Death Returns

An Invitation

1825

Calian Banik walked down the dark streets of Clohed, a small village on the edge of the Ophelia sea he was temporarily staying in for business. He tossed a small coin purse up and down in his left hand. He had just sold two bottles of worm hearts to an old woman outside of a tavern, which she was most likely going to use to cast spells. He found it amusing people still clung to the old ways and attempted ancient magic, even though it had been absent from the world for hundreds of years. He didn't mind though, it helped with sales.

He decided to stop in front of a few houses and look out at the sea. It was around 1 am and it had rained a few hours before, so the air was crisp and damp, the cobblestone beneath Calian's boots glistening with water in the moonlight.

He watched as the waves crashed against nearby rocks and occasionally sent a spray of water up to his face when they slammed into the wall that held the town above the sea. He closed his eyes and took a long breath, just listening. It was one of, if not the most peaceful moment he'd had in years. And of course, it didn't last long.

"Hey! Empty your pockets!" A small voice next to him said suddenly.

Calian whipped his head around to identify the voice and was met with a skinny, dirty man, with shifty eyes and a greasy ponytail. A long, shiny dagger clenched shakily in his right fist. The man looked rather sheepish, and not very skilled in the art of theft. Calian almost chuckled at his appearance, but figured it would be incredibly rude, so he just furrowed his brow and turned his body to face the man.

"Good evening sir. How are you tonight?" Calian asked, calmly.

"What..? I'm- I'm robbing you! Give me everything you've got!" The man hissed. Calian cocked his head to the side and looked the man up and down.

"Sir, may I say that your stance is rather.. flimsy."

"What are you talking about??"

"See, when robbing or otherwise threatening someone with a dagger, your legs must be strong, and your center stable. Or else-" Calian swiftly used his wrist to shove the man's right arm away, and at the same time used his right ankle to hook the man's ankle, and pulled. The man let out a rather pathetic shriek and fell to the ground, landing directly on his bum. As he fell, Calian took the dagger from his hand and pointed it at his face. "You see?"

The man looked even more scared before, and Calian felt pity for him, so he helped the man up and handed him the dagger back. "W-what are you doing??" The thief asked, confused.

"I am merely assisting a fellow working man." Calian said simply. "I understand the need for money, especially at times like this."

"You're crazy!"

"And yet, you are the one robbing me."

"Keep your gold! This is too strange for my liking!" The man yelled, shaking his head and fleeing. Calian smiled and waved.

"Have a good night, sir!" He called after him, chuckling to himself. He had never really been bothered because people always viewed him as odd. He appreciated his sense of difference, it helped him more than most would think.

He stared out at the water for a few more minutes, then continued on his way to the inn on the corner of Bartley Street.

***

when he returned to the inn. The innkeeper ran out from behind the desk and stopped him.

"Oi! Mister! You have a letter! Looks to be quite important. It was sealed with a royal crest." The large woman handed him an envelope. he took it and nodded a little, glancing quickly at the gold wax seal.

"Thank you ma'am, I appreciate you holding onto this. Very kind of you." He responded. The innkeeper blushed and fiddled with her corset strings.

"Oh, you're very welcome sir. You know, I never got you're name..." she said inquisitively.

"No, you didn't." Calian said as if he were just now realizing it. "Well, goodnight ma'am." He continued up the stairs and to his room before she could say anything more.

He took off his cloak and boots, then removed his coat and belt. He sat at the small desk in his room and finally gave the envelope a proper look. He studied the crest stamped on the wax seal and frowned a little. He could have sworn he'd seen the symbol before but couldn't put his finger on where. He turned it over and looked for any writing, but found none. He tore it open slowly and inspected every bit of it as he unfolded the parchment. He began to read, and what he saw brought horror and anger to his throat. When he finished reading, he dropped the paper to the desk and stared at the mirror in front of him. But instead of his usual reflection, he saw himself much, much younger.

Nineteen years ago.

His small face stared back, with just as much sadness and fear his current expression showed. Tears in his nine year old self's eyes spilled over as he watched his mother and father be dragged away that night. He swore he could feel the hot tears on his face in the present, but when he touched his cheeks, there was nothing.

He closed his eyes and tried to even his breathing, tried to focus, tried not to vomit. He picked up the letter and read it three more times.

Calian Banik,

We have heard from around the country that you are a world renowned traveler, selling your goods and gambling with kings and queens for all they're worth.
My wife and I, King Florian and Queen Ila, are very impressed and intrigued by your social status and wish to invite you to an event we hold for three months at the end of every year.
It is a party of sorts, a celebration that consists of whatever you wish, your freedom completely your own, every moment is yours, for three months.
It is completely secret, whatever happens here, stays here. No one will know what you do or who you are if you do not wish them to. Others will attend, of course, but you may hide your identity in any way you see fit.
If you wish to grant us with your presence, come to the castle at midnight on the first of October. Bring whatever you need, we will provide the rest. Speak of this to absolutely no one, bring this letter to the gates and a guard will let you pass.
And feel free to bring a mask if you'd like. There is the odd masquerade ball.

King Florian and Queen Ila of Grzech.

It was so simple, so short, yet brought back so many memories for Calian. The place he'd been raised, the event that he'd fallen asleep to sounds of every winter, the people who had sentenced his parents to death. Coming back to haunt him after all these years, after everything. He couldn't believe it. He never thought he'd see that place again. Never thought he'd get to see what really happened behind the palace walls.

But now, with an invitation literally staring him in the face.. how could he not go?