"Young knights, I will forever remember your valor in rescuing me," the poet declared, his voice adopting the rhythmic cadence of a practiced bard. Even though he was being dragged away by the soldiers of Dragon Throat City, his dignity seemed intact; at least in his own mind. "In time, a poem of your chivalry will spread across the continent, sung by every troubadour!"
His lofty words were abruptly cut off as one of the guards, clearly unimpressed, gave him a firm kick to the rear. "Shut up and get in," the soldier grunted, shoving the middle-aged poet into the dark cell. Goliad stumbled, his grand exit reduced to a pitiful fall as the heavy iron door clanged shut behind him.
No matter how renowned he was in some circles, the soldiers of Dragon Throat City had little patience for a man accused of seducing married women and abducting wives. It was a serious offense, and despite his flowery speeches, Goliad would be treated no differently from any common criminal until the matter was properly investigated.
Next to Goliad's cell, the thugs who had been caught in the kidnapping plot were tossed in with equal force, their complaints drowned out by the heavy thud of the barred door closing behind them. The poet's notoriety might make for good gossip, but it certainly wouldn't spare him now.
For Leon and his companions, the situation was relatively straightforward. After showing their documents proving their knighthood and receiving the testimony of the tavern owner, they were quickly cleared of any suspicion. The captain of the Dragon Throat Castle guard, impressed by their swift and decisive actions, personally saw to it that they were escorted back to the tavern with a level of respect befitting knights.
Their actions had been regarded as noble, akin to the valor of knights-errant who roamed the lands seeking to right wrongs. The captain was so enthusiastic about their intervention that he even offered to report their deed to the Dragon Throat City Council and secure a reward for them.
Leon politely declined, explaining that they had no time to linger in the city. "We'll be leaving by boat tomorrow," he insisted, waving off the captain's offer. Despite the captain's disappointment, Leon and his companions couldn't afford to be tangled up in a bureaucratic process.
Before parting ways, curiosity got the better of Leon. He approached the captain, asking about the strange entanglement he had stumbled into. After a brief chat over drinks in the tavern, Leon learned that the middle-aged poet, Goliad, was a man of considerable fame, though not all of it positive.
Goliad was, indeed, renowned across the continent, but not just for his poetic talent. His reputation, as Leon discovered, was far more complicated. "He's one of those poets who has immense talent," the captain of the guard explained, nursing his drink with a chuckle. "But absolutely no sense of moral restraint."
Leon raised an eyebrow. "How so?"
The captain sighed and leaned back in his chair. "He's known for not being able to keep his pants on. Offended a lot of important people over the years. Nobles, wealthy merchants; anyone whose wives or daughters caught his eye."
Despite this scandalous reputation, Goliad's poetic gifts were undeniable. His skill with words could move even the most hardened heart, and many were willing to overlook his personal failings in exchange for his talents. "You see," the captain continued, "there are still plenty of nobles and wealthy folk who don't care about his… extracurricular activities. They invite him to their banquets, hoping to hear him recite poems and leave behind a verse or two."
Leon frowned. "And what about the boss those thugs mentioned? The one who hired Goliad?"
"Ah, yes," the captain replied, his tone darkening. "That would be a local merchant. Made his fortune in maritime trade over the last couple of years. Not much of a name for himself outside of his business, but he managed to climb the ranks quickly."
Apparently, the merchant had invited Goliad to his home, hoping to elevate his social status by hosting the famous bard. But things had taken a scandalous turn when the poet not only overstayed his welcome but also allegedly seduced the merchant's wife. The wealthy woman had since disappeared, leaving the merchant to deal with the shame and rumors.
"For whatever reason, the merchant never reported the incident to the guards," the captain said, swirling his drink thoughtfully. "Maybe out of pride or embarrassment. But one of the thugs we captured seemed pretty certain about Goliad's involvement."
Leon sat back, processing the information. This entire situation had spiraled into a tangled web of scandal, deceit, and misplaced honor. He couldn't help but feel a bit regretful for stepping into something so convoluted, but at the very least, it had been resolved without bloodshed.
The night in Dragon Throat City had been eventful, to say the least, but Leon was more than ready to leave the drama behind. Tomorrow, they would set sail, and with any luck, the saga of Goliad, the seductive poet, would become just another story lost in the wind.
Word quickly spread about the scandal that had unfolded in Mr. Rotty's household—a story as bizarre as it was humiliating for the wealthy merchant. According to gossip, Goliad, the infamous bard, had spent most of his time at Mr. Rotty's estate shamelessly flirting with the man's wife. It seemed the bard's usual charms were at play, but this time, things escalated beyond harmless flirtation.
The morning after the wife was last seen, Mr. Rotty, red with rage, had stormed into her chambers only to find Goliad in a state of disarray. The room was a mess, but what was more shocking was the poet himself, disheveled and very much naked, scrambling out of the window with his bare behind exposed to the world. His wife, however, was nowhere to be found.
Witnesses claimed that the sight of Goliad's escape had been both scandalous and comical, with many servants catching glimpses of the bard fleeing in such a ridiculous manner. The whole incident quickly became the talk of the city, though the true details of what had happened between Goliad and the merchant's wife remained murky at best. Chaos reigned, yet it was a chaos that defied easy explanation.
Fortunately for Leon, the bizarre episode did not weigh on his mind for long. After a night of deep sleep, he put the whole matter behind him. Whatever punishment awaited Goliad would be dealt with by the laws of Dragon Throat City, if the poet was guilty of abduction, he'd face justice soon enough.
The following day, Leon, Brandon, and Liam boarded their ship as planned. The merchant vessel, heavy with goods and provisions, began its slow departure from the dock, sailing westward along the Rusina River toward the open sea.
For Brandon and Liam, it was their first glimpse of the vast ocean, and the sight captivated them. They lingered on the deck for hours, taking in the endless expanse of blue sky merging with the deep waters. The wind was fresh, the sea stretching out before them like an endless canvas.
Leon, however, was less impressed. In his previous life, he had already seen the ocean and knew the novelty would wear off soon enough. He could sense that the days ahead would bring a dull monotony, even more so than traveling on land. And, as expected, it didn't take long for the two younger knights to lose interest. By midday, their excitement had faded, and they retreated from the deck, already tired of the unchanging view.
The next few days on board became a routine of boredom and restlessness. The group spent their time playing chess, taking naps, and occasionally joining in on the wrestling matches the sailors organized to pass the time. However, since none of them were interested in gambling, they found themselves excluded from many of the sailors' other pastimes.
Though the water route was faster than traveling by land, the long days at sea felt like an eternity. The endless horizon, coupled with the isolation aboard the ship, began to wear on them. The salty sea breeze, once refreshing, became just another reminder of how slow time seemed to move.
Eventually, after what felt like an age, the ship finally arrived at the largest port on the western coast of the Kingdom of Kantadar. As they approached the harbor, the scene before them was bustling with life. Countless ships of various sizes lined the docks, their masts towering high as seabirds swooped down, resting momentarily before taking off again. The city was a hive of activity, its people moving about like ants in a busy nest, tending to the demands of trade and commerce.
Western Port had always been an important center of trade, but in recent days, it was livelier than ever. It wasn't just the ships bringing goods from distant lands that made the city hum with excitement, it was the grand celebration being prepared by the ruling Falcon family.
The wedding of Count Felcon's heir was imminent, and nobles from far and wide were streaming into the city to attend the grand event. Despite the ongoing war in the eastern regions of the kingdom, the importance of the Western Port had never been greater. King Aviut himself had sent royal envoys long before the conflict began, securing alliances and ensuring the city's strategic value remained intact.
Now, with resources, powerful weapons, and goods flowing into the port from distant empires, the Western Port had become the lifeblood of the kingdom. It rivaled even the royal capital in significance. The Falcon family's sprawling castle, built atop the cliffs overlooking the sea, stood as a testament to the family's wealth and influence. Servants and slaves bustled day and night, preparing for the wedding, ensuring that every guest was welcomed with the utmost care.
As their ship finally docked and the three companions prepared to disembark, the grandeur of the city's celebrations hung in the air like an invisible curtain, drawing them into the heart of the kingdom's most vital and bustling hub.
At that moment, amid the bustling celebrations and preparations taking place throughout the castle, only the foreign guests staying in the secluded eastern courtyards found solace in undisturbed peace. The rest of the castle was a hive of activity, filled with nobles, soldiers, and servants scurrying about, but here, tranquility reigned.
A warrior, clad in sleek black and gold armor, stood sentinel at the entrance to one of these courtyards. His posture was rigid, his gaze sharp as it swept over the steady flow of troops and nobles in the distance. His expression, however, was one of disdain. To him, these Kantadar rulers, these self-proclaimed nobles, were little more than monkeys draped in fine clothes. The contrast between their pompous airs and the solemn duty of the black-armored guards was stark.
Inside the courtyard, shielded from the noise of the festivities, a blond boy walked quietly. He wore a form-fitting corset, his golden hair catching the light as he moved along a path of intricately carved stone, flanked by manicured gardens of shrubs and flowers. The carefully maintained beauty of the place did little to soothe the weight in his heart.
The boy's steps quickened as he neared a hidden corner of the garden. There, by the base of a grand statue, he found the figure he had been seeking; a young woman, her shoulders shaking as she sat behind the statue, sobbing quietly.
"Elena?" he called softly, his voice barely louder than the breeze that rustled the leaves.
The woman; Elena, stopped at the sound of his voice. She turned, her tear-streaked face gazing up at him, her eyes red and pained. The boy sighed, stepping closer.
"Are you still thinking of your family?" he asked gently, his voice filled with understanding.
Elena's lips quivered as she spoke, her voice fragile and trembling. "I... I had another nightmare," she whispered, struggling to keep her composure. "I dreamt of my brother again. I just... I just hope he's still alive. That he's safe."
She wasn't surprised that he had found her here. The boy, Corvis, was one of the few people she could confide in; someone who shared in her suffering. His presence had become a small comfort amidst the chaos of her life.
Corvis crouched beside her, offering a soft, sympathetic smile. "I don't want to disturb you, but... the master returns tonight. He's requested both of us." His voice was regretful, understanding her need for space but knowing their time was not their own. "We need to prepare."
Elena wiped at her eyes and gave a nod, though her smile was strained. "I understand. Thank you, Corvis."
The boy stood, giving her a moment to compose herself. Without another word, he turned and left, his footsteps fading away, leaving Elena in silence once more.
For a few moments, she remained where she was, breathing deeply, trying to push down the sorrow that threatened to overwhelm her. Slowly, she rose to her feet, brushing the last of her tears away. As she straightened her posture, a soft, melancholy song drifted toward her from above.
"The song of fate is unpredictable,
A sad melody,
As smiles fade in fleeting illusions,
And whispers are carried by the sun, moon, and stars..."
The voice was low and haunting, the melody weaving through the quiet courtyard like a ghostly echo. Surprised, Elena looked up toward the battlements of the castle, where a cliff dropped steeply behind it.
There, perched on the wall, was a man dressed in vibrant clothing, his bright garments contrasting with the sorrowful tune he strummed on a small lute. His face was solemn, his eyes distant as he sang, his curly mustache twitching with each word.
"Ah~, sad little robin~" he crooned softly.
Startled and confused, Elena called out to him. "Sir, who are you?" Her voice trembled with uncertainty. She had never seen this man before, and his sudden appearance left her puzzled.
The poet's lips curled into a small, whimsical smile, his mustache lifting with the motion. With an air of theatrical grace, he removed the feathered hat from his head and gave a deep bow, the feather bobbing as he did so.
"Goliad," he introduced himself, his voice smooth and melodic. "A humble poet, at your service, madam. A pleasure to make your acquaintance."
Elena's wide eyes remained fixed on him, her mind racing as she tried to understand how someone so... eccentric had appeared so suddenly in a place that had been her hidden refuge.