A Guide to Kingdom Building ( Me Reincarnated 365 x) - Chapter 228

Vener, Year of Severus, 18, I.R., the 76th day of Spring, Ardantean Township, Nhils’ Il Bucay Outskirts

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The sun was more unforgiving in the land of the Ardants than that of the land she grew from. She took a deep breath and sipped from her gourd as their caravan marched towards the township of Nhils’ Il Bucay, or the city of the Burning Sun.

The township of Nhils’ was just across the Great Dune, just across the little land bridge connecting the West from the East which in Ardantean tongue they called the Dhihila, or the Reaching Tongue.

Everything in the Western continent was too strange for Orphella. Despite the names of their places where they either name over a body part or an obvious death trap, their culture was far different compared to the eastern nation. They were by far more welcoming to demi-humans than the Arterians could ever be.

Their society judges everyone through their merits, or as what they would call their usefulness to their lands. They weren’t particular of your race, as long as you can contribute something to the betterment of the land, you were more than welcome to stay.

To Orphella, the place was like a paradise for her and the other demi -humans. It could become their safe refuge if given the chance to leave the damned Principalia. If only she could…

But this wasn’t the time for that. She was there for something else. She was ordered to do something and she promised to deliver.

Orphella walked thoughtlessly following the line of people from the caravan she snuck into. The heat of the sun was numbing her senses even more, aside from the thick clothing she was given when she passed to the other side of the border. Elves do not sweat often, but it looked like this was an exception even for her. The heavy clothing, her heavy load and the damning heat of the sun was too much for her body to bear.

She took another sip of water from her gourd and realized she had more than a couple of sips left before she finally losses her reserve. She took a glimpse at the long line near the town’s gate and saw how far she was from it. She was afraid that she might collapse in the middle of the line and blow her cover. And that’s not good.

The sun was giving her a harder time than most of the people in the caravan. The line was advancing, she took a step forward and realized she was having double vision already. It wasn’t good.

“Gentle heal.” Papillon said.

Orphella felt reinvigorated once again. Her thirst was quenched, and her body felt light again.

“You shouldn’t have done that!” Orphella immediately scolded Papillon through her mind.

“And what? Let you collapse.” The weapon she carried on her back barked at her. “Not gonna happen, sister.”

“We might blow this cover if we’re not careful.” The mute answered back mentally.

“You’d still be caught either way,” Papillon sighed. “Rather do it this way, it’s a far better option.” She added.

Orphella bit her lip and no longer answered her weapon. Papillon on the other hand was not pleased with her actions and began to rant all over her mind. The poor elf tried her best to bear the ranting as the line slowly advanced towards the gate.

It took maybe an hour or two for her to finally reach the gate. Orphella sighed in relief as she finally reached the gate, however, her weapon was still blabbering about a lot of things.

“Shut it!” She warned Papillon. “They could detect any forms of magic. You’re endangering me!” She scolded her weapon once again.

“Endangering you?” Papillon scoffed. “Let me tell you, sister I am not—”

The line advanced and soon, she was already facing a guard. As soon as it happened, Papillon finally became quiet.

“Iq pleahug pepal. (Your papers please.)” The guard reached out his hand and asked her about her permit.

She silently took out the forged document given to her by another Principalian spy and gave it to the guard. The guard took her paper and read its contents. The guard looked at her, then looked at the paper a couple of times until he told her to wait as he called out for the leader of the guards.

After some incomprehensible discussion that they did in front of her, the leader of the guards took gestured for her to follow. She willfully obliged and hoped that her cover was not yet blown.

“Nahr iq Ardantii? (Do you speak Aradantii?)” The towering guard leader asked.

Orphella tried her best to calm herself down. She shook her head. The leader of the guard went back to the other guard, and they began to discuss about something once again. They took a glance at her once again before going back to their conversation. It took them a few moments before the leader of the guard talked to her once again.

“You…a musician?” His accent was thick, prolonging the vowels and pronouncing his consonants to a crisp. “You zing yah?”

It was hard to understand at first but he made an effort to repeat the question and was finally understood by her. She nodded.

“Playing…for zah Id Muzujika?” The leader of the guard asked once again.

She nodded once again.

“We mussa hear you play.” The leader of the guard ordered.

“Don’t worry about that, sister.” Papillon whispered to her calmly. “Let me save your ass.”

She slowly took out the thickly covered Papillon on her back and unraveled it in front of the guards. Her heart beat violently as her weapon was slowly exposed to them. However, she couldn’t break her cover now. She had to trust Papillon with whatever she had for her.

As she finally opened the last cloth, she was surprised to discover that her weapon became a harp; a beautiful golden harp that even an elven nor dwarven craftsmanship couldn’t dare match. She picked up Papillon and strummed its delicate silk-like strings.

She closed her eyes and began to play a melody she learned from her childhood, the Last Spring of Eovelain. Orphella delicately flicked the strings and produced a wonderful, yet sad tune. The story of the elven slave Eovelain who fell in love with a god and suffered for her love.

She played the tune delicately and gracefully that her music attracted a crowd of people from the line. They listened to the music and sang along with tune.

“Her heart was delicate like a budding flower waiting to bloom.

His heart was of the sun, strong and warm too hot for one to call their own.

Her prayer was for him to listen to her pleas of her undying love, a promise of eternity…” People sang in chorus to her wonderful melody.

As the song was reaching its crescendo, Orphella’s mouth twitched as if she wanted to sing the painful chorus of the sad song. But she doesn’t have her voice. She couldn’t even if she wanted to. She simply smiled and played the notes of the song, when suddenly.

“One fateful night she looked at the sky and wailed her last cry,

Oh, dearest deity of the sky hear my plea for I am about to die,

If you cannot love me back, I shall lay on this ground and die.” She uttered.

Orphella was surprised to hear her voice for the first time. Her mouth twitched as she tried her best to hold back the tears in her eyes. Her hands trembled as she tried to control herself from breaking down.

“Stay calm, sister!” Papillon whispered in her mind. “Now is not the time for that. I just lent you my voice so you could at least sing that final part. Please, don’t blow your cover.”

She quickly composed herself and looked at the people around her. She couldn’t help but noticed the guards wiping the tears off their eyes. She turned around on the line and saw how the people wept as she played the last few notes of the song.

As she ended the song, she was met with applause from both the guards and the people in line.

“Apologies for the doubts.” The leader of the guard bowed and showed her the way into the city. “We hope to see you play in Master Maharmoun’s house!” He smiled.

Orphella wrapped Papillon and smiled back at the guard as she entered the town. She entered the town looking around the blocks of houses atop of each other. Now that she had managed to enter the town, she took out the note from one of her hidden pockets and read it.

“Find Lamentosza.” The second part of the note said. “Be part of Id Muzujika.” It added.

Before she could finish the last sentence of the letter. A guard called out her name and was running towards her. Rather than run away, Orphella took a deep breath and hid the paper once again on one of her secret pockets.

“You left your paper.” The guard said. “Never…leave your…paper.” He warned her before giving the document back to her.

She immediately bowed down in apology and took the paper and placed it on her satchel. She waited for the guard to go back to his station before pulling out the secret note once again, and finally, reading the last line.

“Kill General Maharmoun..”  The order has never been clearer.