* II *

 

- The Price of Honor -

The word of God is all powerful...

...and it is bestowed upon your King

with all its wrath and fury...

*

 

It seemed like days had flown by since they had left earlier that morning, and everything seemed so different. Cecil began to see things upon this kingdom that he had not seen before, and it pulled some deep emotion out of the bottomless beyond within his mind. It felt like something was desperately trying to break out of his stomach, as though these feelings could not stand being closed in, as if claustrophobic. He couldn't even bring himself to walk through town, as he usually did after coming home from an important mission, for today it was simply too much to bear. He couldn't take the torture of the townspeople's judging eyes, for he knew they would see the blood running down his armor, in his eyes...in his heart. He had seen it in past weeks, as they talked in hushed whispers of the Dark Knight, Captain of the newly dubbed Pirates of Baron, once known as the Red Wings. He couldn't handle such a scene today, and he didn't even turn a glance towards the town as he steadily walked past, listening to the gentle knocking of his boots as they hit the wood of the draw bridge. Each step, each tap against the wood, was another knot tied in his nerves, and he nearly thought of stepping off the side. Baron towered tall in demanding expectation.

As Cecil approached the castle gates, the wretched feeling in his stomach began to tear at him worse still. He had yet to find a way to stand up to the King, and the ideas were not flowing as smoothly as he had hoped. It was but a jam of jumbled words and phrases crashing together in a pile up of incomprehensible patter. He knew that if he were speaking to anyone else it would never be this hard, but this was the King after all, His Majesty, and in a way the only father he ever knew. As an orphan, Cecil had been chosen by the King to be what he was today, a Dark Knight, through close observation of his regular training. His Majesty knew that Cecil would be a strong willed warrior, for he knew the boy certainly had the heart of one, and he could see in that boy's eyes that he would one day be a leader of men. Though Cecil couldn't remember being so close in his younger years, as soon as he could pick up the sword His Majesty had been there to see it. The King had actually been there, personally, to see through Cecil's training before he had even been considered to serve under the Order of the Dark Sword; something that had never happened before under the reign of this King. Cecil could still feel his warm presence watching closely during his melee with soldiers much older, if not much stronger, than he. He remembered overhearing him once...

What are your thoughts on Cecil, Your Majesty?

There are things I know, and there are things I do not. What Cecil wants in life I will never know, but I do know that he truly has the heart of a knight, and that hits harder than any sword can. That young man will be a great leader of this country some day.His Majesty had said after Cecil had defeated another high ranking officer in a match of sword-and-shield. Though they clearly were not meant for his ears to have, the words struck him like the hammer to the anvil, leaving such a strong impression. It was such a wonderful feeling to have someone be there for him during those times, as if he were a part of something special like a family.

That's why all of this was so hard for him, turning his mind into a lexical battlefield. Cecil could not falter under someone that had been the closest thing to a family he had ever had. It just didn't seem right. But then again, the things the King was doing didn't seem right either, and he couldn't possibly let it go by without heed. Cecil was caught in the middle of a mind struggle that didn't seem to give either way, and it wouldn't be long before the ties in-between snapped under the tension. Though all of this boiled beneath, he was quickly brought to his calm composure as the Captain of the Guards came forward from the now open gates to greet him.

"Ah, Cecil. Good to see you. You're rather early. I'm sure His Majesty will be pleased." Beigan talked like he ate off the King's plate; a slick nose that fit perfectly in the King's butt. He had the looks of a strong soldier, with his impressive build and strong-jawed, clean-shaven face, and not to mention he had the badges to prove it. But he never really had the attitude to be what he was, always so cocky, so smug, even though his position hardly ever warranted him an opportunity in a real battle. Supposedly he had been in the Royal Guard his entire life, and only during one war had he seen any action. He was good with a sword, Cecil could attest to that, but not that good. Not nearly good enough to serve as a knight of Baron, which is why he mostly worked at the King's side as his war council. He did have the mind for war, if not the arm for it. Cecil had never seen him as a close friend, and matter-of-factly had never really cared for him too much. But he dealt with him for the sake of His Majesty. The grin on Beigan's face immediately irritated Cecil, "You have the crystal, I presume."

If only you knew what I had to do to get it

"Of course. But the Mysidians..." Cecil was forced to avert his eyes from the Captain, not wanting his moral dilemma to be made known, especially not to him, "They were helpless. And we just took it as if it was never theirs to begin with..."

"What are you saying, boy?" Beigan pursued, cocking an eyebrow. Though Beigan was at least fifteen years his senior, Cecil didn't like being referred to as "boy", and it would've ticked him off had he not been so self-conscious of his last words. Cecil was a bit worried of what he had just said to the Captain, fearing he might have seen a bit of his seditious thoughts. The air was still and quiet for what seemed like forever until Beigan finally broke out into a wide, friendly smile, and patted Cecil on the shoulder, "Come on, His Majesty is waiting."

Does he know? Or is he just playing with me?

Cecil was a bit more wary as Beigan led him through the many gates of the castle that guarded the entrance, each tall door seemingly pushed open by the sheer power of their presence. It was a magnificent castle, built strong and steady with walls that none could climb and towers that reached to the very heavens. Guards posted at every gate would open the doors as the two Captains entered, a respectful salute following shortly after. They walked through the main hall, bright and full in its country's glory; flags of Baron dangling mighty from the high ceilings. Stone pillars graced the great hall, like vigilant guards watching every step, hearing every word spoken, feeling every emotion without expressing a single one. Cecil wondered if they could feel his emotions.

They couldn't possibly feel this, for they would never be able to stand. They would crumble.

Cecil continued on at Beigan's heel, mind stirring as they passed a stairwell leading below with a sign overhead reading: Mage Training Chambers. Cecil's thoughts cleared for a moment, and only one thing was picking his brain for that short time.

I hope she made it to her training session. I shouldn't have asked her to stay last night.

His mind was soon back on the world at hand, as Beigan seemed to up the pace, almost eager to get back to the King's side. Cecil was rather annoyed with him again, as he hurried to catch up. They passed the mess hall, where Cecil figured he would be joining his crew for a drink after speaking with His Majesty. They passed through strong double doors, the royal crest hanging gracefully at either side, entering the antechamber, a small hallway garnished by a ruby red carpet, laced in gold trimmings, which all led up to the gilded door of the throne room. Beigan turned before reaching the door and stopped Cecil so suddenly that he nearly tripped over himself.

"Sir Cecil, please wait here."

Beigan walked through the door and closed it behind him, leaving Cecil to wait patiently for the King to summon him. Beigan's grin soon turned wicked as he approached the throne, for he knew something that Cecil would kill to have kept quiet. He tossed around the idea of telling His Majesty, but he knew the King would want to hear the good news first.

"Your Majesty," Beigan began as he walked up and knelt before the King, a powerful figure dressed in flawless red robes also laced with gold. If he wasn't as strong as he was, the vestments would surely swallow him whole. His face was hard as stone, yet revealing of a surprising gentleness. The thick black beard governing most of his face seemed to contradict the little hair he had on his head, upon which rested his golden crown. He awaited the news, "Cecil has returned with the crystal."

"Good." the King's deep voice was fit for his character; a strong, iron-willed knight now sitting upon the throne of the kingdom he once fought for.

"I should have you know, Your Majesty, that Cecil seems to have developed a distrust of the throne," Beigan made sure to point out before Cecil was allowed in. An unusual look of query crossed the strong brow of His Majesty.

"Truly?" the King pondered for a quick moment before throwing it aside, "Thank you for informing me Beigan, but all that matters right now is the crystal. Bring him in."

"Yes, my liege," Beigan stood up before the King, grinning just as he was when he first walked in. He truly enjoyed knowing what he knew of Cecil, and he couldn't wait to see what would happen to him. He made his way to the door and opened it wide to let Cecil in, the Dark Knight still there, although his face not nearly as confident as expected. He actually looked rather pale, "Sir Cecil, His Majesty awaits. Please enter."

Cecil stepped through the throne room doors as he had done so many times before. Memories passed through his head every time he walked through those doors. Good memories of missions past, the day he was appointed commander of the Red Wings, the day he was knighted. So many good things started this way, but this day would not be as joyful as the others. He knew it would be hard to leave this room today without some repercussion. Cecil advanced to the short step before the throne and kneeled, awaiting his call.

"Well done, Cecil. So, where is the crystal?" the King eagerly asked.

"My lord, I have it." Cecil pulled the luminescent object from his satchel with closed eyes, lacking any desire to look at it again as he held it before the King. Beigan quickly walked up to Cecil and took it from his hands, giving Cecil the freedom of his sights back, which quickly fell upon His Majesty. Beigan gave Cecil a smirk as he snatched the soft glowing relic, a cocky little smile that would've given Cecil plenty of reason to knock his teeth in had he been paying any attention. But Cecil had his eyes on the King, never taking them off of him for fear of being perceived as weak, although a part of him was looking for something. He thought he could almost see a recognizable difference in the man, and it surprised him, for he could not savvy that which stung him as so odd.

"It appears to be genuine," Beigan said at the King's side once again, passing the crystal into his thirsty hands.

"It's beautiful. It is the crystal of water," the King stated, eyes alit in its resplendence, as he examined it from top to bottom and all the way around. He soon found approval in Cecil's work, giving the Dark Knight a warm smile, something Cecil found awkwardly strange, "You may leave, Cecil."

How can he be so happy? He doesn't know how tainted that thing is. Would he still smile if he knew what happened in Mysidia today?

Cecil stood up and began to walk out of the throne room, mostly out of instinct, although he knew he shouldn't leave. He knew he couldn't walk out that door without saying something, anything. There were matters here that needed to be resolved and running away wasn't going to resolve anything. He stopped just before the doors, gleaming peacefully against his darkness, and he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath.

Here goes

"Your Majesty..." Cecil broke into the King and Beigan's conversation over the crystal. They both turned, startled at the sound of Cecil's voice and even more so to see him standing before them, almost defiantly.

"Wh...What is it?!" they both said nearly in unison.

"Your Majesty," Cecil could feel his stomach doing flips as he began to unfold what he had been thinking about all day, "As the Captain of the Red Wings, I do not understand your motives. Why is it that you need these crystals?"

The King simply gave Cecil a blank stare, a brief silence pursuing the words that had so obviously broken any line of trust between them. Cecil feared he would be killed before ever getting to finish, and he had to lay his mind out now or else he would never see another chance. He immediately picked up where he had left off.

"Do you truly believe the Mysidians were becoming a threat to our kingdom? They are merely peasants with pitch forks and spell books. If they are such a threat then why did they fail to resist us?" Cecil didn't even give the King time to answer, but then Cecil wasn't sure if he even wanted to hear an answer at this point, "We do not understand why innocent people had to die by our hand today. Some have even wondered if your actions are..." He could feel the knot getting tighter in his stomach, "...altogether..." this was it, no turning back, ...honorable."

Cecil couldn't believe the words had actually left his mouth. He couldn't even imagine what the King was thinking and he wasn't really sure if he wanted to know. The look on his face gave the impression that he was about to unleash hell.

"So you distrust your own King, Cecil?!" The King's voice boomed with a fury Cecil hadn't heard in years.

"No I...I didn't mean that..." Cecil had trouble trying to explain, mostly because there really was no explanation for it. The King's eyes burned holes through Cecil's head and the thoughts poured out, showing themselves as if in plain view, "I simply fail to understand why."

"And does your crew share your feelings on this matter?!" the King's voice still shattered barriers in the Dark Knight, and he could feel himself slightly shaking in his armor.

"No, my liege. I speak on behalf of myself, and only myself. My crew shares no such concern," Cecil lied so surprisingly perfect, even with His Majesty's eyes tearing him to pieces.

"So it is true what I have heard then?" the King said disappointedly. Cecil's eyes twitched in wide white globes, the shock nearly striking him dead at that spot. Beigan's grin was so large, so overjoyed, that it nearly devoured his face.

"Your Majesty, I..." Cecil couldn't even finish through the constrictions of his throat, still astounded by the fact that the King had already heard such things. His Majesty glared with the force of an entire army, an army that was driving Cecil deeper into his bunker, leaving him trapped.

"Did you think that I knew nothing about your true feelings?!" The King roared. Cecil was caught, and he was only adding the fuel to the flames by speaking up. There was no way out of this. He wanted to pick up his heart, which had currently leapt out of his chest, and leave, but it would do no good now. The King was already upon him, "To think that I took you in and raised you as I would my own son, and trained you nonetheless!"

Cecil instantly felt sick, realizing he had just insulted the only man he could ever call a father. He thought he could feel tears trying to break loose, but he fought them with whatever strength he had left. The last thing the King would want is to have his highest knight weeping at his feet. His Majesty seemed to feel a bit of sadness himself, seeing now what had to be done with this.

"Now, not even you can trust me..." he spoke so melancholy, so genuinely sorrowed. Cecil had forgotten everything he had come here for, everything that had led him up to this point, and he was simply empty. The King's eyes fell harsh once more upon the Dark Knight, "I can no longer entrust you with the command of the Red Wings. As of now you are relieved of your post."

"Your Majesty...?!" The words had hit like iron swords through his chest, and Cecil's eyes went wide with disbelief. His title as Captain of the Red Wings, what he had worked so hard for, was no longer held to his command. Just like that...it was over. It all seemed incredibly too drastic and Cecil was so overcome with the nihilism of it all that he walked forward in denial as if to ask the King to make sure the words truly had not been spoken. He was immediately seized by the two royal guards at the King's side, quickly stepping forward to restrain Cecil from going any further. Cecil wanted to resist, but their strong hold of his arms, and his progressively weakening spirit held him back.

"Cecil, I'm going to give you one chance to prove your loyalty is still strong with our kingdom," the King announced, a slight hint of some hope in his voice that Cecil immediately latched onto. His ears begged to hear his request, Your charge is to eliminate the Phantom Beasts that haunt the upper valley and ensure the safety of the village of Mist. If you do so fulfill this mission, then I will reconsider your position as Captain of the Red Wings."

Cecil would've bowed with such immense pleasure upon hearing those words, but he was still held tight as the guards started leading him towards the door. Though that small hope was there, he still felt horribly defeated, as though what had happened here was unexpected. But he knew he should've expected something like this to happen, for no man goes up against the King and comes out on top. Cecil finally gave in and agreed to leave, the guards releasing him, allowing him to walk with the shame on his own as he watched the door, still beaming in apparent contentment, and he hated it. But before he was even close enough to open them, the golden doors swung open and a knight marched valiantly through them, a face more solid in integrity than the azure armor he wore. Cecil stared with blank disbelief as the man walked right past him, storming towards the King almost threateningly.

"Your Majesty," he tried with any and every effort to get the King's attention, "You must hear him out! Cecil would never--"

"Kain!" the King cut in forcefully, infuriated to no end, "If you're so worried about Cecil, then you shall go with him!"

"But Your Majesty!" Cecil tried once more to get the King to hear him out, as if Kain had given him a second wind. But it was too late. The King was already in no mood to hear anything else. He was furious. The guards were once again restraining the two men as His Majesty stood up from his throne and marched up to them, robes flying wildly in his wake. He had something in his hand that reflected a distracting glow, and Cecil began to worry that it would not be something nice for them to take home with them.

"I have nothing more to say to you. Here, take this ring with you to Mist as a token of peace," the King spoke with the glare of the devil. He handed the ring to Cecil, who held it tight, not wanting to ever lose it, for it would mean the end if he did. His Majesty's face was looking rather tired, but he still seemed to exude his anger, "I don't want to see the two of you again until you return!"

Cecil stared hopelessly at the King as he was forcefully removed from the throne room, his sights soon cut off as the doors broke his vision. The guards escorted Cecil and Kain out into the main hall, slamming the doors to the antechamber rather unceremoniously in their faces. They stood there for a moment, defiantly facing the door back into the throne room, only to realize how powerless they truly were...at least Cecil did.

"Sorry for getting you mixed up in all this, Kain." Cecil's face was grave and didn't bring any comfort to his friend staring back at him. Kain tried to lighten him up with a smile and a pat on the back, but Cecil didn't even feel it. He didn't feel anything anymore, except for the stark misery of all things lost.

"Don't worry, Cecil. As soon as we get back from Mist with a job well done, His Majesty will have no problem giving the Red Wings to your command again." Cecil didn't say a word, his face still locked in gloom. Kain was almost getting depressed just from looking at him. It pained him to see his friend this way, but he knew there was nothing he could really do to take it away. What he did know was what would most certainly help, "You've had a long day. Leave all the preparations to me, and go get some rest. You look like you could use it."

Kain thought he saw a slight smile break out underneath the depression that masked Cecil's face. He stuck his hand out warmly, and Cecil finally let a true smile find its way out. Cecil took the hand extended to him, and they each took their free arms around each others' neck in a brief show of their brotherhood. It was times like these that Cecil was happy to have a friend like Kain, and he let him go with a smile just so he would not have to worry anymore.

"You're probably right. I probably look like Hell's seventh circle right now," Cecil laughed a bit, thinking how disheveled he actually felt, and surely must look. Kain chuckled a bit himself, rather glad to see his friend with still a bit of spirit left.

"You want a drink before you go?" Kain offered, though the way Cecil was feeling he already knew the answer.

"No. Thanks though. You're right; all I really need is some sleep." Cecil kindly declined, though he wished he had the energy to sit down and have a drink with the rest of the guys. He was simply too drained.

"Then I'll see you bright and early in the morning."

Cecil nodded him off, and Kain made his way back into the mess hall to return to the guys he had been drinking with before he barged into the throne room. He trusted Kain to take care of everything for this mission, what Cecil hoped to be the redeeming factor in his career. Kain had always been there for him in the past, and he had no doubt in his mind that he would be there for him this time. His cerulean armor contrasted sharply with the others of bronze, some of which were his crew just coming in after cleaning up the airships. He wished he had the life in him to sit down and enjoy what little time he could with the Dragoon, for his time as a Dark Knight would rarely allow it. As children they were inseparable, both orphaned at early ages, although Kain's parents fell to much more dire circumstances. His mother died when he was born, never even having a chance to know who she was, and his father died when he was only five. Kain knew his father well, which made it so much worse for him to have to bear the news coming back to Baron of his father's death in the war. Though he was only five, he was deeply torn, and had it not been for Cecil filling that gap, he probably never would've made it. They both instantly became friends in the castle orphanage, and through their youth they aspired to become great and powerful knights under the King, using true swords at the tender ages of nine and ten, Kain being the senior. At first, their friendship seemed unbreakable, but that was soon tested as their paths took different turns. Cecil was chosen to become a Dark Knight, as His Majesty had always foreseen, while Kain desired to be what his father had been: a Knight of Dragons...a Dragoon. Cecil could still remember the day that it happened...

"You think you've got me don't you," Kain wheezed, his lungs aching through their melee, Cecil just as beat, "Well you're wrong!"

Kain lunged with a surprising quickness, taking his blunt tipped spear and driving it straight for Cecil's chest. Cecil was just as quick to knock it aside with his wooden sword, sending a foot out to sweep his friend's legs from under him. His fatigue was beginning to show as he was only successful in taking one foot, but it was enough to send Kain off balance. Cecil knew Kain was just as tired, and he took the opportunity to try and go for a fatal blow to the back, but Kain surprised him again as he jumped high with the strength of only one leg over the incoming blade. Kain landed rather gracefully behind his friend, but Cecil wasted no time watching the acrobatics, and was already meeting him there with his sword, giving Kain only enough time to hold his spear one-handed between him and the point of attack. The force of both of Cecil's arms powering his swing was more than enough to send the spear to the ground, Kain's hand stinging as he had tried hard to keep a strong grip on it.

Cecil's smile became obvious, even through the sweat pouring from his dull silver hair, down the rigorous terrain of his face. Kain was smiling just as well as the wooden blade poked his neck playfully a few times. Cecil continued to tease him with the wooden prod until Kain finally knocked the sword away from his neck in friendly annoyance.

"Okay, okay. You got me. Happy now?" Kain scoffed at Cecil, who was currently laughing like an idiot. Kain couldn't help but laugh as he watched his friend, so entertained by these things. It was a short lived moment of happiness as the sound of quiet applause was heard behind them. As they turned to see just who had been watching, their hearts quickly hopped up into their throats.

"Well done, Cecil, Kain." the King congratulated them with a serious tone of elation in his voice. Both of the youths swallowed their hearts and broke into a smile.

"Thank you, Your Majesty." both said in near unison, so nervous they couldn't bring themselves to laugh at their own stupor. The King noticed their apparent jitters, and chuckled a bit to himself.

"Relax you two. No need to be so tense." he tried to calm their over-excitement. Though they tried to act a little more composed, they knew they couldn't hold it forever, for they were both under review for positions as His Majesty's knights; Cecil as a Dark Knight, and Kain as a Dragoon. As noble as their efforts were, their hearts found themselves creeping back into their throats as the King continued, "You may or may not know why I'm here today, but..." that slow creep turned into a magnificent leap, air becoming of no concern as their throats closed off completely in anticipation, "You know, there are times in a boy's life when he must decide what he is to become as a man. There are so many things one must consider before..."

"If he doesn't get to the point, I'm gonna die." Kain whispered through exasperated lungs, still holding his breath, Cecil nodding in turn.

"I know." Cecil agreed, his face already looking even more flushed than it was before. Neither of them was truly paying attention to the King's words, but they did well to hide it, as they seemed calm and attentive. They didn't finally come back down to Earth until he actually called one of them by name.

"Cecil." the King demanded attention before continuing, "How old are you, son?"

"I'm sixteen, Your Majesty."

"Well then, I suppose you are old enough to begin your formal training," the King responded, a certain joy behind the mask of his deep commanding voice. Cecil's breath burst from his mouth in utter excitement, his eyes about ready to explode from their sockets. Kain was still turning different colors as he waited for His Majesty to finish, "I will send an officer to your quarters by tomorrow morning."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." Cecil barely spit out with a smile wider than his face. He watched with un-abounding happiness as the King just smiled back at him, and then turned to leave. Cecil's smile soon faded as he turned around to see Kain, his eyes nearly sagging off of his face, the look of utter misery upon him. The King had said not a word to the blonde-haired boy, and Cecil could see Kain s hopes of becoming a Dragoon fading much like his smile. Cecil knew that Kain was so much more deserving of a position in the kingdom than he, and he tried to comfort his friend in this depressing moment. But before he could even lay a warm hand on his shoulder or even say he was sorry, he was immediately surprised to see Kain's eyes perk up again. Cecil whirled around at the sound of elegant shoes tapping stone blocks, as His Majesty once again approached them.

"Oh, and Kain." the King said, no sign of any emotion in his voice. Kain only hoped he was hiding it.

"Yes, Your Majesty?"

"You've just turned seventeen, have you not?" the King asked, still not giving any hint to what he was going to say next. Kain couldn't bring thoughts and words together quick enough.

"Y-Yes, Your Majesty."

"Good. Captain Seiks has requested your presence in his quarters. You are to report to him immediately." the King ordered, now smiling with a most certain satisfaction, "I trust you know where to find the Dragoon barracks."

"Yes, Your Majesty" Kain bit back the urge to start blathering uncontrollably before the King, keeping a cool composure as any Dragoon should have.

"Congratulations to both of you. You have shown that you deserve to be a part of Baron's elite, and I trust you will not let me down during your trials."

"Thank you, Your Majesty." was all that Kain could possibly manage in his excitement.

"We will never let down the kingdom of Baron." Cecil assured their King, both youths smiling so wide inside, yet keeping it rather well settled on the outside.

"Take this time you have left to enjoy your youth," the King advised both of them, "For tomorrow will be the beginning of the rest of your lives as men."

And that was it. From the next morning on they only saw each other on rare occasions, most of their days spent in rigorous training sessions, and other things that neither of them were actually allowed to talk about. Their friendship was slowly coming apart at the joints, and clouds of secrecy washed over each of them. It wasn't until they had fully graduated from their training classes and taken their final oaths, falling into their respective knighthoods, that they could find time to see each other again. But that was nearly two years later, and things had changed drastically between them, both personalities driven in new directions. They had become true knights under the King, true men in the eyes of their peers, and most of all they were not kids anymore they had grown up.

 

A smile would've liked to have made itself known as these fond memories fell rapturously upon him, but in the undeniable light of what had just happened, he couldn't find it in him to let it out. Cecil just stood in the main hall for a moment as all the mental havoc sank in; giving in to the pressure it had been laying upon him. This pain was the only thing his dark helmet couldn't protect him from, although he wished it could. He heard the laughter of the men in the mess hall and he remembered how he used to be the same way after a victorious mission. But today was not a victory. Murder was not victory. Cecil was getting angry at himself, and he didn't want to think about it anymore. He was about ready to just crawl up to his room and stay there for a good while, maybe forever.

He soon felt a strange warmth in his hand, and it brought his attention to the ring that had been given to him by the King. Its heat had managed its way even through his armor, and it wasn't a normal kind of sensation he was feeling. It was strangely cold at the same time. He began to observe it, as if to discover some mystery of its origin, but he found nothing absolutely out of the ordinary. The ring was cast of solid gold, and resting peacefully atop its glimmering surface was a dark red jewel, swirling sanguine storm clouds flowing deep within. Upon a certain reflection caught by the light of a nearby torch, Cecil was able to recognize some sort of inscription emblazoned on the inside of the ring. He tried to decipher the foreign words, for they seemed vaguely familiar, but he found no translations in his knowledge of the few old languages he had learned in childhood classes. He swiftly decided he needed to brush up on those old studies, for they could've proven useful in a situation like this.

He realized he was standing there in the middle of the main hall, staring at a gold ring, making a spectacle of himself. Though only a few people had noticed, they didn't dare let him catch them watching from afar. Those in the mess hall were more concerned with their mugs running low than with Cecil's daydreaming. Cecil pushed such foolish worries away, trying to concentrate on what mattered most...getting some sleep.

Why should I care about this so much? Cecil questioned his wandering mind, slightly amused with the mocking tone he was taking with himself. If it's not the armor I wear, it's the jewelry I receive. I swear I'm becoming more of a woman about these things.

A humorous grin peeked out of the corners of his lips, laughing at the joke he had made of himself. He released a relaxing sigh, although as relaxing as it was, he still felt that pang of miserable pain run down his spine. Things were going to change, and he began to realize it a little more with each step he took as he walked away from the antechamber doors. He didn't want any of this happen, but it had happened nonetheless, and His Majesty would never be able to look him the same. Cecil didn't want to think anymore, nearly too exhausted to even do that. All he wanted was sleep, and sleep he would get...if he could make it to his room.

With my luck, everyone will want to ask me what happened, Cecil thought with a soft sigh. And I don't even know what to tell them.