The Oreans

Chapter 45

Chapter 45

Disclosure at the Tournament

Alen had not been aware until lately that there was such a place as an arena in Rosienne. But there was. They called it Murido. Located at the foot of Rosei Hill in the north, at the bank of Lake Ross, it could be seen only from the Reinrose Palace — a spacious paved field bordered by stands rising as high as the temple. Alen had just learned recently from Madam Liana that though it was as old as the palace and the temple, the younger generation was generally unaware of its existence since it had not been used for almost a century. Through Archduke Guilem's instructions, it had been restored and cleared off all the vestiges of neglect in next to no time. Murido was the venue for the tournament that had begun a fortnight ago and had quickly become the sole topic not only in Rosienne society but throughout Florea.

Murido was almost in sight now, bustling with a life quite different from those the Bronzeans had wiped out just weeks before. Joining throngs of people, Alen had traversed the path towards it to witness every match of Rafim and Divan.

To Alen's immense relief and pride, they had won each and every one of their individual battles and each had acquired a huge following. Now, both of them were into their fourth. They had not encountered each other yet, but Alen was afraid it would come to that point. The two must know this as well, for though they were still friendly towards each other Alen felt the strain whenever they met.

Alen wished this would all end sooner, that a miracle would happen and free them, especially Rafim, from this burden—a miracle in the person of Prince Reihan. If only he were still alive... Princess Reishina thought he was so he must be. But where was he?

And where was Adrien? Of all the times he could have vanished, why at a point when they needed his counsel badly? What was taking him so long to return? Or could it be that—No, Alen did not want to think that something bad had befallen him.

"What are you thinking of? You look like someone in a trance."

Alen nearly tripped as he whirled about to face the speaker.

"Adrien, you're back!" he gasped, taking in the face showing through a black hooded cloak.

"Yes, I am," Adrien replied with a smile, putting his hand on Alen's shoulder. "I've missed you so much, boy. How are you?"

"I'm—"Alen wished to say he was all right, but that would not be the truth.

"Not quite fine, I suppose," Adrien said perceptively, "because of the tournament."

Alen nodded, wishing to ask where he had come from and why it had taken him some time to return. But his eyes fell on the man beside Adrien. He recognized the stranger who had left a message to meet Adrien before he had gone away nearly a month ago. This time though the man had on a lordly appearance, which, Alen supposed, was what he actually was.

"I see you've noticed my company," Adrien remarked. "You've met him already, haven't you? Wilmore is an old friend of mine. He knows you already—don't you, Will?"

"Yes, I do, Your—Adrien," Wilmore replied softly.

Alen looked from the man to Adrien and observed that though the former looked older and was more richly garbed there was deference in the manner with which he treated the Orean master. But before he could ponder on the meaning of this, Adrien spoke.

"I hope we're not yet late," he said. "Rafim versus Divan today... I can't believe they're doing this."

Rafim versus Divan? Alen was confused. He must not have heard Adrien right.