Tanwen

Evening was once again upon the lands of Jandariu, a brilliant purple sunset visible from the many arched windows lining the walls of Kimora’s chamber. The interior of the obsidian-colored room was just dark enough that parts of it lay concealed from view.

Kanie had awoken not long ago. He was pleased to find that his strength and clarity of mind had returned, even if his left leg remained disabled. Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out the golden love locket and opened it up.

“… Five hours, give-or-take, since I blacked out, huh…” he said to himself.

Outside of Entymair—Kimora’s castle—he could hear the sound of all varieties of beasts screeching and chattering. In the distance erupted a volcano—one of Impes Lux’s four sources of fire lifeforms. Streams of lava jet out from its top, spewing different kinds of creatures—ones with two legs, four, and others that flew. With a family as large as this, he wondered to himself how Kimora could have grown jaded to the point of despair.

Family—something he so passionately coveted in his previous life, yet was cruelly denied.

“Kanie?” called a voice from the other side of the chamber. It was Eric. How long ago he had risen, Kanie had no idea. He was lying face-up on the red couch, which now appeared darker in the rapidly-dwindling sunlight.

“Yeah, I’m awake, Eric. You feeling better now?”

“A lot better, yeah,” said Eric. He gripped his magic staff. Its jewel lit up, emitting a powerful burst of ethereal light. He moved the staff to and fro, as though it were a flashlight.

“Odd…” he said. “Mylo isn’t here anymore.”

Curious, Kanie followed his lead. He sat up and searched for his sword. Eventually, he spotted it, still sheathed and lying against the wall to his far left. Undoubtedly, he would have overlooked it if not for the bright teal glow coming from Eric’s staff.

“Come!” he said, extending his right arm. The sword responded to his command, sliding out of its sheath and gliding through the air. Its handle found its way neatly into the palm of his hand, at which time its long and elegant blade started to glow with a bright and misty blue.

He waved his sword around, using its light to get a better look at the inside of the chamber.

“Strange. There’s no sign of Oltrix, either,” he said, confused. “Kimora seemed keen on never leaving us alone in her castle, so why now?”

He yelped as he felt something bump against his right leg.

“… Mmph… Too bright… Someone, please… turn out the lights~…” said a voice.

Kanie’s heart sank upon learning he wasn’t alone in bed. He pointed his sword to his right in a panic, when suddenly, a hand reached out and grabbed his wrist.

“… K-Kimora!?”

Kimora yawned and looked up at the hero, magenta eyes glimmering like gemstones against the sword’s blue light.

“Kanie Misawa, what are you doing?”

“T-that’s what I was about to ask you!” he sputtered.

“This is my chamber—my very own bed,” she said, giggling. “It’s only natural that I’d be sleeping here.”

Kanie let out a forced chuckle. Guess the lady’s got a point, he thought. He relished the tender feeling of her long, elegant fingers wrapped firmly around his wrist—though he’d never dream of admitting such a thing aloud for her to hear. It would be too embarrassing. Even for him.

Clang, clang.

A loud knock sounded at the chamber doors, followed by a voice. It was the voice reminiscent of a young man’s—only it carried the unnerving calm of an ancient being. One surviving many lifetimes.

“… Your Majesty,” said the voice, rumbling. “Dinner is ready.”

Kanie got chills just hearing its deep, resonant tone. Who—or what—lies beyond those doors, he wondered. No sooner had the thought crossed his mind than Kimora perked up. He could feel her grip loosen around his wrist as she let go of him.

“Oh! Tanwen,” she said in high spirits. “Right on cue!”

The wooden doors creaked open with a groan, and in walked a large, imposing figure. A knight, and a towering one, at that. Donning a dark suit of ironclad armor, the knight’s face was concealed fully under a helmet with a sharp and brutal design. Kanie could see two flaming orange dots—presumably the knight’s eyes—blazing under the helmet’s eye-slits. He instinctively killed his sword’s lustrous glow, not wanting to draw attention to himself. Kimora, having picked up on his fear, reassured him.

“Oh, don’t be scared~” she said. “This one’s friendly—like, super friendly! I promise!”

… Um, that’s not the appearance of someone who’s friendly… Kanie thought. He was unconvinced, but went along to save face.

The knight, named Tanwen, started approaching, armored feet clacking against the chamber’s tiled floor, when suddenly—he stopped! Turning tail, he walked back out from whence he came. The doors closed with a deafening crash.

“H-hey, Tanwen~!” whined Kimora. “What gives~?”

A long silence pervaded before the knight spoke again from beyond the doors.

“My apologies, my queen,” he said, voice slightly muffled.

“… I did not mean to interrupt your… hour of intimacy. Please, do take your time.”

“I-intimacy!?” Kimora stammered. Her gaze alternated between the chamber doors and Kanie, the latter in bed next to her.

“… N-no! You’re getting the wrong idea here! This isn’t—”

Having lost her patience, she pouted for Tanwen to return. He did, at which time she proceeded to recount to him the circumstances that led to the heroes’ stay at Entymair.

“A thousand pardons for the misreading. I shall accept whatever punishment awaits.”

Kimora sighed, ensuring him that no such punishment would come. In truth, she saw little value in the concept of punishment, having learned something crucial in her many years as a dutiful queen—enacting it only ever filled her with regret. When last she had disciplined Tanwen, the knight wouldn’t stop crying for all of three days. Three. A warrior as powerful and dignified as him making sounds as pathetic as those—it was a sight she wished to permanently rid her mind of.

Opting to change the subject, she asked Tanwen what was being served that night, to which he responded that she need only wait and see for herself. Upon hearing this, she showed no sign of enthusiasm. After thousands of years, she was certain she’d seen—and eaten—just about every combination of food the world had to offer. What excited her most now about an evening banquet was the social aspect; with a full house, Entymair’s feast hall would always get rowdy—and fast.

“Will everyone be attending?” she asked.

The knight shook his head no. Disheartened, she groaned and buried her face in a pillow. An afternoon stolen away to a drab political meeting, and now this? Could things get any worse today?

Lighten up, she thought, reprimanding herself. Lighten up and think positive.

… The heroes! Yes, Impes Lux’s untimely guests—called Kanie Misawa and Erika Chandler—they would be attending tonight’s feast. Much as she didn’t trust the two, they represented something of a solace to her—the unknown. Novelty, she believed, was the one thing that made the curse of immortality worth its struggle. She would savor her moments with the heroes, and she’d do so to the very last drop.

Determination anew, Kimora roused herself. Her feet pattered lightly as she made her way down the small grey staircase underlying her bed. She slipped on her shoes—a unique pair of heels matching her ornate outerwear—before making her way over to Tanwen by the chamber doors.

Once there, she turned back toward Kanie and Eric, her figure partly concealed by the dark.

“Come,” she said invitingly. “Join us for dinner.”