Chapter 17

Queer Dacent

“Some strange whispers drift among us; I feel Light churning – should Light churn? No. Light should not churn. It should be calm. Calm like the sea.”

Forgotten Histories, Vol. II

Noah walked slowly behind Olivia, accompanying her in silence, as they made their way over the flattened, green-endowed stretch of land between her home and the Grand Council Hall. Flowery reefs extended to his left, giving way to tall, purple-bruised, and strange trees that blocked the horizon. In the midst of the calming nature, she appeared offhandedly restless, her steps marred with a faint factor of uncertainty.

He, on the other hand, seemed somewhat disinterested; she was taking him to the official meeting of the Grand Council, as means of the first introduction, but his mind stayed on the last book he'd read – Introduction to Light. Unlike his wild imagination suggested, Light was not light – in a way, it was magic. It branched off into three major segments – Projection, Internalization, and Subversion. The kids he saw in the forest were using Projection, manipulating what the locals called ‘Shards of Light’ to create different elements; Subversion, on the other hand, played hand-in-hand with the concept of light itself – by bending the way it behaves, it creates illusions. And, lastly, Internalization – the rarest and oddest kind. Apparently, it is entirely reserved for the healer types, meaning that anyone found being able to use it is considered almost as valuable as the Lightbringer himself.

At any given time, there are at most ten spread throughout the Kingdom, which explained why Olivia didn’t invite one to help Noah when he first came – even she, as a Princess, would have to pay an arm and a leg for it.

While the explanations were sufficiently… adequate, for lack of a better word, they were also extremely vague. Nowhere did it state whether someone is born being able to use Light, or do they acquire it, or learn it directly someplace. He wanted to ask Olivia about it, but seeing her state, he decided it was better to withhold his questions for another time.

“When we get there, do not talk much,” she said as they stopped in front of a massive, wide building made out of silver-stone, motifs of radiating light permeating the carved surface of the façade. “You are just a newly recruited Dacent, and we are still testing your expertise – tell them that if they ask where is your colored identification.”

“Relax,” Noah smiled faintly. “I won’t do bad.”

“… ugh, sorry; I just… these old geezers are really… crafty and sly,” she said as the two stepped into a grand entrance hall, wide and spacious, lit up by countless candles hanging from the beautiful chandeliers. Sets upon sets of stairs led to various parts of the building, with doors galore decorating all ends. The white-and-black tiled floor beneath reflected the light perfectly, seemingly as clear as the babe’s tear. “If they latch onto a weakness, they are like wolves. Never letting go. This way.”

She led him to the right and up a set of slightly curving stairs that wound toward the backend of the building. Along the walls, portraits and various paintings emerged, depicting not just persons, but also events – Battle of the Sumnner’s River, depicting two armies each standing on a different side of a wide and beautiful river, holding banners swaying in the winds. Next to it was the depiction of the ‘Weeper’, a purple-dyed tree standing tall in the center of the Weepwoods, the place Noah first landed when he came here. Though he’d never seen it, it reminded him of those trees on the outside; it was entirely possible they took seeds from it and planted them here.

The one that caught his attention the most, however, was the painting titled ‘The First Light’ – it depicted a young, handsome man draped in golden silk and linen, a crown of light floating above his head, his right arm raised, holding a flaming sword, around him a circle of kneeling men and women, and behind him the sun standing like a halo to his back. The man’s eyes shone in resplendent amber, a faint smile hanging on his face. The caption next to the name simply read ‘L’, which Noah took to stand for ‘light’. This was probably the depiction of the first Outlander who gave them the Light.

"… how old is this painting?" Noah asked Olivia, causing her to stop and glance at the painting, her eyes shimmering in a gleam of reverence and awe.

"… it's always been there," she replied after a brief silence, reaching out and gently touching the framed surface. "Our forefathers hung it on these walls when the First One died. It is said that anyone bound by Light would have the same eyes like his – amber. Though, as you can tell, it's just an old wives' tale." She chuckled bitterly and shook her head, walking forward with Noah following right behind her, glancing at the painting one last time and etching it into his memories.

The hall where the meeting was to be held was already almost full; all the Nobles who should attend were in the attendance, which Noah concluded by the lack of the empty seats around a table closer to the doors. It was a wide and round room, gated by a fully radial set of rectangular windows shining light upon the room. Pillars upheld the flat ceiling, painted in the motif of the sun, while the walls themselves were barren of the decorations.

Further toward the other end was the second table – one much smaller, yet far more extravagant, sporting only ten chairs, one of which stood isolated on a platform, grand and tall. Behind it, a silken banner unfurled from the gap in the ceiling, depicting an image of the golden sun imposed on top of the black background – sigil of the Kingdom.

Olivia smiled dazzlingly and greeted men and women, who responded in kind, as she made her way toward the other, still half-empty table; she was well-liked, Noah realized. Though most simply paid her lip service, he failed to spot a face that hated her. She was hardly as naïve as she put herself up to be; she knew where her strengths lied, and how to use them. Perhaps she may have never become a Queen without him, or even explored the world, but she would have been someone well-respected throughout her life.

A few paid him a few curious glances, though nobody directly talked to him. He, undisturbed, made his way to the other side and stood behind the chairs, alongside a few other Dacents that had already arrived. Each of them glanced at him, some with curiosity, some with caution, though he merely smiled at them and nodded before shifting his attention over to the Nobles, examining each face individually and committing them to his memory.

'Only' sixty-four were present, as the upper echelon of Nobility only had to attend yearly meetings unless there was an emergency since they were responsible for their territories. The general relationship was somewhat complex, Noah had come to learn; while it was an absolute monarchy and, on the surface, the King held the power both over the land and the army – it was hardly so in reality. Armies were trained largely by the Nobles due to the convenience as only a small portion of the population lived here, in the city. While they are required to swear an Oath of Allegiance to the King if they are accepted into the army itself, it was beyond difficult to know the hearts of men.

Beyond that, even the land laws were unnecessarily draped in the layers and shrouds of mystery. One part gave the King an absolute right to them, while another listed off eighty-six exclusions, such as if the High Nobility – Dukes and Marquess – had 'cultivated' the land for three generations without interruption, or if a member of the High Nobility had married – 'however temporarily' – into the Royal Blood. Noah was certain that all these clauses were added generations after the Kingdom's founding, as the luster of the singular ruler tends to be lost when people only see their own local Lords. Over time, in any monarchy, Nobility will gain more and more power – the Kings and Queens largely become symbols of status and might, forced to make concessions left and right just to keep their crown.

He now, partly, understood why the Holy War existed – it wasn’t merely to select the next ruler, but also to test the loyalty of the soldiers and to impose the image of the Royalty over Nobility into the masses. It was a clever scheme, Noah mused, but a short-term solution to a problem that will never go away.

They had to wait for a good half an hour until the last two members arrived – the King and the Queen themselves – each surrounded by a set of ten guards who escorted them to their respective seats. Everyone, including him, had to sit on their knees until the two sat into their chairs, and allowed them to rise.

Noah also spotted a surprising face in the corner – Quickett – who smiled at him innocently. He was, once again, dressed in the ridiculous combination of colors and shapes and materials, making him seem stranger than the last time.

“From lowest to the highest seat,” the King spoke in a booming and commanding tone, his amber-colored eyes – the only one who had them besides Olivia – glancing over the entire hall indifferently. “Report your points, and be quick about it.”

What commenced was perhaps the most boring six hours of Noah's life – and that was when compared to having to stay inside a flea-infested shed for half a day in the scorching heat. He entirely understood the King's impatience, and if this was 'being quick about it', he couldn't even imagine having to listen through this, once a month, for five decades. He might have just gone mad and set the whole thing on fire.

Even if he wanted to concentrate, he found it spectacularly impossible; the reports ranged from ‘we had eight new babies born yesterday’ to ‘we buried an old lady and her daughter stole an apple’. Nothing of interest was said, and certainly nothing he could use. Had he not chiseled his patience over thirty plus years as a soldier and a mercenary, he might have really dropped dead right then and there. His attention, however, was awakened when he suddenly became a center of the attention, on the mention of one of the men seated on the Royal Table – Noah quickly recognized the man from his portraits, Sigmund O’vorell, the Second Prince.

The man appeared to be Noah’s age, sporting the crystal-like blue eyes and dead-night dark hair. His expression, in alignment with everyone seated around him, was indifferent, but his eyes spoke curiosity he was unable to hide.

“Young Sister,” he said. “I fail to see the old man Vorvil today with us; one of the few bright spots of this bore were his quips and hollow laughs. Were you not content with providing us a faint sense of joy that you had to replace him with another stone-statue made of silence?" a few strained laughs rang out throughout the hall as countless pairs of eyes fell onto Noah. However, he remained entirely focused on Sigmund's, smiling faintly as he replied, much to Olivia's dismay – as she was trying desperately to hide the wreck she was currently inwardly.

“I’ve got plenty quips and hollow laughs myself, Your Highness,” Noah replied in a humble tone, bowing slightly. “If you would allow me.”

“Allow you? Please, save us all,” Sigmund said, spreading his arms. “At this rate, I might genuinely forget I am alive. Do remind me.”

“… if you could believe it,” Noah said, seemingly unaffected by the countless eyes still focused on him. “I spent the entire last night wondering where the sun was; then, out of nowhere, it dawned on me.”

“…” there was a temporary silence, one within which a pin dropping would echo out like a bomb, but Noah remained patient, still looking into Sigmund’s eyes that slowly began twitching. Unable to hold it any longer, the man burst out into laughter, followed by several others, until the entire hall was ringing true to the low-brow humor.

“Ho ho ho, an interesting man you have found, little Ollie,” even the King joined the conversation, slightly to Noah’s dismay as he hardly wanted to enter the man’s radar this early on, but, perhaps, it was better this way. “Tell us, Dacent, that was not the only one.”

“Hardly, Your Majesty,” Noah turned toward the King and bowed while the laughter slowly ceased, a few more eyes’ indifferent looks turning somewhat expectant. “If I may be so bold as to ask, what do you think the sea said to the land, Your Majesty?”

“… what?” King Jovyer asked after a brief thought, shaking his head.

“Nothing—” Noah said. “It simply waved.” After another brief silence, another round of laughter exploded while Noah continued rolling his eyes inwardly. I bet I can even use the chicken crossing the road and these idiots would still laugh…

“… Young Sister, I will pay you a thousand Crowns to give him to me!” Sigmund suddenly sounded out, laughing fully.

“E-eh? W-what?” Olivia, as confused as she was overjoyed, rattled back into her chair, unsure as to how to reply.

“Just a thousand? You are fairly cheap, Young Brother,” the First Prince, Evon O’vorell, a decently handsome man who had just turned fifty, sporting golden hair and a pair of sky-blue eyes, joined in on the fun as well. “You spent a thousand alone during your last month’s visit to the ‘poor parts of the lands’.” Sigmund glanced at the First Prince emptily for a moment, Noah spotting a flash of deep-seated hostility within his eyes for a moment, before curling his lips into a smile.

“You are right, Eldest Brother,” he said. “How about this,” Noah, as well as many others, immediately sensed a change in the atmosphere as the faint chuckles vanished immediately, replaced by tension. “If you make a quip at my dearest brother’s expense – nothing too harsh, of course, just a bit of silly humor – I will personally gift you a thousand Crowns.”

“…” the crowd silenced immediately, as even Noah picked up the implications despite having just started learning of the Kingdom’s ways. Neither the King nor the Queen said anything, merely taking a sip of tea, seeming even somewhat expectant. Noah, however, was all but; naturally, he had no intention of actually making a joke about the Eldest Prince, but he also had to somehow find a way to reject the Second’s Prince request without burning that bridge.

“Fear not, Dacent,” Evon suddenly spoke as Noah met the pair of blue eyes. "Go ahead and indulge my silly, younger brother. I swear upon the Light of my Heart, whatever you may say, I shall not only do nothing about it but will laugh myself. Why pass on the free thousand Crowns?"

“…” Noah remained temporarily silent, enduring the Prince’s gaze. He saw no hidden intent, but it was hard to trust that feeling as he was not a young lad like Olivia – he was a seasoned politician himself, having spent almost forty years of his life chiseling the persona he showed in these halls. For all he knew, if Noah did actually make a joke, he might just be visited by a dagger later tonight.

“I concur,” the King suddenly said. “Make your quip, Dacent. I promise your safety.” What’s with their obsession with the fucking quips?! Noah imploded inwardly as there was no way he could refuse the ‘offer’ now. Why did I open my fucking lips?! Aah, I’ll have to hide in the walls for months until these idiots forget I even exist… fuck, I should have just rejected Olivia’s invitation… no matter how much he cursed out the current set of events, they weren’t actually all that bad – after all, one thing he needed the most right now was money. And a thousand Crowns was like a free rainfall during the drought.

“Very well, then,” he took a deep breath and spoke out. “Do forgive my transgression, Your Highness.”

“Of course.” Evon nodded, taking a sip of wine while leaning back into his chair, smiling faintly.

"… I was wondering," Noah said, wondering himself inwardly as to whether he'd regret it. Yet, a thousand Crowns remained as tempting as the promise of protection from the King. "As an outsider, what is Your Highness' opinion on the human race?"

"…" a momentary lull was broken up immediately by Sigmund's bellied laughter as he threw his head back and roared; even the King was unable to resist the desire for much longer, letting out a few laughs as well, soon followed by every other member of Royalty, even Evon himself who shook his head amidst the laughter, getting up and clapping all of a sudden.

"Well worthy a thousand Crowns indeed," he said, raising his cup toward Noah. "As an outsider… ha ha ha, I believe, as the person upon whom it was directed, I do have the right to steal it on occasion, no?”

“Of course, Your Highness.”

“Good man, good man,” Sigmund continued laughing well after everyone stopped. “I will send little Ollie a thousand Crowns by the day’s end, Dacent. I trust my sister will pass them onto you.”

“O-of course, Elder Brother.” Olivia said, alarms ringing out like fires inside her mind as she tried to process today’s events, swearing she’ll never take the Outlander to any other meeting until the day she died. I can’t unleash that tongue on the world again, she said, sweating coldly. It might be just as bad as our planned treason…