DEMON HUNT

Chapter 60: Rue the day

Cassandra appears in the quiet woods of Magmaterre. She is completely covered in black apparel, visibly in a mournful mood. The night sky is still pitch black. Omero suddenly appears behind her. Sensing his presence, she addresses him, but without looking in his direction.

Cassandra: It's an honour to be graced by the presence of Ocean eyes' grand commander. I hear you've also become high chief of the Hōlē. Forgive me for not showing you the respect due you. My body is rather stubborn tonight.

Omero gives a warm reply.

Omero: Nonsense. Leave the formalities for the soldiers.

Cassandra: I didn't feel you approaching.

Omero replies as he moves forward, stopping just beside her.

Omero: Mark brought me. It saddens me to observe that you do not look well, lady Cassandra.

Cassandra turns her face, revealing a forlorn look. She's been crying.

Cassandra: I cannot be well. My lord father has passed away. Under the most agonizing of circumstances, no less. Toro the unforgiving made sure.

Omero watches her as she kneels to light the candles placed on a heap of soil, resembling a grave. Omero's mutters coolly to her hearing.

Omero: ...yet it is Lisandro you light candles for.

Cassandra pauses. She stares at the candles she had lit, watching the flames rise and fall. She doesn't give a reply to Omero. He didn't expect a reply. He drops a question.

Omero: Do you remember how it all began?

Cassandra: Ocean eyes or New Oragon? My father gave a spee...

Omero cuts her short. He is sure she knows what he is actually asking about.

Omero: Not that. The beginning of what might be the end.

Cassandra replies softly.

Cassandra: A part of it, yes. Do you?

Omero raises his face towards the sky, furiously gnashing his teeth.

Omero: I do. Most of it. I rue the day!

Omero stares into space with resentment, the amount of which his often dull nature did not usually permit his face to show.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
The red light of the sunset is filtered into the throne room of Malvay's king Gregor, by the large glass windows. Applauses, jubilant cries of victory and tears of joys, usher in the king. King Gregor walks through the crowd, escorted by a dozen armoured knights, his purple silk robe majestically flowing behind him.

The throne room is the most lavishly designed room in the entire kingdom, an awe-inspiring sight for the few common-folk allowed into the chamber. All of Gregor's vassal lords are present to mark his first public appearance since the war. Gregor slowly drops to his silver throne. Standing on the dais beside him are commander Gaius, to his left, and the brave John Kado. Gregor quietens the crowd as he rises to his feet, dragging his potbelly with him. He unleashes his roar like voice on his subjects.

King Gregor: My lords, my people...people of Malvay, we have won!

This declaration gives life to the cheers again. There seems to be a great crowd of civilians outside the palace gates. A guard goes in and out of the room, sharing information with twenty other of his colleagues. These twenty-one soldiers, then make sure the eager crowd gets an idea of what is going on within.

The cheers die down again, paving the way for the middle-aged king to continue his address.

King Gregor: Ever since I heard of the incursion made by the Novalians, I've strongly believed these aggressors would fall before the might of our great country. When you point a sword at the pig's arse, you must be ready to face the dung that follows.