, his regal wear nowhere to be seen. His burly scaly arms were laid bare as his mane flowed in the small breeze.
George shook his head as he walked away from the edge.
"Now, I want you to come at me with all you've got. Exert your will, don't let anything cloud your vision except the enemy in front of you." He said widening his stance as George ran towards him.
He wasn't able to get close to the king before he felt his feet leaving the ground.
For the next three months, George would endure the same beating. Time after time, he would get just a bit faster, but every time, so did Cabinruz. Each day he returned to his room where the butler, Shamus, would nurse his wounds. Only to receive them the next day. And each day, when he fell, the king would say the same thing. "You mustn't let your gift exert its will onto you. Grab it by the reigns and make it yours!" or some other variant. He barely saw the rest of the group during his training, but he when he would Mimi always seemed bigger.
It wasn't until the changing of the seasons came, that he didn't wake up to the same rapping upon his door. However, Shamus was waiting outside for him. He quickly got dressed and opened up the door.
"Shamus? What's going on, Is there no training today?" George asked.
"No sir, it seems as though you have been freed for the day. His Majesty has some important matters to attend to. but he did leave a message for you. 'go out and enjoy the wonders of my fair city." Shamus stood tall as George's smile widened.
"Then I'm off!" He shouted as he tried to push past the butler before he could though he felt his pockets fill with a heavy sack. Shamus walked out of the way as George grabbed his satchel, stuffing it with the coins that he had filled his pockets with.
George didn't mind that it was the first time venturing into the city for the first time since he had first arrived to the capitol. His
Oh eyes were filled with wonder as he walked the streets of the square. The first shop he walked into was manned by an elderly looking woman, her face was wooly with a nose similar to Blaire's. Her grey hair wandered off in many directions.
The other patrons were calm as the old lady was wiping down her counter. She looked up with her usual gentle demeanor until her eyes fell upon George's necklace.
In seconds her smiled faded as she began shooing people out of the store. "Go on! Now git! We're closed now! All yous out!" Her thick accent resounded off of the various glass bottles stationed on the shelves.
Once the whole store was emptied except for the two of them, she scuttled from behind the counter. However what could have been millions of legs appeared underneath the worn cloth. She eyed him up and down before she stopped in front of him.
"What the Braygen do ya think you're doing here? Have ya lost yer mind or is there a brettwer bug between yer ears?" She looked obviously annoyed and frustrated at George's presence. As he tried to leave, she scuttled in front of him blocking the door.
"Oh no, ya can't just go an' leave once I've found ya! There's something I wanna talk about to ya."
"Look lady," George started.
"Gretthylde. Names Joan Gretthylde. An' yer George, right?" She interrupted as she glared at him.
"Y-yes…how did you know?" He asked surprised that he didn't need to introduce himself. She just glared at him as he continued speaking.
"Well anyway Joan, what's got you so sour? And what do you need to talk to me about?"
"What's got me sour is that you've been wearing that thing round yer neck without any protection with ya. An' we'll get teh why I need yeh here." She began scuttling back over to the counter. "Ya see, that thing around yer neck is a symbol that yer a descendant of the Queen of Fire."
George looked down at his necklace and then back at Joan.
"What does my necklace have to do with some Queen of Fire?" He asked, still confused.
"Ye don't know the Queen of Fire? They say that because her hair shined like the embers of a Phoenix, but when she crumbled into the ash, she didn't rise. And that necklace is the second half of the pair that she owned. Said she gave one to her descendant." Joan said in a solemn tone. " I used to be her servant, ya know. None of these new bloods remember the revolution and how bloody that bastard's campaign was. Now we have to live underneath the rule of that Barbarian." She huffed as she bent down putting a small box on the counter and opening it. George saw another image of the fiery haired woman. This time there was a soft look to her as he stared up at her, he felt that he knew her almost.
As she closed the lid he raised a small bronze key with a G on the end tied to a leather rope. "I can't say too much right now but take this. You'll be needing it for when you venture down into the Castle's deepest depths."
"Wait why am I doing that." He asked the key feeling cold in his hands as she handed it to him. "Well yous gots tons of questions now, don't you?" She asked in return. "This'll give ye answers... now go! Those bastards at the castle are probably looking for ya!" Joan said as George stuffed the key inside his satchel once he was promptly thrown out of the shop.
George looked around the abandoned city square as he walked back to the castle. "What the hell was that all about?'' He asked himself. "And how the hell did that crazy woman know who I was?" his lone footsteps echoed on the empty stone.
He held the heart 0f evolution, staring at it in silent contemplation. It felt like there were all of these puzzle pieces scattered around him and some of feel like they go together but there was just something missing.
As George's mind wandered, he found himself at the entrance to the castle. The two guards standing beside each half of the door, sleepily greeted him.
"Huh, what?" he said, his tongue falling out the side of his mouth. "Oh yeah..." The two already drifting off to sleep guards grabbed their respective levers and opened the large door.
The inside of the castle was lit by the many candles and torches set up on the walls and hanging from the ceiling. George thought about just going back to his room and going to sleep but there was something that crazy lady at the shop had said that just itched at the back of his mind.
He passed by the usual rooms watching servants come in and out carrying all sorts of supplies. Some carried stacks of papers while others carried worn weapons. he barely payed any mind to it as he finally made the choice to continue from his room and 'wander' into the deeper parts of the castle.
As George continued to walk further and further into he castle, he found it increasingly odd that nobody had stopped him yet. The further he went the darker and more devoid of staff the halls became. Was it really worth it? Did he truly find it necessary to go out of his way to find a simple box in the bottom of this castle? He looked back to the dwindling light behind him as he kept moving forward. Soon he was walking along the right side of the pitch black hall. The hall seemed to expand infinitely into the darkness.
He wandered in that dark corridor for what felt like hours until his hand scraped against cold metal instead of the familiar mossy stone. He took a deep breath as he fumbled around for the handle and opened the door.
Inside the room was a small wooden desk with a lamp, a stack of matches, and a moderately sized red chest in the middle surrounded by empty bookshelves. George closed the door behind him and picked up the box of matches, striking on and lighting the lamp. In moments the room erupted with light as the fire crackled to life. After stumbling back a bit and letting his eyes adjust to the sudden change, George sat at the desk.
The first thing he examined was the box in the middle of the desk, its ornate keyhole was shaped strangely, unlike any common lock. "What the hell king of key goes here?" He asked himself as he then remembered the bronze key he was given. He tried to fit the normal looking key end into the lock to no avail. it was only when George inserted the G into the lock did the key slide inside, the lock clicking open.
George watched as the box slowly opened before him revealing its hidden contents. With baited breath he looked inside the chest only to be met with what looked like a series of letters and a green leatherbound journal.
"What? that's it?" George said taking out both the letters and the journal. he lifted the box and tipped it upside down, shaking it trying to shake any secret contents out. But there weren't any. With a huff, George set the box down onto the floor of the room.
"Well, lets at least see what these are for.." he said picking up the first of the two letters, the red wax crumbling underneath his nail. Opening the letter, George only saw an incomprehensible mad dash of gibberish that was unlike anything he'd ever read. "I- I can't read this..." He said as the first letter was set aside and went to open the second one. However as the wax crumbled he heard footsteps out beyond the room. In a mad dash, George collected the contents of the box, shoved them along with the key into his satchel and blew out the lamp, draping him in darkness.
With as much stealth as he could muster, he snuck out of the room and hid in the darkness of the corridor. On the other end was the familiar visage of the old Shamus, elegantly holding a torch in his right hand. George then crawled out of the darkness, a sheepish grin on his face as he apologized to the butler. "Ah sorry Shamus, I must've missed my room..." He rubbed the back of his head in an attempt to sell his excuse.
From underneath the large unibrow that dominated his face a singular eye appeared in a questioning manner before being covered once again. "Well then Master Devourer, if you'll follow me, I shall lead you back to your room."
Thankfully Shamus didn't ask George what he was doing in the castles depths but neither did he speak to him. The whole trip was covered in a thick suffocating silence between the two. When they arrived back to his room, Shamus simply gave his normal farewell: "Goodnight sir, may you sleep well."
When the butler left, George slumped onto the floor, letting out all the breath he had kept inside him. Once he stood back up, he placed his satchel on the back of the wooden chair in front of his personal desk.
Just like before, he sat down at the desk and used one of his nails to fully open the second letter. This time as he opened it a small monocle fell out before the contents of the letter did. When George opened the second letter, he was surprised to see such familiar writing. Then it dawned on him. It was his mother's handwriting. Not just that but he was able to read what was written too!
With wide eyes he read the letter to himself.
[Dear George,
I don't know when you'll receive this letter but hopefully I'll be the one to give it to you. You must know that the world you'll wake up to is much different than the one you and I left. Along the way you may meet many wonderful companions and have eventually made your way to this kingdom. In this world I am know as the Queen of Fire, Svyenna Bazelong. However one thing that will never change is how much I love you.
It pains me not to be able to see you smile and I look forward to the day where we will be reunited. You've probably had trouble reading most of the text of this world, right? Included with this letter you'll find a monocle that will help translate the writing for you! Think of it as one more gift before we meet again.
Be safe, stay strong, and most importantly, Mother loves you with all her heart.
Love, Mom.]
George began welling up in tears as the image of his mother with her wild luxurious hair flowing in the wind overlooking the city played in his mind. He hugged the letter tight as he smiled. He was overjoyed, finally some of the pieces began clicking into place!
He picked up the monocle again and dug around his bag for the first letter. When he opened it up it just seemed like the same old gibberish as before, until he put the monocle to his eye.
Strangely, it didn't seem like this was a letter and more of a journal entry moreover it wasn't her handwriting, it was someone elses, their writing was rougher, more jagged. His joy melted away slowly as he read the journal entry.
[Stargate 1776, year 1555
I've finally done it. With this the kingdom will be a much better place. That bitch was too weak to do what must be done. I did my best to stay on the sidelines but it's been enough. I've had enough. As I am writing this, the blood of those damned nobles flows upon the streets. They have run this kingdom into the fucking ground. I plan to burn all past artifacts of the previous Queen's rule. Quite fitting isn't it? The rule of the Queen of fire ends in a blaze.
It felt so good to wring the neck of such a weak-willed ruler. I'm sure master will make me the next king. He is the King Maker after all. He said he would make all my grandest ideals a reality, so this must all have been worth it, right?
Right?
B. Cabinruz]
Chapter 20 [A King in Fool's robes] end.