Chapter 55

"And in all our age, we are spectators imbibing stories of all things that dance about our life and surveillance and judgement. They may be deals made in the deep mines of darkness, promises made under the fair day's skies, tears cried in the most secret moments of despair, death massacring a Kingdom in the pangs of a Dragon Raid.

But in the end of breath, with hindsight, when we turn to consider the various stories we have amassed, how many are truly pure and untouched by treachery and schemes? And what is the answer to bewilderment if each of these incidents were connected through underlying chords of lies and deceit?"

~

Bureau of the Zephanian Arch-Eccleissor,

Auxiliary to the Imperial Castle,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Devland scurried into his Office with Caleb, his son, following close behind.

The chamber was cold and dark and the man was lost in a stampeding melee of thoughts.

There were several matters of official business that tried his mind, as various plagues that inflicted a land in chains of tribulation.

Although his first son's hesitation towards acquiring the polish and esteemed title of Arch-Eccleissor was trivial an issue, when accompanied with all the affairs of State that needed to be handled in short time, Devland was strained by his son's incompetence or lack of inspiration.

"You cannot expect to exercise such free will as you desire when you have been born with an inheritance most could not even dream of achieving", said the old man as he huffed.

Caleb stepped in his tread silently as though his wills were far from argument.

"You are aware that that was not my intention. It is your particular business I am uninterested in; I cannot cope, for I have no elite vision to foresee even the consequence of my actions, let alone dragon invasions", said he, quietly.

"It is not an innate talent, it is an art", said the Arch-Eccleissor. "An imitation of the ancestors' deeds; you are expected to continue in this tread assigned to your fate."

The elderly man huffed again and removed his large capes of fur. "Light the lanterns", he called.

The viridian haired lad lit the candle and stationed it upon a candelabrum.

He placed the documents, which he had carried for his father from the presentation before the Regent, down on the table where the candle was.

The flames from their single source of light was waltzing carelessly, being excessively prone to affliction by the chill of the chambers.

From the nervous sway thereof, Devland turned to find the doors of the Balcony slightly opened, wherefrom the cold winds of the wintry night began pervading into the hall, waging conquest over the warmth.

The man did not pay much mind to those, however, and proceeded in conversation.

"You will be invested with the Office of Arch-Eccleissor on the day of Coronation", said he to his son who seemed agitated. "Tonight, I will show you how we summon the Dragons."

Devland paused to gesture towards a large case by the vanity and said, "Open the trunk."

He watched as his son squatted down and clicked its latches out and removed the door of the large coffer.

Within, there was a large ivory in the shape of a horn measuring about a half and five treads in length. Caleb stared at it before withdrawing his gaze and turning to his father.

"Behold the Fang of Dragon Jezebel", said Devland. "It is the most salient inheritance of our tribe, our prestige and honour. The crest of the name 'Zephaniah' rests with this tusk."

"What role does this artefact play in summoning Dragons?", asked the lad.

At the tip of the mammoth canine, there was hole and the entire body of the talisman was hollow. Devland stepped near and took the horn in his hands.

"When you blow into this Fang, it rouses Dragons in Rengaulia and Wroshmania. In the period of about a week, they will make their way into the land and raid. It is most common for the Beast to alight at the Crown of St. Erdengaur."

The old man watched as his son stared curiously at the material.

"How does it provoke the dragons? Why do they make visit? What do they seek in our land? I thought they foraged to feed on humans and animal, but if they respond to the call of a fang, what is it that inspires them to come?", asked he.

Winds from the balcony's door invaded the chamber and snuffed the candle, leaving them with solely the moon's light.

"I was full of questions when I was a youth, but these shall be counted trivial when you begin your vocation as the Arch-Eccleissor of the Kingdom", the man began.

"When the outlaws are sentenced to punishment, they will be executed by various common means as we have witnessed the Noyade this eventide.

However, when a vigilante rises against the Government, he will be framed of other crimes for public knowledge, even though the people shall know wherefore he is arrested.

You will be required to call the Beasts by the Fang of Jezebel. In the period of ten days, the crusader's persecution shall be: being burnt in the Dragon's breath at St. Erdenguar."

"And then the beasts won't begin rampaging through the land because the Princess will have them quelled?", Caleb asked.

"Precisely", remarked Devland.

"That is quite cruel", said the young man, crossing arms against his chest, his face pensive.

"The pretext is 'survival instincts'; we live in the wild world where we protect our own", the elderly man chided.

"In all the years of vatic glory, our Zephanian ancestors did summon the beasts without the knowledge of the Imperial family, but counterfeited prophetic gift of clairvoyance whereby they stated that they could foresee dragons' arrival.

After I caused Sable to leave during my tenor, I have spared Mercedes, her daughter to tame the gigantic serpents and have ordained Jehoram to commence the era of Regency for he is of the Princess' family.

Now, he is aware that we do invite the salamanders and not predict, but he does not know how we do cause the Dragon calling."

"I see", said Caleb, eyes staring at the Horn.

"I am greatly thrust on all sides, for there is much preparation against the Crowning Ceremony", said Devland. "Naught of the rituals and arrangements have been commenced: both for your investiture and for the Princess' coronation."

"How so, that you have not? Was Mercedes' enthronement not expected for years?", asked the son.

"That is none of your present concerns", the Arch-Eccleissor rebuked.

He had much reason, but could disclose none to Caleb, for the boy had his independent set of morals that seemed to war with his own.

It was necessary to further withhold news of Mercedes' runaway from him, for he knew that the princess and his son were great friends.

"And what if I wish not to bear this crown of ancestry?", asked the man of viridian hair, which bore dark hues in the lack of light.

Devland strode across the office before settling into his seat. He placed elbows upon the table and leaned forward to continue conversation with his son.

The extinguished candle and various documents produced before the Regent from the Raid of Jaycob's premises were upon the table between the man and his son.

"I have fared much deals on the behalf of your succession; you cannot abscond from this path I have paved for you. It is imperative that you fulfil these duties. Otherwise, I would rather that Jaycob Oreius be my son than you", he spat his words.

"What does he have to do with the business of our family?" asked his son, unnerved by the spite, yet concerned for the lack of coherence in references.

The reigning Eccleissor began massaging his temples as he spoke:

"Inheritance of power from the bloodline. He is a Zephaniah. I found that he had escaped the death we had cornered his family into years ago.

But of course, that is none of your current concerns. I bid you this: I have reined the means of eliminating Jaycob's very breath and you needn't fret of his advent."

~