"Why are you in this Kingdom?" Morris asked, his voice tight with apprehension. He gripped his tankard a little tighter, the cool metal a small comfort in the rising tension.
Seraph leaned back in his chair, a flicker of amusement in his red eyes. "I am from the Kingdom of Trava," he replied, his voice calm and measured.
"The one at the southeast part of Heaven's Boundary."
He paused, letting the geographical significance sink in.
"We have a… formidable heir to the throne, the current prince."
Another pause for emphasis.
"He chose me for this operation. I am a Knight, and Captain of the Order of Young Elites."
The titles hung in the air like banners, proclaiming Seraph's status.
"I am here to propose and establish a deal with the King of Velmora Kingdom."
Morris's eyebrows shot up, his weariness momentarily forgotten. A deal with the King? This is bigger than I thought. "What deal?" he asked, unable to contain his curiosity.
Seraph sighed, a theatrical display of disappointment. "Ah, here we go again."
He shook his head slightly.
"I said no questions while I am answering, and you have to earn another chance for it."
He steepled his fingers, his gaze fixed on Morris, a hint of a challenge in his red eyes.
"Although I will tell you one thing about the deal," he continued, his voice dropping to a near whisper, leaning forward conspiratorially.
"It's… the Emberred Dragon."
Morris's breath hitched. A chill snaked down his spine, despite the warmth of the tavern. The Emberred Dragon? Legend says it hasn't been seen in centuries. The name itself was enough to send shivers down the spine of even the bravest warrior. A creature of legend, said to possess scales harder than steel and breath hotter than a forge. A force of nature, a walking catastrophe. "Em… Emberred Dragon!?" he stammered, his mind racing, trying to grasp the implications. What in the blazes…? "What is your prince planning…?"
Suddenly, Adrian's calm voice cut through the thick tension. "Uncle, it's getting late."
Adrian stepped forward slightly, his silver eyes looking at Morris with gentle concern.
"You should give some time to rest to our guest."
He gave Morris a polite reminder, seemingly oblivious to the dangerous undercurrents of the conversation.
Seraph rose from his chair, a graceful movement despite the weight of his armor. "Adrian is right."
He stretched slightly.
"I should take some rest. After all, it's getting late."
He gave Morris a polite nod, his red eyes holding a knowing glint.
Morris, his mind still reeling from the mention of the dragon, instinctively reached out a hand. "Wait—"
Seraph stopped him with a raised hand, a knowing smile playing on his lips. "You know the game is over," he said softly, his voice carrying a note of finality.
"I answered your question. So no more questions and no more answers."
He turned slightly.
"By the way, the soup was tasty. Good night, Mr. Morris."
He turned to Adrian, his smile softening slightly. "Thank you for your hospitality, young man. Lead the way."
Adrian nodded and gestured towards a hallway leading to the guest rooms. As Seraph followed Adrian out of the room, his footsteps echoing softly in the sudden quiet, Morris whispered to himself, his voice laced with dread, "You have got to be kidding me."
He shook his head in disbelief.
"What is the prince of Trava planning… with the Emberred Dragon?"
He stared at the spot where Seraph had been sitting, the image of the dragon's fiery form flashing in his mind, scales shimmering like a thousand burning sunsets. A cold dread settled in his stomach, heavier than any meal he'd ever eaten. He knew, with a chilling certainty that went bone-deep, that whatever the prince of Trava was planning, it could only mean trouble for Velmora… and the implications were terrifying.
Morris walked to his room, a small, spartan space that offered little comfort tonight. The room was ordinary, a single candle flickering on a rough-hewn table casting long, dancing shadows that accentuated the lines of worry etched on his face. A clock, crafted from polished copper and jade, ticked with a steady, rhythmic pulse, each tick a stark reminder of the passing time. The jade face was intricately carved with swirling patterns, like the rings of an ancient tree, and the copper hands moved with a silent, deliberate grace. It was a simple, functional piece, a constant reminder of the passing time.
On the table sat a small bottle, its rough wooden stopper secured by leather thongs. Morris picked it up, the cool, smooth wood a familiar comfort against his trembling fingers. He uncorked the bottle and took a long draught of the clear water, the cool liquid doing little to soothe the tension that coiled in his gut, a knot tightening with each passing moment. He had a long day, and the night was proving to be longer, each minute stretching into an eternity of anxious thoughts.
He walked slowly to the edge of his bed, the worn mattress creaking beneath his weight, a sound that seemed to amplify the silence of the room. He sat, his gaze fixed on the flickering candle flame, its dance mirroring the chaotic thoughts swirling in his mind. Seraph… the Prince… the Dragon… He thought for a moment, the image of Seraph's piercing red eyes flashing in his mind, a constant, unsettling presence. Would that strange guest bring him and Adrian trouble? He shuddered to think of the Emberred Dragon and the Prince of Trava's intentions, the very thought sending a shiver down his spine.
"Adrian," he called out, his voice hoarse, a desperate plea for reassurance breaking through his usual stoicism. "Come sleep with me!"
After a few minutes, Adrian shuffled into the room, his eyes heavy with sleep, his small shoulders slumped with exhaustion. "I could have slept alone," he mumbled, a hint of protest in his voice, his brow furrowed in confusion.
Morris's eyes wavered, a flicker of fear betraying his normally stoic demeanor, his gaze darting around the room as if searching for an unseen threat. "No, it isn't safe," he said, his voice firm, though a tremor betrayed his anxiety. "I'm not fully trusting Seraph. I can't let you sleep alone."
The next day, the sun rose, painting the sky in vibrant strokes of yellow and orange, a masterpiece of dawn. The horizon glowed with a soft, warm light, the sun's rays stretching across the land like fingers of gold, promising a new day, but Morris felt no sense of peace, only a growing unease.
He woke to find Adrian sleeping soundly beside him, a gentle smile gracing his lips, a stark contrast to the worry that gnawed at Morris. He was clutching his favorite doll, a small lion cub with a surprisingly cute face. The doll's fur was worn and matted, but its black button eyes still gleamed with a childlike innocence, a reminder of a simpler time. A distinctive red mark was emblazoned on its forehead, and its beard, a faded red, was slightly askew, a testament to countless hugs and bedtime stories. The doll was a memento from Adrian's mother, a fragile connection to a past Morris knew little about, a past he was determined to protect Adrian from.
Morris glanced at the jade clock; it was 6:37 am. He rose quietly, careful not to disturb Adrian, his movements slow and deliberate, and made his way to the tavern's dining area.
He found Seraph preparing his backpack, his movements efficient and purposeful, a silent promise of departure. "Hey," Morris called out, his voice rough with sleep, a hint of desperation creeping in. "You're leaving this early? Wait a minute, I'll make you some breakfast."
Seraph turned, a warm smile of gratitude spreading across his face, a smile that didn't quite reach his red eyes. "Thanks for your hospitality, but I'm sorry, I have to leave. I have an appointment with the King at sharp 8:00 am. I have to be faster to reach on time." He pulled a small pouch from his belt and tossed it onto the table, the sound of the coins a sharp, metallic clang. "Here, 400 ressos. Keep the balance." He paused, his gaze intense, a hint of something more serious in his eyes. "And maybe in the future, we can meet again."
"But—" Morris began, then stopped himself, his words caught in his throat. "Alright, have a great—"
Seraph interrupted him, his voice firm, a note of urgency in his tone. "Sorry, I have to say one more thing. Teach Adrian about this world. You have the right as his guardian. Adrian has potential, and I can see it. The future is unpredictable."
Morris looked down, a frown creasing his brow, his fingers tracing the worn edge of the table. "I understand, but I need to think about it."
Seraph stepped out of the tavern and started walking, his footsteps echoing on the cobblestone street, a sound that faded quickly into the morning quiet. As he walked away, he turned slightly, his voice carrying back to Morris, a final, chilling reminder. "There isn't much time to think, it's all up to you, Mr. Morris."
To be continued....