"Of course not, miss, you may be the most beautiful Zhyrel I've ever seen. I apologize for my zerath kezhan's loose tongue. Seriously, Venshind, you need to learn manners. And she understood us—"
interjects Arsheo while he throws Venshind aside and bows his head to Narci, his movements abrupt yet respectful.
Venshind, now behind his kezhan again, is not only showing an appalled expression but a guilty one as well.
He raises his hand as if to get Narci's attention from behind Arsheo.
"I sincerely apologize for the way that came out. That is entirely not what I—"
"Venshind, please take the center position and await the arrival of General Idkrix and Iusodox."
The king suddenly and swiftly silences the eager crowd with ease, his authority felt like a wave of pressure.
You guys met the armory attendant, General Idkrix, earlier as Venshind passed through the town.
The other guy is the Qitoran merchant, Iusodox, who the boys used to talk to in their time off of training.
He used to bring them all sorts of delicious snacks and artifacts from the other kingdoms that survived this long, his visits always carrying the warm scent of spices and old parchment.
"Yes, my king."
There are tons of kin from Salaciea who are here because of their powerful half-member, Venshind.
Most dialect will be spoken in Alnirian since they don't speak Azhuric, the only exception being the Qitoran Oath of Kinship.
It's a sort of oath that Qitorans take during Deiju that swears as Qitoran kin you would lay down your life for the citizens of Alniri.
It is an oath that chills the air with its weight, even unspoken.
"Hey, Narci,"
calmly whispers Arsheo while eyeing the king to avoid getting in trouble.
Narci turns around with an interested gleam in her wide emerald eyes.
"Yes, Lyran? Please be quick; I don't want to get in trouble."
Arsheo leans against a post and slyly faces the king while pulling Narci's attention toward him.
With no change in tone, as if he doesn't fear the king,
"We never got to finish our conversation about getting you acquainted in Qitor. I was serious about that; I want to help you adjust to the change of scenery."
Narci sighs back in frustration, her shoulders slumping slightly.
"Why do you want to help me out so much? If I'm not as useful as you think, you're going to just get rid of me, right? Save me the trouble now if so."
Dumbfounded but still remaining his usual composure, Arsheo bluntly responds,
"What sane person would do that? You can let me take care of everything as long as you're next to me."
Narci is noticeably shaken by his blunt words, a faint tremble in her expression betraying surprise.
Arsheo's composure breaks for just a second, and he starts to backtrack.
"I only mean—"
Arsheo is now cut off in the same way his kezhan was.
"Narci, please make your way to center position and select a weapon."
Narci walks away with haste, leaving Arsheo by himself near the participant area in the hall.
The ritual hall isn't exactly a hall; in fact, the Great Hall is really a small courtyard in a circular shape.
The middle is a giant open area outside that's covered by a massive stone shade.
That is the ritual hall, and it's completely full of seats and spectating areas.
Chatter hums like distant firelight across the gathered crowd.
Arsheo contemplates while leaning on a new stone pillar, now chewing on the strings from his robe, noticeably nervous.
"I can't be injured here, can I?"
"Will I become powerful?"
"How much longer? My stomach's eating itself."
"Is Dozha back yet?"
"Will he be proud of the results? I trained hard."
"Did I scare that girl by being too careless with my words?"
"Is she alright at least?"
The loud crowd noises cut through the numerous thoughts in his head.
"Who is this? We came here for Venshind and Arsheo! Anyone else is a dud as far as we are concerned!"
Arsheo hears this as he springs off of the pillar, fast enough to knock the spectators near the participants' area clean out of their seats, creating a boom from the power of his launch.
The stone beneath him cracks slightly from the force.
He makes his way down the stone path lined with runes in an instant, leaving the entire stadium stunned silent.
The young dragon lights up the area as he flies through the hall, terrifying all but the king with his power.
He remains floating, and, addressing the crowd, he says,
"Is this how you all act in the Great Hall of Alous, in Qitor? You treat fellow kin as Krith? I must be the outsider because this is not how my people act! I understand you are all hoping for strength in this time of crisis, but we are the generous people of Qitor; act like it! She could be the very strength you hope for!"
Silence follows as if to show regret for their actions and respect to their kin for honestly speaking.
The king's voice breaks the silence with a message.
"Narci has chosen a bow and arrow. Arsheo, it is now your turn."
Arsheo turns around to see his fellow participants who were waiting for the next step in the ritual.
He looks directly to Narci as if to see if she is okay after the previous events.
She looks unshaken completely, like she never heard a single word uttered.
Her posture is steady, her eyes forward.
Arsheo lands with crushing force and takes a look at his weaponry options.
He notices there isn't a single weapon from the armory missing, and they would have been placing the new one down still if one did get picked.
That must mean—
"My king, are there any special grade weapons here?"
He can feel it; there's something good in this hall.
An enchanted weapon maybe?
Maybe a mythic era sword from another kingdom?
What is it?
His dormant cores vibrate faintly, sensing power.
"There were a few, young one. It took Iusodox a very long time to acquire even one special grade weapon with the state of the world. There are now two special grade weapons of unknown origins."
"Well, let me see 'em,"
Arsheo eagerly chimes in.
The merchant unravels two swords with similar properties in size and shape.
Arsheo is visibly thinking hard on which one he should pick.
"They're both the same. What is the point in picking if it's the same sword anyway? The energy they emanate are like twins,"
the confused dragon says while looking back towards his king.
"Who said you have to choose between the two? It is as you said, they are twins. They are as the moon and sun, a contrasting pair."
Arsheo, excited by his king's statement, responds with another question,
"You mean I get to use both of these special grade swords?"
The king smiles as if he is equally as excited as the young dragon.
"There is a reason it hasn't been picked yet. The other two were told the same thing you're about to be. The swords take a tremendous amount of core energy to even use, so practicing with them is near impossible. Also, we don't know what they do since their origins are unknown."
Arsheo chuckles and takes up a valiant tone,
"You let something like this go because it could be stronger than you, Venshind? Just get stronger if that's the case!"