"Hault; state your business." The mecha-armed guard held his prosthetic limb up, faintly whirring fingers spread as a visual gesture to compliment his serious tone. He did not seem hostile or overly brutish toward the approaching Ziyadah. The mocha skinned once-smith was well known, but procedures were procedures.
Zi lifted his goggles and dropped his dust mask. "I have an audience with the King at noon. It's noon." Zi tapped his watch.
The royal guard chuckled. "You are late, sir. For one so fast, you do not keep time well." The guard steps back, placing his hand upon the door to the court room. "Apologies for speaking out of turn, m'lord." Formality, of course. The Smith-caste turned Noble proved to be a surprisingly easy man to talk to. Some were envious, and proved it with anger. Others were disgusted, which again invoked anger. And then others were relieved to deal with a noble that was not a complete ass.
Zi took the power in stride, usually, but today he felt he should be a bit... pompous. He stopped as he passed to adjust the man's mantle. "Instead of speaking, you should spend that effort on your wardrobe." And for flavor, he through in an exaggerated huff and tossed an imaginary scarf over his shoulders. "Now I must be off, his royalness loathes to wait." It earned a chuckle from both of the guards standing post.
Beyond the door, the courtroom was almost immaculate. A number of the Royal Cabal were present, slaving away to clean up the blood stains Redglaive had left from many, many unsavory deaths. Slaving away for these artificers meant overseeing several small homunculi each as they did the labor. The sight of the room made Ziyadah a bit uncomfortable. The throne that his Highness sat upon had held another king, not three days ago. One that died a horrid death, drinking from a chalice poisoned by Zi himself.
It was improper form, but Zi showed respect with only a light bow of his head. "You summoned?" So informal, any other person would have been scolded. The Cabal rolled their eyes almost in unison. The young man apparently still had not learned his place. Yet, who were they to scold him? The Cabal were all born of magic folk, and learned magic through years of study. This young man's magic was innate and more powerful even at his youth than a veteran Wizard at the peak of his craft. The last time one of the Cabal had pointed out Zi's aloof nature with the king, they had been scolded in return.
The King sat upon the throne of steel and dried blood, more to assert his authority than for comfort, considering his position. "You are late, Ziyadah."
"I was playing with the local children, sir, and teaching a few of the elderly how to interact with the Servant Droids. They are not used to such technology, your gifts may have been welcomed, but if no one knows how to make use of them..." Zi leads off, letting the King himself fill in the blanks.
"Paperweights," he surmised.
"Very costly and pretty, but yes, paper weights." The expression of King Meloth showed understanding with an undertone of annoyance. Meloth was a good king. Benevolent and kind and all about taking care of his people, Ziyadah would never look down upon this man. He personally has seen the worry and stress of his daily life, deliberating major changes in private court, and in public court doing the same with smaller, endless squabbles between every caste.
With a sigh, the noble nodded. "Try to be more punctual. I'm sure a boy of your skill could at least learn to use a watch." The King peered around the room. None but the Cabal and his royal guard were present, so he stood and stretched his sore back.
"We spoke only briefly of your success. The general trade of civil thank you and trivial words. I could tell you were upset about it. Was this your first time? Slaying a man, that is." Meloth looked upon the boy with understanding eyes. His hair was a graying brown, signalling his years of wisdom. He was not a violent man, preferring books over the sword at his hip. Even the blade, Zi knew, had an inscription upon it. A prayer, for those he is forced to cut down.
The young sorcerer nodded. "It was. I understand why it had to be as it was."
"Oh?" The one word response suggested the King actually wanted to hear Zi's response.
"Life here was horrible. I saw more death than I dare to recall while I was walking through town. Peasants starving because their King took everything they had each harvest, and gave nothing back." Ziyadah's stomach churned slightly at the grusome memory of the War-State. "We've been here three days. Your reputation proceeded you. The Golems you loosed in the town have already rebuilt three homes the King had burned to the ground, and we had to ration food not because of limited supply, but because children were eating till they were sick."
The King held a hand up. Ziyadah's explanation came to a halt immediately, as if he had offended the noble. "You care deeply for people. I've always known you cared for your family, or you would not have taken your Blood-Oath, but I suspect you care for all people. Even your mischief is harmless and does not burden people too greatly." The King cracked a smile. "Like when you decided it funny to switch the soaps for my royal mantle with something more fragrant."
"To be fair, my lord, you pulled off the lilac very well."
The eldest of the Cabal turned, scowling at the all-too-formal Ziyadah. "Watch your tone, peasant!"
At which point Zi smirks. "Sir."
"That is more like it." The elder said, but Meloth only chuckled.
Zi held up his hand. "No, no. You will address me as Sir. By Royal Decree, I am a Noble of Yorheim, and all controlled states. You will address me as Sir, Magesmith." The elder's eyes became wide as saucers. He did not know what to say to that. He knew every noble family, worked for them all in his time, but this new boy came from nowhere. This Magesmith was definitely in the envious category.
"Phillius," Meloth announced, "I've been informed that the commonfolk of this kingdom need assistance with golem-interactions. See to it." Zi could see the exact moment when the Magesmith's heart sank. "And while you preform the work of an intern, I beg you remember your place. After all, you did not save an entire kingdom single-handed."
The King's words were double edged. The cut into the old man, but they also unintentionally bit at Zi. Saved a kingdom? At what cost. He killed a man. Poisoned his wine and watched him suffocate as his throat closed up. The sensation of feeling so angry and yet triumphant as the War-King Redglaive lay dying at his feet. The sorcerer made himself sick. Meloth noticed the youth's mocha skin pale around the face.
"Be at ease, boy. You did your duty to the Kingdom, and because of you, Yorheim's prosperity now falls on a land that knew only torment. You are the Hero of the Red Kingdom, and you have my word I will make sure your name is remembered in the best light." Meloth waved a hand in the air dismissively. "But I digress. I ask that you stand tall for a little longer, as I have important matters to discuss with you. And fret not, it does not involve violence." That actually came as a great relief.
"The Red Kingdom is without a ruling body. I've decided that Faylinn will rule here. I cannot distract myself from my duties to Yorheim without abandoning my people, and my son... well, I have only a few years left in me. With Redglaive dead, an early passing of the crown might add years to my life yet." Ziyadah nodded. It was common knowledge among the nobles that the king King was suffering under the great stress.
"It will be a shame to see you retire, Sir." He meant that. Meloth was a wonderous king. He had heard tales that Meloth spent a week out of the year during Harvest out abroad, aiding in the plucking of pumpkins. His son Bailoth was... not so eager to leave the court room. Not that Bailoth was a poor Prince, he was just as kind, but he was book savvy. He knew the laws of the land and preferred to delegate instead of act. It was Bailoth's idea to construct the Servant Droids and let them loose in the cities and bestow the farms that supplied the Kingdom with food.
Meloth was the type to get his hand dirty. Bailoth was lazy but smart, preferring to find the easiest way to get things done over the traditional way. The big issue was that Bailoth was awkward socially, and reserved. In court Meloth would seek a few laughs, Bailoth was quick and efficient. He would make a great king, no doubt, just... different.
As if sensing the inner turmoil his words had stirred, Meloth waved his hand once again. "Focus, my boy..." Zi snapped back into it. The idle thought on Bailoth as King drifted from his mind, for the moment. "As I was saying, Faylinn is to be Queen. I was hoping to ask if you would prefer to stay in the Red Kingdom. Permanently, that is."
His lips twitched. "So long as Faylinn follows the promises you have made to me upon my Blood-Oath, I will serve as her magical gopher as I have you."
The king chuckled. The young man was amusing. While most were fearful of the King, despite his reputation, Zi was confident and quippy. He had not enjoyed such a conversation since before he took the throne. "As amusing as the idea of a rodent in a wizarding hat is... the role I have for you is a bit more important."
"Oh? Am I to join her Cabal? Dropouts can't join--"
The King raised a hand gain to stop Zi's confused assumption. "No. I gave Faylinn one stipulation to becoming Queen. She had to pick a trustworthy man who would strengthen the kingdom in some way... and be wed before taking the throne." Color once again bled from Zi's face. She didn't! "She chose you."
Zi lifted his goggles and dropped his dust mask. "I have an audience with the King at noon. It's noon." Zi tapped his watch.
The royal guard chuckled. "You are late, sir. For one so fast, you do not keep time well." The guard steps back, placing his hand upon the door to the court room. "Apologies for speaking out of turn, m'lord." Formality, of course. The Smith-caste turned Noble proved to be a surprisingly easy man to talk to. Some were envious, and proved it with anger. Others were disgusted, which again invoked anger. And then others were relieved to deal with a noble that was not a complete ass.
Zi took the power in stride, usually, but today he felt he should be a bit... pompous. He stopped as he passed to adjust the man's mantle. "Instead of speaking, you should spend that effort on your wardrobe." And for flavor, he through in an exaggerated huff and tossed an imaginary scarf over his shoulders. "Now I must be off, his royalness loathes to wait." It earned a chuckle from both of the guards standing post.
Beyond the door, the courtroom was almost immaculate. A number of the Royal Cabal were present, slaving away to clean up the blood stains Redglaive had left from many, many unsavory deaths. Slaving away for these artificers meant overseeing several small homunculi each as they did the labor. The sight of the room made Ziyadah a bit uncomfortable. The throne that his Highness sat upon had held another king, not three days ago. One that died a horrid death, drinking from a chalice poisoned by Zi himself.
It was improper form, but Zi showed respect with only a light bow of his head. "You summoned?" So informal, any other person would have been scolded. The Cabal rolled their eyes almost in unison. The young man apparently still had not learned his place. Yet, who were they to scold him? The Cabal were all born of magic folk, and learned magic through years of study. This young man's magic was innate and more powerful even at his youth than a veteran Wizard at the peak of his craft. The last time one of the Cabal had pointed out Zi's aloof nature with the king, they had been scolded in return.
The King sat upon the throne of steel and dried blood, more to assert his authority than for comfort, considering his position. "You are late, Ziyadah."
"I was playing with the local children, sir, and teaching a few of the elderly how to interact with the Servant Droids. They are not used to such technology, your gifts may have been welcomed, but if no one knows how to make use of them..." Zi leads off, letting the King himself fill in the blanks.
"Paperweights," he surmised.
"Very costly and pretty, but yes, paper weights." The expression of King Meloth showed understanding with an undertone of annoyance. Meloth was a good king. Benevolent and kind and all about taking care of his people, Ziyadah would never look down upon this man. He personally has seen the worry and stress of his daily life, deliberating major changes in private court, and in public court doing the same with smaller, endless squabbles between every caste.
With a sigh, the noble nodded. "Try to be more punctual. I'm sure a boy of your skill could at least learn to use a watch." The King peered around the room. None but the Cabal and his royal guard were present, so he stood and stretched his sore back.
"We spoke only briefly of your success. The general trade of civil thank you and trivial words. I could tell you were upset about it. Was this your first time? Slaying a man, that is." Meloth looked upon the boy with understanding eyes. His hair was a graying brown, signalling his years of wisdom. He was not a violent man, preferring books over the sword at his hip. Even the blade, Zi knew, had an inscription upon it. A prayer, for those he is forced to cut down.
The young sorcerer nodded. "It was. I understand why it had to be as it was."
"Oh?" The one word response suggested the King actually wanted to hear Zi's response.
"Life here was horrible. I saw more death than I dare to recall while I was walking through town. Peasants starving because their King took everything they had each harvest, and gave nothing back." Ziyadah's stomach churned slightly at the grusome memory of the War-State. "We've been here three days. Your reputation proceeded you. The Golems you loosed in the town have already rebuilt three homes the King had burned to the ground, and we had to ration food not because of limited supply, but because children were eating till they were sick."
The King held a hand up. Ziyadah's explanation came to a halt immediately, as if he had offended the noble. "You care deeply for people. I've always known you cared for your family, or you would not have taken your Blood-Oath, but I suspect you care for all people. Even your mischief is harmless and does not burden people too greatly." The King cracked a smile. "Like when you decided it funny to switch the soaps for my royal mantle with something more fragrant."
"To be fair, my lord, you pulled off the lilac very well."
The eldest of the Cabal turned, scowling at the all-too-formal Ziyadah. "Watch your tone, peasant!"
At which point Zi smirks. "Sir."
"That is more like it." The elder said, but Meloth only chuckled.
Zi held up his hand. "No, no. You will address me as Sir. By Royal Decree, I am a Noble of Yorheim, and all controlled states. You will address me as Sir, Magesmith." The elder's eyes became wide as saucers. He did not know what to say to that. He knew every noble family, worked for them all in his time, but this new boy came from nowhere. This Magesmith was definitely in the envious category.
"Phillius," Meloth announced, "I've been informed that the commonfolk of this kingdom need assistance with golem-interactions. See to it." Zi could see the exact moment when the Magesmith's heart sank. "And while you preform the work of an intern, I beg you remember your place. After all, you did not save an entire kingdom single-handed."
The King's words were double edged. The cut into the old man, but they also unintentionally bit at Zi. Saved a kingdom? At what cost. He killed a man. Poisoned his wine and watched him suffocate as his throat closed up. The sensation of feeling so angry and yet triumphant as the War-King Redglaive lay dying at his feet. The sorcerer made himself sick. Meloth noticed the youth's mocha skin pale around the face.
"Be at ease, boy. You did your duty to the Kingdom, and because of you, Yorheim's prosperity now falls on a land that knew only torment. You are the Hero of the Red Kingdom, and you have my word I will make sure your name is remembered in the best light." Meloth waved a hand in the air dismissively. "But I digress. I ask that you stand tall for a little longer, as I have important matters to discuss with you. And fret not, it does not involve violence." That actually came as a great relief.
"The Red Kingdom is without a ruling body. I've decided that Faylinn will rule here. I cannot distract myself from my duties to Yorheim without abandoning my people, and my son... well, I have only a few years left in me. With Redglaive dead, an early passing of the crown might add years to my life yet." Ziyadah nodded. It was common knowledge among the nobles that the king King was suffering under the great stress.
"It will be a shame to see you retire, Sir." He meant that. Meloth was a wonderous king. He had heard tales that Meloth spent a week out of the year during Harvest out abroad, aiding in the plucking of pumpkins. His son Bailoth was... not so eager to leave the court room. Not that Bailoth was a poor Prince, he was just as kind, but he was book savvy. He knew the laws of the land and preferred to delegate instead of act. It was Bailoth's idea to construct the Servant Droids and let them loose in the cities and bestow the farms that supplied the Kingdom with food.
Meloth was the type to get his hand dirty. Bailoth was lazy but smart, preferring to find the easiest way to get things done over the traditional way. The big issue was that Bailoth was awkward socially, and reserved. In court Meloth would seek a few laughs, Bailoth was quick and efficient. He would make a great king, no doubt, just... different.
As if sensing the inner turmoil his words had stirred, Meloth waved his hand once again. "Focus, my boy..." Zi snapped back into it. The idle thought on Bailoth as King drifted from his mind, for the moment. "As I was saying, Faylinn is to be Queen. I was hoping to ask if you would prefer to stay in the Red Kingdom. Permanently, that is."
His lips twitched. "So long as Faylinn follows the promises you have made to me upon my Blood-Oath, I will serve as her magical gopher as I have you."
The king chuckled. The young man was amusing. While most were fearful of the King, despite his reputation, Zi was confident and quippy. He had not enjoyed such a conversation since before he took the throne. "As amusing as the idea of a rodent in a wizarding hat is... the role I have for you is a bit more important."
"Oh? Am I to join her Cabal? Dropouts can't join--"
The King raised a hand gain to stop Zi's confused assumption. "No. I gave Faylinn one stipulation to becoming Queen. She had to pick a trustworthy man who would strengthen the kingdom in some way... and be wed before taking the throne." Color once again bled from Zi's face. She didn't! "She chose you."