The clear sky stretched far and wide, the sun hanging high, its light shimmering across, the riverbanks full of life. Boats passed steadily, no troubles, from one side to the other, brimming with goods, the trade rich, fruitful and thriving.
The royal palace loomed, the halls chock full of maids, butlers and chefs moving with purpose left and right, the chefs cooking with immense focus, the maids cleaning whilst sweating from exhaustion, the butlers seemingly organizing everything neatly.
A seemingly middle aged man, hair neatly groomed back, wearing exquisite, ornate attire, his presence opulent, he straightens his back, chin held high speaks with authority, his voice turning heads, making him the sole pillar of attention.
"As the soon to be appointed king, I hereby declare that I will end the injustice that occurs to the royal servants!"
Some maids sigh in relief.
A few huff incredulously.
A handful of maids, daughters of minuscule rank nobles murmur to each other.
"Seriously? He'll definitely work us to the bone."
Few butlers shout in unison as they raise their hands up in the air.
"Glory to Ivan Silverhand!"
Their expressions proud and relieved.
The king smiles, content with the majority of granted support.
"The kingdom of Halia, the only kingdom of humans, WILL PROSPER!."
An old chef with prestigious status in the culinary arts leans back.
"Hope so, I need them ingredients exquisite, your majesty."
He chuckles, seemingly proud of his humor.
"Wouldn't want to dissatisfy you with a vulgar meal, now would i?"
Butlers and maids and chefs alike chuckle and giggle.
The king himself chuckles a few times at the joke, his shoulders shaking slightly.
"Of course, I'll make sure the agriculture is exquisite!
Can't forget about the grazing either, we'll need that steak quite tender, Chef."
Says the king jokingly.
A butler clears his throat before speaking up, his tone matter of fact.
"Your highness, the coronation will begin shortly, it's advised to prepare a speech for the citizens of Halia."
A beat
"And please make sure your family is prepared as well."
The king blinks once, he rubs his wrist, caught off guard.
"…Right, yes."
he says, as if brought back from a trance.
"Your reminder is much appreciated, Leon."
The atmosphere turned quite awkward, if not bizarre, a butler talking to a king in such a manner was quite abnormal.
Meanwhile in the palace garden, the lush greenery, the neatly groomed bushes rustle.
"So sis, do you really think dad is fit to be a king?"
Says the little boy, his orange hair flowing smoothly to his neck, a dazzling mismatch in the eyes, a glorious left violet, a crimson right red.
"Come on, Solaire, have some faith in dad!"
Says the little girl, offended by his incredulity.
"Come on, Sirella, you can't really tell me you think he can make Halia develop." Says Solaire as he facepalms, annoyed by his sister's inability to comprehend their father's incompetence.
"But he's KIND!" Sirella takes a profound step forward, her smooth blonde hair whipping with the force of her shout, her emerald eyes brimming with indignation.
She huffs, crossing her arms tightly under her chest as she turns her back to him swiftly.
As they bicker, a woman of smooth skin, her hair flows to her waist in a marvelous orange.
"Sweeties, this is no time to bicker." Says the woman, a warm smile on her face...
"Lest you want to face punishment." She adds firmly, her voice tinged with irritation.
They shiver, startled.
"YES, MOM!" Shouts Solaire as he abruptly salutes.
Sirella quickly turns to face their mom as well
"R-right!, Sorry mother!" she stammers slightly, anxiety dwelling in her chest at the threat.
"Now that's what I call royal children." She says gently as she clasps her hands loosely in front of her chest, leaning down to be level with them.
"I trust you'll keep that up, yes?" She asks warmly, her voice tinged with venom.
"YES MA'AM!" They quickly shout in unison.
They knew that their mother, queen Liliana, was not to be messed with.
Liliana straightens her back smoothly.
"Good, now then, the coronation will begin shortly, we should be there early, sweeties" She says, her voice calm.
She turns, expecting them to follow.
The children glance at each other
"Well she's vicious." Whispers Solaire, monotone.
"What was that?" Says Liliana as she glances back over her shoulder.
"N-N-Nothing!!" Solaire blurts out quickly.
Sirella covers her mouth with an open palm.
"You're a dummy" She says, her voice cracking from the giggling.
"Oh come on! Two on one?! Not fair!" he shouts, throwing his hands up in the air, exasperated.
The queen places her hand firmly on his shoulder.
"A prince is always brimming with manners, isn't that right, Solaire Sinclaire Silverhand?" She says calmly, her grip tightening momentarily.
She said my full name! Solaire panics internally.
"YES MA'AM!" He blurts out quickly, too quickly it wasn't even a conscious act.
The coronation of Ivan Silverhand loomed near.
What awaits is not what is anticipated.
The crowds awaited the crowning patiently.
Nobles, Viscounts, Counts, sat at the forefront of the crowd.
The high priest stood at the center, crown in hand, his expression stern and serious.
Ivan Silverhand lowers himself, a knee on the ground humbly.
The high priest spoke calmly.
"Ivan Silverhand, Do you accept the burden of king?"
Ivan closed his eyes momentarily, taking in the words.
He took a breath as he spoke.
"Yes, I do."
"Then I hereby declare you king." Said the priest traditionally.
The crown rested upon Ivan's head, he wasn't just Ivan Silverhand anymore.
"Glory to his majesty, Ivan Silverhand!" Shouted a portion of the crowd proudly.
A noblewoman fanned herself elegantly, her posture poised and graceful, she muttered to herself.
"He won't have that glory for long." A sly smile on her face
"I'm sure they'll be here soon." She added.
Behind the king, bearing witness to the coronation with sparkling eyes.
"Wow, he looks so cool!" Sirella whispered in awe.
"Shush sweetie, we have to remain silent." Whisper Liliana gently.
Solaire tugs at Liliana's sleeve tentatively.
"Mom?" He said quietly.
"What is it, honey? I did say to be quiet, no?" She said warmly, yet authoritative.
He pointed hesitantly at a house behind the crowd, a few men and women inside, dressed in crimson, their faces obscured.
"Who are they…?" Solaire says hesitantly.
Liliana squints her eyes, attempting to identify the men and women.
...Indeed...who are they? She thinks to herself.
Her eyes widen immediately
"THEY'RE ARMED!" Shouts Liliana in exclamation
The crowd murmurs, confused at the sudden intensity.
"What?"
"Armed? Who's armed?"
"I'll do you one better, WHY ARE THEY ARMED?!"
The crowd already erupting into tense anxiety at the queen's exclaimed shout.
"GET DOWN YOUR MAJESTY!" Shouts one of the knights intensely as he draws his sword.
An arrow flies with precision, tearing through the wind with immense velocity.
Ivan swiftly ducks, narrowly evading the arrow, the head shimmering with a sapphire hue.
"That...is not your typical arrow…" Mutters one of the knights, staring at the arrow, bewildered by it's speed and hue.
"Who are these people anyway?!" Shouts a noble angrily.
"We're supposed to be the only human civilization! What? do demi-humans exist now?!" he adds.
A woman appears abruptly, her presence calm and lethal.
"Quite the accusation." Says the women, dressed in crimson.
"We're humans, there's no such thing as demi-humans, honey." She says calmly, her voice soothing, her finger on her lip.
"Who are you guys then?" Says a guard nervously, heart thumping against his ribs.
"Oho, that's a secret, sweetie." Says the woman, her voice almost maternal.
Solaire tugs at his mom's sleeve, his eyes full of terror.
"Mom...i don't wanna stay here..." he says, voice shaky, the fear palpable on his face.
Ivan steps in front of his family valiantly, a magnificently crafted sword in his hands, gripped tightly.
"As the king I will not let you prevail!"
He shouts at the woman determinedly.
"You will not harm my citizens!" He adds, his voice brimming with conviction.
The tense atmosphere borders on material, common men and women alike remain frozen in the crowd, the scene far worse than their grimmest nightmares.
Who will prevail in this battle?
Ivan's knights and guards, untrained in fighting their own kind, or the enigmatic crimson organization?
A marvelous question indeed.