DAWN OF THE ADVENTURES – DANCING IN THE BALL (PART I)

Lumere and Dale finally came to the scene behind the great shaft-shaped double door right from the inside of the manor. Each of the two stewards stood at each side of the door and gripped the handle for a grand entrance. One of them whistled at the other, signaling together to solemnly open the door with a certain variety of noises wafting around their ears.

Lumere welcomed Dale to be at his side as a fellow landsgant at the congratulatory ball despite his social ranks as both of their efforts and rewards were equitable to even be considered by his father. At least, in Lumere’s eyes, he would be wondering about his vader’s humble oddity towards a certain prote.

I have never seen Siri being so hesitant lately, Lumere thought while having his eyes flinch around. What was she really trying to hide from me?

“Door’s gonna open, brath,” Dale patted Lumere. “And thanks for inviting me as one of the top here.”

“Oh, worry not,” Lumere shook his head and fixed his suit. “You are definitely welcomed anyway.”

As the door lazily gaped and greeted them with crystal chandeliers sparkling into their dazzling eyes, a crowd of spruce artes and guests finally unveiled themselves with cups chinking from their respective forks and faces gleaming after them. Bards began strumming their lutes and harps to immerse the guests with wondrous joys and delicate palate. At the center of every guest’s seat in a circle, there were circle-edged tables draped in intricate crimson cloth. Rose vases on each table were placed atop the center of the table, just as the cherry on the top of the cake. Only bards had no table for now, but there were special tables near the side of the corner being reserved, making their expensively delicate food and decent amount of geld as their reward for ambient service.

“Holy wonders,” Dale moaned. “So this is what your feast looks like.”

Lumere ignored Dale’s surprised looks as he merely stepped forth on the stand located at the front of the ballroom, while Dale was ambling and gyrating his dazzling eyes until he could realize his awkward pose reminding him to follow according to Lumere’s rules of manners, abruptly rushing near him.

To which Dale made them laugh as it was quite a comedic entrance.

“Didn’t I tell you to not lose your sense of formality?” Lumere muttered.

“You should have told me about that specific thing, brath,” Dale replied.

Lumere sighed, “Just follow me, ja?.”

For a prote like him to act as an arte, Dale found himself difficult to achieve the mannerful flow although it was worth it to somehow brighten their mood up, and he then eyed Lumere approaching a gray-haired middle-aged man in fine suit grinning at him, as it was his vader named Lasser Treid.

Though, Lumere drew a slight grimace on his face, disguised as a smile.

“My defe son,” Lasser said. “How have you been? For how many years we haven’t seen each other, it seems you have finally grown up as a man.”

“Ja…,” Lumere nodded, then thought. And it seems you have quite changed for years after muder had died.

“And you definitely bring your prote friend to this grand ball of commemoration,” he said and bowed his welcome at Dale once their eyes were met. “Such a rare talent coming from the Prote Estate. I would like to see his further contributions once his duty has been called as one of the gards.”

How did he know that he’s a prote? Did Eld Siri stipulate my affairs to him?

“Anyway,” Lasser continued. “I would like to offer this glamorous ball as my sincere apology for the actions that I had worried you from afar before you have spent your entire years lingering in the academy.”

Lumere could not frankly say anything other than nodding his head at ease to hope that his vader had proven himself to be changed. Or perhaps, his vader was acting as if he still wanted to hide his inevitable attitude flowing throughout his veins. Nevertheless, he would rather put his act in a disingenuous face painted with a “buoyant” smile and “reverent” bob. Memories of being berated, worthless to his concern, treated more of a product of the House Treid, punched over his sorrow towards his beautiful dead wife, and labeled as the “extension of his power”—were still loitering over his mind, thereby his indelible hatred towards him.

“I am certain that this silver ring will put a smile on your face,” Lumere said. “And show how House Treid can continue the legacy to its supreme.”

By looking down at your misery, of course.

“Very well, my son,” Lasser smirked. “Acting upon your passion and transcending more than your predecessors will surely keep the legacy higher than our past blood. Worthy to be a successor, indeed.”

“I appreciate such complimentary words.”

“And send the same regards to your muder as well,” Lasser patted his shoulder. “I’m sure she has been so proud of you standing atop the stage of the theater.”

Huh? Never ever heard that from him for many years before, thought Lumere, then nodded. “Ja…”

“Come,” Lasser gestured. “We’re all thirsted for a feast right now. I’m sure your prote friend is excited to taste the same tongue as ours, so don’t let him hang around.”

“As long as you do not mean it literally,” Lumere mumbled.

Lumere watched the eyes of the guests dazzling with thrill and joy, including Siri who stood at the second from the front row alongside some other pale, narrow-eyed woman whose enchanting demeanor was… rather uniquely black.

Quite a bizarre beauty…

The steward then ambled towards him and handed him the silver cup and Dale the bronze cup awaiting for a draft.

That this draft would be one of his significant pieces of ceremony among those who were worthy to literally toast a cup of wine for his instrumental ranks and recognition upon his prayers being answered.

Once the silver cup was held into his hands, he raised it above his head and proved before the eyes of his sanguine and dubious ones that he was no longer behind who he was behind his prime. Then Dale and the rest acted as well accordingly.

At first, he wiped his sweat out of his brow and breathed out of his strain, for he was no longer the boy who had been cowering his pride in exchange of common welfare among the thoughts of the custom and fearing his demeanor injuring among the thoughts of his own across the harsh memories of his past.

“O grant myself my Almighty Gord,” Lumere called his prayer. “For the cup will be the glaive unto my time of Kalzona after this ring shall be at dawn of my duty.”

After Lumere had done his prayer, Dale slowly let his grip on the cup sink. Though, Lumere was eyeing him and his meandering eyes to await his voice being heard. Upon Dale’s realization, he outright returned his grip high.

“I…,” Dale stammered and cried. “... too, am!”

“At least, that is quite up to the mark,” Lumere mumbled and rolled his eyes.

Finally, both of them clanged their cups against each other and tossed their wine off with their greatest glee after their smiles. Seeing them to do so, the guests obeyed their joy and proceeded to feast with draft and babel.

Lumere laid the cup, once empty, onto the table in front of him. Dale, too, finished his first experience on drinking a wine exclusively for a class higher than his common blood. So humble for Lumere to give Dale a fine toast instead of a regular tavern cheer. Although Lumere was so proud of it, Dale bowed down and frowned a bit as if he was feeling something really strange to him.

“What’s wrong?” Lumere asked. “Is the wine not your taste?”

“No,” Dale raised his chin and shook. “This place is surely fancy to me…”

“Does it feel worthwhile to be here?”

Again, Dale bowed his head and forced his silent smile, probably waiting for Lumere to shrug his shoulders and turn back. Though, Lumere felt different for Dale to draw his timid face and bathe it with fraught sweat. It was never the one when he could brag about meeting some beautiful women. It was never the one when he learned some interesting rumors from the arte circles. It was never even the one when he granted himself some highest rating from his training performance.

Instead, it could be the one when he tried to immerse himself as spirited as the common townsfolk’s tavern around his hometown.

“Lumie,” some feminine voice called him.

Lumere turned his head behind and found a young chubby arte woman dressed in an enchanting gown.

“Oh…” Lumere tilted his head. “Who are you again?”

“Now you know why Lili has been enough over you,” she laughed. “You must have been so busy that you even forgot to send some birthday letters to your sweet swester.”

“Oh… Beki,” Lumere gaped his eyes and flinched. “How have you been?”

“Well, it’s been many years since we met each other at your granmuder’s house while my bruder had been assisting his frau, or rather your vervandt who nursed your granmuder.”

“How are they?”

“Unfortunately, she had already died from her age and laid her rest beneath the soil at the back of her house yard,” Beki bowed her head. “Meanwhile, your vervandt and my bruder had already retained the certificate of your granmuder’s property latched onto their hands.”

“Oh… I see.” Lumere nodded. “I may also have to pay her a visit.”

“Seems like your vervandt has been such a charitable frau.”

“Really? Never ever have I seen or talked with her before… even after the first time sending Liliea to my granmuder.”

“Glad I was even cured by boredom after meeting her,” Beki raised her chin and grinned. “Even again and again, I still enjoyed playing with her while my bruder had been so romantic and gentle with your vervandt.”

“I see. I shall pray for their good fortune then.”

Looking behind Lumere, Beki found Dale fidgeting his hands and scouring his eyes from side to side as if he was wondering how it was like being an arte.

“Lumie,” Beki asked. “How has your friend been?”

Lumere checked Dale and expected the same as Beki thought about his odd tense around the ball.

“He’s been so pitiful to act like one,” Beki continued. “Why don’t you give him a pat?”

I would have expected Dale to act quite like how Beki has said, Lumere thought. Though, I can quite definitely see the reason here.

With that, Lumere chose to do according to Beki’s suggestion, patting his shoulder.

“Dale, are you really feeling fine?” Lumere asked.

Once Dale’s eyes were in front of Lumere’s, Dale suddenly shrunk and pushed his chair a tad back.

“Hah!” Dale suddenly wheezed until his point of realization. “Oh, it’s still you, brath! Where have you been all the time?”

“Where? I have been here ever since, still not moving a single inch away from you.”

“I thought you had wandered off for a bit,” Dale said. “Or perhaps even doing the same thing as me, except you are just confident enough to withstand it.”

“What? You haven’t heard talk—”

“Oh, Lumie! Please to honor you with our utmost share of hearts!”

Then a group of women approached him, then stood beside Beki who unwittingly inserted herself within the center, curtsying towards him with highest respect as they were to be Liliea’s clique flirting with her bruder’s stunning demeanor.

“Umm…,” Lumere gulped and stuttered. “T-Thanks… It’s been a pleasure to hear that.”

Suddenly, they smiled and guffawed with their sassy voices babbling in front of him, acting like those hausbich around the streets as they were hunting for a charming man who would kill them with even a single wink and stare.

Great! These annoying bich are going to fantasize me like some main man from their romantic fairy tale…

Averting his eyes towards left, Siri abruptly came into his sight—outright smirking before him—and tucked her hand around his elbow, wrapping them up into a pair of golden roses.

“Greetings, my kind nyed,” Siri said, giving them a provocative attention. “I have come to announce to you that we have already arranged our marriage.”

H-Huh? Really? She must have been joking, right? Lumere thought, then stammered in shock. “W-what?! W-What i-in Gord's name are you talking about?”

“And it’ll be such a pleasure to hear your thoughts about it,” Siri continued. “May I see your eager eyes to witness your wishes soon to be in your hands?”

As Siri pushed his arm closer to her waist, the nyed in clique gaped their mouth and froze their nape into a standing stone of new gossip. Of all things he could not mind about, hearing Siri’s words of commitment—perhaps so—struck his mind and heart into the hottest incense that Siri could ever feel while stroking across his arms and eyeing his crimson face. Though, even if taking him a glance of her smirk granted him a tad of doubt, her elegant poise still convinced him more to wish for a dubious hope, even farther from the other face of the coin.

“Ever hope to ask for an invitation letter?” Siri asked. “Then let this chance be, and behold that this mann will kiss her beloved frau thirsting for love in a right time later.”

No… no…. This has to be a bloody dream, right? Lumere thought, then pushed his elbow away from her grip. “Perhaps I might need to lend Dale some ass—”

Though, Siri pulled him back more strongly than his push of will, forcing him to remain still and listen. So that if his presence would shine her radiant promises into a new shape of tale passing through ears to ears, it would be best for Siri to announce them by the “bottom of her heart” and give him empty echoes of zealotry on behalf of his own ears.

At least, this could have been what Lumere was thinking of.

“Are you actually certain abo—”

“Yes,” Siri promptly said. “I will definitely plan to wear my lovely matrimonial gown and court him as much as we please. If you have any idea about a certain seamstress that has the most decorous talent to suit us with need, then I’m dearly happy to know.”

Even without a pact from Lumere himself, Siri could not flinch and avert her eyes. She focused towards the clique who heard her words so sincere and assured that even their dafe hertling flushed his cheeks all the time almost until he could feel his blood surging through his veins, splintering out of his skin. Thanks to Siri’s unexpected confession, his hands began quivering and breaking sweat, unprepared to picture what and where he would stand way past this time.

And the only way to cure it was to check how Dale was up to.

But then, he was gone.

“Where could he be?” Lumere muttered.

“Say,” one of the cliques spoke, narrowing her eyes in sudden qualm. “You must have been one of the artehu—”

“We shall depart ourselves to another place for now,” Siri quickly curtsied and pulled Lumere according to her steps while gesturing her hand of farewell. “I have reserved a private table just for the two of us, and with that, we shall bid you a respectful farewell.”