Craggle and I strolled through the town's square, the acute whirring sounds of nearby contraptions, and the indistinct crowded murmurs that can be heard from a mile away all combining into this one massive amalgamation of audible mess.
"Hey Nel."
Craggle called out to me.
"Do you really think it's possible for you to reach Valeria?"
"That's not me saying that as a way to undermine your talents, but Nel, Valeria is a tall tale sung by the worthy."
"Men for hire aren't exactly your average, everyday Valerians."
You don't say..
"Are you calling me a man for hire Craggle?"
I asked offhandedly in a neutral tone. Not even bothering to look at him directly.
Cragle froze.
"N-No of course not!"
"I would never!"
Craggle's body language said otherwise.
Crazy part is, Craggle wasn't necessarily wrong so to say.
I was the only person amongst my peers growing up who was unable to become an Awakened.
No matter how many men I have slain, how much blood has been shed, I was never able to break free from the shackles of being labeled an Unawakened.
Each time I went to sign up to become a registered Awakened, as I placed my hand on the runic crystal, my affinity would always read -
[ 0 ] ! ! !
Something never before seen in history. What luck I guess.
But Craggle knew very well that ever since he first brought me in as a child that Valeria was my one and only dream.
So it's safe to say that Cragge would never diminish something that personal to me.
But on the other hand, I just couldn't resist pushing his buttons.
"Never mind."
Craggle held back his words in order to ease the nature of the exchange.
Groups of armed men draped in robes and steel arm bracers not only guard, but also survey the alleyways and building tops, actively greeting all passers as they come through town square.
All of them, happily bestowed with the title of Awakened.
I scoffed as I walked by, jealousy seeping in.
The sound of many, stomping feet made my head spin as those same hundreds of people continued on, walking straight past me and Craggle as they went about their day.
Craggle let out a yawn of pent up tension, stretching out his arms widely in a circular motion as he walked.
Looking around, I could see your typical human, then as more people passed by, I saw loads of elves, trolls, beastkin, and much more. I don't think i'll ever get used to seeing that.
Craggle looked up vacantly to the welcoming sky.
His mouth now a gaping hole at the sight of the sunny weather. It's noon now, but good luck telling him that.
It looks like his perception of time is lost in a daze due to all the walking, horse carriage riding, and coin scouring we had to do to make it here.
Stopping in his tracks, a blank expression sat atop his face as he basked in the pure delight of today's solemnity.
The wind breezed past his hardened pale skin.
Craggle had a habit of enjoying things as they came, something I can safely I more or less adapted from him as well.
He did not care what the time was, nor did he care what others thought of him.
He was always that type of man. Craggle picked up pace once more, catching up to me with ease as we strolled through town.
The hazy sky had a melancholic ambience to it, but I had no interest in daydreaming. I had business to settle.
Hm..??
The wandering eyes and indistinct chattering of passing civilians didn't stop for anyone, but as I drew closer to the ever-growing crowd of people, eyes latched onto me and Craggle.
People jumped and shrieked in terror, their eyes huge and filled with a fright.
More eyes, and more comments as I passed by, all pointed at one thing.
Hooked to my hip was the decapitated head of Darric the Butcher; blood still fresh and all. His eyes were also permanently stuck rolled into the back of his eyelids
Tons of people crowded in one after another to see what all the commotion was about, each of them stopping as soon as they saw what they wished they hadn't.
I looked straight ahead, unbothered by the unwanted glares, meanwhile Craggle looked up around at the crowds of people before us. His brow fixed into a raised one.
"It appears that we've drawn quite the attention to ourselves if i'd say so myself."
Craggle let loose one of his witty quips.
"I couldn't care less."
I responded.
"Of course you don't care. You never do."
Craggle sighed as he looked up at me.
The more we walked, the more expansive the town got.
Solim had always been a kingdom of glory and nobility, but I never stopped to take in just how magnificent it really was.
It wasn't the largest of them all, but in the context of our country of Merania, it was large enough to demand respect and allyship from the neighboring nations, which was surprising for a kingdom of trade.
A kingdom built of polished stone, where wyverns carried supplies along the skies and flew overhead, and that's not even mentioning the fact all the buildings around had very little noticeable flaws to them.
So imagine the shock on my face the first time I ever stepped foot in this place and passed the South Gate and it only got more beautiful.
Witnessing it for yourself was a pleasure unlike any other. As you passed the South Gate, the town square transitioned nicely into Calix, the capital of Solim.
Towers positioned themselves everywhere you could and couldn't see, equipped horses trotted around the place walking alongside their owner, and so much more.
Solim had the atmosphere of a place unique to all others; it was different. But that wasn't enough to quell my hatred for this rotten place.
Craggle let out a hushed yawn that was barely even noticeable from where I was right beside him.
Fixating his gaze right in front of us, Craggle could no longer hold back his impatience.
"Hmph. I always hated how far the palace was from the entrance."
"But on the other hand, we wouldn't want anything happening to the king I suppose. Heh. Right Nel?"
He scratched his bald head and looked at me. He then looked into my eyes, a fiery rage burning deep inside.
"Oh right. You and him don't exactly get along that well I suppose."
He said as he nervously twiddled his fingers. I kept quiet for a bit, making it appear as if I was ignoring Craggle until I spoke.
"We're here."
I relayed to Craggle so he could look ahead.
Towering over us was a palace that was almost like a refined citadel with large golden steps leading to an even larger entrance.
The doors were titan-sized and functioned mechanically with runic components created by harnessing residual mana from the Ancient.
The palace itself branched into many separate sections, all belonging exclusively to the royal family and his highness.
Guards were positioned nearly a mile out to ensure not only was the palace protected, but also the path to it.
They lined the walls, the corners, the roofs, and nearly every inch of the palace; transforming it into a nigh impenetrable fortress.
It was a creation that I could tell you personally was marvelous from the outside, and even better on the inside.
And since i've been here more times than I can count, I was given select permission to enter the palace only whenever the king would call for me.
Not when I wanted to.
Something i've always disliked from the beginning.
My attitude wouldn't let me look in the direction of any of the guards as me and Craggle paced towards the giant entrance.
We made our way up the steps, lugging with us whatever we had on us, stopping with one last stomp as we met face to face with the stone doors.
The guards didn't move a muscle, they simply looked ahead, and as we came to meet the entrance, they both in unison forcefully slammed the bottoms of their golden spears on the hard stone with sharp grip.
The slams weren't done with any force out of the ordinary, but somehow they still managed to cause the ground to rumble.
A mesmerizing light glowed throughout the small cracks in the palace doors, all the way up until the top of its edges.
The doors slowly began to open, cold air seeped out washing over both me and Craggle at the same time.
My cloak shielding my face and body as best it could, but without even needing to look, I could tell the shivering Craggle wasn't as fortunate.
We stepped in, a long drawn out scarlet rug leading us through an even longer drawn out corridor that ended at another set of doors; this time wooden.
The interior was pristine like you would imagine.
Brown wood bled out towards the entrance doors in a way only a master architect could execute.
The hallway itself though was painfully eerie. Portraits of household figures traced the walls, twinkling light illuminated the dark spots, gold and silver hung from every nook and cranny.
Serpent symbolism embedded in the walls gave off indescribable energy, and to top it all off, two emotionless guards waited at the end of it all.
I walked further ahead without looking back. Though Craggle stayed behind slightly, I guess the design work caught his eye.
Craggle shot up when he saw how far behind he had gotten, hopping forward with speed in order to catch back up.
I gave one of the guards a stern stare down when I stopped, but he still wouldn't give me any acknowledgement. I hated that.
The two guards, once again, acted in perfect sync, using only one hand from each to push open the double-set doors.
Bright gold light struck me in the eyes, and a noble aroma smashed against my nostrils as it leaked from inside the main throne room.
"Hmph."
I grunted walking past the two guards.
What angered me was not that they were seemingly whipped into pitch perfect condition by their Solim king, but that when you truly think about it, me and their situation may not really be that different.
Looking back ahead, me and Craggle entered the throne room of the palace.
And what we saw was exactly what I always loathed.
The throne room was huge. The largest room in the entire palace to be exact.
The ceiling reached the heavens and the massive windows of reflective glass turned the room into a sanctuary.
And most importantly, in the center of the throne room was a huge monument that looked like an actual make-shift pedestal.
It was a stylish model of countless golden stairs that met the ceiling half-way.
Atop it sat a great throne of plush, crimson red cushions, golden serpent detailings, and a finishing touch of that royal glimmer.
Many other seats were laid out across the room in a formation surrounding the king's seat of honor, all filled by members of the Solim bloodline.
Some obviously of more significance than others, particularly the ones which sat atop pillars.
Only a small measure away from the king's throne. such as the Duke's seat, and the Queen's seat, which was currently unmarked.
Many eyes stared me down as the royal Solim household all caressed their chins and beards at the sight of me.
Going down the line, they all looked at each other then back at me, whispering amongst one another as if placing their last judgements on me.
However, the only gaze that remained steady even amongst commotion, was the king's.
A wondrous seat to take, accompanied by a winsome view to go along with it.
The downside to that being that those said to take on that seat are seemingly agreeing to a life-long contract of being isolated from the rest of earth's humanity.
Sweat dripped from my pores and the continuous sound of a clock ticking down looped on replay.
Pointless chatter carried on with no sign of stopping, that was until the king cleared his throat, and raised his pointer finger. Ceasing all commotion with no effort.
"Ahem."
". . ."
"Nel. My beloved. Atlas you've arrived."
An echoing voice from above spoke to me in parts.
"And it appears you've brought along your little friend. Does he come bearing gifts?"
The king smiled and dragged his finger over to Craggle who didn't know how to respond.
The king had a short, petite figure with waves of long silky blonde hair, who took pleasure in the gratification of their own existence.
Their persistent words and tone of unmatched elegance and wise passivity loudly echoing throughout the ominous palace.
The king's light-toned hair was so long, it covered every corner of the entire throne, and fell to the floor of the pedestal-like pillar.
He had soft, flawless skin, and wrapped tightly around his forehead was the band of Solim leadership that embodied the crest bestowed only to the true king of the Solim land.
He also wore huge, dangling earrings that stunk of the corrupt smell of indiscriminate amounts of wealth.
I bowed before the enormous pillar of a throne. My hand across my chest, and my eyes directed towards the ground. Just the way it was supposed to be.
"I come to give you what you want, Lucien."
Skipping over his question, I spoke in a tone many wouldn't dare do to a king.
"Give me what I want? You mean what we want."
"You'd do well to remember that our arrangement was one that remains entirely mutual Nel.
"Even all those years ago when you were just a poor little boy with a blade, screaming tales about Valeria."
He responded, now resting his raised arm on his throne.
"You make it seem like i'm the one whooping you into submission, when in truth, it is I who takes the role of the dog in this settlement."
"I mean think about it. Who else do you know just gets to speak to me so freely. You even had the audacity to call me by my given name."
He continued on. Patterning in a rhythmic sequence on the throne's frame, his soft fingers glided quietly along the frame's smooth surface.
He loved to do this. He loved to hear himself talk. That was who he was. A talker.
Lucien Arthur Solim The IV.
Lord of the Solim dominion, who is not only a registered A+ rank Awakened, but also the oldest offspring of Charles Solim, the previous emperor of Solim and long-standing member of the High Blade.
Notably, he's also the same age as me.
Making him the youngest king to ever sit on the throne of Solim.
Tucked away inside a prodigious residence which remained utterly desolate, Lucien was the epitome of spoiled.
Given anything he could ever dream of since an infant, Lucien never had to worry about not getting what he wanted.
He lived a life that put even other nobles alike to shame.
Lucien shifted in his seat, and even from where my eyes were aimed, I can tell where his gaze was pointed.
The condescending weight that Lucien's eyes carried felt like boulders on my back.
Craggle stood beside me, still confused on what exactly to do in this scenario.
"So what are you getting at Lucien?"
My voice turned into a low growl that made the question almost seem like an order.
"All i'm asking is that you show a little more enthusiasm, my cherished Nel."
"I mean, you are the prized possession of Solim."
"Lord knows how many heads you've truly delivered to us in the holy name of the land of evolution."
Lucien spoke back.
"A couple more decades and I anticipate that you would have been able to climb the ranks and achieve the title of commander."
He added.
"Miss me with your jokes Lucien, a deal's a deal. I bring you your trophies, and you tell me how to get to Valeria."
I finally had enough of Lucien's games back and forth.
I slowly arose to my feet, ripping Darric The Butcher's head from my waist, and showcasing it to the crowd of Solim nobles.
"Yes, yes. I know Nel. However, before I do that, there's just one little detail I must alert you of."
Lucien's speaking pace slowed a suspicious amount.
Silence completely filled the humongous throne room, and as our eyes met, Lucien let off a twisted grin just as I sensed a nearby presence bolting in my direction.
Craggle jumped back, taking off running in the direction opposite of us, only to be swiftly caught and apprehended by the guards placed at the doors.
I retrieved my blade from my back in an instant, blocking the attempted ambush by a sliver of a margin.
A loud metallic clang echoed throughout the space as our blades met, the collision sending both me and the assailant sliding backwards.
Parallel to me was a guard with a distinct golden sigil carved into his forehead.
[ STRIKE ]
So many things clouded my mind, things like; What was the meaning of this?
Was this all planned from the beginning?
I didn't know, but the simple fact I didn't made me even more angry.
The cloaked guard readied his spear and charged at me once again, striking at me with the tip of the blade, while still somehow maintaining a perfect distance.
I dashed in, sliding through his impressive offense while a strip of my cloak got ripped in the process.
I swung my longsword right at the man's nape, which is when the blade of my sword was knocked upwards by something just out of my peripheral vision just as I was about to deliver a finishing blow.
Looking to my right, my eyes bulged as I saw that there was another identical spear wielding guard with the same unmoving eyes and marked sigil coming for my throat.
There was nothing in either one of their souls, it was almost like they were keen on ending me here or else it meant their death!
[ CLASH ]
Deflecting my blade away, the second guard then moved into a striking stance before trying to skewer me with his golden spear.
Of which I managed to defend against using the edge of my blade.
Two of them?!
Where did these guys even come from?!
I tangled in a dangerous mess of blade swings and by the hair misses. I continued to dance with the devil, forcing myself to move instinctually before a thought could even be processed.
I couldn't let up, wherever I wasn't looking, there was a blade coming straight for my skull.
To compare this to my battle with Darric would be a disservice.
That was child's play, this was another league.
It was clear that these guys were low ranked Awakened, but I still could barely keep up.
Me, someone who has gotten this far through hard work alone was finally being shown the cruel reality of where I stand in this world.
Not only were they just stronger and faster, when I aimed for one, the other would come flying at my neck.
I suffered a couple slashes and bruises here and there, but I didn't let that stop me. I knew what I had to do.
In the middle of the throne room, me and the two men danced for the audience of the Solim.
I huffed and puffed in bits, my sight fixated on only one thing. Lucien.
Lucien sat there like he was spectating a play.
He smiled maniacally while awaiting our next improv. His serpent-like fangs coming out to show themselves to the world.
I planted myself to my position looking back to face the two men, my endurance nearly failing me as I accumulated everything I could to stay standing.
The two men, worried not of my condition, dashed ahead mercilessly. I didn't move a muscle, and waited patiently for what was about to happen next.
The first man stepped forward with a strike slightly before the second man.
I waited, and I waited, and I waited with immense self-restraint until the blade of the spear was just an inch off my face, which is when I slipped past the attack by the supposed grace of god.
My afterimage taking the form of a spectre in the night.
Circling past the first man's body before he could react and using his blind-spot as cover to escape the second man's line of sight.
The first man's reaction was intense, he looked as if he had seen a ghost. A natural response to such god-like timing.
This was my only chance.
If I can land this attack, I can maybe attempt to make my escape with Craggle.
I ducked and swung my blade using my wrist, a skill i've honed since my beginning with the way of combat.
The blade thrusted forward at the eye of the second man, which caused the second man to shoot up his defenses in a panic.
But just as he did so, the trajectory of my blade seemingly shifted in mid-air; catching the guard by surprise.
Time froze, the next coming seconds are what will determine my fate. This was it, there was no way he could react to this.
I had actually prevailed, I had actually done it. I-
POWWW
Is all I remember as a third guard rushed in and knocked me upside my head with the butt of his spear.
My body fell over, tumbling down as my eyelids got heavier and heavier.
My vision faded, time dilated, and my eyes began to roll to the back of my head.
The last image I was able to somewhat recognize, being the unforgettable warped face of Lucien crying due to laughter.