Dragon magus 2, p.16
Dragon Magus 2, page 16
“That’s amazing!” Eliza said. “I… Raphael?”
The room spun. Eliza’s face slid away from his vision. The archive’s ceiling replaced her.
Raphael felt something cold and hard on the back of his head. Gasping, he realized he was lying on the floor, having slid from his seat. His limbs were weak and numb. He tried in vain to move them, to blink, to turn his head.
He heard Eliza calling his name again and again, but when he tried to answer her, his tongue was a dead, heavy thing in his mouth. She bent over him. Her fingers were on his cheek and brow, cool and soft. Her lovely features became everything he could see.
“Stand back and give him some space, girl. I’ve got him,” the archivist’s voice rumbled from somewhere. Rough fingers clamped onto the top of Raphael’s skull, and somber chanting filled his ears. White light flared, momentarily blinding him with its radiance.
Warmth seeped into his limbs as his vision returned. Raphael took a deep breath.
“You somehow learned Highest Haste and cast it on yourself, didn’t you?” the archivist demanded, his round, portly features looming over his and edging out Eliza’s. “Silly boy. Haste is powered by your bodily reserves as much as it is fueled by Spell Dust. The most foolhardy armsmen don’t go beyond Intermediate Haste because even doing that is gambling with your life. The sensible ones stick with Lesser Haste instead. You’re lucky I was here to cast Invigorate on you, or you’d have died from exhaustion.”
“Didn’t you help him find the scrolls?” Eliza asked. “Why didn’t you warn him about Highest Haste?”
“Well, excuse me for not expecting him to learn and cast a spell of the Highest Order just like that.” The portly man huffed and strode back to his desk, tutting his disapproval with every step.
Invigorate, eh? That’s the second time that spell has saved my life already. Maybe that’s the spell I should actually learn, Raphael thought, seizing onto that notion if only to keep his thoughts from spinning in his head.
“Are you feeling better, Raphael?” Eliza asked anxiously.
He gave her a weak nod and crawled back up to his seat with her help. “Sorry I made you worry, Eliza. And you too, Rayne.”
The faerie dragon hopped onto his lap and nuzzled its cheek against his palm. “Be more cautious, Magus.”
“I will, little one.” Raphael groaned as he sat up straight. Every muscle in his body ached, as if he’d spent all day sparring against Sylvia. Healing Magic’s not going to do me any good here. Fatigue isn’t the same thing as injuries. I really need to learn Invigorate.
“Catch your breath. I’ll bring you some ginger tea from the kitchen,” Eliza said, getting to her feet.
“No, no. I’m interrupting your work. You carry on. I’ll go get the tea myself.” Raphael stood on wobbly legs. “Right after I learn Invigorate and cast it a few times on myself first.”
By the time they left the archive, Raphael had learned Haste, Fortify, and Invigorate, having cast the latter on himself thrice. Eliza’s notebook was also filled with potion recipes. Raphael wanted to take a quick look at the weapons and armor Cadogan Connell had delivered, so they began making their way towards Sylvia’s quarters.
“Oh, by the way, Raphael. Do you know what you’re going to wear to the King’s palace?” Eliza asked.
“What I’m going to wear?” Raphael shrugged and tapped the breastplate of his leather armor. “This, I guess.”
“Really? You’re going to be among dukes, counts, and other courtly personages!” Eliza protested. “You can’t show up like that.”
“I do have a few spare sets of clothing, but they’re the same as what I’m wearing now, so I don’t really have much of a choice in what to wear,” he pointed out.
“Can’t you borrow something from Fenix?” she asked.
“Anything that fits him well is going to be a bit too tight for me, I think.” Raphael shook his head. Though Fenix was nearly as tall as Raphael, he was much slighter in build. “What are you going to wear?”
“I have a dress,” Eliza said shyly. “My father bought it for me just before he died, so it needed some tailoring to fit me now. I sent it to a seamstress when we first received the invitation, and I picked it up last evening.”
“Well, I look forward to seeing you in it,” Raphael said. “I’m sure you’ll look gorgeous.”
Eliza’s cheeks colored. “Thanks, Raphael.”
They walked and warped the rest of the way in amicable silence. When they arrived at Sylvia’s quarters, the door was ajar. Eliza pushed it fully open. Sylvia folded up the letter she’d been reading and thrust it hastily behind her back.
“Ah, there you are, Eliza. And Raphael too. My two favorite people in the world!” she said. “Ready for some serious ballroom dancing and noble goosing?”
“What were you reading?” Raphael asked.
“Nothing.” Sylvia laughed awkwardly. “Some poetry. From my amorous admirers, of which there are many.”
Raphael and Eliza exchanged exasperated glances. It was clear that Eliza didn’t believe a single thing Sylvia said either.
“Do you really want to know?” Eliza asked him.
Raphael shook his head.
“Me neither.” Eliza walked over to a corner of Sylvia’s room where several knapsacks had been neatly piled, alongside the weapons and armor Raphael had ordered from Connell’s shop. “Everything’s ready, as you can see. We’ll have Sylvia pull all this into her pocket dimension, and then one of us will hold onto her Prism during our flight on Koshi’s back.”
“That’s great. Looks like we’re all ready to go, then.” Raphael nodded.
“Alright, now that you’ve checked on our gear, why don’t you let us ladies get ready for the ball? We’ll see you at the palace gates by dusk!” Sylvia said, placing her hands on Raphael’s back and ushering him out of her room.
The last thing he saw over her shoulder before she shut the door was the confused look on Eliza’s face.
With little else to do before it was time to head over to the palace, Raphael decided to return to his room instead. He might not have any clothes fit for royalty, but he could at least wash up and perhaps wipe down his armor.
Rayne poked its head out his pocket. “Are we going to eat, Magus?”
“It’s still a few hours before it’s time for dinner, Rayne, but I’ll pick up an apple for you on the way out,” Raphael said, drawing a contented purr from the faerie dragon.
A few minutes of walking later, Raphael found Koshi waiting by his door. He was clad in a dark robe of thick cotton, similar to the one the Guild Master always wore.
“Yun Shen gave me several of his robes,” Koshi explained, pinching his collar as Raphael approached. “This one’s a fine garment. Warm and sensible, with many more pockets than you’d expect.”
“That’s great, Koshi.” Raphael’s gaze fell on a small paper box beside his door. “What’s that?”
“It was here when I arrived.” Koshi nodded at it. “Your name’s on the lid, so I suppose someone sent you a package. Perhaps it’s more equipment from Connell?”
“Hmm. Everything I ordered from him has already been packed in Sylvia’s quarters.” Raphael picked up the box and pushed his door open, gesturing for Koshi to come in. “What could this be?”
“Only one way to find out.” Koshi smiled as Rayne flew to him and perched on his shoulder, nuzzling its cheek against his. “And hello to you too, little one.”
Raphael took the lid off the paper box and saw that there was a note attached to its underside. It was a small piece of paper that carried the scent of Cailee’s perfume. The elf’s name had been written across its surface.
Setting the lid aside, he pulled a bundle of dark fabric from the box and laid it out on his bed. It was an elegant silk shirt, paired with trousers of a similar cut and design. There was something else in the box. Raphael took it out and removed its paper wrapping, revealing a pair of fine leather boots with silver buckles.
“A thoughtful gift,” Koshi commented, taking a seat on the only chair in the room.
Raphael smiled and looked at Cailee’s name again. “It is. I’ll thank her when I see her again.”
Chapter 16
The sun was just setting by the time Raphael and Koshi arrived outside the palace. Its gates were twin portals of barred steel nearly six times taller than him and wide enough to drive three wagons through simultaneously. They were the only breach in pale stone walls of equal height, adorned at regular intervals by draped banners bearing the Lucario Royal Crest.
Behind the gates and outer walls lay the palace—a grand, sweeping structure of whitewashed stone framed by blue tiling. Raphael had caught several glimpses of the royal family’s home as he grew up, but he had never come so close to it. Lucario’s royal palace was a magnificent building, but he found it underwhelming in comparison to the Guild House. For him, the latter promised camaraderie, adventure, and purpose, all of which he found infinitely more valuable than any amount of luxury or wealth.
Sylvia, Eliza, and Fenix were already there, waiting for them.
“Hey, looking good, Raphael!” Sylvia whistled appreciatively as Raphael came closer.
Raphael chuckled and bowed to the elf, who was wearing a plain sleeveless green dress and a slender silver chain around her neck. She’d obviously brushed her dark hair but had chosen to leave it undone and undecorated, so that it bobbed energetically in time to the elf’s movements. Her delicate cheeks and full lips were unadorned by cosmetics. Sylvia’s understated clothing and presentation did not take away from her timeless beauty. Rather, they accentuated and drew attention to her exotic features and bearing.
“Thanks,” he said, opening his pocket for Rayne to fly out and perch on Koshi’s shoulder. “You look great too.”
“If you think flattery works on me, then you’re absolutely correct.” Sylvia draped her arm across Raphael’s shoulders. “Go on. Don’t stop. Keep the compliments coming, and who knows where you’ll end up tonight.”
Eliza sighed and rolled her eyes. “Looks like you managed to find some clothes after all, Raphael.”
“Cailee gave them to me,” he said, immediately regretting his words when eerily similar expressions of frost fell over both Eliza and Sylvia’s faces.
“Hmph,” the elf huffed. She uncoiled her body from Raphael’s and turned away.
Meanwhile, Eliza folded her arms and glared.
“Uh… you look gorgeous, Eliza,” Raphael said, scratching the back of his head.
It was true. Eliza was dazzling in an intricate blue dress adorned with lace and ruffles at her cuffs, collar, and hem. She wore gloves of a similar hue that reached above her elbows and a pair of simple but elegant gold earrings. Her hair had been brushed and bound into an elaborate braid that streamed from a blue bow ribbon on the top of her head. Her sapphire eyes shone, their hue accentuated by the masterfully applied rouge across her cheeks.
“Yes, I do,” Eliza agreed. She stalked over to Raphael and slipped her arm through his. “The guards have already opened the gates for us, so we should go in. We really shouldn’t be late for something like this.”
“No, we shouldn’t,” Fenix chimed in. The battlemage hadn’t changed his clothes at all. He was still wearing his leather suit, with all its complicated buckles and straps, and his broad-brimmed hat. He frowned at Raphael’s quizzical look. “What? A battlemage’s attire is fit for every occasion.”
“See?” Sylvia whispered loudly behind Fenix’s back. “Awkward and unlikable.”
“We know what you are, Sylvia, so stop telling us,” the battlemage replied.
“Ah, to be young again.” Koshi laughed and shook his head as Sylvia and Fenix started another of their pointless bickering bouts.
“Where are Cyrano and Ginerva?” Raphael asked.
“They didn’t want to come,” Eliza said. “Cyrano said that they didn’t go to the junkyard with us, so they don’t deserve any adulation from the King. Ginerva said that she’d rather get drunk at the Broken Jar instead.”
“Alright. We’ll see them tomorrow,” Raphael said, looking up at the palace gates as they creaked open. “Now let’s go talk to the King.”
* * *
Escorted by a contingent of guardsmen, the war party walked down a granite flagstone path and through a lush garden laden with lilies and orchids.
“I heard that those were the late queen’s favorite flowers,” Eliza said, a slight tremor in her voice.
“They’re well taken care of,” Koshi commented, sweeping his gaze around the garden with a critical eye. “The royal gardeners definitely know their craft.”
A fountain sat in the middle of the garden, its centerpiece a swirling tower of carved stone flowers topped with the marble bust of a woman.
In memory of Her Majesty Queen Azzura de Lucario, beloved wife and mother, the plaque beneath the bust read.
Raphael felt his eyes widening as he looked at the bust more closely. Its resemblance to Eliza was unmistakable. He turned to her, only to find that she’d unfastened something in her bow ribbon, turning it instead into a translucent veil that hung over her face.
“Wait a minute,” Fenix said, pointing to the bust and then to Eliza. “I thought your resemblance to the princess was just my imagination, but this… I’m not the only one seeing it, right? Eliza, what—”
“Don’t dawdle, you idiot.” Sylvia kicked the battlemage in the rump, making him yelp and stumble forward. The elf winked at Eliza as she walked past, seized Fenix by the scruff of the neck, and kept marching him forward.
Raphael opened his mouth to ask Eliza about the bust, but she slipped her arm away from his and followed Sylvia, not saying a word.
Koshi walked up behind him and clasped him on the shoulder.
“Some questions are better left unanswered, and some secrets are better left unshared, Raph,” he said. “Let it be for now.”
Raphael sighed and nodded.
The war party walked the rest of the way in silence. Servants clad in the royal colors of gold and blue replaced the guardsmen as Raphael entered the palace’s interior. He followed them down marble hallways adorned with trimmings of ivory and gold and overhung by priceless crystal chandeliers. Velvet drapes framed every gilded window.
As they walked through an ornate archway of carved stone flowers and into a massive chamber that could only be the palace’s ballroom, a servant standing by the entrance raised a small trumpet to his lips and played a brief fanfare.
“Dragon Knight Koshi, his son Dragon Knight Raphael, Lady Sylvia Shadowsoul, Master Fenix Hellstorm, and Miss Eliza Wildwynd,” the servant proclaimed in a booming voice that cut through the ambient chatter of several dozen carousing nobles and drew their undivided regard to the war party.
“Are we late?” Fenix gasped, his face turning pale. “Why are there so many guests here already? Have we given offense to the entire Lucarian court?”
“You aren’t. Guests of honor simply arrive later so that they may be presented to everyone,” Gabriella said, pushing her way past a cluster of noblewomen draped in heaps of lace and ruffles to stand before the war party.
“Hello, Gabby,” Raphael said, sticking his hand out.
“Good to see you, Raph!” The princess beamed as she clasped his hand, wrist-to-wrist, and drawing scandalized hisses and mutters from the onlookers. She stepped back and gestured down her body. “Do you like my dress? It’s the height of fashion now in the Chimeric Imperial Court.”
Gabriella wore a high-collared sleeveless dress of purple silk that hugged the contours of her body and ended at her ankles, with a slit in the fabric that ran all the way up to her right hip. Crimson embroidery adorned her collar and hem. Her golden hair had been gathered in an intricate bun on the top of her head and was held in place by a cluster of ivory pins.
“You look fantastic!” Raphael told her.
The princess giggled delightedly.
“You can’t talk to the crown princess in front of the nobility like that!” Fenix whispered fiercely into Raphael’s ear, only for Sylvia to elbow him aside and take Gabriella’s hands in her own.
“Thanks for having us!” the elf said. “It’s been too long since I’ve eaten at the royal tables!”
Gabriella giggled. “Lady Brightsoul told me that the last time you attended a royal banquet, you wrestled with the Mirak ambassador and threw him through a wall. Maybe that’s why you don’t receive too many invitations anymore.”
“That was fifteen years ago, and Johan was a good sport about it,” Sylvia said. “You were there too, in your wet nurse’s arms. I remember you laughing your little head off.”
“Let’s try not to assault any foreign diplomats today, shall we?” The princess grinned. “Though if you do, I want a front seat to the spectacle.”
“I’ll see what I can do,” Sylvia promised.
Gabriella turned to Eliza next. She raised an eyebrow at the sight of the veil, then shrugged and hugged Eliza warmly. “Great to see you, Eliza!”
Eliza returned the embrace, her smile visible through her veil. “Hello, Gabriella.”
When the princess turned to Fenix, he darted his eyes between her and the gathered nobles. Then he bowed, slammed his fist against his chest in what Raphael now recognized to be a formal battlemage salute, and stammered out an incoherent greeting that ended with him loudly proclaiming, “Glory to Lucario!”
“Uhm. Alright. Talk to you later, Fenix,” Gabriella said, blinking uneasily.
Gabriella walked over to Koshi and gave him a full and formal curtsy. “Hail, Dragon Knight Koshi. I, Gabriella de Lucario, extend the warmest welcome of our house to you this night and bid you take what comfort and delight we offer.”
“Hello, Your Highness,” he said, scratching under Rayne’s chin. “Thanks for hosting us.”
“The honor is ours, sir.” Gabriella gestured into the crowd. “Please, follow me.”
Just beyond the ballroom’s entrance was a section replete with large round tables, each one covered by a white tablecloth and set with gleaming silverware and velvet napkins.
