When Zeph entered the throne room, he noticed King Sheward looking outside the castle from his open balcony. His undercover guise gone, the king was in his royal purple robe wearing his golden crown ornate in amethysts, citrines and garnets. He clutched his round golden scepter in his hand like he needed it for walking and not for show. Sensing this was not a casual visit, Zeph had already put his official uniform on before coming in to see him. Once King Sheward detected Zeph's presence, he loosened his grip. "Guardian Zephyr Smilliat." His hands folded together on top of the scepter.
Zeph lowered himself on one leg with his left hand touching the ground. He bowed his head toward King Sheward showing his loyalty and readiness to listen.
The King stared at Zeph, but with a quirk of his eyebrow, said the words Zeph had feared would come out one day. "Guardian Zephyr Smiliat, I know your secret."
Zeph lost his senses and got up off his knee. He cursed himself for overreacting with such an action. Perhaps it was something else? "Majesty."
"I have classified information on your family history." King Sheward leaned his scepter against the wall. "I know the truth about your tail."
Zeph did not speak or move himself, but his tail frizzled up like a terrified feline; its hairs arched up. He didn't shift his body weight or his head, merely glanced around the area with his eyes. He knew no one was allowed into the King's throne room without authority, but paranoia set in. If King Sheward was safe there, he shouldn't worry. He tried to convince himself of that, but sharing secrets never felt safe. His voice came back softer and less confident than he had aimed for. "My tail is different."
"It's colored," King Sheward said as he grabbed his own silver furry tail. "I'm betting it's ringed Judging by your hair, turquoise. I'm right, aren't I?" King Sheward nudged him. "You have pure lineage!"
Zeph glanced around again, instinctively going on alert again. That was not a statement he wanted shouted.
"Don't worry," the King said, beaming at Zeph as if he was a prize. "Your secret is safe, but I have a mission for you."
Zeph's tail stopped frizzing as he heard that. He relaxed his position. "What is it you need of me, sire?"
The King's mouth quirked up, but something was amiss. A suspicious type of grin, hiding something beneath the royal facade. He pulled Zeph over and they began to walk. "It's easy, Guard. Come over-"
King Sheward stopped mid-conversation as his son Regwallis ran into the room and tripped him on accident.
"Sorry!" Regwallis apologized. Prince Regwallis turned toward his father, his chubby face now red. His burgundy hat and royal puffy clothing were gone, replaced with a pair of overalls and a tattered shirt. Zeph knew these things would not please King Sheward, let alone being tripped. In his Guardian circle of friends, he was often called the royal tripper.
King Sheward dusted himself off, then his attention focused on Prince Regwallis. "I am in the middle of something important, find somewhere else to play."
Regwallis waved his tail around as he pointed toward the left where building blocks were scattered around the floor. "Mommy said I could play with blocks."
"I am busy," King Sheward said with a stern look toward his son. "Go play elsewhere, son."
"Mommy said I could play here." Prince Regwallis cracked a devilish quirk toward his father as he looked between Zeph and him. "You don't want to make Mommy mad, do you?"
Zeph did not show his emotions, but partly wanted to laugh. Prince Regwallis took after Queen Trivelle more than King Sheward. A rebellious nature, this natural tendency to challenge becoming more steady each day. Prince Regwallis would be an excellent king one day, as long as he grew out of his spoiled nature. As it stood, he was still a small child, simply learning how to spell.
King Sheward rubbed his neck, the ploy about Queen Trivelle working. "Go to the corner and play then, Regwallis." He looked at Zeph again. "Follow me."
Zeph strolled over towards the left to the throne. Right beside the throne was the golden book of lineage. Thought to be used only for census, it lay with its pages closed to the world. As he examined the sheer size of it, King Sheward spoke.
"Our lineage has been recorded since the first king crowned. Our race is fading away, but there are others like you." The King opened the book, to the middle where a bronze bookmark had been placed. Zeph scanned over pages with his mind, catching various amounts of mixed race beside names. "There are others who are pure lineage, but they are low in numbers." The King placed his finger below a name at the middle of a page. Zeph couldn't believe what he saw: Another who had no waryes blood within their family line.
"Your mission is to talk to this one." The King pointed to the name beside the percentage. "Saga. Last of her lineage as well." He broke his serious face and hit Zeph on the back. "How would you like a one year vacation, all expenses paid, yeah? Talk to her and make her agree to one thing."
Zeph nodded. A vacation was rare, and this must be important enough to offer such a thing. "Sire, what is it you need her to agree too?"
Before King Sheward could speak, a large feminine voice bellowed his name. Zeph saw a flinch from King Sheward and knew the shrill voice belonged to none other than Queen Trivelle. The queen marched in so fast that her silver crown almost toppled over. "Sheward, I'm not dealing with that alien," she announced as her hand moved to hold her crown in place.
"The human, majesty?" Zeph asked. What could the human have done to Queen Trivelle to make her so angry?
"Oh no Guardian, the human was cute, I liked him." The queen pointed behind herself. "Sheward, the Fala ambassador, march out and take care of her."
King Sheward took a step back with an uncomfortable chuckle. "She arrived? Wonderful. Dear, if you could do me the honor of calling her here, I will take care of it." He nodded to Zeph. "You may stay."
I could, your majesty, but umm...I'm training a recruit." Zeph refused the invitation, but not in time as he felt something brush up against his tail.
"Oh, hi! Don't you have a cute furry tail. Too bad it's not puffier, but it's soft." A light and airy voice came from behind him, and Zeph knew it was anything except. The voice was almost soft and fairy like, but the creature behind him would not be. He turned around, grabbing his own tail and holding it close. Holding another's tail was not done in jest, but he would have to forgive the foreigner. A creature from Fala was not to be messed with. He turned and looked upward, trying to be polite and meet it face to face.
Its head was ducked into the room, slightly coming up and outward with a large, rough hand. Dressed for battle, and a face that resembled it had been in a war, it smiled jaggedly. Barely making it through the elegant royal doors with over a twelve foot entrance to match the spacious height of the room. Zeph felt sick as he thought of the large crusted hand that had brushed upon his tail.
"Welcome," King Sheward held out his arms wide to the Fala. "I am glad you accepted our invitation. I apologize for the lack of accommodating space."
Invitation? Zeph gawked at King Sheward. The planet of Fala had never been invited more than once into their reign. They were unusual aliens with powerful armies and they were technical geniuses but they lacked basic civility.
The Fala held her hand up and pushed her whole body into the room. In her other hand, she held a small cup, restricting her from a traditional hug. "Yes, let's begin. Now, this treaty you want to sign with our planet?" The Fala took a sip from her cup. "We don't mind making it, in fact, we are actually overjoyed." She reached down and shook the King's hand. "Trade of your livestock and your flowers and protecting you from invading planets and you know, that kind of stuff and stuff. So, when are you coming? We have tons of space for all you warnos. One or two for each house."
Each house? Zeph glanced to the King as he tapped his foot lightly. The Falas wouldn't treat warnos like equals, or even less than equals. They'd be treated like pets. Collared, fed pet food, and forced to do tricks like a canine.
"We're not coming," King Sheward reasoned with her making small hand gestures. "You see, ambassador-"
"Fala lalaa lalafa please," the Fala ambassador insisted. "No reason to get too formal with my whole name."
"Yes." King Sheward tried to keep his face straight but it failed. "My citizens would only come to your planet in a state of emergency."
"Well." The Fala blew hair out of her face. "I guess. We'll send papers and stuff like that to you guys soon. Our leader is still doing his own thing, so he only wanted time...and what was I saying?" She shook her head. "Oh yeah, ummm...go ahead and fix a treaty and we'll sign it. But see, okay I can't. Our leader has to do it. You know, the signing thing? So we'll get back to you in a couple months because there is uhh...you know, that whole mineral dilemma thing? Inhibitor, right? Without that you guys are like insane, and stupid, right?"
"We will work out the details," King Sheward said as he shook the ambassador's hand. "Thank you for your visit."
"Sure, no problem." The Fala ambassador twirled hair around her large, crusted finger. "You know, I'd love a second cup of this stuff. It was sweet, but metallic. Can I have some more? Oh that reminds me! Your grass too, can we have some more seeds of plumblu? Our planet sold out of them long ago. I wish our grass was like that, it's just straight out a dull dark pink." The ambassador looked around wistfully. "Such a gorgeous planet filled with colors. Ours is pink, everything is pink. Oh." She sighed with a small giggle. "You're lucky no one has taken over you yet. My planet would gobble this up in seconds, if you weren't so darn cute."
"Well, thank you?" King Sheward said with a small nod. "I will have my guards drop off plumblu seeds along with products through the transporter later." He waved over to his guard. "Please fetch the ambassador more water."
The Fala ambassador took the colorful prism water with glee but sipped. "I love this, I love the swirly colors and I love the taste but it's making me tipsy. You know, you could get more marketing if you sold this in your trade product line."
"No," King Sheward said as he shook his head, "it has a potential risk of killing weaker aliens with a single drop. Our water becomes more poisonous every year."
"Okay, but I'm saying, natural alcohol could really pull some treaties to you." She finished her drink and dropped it, expecting someone to clean it up. "Bye then." The ambassador shook King Sheward's hand and bent down to look at Zeph. He remained still, hoping she didn't touch his tail again. "I can't get over it. He's got a full uniform on with a vest and pants, and he looks like he wants to be a fighter. Awww, I wish I had a camera." She waved to Zeph like he was an infant. "Bye bye." She hummed as she left the throne room.
King Sheward cleared his throat as he paid attention to Zeph again. "Our situation is desperate. Earlier treaties have fallen through. We are susceptible to attack right now, and like it or not," he gestured toward the door where the Fala ambassador left, "we're down to unfavorable options." He scratched his neck. "With business out of the way though, let's concentrate on you. This female, Saga, yes? We want to convince her to settle down and have children." He put his hands out in front with his palms up. "She keeps refusing, but that's all we want. I have even offered to pay her, but she won't budge. Perhaps if she talked to you, she'd think differently about her duty to this kingdom."
Zeph listened to details of his mission but felt skeptical. It was an easy mission and any Guardian should have been able to do it. He bowed courteously to King Sheward right before he left, still feeling something was wrong. King Sheward must have had a more important reason for what he was asking.
The mission was too simple.