A Lord's Invitation

“My lord! Mercy and justice was the way of your father, and his father before him! What justice would it bring should this young elf have her arm cut off?”

My words echoed, the marble bouncing the words back right into my ears.

“She came to Luxion with dreams and ambition,” I went on, gesturing to the girl beside me — hair like sunlight, emerald eyes fixed on the man above.

The lord sat in his high chair, yellow silk robes pooling around him, the lion-banner looming at his back. Red-robed advisors flanked him like vultures. Even though it had been the norm, my shabby and battered up suit and tie felt a little too informal and even chaotic in contrast.

“The last time someone lost a hand for theft was under your grandfather’s rule,” I said, stepping closer. “Do you know what that man stole?”

A flicker of hesitation. A slight shake of his head.

“A thousand gold coins,” I said. “And now, for a few stolen apples, you would mete out the same punishment and call it justice?”

An advisor from the right, his face masked by the hood he was wearing finally spoke up, his voice hoarse and raspy.

“But it is the law-”

“Then, my good sir, are you accusing the honourable Lord Norman of not upholding the law?” I snapped, before he had the chance to finish his sentence.

The advisor sank back in his seat, lowering his head. The lord before me curving his lips upwards ever-so-slightly.

“Lord Remus, you must understand that theft did not disappear during your father’s administration. It was that he too saw the cruelty in it, and even your grandfather who used it sparingly,”

Lord Remus closed his eyes as the murmurs of the advisors started to grow louder with the closing of my sentence, scratching the blonde stubble on his face before finally the voice of an old woman, clad in the same robes as the rest spoke out.

“It is true that your father, Lord Norman, never punished a thief with amputation, even if those were the King’s orders.”

Lord Remus finally opened his eyes again, eyeing me up and down, his sharp blue eyes sending a chill down my spine.

“You, I’ve heard about you.” he finally spoke. His words, sharp and loud enough to silence the chattering of the advisors around him. “You’re famous for arguing with nobles, aren’t you?”

“Like I said, my lord, I just wish to give those a voice that cannot adequately defend themselves,” I answered, lowering my head into a slight bow.

His lips curled into a sly smile as he got up from his seat.

“I’ll let go of the elf, but I have use from you,”

“I will be at your service in any way you desire, my lord,” I responded, my head still in the same low bow as before.

“You both are free to go, but I expect to be seeing you here again by the end of the week,” he said, turning his back to us.

I breathed a sigh of relief and looked over to my ‘client’ , her eyes meeting my own, swelled up with tears as she came running and wrapped her arms around me.

As the two of us were about to make our way towards the exit, Lord Remus’ voice stopped us in our tracks, causing the faintest twitch in my eyebrow.

‘Oh, God, what custom did I break this time,’ I thought to myself as I turned around as slowly as I possibly could.

“Your name, I never got it” Lord Remus said, looking at me from across the room, the same obnoxious smile adorning his face.

“Aizawa Itsuki”

The smile from his face dropped and turned to a frown, his eyebrows furrowed together as I dropped my head and lowered my gaze to the floor.

“That’s a strange name” were the words I slowly mouthed and matched the Lord’s response, getting a slight giggle from the girl beside me.

With that, the young girl, clad in shabby, torn-up robes held onto my hand firmly as she eyed the stone walls around her.

Eventually, we made it to the towering iron gates in front of us, outside was the face of a girl I had gotten used to these past 3 months; alongside her, a smaller elven-girl, eyes wide like sapphires.

The guards finally opened the gates, my young client running to the elven girl with my partner and hugging her firmly.

“Samira,” the little girl cried out loud as her sister hugged her even tighter.

“It’s okay,” she whispered as tears flooded her eyes again. “I’m okay, Laira.”

“So, I’m guessing you got her off,” my partner said, walking up to me with her arms tied behind her head.

Ambrose Ashvale, although she preferred going by Amber. She was the first person who I argued for ever since I landed in this hellhole. 21 years old, and a very awful mage - probably the shortest one I had encountered so far.

Her brown straight hair reached just below her earlobes that was covered mostly by a long pointed hat. She was often dressed in a long brown dress and a black cloak that had the insignia of a phoenix on the back .

“Yeah, I did,” .

“As expected,” she replied, giving me a pat on the back that caused me to stumble a few steps forward.

The two girls came up towards me, their eyes glimmering with a shine that I still wasn’t used to seeing even after three months of meeting various sorts of people and creatures.

“Thank you, Mr Aizawa,” said Samira, bowing deeply with her little sister cowering behind her.

“Don’t worry about it, just stay out of trouble next time,” I said, placing my hand on her head.

She stood up, placing a pendant in my arms, and closing it tightly.

“It isn’t much, but for all your troubles, I hope you can accept this small gift,”

Before I could object, she bowed and left me and Amber standing outside the towering gates that reflected the evening sun with her younger sister.

“I hope to see you soon!” were the last words she said to me before going out of sight.

I looked at the leather bound pendant in my palm, in its center was a metal casing with green stone that resembled an emerald but shined much brighter.

“Woah, an Elven Stone!” said Amber “It’s not worth much, but it’s still pretty rare,”

I shrugged and placed it inside my suit jacket not thinking much of it.

“So, the market?” she asked, her eyes almost pleading for me to go.

“You go on ahead, I’ll be at the Tavern, I’m tired,”

Amber groaned but didn’t push much. Truth is, I wasn’t tired, but I just needed a moment to think. The pendant inside my pocket weighed heavier than it should.