Even Alberic was looking tired and irritable by the day's end. The sun's rays had taken on a reddish hue, casting a warm glow over the throne room as they shone through the enormous stained glass windows that dominated the upper reaches of the west wall. The crowd of applicants in the chamber had thinned considerably, leaving mostly small pockets of nobles conversing quietly near the pillars that supported the arched ceiling.
Amethyst was about to ask to be excused when a member of the Royal Guard approached the raised dais. Kneeling before Amethyst and Alberic, the guard waited for permission to speak.
“What is it, soldier?” asked the king, curiosity in his voice.
“Your Majesty, a man has come to the castle, claiming to be a messenger. He requests an audience with you and the princess.”
“Then he should have come at an earlier hour,” Alberic said with a scowl. “Tell him he can wait until tomorrow.”
The guard looked up, furrowing his brow. “My king...”
Alberic thumped the tip of his cane against the stone tile. “Was I unclear?”
“No, Your Majesty, but he did not request a public audience, he requested a private one. He said that the matter is of utmost importance.”
Alberic sighed and sat back in his throne. “I will be the judge of the importance of his request. Send him in. If he wastes my time, I'll have him thrown out of the castle.”
The guard bowed his head. “Yes, my king,” he said before he hurried back out through the massive double doors of the throne room. There was a quiet buzz in the chamber as the remaining courtiers whispered and spoke amongst themselves, the anticipation in the room almost tangible. It wasn't often that things like this happened, and it was sure to be the talk of the castle for weeks to come.
Why someone would want to meet with her as well as her father, Amethyst had no idea. Perhaps some lord was making a grand, attention-grabbing gesture to try to earn her hand in marriage? She had read about elaborate stunts in the past, when this or that noble aspired to marry into the royal family. She had already turned down several suitors, but this didn't seem quite the same. She sat upright on her throne, her hands clasped in her lap, waiting for the guard to return. She hoped that her father granted the audience – she was very curious as to what the messenger had to say.
Shortly, the guard returned, leading a figure in a brown robe into the throne room. The clothing was simple in its design, its sharp, angular cuts striking despite its lack of flair. The robe hung down to the figure's knees, with sleeves long enough to cover the man's arms and a hood that was pulled up over his head. Below the robe, the figure wore basic woven trousers, cut from the same fabric as the robe, with shoes that seemed ill-suited for traveling, yet sturdy nonetheless.
The man strode up to the foot of the dais and bowed, pushing the hood back from his face. He was indeed a human, as the guard had said, his skin tanned to almost a golden brown, much like the crust of a loaf of bread. Despite the color of his skin, his eyes were a piercing blue above his sharp cheekbones, and were fixed upon Amethyst. A slight smile graced his thin lips, and he lowered his head in deference to Alberic.
“Your Majesty,” he said, keeping his head bowed, “thank you for seeing me this evening. I bring urgent news from my master in the Northlands.”
Alberic raised an eyebrow and sat forward. “The Northlands? Where in the Northlands do you hail from? Who is your master?”
The man straightened, clasping his hands together and letting his sleeves fall forward to cover them. “My master currently resides on the great Stromgard mountain, near the city of Valtheim. He bid me come to you and request a meeting with you and the princess in private, to deliver his message and extend his offer.” He smiled, inclining his head toward Alberic. “He suggested discretion would be a better option than a public audience.”
Alberic narrowed his eyes. “I'll ask again, and if you do not answer me, then you will be removed from this city. Who is your master?”
The man stood up straighter. “My master's name is Giriraj. He is a powerful man from the east, who has influence over... a great many things.”
Amethyst turned to her father to see what he would say. She had never heard of anyone named Giriraj, and the name itself was foreign, exotic, and strange. The messenger said he was from the east, but if so, what was he doing in the Northlands? The men of the North weren't exactly renowned for being accepting of foreigners.
Alberic met Amethyst's eyes. “What do you think?”
She considered for a moment before she responded. “I think that we should hear his message, if nothing else. It costs us nothing to listen.”
Alberic nodded. “You speak truth. Very well.” He turned back to the messenger and stood, pushing himself up with his cane. “We will meet with you shortly. You will be escorted to the library, where you will await our arrival. What is your name?”
The man bowed again. “I am called Rasul. It means 'messenger' in my homeland.”
“That is quite a fitting name, then. Very well, Rasul, we shall meet with you shortly.”
Alberic held a hand out to Amethyst, leading her out of the throne room while Rasul was escorted to the library. Alberic leaned against his cane while Amethyst held his hand, superficially supporting him as they walked side by side. When they had left the vaulted chamber, she looked up at her father questioningly.
“Why did we not accompany him directly to the library? Why the pretext of making him wait?”
“Several reasons,” Alberic said, moving slowly up the hall. “First, if we were to appear too eager, that would put us at a disadvantage. He would know he had something that we wanted – in this case, information – and would be in a better position for any sort of bargaining that might occur. Second, if we appear too eager in court, then it can affect how the nobles see us. Some could believe that we are playing favorites with foreign dignitaries, or that we are less loyal to our own countrymen, or any number of other things that might flutter through their heads.”
He shook his head as they rounded a corner. “No, it is better to always maintain the overt appearance of having – and maintaining – the upper hand. Often, the appearance of power is just as important as actual power.”
Amethyst frowned. “Why does curiosity mean one lacks power? Isn't a desire for more knowledge a strength, whereas closed-mindedness or arrogance is a weakness?”
Alberic chuckled. “It would be wonderful if it were that simple. Unfortunately, we do not live in a utopia, where what should be, is. We must meet the world as it comes to us, and more often than not, it comes to us on terms other than our own.”
When they reached Amethyst's chamber, Alberic pushed the door open and gestured for her to enter. “Wait here for me to send word that you are to join us in the library. When I am certain that this messenger poses no threat and that his message is decent, then I will send a guard or priest to fetch you.”
Amethyst stepped obediently into her chamber. “I don't understand why I can't accompany you immediately,” she said, crossing her arms over her chest. “If he would pose a threat to me, then he would pose a threat to you, and I'm just a princess. You're the king.”
Alberic pointed his cane at her. “And you're the future of this kingdom. Do as I say, my dear, and for once, try not to argue.” With that, he closed the door, leaving her alone in her chamber.
She sat on the edge of her bed, pouting. The princesses in the books she read acted with impunity, doing more or less as they wished. Some of them even rode dragons to far off lands to have grand adventures, meeting fantastical people and seeing wondrous sights. They weren't locked in their rooms or told to stay put and follow orders unless they were trapped in a tower, awaiting some gallant knight to come to their rescue.
She paced around her room, waiting for word to arrive from her father. As the minutes ticked by, she grew more and more impatient, until she felt she might burst. She walked up to the door to the hallway, weighing whether or not to disobey her father's
orders, go to the library, and listen in on the meeting. She was reaching for the handle when a knock startled her.
“Princess Leonus?” came the strong voice from behind the door, definitely not one of the priests.
Quickly, she stepped back by the bed and sat down, smoothing her dress over her lap. “You may enter,” she said, setting her hands in her lap.
The door swung inwards, revealing a member of the Royal Guard, clad shoulder to toe in solid plate armor, his blue and red tabard trimmed with gold, with a stylized lion's head embroidered on the front.
“The King requests your presence in the library.”
Amethyst stood, keeping her hands clasped in front of her. “Of course. Lead the way.”
Chapter Two
2nd Waning Frost Moon, Year 4367
The double doors of the library were intricately carved with a scene of two scholars. Each sat at a desk, facing the other as they conversed over a large tome laid out between them. The library was depicted behind them, seeming to stretch off into the distance though the carving was only a few inches deep. The craftsman who had sculpted the scene in the thick timbers had indeed been a master.
The guard that escorted her from her chamber pushed the doors open and stood at attention.
“Her Majesty, Princess Amethyst Leonus has arrived!”
As she stepped into the enormous room, she saw her father seated near a crackling hearth, Rasul across from him. They both stood as she entered, and she curtsied to them before standing with her hands clasped in front of her, awaiting further instruction. All of this was standard protocol for a lady of the court when in the presence of the king, and though she was his daughter and heiress to the throne, the expectations placed upon her were no different.
Rasul bowed low in greeting, while her father stood straight, looking on. “Amethyst, come here and have a seat. Our guest does indeed have important news that you should be privy to.”
“Yes, Father.”
When she had taken her place, Rasul sat down as well. “As King Alberic has mentioned,” he said, addressing Amethyst directly, “I am here with news from my master, Giriraj. He is not a king or lord as you may know them, but he is a powerful man nonetheless. He is a member of an organization known by many names, but you may know it as the Council of Masters.” He lifted an eyebrow, inclining his head slightly towards Amethyst. “Do you know of this Council?”
Slowly, Amethyst nodded. “I am aware of it, yes. My tutors seem to find the topic distasteful, and there is a lack of texts about it in our library.”
Rasul chuckled. “If your library is tended by priests, it would be no wonder as to why. Their kind is not fond of ours. Though we use the same forces, we see those forces as tools, whereas they call them gods.”
He waved his hand dismissively. “I am not here, though, to talk about religion or cosmology. I am here to talk about my master. You are aware of the elements, I am assuming?”
Again, Amethyst nodded. “Yes, I am.”
“Tell them to me, if you please.”
She turned to look at Alberic, and he nodded. “Earth, Fire, Water, and Air are the four primary elements,” she said. “Their gods are Terra, Ignis, Aqua, and Aeros. The secondary elements are Creation, Destruction, Chaos, and Order. Their gods are Vita, Mortus, Luna, and Luxa.”
Rasul smiled. “I see that you mentioned Terra, the goddess of Earth, first. Most people mention Fire first, since he is the most powerful of the primary gods. Why did you choose Terra?”
Amethyst frowned, slightly uncomfortable at being questioned. “I am most fond of Terra and the stories of her and her acolytes.”
“Do you also have a fondness for stones and crystals, minerals and metals?”
She shifted in her seat. “I do.”
“And that earthquake that happened two days ago, on the full moon. You felt it, yes?”
She furrowed her brow. “I did, but there are dozens of earthquakes here every year. I don't understand what that has to do with me.”
Rasul looked to Alberic. “With your permission, Your Majesty, I would like to have the Princess choose between four crystals, as a test.”
Alberic held up a hand. “As you will.”
Rasul reached into the folds of his robe, and pulled out a small pouch, held closed with a golden drawstring. Pulling it open, he gently dumped four identical crystals onto the small table between him and Amethyst. He arranged them side by side and sat back.
“This is an elementary test,” he said, extending a hand towards the crystals. “All I want you to do is to concentrate on these crystals and try to pick the one that you feel most drawn to. They all look the same, and I do not want you to pick them up or examine them, but by looking at them and focusing on them, I want you to choose one. When you do, reach forward and hand it to me.”
Amethyst sat forward looking over the crystals. “I understand.”
They were each about four inches long and as thick as her thumb. They looked very much like rock crystals, the same type as the large one she had on her desk in her room. Clear and hexagonal, they came to blunt points on either side. She could see tiny inclusions in them, each reflecting a slight rainbow sheen from their surfaces inside the crystal.
She furrowed her brow. She didn't know which one to pick. They were so similar there weren't really any differences to make her prefer one over the other. She glanced up at Rasul and saw him watching her intently. Looking back down, she started to extend out her hand, then paused. Of all the crystals, the one to the right of center seemed like the one to pick up. Making her decision, she reached for it.
Just before she touched the crystal, a brilliant purple flash emanated from its depths, nearly blinding her. She jerked her hand back and covered her eyes, but something slapped into her palm. Instinctively, she grabbed it, flinching away from the impact.
When she opened her eyes, she saw Rasul and Alberic staring at her, both with surprised expressions on their faces. In her hand was the crystal she had been reaching for, glowing with a dim purple light. It was warm in her hand, comfortable, almost like it was a part of her. It pulsed with the same rhythm as her heartbeat, the glow becoming brighter and dimmer in time with her breathing – it was like it was synced to her in every possible way.
“Well,” Rasul said, nearly a whisper. “I have never seen that happen before.”
Alberic gripped the arms of his chair, staring at Amethyst. “What does it mean?”
Rasul leaned forward, gathering up the three remaining stones, which had been scattered across the tabletop. “These four crystals are infused with the primary elements.” He held his hand out for the one in Amethyst's hand, and she gave it to him, watching the light fade as it left her grasp. “Normally, the candidate is either attracted to the right crystal or not. I have never seen it emit light, nor have I ever seen it move of its own volition.”
He held the crystal up before putting it back into the bag. “This is indeed the crystal that is infused with the element of Earth.” He looked up at Amethyst as he pulled on the drawstrings to close the bag. “You must be powerfully attuned to my master's element. That is what we suspected, and it is why I am here. My master finds himself in need of an apprentice, and only those with potential in the element of Earth are suitable to learn from him.”
He sat back, secreting the bag away into the folds of his robes. “You show more potential than any other Hopefuls that I have met. Despite the fact that you are an elf, my master would like to extend the offer to join in the Choosing.”
Alberic shook his head. “Absolutely not.”
Amethyst looked to her father, a frown crossing her face. “Absolutely not?” she asked, her tone sharp.
The king shot a warning glance at his daughter. “This is neither the time nor the place for us to discuss this.”
“Then when is the time and place?” Amethyst snapped. “After the chance has passed?”
Alberic slowly rose to his feet, keeping his eyes locked on Ameth
yst. “Not here, not now.”
Rasul hastily stood. “Your Majesties, I will excuse myself so that you may discuss this in private. May I have your guardsman escort me to a place where I can find food and drink?”
Without looking away from his daughter, Alberic nodded. “Ask the guard outside to lead you to the banquet hall. Supper should be starting soon, and you will find a seat and good company there. We will join you after we have come to an understanding.”
Rasul bowed and quickly left the library, closing the door quietly.
Alberic stood over Amethyst, who remained seated, glaring up at him. She was furious that he would arbitrarily ban her from pursuing what could be the biggest opportunity of her life, to be something more than a lady of the court. Her alabaster cheeks were flushed crimson, the heat of her anger plain on her face.
“Amethyst, you do not know this man or his master, or the nature of men outside these walls,” Alberic said. “Even if this offer – this request for you to become an apprentice to some wizard in the Northlands – is genuine, you cannot begin to imagine the risk it would be for you to go. It is unacceptable, and I cannot allow it.”
“But it isn't your choice to make,” she protested, pushing herself to her feet. Even though her father was slightly bent, leaning on his cane, he still stood almost a foot taller than her. “This is a decision for me, in my life, which direction and path I want to take! Can't you see that?”
“I am your king, and your father!” Alberic shouted, his composure breaking for one of the first times Amethyst had witnessed. “What I say will be so, and I say that you will not leave this castle!”
She did not back down, stepping into Alberic's anger. “Do you really think that if I choose to leave, you would be able to stop me? Would you make me a prisoner in my own home, to keep me locked up like a bird in a cage? Is that all I am to you, some... thing to marvel at from time to time when it suits you? What about what I want? What about what I desire for my life? Does that mean nothing?”
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