The knights gracefully deposited them at the castle gates, an imposing yet elegant structure that stood tall and mighty, radiating an air of majesty.
"Let's get inside."
Proceeding through the gates without hindrance, they observed the guards bowing in deference, sparking curiosity among the youths. Their questioning glances toward Finn, who appeared remarkably relaxed, prompted him to address their unspoken inquiries.
"Are you all just going to keep staring at me, or are you going to ask me what's on your mind?" Finn spoke calmly, his tone now carrying a touch of superiority.
Who exactly are you?" Timothy asked, as he had his own guesses but couldn't be sure until Finn answered him.
"Oh, that... you will find out pretty soon."
They walked into the palace with Timothy and the rest busy looking at everything within. Inside, there was a huge golden statue of a man holding a massive battle axe and a shield.
"To you, we are devoted."
Finn, Elaine, and Ver bowed to the statue, then turned to look at Timothy and Jake, who stood there watching them pay their respects to the deity Zebha.
"You are not believers?" Finn asked.
"No, I'm not," Timothy answered. "I believe... but not in him," Jake added, startling Finn and the rest.
As they stood in the majestic hall, footsteps resounded, and the doors opened. Four men and two women dressed in royal clothing approached them. The men wore crowns, and the women wore tiaras. All of them had a slight resemblance to Finn. The men's clothing consisted of a coat, waistcoat, and breeches, also including a pair of silk stockings, a jabot, a linen shirt with decorative cuffs, and a cravat (a neckcloth), with the only difference being the color of their coats. The women wore beautiful gowns and many accessories; their earrings were made of a rare material.
"Greetings, elder brother." They all bowed in sync as if every action of theirs was rehearsed.
Finn only gave a slight nod before looking at the teenagers behind him.
"These are my siblings, but it seems like one of them is not around."
"Elder brother, who are these fine young ones you've brought with you?" a man in a red coat asked.
"None of your business, Derrick. I do not answer to you," Finn replied.
"Forgive him, elder brother; it's just that we are all so curious," a man in a blue coat spoke.
"Derrick, Bernard, that's enough!" A middle-aged woman in a blue gown said as she descended the stairs. Finn seemed to resemble her a lot.
She looked at Finn with a smile before approaching him with a hug.
"Mother, how are you?" Finn spoke as he hugged his mother.
"I am fine, son," she said as she let him go before turning to look at Timothy and his two friends.
"Greetings, young ones. I am Queen Cassandra Zaloz."
"Greetings, noble Queen," they all said with a bow.
"I am Ver of House Potter," she said.
"I'm Jake, no family name," Jake bowed.
"Timothy, no family name," he bowed.
The queen looked at Timothy and Jake before speaking.
"You two resemble some of my old friends. Come, your father is waiting for you."
They all followed the queen up the stairs, while Timothy looked at Finn's back, seemingly proud that his guess about Finn's identity was spot on. They entered the throne room; it had three pillars and a curtain behind the throne that was on a huge platform with six steps and a red carpet. The throne had a round top, and on both sides of the seat were armrests, with a black dragon standing behind it, looking alive. On the throne sat a middle-aged man with short blonde hair and a scar on his left eye. He was wearing blue robes with a calm look on his face as he looked at them. This man was the king of Zebha and also the father of Finn.
"Greetings, father." Finn bowed his head, the grandeur of the throne room casting long shadows across the marble floor.
"Greetings, Lord Zaloz." The teens synchronized their bow, the hushed rustle of their clothing echoing in the regal chamber.
"You've returned once again, son. How long this time?" His father's smile illuminated the room, his deep voice resonating as though the very walls held tales of his rule.
"I do not know, father. Perhaps a mere span of days or weeks," Finn responded with a light chuckle, the weight of responsibility momentarily lifted.
"You must cease evading your duties; you're the crown prince, my successor." The king's words carried a weighty seriousness.
Finn nodded, then launched into the account of his perilous journey. Shock flickered across Timothy's face, realizing the near-fatal encounter at their desert camp was concealed from him. Finn concluded the narrative, meeting his father's initially stormy gaze, now calmed.
"It seems like the prophesied war has already started. Alert the dragons; we will need their strength. You are dismissed." The command echoed, punctuating the urgency of the impending conflict.
They all bowed and left. Finn led them to the guest wing and assigned them different rooms next to each other. The guest rooms bore the same design, a huge bed with the finest quality of sheets and not much furniture. Finn addressed them quickly ,
"Clean up and rest; I'll have your food brought to you. Oh, and don't wander around the castle... if you have anything to say, save it for tomorrow." With that, he turned around and left.
They all proceeded to their assigned rooms. Later at night Timothy laid in bed thinking about a single thing ,he didn't care too much about Finn's problems nor were they of any interest to him. The only thing that was occupying his mind was that strange dream.
"It doesn't help thinking about it; it won't help with anything."
He though to himself before getting up from his bed and immersed himself with training his body.