Echoes

Chapter 30

 Farok paced back and forth from one side of the platform to the other. His steps echoed throughout the empty room, on the occasion accidentally breaking from his predefined path, brushing his leg against the side of the throne. The king had some warriors bring in long benches for us to sit on, akin to logs more than chairs. Shae rested her head on my shoulder, still dressed in white from the funeral.

"What are we waiting for?" I blurted out, stopping Farok in his tracks. I really wasn't in the mood to sit around waiting all day.

"The rest of the candidates," Farok replied, resuming his pacing.

"Candidates? For what?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. "In case you haven't noticed, I no longer have an adviser. Therefore, there's a job opening that needs to be filled."

"Can they at least hurry up?" I grumbled.

The doors swung open. I jerked my head around to see Pix striding through the doorway. Her appearance had changed drastically, her grey hair in a long ponytail, head held high. She wore a white tunic, black pants and boots, a metal breastplate covering her chest, purple cloak streaming behind her as she strode across the room.

She knelt before the platform, using her sword as a crutch. "King Farok, the candidates you requested have arrived."

"Good. Send them in."

Pix nodded and stood up, turning to leave but stopping next to our bench.

"Are you two alright?" She asked quietly.

I nodded. "Getting by. How about you, you look amazing."

"Thanks," she shrugged, her voice flat. "Standard Guardsmen uniform. Though I won't receive the general chain until we return to Tomaleya."

"I'll make sure I'm there when you do," I replied.

She smiled, but it was cold. Pix left the hall, in her place sending in five arbitrary people. They looked nothing alike. One was tall and gangly, another shorter than Pix herself. Three were men, two women, of all colors, sizes and ages.

"Come forward," Farok beckoned, the five candidates stepping before the platform.

He glared down at them, pacing slower than before, examining them like a surgeon, his eyes picking apart details.

Farok pointed at a stout man with white hair on the end of the line. "You, who are you?"

"Baro Relder, sir," the man replied.

"And what makes you qualified for this position?" Farok pressed.

The man paused, gathering his thoughts.

Farok scoffed. "You're answering too slow. Out!"

The man cowered and ran out of the room. I turned my attention back to Farok, my eyes wide.

"And how about you?" Farok snapped, jerking his chin at a woman with skin darker than night.

"Eyck Dimina, sir," she said confidently. "I believe I'm the best candidate, as I can direct you make decisions based on what is best for the Odaria."

Farok raised an eyebrow. "Really? And what do you think is a good move for the people?"

She opened her mouth to answer, then closed it.

"As I thought. Out!" Farok shouted.

She scurried out of the room.

I stood up. "Farok, this is insane. You're never going to find an adviser by throwing them all out."