Chapter 10: Capital Arrival
"Wakey, wakey," whispered Gray, his voice low near Eliard's ear.
Eliard's eyes shot open. Disoriented, he scanned his surroundings. They were on a wooden caravan, jostling slightly as it moved. A few armored guards sat around them, avoiding eye contact. He shifted and quickly realized he was bound by ropes at the wrist. Gray sat beside him, similarly tied, though he looked far too relaxed for someone under arrest.
"Where are we going?" Eliard asked.
Before Gray could speak, a third voice answered.
"To the Capital," said the man across from them. He wore armor pure white, unmarred by battle, and a full helm that covered his face completely. His posture was rigid, his presence imposing. This was the knight who had ended the horde.
"So you do speak," Gray said, turning toward the knight with a half-smile. "Mind telling me why making such a big deal of it all?"
"Impersonation of a royal official. Endangerment of civilians. You deceived the village during a critical defense."
Gray shrugged. "And yet, they're alive. You're welcome."
The knight said nothing more.
Their ride continued. Mountains rose in the distance, crowned with towering walls that stretched as far as the eye could see. Each layer of wall encircled portions of a sprawling city, stone, banners, towers, and bustling movement. The Capital of Calvari stood ahead, massive and alive, a testament to human power and history.
Eliard leaned to peer out the back. Behind them marched the Calvari army, rows upon rows of soldiers in uniform, dragging carts, leading horses, flying banners high. And among the cheers of civilians lining the roads as they entered, one name echoed from the crowd: "Avari! Avari!"
Eliard stiffened.
"Avari?" he whispered. "You're that Avari? The Heavenly Knight?"
Gray laughed. "What, only now figuring it out?"
He's one of the highest-ranked units in the game. Never pulled him, though. RNG hated me.
The caravan passed through cobbled roads, winding between lavish homes and merchant districts teeming with life. Flowers bloomed from hanging pots, music echoed from nearby plazas, and nobles in fine dress strolled by, pausing to bow at the passing army.
"So this is how it looks in person," Gray murmured. His gaze lingered on a fountain shaped like a dragon, spraying light blue water high into the air.
As they neared the towering castle, guards moved to take custody of the prisoners. One reached for Gray's rope-
"I'll take it from here," Avari said.
The guard immediately stepped back, nodding. "Of course, sir."
Gray's smirk returned. "Getting VIP treatment now?"
Avari walked them through the grand halls. Gold-etched windows bathed the corridor in warm light. The ceilings stretched high, adorned with painted murals of legendary battles and saints long dead.
Eliard grew increasingly nervous. "Why are we going to the royal palace? Shouldn't we be sent to the dungeon or something?"
"Silence," Avari said, voice sharp.
They reached a towering double door, etched with silver filigree and the symbol of Calvari: a phoenix rising from flame. Avari raised a hand, and the guards opened the doors with a resonating creak.
The throne room was vast, gleaming marble stretching beneath their feet. Sunlight poured from windows near the ceiling, casting colorful beams through stained glass. Red carpets led to a raised platform where a single ornate throne sat, carved from silverwood and inlaid with sapphires. Banners of the royal lineage hung on either side.
Avari stepped forward and knelt before the throne. Gray followed smoothly, dipping into a bow. Eliard hesitated, then copied the movement, clumsy and unsure.
From a side passage, footsteps echoed.
A girl emerged, no older than a teenager. She moved with practiced grace, though her robes were far too extravagant for her small frame. Layers of white and gold, embroidered with symbols of light and purity, trailed behind her.
Gray watched with interest. So that's her. Alicia Weisshart. The youngest queen in the game's lore. Didn't expect her to be this short in person.
Alicia sat on the throne, folding her hands in her lap. Her voice was soft, clearly trying to sound more commanding than it was.
"Who are these two standing before me?"
Avari stood. "They are prisoners from the village assaulted today. This one," he pointed to Gray,"claimed to be a royal strategist of Calvari."
The queen frowned. "Still, why are they here?"
Gray thought to himself, That's what I want to know too. I was preparing my prison escape plan, not expecting an audience with royalty.
Avari spoke again. "Because I believe this man is of significant interest. He confronted the chief of the invading horde personally."
Alicia's eyes widened. "The ogre... is he dead?"
"No, your Majesty. Still alive."
Alicia whispered something to herself, her expression unreadable.
"Bravery aside," she said, louder, "I see little value in allowing frauds to stand in these halls."
Avari hesitated. "There is one more thing. I believe Gray is a summoner."
Gasps erupted from nearby guards.
Alicia stood from her throne. "A summoner? That's a serious claim."
"I have sensed a bond between him and someone... not human. A persistent magical thread."
He stepped forward.
Gray flinched. Don't you dare.
Avari reached into Gray's inner coat pocket.
A high-pitched chime filled the air. Then,
Out flew a small glowing figure, her wings fluttering in agitation. Victoria.
"Ugh! Watch the hands, metallic freak."
The room froze.
"A fairy?" Alicia gasped.
Gray sighed. There go in flames my original plan.