Volume 2 Chapter 14 Family Reunion

Chapter 14 Family Reunion

I

After dumping Nephthytia, the assassin and the four set up a camp. That assassin brought a simple camp along with him.

That assassin seemed shocked upon seeing the four. He looked at them with interests as if they had met them somewhere before.

Floria, Yanni and Stasha were observing that man too. It was strange that he seemed familiar, though he was wearing a mask and full-body robe. Clearly, they had met once.

Their memories started to blur and twist. When did they meet that man and where did they see him? They tried to dig deep inside their memories but failed to find any valid information. Seemingly they had met that man sometimes before, but they really couldn’t recall the details.

When their minds were in chaos, that man kept looking at them and mysteriously. His face was nearly fully veiled by his silver mask, so no one knew what his expression was. The four were staring at that man too, their faces brimming with confusion.

“You think that you have met me somewhere before, right?” asked that assassin in Normanish.

“Who are you actually?” questioned Yanni.

“If you want to know something about me, tell me something about yourselves first. Why are you four so powerful and why do you fight against Macchina Gloriosa?” queried the man.

“We’ve bathed in the Spring of Sylvana so that our physiologies have been enhanced, and we want to destroy the Mother Matrix so that we’re enemies of Macchina Gloriosa,” answered Stasha.

“The Spring of Sylvana ... That’s interesting. Anyhow, destroying the Mother Matrix a brave act. You’re a bard, girl, right? You’re going to destroy the Mother Matrix because it is producing mechanical music. You can’t stand that they’re treating music as something mechanical and making consummate music at the same time …” speculated that man.

“Yes, I am, how did you know all of that?” asked Stasha.

The assassin began to tell a story:

Year 3018, the prince of Lower Desertia was born.

Year 3020, Lower Desertia was destroyed by Upper Desertia Kingdom with the help of an organization called Macchina Gloriosa, and the entire royal family of Lower Desertia was murdered by the soldiers of Upper Desertia, except the prince who was taken away by Cheops, who managed to escape this disaster.

Year 3021, Lower Desertia and the Upper Desertia merged into one. This one true Desertian Kingdom which was in fact ruled by the royal family of Upper Desertia was born.

After that, the prince, or to be precise, the exiled king of Lower Desertia, learned the art of assassination from Cheops who bathed him in the Spring of Arcana when they were in exile.

However, the secret power of assassins was discovered by Macchina Gloriosa, and Achenosiris, the leader of Macchina Gloriosa, wanted to research the power of arcane magic.

Although assassins could not manipulate magical power, their blood contained the essence of Arcana, the creator of high elves, which would be a key to uncover the mystery of magic.

Therefore, he sent his loyal killer Nephthytia to hunt the assassins.

With her formidable power armour, Nephthytia was invincible. Many assassins in Desteria were murdered by Nephthytia, who collected the blood of the assassins as research samples to invent the artificial magic that could be dominated by Macchina Gloriosa.

To escape from Nephthytia, the exiled king ran to Normania where he met Cecile, the apprentice of the Ex-Farseer of Wildshadow Tribe at that time and they two fell in love with each other. Soon they had a baby and her name was Stasha.

He thought that he could live happily ever after, but fate was cruel. Nephthytia had come to Normania and she needed to kill more assassins and collect more blood as research samples. Unfortunately, the exiled king was one of her aims.

Sensing that Nephthytia was approaching, he decided to leave the tribe or Stasha and Cecile would be in danger since Nephthytia was bloodily ruthless. Killing people was like childish games for her. She could use his beloved wife and daughter to threaten him.

Leaving the tribe in a hurry in case Nephthytia discovered that he had started a family, he escaped to Desertia once again, where he found out that those assassins who had survived Nephthytia’ bloody slaughter had built a sanctuary to fight against her together. The leader of the sanctuary was Cheops, his master.

One day, he was sent by Cheops to find some foods with his friends because the foods in the sanctuary were going to run out. They encountered Nephthytia, who killed all his friends.

He found a forbidden village and hid inside it. However, he was still ambushed by Nephthytia there.

Luckily, when Nephthytia was about to kill him, four young people saved him. Coincidently, they were his daughter and three friends of hers.

…

After he finished speaking, the four started at them astonishedly. That assassin was smiling.

“You, you’re … You’re Ramesses, Stasha’s father” exclaimed Yanni. His eyes were widen in the shock.

“Yes, I am. I am also the King of Lower Desertia, a kingdom which had already been destroyed,” nodded Ramesses, the assassin.

Slowly, Ramesses took off his mask.

Stasha saw his father’s face …

“Dad …” she looked at her father, eyes to eyes.

“Stasha, long time no see …” greeted Ramesses, smiling embarrassedly.

Suddenly, Stasha stormed out of the camp without saying anything.

“What?” Ramesses didn’t know what was happening.

“She just can’t accept this. She needs sone time alone,” guessed Floria.

“That’s true … I … I …” stuttered Ramesses, Stasha’s father.

“Anyway, it’s dangerous outside. Nephthytia can be anywhere now. Yanni, you go to find Stasha with me; Aisling, you stay here with Ramesses … Stasha is a princess … It’s unimaginable,” commanded Floria.

II

Everything was happening so fast …

Stasha had reunited with her father, but she hadn’t figured out what she should do and what she should say.

She was walking soullessly through the dunes.

Soon Floria and Yanni found Stasha and the three looked at each other in embarrassing silence. Floria was the first to break the silence. She walked up to Stasha, sat beside her and held her arm tenderly.

“You look absent-minded, Stasha,” Floria smiled affectionately. Stasha was beautiful under the pure moonlight …

“Yes,” Stasha lowered her head.

“Don’t you want to say anything to your father?” queried Yanni.

“I just need to … I cannot forgive him because he has abandoned mom and me … But he really had a reason. He was just trying to protect us because that Nephthytia had been hunting him and other assassins … He didn’t want to get mom and me involved in those dangerous stuff …” stuttered Stasha quietly.

“So your father is an assassin … He is also a king, and you … You’re a princess. That’s cool,” summarized Floria.

“Yep. I am a princess. Like most girls, I dream of becoming a princess when I was young, but when it really comes true, things can be complicated … I have heard a lot of stories about Lower Desertian, like the invincible stellarite weapons which were their royal artifacts …” sighed Stasha.

“Anyhow, I think you shall talk to your father,” advised Floria, caressing Stasha’s arm.

“I know it, but it is too difficult. He is so foreign. He is my father but it’s just happening too abruptly, coming as a bit of a shock. I … I am a human and it will take my brain some time to figure out the current situation and ….” stammered Stasha.

“Easy, Stasha. We’re your friends and Uncle Ramesses looks like a nice man. You don’t need to feel stressful at all,” Floria reassured her.

“But what can I say to him? Shall I say something like ‘hi, dad, my name is Stasha and I am your daughter’? Everything is so embarrassing,” complaint Stasha.

III

Inside the camp, Ramesses and Aisling were sitting in silence. They were foreign to each other so that they didn’t talk much.

Sometimes they would observe and peer at each other secretly.

Aisling could sense that there was some kind of mystic power lurking inside the body of Ramesses just like the power of Yanni, Floria and Stasha.

Perhaps the Spring of Sylvana and the Spring of Arcana were substantially similar, since Sylvana was the creator of wood elves like Aisling, while Arcana was the creator of high elves, another subrace of elves.

Though She and Stasha had a good relationship, Stasha had never talked with her about her father … Therefore, she was a little curious what kind of person Ramesses was.

Ramesses was observing Aisling too. Since he started to learn the art of assassination, he had been reading books about elves and their magic. According to Libro di Arcana, the first assassin in this world was chosen by the high elves to bath in the Spring of Arcana and protect this world.

Now, Aisling was sitting by his side. He wanted to talk with her because the power of assassins was given by the elves to some extent.

“It’s my honour to meet you, Aisling. I have been studying about elves through my whole career as an assassin, and seeing you, an elf in the flesh, is an unbelievable experience!” exclaimed Ramesses.

“I am not that good,” whispered Aisling.

“You’re the last elf! Elves are real masters of magic! I’ve seen you manipulating the power of Life!” commented Ramesses.

“So are you kind of … My fan?” asked Aisling.

“For sure! Every assassins are your fan! You know, Our power is given by the Spring of Arcana which was created by the high elves and the first assassin was chosen by the high elves to bath in the spring …” narrated Ramesses.

“Yeah … So you’re … Stasha’s father … You’re an exiled king … And you’re also my fan, that’s fantastic …” murmured Aisling. She was not so interested in Ramesses’ story in fact.

“Yep. But seemingly Stasha don’t want to talk to me today. She must feel embarrassed because I’ve showed up too abruptly, and to be honest, it’s really a surprise to meet her here … By the way, what is the relationship between Yanni and my daughter now? They two seem intimate?” probed Ramesses.

“They’re intimate, are they?” Aisling flushed.

“Maybe I am too sensitive … I am an assassin. assassins are sensitive because we must be aware of the danger. Wait, you’re flushing … Wow, elves can flush! That’s marvellous!” blurted Ramesses.

“Enough! Shut up!” commanded Aisling.

“Sorry, Master Aisling. I don’t know your surname, so may I call you Master Aisling?” questioned Ramesses.

“You’re annoying, man …” complaint Aisling.

“I apologize. Sometimes I talk too much, especially when I am nervous. I am nervous right now. I’ve met my daughter but she doesn’t want to talk to me. What shall I do? You must have been living for hundreds of years, can you give me some suggestions? In my imagination, elves were old philosophers …” inquired Ramesses.

“I am only 18 years old now,” corrected Aisling.

“What? But you’re an elf. Elves can live for centuries …” stammered Ramesses.

“I am a baby elf,” explained Aisling.

“Sorry … Uh … I thought that you were as old as my grandma’s grandma … Well, I’ll shut up. I am bad at chatting. Sorry …” apologized Ramesses.

The instant his voice broke off, Stasha and the siblings came back to the camp.

Stasha was staring at her father.

Her father was staring at her too.

“Dad,” called Stasha tenderly.

“Stasha,” greeted Ramesses.

“Sorry that I haven’t talked to you since I met you today. It’s just … I am shocked … You know … I am shocked,” stuttered Stasha.

“I understand, Stasha,” whispered Ramesses soothingly.

“I want to say that … father …” stammered Stasha.

“Relax, Stasha,” Ramesses reassured her.

Stasha said nothing but walked up to her father and hugged him tenderly.

“It’s so good to see you, Stasha. I’ve been thinking about whether you will hate me or not. I left the tribe without explaining a single reason,” muttered Ramesses.

“I won’t hate you, dad,” Stasha smiled.

“Thanks, Stasha,” expressed Ramesses affectionately.

After talking with his daughter, Ramesses looked at the siblings.

“Wow, Yanni, you have really grown up. When you were a kid, you were much shorter and smaller in size than your elder sister and Stasha. You were following your sister all the time like a minion,” expressed Ramesses.

“That sounds cute,” giggled Stasha.

“You used to be cute, Yanni. Now you’ve become so tall, even taller than Floria and my daughter …” drawled Ramesses.

“So you have really been running from Nephthytia for all those years?” queried Floria.

“No, most of time I am living safely inside the Sanctuary of Assassins, but sometimes some of the assassins need to go out to find some foods and other supplies. Though I am a noble king, I still need to carry out the tasks assigned by Cheops, because my kingship means nothing since there’s no Lower Desertia now,” narrated Ramesses.

“Where is the Sanctuary of Assassins, dad?” asked Stasha.

“I’ll guide you four there. It is a beautiful sanctuary for us assassins. Those mechanists of Macchina Gloriosa are assholes, but we cannot defeat them. However, now we have you, Aisling. The magic of elves is said to be beyond the comprehension of us assassins. With your help, Aisling, we’re going to kick the asses of those damn mechanists!” proposed Ramesses.

“But I am a baby elf. I am not so powerful,” argued Aisling.

The phrase “baby elf” somehow hit the laughing bones of the siblings and Stasha. They burst into laughter and the nervousness of the upcoming fight with Nephthytia was alleviated a little.

After another hour of chatting, recalling and laughing, the five fell asleep gradually inside the warm tent set up by Ramesses.

IV

On the next morning, Ramesses and the four set out towards the sanctuary of assassins.

The morning sun was not so scorching so that the sand was comfortably warm.

Ramesses was holding a map and through the map, they knew that they had been walking in a wrong direction. However, their current position was still much closer to Santo Cielo than Le Meraviglie.

With the help of the map, they arrived at the Sanctuary of Assassins at noon.

The sanctuary was protected by a magical barrier set by Cheops with the Arcane Orb, an artifact constructed by high elves.

No one could cross the barrier, even Nephthytia.

The barrier looked like a transparent wall composed of materialized magical energy.

“Only we assassins can walk through the barrier, unless you are my guests,” said Ramesses.

“How to be your guest?” asked Aisling.

“That’s simple, touch my hand please,” Ramesses smiled.

The four put their hands on Ramesses’ and they felt a small surge of energy running into them from Ramesses’ hand.

“I have marked you as guests. Now you can go inside,” explained Ramesses.

“By the way, dad … Do stellarite weapons exist? In the legends, they were the gifts given by the high elves to us Lower Desertian royal family, right? Do you know anything about them?” questioned Stasha.

Stellarite weapons were legendary weapons in mythology. They were said to be invincible and stellarite was said to be the hardest metal in this world invented by the high elves. They were the royal artifacts of Lower Desertian royal family, which Stasha and Ramesses belonged to.

Stasha’s gut told her that stellarite might be the key to defeating Macchina Gloriosa.

“I have no idea. No one has seen them. I even think that the stellarite weapons were made up by people. They’re only legends, just like the Sanctum of Life,” Ramesses shrugged his shoulder.

Prudently, Ramesses and the four walked through the magical barrier, inside which stood the sanctuary of assassins.

The sanctuary was a temple-like building built of sandstones. Around the sanctuary was a vast patch of grassland. Flowers of all colours were glowing on the grassland. Although this place was built at the centre of the lifeless desert, the assassins had made it a heaven on earth.

Along with the fragrance of flowers and grass, bees and butterflies were flying carefreely over the grassland.

Aisling could sense that there was some mystic power lurking inside the sanctuary.

However, though the assassin were rather powerful, they were still not strong enough to fight back against Nephthytia, because that power armour was the most powerful thing Aisling had ever seen in this world, after all, all power armours of Macchina Gloriosa were designed with the Mother Matrix.

Respectfully, the four paced into the door of the sanctuary.