CHAPTER 25

“Despair… is the window to Happiness…”

I

“Shajou.”

The ten-year-old looked up from the book he was reading to see the caller. He shut his book and stood up tentatively when he saw it was his Master Lazachus.

“Good morning, Master Lazachus,” he greeted politely.

“A very good morning to you, too, Shajou,” Lazachus smiled kindly at him. He entered his apprentice’s quarters and sat on the couch which Shajou was sitting on seconds ago. He beckoned for him to sit beside him. Shajou obediently did so.

“Let’s see what you’ve been up to,” muttered Lazachus light-heartedly. He picked up the book on the couch and read the title aloud, “A Brief History of Aircrafts—Theory in Flying.” He clicked his tongue disapprovingly. “Shajou, I don’t think a ten-year-old like you should be reading books such as this one here.”

“Why should I not, Master? I like it,” answered Shajou frankly.

Lazachus chuckled, “Do you mean to tell me you are actually interested in flying an aircraft one day?” He nodded eagerly. “But I’ve taught you how to operate a Z-Gene. I thought you love Midnight Chaos.”

Shajou looked at his feet. He thought about his Z-Tech Templar, Midnight Chaos. It was a magnificent creation, ranking the second most powerful in hierarchy of the Z-Gene of the Darkness. Midnight Chaos was presented to him a year ago after being acknowledged as a true apprentice of his master. It was his precious treasure ever since. He let no one near it except for the maintenance team at the hangar.

“I do love Midnight Chaos. It’s easy to handle…”

“Yet, because it is easy to handle, you have the inquisitive interest to master the skills of flying a much-harder-to-control machine called the aircraft,” interjected Lazachus. Shajou gazed at him in amazement. It was exactly how his mind spoke. “You are my first true apprentice, Shajou. I should know, more than anyone else, how you think.”

The boy was suddenly vigilant. There was something in Lazachus’ words which unsettled him. I should know, more than anyone else, how you think. He could feel his master examining his conscience and inner thoughts. Was it possible that he had discovered his chanced meeting with Calith? He collected his cool and played his best poker face.

“I will allow you to go on an intensive flying course if you are such an enthusiast of it, Shajou,” Lazachus finally said. “But not today, because there is a mission I need you to carry out for me.”

He felt himself loosen up. “I am listening, Master Lazachus.”

“Very good…”

II

Currently, Raviex and his original party, along with Visanté and the two new friends they met, were at the Snare. The foreigners had not expected that the Snare was actually an open ground, guarded by torn and unused buildings. Even for daring patriots, Raviex felt it unsafe to discuss a matter as confidential as the preparation of battle at such a public venue.

There were still thirty minutes to spare before the supposed time of the gathering and Visanté had left them to carry out his scouting duty in case there were intruders. They decided to utilise the time more efficiently by getting to know one another better as according to Sonia, communication and understanding between members would ensure flawless teamwork.

“Understanding…” muttered Kyoden, scratching his chin. “Oh, yes! Shenjoon and Yexi, I’d really want to know about how you two started your love story!”

Shenjoon coughed and glanced sideways at his wife. “Why do people always ask that question, Yexi? It is utmost awkward!”

The dark-skinned girl chuckled. “There is no love story between Shenjoon and I. When I was very small, I was taken and raised in the Tao-Yang family without knowing my real parents. I was twelve and Shenjoon was nine when his parents arranged for our marriage. Mama and Papa are very kind to me and they wanted me to feel loved and that I belonged in a family.”

“That’s it?” said Kyoden rather disappointedly. “I mean, it was just to make sure you belonged to a family?”

“Oh, but I do care for Shenjoon a lot!” she put in, giggling despite herself.

The young teenager scowled at her candour, though he must admit, he was actually delighted about it. “For one thing, Shenjoon was often sick when he was younger. Being his wife, I am mostly responsible of taking care of his health. Thank Elinas he is now a healthy youth,” Yexi added.

Raviex and Kyoden sighed admirably at Shenjoon. “Some people have all the luck,” commented Kyoden as he grasped his shoulder. “Shenjoon, you are one lucky man. I wish I have a wife like yours.”

The boy shifted towards them and made sure Yexi could not hear them as he whispered, “Don’t be fooled by her. She can be awfully mean at times!”

The two laughed at his remark. “I suppose that is why we say, ‘nothing is perfect in this world’,” said Raviex, grinning.

“Of course not,” he agreed dryly. “My marriage for the past four years doesn’t really make sense at all. I think Yexi is more like my sister than my own wife!”

“Ah, the boy doesn’t know what ‘love’ is just yet.” Kyoden nudged Raviex good-naturedly. “Shenjoon, when you know what ‘love’ is, you will see things differently, trust me.” Shenjoon looked thoughtful about it for a moment but waved it aside just as quickly, uninterested.

Meanwhile, the girls had their own session of conversation. “So, do tell me, are your in-laws Daiburno people as well?” asked Sonia casually. “From Shenjoon’s appearance, they look like Haikenese.”

“Oh no, they’re not Haikenese. They are Flamese. Shenjoon’s parents migrated from Flame City to Daiburn City due to family business somewhat fifteen years ago,” explained Yexi politely.

The girls nodded. Daiburn City was situated on the west side of the world map. Though a desert city, it was the thriving place for merchants and artisans from all over the Kingdom to congregate and do business. It was also known as the largest port city in the world. Bearing the title, ‘The City of Inspiration’, both cultural and modern art and music were unquestionably abundant there.

“Are you Shenjoon’s teacher in martial arts?” It was Christine’s turn to ask.

“Dear me, no, he learnt from Grandpapa. In spite of his poor health when he was a child, he is always quick with his limbs. No one at home could catch him besides me.” She gave a small laugh. Christine thought it was very comfortable listening to her voice. It sounded so much like a piece of music of its own, cheery and bright.

“Besides you?” repeated Sonia enquiringly.

“In a certain area, wherever there is sound or vibrations in the air, even the beating of the heart, I can hear it. Shenjoon can never run away from me, no matter how many times he tries,” Yexi chuckled with a particular air of smugness. “Of course, generally, I try to keep my hearing senses to an average person’s to avoid unwarranted acts of eavesdropping!”

“Fascinating ability that is of the Yamist of Inspiration!” complimented Sonia. She noted the ability of hers mentally. It might be useful for further reference. One, if skilled, could hide the aura of his Sacred Energy, but it was impossible for anyone to conceal the beating of his heart.

“I observed Shenjoon’s movement earlier on when he tossed the wine urn. It was simply… proficient!” mentioned Christine almost excitedly.

Yexi nodded. “Compared to normal boys of his age, Shenjoon seems to be harbouring quite a surprising amount of Sacred Energy. But since Grandpapa is not a Lundea, he was not taught to mould any skills using Sacred Energy. All of his abilities are physical-based. And unlike us, Shenjoon sustains his stamina in battle by using his family’s legacy, Tao-yang Energy.”

“Is he aware of his identity as a Lundea?” asked Lorenne who was quiet all the while.

“Yes, I told him about it. Perhaps it is because of his naivety that he is not very enthusiastic over it even after the discovery,” she answered. “He was blessed by Elinas at birth, hence his sound-based Sacred Energy.”

The group ended their chats as soon as Visanté returned from scouting and informed them that the people were here. The atmosphere quickly changed to a stern one, which Raviex did not exactly like for it reminded him so very well of the conferences he had on the Floating Land.

Another half of an hour passed before the Kazan rebels were entirely assembled. It was a surprisingly huge crowd. There were young and old, men and women alike. The division between the two groups were patent. Led by Kishak, his followers stood on the left side of the site whereas, divided by a gap, Visanté and the other Kazans stood on the right side. No two persons from both sides exchanged greetings or smiles, instead, cold-shouldering was seen.

“My brothers and sisters, we are present today by the will of the Light. Let us be reminded that we are in the eyes of the gods. Let our speeches, actions, and thoughts be pleasing to the Light, lest we bring down the holy wrath upon ourselves. May the Ancient Spirit guide us; may the Ancient Laws guard us, from men’s evil and temptation of the Darkness… Our prayer to the Light.”

“May the grace of the Light be upon us,” responded the crowd of roughly one thousand people to Yexi’s prayer of dedication to the Light. She had spoken the prayer in the hopes that the gods would guide them throughout their missions as well as to unite the separated groups of people by reminding them that they were of the same side and faith.

A mild disturbance was heard as the crowd began whispering amongst themselves again. Kishak, being an authoritarian, cleared his throat aloud, as he spoke. “Tell us, Yamist of Inspiration, the reason you gather us here at this hour. Perhaps Visanté and his group would like to resume their planned strike against Lord Dymaz now.”

Kishak’s men sneered and laughed in mockery. Visanté extended one hand to prevent Ismael from charging at the elder man and held up the other hand as a sign to the others who were with him to be patient and calm.

“No one will be battling Lord Dymaz on this day,” announced Yexi, steadfast. “You will not be able to free Kaza City from where you are right now. Look at yourselves! You are all the people of this city, yet you claw at each other! No army can defeat its enemy while tearing itself apart from within!”

Raviex gazed at her admiringly. Her words were simple but it was sufficient to throw the crowd onto the route of repenting for their mistakes. Already, the result was showing. The men looked reflective and guilty. Could it be that the gods were speaking through her?

“A stick by itself breaks easily, but if a bundle of them, they stay strong. So, why do you separate yourselves and let your enemy trample on you like miserable dirt? Your enemy laughs at you when you plot against him and your own ally!” she continued intensely.

“United or not, we cannot defeat Lord Dymaz! His men are too powerful!” objected a short man unhelpfully. “With only ten men, he effortlessly squashed all our radical movements.”

Yexi understood his fear and did not blame him for it. “That’s because you have not been fighting against a group of men but puppets. The ten-men-army can only be vanquished if their puppeteer is being attacked directly.”

The horror spread like wildfire. There was instant comprehension—and misconception. There were audible panicky cries of ‘pontianak’ among the people. Lorenne frowned but shook her head and decided it was impossible to correct and tell one thousand of them it was wrong to label the puppeteer as a vampire. The foreigners quickly became worried as the situation turned chaotic.

The brown-haired one parted her lips and sang a melody in an unknown language. Through her abilities, her stunning voice was magnified so that everyone could hear. When her singing reached the ears of the people, they calmed down. Their countenance was peaceful.

“She has such a beautiful voice,” Kyoden sighed airily. Shenjoon and Raviex nodded. Christine and Lorenne were too occupied listening to her, savouring the sweet singing whereas Sonia was busy observing the effects of her singing on the listeners and taking mental notes. ‘You may never know when it would come in handy,’ she thought to herself.

When she stopped singing, she had gained everyone’s attention. She smiled kindly. “People of Kaza City, stand by to your faith in the Light. I have already told you, the Light will not let their people be alone to face their troubles. They have already presented to you their chosen warriors in your midst but how could you have been so blind as to not see them?”

Her eyes swept over the crowd. “This is my first promised revelation to you: the revealing of the chosen warriors of the Light.”

“Tell us who they are, the chosen ones!” shouted the people hopefully.

“They are standing here, before you,” answered Yexi. “Visanté Pyralis, the Yamist of Bravery, and Ismael Deya, the Messenger of Bravery, have been here with you all along but it is you yourselves who refused to listen to them because you gave into your stubbornness.”

Their friends patted their backs in support, making Visanté and Ismael blush. The people of the other party were regretful. Kishak, however, still refused to acknowledge his mistake. He crossed his arms and looked away from them.

“And when the Light sent five strangers along your path, you rejected them and were hostile to them. But you were ignorant for they had sent the Yamist of Righteousness, Christine Falcon, the Yamist of Wisdom, Lorenne Fierell, the Messenger of Wisdom, Sonia Fierell and the Messenger of Prosperity, Kyoden Kaneshiro.”

Visanté gaped at the group. He felt almost foolish to have taken them as the undercover agents for the Prince. Kyoden winked and grinned at him, giving him a thumb-up. After the destruction of the shrine of Zephod, his powers as a Yamist had reduced tremendously. He was unable to sense the unique Sacred Energy of the four, hence, unable to identify them.

Everyone was amazed. It was rare enough to meet two Yamists at the same time but right then, they were witnessing the sight of four Yamists and four Messengers standing together, sharing the same ground. It was an act of love of the Light to their people, sending their hand-picked warriors to aid them in battle.

“The Light has seen your weaknesses and gives you the reason to unite, for your faith and for your Kingdom,” said Yexi. She turned around and faced Raviex. It took him by surprise. Suddenly, Letaikno freed itself from its sheath behind its back. It hovered a few feet above Raviex, with its tip pointing at the heavens. The people watched in wonder.

“Sword of the Light, Letaikno, by thy will, reveal your master’s place before his people!” she spoke loudly but humbly, looking up at it.

There was a burst of incredible radiance of gold as Letaikno altered into its grand and legendary features. A streak of dazzling multi-colour fire materialised from Amaea and inflamed the two sides of the blade. Ancient words in peculiar symbols, which told about the Ancient Prophecy, were seared, onto the sword in living fire. Two jewels of hexagon shape formed on each side of Letaikno: one was as red as fresh blood and the other as blue as the Phillarion Sea. Lastly, two vines of pure gold grew from the bottom of the blade and entwined one another just above the jewels, then froze in place.

When the people saw it was indeed Letaikno, they gasped at the realisation. They dared not looked at the Prince in the eye out of self-humiliation. What did they do to deserve such an honour to be able to stand on the same level as him? How could they withstand the guiltiness of false accusation on him when the Sword of Katelion was willing to prove his righteousness? They fell to their knees simultaneously and bowed down.

Raviex took a step back. He had not expected the event. He looked at his friends. They, too, smiled at him and did the same as a sign of loyalty and respect. Letaikno descended and hovered at eye level before him. A strange communication flowed between master and sword.

I chose you, you did not choose me. I have marked you, just as how the Light has marked King Leo Katelion, your ancestor, the First King. I have acknowledged you and I will surrender all my powers to you. Wield me in the name of Happiness, Love, Peace, Inspiration, Wisdom, Prosperity, Bravery, Strength, Justice, and Righteousness…

Suddenly, the sword’s radiance dispersed. Raviex caught the hilt with his right hand before it fell to the ground. He smiled as he remembered the spoken words. It would be a solemn oath he would carry with him till the day he breathed his last.

“For all the praises must be given to the Light!” the Prince commanded to his people.

“Glory to the Light and blessings to our King!” answered all who were on their knees. They rose with a new burning spirit. Lorenne smiled as she released the veil she had cast around the ground the moment the gathering had started. It had been on Yexi’s request. Whatever happened within the veil, remained within the veil.

With the second revelation revealed, you will face justice, Lord Dymaz, vowed Yexi.

III

The door leading to Sir Damien’s home-office flung open. The discussion between the Royal Advisor and the colonel was interrupted rudely. A pompous man, who was supporting a round belly, strode in arrogantly; his piece of suit was without a single wrinkle but had neat pressed lines.

“Good morning, Sir Damien,” the short man greeted, straightening his gold-coloured tie, which looked quite straight enough without his unnecessary fiddling. He had greying brown hair which he combed neatly in place.

“What is the honour which I owe to, to have the Grand Duke in my home and office?” said Sir Damien, hiding his sarcastic tone.

“Good morning, Your Excellency,” Erik greeted him, bowing.

“Move aside while I speak to the Royal Advisor,” ordered the Grand Duke snappily, waving his hand in an impatient gesture, as if it hurt his eyes to look at him. Erik smiled pleasantly, however, and was about to leave before Sir Damien interrupted.

“My deepest apologies, Grand Duke, but I have important business to attend to with my officer.” His aquamarine eyes held their gaze with the man’s narrow and pale-blue eyes.

Grand Duke Percival made a move towards him and glared at him threateningly. “Do not fool around with me, Royal Advisor. The Prince is not available, so let me warn you, I will not let any of your offence against me get away so easily.”

Sir Damien inhaled to control his anger. “What is your purpose here?” he asked.

The other man suddenly backed away and smiled. “Since we’re all up to being straightforward, then, I won’t be playing games too,” he said, his pale-blue eyes gleamed. “You know why I am here, Sir Damien, let’s not pretend.”

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I don’t think I am a psychic, Your Excellency,” replied Sir Damien, his voice dripping with sarcasm this time.

Erik swore he saw the Grand Duke’s nostrils flared as his face flushed a deep crimson. Though he shared the same blood as the Prince, Erik thought he had none of the material in him to be part of the Royal Family at all.

“The Prince is gone. The Kingdom needs a new ruler to be assured off its politics and Kingdom’s welfare,” said Grand Duke Percival finally.

“And who do Your Excellency suggest?” interjected Sir Damien.

“I am a descendant of King Leo and I am closest in line to the throne.” He was blunt for he did not try to camouflage his intention. There was no need for it.

“Allow me to remind you that you are but a son of a princess. According to the law, you are illegitimate to be King, not even to be in line,” said Sir Damien coolly.

The colonel concealed a smirk. He had never seen Sir Damien as sardonic as he was at the time. He definitely took his hat off at the senior man. The Grand Duke was infamous for his repressive behaviour and snobbishness. He thought it really served him right to be rebuked so sharply by Sir Damien.

“King Levon had only one son, Sir Damien. With no one to replace the Prince, the Kingdom will be in turmoil. I will have the Supreme Council and the members of the King’s Court convinced to unanimously break the traditional law,” announced the Grand Duke.

“Why bother telling me?” he asked, though he really could not care less.

“I thought you, as the Royal Advisor, ought to know what is going on,” said Grand Duke Percival smugly. “I am only informing you because I know your old heart won’t be able to handle the shock if I were declared ‘King’.”

Sir Damien clenched his fist behind his back. “Beware with your actions and words, Your Excellency. Do not let me catch you on treachery against the Prince. Six months… that was the declared date. Until then, the throne belongs solely to Prince Raviex.”

“We will see about that.” The man turned his back on him. “Good day!” He stormed out of the room, fuming.

Erik went up to the grey-haired man who had sunk into his armchair. “Well done, sir,” he said quietly. He knew it was an arduous task to put up with him.

“I don’t know how long I can live through this, Erik…” he sighed, massaging his temper wearily from the offensive debate with the Grand Duke.