Chapter 119: Pleased to Meet?

"You really are something, kid," said Saul. Looking up at the blue dust scattered mid-air and slowly dispersing. He then shook his head, as if the decision he made was all but for nothing. "I should try listening to the young ones." He added and left as he saw that the mana stone was completely gone.

"Just a game, old man, just a game," Ned said as he wiped his cheek. A stain of blood smudged down his pale skin.

"Such a waste," Don said, approaching Ned with his bow slung behind his back. "Thanks for saving me back then. As for the... What happened back then, you know... "

"I don't mind at all."

"Well, never really knew you, and never knew you would break the prize. So, I stick with the one who offered me silver. Silly me, but, I really need the silver," Don said, and between his words, Ned could feel a strong desire, an apology perhaps. He just couldn't say it.

Don leaves the same path as to where the old man went, at the edge of the arena.

It took seconds before Ned remembered Swift. And remembering Swift took Ned to remember Kwan.

Kwan, the weeping, runaway, and ambitious was now looking pale. But it seemed that he was fine, with his smiling face, and teary eyes. Or might be it was his first time being hit by an arrow. The arrow pierced his left shoulder. Judging from the angle, it went just above his collar bone. He will be fine. Ned thought. Walked near Kwan and bent on one knee.

"Had enough of running?" Ned said, pulling Kwan off the ground. Murky liquid deluded his already worn-out clothing, some grass was tucked inside his messy hair.

Kwan stood while his left arm was angled near his chest. Maybe to lessen the pain. He was knitting his brows and raising a part of his lip inhaling along with a hissing sound. "Had too much"—hissed—"Ned, I'm sorry."

"Don't mention it," Ned said. Squinted his eyes while he wrapped his arms around Kwan's arm to support. Although Kwan doesn't need support, maybe, a gesture Ned could give to someone who saved him from scraping a wound—wound he could have without the wimpy kid pushing him dramatically.

Swift was gone. Ned thought after his eyes went speedy between the woods and the center of the arena.

"He left," Kwan said after some time He might have seen Ned looking for Swift. "Something's odd about the Swift guy—he seemed, soft?"

"More than that," Ned said under his soft breath. And smiled.

But, I can't figure it out yet. And thought.

The ground shook then the barrier vanished. Starting from the middle going at the edges. Slowly, the light dimmed as it reached the corner of the pillar.

People clamor. Some were shaking their heads, while they lowered their shoulders. Some won, who bet for Ned. But mostly slumped their heads down; people who bet for Swift. But none have expected that the new guy won, and reached level ten. They left while leaving a murmur only they could understand.

While other participants. The one who survived, but went at the edges to settle with the others and their lives, went leaving with a depressed look in their eyes. They might have won silvers. But the gore, the participants they once knew was killed by the arena.

After Ned and Kwan left the arena, with no other participants came into view, the arena cracked. Clanking, rustling, and grinding echoed the pit of Burmstone. Like a gear grinding with each other. Then the ground split open, swallowing trees, rivers, grasses, and the dead goblins. Less than a minute has passed, after the vibrating sound of the metals have vanished. The ground was left with nothing. Just a plain old mossy stone, and some dust.

"We need someone to mend you up, Kwan," Ned said looking at a distance where the rest of the participant went. There, participants took their winnings with a smiling face and some loathing.

"Kid," a voice rung behind their backs. "Someone wants to meet you."

Ned turned to see the man. It was the announcer. Purple long sleeves, and shining teeth. Brows always arched up above his thin eyes, and a smile he can't contain. He was accompanied by two city guards or perhaps a House guard, seeing the emblem engraved above their chest plate. Left of their chest was a circle; inside was a dark dragon throwing a breath of obscured fire at a figure so big it was blurry to tell.  The emblem was then finished by a three-dot, that when connected formed a triangle, above the big circle. The guards hold a convenient weapon. A spear made out of wood, and the tip was iron.

Aside from the leaving onlookers, and some participants. The arena went to silence. Without the cheering, the booing, and yooing, the arena was like a cemetery; noisy when someone was lamenting the dead.

Ned's doubts vanished when the announcer presented himself as Oreo of the House Tarragon. A tiny braided chain hung on his neck but whatever was fixed on the chain was hidden inside his purple clothing—purple vest piped with purple long sleeves and smooth and silky trousers with black shoes. 

Aside from the spear and a shimmering chest plate, with a strange emblem. Nothing was worth remembering about the House' guards.

With Ned's request, Kwan was led to an infirmary, still inside the ruins of Burmstone, while Ned was accompanied by Oreo and the two guards—making sure that Ned won't wander off their wary eyes. 

Oreo asked Ned to fix the graze on his cheek but Ned insisted that it doesn't bother him and he'd rather talk to the man, get his prize, and leave. Oreo agreed.

Ned was led to constant walking and turning along with Oreo's croaky voice as he informed Ned about the game:

Chance Arrow game was under the game called the Chance Game. It consisted of different games; like sword fighting, beast hunting, and a battle royal wherein participants must compete with other participants with different weapons and even the use of magic was allowed, and lastly, the chance arrow game where Kwan asked Ned to join. The killings were allowed as long as one joined the game, for the reason that no game was entertaining without the gore. And it was understanding since the game's rewards were huge enough that others would take years to save—a save that will take years even with their sweat and blood.

"After the collapse," Oreo added, he walked right elbow of Ned while the guards trailed them. "House Tarragon became weak, and in order to continue maintaining their House. Lord Tarragon came up with the game. Now he controls the city of Bogaressi, while at the same time having a seat as a member of the council of the Great House of Soak."

Ned heard a slight variation of tone as Oreo say the last part of his words. And it seemed that the two Houses: the once great House of Tarragon and the cunning House of Soak, would never forget their past.

The company turned to a brightly lit passage. There, guards stood with straightened back and firmed grip of their spears as they guarded the door behind them. Oreo walked, passing Ned, and approached the guards on standby, and he leaned. Ned saw his jaw move up and down after which the guards left their post.

Oreo gestured Ned to come along with him while he raised his index finger halting the two guards behind Ned. The passage was made with sandy stone, rough and tough. Along the walls were torches, strongly fixed against the walls, fire danced back and forth as the cool breeze of wind passed the narrow passages.

Oreo knocked. His left hand crossed behind his back, he stood firmed and unwavering. He may look comical with his thin eyes, and pointy nose, but Ned was assured by his presence. Ned couldn't find a blind spot. It seemed that the announcer was always watching Ned even though his back was open to Ned. Ned heard a second knock. Paused. Then another knock. The door was carved with the emblem, the same as the guards on their chest, spirals, and intricate.

Ned looked intimidating. He focused along with his breathing. Ned could smell something coming out from Oreo, smell like a wood burning, but the burn wasn't made of fire, like a hot metal against a plank of old wood. The smell of iron mixed with wood. And there was something more. Something Ned couldn't comprehend. Cold, but not heavy.

The door wedged open, a man in a black suit, inside was a black vest, who stood towering as bent his back glaring at Oreo. He was at least six feet.

The black-suited man leaned, and Oreo stretched his neck near the black-suited man and muttered words. Halfway of their muttering, the tall man took time to glare at Ned, and back to Oreo.

The black-suited man nodded, then Oreo retracted his body. He then gestured to Ned with his hands pointing inside the room.

The tall man took a step back as Ned passed the door and passed Oreo.

There, the black-suited man stood right of Ned, Oreo behind, while two aristocratic men were seated in the center with their charming seats.

To Ned's view, the man seating in the right was also towering. To his left was a shorter one, and to the left of the shorter one was an empty seat.

Across the three chairs was a table, this rectangular table was accompanied by chairs, the same chairs the two sat. These chairs circle the table. And across the table was a glass. Ned throws a gaze at the glass, and immediately he recognized that it was the box above the announcer Oreo during the game. This was the box where Ned saw a speck a dark figure moving.

So they're watching. Ned thought and glared at the tall man seated with his back.

The black-suited man, which Ned assumed their servant, walked and whispered words at the seated man.

After the servant whispered, the sitting man stood and spun around. He looked like in his fifties, visible amount of wrinkles around his dark blooming eyes. An aristocratic and thin facial hair ran between his mouth down to his neck, and a small wound, a cut from a sharp object, was visible under his silver-laced robe between his collarbone and neck.

The servant gestured a hand. Indicating both Ned and Oreo to take a small bow.

Oreo bowed, full bent. While Ned took a small bow, could hardly be called a bow. The servant cocked an eyebrow looking at Ned's presentation, while the man in charge dismissed both of them nonchalantly.

"It is him, my Lord," said Oreo. Throwing both hands at Ned openly.

The servant then crossed his hand behind, while the other hand stretched pointing at the Lord.

"Ned of O'rriadt, the patriarch of House of Sskat welcomed you," the servant said, long and steady breath. "By our Lord. The one true Lord that govern all and protects all. Lord Moror Sven Stormcrag Tarragon."

Accompany it with bells and dongs, the presentation would be complete. Ned thought.

But the servant wasn't smiling at all. He was looking at Ned.

You want me to clap? Ned thought.

The servant then looked back at the City Lord, who was showing red with how he was presented. But the servant wasn't finished.

"And to his right," the servant added. Direct and polite. Too polite. "His son, the one and only true heir to the throne. Prince Ulfkell Finn Stormcrag Tarragon!" The servant was proud. Too proud he almost shouted at the end.

Prince Ulfkell waved a hand without standing nor looking at Ned. Dark hair and pale skin was his motif. He then blew air and rested his back against the chair.

"Call me Sven, kid," Lord Moror Sven Stormcrag Tarragon said. Too long Ned agreed to call him Sven.

"Well, Sven—"

The servant and Oreo leaned closer to Ned, their heads almost kissing Ned.

"Lord," they both said whispering.

"Call Lord Sven; Lord Sven," the servant added.

"That's enough," Lord Sven said. "Let the kid go, and Twali, find my daughter."

Twali, the servant retracted, bowed, and pulled Oreo out the room.

Lord Sven then gestured to let Ned seat on one of the chairs.

Ned sat across Lord Sven, facing both him and the pale son. Between them was the table, and behind Ned was the glass overlooking the arena.

Twali the servant came back with a cup of tea, although looking more like a coffee, Ned sipped the black tea. The tea was smooth and sweet that it let Ned flushed away his thirst.

"Well," Ned said after the servant left. Sharp eyes gazed at the Lord. Putting the cup back at the saucer. "Lord... Sven. Why am I here?"

"You see—"

"Father, I'm sorry," a soft voice rang as the door fanned open with force. A girl, almost fifteen or sixteen came with heavy breathing. Ginger and silky hair that ran along his chest. Although a looking messy, she was still charming with her dark rounded eyes with thin and curvy lips. "I went—"

She paused looking at Ned. Dark eyes bore inside Ned's very existence. Briefly, she continued by coughing: "I went to the city. I forgot something. How was the game, father?"

"Ahh," Lord Sven said. "Indeed you are, do not be bothered. Here, have a seat." He waved his hand and looked at Ned and back to his daughter and said: "Ah, yes, yes, this is Ned. This month's winner of the Chance Arrow game, he wasn't just a winner dear. He finished the top ten!"

"My bad, my bad," Lord Sven said some more and looked back at Ned. "Kid, she's my daughter. Forgive her punctuality, but she's always like that." He turned and looked at his daughter. "Dear present your self."

Ned stood and bowed, a little more than the bow he made to Lord Sven. "I'm Ned of House of Sskat."

The lady curtsied by clipping both the edges of her dress and bowed slightly. Like she was forcing herself to be as mannered and soft as possible. She then said in soft and warm breath: "Pleased to meet you, Ned. I'm Sasani."