I had to admit to myself that I should have seen it coming, but it was still a surprise, for multiple reasons. The unkempt man--King Zephyr-- continued smiling, as though this introduction was anything but atypical, and I heard a loud clunk as Captain Hyperion dropped to a knee, his head bowed. Garth knelt too, and tugged on my arm, indicating I should do the same.

“Oh,” I said, and crouched, letting my knee brush the marble floor, and turning my face down. I’d never been in the presence of royalty before, and wasn’t sure how to properly show my respect. I stayed prostrate for long enough that the muscles in my leg began to quiver. I looked up at the king, and saw Nox sheepishly shrug.

“You may rise,” the boy said, motioning with his hand.

At once, all three of us stood, and I fought back the urge to massage my still very sore leg.

King Zephyr turned to Nox.

“Was that you making that loud ruckus, my boy?” he asked, his tone completely free of his station, “it was a dreadful amount of noise out there. I think I saw some fires near Heldrtown, though it is hard to say.”

“He was involved, Your Majesty,” Garth interjected, his tone not free of his station.

“Oh, wonderful,” King Zephyr responded, “nothing like a bit of a party before bed to get you good and sleepy, and ready for the next day!”

“I fought against a Giant, Father,” Nox said, now reminding me of his extreme youth, “gave as good as I got, too. You’d have been proud.”

The king just nodded, and smiled at his son.

“I’ll bet. Did you defeat it?”

“No, Your Majesty,” Garth interrupted again, and Nox threw an baleful look at him, “Prince Luxor arrived to take care of the fell beast. I found Prince Nox in the town, and made sure to bring him back to you.”

“You mean you abducted me,” Nox accused, his eyebrows narrowed.

“Thank you, Sir Garth,” the king said, “I would have been inconsolable if anything happened to my sweet Nox.”

“Of course, Majesty,” Garth said, the very picture of demure civility, “it is my sworn duty to protect him, and I shall always endeavor to do so, even if it means mine own life.”

King Zephyr chuckled.

“Well, good show, Sir Garth. But, let us hope it never comes to that.”

Garth inclined his head, and slipped his bifocals back up the bridge of his nose.

“Father, these are the men who battled the monster with me,” Nox said, indicating us once again. King Zephyr nodded.

“Yes, it was Captain…” he said.

“Hyperion, Your Majesty,” the armor-clad man offered, “Chronos Hyperion of the Heldertown Watch. Son of Oros Hyperion, formerly a ranked Equites in Your Majesty’s Scorpius Nightsign.”

“Ah, Oros, I remember him!” the king said excitedly, “big brute, had that shiny spear if I recall.”

“It was a glaive, Your Majesty,” Hyperion said respectfully, “but yes, that was him. He served at your pleasure for a great many years.”

“Indeed,” King Zephyr said, nodding, “you are from the Onyx Province?”

Hyperion nodded.

“Yes, Majesty,” he said, “I was born in Yglim, but we moved to Heldrtown upon my father’s Appointment to the Equites. That is where I have been since I was eight.”

King Zephyr crossed the short distance to the captain and rested a hand on his shoulder.

“Well, you have helped protect my youngest son, no doubt,” he said, “so you shall be rewarded.”

Hyperion blushed, and shook his head.

“No reward needed, Sire. I serve the crown, and every member of the Royal Family,” he said seriously, bowing, “that your progeny should return safely to the castle is the only reward I require.”

The king let out a low whistle.

“That’s a true kingsman,” he said, “nonsense, though. You say you serve guard in Heldrtown? How would you like to be captain?”

Hyperion’s face froze, and I could tell he was fighting to not say something rude.

“Oh, uh, Sire…” he said, trying to find the right words.

“Goodman Hyperion is already the captain, Sire,” Garth said, his voice relaxed, “Your Majesty’s humor is excellent, even despite the late hour.”

The King looked embarrassed, but then relieved, he nodded.

“Yes, don’t look so shocked, Captain Hyperion,” he said, “I am but a jester, even if my jokes need a bit of polishing.”

“It was an excellent joke,” Hyperion said, measuring his anxiety it seemed, “my wit isn’t nearly so sharp at the moment. I blame the exhausting events of the night.”

Something about the king's manner made me think that perhaps it hadn't been a joke at all, and that he just didn't seem to have the best memory.

“Is there a commander of the guards currently, Captain Hyperion?” The King asked in earnest.

Hyperion shook his head.

“Sir Barrilyn took his leave last Autumn, Your Majesty,” he said, “the position has remained empty and awaiting appointment.”

“Then you shall have it,” the king said simply, and clapped his hands together once for emphasis.

“Uh, Sire…” Hyperion said, shocked, “that is quite the honor, but--”

“It is your honor, in fact, Commander Hyperion,” King Zephyr said, and turned to Garth.

“Witness?”

“Witnessed, My King,” Garth breezed.

“Seconded?” the king asked, and turned to me.

“Oh, uh… seconded?” I ventured, looking to Nox for help. The boy just shrugged and gave a non-committal nod.

“Splendid!” the king announced, “kneel again, Chronos Hyperion, son of Sir Oros Hyperion of the Scorpius.” The guardsman quickly bent the knee, inclining his head.

“Now,” King Zephyr commanded, “rise. You are now Commander Chronos Hyperion of the Heldrtown Watch.”

Hyperion stood, his bearing seemed incredibly controlled now to me, despite the situation.

“Thank you, Your Majesty,” he said, his voice firm.

“Thank you for your service to the crown,” the king returned, “now…”

"...Your Majesty?" the newly christened commander ventured, clearly needing something else.

"Speak freely here, Commander," the king said.

"As you wish," Hyperion stated, "I only wonder... the guards, in Heldrtown. They refused to leave the barracks during the attack. They said they were under strict orders from the Crown not to leave."

The king looked quizzically at the guardsman, and then to Garth, who shrugged and shook his head.

"Do not worry, Commander," the king said, chuckling, "I will look into the matter, you have my word."

Hyperion seemed less-than-satisfied with this, but nodded anyway.

"Thank you, Your Majesty," he said.

The king suddenly turned to me. My breath caught in my throat.

“Hubert, was it?”

“Hutch, Your...er, Majesty,” I managed to squeak, “Hutch Carthage, of the Berrywood, son of--”

“Carthage?!” The King exclaimed. He suddenly grasped me by the shoulders and stared into my eyes. I almost shrank back from his action, but was somehow able to keep my bearings.

“You wouldn’t happen to be in the line of Cassander Carthage?” the king continued.

“Uh, yes, sir, er Sire,” I said, confused, “that was my grandfather…”

“By the Great Creator…” King Zephyr breathed. He beamed at me.

“You’re Alder’s son, then?”

I was perplexed.

How did he know Father? I was reminded of the strange interaction between my father and the Herald.

“Yes, Your Majesty,” I said.

He shook his head, but his smile didn’t leave his face.

“Alder Carthage’s son,” he said, “remarkable. How is he? Still alive, I hope?”

“Goodman Carthage was Appointed to Libra, just this afternoon, Sire,” Garth offered, “though he could have chosen any of the Nightsigns from the way it sounded.”

The King’s face suddenly morphed into anger, and he wheeled on Garth.

“WHAT?!” He shouted, and I watched as the green haired mage took a step back, frightened.

“Your Majesty…?” he asked.

“Why wasn’t I told of this?!” King Zephyr demanded, and suddenly Garth looked quite small.

“I, er, do not know, Sire,” he said shakily, the first crack in his armor I’d seen since meeting the insufferable specter, “I wasn’t present at the Appointment. I was looking for Prince Nox.”

The King seemed to realize his reaction and suddenly calmed, his smile returning.

“Oh, my apologies, Sir Garth,” he said, “I’m a bit tired, and my mood is a bit erratic.”

“No need for condolences, Sire,” Garth said, his voice almost normal again, “it is late. Shall I call for an escort back to your chambers?”

“Not just yet,” he said, turning back to me. He peered at me, studying me once again, and cleared his throat.

“Your eyes are two different colors,” he said suddenly.

It took me by such surprise that I wasn’t sure how to respond.

“Thank you, Your Majesty.” I said.

King Zephyr was silent for a moment, and then just as suddenly as he’d said his words, he broke into a loud laugh, the whole of his rotund frame shuddering.

“I must apologize to you as well, Hutch Carthage,” he said, “that was remiss of me. I was just intrigued by your appearance. His eyes moved to the sides of my head.

“Ah, you are Ilfin as well,” he said appreciatively, “there’s strong Mana in the Ilfin heritage. Is your mother full?”

“Yes, Sire,” I said, “her name was Rekka, of Clan Wisteria.”

King Zephyr frowned.

“Was? I am sorry to hear that,” he said, “it is said an Ilfin death is a sadness the whole of life can feel. I am certain the world mourned with you in your loss.”

“Yes,” I said simply, “she is missed.”

The king shook his head.

“I am sure your Father still feels that emptiness,” he said, “Ilfin love is true, and strong. Unlike anything else, if the stories are to believed. Any who bond in life to the Ilfin are connected at the very soul.”

I didn’t say anything. It had only been a little over a year since she’d been killed, and it was still something I thought about every day.

“I didn’t mean to dredge up any ill feelings, lad,” the king said, his eyes worried. He rested his hand on my shoulder, “I should learn to quit speaking when I’m ahead. I so rarely succeed at that.”

I looked up at him and smiled wryly.

“Those were kind words,” I said, “a beautiful thing to say. I very much appreciate it.”

He seemed to relax.

“Can I ask how you know of my father,” I said, “and my grandfather? We are but unremarkable folk from the wood in an unincorporated Province.”

I had never met my grandfather. My parents had said he'd died before I was born, but had never told me much about his life, other than that my mother said he was quite charming. But, to know that the king seemed to think of both of them with such esteem was both exhilerating and confusing.

The King sighed, but his smile never faded.

“That is a long story…” he mused, his eyes suddenly focusing on something far away. A memory.

“Visit with me again, and I will share it with you.”

“As you wish, Your Majesty,” I said.

“Tell me,” the king said, moving away from me and crossing the ruby carpet to the central throne on the marble. He eased his ample frame into the seat and let out a groan. It was the sort of sound I often heard old men make when they made to rest.

“If you and your father have been Appointed,” he continued, “why are you out, galavanting around the Kingdom with my son?”

“Hutch wasn’t Appointed, Father,” Nox said, coming to stand next to me, “he was dismissed.”

The King shook his head.

“Alder Carthage was Appointed, and his son, in the line of Cassander was dismissed?” he clarified, as if being confronted with a preposterous lie.

“It’s true, Your Majesty,” Garth said, smirking at me, “while the elder Carthage was Appointed to Libra, the young Carthage here was measured by the Harbinger Arch, but none of the doorways lit to allow him to the ranks. It’s quite unfortunate.”

He was enjoying that. I should fill his robes with hornets.

“Nonsense,” the king said, waving the notion away, “that just won’t do. Sir Garth…”

“Yes, Sire?” the man asked, his expression suddenly worried.

“Summon the Herald,” he said.

“Might I ask as to the nature of your beckon, Your Majesty?” Garth asked.

“I wish him to be here because we are going to make an amendment,” he said, “Nightsign Libra is going to have a late arrival.”