Audience with the King

  “Hope does not kneel before crowns — it only answers the call of the heart.”

  Golden sunlight filtered through the stained glass of Harmonia’s royal palace, casting prismatic colors across the grand hall. Themis and his companions stood before the throne, their travel-worn cloaks and armor a stark contrast to the opulence around them. The soft chords of harpists echoed through the chamber, lending a sense of ceremony to the moment.

  At the center of the hall stood King Musica Arclight—a man of imposing stature, his silvered hair gleaming like moonlight, his eyes sharp as tempered steel. When he spoke, his voice was both warm and commanding, a harmony of nobility and compassion.

  Maestro Brauer Vornstahl stepped forward, bowing deeply before the throne.

  “Your Majesty, allow me to present the heroes who stood against the miasma’s corruption.”

  He gestured first to Themis.

  “From Crotchet—Themis Valeheart, the one spoken of in prophecy, who awakened the Tower of Wind’s long-lost power.”

  Next came the priestess.

  “Seraphina Caelira, bearer of the Arcanian of Wind, whose faith shielded Harmonia’s people.”

  He turned to the templar.

  “Lyria Caeliswyn, Templar of Grand Symphonia, who aided their escape from the Adagio Bastille.”

  Then, one by one, the rest of the Vanguard.

  “Tristan Ardyn Cero, strategist and brother to Grand Strategist Caldus Cero.

  Trish Glacenwell, healer of the renowned Glacenwell line of Alto.

  Trieni Faewind, archer and daughter of the hero who saved hundreds in the last war.

  And Liam Etneilav, martial artist and my own pupil.”

  A ripple of surprise moved through the court at that last name. Brauer’s lips curved faintly, pride flickering in his eyes.

  King Musica inclined his head.

  “I have heard everything,” he began, his gaze steady on Themis. “You awakened the Tower of Wind’s power and cleansed the miasma that plagued our lands. You saved Alto from darkness. You risked your lives not for glory, but for hope. For that, Harmonia owes you a debt it cannot fully repay.”

  The group bowed in unison. Even as they straightened, awe flickered in their eyes.

  Trieni leaned toward Trish, whispering, “I didn’t think royalty gave speeches like bards.”

  Trish managed a small smile. “I thought they’d be more… distant.”

  King Musica raised a hand, silencing the hall.

  “I offer you this: name your reward, and I shall grant it.”

  A hush fell. All eyes turned to Themis, who stepped forward, his voice steady but humble.

  “A few things, Your Majesty. Supplies for travel, new equipment for all of us if possible… and official recognition of our troop’s name.”

  A murmur rippled through the nobles.

  Tristan nearly choked. “That’s it?!”

  Liam blinked, incredulous. “You’re joking, right, captain?”

  Even Lyria, ever-composed, looked mildly stunned. “You… do know we just saved a capital?”

  The King’s lips curled in amusement.

  “Truly? Supplies and equipment? Not gold, land, or titles? And what is this troop name you wish to be recognized?”

  Themis shrugged, a faint smile on his lips.

  “We’re not here for rewards. We have more work ahead. The name is Luminous Vanguard. It’s the name we used when we first defended the Tower of Wind under your banner. Now, I want it to be known across Harmonia—so that, perhaps, word will reach my missing friend, Heathcliff Ashvane.”

  The King leaned forward, intrigued.

  “Your humility is rare, and your loyalty rarer still, young warrior. Very well—I shall honor your request… and perhaps go beyond it.”

  He gestured to his steward, who began writing a decree.

  “You shall receive Harmonia’s finest gear, supplies for your journey, and gold enough that you will not want for food or shelter. And each of you shall be granted a Dimebag—a dimensional storage device capable of holding far more than its size suggests.”

  Stolen novel; please report.

  Seraphina leaned toward Lyria, whispering, “A Dimebag?”

  “Dimensional storage,” she murmured back. “You can fit a wagon in one if you’re careful.”

  Her eyes widened. “Truly? Then I shall keep my library.”

  Trieni nudged Trish, grinning. “Next time, I’m answering first.”

  Laughter rippled softly through the group, breaking the tension of the hall. Even the King’s expression warmed, the faintest smile touching his lips as the decree was sealed with Harmonia’s crest.

  Then King Musica’s tone changed, softening like fading music.

  “And… if fate allows it, I would ask one more thing.”

  The harpists’ melody quieted to a hush. The King’s voice grew quieter, almost vulnerable.

  “My son—Prince Ryu Arclight—has been missing for seventeen years. He vanished during a celebration near Melodia, in the woods known as the Mellow Glade. He would be around your age now. He bears a birthmark shaped like a star on his right shoulder. Blue eyes, calm but full of light.”

  He glanced away, the weight of years pressing on his shoulders, then met Themis’s eyes again.

  “If by some miracle you find a clue to his fate, I ask only that you let me know. Nothing more.”

  Silence filled the hall. Even Tristan, usually quick with a quip, was still.

  Trieni stepped forward, her voice gentle. “We’ll keep our eyes open, Your Majesty.”

  “Thank you,” King Musica said, a faint, hopeful smile flickering across his face. “Even a small chance… gives me hope.”

  He straightened once more, regal composure returning.

  “Now, Luminous Vanguard—your mission awaits.”

  He turned to the assembled court, his voice ringing clear.

  “Let it be known throughout Harmonia and beyond: this company shall henceforth be recognized as Luminous Vanguard—not merely mercenaries, but a troop under royal command.

  Their mission: to journey forth, revive the power of each tower, cleanse the miasma, seek the remaining Sacred Stone shards, and find the chosen Arcanian.

  They will also travel to Melodia, to forge an alliance that may save our land.”

  He looked each of them in the eye, his tone both grave and inspiring.

  “Are you up to the task, brave warriors?”

  The group straightened, pride and determination shining in their faces.

  All replied in unison, “Yes, Your Majesty!”

  A ripple of approval swept through the hall. Themis felt the weight of the king’s trust settle on his shoulders—heavy, but not unwelcome. For the first time, their purpose was clear, their path set before them.

  As the royal decree was sealed, the harpists resumed their melody—soft, triumphant, echoing through the vaulted chamber. The nobles bowed their heads in respect as the Luminous Vanguard turned to depart.

  Tristan exhaled quietly. “So… no pressure, right?”

  Lyria gave him a sidelong glance. “You could try taking this seriously for once.”

  “I am,” he said, though his grin betrayed him. “Just trying to breathe under all this destiny.”

  Themis allowed himself a faint smile. The light from the stained glass fell across his armor, scattering into colors that danced like fragments of dawn. For the first time since Crotchet’s fall, he felt something stir within him—resolve, tempered by hope.

  Behind them, King Musica watched in silence, his hand resting on the armrest of his throne. The light caught the faint tremor in his fingers as he whispered to himself, unheard by the court,

  “Ryu… wherever you are, may their path lead to you.”

  After the Audience

  Once the formalities ended, Grand Strategist Caldus Cero led the group to a private chamber where a sprawling map covered a wide oak table.

  “To reach Melodia Castle,” he explained, tracing a path westward, “you’ll travel the Lions’ Highway. First stop is Chord Town—you might want to investigate the Tower of Moon there. From Chord, head south to Fort Oratorio, but beware—Rhapsodia controls it now.”

  Tristan scowled. “They’re spreading fast.”

  Caldus nodded grimly. “West of Fort Oratorio lies the Scalic Twin River. From there, head west to find the Tower of Fire, or south to reach Melodia Castle.”

  “And everything we’ll need?” Themis asked.

  “Will be ready by tomorrow,” Caldus confirmed. “Rest while you can. The journey ahead won’t be easy.”

  Themis turned to his companions. “We’ll meet at the plaza before sunset. There’s someone I want you all to meet.”

  Later, as sunlight bathed the marble corridors in gold, the group walked through the bustling streets of Alto Plaza, soaking in the brief peace.

  “Someone?” Seraphina asked, curiosity in her tone.

  He nodded. “You’ll see.”

  As they turned a corner, wind brushed across the plaza—gentle, like a whisper. In the distance, Isolde stood beneath a flower-laden archway, blue hair swaying in the breeze.

  The group exchanged curious glances, sensing that their journey was about to take another unexpected turn.

  And so, the path unfolded—toward Chord, the Tower of Moon,

  and deeper into the heart of the war to come.

  Role: The Mysterious Water Mage

  Affinity: Water

  Age: 22

  Birthday: February 17

  Weapon Specialty: Aquamarine Rod

  Description / Personality:

  Graceful and distant as the sea she commands, Isolde moves through the world like a whisper between waves. Her long, ocean-blue hair glimmers with an ethereal sheen under moonlight, and her calm gaze hides depths of sorrow and wisdom unspoken. Though quiet by nature, she bears a gentle strength—one forged by loss and solitude.

  I wanted to take a moment to thank you all for reading and supporting Arcana Wars: The Sacred Stone. Your comments and reactions truly keep me going. ??

  two chapters a day to one. I’ll still make sure each release is worth your time.