As Seraph left, Morris, his shoulders slumped with exhaustion, closed the tavern doors. He retrieved a shabby wooden board, its edges worn smooth from years of use, and placed it across the entrance. The simple act felt heavy, a closing off from the world. He was too tired, burdened by Seraph's words. He just wanted peace.
"Uncle, why the closing board?" Adrian's voice broke the quiet.
Morris turned, fatigue etched on his face. "You're awake," he murmured, a weary smile appearing. "Too tired for customers today, Adrian. A long, strange night."
Adrian approached, worry in his silver eyes. He gently took Morris's hand. "Uncle, are you alright? Did Seraph worry you?"
Morris knelt, his gaze softening. "I'm fine, lad," he said, forcing a smile. "Just need rest."
Adrian walked to a dining chair and sat, his small frame slumping. His eyes closed, his face troubled as he drifted into sleep. Morris watched him, a mix of affection and guilt in his expression. He too sat, thoughts swirling like a storm.
Meanwhile, Seraph reached Velmora Palace's front gate. Two guards stood watch, suspicion in their eyes. Their polished armor bore the Velmora Lily crest. The lily, silver-white with a golden tinge, a symbol of resilience, bloomed rarely.
One guard narrowed his eyes, stepping forward. "Who are you?" His voice was gruff.
Seraph introduced himself, stating his origin and purpose. He presented a token: a small, blue carving of a man holding a spear and a crystal. It shimmered faintly in the morning light.
The guard took the token, his thick fingers turning it over, his brow furrowing slightly as he examined the intricate details. A flicker of something unreadable crossed his face before he finally nodded to his companion.
The blue-haired guard pushed open the massive gate of Solmora Keep, Velmora's palace. The silverwood gate featured a large Velmora Lily emblem.
Seraph walked through, observing the grand pathway. The guards bowed respectfully. Colossal statues of warriors bearing the Velmora Lily lined the way. Some held swords, others lances, a few spellbooks – a testament to Velmora's history.
One statue, larger than the rest, stood before Solmora Keep. It depicted a figure with a sword and a Velmora Lily, raised to the sun. Its crest was gold, a crystal on its crown. "The first King," Seraph murmured.
The white stone palace shimmered on a high plateau, resembling the Velmora Lily. Golden accents lined spires and rooftops. Legend said Solmora Keep was built where the first lily bloomed, a sign of divine blessing. Some whispered it still bloomed within.
The pathway continued, lined with ancient silver-barked trees forming a natural arch. Beneath them, fields of wild Velmora Lilies bloomed in soft silver and gold hues, swaying gently in the wind.
Further ahead, the path led to the Velmora River, flowing beneath a magnificent bridge. Crossing it, Solmora Keep loomed, its walls and spires gleaming against the sky.
Finally, Seraph reached the main doors. Two towering guardians stood watch. One had fiery red hair and a serious expression, holding a spiked hammer. The other, with deep blue hair and the same stern face, held a golden-lined spear. Their matching features spoke of their twinhood. Their high-quality, enchanted armor marked their importance.
The red-haired guard stepped forward. "Present your token. Only then can you enter to meet the king."
Seraph presented the blue token. The red-haired guard glanced at it, then turned to his blue-haired twin and nodded in approval. The blue-haired guard pushed open the massive doors of Solmora Keep, a wave of light flowing out, momentarily blinding Seraph. Impressive… but I can't shake the feeling that this meeting won't be as straightforward as it seems.
The path opened before Seraph, leading deeper into the heart of Solmora Keep. He walked forward, the rhythmic click of his armored boots echoing on the polished stone floor. Guards, clad in white and gold armor, stood like silent sentinels on either side, their gazes unwavering.
The palace exuded a regal aura, a blend of pristine white stone and shimmering gold accents. It felt undeniably royal, though Seraph noted a difference from the opulent grandeur of Trava's palace. Less extravagant, perhaps more… grounded, he mused.
He reached the main chamber. King Julius Velmora sat on a raised dais, flanked by two advisors. Seraph recognized one from their brief, intense eye contact: Chancellor Sir Veldric. The other was Sir Alden.
Veldric's gaze was sharp, serious. Seraph offered a subtle, almost imperceptible smirk in return. Veldric had sharp, grey eyes that seemed to pierce through Seraph, and his thin, silver hair was neatly combed back, emphasizing the stern lines of his face. His attire was formal, befitting his high office, a dark blue robe embroidered with silver thread in the pattern of the Velmora Lily.
Seraph stopped before the King. Unlike those accustomed to the Velmora court, he remained standing.
Veldric's face flushed crimson. "Sir Seraph," he began, his voice tight with indignation, "you stand before the King. Is it not basic courtesy to kneel?" He fixed Seraph with a hard glare from his grey eyes.
Seraph met Veldric's gaze, then turned his attention to the King. "My apologies, Chancellor," he said, his voice clear and even. "But he is not my King. And even if he were, I, Seraph Hanveil, do not kneel."
Veldric started to rise, his voice rising with fury, his silver hair slightly disheveled by his sudden movement. "How dare—"
A deep, resonant voice cut through Veldric's outburst. "Veldric, that is enough." The King's voice, though calm, carried an immense weight of authority.
Veldric froze, his face a mask of frustrated obedience. "But Your Majesty—"
King Julius closed his eyes briefly, then opened them, his gaze a silent command for Veldric to hold his tongue. The King appeared to be in his late fifties or early sixties, his dark beard and mustache streaked with grey, a testament to his years. Yet, his presence filled the chamber with a palpable power.
He turned his gaze to Seraph. "Sir Seraph, please state the reason for your audience."
"As you may already know," Seraph began, his posture still upright, "the Crown Prince of Trava is planning the capture of the Emberred Dragon. A letter detailing this was sent to you some weeks prior. We seek your cooperation."
The King's expression turned grave. "You speak of a dragon that was the guardian of the Fallen Ember Family. Even with our strongest forces combined, I fear we would stand little chance."
"We will succeed," Seraph countered, his voice confident. "The Emberred Dragon is weakened. Some time ago, it attacked a village in the southeast. Survivors reported it was far weaker than its legends suggest. A six-seals user in that village fought it and noted its strength, but also a significant decline."
"But why?" the King asked, his brow furrowed. "For what reason does your prince seek to attack this dragon?"
A smile touched Seraph's lips. "The dragon heart."
"The dragon heart?!" Veldric interjected sharply, his eyes widening in alarm. "Do you intend to extract its zin energy?"
"You are astute, Chancellor Veldric," Seraph replied, a hint of amusement in his tone. "Just as the rumors suggest. Indeed, it is for the zin energy. A dragon's heart holds enough to unlock two seals."
Veldric turned to the King, his voice urgent. "Your Majesty, I strongly oppose this partnership with Trava. It is reckless, and the benefits are solely theirs."
"You are mistaken, Chancellor," Seraph interrupted smoothly. "We are not without consideration. Should our forces join, Velmora shall receive half of the zin energy extracted from the dragon heart."
"Do you truly believe we would agree?" Veldric scoffed.
"Enough," the King stated, his voice firm. "Sir Seraph, grant us time to deliberate. This is a matter of great importance, requiring careful consideration. We will send a letter outlining our response." Veldric sighed audibly.
"As you wish, Your Majesty," Seraph replied. "Though I assure you, acquiring the dragon will be… manageable. We possess a key."
"A key?!" Veldric exclaimed, suspicion lacing his voice.
Seraph merely smirked. "You will understand soon enough, should you choose to cooperate."
This arrogant fool, Veldric thought, his fists clenching subtly. He and his prince are hiding something to be so confident about hunting the Emberred Dragon, the same beast that razed a city a century ago.
"Your Majesty," Seraph said, bowing his head slightly this time. "I must take my leave to report back. I did, unexpectedly, encounter a familiar face before coming here – Sir Morris."
The King's eyes widened slightly. "Morris? You know of him?"
"Indeed," Seraph replied. "Though I did not anticipate finding him here."
"Your Majesty," Seraph continued, offering a more respectful bow. "Forgive my earlier lack of decorum. Duty calls me back swiftly."
The King nodded in acknowledgment. "Tell the King of Trava that he has raised a… resourceful son." A hint of a smile played on Julius's lips.
Seraph smiled in return and then turned to leave.
Once Seraph was gone, Veldric rounded on Sir Alden, who had remained silent. "Alden! Do you only use your mouth for eating? Couldn't you say something to that cocky bastard? Who does he think he is?"
Alden, a man in his forties with a neatly trimmed brown goatee and long, tied-back brown hair, and striking emerald green eyes, finally spoke, his voice calm. "Chancellor Veldric, losing your composure serves no purpose. Arguing with Seraph Hanveil is unwise. Remember his family name. Even the Travan royals would hesitate to make an enemy of the Hanveil lineage."
"The Hanveil family," Veldric muttered, his voice still tight with anger. "The ones who practice those… blood seal techniques, aren't they?"
"Yes," Alden confirmed. "Prudence dictates we avoid antagonizing him. Rest assured, we will remember his arrogance."
The King interjected, his gaze thoughtful. "This prince of Trava… it makes me wonder. Alden, where is my son, the Crown Prince of Velmora?"
"Your Majesty," Alden replied, bowing slightly. "He will return in three days. He has recently achieved the seventh seal."
Veldric scoffed. "The Travan crown prince may be cunning, but he is still leagues behind our own."
Meanwhile, far to the north, in the jagged peaks of the Hyin Mountains...
Crown Prince Theron of Trava sat in meditation on a snow-capped peak, gathering zin energy. A white and gold aura flowed around him, being drawn into his body. He finished, rising to his feet. He extended a hand, and a glowing golden and white lily materialized. A marked seal, depicting a golden lily with seven petals, formed on his forehead.
A man in his forties, wearing a long green coat and black attire, with short, neatly cut black hair, a trimmed black beard, and striking emerald green eyes, approached. "Congratulations, Crown Prince. Your zin energy has increased significantly. You can now wield the power of the seventh seal with ease. You are a rare prodigy."
Crown Prince Theron, with his long golden hair and lashes, handsome features, and pale complexion, replied, "You flatter me, Master Tyler. I still have much to learn and must elevate my Golden Lily Seal further. Once I reach that stage, Velmora will reclaim its former glory."