Comes Around

My men and I walk down a long, ornate hallway, in a double-file line behind me, with Fredericus at my side. It arrives at a circular atrium, with the gentle hum of classical music echoing through the hall. As we step into this room, I peer ahead of me, flanked by wait staff and porters, busily rushing around.

My jaw (figuratively) drops to the floor. Leia is done up in the most incredible black dress with silver, finely woven accents and trimmings, with lace and adornments I’d never seen the likes of. Her bright, fiery orange hair contrasts beautifully, her blue eyes beaming radiantly towards me. Besides her is Beatrix, in a similarly beautiful white dress, ornately trimmed, with golden jewelry and her typical, mistrustful, business-like countenance. And again, well-endowed. Whew.

As I walk towards them, they both smile, and take me by the arms. Flanked on either side by these two bombshells, two waiters swing open the vast, tall chamber doors, and we’re met with a bustling party housed within a grand dance hall. Shaped like a shield, with a raised stage at the end, it’s packed with the finest members of royalty I’d ever laid eyes on. Princesses, gentlemen, nobles, lords, dukes, their servants, assistants, and countless wait staff are busily enjoying the party. As we stride in, my men neatly lined up behind me, many eyes turn to us. I glance upwards; there’s a balcony above us that stretches a quarter of the way into the hall.

I spot Princess Arianne and Prince Alexander excitedly gossiping ahead. I use this as an opportunity to break the ice and get my men situated. With some helpful guiding by Calyx and the Butler, they integrate into the hall and share drinks with other, lesser important partygoers. Leia and Beatrix don’t leave my side for even a moment. We make our way towards the front of the venue, near the stage.

The music stops. A noble walks onstage, wearing what appears to be a suit from the College of Magic.

“Ladies and gentlemen, esteemed members of the Ducal Houses, thank you for your patronage this evening. To begin our evening entertainment, the Royal College of Magic has put together a film showcasing the works of our most promising students. Please, enjoy yourselves, and thank you all for coming.”

A gentle round of applause follows him offstage. A giant, magical screen flashes into view over the stage, like a movie theatre. An old-timey announcer’s voice, a narrator, fills the hall.

“Earlier in the year, this outlying village nearly fell victim to the largest horde of Hill Giants in recorded history.” It shows a panning shot of a crude, agrarian farm village. Children are playing in the muddy streets, men and women both toiling in the summer heat with hand tools.

“Thanks to two prodigies in this year’s class, this village, and countless lives, were saved from these beastly menaces.”

The camera cuts to hundreds of man-shaped figures clumsily plodding along. The scale of them is enormous. They’re crudely dressed, their skin of various shades of green to blue, towering at least 50 feet in the air, carrying clubs and tree trunks.

The village comes into view. The camera cuts to the villagers running, panicked, mothers clutching their children, fathers fruitlessly picking up hoes, spears and swords in a desperate attempt to defend themselves.

“Witness the power of our best and brightest!”, the announcer beams.

The camera cuts back to these marauding giants. A bright light screams into the sky above them, capturing their feeble-minded attention. When they look up, a formation of densely packed rock forms around their feet, with a diagram showing it stretching hundreds of feet into the earth. Two mages stand between the village and this army of giants.

At once, they start beating their legs with their clubs, trying to break free. The second mage calls a circular ring spell above them, arcing and screaming through the air, until it hovers perfectly over the entire horde. Multiple rings descend downwards towards the ground, with faint beams of light targeting each giant directly in the forehead.

With a flash, blinding even the cameraman, each giant is neatly sliced apart all at once, like a ham, into many stacked horizontal cuts, collapsing in a pile of steam and dust onto the ground. The crowd within the banquet hall, perhaps the more libated ones, erupt in a cheer. The final shots show a grateful village cheering and hugging the mages, trying desperately to downplay their heroism. The dastardly Hill Giants were defeated.

The screen vanishes. Applause erupts in the hall. The representative marches back on stage, and personally recognizes the two mages, who are here with us. They take a bow onstage and accept flowers.

Around this time, approximately 500 soldiers from the Royal Army had convened outside the hall, in neat rows, with sheathed swords and pitch-black uniforms studded with medals. They were lined up in a ceremonial fashion, as not to draw suspicion.

I turn to peer behind me, at this mysterious balcony I’d walked under. Sitting in the center, in a grand, golden throne, is a frail old man with a crown, dressed in purple and white robes. He holds a sceptre with roiling green and blue magic spinning around it. He is flanked by two ghostly apparitions, floating in the air, holding spears, but not at all like the ones I saw guarding Uragas, that criminal Ice Slime Lord.

As I scan alongside them, I see four very intense looking mages. Three are elves, one is a human. I get a closer look at the taller, blonde one. It’s Kalth. He’s glaring directly at me. Whoops! Leia yanks my sleeve. My bad.

A rather jovial looking noble comes onstage. He thanks us all, once again, for coming and announces dinner is to be served. A veritable army of wait staff pours in, setting up tables and cutlery. The room reaches a dull roar of conversation. I gently feel my coat to check my firearm. Yup, still there.

We’re seated upon a grand banquet table, with Leia and Beatrix on either side of me, a long line of my men on one row, and various nobles seated across from us. Directly in front of me are Arianne and Alexander, who use this opportunity to gleefully brag about how great we are while we chow down on some incredible food. Steak, lamb, stews, seafood, bread, it’s all laid out in abundance here. I peer down the line to check on my men.

Munin, the dark elf, is politely dining with genteel manners, discussing his experiences with a couple of rather nerdy-looking young nobles. Maahnn has fixed himself a great, heaping plate of meat and potatoes, with multiple flasks of beer in front of him. Biru has been given a plate physically double the size of everyone else’s, as he towers above the rest of the guests, and it’s stacked high with roasted steaks and hams. He’s having the time of his life.

Patrick, Conan, his sidekick, and Fredericus were lined up to my left, after Leia. They had picked out the most normal foodstuffs of the bunch, although old Patrick seemed to revel in the delicacies onhand. Stuff that I would consider inedible, he was heaping on his plate and grinning about. Finally, Arianne and Alexander both turn to me, their particular royal gazes and intentions clearly shining through from across the banquet table.

“Well, John, are you prepared? How do you think it’ll go?”, Princess Arianne asks.

I shake my head. “No idea. I’ll do my best.”

Both of them smile. Suddenly, the room goes quiet. I snap my eyes over to the stage.

A group of knights has taken up position on the stage, with a mage behind each of them. That frail, crowned old man I saw up on the balcony has made his way down here to the stage. In total silence, he slowly shuffles his way to the podium. No one dares move a muscle, not even Biru.

He stands and peers out at us all, his golden crown gleaming in the light. His lips purse.

“Today… I have brought you all here for something… greater than a mere dinner.”

I spy some nobles glancing at eachother. Do they think he’s senile?

“We have… a guest you soon shall meet… who is a newcomer to our kingdom.”

Suddenly, eyes are upon me. Princess Arianne has a smug smile on her face.

“As your King, I have weathered countless struggles throughout my nearly 80 years of leadership…”

He trails off. Those nobles who were glancing around earlier are growing restless.

“But this fight is one I cannot stand alone. Tonight, you will experience the culmination of my greatest worries. A calamity is upon my kingdom. I have been forced to rely on others, due to my health.”

A few nobles murmur, barely audible, but enough to catch glares from the King’s supporters.

“Tonight, you will witness a great change. For those of you who wholeheartedly love and support our nation, be not afraid. Those of you who thought it wise to betray me for your own purposes… Well… You will find out very quickly.”

The tone in the hall changed instantly as soon as this frail monarch uttered these words. A cascade of anxiety fell over the nobles.

The king picked up a tremendous amount of energy for his final announcement.

“With that, I introduce to you our new Chief of Police for our nation’s capitol. John, please come onstage.”

A spotlight shines directly onto me, mid-bite into some pork. I’m forced to abandon my dinner and march up towards the stage, with a mixture of applause and silence, my heart racing.