Dragon Frost (30 page)

“
We are not the key, you are.”
 I freeze. The same voice reaches my ears and
I feel odd but I know I’ve heard it. It sounded like someone
whispered in my ear. It was like that before and now I can’t seem
to understand what is happening right now. If, theoretically I’m
not a schizophrenic, then I am hearing a voice that isn’t mine.
Also, it’s the same message and each time the voice was female. I
need to speak to Nerelda.

The
Contuse Sector is grand in side; its copper coloured walls are
complimented by the blood red banners that run down the walls.
There are six major insignias on it. The first is the Order of
Warriors—the iron fist with daggers embedded in it is its insignia
this represents the Order of Soldiers, then there’s the Order of
Mystical—the spell book under a sun represents the Order of
Sorcerers.

The Order
of Riders—a figure positioned as if riding above him are a crescent
moon and a six-point star, the Order of Rangers—a cloaked man with
a hood a soldier on one side and peasant on the next this
represents their ability to blend, the Order of Stars—a glistening
star above several lined mountains represents the universal
travellers. The next is the Order of Souls—the head of a skull with
a pentagram represents the spiritualists and finally the Order of
Knights that is us. All of these individual Orders make up the
universal Order.

The one
connected through all worlds and all levels of Transit; the past,
the present and the future. They have always been around but never
known to those who are guiding them, we are sworn to secrecy. Still
there are several that go against our creeds and they are the
Rouge. These are the enemy of all of us and are mostly likely in
allegiance with the Covenant and the Grattican—some however; are
just mindless killers. Our creed and our rules is what governs us
without them, we are nothing but murders.

One major
rule—
never
 take
the life of an innocent.

Some have
chosen to go against this rule and as such we are sent after them
to hunt them down. I stalk along the red and gold carpet that
divided the armour and weapon lined room. There are crossbows,
long-swords, axes, hammers, bows, curved knives, maces and many
more above the heads of the empty armoured suits. We continue to
make our way along the long stretch of carpet and towards a woman
behind a large wooden desk. You would mistake it for oak but it is
not instead its ‘garmeth’ the wood with similar properties as oak
but is a lot denser.

I clear
my throat and the woman looks up her red short wavy hair sits at
her ears and her blue eyes regard us with aloofness. I return the
expression. “You would be?” she asks me and I pull out my badge not
necessarily in the mood to talk. “Knights.” she mutters as she
glances at Altair than her eyes fall on Varden as I return my badge
to its place. They are a lot colder and Varden shifts footing under
her gaze. “And him?”

“
My
assignment,” She nods knowing, that it may not be the first
time.

“
The door
on the left and down the hall, you’ll wait in the Common Room and
Esmay will question you further.” She returns back to scribbling
something down and I lead the way, the boys following closely
behind. The heavy wooden door swings shut on its own and our feet
clutter against the stone floor, wall torches line our path and
create a golden and yellow glow. Entering the common room seems
easy enough with red plush couches upon a Persian like
carpet.

“
This is
nice.” states Varden as he casually makes himself comfortable.
Altair follows after him and I glance around the room, taking in
every inch of the place and commit it to memory. He glances at me,
“You coming to join us or are you going to stand there and be all
paranoid?” he asks and I glare at him—not that he can tell. The
sound of footsteps greets my ears and I turn to its source. A woman
with brown hair appears and her green eyes regard us
momentarily.

“
This
way,” I follow after her and we are lead down another hallway,
lined with torches and we enter a room. There is an empty desk in
the far right corner and two wooden doors one to the right and one
just before us. A large built in bookshelf is behind the empty desk
and the bottom left of the rectangular room where the same plush
couches and intricate carpets line the floor. There’s a dark wooden
table that separates the couches and I presume that to be the
waiting area. “Make yourselves comfortable. I’ll be requiring the
highest rank to fill in an evaluation form and to provide a recount
of your journey.”

Altair
and Varden make themselves comfortable while I head to the woman.
She hands me a clip board with papers, there is a quill and ink pod
attached to it. I take it and find a seat opposite the boys.
Something didn’t seem right, something appears to be amiss yet I
have to find out what? Or so I thought. I stand erect once a man in
a red and gold uniform conducts us to follow him. He never revealed
much other than he was the Duke’s assistant/butler.

Since
when does a Duke Need assistance? Still I tried to not let it
bother me but something did seem amiss. The walk to the Duke’s
office seemed bleak and boring to a degree, I have yet to find any
interest in the conversation Varden was having with Sarith (the
Duke’s assistant/butler), and they seem to be getting along quiet
well. I’m being watched. It’s not that I didn’t expect it but I’m
interested into finding ways how this will benefit me, better yet,
the Kingdoms of Zylaria.

“
Kalverya?” Varden questions, I look up realizing only then
that the Duke had opened the door for us and I was the last to
enter. “You okay?” he asks and I nod. Why Varden seems to be so
perplexed by my sudden motion seems to be rather peculiar, I know
he’s not the enemy or isn’t or has no contact with them but
something just feels off. No matter how much I tried to shake it
off—it still remains.

“
Well
don’t just stand there, come on.” ushers Altair.

I can’t,
something’s wrong.

“
Of course there is.”
 comes the same voice. I stare at Altair and shake my
head.

“
You guys
go on, I need to check on a few things, I just remembered.” I lie
and Altair gives me a side look as if trying to determine whether
my words are honest or false. They’re false Altair, they’re false,
there’s something terribly wrong in this area! I can feel it, can’t
you?

“
Really?”
he asks in an even tone which I know has a hidden meaning: “is that
really the case?” Even now I can’t bring myself to tell him and I
feel the eyes of Sarith on me but I avoid looking at him, it’s like
no matter how tinted and obscure my faceplate is I feel as though
he’ll know the moment I gaze at him.

I can see
the Duke in his seat his eyes are watching me carefully, one wrong
move and I can insult him. One wrong move and he can send me to the
Arena. Once I’m in the Arena I’ll no longer be recognized as a
Knight but a criminal. 
In spite of everything I’ve done for this world,
will he go that far?
 I wonder. Is this man so fed on keeping everything in
order and controlled that he won’t allow me to hesitate. It’s like
my feet began to move on themselves. I head towards the office.
They watch me, confusion masks their expression. The Duke is
impassive.

“
Then
again, it can wait it’s not every day I get to see the Duke of
Alland.” I stretch with a small smile and he returns the gesture,
Altair and Varden enter the room and the Duke Mizreth la Largondale
de Alland gestures to the seats before his desk and I oblige taking
my seat directly across from him and Varden and Altair on the seats
that lay either side of me. Now it’s time to put on the
charm.

“
Lady
Rodregas. You flatter me with your presence.” he teases; I tilt my
head to the side.

“
Me?
Flatter? Never, I’m merely stating a fact that the Duke of Alland
is the most powerful in all of Zylaria. Tell me I’m wrong?” I ask
as I intertwine my fingers over lap and cross my legs.

“
Quite
right you are my lady but still you have no need to turn on that
charm of yours now.” Altair clears his throat and I continue to
gaze at the Duke. “Also, those helmets 
will
 be removed in my presence.” he states, his
tone very demanding on the world: 
will
. It wasn’t a suggestion that’s for sure. I remove
my helmet and Altair does the same, he adds, “Let’s begin shall we.
What brings you here?” he asks.

“
My
assignment,” I say.

“
What
assignment may that be?” he asks.

“
The
Prince.” His face is full of conflicting emotions within his eyes
as he clenches his jaw tightly. He knew, he knows and yet still
he’s trying to hide it. I knew something was wrong.

“
What are
you talking about? I would know if the Prince is here.” he
covers—very well might I add. His lips curl into an almost taunting
smile and I return to my neutral expression. I wasn’t joking, I was
stating the truth. Is he trying to brush of the facts—the facts are
that which don’t lie?

“
He is
here.” cuts in Altair and I lock my gaze at the Duke—taking in
every inch of his face, his movements, his eyes and his heart beat
I search for answers or rather reasons. I need clues and he’s
already given me enough but not enough to use as evidence. The
Duke’s gaze pulls from mine and to Varden. His charcoal hair
cascades over his eyes making his blue eyes appear several shades
darker. He forces a gentle smile. That’s another. Since when should
smiles be forced if they’re genuine?

“
You mean
. . . ” the Duke trails off. I nod once his gaze returns to me. His
face is blank of colour. The next thing to do is clarification
which is now what I do—Varden needs recognition of someone in the
Royal Court and some in the Inner Circle of Parliament. “Well I
didn’t expect that.”

“
No one
ever does.” I say, “If you need I can give you my recount report.
I’m sure all the evidence will be in there as well as the letter
written by the Chief Commander and the Order’s Council recognizing
Varden Savana as the only descendent of the Royal Family.” He nods
attentively. “Good. We’ll be in touch.” I say and stand. The Duke
rises and bows towards the ‘Prince’ and Varden looks at me for an
explanation. I smile. You are Prince, you might as well get used to
it you’re majesty.

Dinner
appeared around the corner faster than I can comprehend, why there
seems to be a large jump in time made me almost dizzy at the
thought but really we spent the whole day touring the city while
Varden dragged me to stores. I told Altair to take him but he
refused to, so instead I had to compliment what outfits did look
good on him and what didn’t. At that point, I began to realise the
pain men go through. You never should disregard something until it
happens to you? Like abductions or murders. They are around and
continue to cause people pain, my immediate response to Varden’s
previous question, “How do I look?”

“
Dashing,” I had said, “Can we go now?” That question wasn’t
the best conversation turner at all, I like clothes and shopping
but I have to keep an eye out for suspicious activity, he may be
the crown Prince but people are out for his blood. Only if he knew
the things I did for him.

“
No. We
can’t go. We’re going to see a play.” he said and I sighed. After
the shopping it was the plays than the museums than the frozen
beach finally we manage to make our way back at the Contuse Sector,
now dinner is being dished out in front of us. From sea-food to red
meats, various breads, cheeses and delicacies I can’t even name
yet; which I have yet to identify. Still I don’t let it my eyes
linger too long on the food or I fear it will be gobbled down by
Altair and Varden, with little left for me; we sit around a
circular table, and each of us is equally opposite each
other.

“
Wow,
this is good.” mutters Varden after a mouthful of food, I’ve never
in my days, have I seen him devour meals like a forest bred animal,
waffles of food is forced down his large neck which I fear will
explode from the inside-out. The sight of it is both disgusting and
intriguing. The sound of knocking occurs from the large wooden
doors at the far end of the room. The glossy egress is forced open
and the Duke is standing with the shadows of flickering lanterns.
Tall, proud and dominating his exterior is and that is no
exaggeration as his red and gold embodied attire complements his
slicked—back hair. His eyes are trained on us.

“
Lord
Mizreth, what do we do the honor?” I question. He smiles at me and
enters the room.

“
I’m just
making sure everything is in order. You know, making sure you’re
comfortable.” Why is it that I get the feeling that’s not the only
reason why you’re here? I smile at him and attempt to erase any
thoughtful expression upon my face.

“
Thank
you, that’s very kind of you.” I say.

“
It’s my
pleasure Lady Kalverya. There are things that have to be at the
standard of a Prince.” He gestures to Varden and I stop my spoon
full of soup inches from my mouth. His heart is erratic. I glance
at Altair and he meets my gaze we’re thinking the same thing. Why
would the Duke be nervous unless he had something to hide? What are
the odds? “Lord Altair, is everything to your liking?” Mizreth
turns to Altair and smiles. Altair nods.