Dance With Darkness And Light - Chapter 4 Demands
“Ok Bram, prepare a bath for me, it’s been days anyway,” Bazuul ordered his servant.
“Of course, should I send in a few maids to help?” Bram asked even though he knew full well that his master disliked human touch.
“No way, bring these instructions to a good tailor and tell him to come to my chambers with the materials on the list,” Bazuul said as he stretched himself.
As Bram observed his little master for a moment, he felt a difference – his eyes seemed to be a bit clearer than before – and his complexion looked like it had lost a bit of the weight it carried before. All in all, his master seemed to be a bit more lighthearted then he did yesterday.
“Sir Aleoni will be pleased to work for your highness I’m sure,” Bram answered as he made his way out.
On his way to carry out his orders whilst Bazuul lay floating in the water, he passed the main hall and saw a surplus of magister presence. Apparently the Circle – an organization representing all magisters on Ytolan with its roots in Atlantis – were seeking an audience with the king. He paid it no mind since this actually happened a lot.
Ever since Atlantis landed in the Endless Tides four hundred years ago from outside of the firmament, brought their magic with them and spread it to most of the people on Ytolan. Unknowingly to all, also expanding their influence all over the realm.
Of course, there were freelance magister but the vast majority was educated and thus bound by the Circle.
When Bazuul lay in the waters he shut out everything around him, and he slowly fell into his own world. Suddenly, the newly formed pool of darkness and light started to rotate like a plate on a stick. Bazuul slowly balanced this pool and shortly after a light shot through his body, making its way upward. After vanishing in his forehead he felt a pressure between his eyebrows. It wasn’t painful, although it felt like something was about to crack open, the sensation he felt could be best described as releasing.
As slowly a warm tingling sensation passed the backside of his neck toward the lower parts of his body. Spreading all over, even into the waters. It seemed as if for a second the bath itself was filled with light as it slowly found its way back into Bazuul. This light reflected in his eyes as he opened them. He left the bath afterward and put on some new clothes. Just then Bram came back with a pale expression.
Without even seeing Bram’s face Bazuul asked:
“What is it this time Bram?”
“My prince, the Circle is seeking an audience with the king. They want to investigate your…situation and they want compensation for what happened to the Magister” He stuttered.
“Mmmh? Compensation? Interesting…so, when is the tailor coming?”
Bram looked at the twelve-year-old master of his that carried a relaxed and non-committal look on his face.
Wondering to himself if his master simply did not care or if he, as a twelve-year-old, did not understand the urgency of this matter. Then again he was a prince of a kingdom, even though he laid hands on a magister, it’s not like he was a commoner that could be easily executed. Plus he was only twelve years old.
“The tailor will need some time, he is currently assembling all materials needed and will be here by the hour.” He then said.
“Good, you may leave for now Bram!”
“As you wish master”
For the remaining hour, Bazuul stayed in his chamber, using parts of his knowledge he just acquired in the Akashic library. First, he tried to understand the pool of darkness and light. Yet, for unknown reasons, he could not reach the deeper parts of the library. Thus, he looked for knowledge about the black ooze on his face this morning, its causes, and the meditative state he wanted to re-emulate.
Since his body was rather weak and his life-vein was damaged by whatever means were used to murder the former Bazuul, he initially tried to use that shield of darkness he accidentally used against the magister.
In the end, he couldn’t feel or use the darkness at all.
Now the light aspect was completely different from the darkness. Whilst re-emulating the meditative position he unconsciously used last night, it’s side of the pool illuminated. Warmth and calm spread through Bazuul’s body as his brain felt a tingling sensation and inspiration surged through his mind.
Suddenly he opened his eyes and looked toward the door as if he was waiting for something. What followed were three knocks and Bram’s voice saying:
“Master, Sir Aleoni is here and ready to fulfill your request.”
“Come on in then!” Bazuul answered while chuckling.
After about three hours the deed was done.
Bazuul sighed loudly and said: “Finaaaally!”
He was now equipped with a new set of clothing designed to his liking. They were simple and yet elegant. All black linen clothes tailored in a more Earth-like design, coupled with golden colored threads as a contrast. Sir Aleoni also embroidered the top with the ralunian insignia right in front of Bazuul’s heart.
At about this time a kingly servant knocked and came with orders to escort the prince to the throne room to attend matters at his father’s side.
Whilst Bram feared for the worst, Bazuul curled up his lips as a light of excitement and anticipation lit up in his eyes.
“Let’s not make father wait then.”
~~~
“Your highness, this matter is rather serious. The elder’s are concerned about it, although the magister did not die, how could a supposedly dead child almost kill a magister. The Circle demands custody of this child for further investigation.” A scrawny looking middle-aged man wearing a grey robe with an aloof expression said.
The king sitting on his throne looked at the grey-robed man and his group Circle magisters in kind.
“You mean the prince, prince Bazuul to be precise.” The king said in askance.
“That is exact, your highness.” The magister said politely but obviously didn’t mean so as the “..your highness” contained some ridicule.
Varanur actually didn’t mind, with his strength, he could easily kill the five of them with a single slap. So he smiled a little and said.
“Say it!”
The magister was actually kind of lost at this moment and looked at the king in askance, saying.
“Sa..say what, your highness?”
“Say my name, you dimwit!”
for visiting.
At this moment the king’s view passed the Circle’s group and looked toward the throne room’s entrance, a dignified and calm light shone in his eyes. The grey-robed magister, on the other hand, burst into a slight fit and yelled: “Preposterous who dares to call I, Darwinius of Elbridge a dimwit, show yourself!!” as he turned to punish the fool.
Only to realize that his body wouldn’t move as his eyes connected with this so-called fool. It was as if a blade pierced through his eyes, into his soul. Like a sharp piece of ice cutting into flesh leaving behind a burning sensation on the wound.
Bazuul’s eyes formed a slit and his head slightly tilted toward the right as he passed him and said.
“Hey.”
“P…prince Bazuul?” The magister stammered as he looked at this domineering child taking leisurely place at the stairs below the king’s throne.
The king was also a bit shocked, the imposing manner as he entered was as imposing as most princes, still, unlike the once timid Bazuul. What truly befuddled him were the clothes his son was wearing. That simply was not the princely attire of the kingdom, but the cuts and lining, the contrast between black and gold coupled with the sigil of this ralunian kingdom. A mix of elegance and wildness, garnered with the pride of the kingdom, truly a sight to behold.
Bazuul slowly clapped his hands with a mocking expression. “Good boy! Now tell me, how significant are you to the Circle and how far into Atlantis do your connections reach?”
The magister composed himself again, although some beads of sweat were already visible on his forehead.
“That is none of your concern, we will now take”
“Answer!” Bazuul said in a raised voice as it reverberated through the entire hall, looking more intensely into the magister’s eyes.
The magister actually flinched, the superiority feeling he once had beforehand as he talked to the king was completely gone now. He, a mighty magister of the Circle, an Elder, actually felt like an ant standing in front of an elephant, awaiting to be stomped.
“So you are no Atlantis original huh? Not even close…useless! I want to talk to an original and no less, take a pen and a piece of paper to write down this message for me and get it to one of the originals personally. Of high rank at best.” Bazuul said after this grey robed magister conveyed it all to him.
The magister himself felt like a puppet simply doing as he was commanded.
He came to prosecute a prince and to throw his weight around in a foreign kingdom, but reality had decided to take another path today.
“Thou, O man, art thy brother’s helper. Let him not lie in the bondage of night.
Now unto thee, I give my magic. Take it and dwell on the pathway of Light.
Light unto thee, Life unto thee, Sun may thou be on the cycle above”
Bazuul took a breath after this and continued.
“Since you’ve written that down you and your motley crew can see themselves out now!”
Bazuul said in a tone that was hard to believe that it came from a twelve-year-old boy. The lines he spoke were quoted from a book he once read back on Earth, supposedly from an Atlantean.