Chapter 150 - Faestien

The King and Queen of Ilvedia at that time were nice people. Not good, not bad... but nice.

They are certainly not as horrible as King Casserome. They are known as people who love luxury and lavishness, but are not power-hungry enough to be tyrannical in achieving it. They give to charity, and the Queen even sings whenever they do it, touring the Kingdom every year to hand out goods and benefits. This has been called Blessing Day.

Blessing Day is a series of continuous festivals aimed to 'celebrate the poor and needy'. Churches open up to give free food to the sick and homeless. The nobles are obliged to give one-tenth of their possessions and earnings for that year to sponsoring scholars that are from the lower sectors of society, or to give land to farmers to plow and harvest. The merchants are told to lower the prices of their goods up to half of the original price. 

It is not as festive and colorful as the Crimson Wolf festival in Crescentia, but it's just as joyous and wonderful for the common folk. Many advisors from other kingdoms had advised their monarchs to copy this kind of yearly festival, to increase their reputation and public favor. After all, news of insurgence had been spreading, particularly in kingdoms like Zhauli and Alfend.

Faldenhorf is also doing its best to stomp down spies and rebels that came like flies left and right on their Palace and the Capital. One almost beheaded the current king and queen with a discus. 

A philosopher from the Kingdom of Knowledge itself had spoken a powerful message to the nobles and aristocrats that struck them to the core: "Giving knowledge to the masses is a noble deed, but knowledge means power. Giving power to the people is a noble deed, but if these people despise you, that very same power can be used as a flame to burn you."

And so, for a short while in the history of the Thirteen Kingdoms, versions of the Ilvedian Blessing Day had been practiced. That is why this era had been called the Calm Era.

The Calm Era started because of the current King and Queen, to which they are very proud of and want to uphold such reputation as peace-loving and benevolent monarchs. Their names were King Fabian, and Queen Drielle.

King Fabian and Queen Drielle are not good people. They're just nice.

Their son Faestien is the only one who knows.

"Ugh, look at what that slave girl did to my clothes!" The queen complained at the end of a grueling day of doing public service. "I must discard of it at once! I don't want it anymore! It use to be my favorite dress but it's now so... so... grimy!"

"Sigh, scholars from the Muds keep increasing. Soon, they will overpower the rich scholars in schools, and who will receive all the complaints of the lords and lordlings!?" King Fabian rubbed his elbow.

He was wearing the old-fashioned white wig that Ilvedia uses as a sign of authority. The fancier and more curls, the higher you are on the social ladder. That is why it is strictly forbidden and despised to have light-colored hair as a commoner, because such wigs are only given to the masters of the kingdom.

"This is all your fault, Drielle." He sat on his chair as a personal servant wiped his shoes for him. He lazily kicked the shoes off his feet which went directly to the nose of another servant.

But he did not care. That servant did not make any reactions besides covering his bloody nose, and moving out of the way to clean it, afraid to disgust the King with the sight and suffer a worse injury if he did.

Little Faestien steps by the side to let the servant move away. He greeted him "Good morning." But the servant did not respond.

Because all their tongues are cut off.

Yes, to be the highest attendant to the 'peace-loving and benevolent' King and Queen of Ilvedia, you must maintain secrecy for all the affairs they speak of. And to ensure that secrecy....

Upon being an attendant, you must have your tongue cut off.

They do not accept literate attendants either.

This is the perfect way for them to release all their pent-up frustrations towards the vile, disgusting wretches they have to face every day just to appear kind and generous. They wouldn't have to worry about their reputation being ruined by a single, little mole.

But they ignored the largest mole of them all.

Little Faestien continued watching and listening to his father and mother's conversation by peeking through the door. They were not aware of his presence, just like they aren't aware of his presence everyday. To these two adults, the little rascal is nothing more than a doll to dress up and show to the public to gain more goodness points.

The problem is that the little rascal was born with blue eyes.

It was a strange, unexplainable phenomenon. None of the monarchs of Ilvedia had blue eyes. Thus, the queen was blamed again, being interrogated if she ever had a lineage of an Outlander Ilvedian or a Crescentian even.

To which, she would fume and puff up her cheeks and shout, louder than the booming thunder. 

"AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

That is what she always does when she is frustrated or blamed again. Her favorite words and arguments to say are the following:

"WHY ME!??? WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME WHY ME!!??????"

"SILENCE!!!!!! DON'T SAY ANOTHER WORD!!!!!!"

"AHHHHHHHHH!!!!!!! INSOLENT FOOL!!!! I WANT EVERYONE TO DIE! DIE!"

Little Faestien is sure that his mother is insane.

She is just good at keeping her madness within her bed chambers shared with his father.

It had always been this way even when he was a baby. When he was an infant, he would cry and cry from his mother's tantrums, to which she would throw a fist at him until his tired and reluctant father would carry her and push her to bed. She would then be tied up by ropes and gagged on the mouth until she calms down.

Now that he is older, he learned to only cover his ears. But even then, her shouts are deafening. She speaks fast and loud, like a parrot, or an annoying chicken. Little Faestien wishes the parrot can just be cooked for dinner and disappear from his life so he can finally sleep.

Faestien himself is aware that he is not a good boy. Like his parents, he is nice.

And he harbors strong loathing and disgust deep inside.

Unlike the future Prince of Ilvedia, one who will be named Leron, and born with blue eyes like him..... Faestien knew from a young age about the evil within him and does not feel guilt for it. He does from time to time, but he knows there is a reason for the demon to exist. If he doesn't let it exist, he too will go insane.

There is no dichotomic Beast or White Lie within him. He is himself, and both.

The truth is, it wasn't the slave girl that dirtied his mother's clothes to that extent. While she's not looking, he had thrown a small open bag of muck and dirt, which splattered beautiful art into this boring canvas of a dress. 

He did it out of pettiness, and thus caused an innocent to be blamed, but he doesn't care. He did it for a good reason. His mother will be moving him to an academy despite not wanting to. That particular slave girl that was blamed will not receive any punishment, or else his parents would appear bad in front of everyone. He made a mental note of donating a big sum of gold to the girl's parents tomorrow when they tour the kingdom again.

See? He is not a bad boy either. He is nice, even nicer than his two-faced parents.

That's what he tells himself all the time. Yet subconsciously, he was aware of his own hypocrisy of thinking he was morally superior to these adults.

So much for the monarchs of the Calm Era. They are not calm at all.

Little Feastien kept growing like this. Getting some small revenge, until he can grow up, become the ruler, and reveal the true nature of his parents to the whole Thirteen Kingdoms. He is just keeping quiet like the servants, gaining more and more evidence to use later.

Because he doesn't like niceness despite being a nice person. He wants the Truth.

The Truth is hard to achieve. It is sometimes hard to believe when it gets covered by so many lies, and you must dig deep down and swim on its waters to finally reach it, like a pearl.

Then, that pearl will shine brighter than anything, fully blinding everyone once it's revealed.

White pearl.

White hair.

Someone dared to have white hair without being a lord or lordling.

And his eyes were like that of a vermillion bird soaring through the sky. His words were truthful despite appearing not so, his demeanor full of mystique as well as veritas. Faestien could not help but feel envious, and desire to be such a Truthful person.

"Good morning, my name is Faestien." He introduced himself to this enviable, truthful stranger. 

The stranger merely nodded, like he was the passing wind over his face and nothing more. "Morning, I'm Maelle."

This stranger is not nice, nor polite, good or bad.

He is real.

A real being.

Faestien wants to follow him. Be like him.. Be True like him.