Chapter 105

Mind’s Limits

“We found him in a shallow grade, boned hand poking out of the dirt, two fingers cut off to metacarpals, left-side parietal bone holed. It was a ghastly sight, yet a marvelous discovery.”

Historic Archives, Vol. I – Age of Light

It’s been a week since Noah had returned to Elucido. On the surface of things, he noted, it was an uneventful week. Save for the first day when he ‘visited’ Maria, he spent most of the rest of the days either locked up inside his room or ‘visiting’ others at night, though never discovering anything of a meaningful note. He found the return to such boredom rather invigorating, distanced from the burning inferno and the monolithic mythologies that he had no desire to partake in.

His visitors over the past week included only Asandra and Reya, the latter informing him that her ‘mission’ was a success, while the former would come daily for a short chat. He found the days more than just pleasing, yet he couldn’t relax. However calm the days may appear, he knew that the undercurrents were surging, and he had no means of seeing them.

Sighing, he closed a tome he was reading, Shepherd’s History, a fictional tale of a young, charismatic hero who traversed the peninsula in search of his true love, only to accidentally stumble upon a great conspiracy that threatened the Kingdom. He, heroically of course, stood against it, and in the end won the heart of the Princess, living happily ever after.

The more Noah learned about the culture of Lumina Kingdom, the easier he found it to think of the Kingdom as his home. After all, tales like Shepherd’s History were as common as oxygen back on Earth, and the romantic notions of heroism and sacrifice were virtually identical. Despite potentially being galaxies away from Earth, in a world inhabited by magic no less, the core values of human pathology remained unchanged.

The doors suddenly creaked open as he turned, expecting Asandra; yet, the momentary sound of the bells indicated that it was someone else, someone he had the intention of visiting ever since arriving, yet never found enough motivation. Quickett sauntered in as though it was his room, his outfit still just as ridiculous as ever before, his eyes darting about the room until they landed on him. The lipstick-smeared lips stretched out into a smile, and Noah had to consciously prevent himself from shuddering at the sight. If anything, the jester truly knew how to crawl under someone’s skin.

“Ah, my Dearest, most beloved Dacent is finally back,” he said, walking over. “I am a bit hurt, however, that you have been here for a week and never came for a visit. My nights… have been lonely.”

“… really?” Noah grinned at him. “I was half-expecting you’d have become a father by now. Claire must have been disappointed to learn the love of her life would much rather conjoin in bed with old men like me.”

“… you jest, Dear Dacent,” Quickett smiled bitterly, sitting down across from Noah. “I can barely keep the two of us safe; how would I bring a child into this world under these circumstances?”

“If circumstances always kept people from making children,” Noah said. “We would have gone extinct many, many moons ago, jester.”

“Fair enough,” the jester chuckled, pouring himself a cup of ale. “How about you, then? Did you ever father a child?”

“… why are you here?” Noah asked instead of answering.

“Oh, beyond just missing you,” Quickett said. “There is also the issue of our dearest Prince whom you have dazzled, it seems, with your letter.”

“…” Noah remained expressionless, rapping his finger against the desk. “He’s desperate.”

“Of course he’s desperate,” Quickett sighed. “His Father had been murdered, two of his sisters nearly killed, and every Family of note in the Kingdom will soon begin gnawing away at the Royal power. I’m honestly surprised he hadn’t started howling like a mad wolf by now.”

“Not everyone enjoys being seen as insane, I’m afraid,” Noah said. “What’s your read of him?”

“… my read?” Quickett arched his brow, quizzical expression on his face.

“Hm,” Noah nodded. “Trustworthy? Naïve? Conniving?”

“… hmm,” the jester put down the cup and rubbed his chin for a moment before replying. “To me, Prince Evon was always… stable.”

“Stable?”

“Hm,” he nodded. “Most others in the Family, if they weren’t stabbing someone in the back, were parading their name out in the open, or impregnating maids. Prince Evon, on the other hand… is normal. Eerily normal, if you ask me. He has a lovely wife, four children, and rarely makes public appearances. From what I’ve noted in my years as a jester, he is devoted to his work – whatever that may be – but… I was never able to really dig out a scandal pertaining to him.”

“… that’s impossible,” Noah shook his head. “If he had no scandals, he would be dead.”

“You asked for my opinion; whether you like it or not… that is up to you. Oh, and he was also looking for that associate of yours.”

“… associate?” Noah asked, frowning.

“Yeah, that merchant that you sent to rescue Claire,” Quickett smiled meaningfully. “Apparently, our Dear Prince finds the man just as fascinating as I do.”

“…” He’s most-likely worried about finances, Noah grew silent, rubbing the bridge of his nose. If he chose to extend his hand to the Prince, he’d have three in tow – yet, he knew just how dangerous navigating those waters would be. In effect, all three want the Throne and the Crown, yet only one can eventually get it. He’ll definitely offer the Royal Coffers as means of binding the Nobles with debt. No, I don’t think he understands banking that well just yet. He’s probably just fishing, trying to feel it out.

“… what should I tell him, Dear Dacent?” Quickett asked.

“… do you know what Order is?” Noah asked, causing Quickett to sigh in frustration.

“Order?” the jester frowned for a moment before replying. “There are many Orders. Could you be a bit more specific?”

“… the one trying to claim Princess Maria’s life.”

“… you are well-informed.”

“And? Do you know anything?”

“… I know some things,” Quickett replied. “They’ve been around for a few generations now from what I’ve learned. Though nobody is quite certain who founded the group, it’s likely made up of Noble Families. Think of them as a contingency, for when a mad mind has a chance at the Throne. Or, well, in most cases, when someone they don’t like has a chance at the Throne.”

“… how certain are you in figuring out who the members are?” Noah asked.

“Why the sudden interest in them? Wouldn’t it be beneficial to you if other Princes and the Princess started dropping?”

“… if it is possible, I’d much prefer if no other member of the Royal Family die before the Holy War,” Noah said, sighing. “Otherwise, it will be impossible to contain the seepage.”

“…”

“So, how certain are you?” Noah asked again.

“I can’t make any promises,” Quickett shrugged. “I may hear a lot of things within these walls, but I doubt they’d be idiotic enough to discuss information about the Order out in the open.”

“… I’ll do some investigating on my own,” Noah said. “You just keep your ears perked. How’s Claire doing?”

“… well enough, all things considered,” the jester replied with a bitter sigh. “It hurts, you know?”

“… what?”

“She’s the love of my life, yet I can’t afford her the life she deserves.”

“… I was never much of a believer in love.”

“Who would have guessed?” Quickett interjected with a smirk.

“But, against my better judgment, I had loved before," Noah said. "And, from those few moments, I've learned that love… doesn't ask for much. If she needs mansions and jewelry to feel loved, jester, she will never feel loved enough."

“… maybe,” Quickett said. “But I still want to give them to her.”

“Both of you are still fairly young, jester,” Noah said. “There will be a lifetime of giving, eventually.”

“… if we aren’t killed beforehand.”

“… if you aren’t killed beforehand.” Noah nodded.

“… I’ll look into the Order,” Quickett said as he got up. “And, please, do contact the Prince; I’d very much like to avoid his late-night visits. They are not good for my heart.”

"…" Noah watched the jester leave, his bells ringing like a song. He'd grown used to the sound and the melody and even found them somewhat pleasing by now.

Sighing, he got up shortly after Quickett left and leaned through the window, letting the hazy wind caress his cheeks. He was pondering as to whether he should reach out to Prince Evon. He already had too many cards in play, and too many unstable relationships to maintain, as well as many promises he certainly could not fulfill. Lo’kret had also mentioned he would finish the song within a week’s time, and he was yet to contact Duke Godwind and further their cooperation. He had taken too much on himself, yet. In his heart, he still knew it wasn’t enough. He had to make peace with a simple fact – he could not control the happenings within the Kingdom any more than he could control the orbit of the planet.

It didn’t take any genius to realize that there were many powers at play, and many dissenting minds working counterclockwise. Unless he was willing to thrust the Kingdom into an era of chaos and ruin by wiping out virtually anyone who could threaten Olivia’s reign… he knew he would have to deal with things as they arrived. Well, it’s better to have friends than enemies, he sighed, rubbing the bridge of his nose in helplessness. Prince Evon, huh? Let me see just how smart you really are…