Hexe - The Great Exodus

[CH. 0046] - The Nightmare

Lamiasaat

Noun

Translation: Seed of the Nightmare

Definition: "Lamiasaat" is a term used to denote necromancers or alchemists who specialize in the creation of Lamia forms through dark magic using life force.

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Mediah, lodged amidst the noise of the banquet, felt a growing sense of unease with boredom. For some reason, he suddenly felt he was in danger.

The constant chatter, the peals of laughter that once seemed so lively, now grated on his patience. He felt like an outsider, a spectator to a joy he couldn't partake in. Even Zvoya, who initially piqued his interest, now seemed to irk him. Her presence was now suffocating him, especially her disgusting scent that intensified with the passing moments, weaving through the air like a disliked guest.

But his weariness was about to be shattered. The banquet hall was disturbed by the clanging of bells. The herald, accompanied by another server, rang them with a fervour that demanded the assembly's attention. The room gradually fell silent.

At that moment, King Xendrix rose from his ornate chair, clutching a golden cup in his hand, and his voice resonated across the hall.

"My loyal people!" he began, his eyes sweeping across the faces of his subjects, a warm smile gracing his lips. "How glad I am to see each one of you, and even faces that have been absent for over a Fall. This gathering, this celebration, is almost the happiest day of my life."

He paused, creating a slight cliffhanger for the room, which was hanging on his every word.

"Of course, my wedding, my marriage to my sweet Ulencia, holds the first place in my heart," he continued, jesting.

The banquet hall erupted into a chorus of laughter and applause, momentarily interrupting his words. He waited for the sounds to subside, a patient smile playing on his lips.

"First," he resumed, "I must apologize on behalf of my wife, your queen, and mine too. She has retired to rest. As many of you know, she carries my heir. My happiness knows no bounds, all thanks to that woman and the Holy Mother. How could I be more blessed? Perhaps King Orlan has some ideas?"

Laughter rippled through the crowd at his jest while King Orlan, managing to conceal his strained smile, nodded politely and waved to the attendees, a necessary facade in the royal spectacle.

"Nothing, Orlan? Well, best luck next time!" Xendrix lowered his golden cup, his gaze drifting downward in a moment of reflection. "After the tragedy that befell my father, a story not for today, I believed happiness was beyond my grasp. I thought the warmth of love, whether from a spouse, a friend," he nodded towards Mediah, acknowledging the presence of the Magi, "or my loyal subjects, was a feeling I'd never truly comprehend."

His voice grew stronger, "But now, I stand before you, feeling truly blessed. The love and support I've received has been a guiding light in my darkest hours."

Raising his head, he continued, "I hope, in time, I can prove my valour to you all. To be the king you deserve, a king worthy of your loyalty and affection."

His words resonated through the hall, and the crowd, moved by his sincerity, responded with a renewed round of applause and cheers.

King Xendrix, with a fluid motion, pushed his chair back and took two steps backwards, climbing up the stage, ensuring he was fully visible to everyone in the grand hall.