CHAPTER XX #8
Everyone stands from their seats when the royal family finally approaches the massive unlit fire. A deathly silence consumes the full of the crowd, all eyes trained and staring at Keane as he takes a step forward.
“Today we honor and celebrate the life of my father, King Zander Jeremiah Bardot. He was a man taken too soon from this Old World, though someone who embraced his time here with a genuine eagerness for everything around him…”
Keane’s voice is strong, but his eyes are searching through the crowd as he addresses the group.
“He met everything and everyone with a kindness that was routed deep in his soul. He was a man who loved his Kingdom and lived in that kindness, always wanting to learn and better the lives of those under his reign…”
“So today we come together not to dwell on my father’s death, but to celebrate his life lived, because it has indeed been a beautiful life.
My father lived with love for his family, for his Kingdom, and for all of the beings that reside within.
He was a man whose justice and patience rendered peace throughout his reign.
A man who loved to share that life through conversation, laughter, and perhaps a few too many glasses of whiskey. ”
The men in the crowd chuckle in agreement.
“My family and I thank every one of you for being here today, and for continuing to put up with our efforts to secure the castle as we navigate this trying time. Your own kindness and understanding does not go unnoticed…”
Keane accepts a large torch from a Discerni soldier and takes a step towards the bonfire, his gaze still searching.
“We ask that everyone begins and ends today’s event with love and celebration,” he grins to the crowd, “with emphasis on the celebration.”
The crowd grins with Prince and shares looks with their neighbors.
Keane’s eyes finally settle on our group, his piercing gaze finding mine from afar as he finishes with a yell, “to King Zander Bardot!”
“To King Zander Bardot!” the crowd roars as Keane drops the torch.
The bonfire erupts into heavy flames of red and orange.
The crowd claps and cheers as upbeat music starts to play over the slapping of wood on tables.
Empty mugs and hands are banging in loud unison, Zander’s name cheered throughout the field as everyone sends their love to the royal family in recognition to late King.
Keane holds my gaze throughout the commotion, though the gesture goes unseen as Stormfall spreads his wings across the Prince’s back.
The crowd starts to murmur in awe, watching the powerful beast as he pushes off of the Prince’s shoulder and hovers just over Keane’s head.
He caws above the flames and then soars across the field, his flight path leading him directly to me as I take a strong step forward.
Storm circles around our group’s table and above my head before descending to my outstretched hand, landing gracefully on my wrist.
I smile at the Bird of Ash and clutch him close to my chest, noticing that his yellow eyes are looking back at me passively.
“I’m so sorry, Storm,” I sigh, “I take my anger of the Ancient out on you far too much. You don’t deserve it…”
I stroke his proud chest and feel him purr at my words. “Forgive me. I will do better.”
Stormfall gives me a small caw and reaches his beak to my stroking finger, nipping down in affection. I sigh in relief and stroke his chest harder, then lift him up to my shoulder as I turn back to our group.
The Discerni seated at our table have all averted their gazes, every one of them hearing my apology in full to the Bird of Ash. I sigh and catch Cal’s gaze down the table and tilt my head to the grey canopy, needing a hefty drink to get this day started.
Cal’s smile is broad as he stands up with a nod.
“Should we pour for everyone?” I ask when we reach the barrels.
“Yes,” he nods, reaching for two whiskey glasses, “but lets you and I share a drink first, Alex.”
We both cheers to the King and down the whiskey straight.
“Alright, now we can bother with the rest of the group,” he laughs.
I place a hand on my friend’s shoulder and stop him from pouring, “Cal…”
Cal turns in my direction.
“Thank you for staying with me,” I tell him softly, “it meant more to me than you know.”
Cal frowns and drops the empty glasses in his hands, wrapping his arms around my waist. He pulls me into a big hug and replies steadily, “always, Alex. I am with you. We are with you. Now, and for whatever is to come.”
I let out a breath and nod into his chest. “We definitely have a road ahead of us.”
“We do,” Cal agrees, “but we are prepared and ready. As are you, I suspect.”
“I am,” I reply in strong resolute, pulling away from my big friend to look into his light brown eyes.
“Then we will do this, Alex,” he smiles, “we are all behind you.”
Cal and I turn to look back at our group in unison.
The majority of our friends are engaging in conversation, though Holis, Mana, Alanna and Lord Daniel are staring straight at us.
They’re looking at the two of us with an equal mix of hard looks and small smiles, all four nodding their heads in silent agreement that they are ready for whatever is to come.
The afternoon passes quickly with drinks, laughter and lunch. Our group stays together, a perfect mixture of Knowledge and Warrior and human and Discerni. We’re certainly one of the loudest tables in the crowd, no surprise there, and find the day passing easily in our comfortable company.
The royal family has been given their own large table, one that sits closest to the bonfire.
Many of today’s guests have been lining up to pay their respects and share stories of their time with King Zander, each of them smiling and laughing and reveling in the memories they have of him.
At one point during the late afternoon I spot Lord Alexander making his way to the table.
He gives the Queen a deep bow before turning his gaze to Keane and his brothers, leveling them with another respectful bow.
Keane and Desmond both stand simultaneously at his greeting, nodding at him with small smiles before Desmond tips his head for a side conversation.
Lord Alexander accepts, and I watch as the three men converse behind the royal table with Keane laughing at something the Lord says.
I smile at the sight and turn my gaze back to the head table, catching Troy’s cool blue eyes on me from afar. My body stiffens as he holds our gaze, and I can’t stop the vision of him kneeling down to my younger self from completely clouding my mind.
I sigh and look past him and his mother to Elena, not wanting to dwell on those memories today.
She sits quiet and proper and gives the patrons a small smile when they approach the table, but she never fully engages in conversation with them.
Her polite demeanor has me remembering Troy’s words about his sister before I left for Pyre, how he called Elena weird.
I think on that as I look at her, noting that she’s certainly a bit quirky and holds herself differently then everyone around her.
But just like in the past, I don’t get the impression that Elena’s weird. Light and airy and cold at times, but mostly just content in herself and her thoughts and needing nothing more.
“Lady Alexis,” a youthful voice pulls me away from my gaze. I turn in my seat to the young human boy, Jesse, with a smile.
“This is from Chef. The last of our meals before we set up for dinner and can join in the celebration.”
He sets a plate of meat on the table for Stormfall.
“Thank you, Jesse. You surely should not be working now.”
“I’ll be done soon, Lady,” he grins, turning his gaze to Stormfall sleeping on my shoulder, “does he sleep during the day?”
“He does,” I nod, “though I expect he’ll wake up at the start of sunset.”
“I should take this back, then,” the boy reaches for the plate with a frown.
“That’s okay,” I stop him with a grateful smile, “it will be a good treat for when he wakes.”
“Are you sure, Lady? I don’t mind.”
“I am.”
Jesse bows and reaches for some empty mugs on our table.
“How old are you Jesse?” I inquire.
The boy can’t be more than sixteen, though his features are extremely perceptive for his age.
“Fifteen, Lady.”
“And are your parents here today?” I ask, liking to meet them.
“No, Lady,” he states plainly, “I live at the expense of Chef and Castle Bardot,”
“At the expense of Chef?” I chuckle, “what a coincidence, as did I. Has he told you stories of my own time at his expense?”
The boy gives me a side grin, attempting to reply casually, “here and there, Lady.”
“Mhmm. And where did you come from before you found yourself under Chef’s wing?”
“Woodlands, Lady,” he replies without hesitation.
My heart stops in my chest as both Alanna and Lord Daniel silently turn their heads down the table.
“Fascinating,” I reply with open interest, “how was your time there?”
“I vaguely remember it, Lady,” Jesse shrugs.
“No?” I try to keep my question light, “no stories of growing up? I should like to visit Woodlands one day.”
“No,” he shrugs again, “but it’s no matter. Chef is the best. He treats me well and I enjoy my life here.”
I feign a smile, “Chef is the best. And don’t ever let him hear you say otherwise.”
Jesse laughs in his departure, making his way to the other tables. I turn to look at Alanna and notice a deep frown set across her face, her grey eyes also watching the boy as he moves between the patrons.
What is the chance that Jesse, apart from myself, is now the second person to be brought from Woodlands who doesn’t remember their past life?
Are there more like us spread across Disce?
And why is his easy contentment with his current situation in Chef’s kitchens nagging at me?
He didn’t dwell on his past at all, nor did he seem to care that he couldn’t remember…
The parallel is too uncanny to ignore.