"Anzvíti..."
"Oú ert Bienmǫgr?"
"Gleymdu því, Það mun vera langt ferðalag, ef við erum í hár saman."
"Isk år hvågur."

All of the northern language Agnatus heard was foreign to him. The names he heard weren't though. Elden, Ghisronia, Lilianna, Jarin, and Jobe were the ones he had heard so far.

"Wine?" asked a servant boy who walked by, making a hand gesture towards the three bottles on a tray in his hand. Without saying anything he took the red wine from the tray and popped the cork. He caught himself going for a swig from the bottle and grabbed a glass from the table. After pouring himself, his fourth glass of wine Agnatus was chatting and laughing with a group of people by the names of Opie, Klaus, and Riya. Even through the wine he was thinking of Aurelia. He soon faded away from the conversation and thought of back home. The waves of the ocean bouncing off the beach sand and rolling back around. Laughter. He and his father were walking down the beach, talking of the current war while he was on his short leave. Agnatus treasured this memory, the last he remembers of his father, they were so busy they don't even notice the crabs scuttling towards their feet. Ouch!. His father starts to laugh at the baby crab latched onto Agnatus's big toe. He snapped out of the daydream and heard a voice, the voice of a boy he had heard before, The wine boy, he knew him. From back home, he was one of the lords servants. The boy was still walking around handing wine to people, but he noticed him look over every 30 seconds or so. What was he doing here? The lord wouldn't allow this, would he? Was the wine just a little stronger than his home brew? All he knew was he was getting a bit tipsy and a boy from his home village was here watching over him.

"Excuse me" Agnatus excused himself from the conversation and went over to the fireplace. He added some more wood to the fire taking some from a nearby stack of logs and started to prod the fire. He started to see something strange in the flames. It was Aurelia's face. The wine, it was the wine, he took the rest of the bottle and threw it in the trash, immediately walking over to the table and getting some food. He had to get sober before he did something irrational. Luckily for Agnatus he was tipsy, not drunk and quickly started to see straight after sitting down to eat.

After Agnatus felt alright he stood back and up and found his small group and join the chatter once again, he could still feel the slight push on his word from the wine but everything he said was all from him. He started to feel self-consciousness start to creep up in the back of his brain. Before he could mess anything up he just started his next sentence with this,

"Have any of you heard of the southern marbled quail?"

Ople mostly stayed silent. She was almost never the conversation starter. But, most of all, she didn't know what to talk about with these people. The people sitting around her, were almost nothing like what she usually encounters.
Out of the blue, a memory of hers: When she was younger, she got into a fight with some kid, because she accidentally offended him.

She sat quietly, listening to their conversation; Their introductions; Someone spoke in a language she never even heard of. But, something didn't felt right. She felt that something was off. Was it someone around the table? Were the consumption on the table, poisoned? And then she realized!

She just arrived, and already more worried about having a conversation, than remembering to eat more. She giggled at her own silliness, before taking a bite out of a bread, on the table. "Wow, these bread are better than the one at the store," she thought to herself.

The group of twelve - she'd counted - seemed friendly enough, although the dark-haired girl situated at the other side of the table displayed a somewhat macabre sense of humour. "Ha..." Lilianna smiled uneasily. "Our king's a good man. I'm sure that if he wanted to do that he'd have warned us." She quickly averted her eyes and focused on the girl beside her instead. Ghisronia appeared to be the absolute opposite of the enigmatic woman that had addressed her before and it was a relief to find a friendly face in the crowd.

"Nice to meet you, Ghisronia!" she beamed, "Can I call you Ghis? My name's Lilianna but that's such a long name, so everyone calls me Lilly. Or shorty", she added ponderously. Her eyes darted left and right, observing the two as they devoured a substantial amount of food. "Wow, you sure are hungry," she continued without skipping a beat. "Guess you travelled far, huh. I came all the way from the north, but I baked this cake, you know, as a gift for when we got here. But after all those days it had gone stale so I ate it myself before we got here. It was still pretty good but not really fit for a king. I'll bake another one for everyone someday. Oh, yes please!" The last part was aimed at the boy who slightly leaned over the table to fill one of the empty cups. Lilly's had seemingly emptied itself in the past few minutes and her cheeks were flushing pink from the mead. She wasn't exactly used to drinking the strong stuff, not even the weak stuff; Sinegi was surrounded by mountain springs, crisp and clean and even when water didn't suffice, goat's milk was always in abundant supply. Needless to say that alcohol served to make her even more chatty and she happily smiled at the dark-skinned servant, then felt herself staring. There was something wildly familiar about him; not so much in his appearance though. It was more an instinctive feeling of seeing someone not entirely unlike yourself, and she was so surprised about the intensity of it that she completely forgot to thank the tall man and she slunk back into her seat a little overwhelmed.

Temporarily quietened she listened to the little exchanged of words between Jobe and Ghisronia, then gazed over towards the opposite end of the table as the girl beside her addressed the white-haired man set almost straight across from Lilly. The girl had noticed him before, and there was something unusual about him, all right. Perhaps it was only because she'd caught him staring at her with uninhibited fascination, and whilst the girl was not particularly shy, she wasn't really used to being stared at.

"I think he's a learned man," she whispered at Ghisronia. "Look at his clothes, he reminds me of my tutor, back when--" Well, she couldn't quite finish that, but the drink had loosened her tongue and it was easy to slip up. Not that it really mattered; surely people as important as the ones surrounding her right now would have bigger things to worry about than the fact that Lilly wasn't, in fact, a farm girl. Still, she grinned in apology before returning to her usual demeanour of bubbly optimism. "I'm so glad you're here," Lilly told Ghisronia in an almost conspiring fashion. "I thought I'd be surrounded by dark warriors and black mages. Glad there's someone like me here," she added confidently.

Mytchel’s offer got several replies from almost every occupant of the table. It looked like this would be the lot of them, then. Twelve people who’d also witnessed the Sounding. The very thought sent a sliver of dread like a spike through his gut, though he kept himself outwardly calm, topping off goblets left and right without spilling a drop.

Still, the notion nagged him. He should have told someone, said something about the terror that had thrown him from his fit of sleep, the roar that rang in his ears even now, but he couldn’t bring himself to utter a word. He’d even tried his best to avoid the court mage, though he got the feeling that the old man saw straight through him. It probably wasn’t far from the truth. It was the stuff of black magic, that, strange visions of what may very well be the future, hearing things no one else seemed to. It was evil, all of it, and the very presence of those others whom it touched sent a shiver up his spine.

In any case, Mytchel busied himself with filling goblets. Under normal circumstances he’d never reach across the table, but the table itself was long and rounding it for so few people would take longer than it was worth. One woman at the table requested a harder drink, to which Mytchel, grateful for the distraction, simply nodded and bowed, turning around and whistling sharply to a serving girl nearby.
“Burada ağır bir şey,”(something heavy over here) he murmured when she approached. He almost sent her away, but quickly called her back when ale was requested. "Və bəzi pivə, ki, bir." (And some ale for that one) he finished, pointing out the woman who asked.

Otherwise, he simply went about his business, nodding a bow to Elden. He knew the man, had served him several times. He served in the king’s royal guard, and seemed to be a good man. Mytchel could respect him.
All went well until one guest, an eccentric white-haired man, gave Mytchel an invasive up-and-down look. It wasn’t so out of the ordinary, as visiting nobility liked to compare servants in their host’s household to their own, but then the man started yammering.

“So even the King’s got one, eh? You, the gatekeeper...damn, but I wish I were still at Highmont University. The magical to mundane ratio in this city is simply-”

Black spots swam before Mitchell’s eyes, and for a second, he was unsteady. At first, he wasn’t sure what the man meant; did he mean Easterners? People of all types worked in the palace, Mytchel wouldn’t know why it was so astounding to see an Easterner here. Then he continued on, mentioning something about magic. Half of it Mytchel didn’t understand in his increasingly shocked state, his command of the Southern language slipping in dread. How… How could he know? How could he know about the evil harboured inside him, the evils he’d worked so hard to hide?

Horrified, Mytchel’s face drained considerably of colour. His hands trembled, though he wasn’t sure if it was visible or just a feeling. He found it hard to shift his gaze, wide eyes fixed on those of the white-haired stranger, and for a second, he was still. His heart pounded in his ears, and the room became very warm and cold at the same time.

A drawn-out second later, Mytchel got ahold of himself. While dread still fluttered in his stomach, he controlled himself long enough to clear his throat, shake his head, and utter, “Oh, I’m sorry, I believe you are mistaken…” in a shaky accent before he opted himself out. By then, the serving girl he’d sent away had returned with pitchers of the other drinks in one hand. Mytchel could have kissed the girl, but instead simply bowed to the guests and retreated as quickly as he could manage, without running, to the kitchens.

Klaus wasn't sure what kind of reaction he'd been expecting from Mytchel, but it certainly wasn't that. The servant positively quivered at his offhand remark. They stared at each other for a long moment, during which Klaus wondered if he should pat Mytchel on the shoulder ("You're magical! Congratulations! Sorry, were you not aware of this?"

And then the dark-skinned servant departed, without even filling Klaus's drink. He regarded his empty goblet with a disappointed look, then started when a heavyset woman dressed in black called out to him in a tone Klaus had only ever associated with thieves masquerading as prostitutes.

Klaus turned and subjected Ghisronia to the same full-body inspection that Mytchel and Lily had involuntarily received, tilting his head in a birdlike manner as he examined her. He'd passed over her at first in his magical sweep of the room, but upon closer inspection, there was a faint touch of magical ability about her. Certainly not a shape shifter. Parlor tricks? Healing magic? Klaus considered asking outright, but after the servant boy's startled reaction, he decided against it.

"I can't help but shake the feeling there's something more to you, sir."

What an odd thing to say. Then again, it was somewhat refreshing not to be in the company of scholars who both a) knew exactly who he was, b) knew exactly what he'd been banned from Highmont University for, and c) wanted to ask him questions about it.

"Just a man who enjoys his sprouts," he said, waving his fork at her.

He was about to launch into another tirade on the health benefits of eating your veggies when the copperhaired girl, the one who practically emanated "shapeshifter", whispered something to Ghisronia. From his end of the table, he couldn't hear what they were saying, but he got the faint impression that they were talking about him.

"Speak up, lassie, it's not polite to whisper," he said, bobbing his head at Lily like he would at any student caught gossiping in class.

The farm boy’s brief responses stung slightly, but there was no wound to her pride which Ghisronia couldn’t heal by gorging on copious amounts of food, which is exactly what she did.

“Can I call you Ghis?”

“Sure!” Ghisronia exclaimed, beaming broadly.

“My name's Lilianna but that's such a long name, so everyone calls me Lilly. Or shorty",

“Liliana? That’s such a pretty name!” The words flowed effortlessly from the larger girl’s lips, an almost flawless imitation of the giggly young maidens she’d found intolerable her entire life.

Ghisronia scooped up a handful of fried squirrel, scoffing it down with a loud crunch, licking up the remaining crumbs with her thick tongue. She chugged down a few decent glugs from her recently filled wine cup, before ripping the meat off of a rack boar ribs with her teeth and snapping it up like some crazed reptile. A ravenous look flashing across her eyes, Ghisronia snatched a large powder-slathered pastry off of the cake tray, stuffing it down in several quick bites.

"Wow, you sure are hungry," chirped up Liliana.

“Not exceptionally so,” Ghis confessed, in a tone that was slightly more akin to her true demeanour than the bubbly manner she’d been adopting whilst talking to the girl next to her “just a smidge peckish.” The corpulent young woman picked a lightly crisped pork pie off of a nearby serving tray; promptly followed by the rest of the tray’s contents, which all ended up in her mouth. “Besides, it’d be a shame to waste all this food.” She mumbled between mouthfuls.

"Just a man who enjoys his sprouts," the white-haired fellow remarked, in response to Ghisronia’s earlier statement.

“That makes one of us then,” Ghis replied, only half joking “Can’t stand those sickly green death-balls….Eurgh…” She scrunched up her face for dramatic effect, letting her tongue hang out. Now plagued by visions of sprouts, Ghisronia took the opportunity to devour some crisp honeyed-lizards, and begin work on a greasy chicken leg.

"I think he's a learned man,” Lillian whispered in Ghisronia’s ear, whilst she still had a mouthful of chicken.

"Look at his clothes, he reminds me of my tutor, back when--" the young girl stopped abruptly, which served to pique the thickset woman’s curiosity. She’d be a fool to take each of these people at face value, everyone had secrets after all, and the prospect of unravelling whatever it was that this seemingly innocent girl was holding close to her chest enthralled Ghisronia, but before she could inquire further she was rather abruptly cut off by a loud "Speak up, lassie, it's not polite to whisper.", followed by some curious head-bobbing.

“Lilly was just sharing with me how best to savour the taste of the orange-spotted eastern lizard.” Ghisronia shot back, keeping her tone polite and well-humoured. “Apparently running one’s tongue along said spots evokes a rush of flavour, however such a display would be unseemly at the dinner table, so my new friend thought it best not to speak this aloud. I’m sure you understand, sir.” Ghis gave a gentle nod, smiling sweetly before she turned back to Liliana.

"I'm so glad you're here," Lilly bubbled in a slightly more reserved fashion. "I thought I'd be surrounded by dark warriors and black mages. Glad there's someone like me here,"

Ghisronia grinned inwardly at the notion that she and this copper-haired stranger had anything more than their gender in common, but aloud she said “Me too! I was absolutely petrified that I’d be completely out of my depth here, but I’m so relieved to meet someone so sweet and amicable,” topping it off with a sugary little “I really hope we get a chance to know each other!”

Ghis spent the next few moments waging war on the banquet table; tearing through a plethora of pastries, several slices of meat, a farm’s worth of roast animals, and a few generous handfuls of sea food. Once her excessive spree was over, the young woman took some time to relax as her stomach let out garish gurgles, and her chair continued to buckle beneath her.

All of the conversation in the room stopped as two large doors on the opposite side of the room all of the group entered through came open with a resounding bang. Through them came four men, all clad in identical steel armor, each of their identities hidden behind the helmets which clad their heads. Elden's eyes payed special attention to the group, as he knew the men underneath the armors, they were some of those of his fellow King's guard.

They all walked in unison, like a marching band as the four then spread out with two on each side of the door as another figure entered the room, he was clad long fur tipped cloak over a beautiful blue and golden tunic, regal trousers and boots of the finest leather. A golden, jewel embedded crown sat on his long brown head of hair, a steel sword sheathed at his belt to show he was not a helpless royal, but a formidable warrior as well. It was the King, Ethan Tirius, who unlike many other nobles and royals from around the world was not fat and constantly drunk, but instead fit and watchful.

Deep eyes of green scanned the room as he moved towards the table, his guards breaking off as he reached the seat at the head of table, near Elden who had exited his seat and was knelt down on one knee, as was customary when a king made his grand entrance, though Ethan did not expect the others to do the same as his entrance was of great surprise to them. He then sat down, and let out a breath, using one ring clad finger to brush the hair from his face.

"I'd like to formerly welcome you all to my home, it pleases me greatly you all are here, my court mage informed me that you are the only ones that actually witnessed the Sounding, well besides myself, but I do not count when it comes to the next step." King Ethan said, his voice commanding and powerful, Elden still on one knee, which Ethan almost grinned at, motioning for the man to return to his seat.

"The reason I gathered you all here is indeed because of the Sounding, you all saw it, an ominous sight which has greatly limited my sleep since it occurred. My idea with your assembly was to create a task force to properly investigate the troubling sight before it comes to fruition, as I fear it may if we do not act quickly enough," He said, his eyes glancing around the table as he spoke. "Your journey shall begin tomorrow, I must warn you that it very might be a dangerous one, if any of you are having second thoughts then you are free to leave now. Any questions should also be raised now." He added.