No one bothered to explain anything further to me. It seemed as though almost immediately the throne room was a chaotic bustle, as dozens of immaculately-dressed servants and members of King Zephyr’s royal retinue began filling the hall. The pastries and tea were removed, and replaced with breakfast. I was suddenly inundated with an overabundance of delicious-looking cuisine. There were heaping plates of fat sausages, garnished with slivers of spring onion and garlic; bowls of steaming porridge, topped with quickly-melting slabs of butter and dried berry fruit--which were then joined with ladles of fresh cream to cool the contents; a tray of fluffy, golden-brown biscuits swimming in brown gravy and topped with stone ground pepper and morsels of succulent, pan-seared beef; steins of warmed apple cider dusted with cinnamon and nutmeg, filling the room with their rich, spiced aroma. Two pristine servants carried in a large silver platter with a reflective cover, and when removed, revealed an obscene portion of cooked ham, brush-painted with a shining honey glaze, and sliced into thick steaks right in front of our eyes.

It was a garish display of wealth and power, and it wouldn’t take much of an investigative eye to discern that King Zephyr’s great size had been forged out of countless days of this exact treatment. Nox’s father was a man of unending appetite, it seemed, and he happily scarfed down each dish he was handed, his only sounds were those of appreciation as he accepted plate after plate of delicious food.

Nox seemed uninterested in the parade of perishables, but took a few bites of a biscuit before setting it down. Garth was dismissed, which he seemed to think of as a blessing, quickly marching out of the chamber, his nose still in his book as he did.

I was only able to try a few spoonfuls of porridge before the meal was removed and several members of the king’s retinue surrounded me and began tugging at my clothing.

“Oh, this won’t do,” one of them said, crinkling his nose at my tattered shirt and pants, “there are holes everywhere, and the mud…”

“And all this rope, it’s a very woodsy look, but we don’t want woodsy, we want something that says important to the eye of the beholder,” said another.

“Libra,” said yet a third, “don’t forget, he must look like he belongs.”

“Blue,” said the first, “definitely blue.”

“Blue,” agreed the others, nodding.

“Maybe with a bit of white, and let’s get him a cape. Green, to go with that eye.”

They fussed over me for a bit longer, until a few more servants appeared with a folding partition and quickly erected it around me. Suddenly, I was being tugged this way and that, my clothing removed, my weapon mysteriously gone. Before I could even protest, I felt them shrugging fabric over my limbs. Sections of my body felt smothered as laces were tightened and buttons were clasped. Within the flurry of white fluttering around me, someone had procured a comb, and I felt hands enclose my head. They were trying to remove my woolen cap.

“No,” I said, suddenly irritated, “not my hat.”

There was silence as the assembly seemed to be recalculating their assessment. A myriad of eyes peered back at me seriously, perhaps frustrated by my demand. But, a heartbeat later, they were moving again. They released my hat, but I felt the comb being run through the hair that was left exposed beneath it, snagging tangles as my hair was suddenly tidied after months of having been left to its own devices.

Once the prodding, pulling, scrubbing and pinching were finished, a large, floor-length mirror was placed in front of me. I was taken aback by the reflection. I stared. An army of judging faces framed my body, like the fan of a peacock's tail. I hardly recognized myself, but I couldn’t help noticing that I looked nice.

I was clothed from neck to toe in very fine fabric. A soft blue shirt with a starched collar and sleeves was cinched up to my throat in an almost military-style with lustrous mother-of-pearl buttons. I was wearing stiff white breeches that felt thin and airy, and were tucked into supple brown leather boots with a thick sole. A brilliant green cape spilled down from its fastened position on my shoulders and there was intricate blue stitching along the edges of the cloth, the bottom hem touching the ground ever-so slightly. Atop my head was my worn and battered cap, the faded red in direct contrast to the rest of my ensemble. It was the only feature that seemed out of place, and I could see the irritated faces reflected back at me as the many faces of the servants scowled up at it.

Suddenly, one of them spoke.

“A sash,” he said, and the other heads nod in unison.

Another of their number snapped his fingers and opened his hands, palms out. A circle of magical energy appeared, and from its center, a ribbon of crimson fabric snaked out and tumbled toward the ground,. Another pair of hands snatched the cloth, and quickly tied it around my waist.

The fabulous sash was a perfect match with my hat, and pulled the color from it enough that, in combination with the hues of the rest of my outfit, it suddenly looked like it belonged from the start. I drank it all in. It wasn’t ever day that you had a royal staff bedeck you in finery.

I look like a proper Adventurer.

Then, they were gone. The mirror was removed, the partition was disassembled, and the cluster of servants disappeared through the doorway of the throne room. In an instant, it was nearly empty in the chamber again, just me, Nox, the newly-christened commander Hyperion, Hawk Vallery, and the now snoozing King Zephyr. A mild snore escaped from the king, and his hands rested on his rotund stomach as unfinished plates of food sat cooling on the arms of the throne.

Hawk approached, looking me over with a serious eye. He must have had trouble finding anything wrong with my costume, because he sighed, and relaxed his shoulders, dropping into the emotionless expression I had come to expect.

Commander Hyperion had been finishing a baked good of some kind, the crumbs still clinging to the faint shadow of whiskers that had begun to crawl on his jaw during the long night. A little while beforehand, he’d received word that Heldrtown had gotten under control. Several Equites of Nightsign Aries had battled the blazes and the chaos and quelled the fervor. That had seemed to cause him to relax quite a bit, and I realized how tense he must have been the entire time, fighting the political politeness of the current situation with the royal family, while worrying about his people.

Now it seemed that since there had been a resolution, he could leave. He straightened up, nodding respectfully in a near bow to the Herald, and gave a cautious glance to the sleeping king in the throne.

“I’m not sure who to address in this situation,” he admitted, and I let out a chuckle.

“Oh, we are friends now, Chronos,” Nox admonished, ”just speak freely.”

The guardsmen nodded.

“I believe I will take my leave. It has been a long night,” he said, “but please give my sincerest thanks to His Majesty, King Zephyr, for my promotion. I’ll do him proud.”

Nox nodded.

“Don’t be a stranger, Commander Hyperion,” he said waving.

“You as well, Your Highness,” Chronos said, and turned to me.

“I wish you well, Hutch,” he said, “if you find yourself in Heldrtown ever again, know that you’ve got a friend in Cap-uh, well, Commander Chronos Hyperion of the Watch.”

I chuckled.

“What an interesting night we’ve had, eh?” I mused.

Hyperion nodded.

“Take care of yourself,” I said, and the commander turned, and marched out of the room.

As he left, another figure entered the throne room, passing him in the doorway, and the two nodded to one another, though it was a stiff motion. The bespectacled Sir Garth strode down the ruby carpet, towards us, his expression unreadable. He didn’t have his telltale smirk, so I assumed he must not be in the best of spirits.

“Ah, I see you’ve finally found your way back to us, Master Dahlia,” the Herald said to him, but Garth was not inclined to return the greeting. He stopped when he was within a dozen feet of us, and stood straight, at attention.

“What are your orders, Lord Herald?”

Hawk withdrew a folded piece of parchment from his robes, and handed it to the green haired man. Garth accepted it, then he unfolded it and began reading its contents. His countenance grew more and more grim as he did, and when he finished, he looked back up to the Herald.

“You’re sure, Lord Herald?” he asked.

“Quite,” Hawk said.

What could that notice possibly contain?

“Now,” the Herald said, turning to me and clasping his hands together, “let’s take you to see your father.”

----

As I stood in front of the dark passageway, I was nervous.

We’d arrived back in the Receiving Hall, and it was very much changed. No longer cleared for the access of many at once, it was now filled with an arrangement of statues and potted plants that split the area into neat rows. Stone likenesses of royalty and nobles from the past were intermixed with the leafy stalks of the palm bush, the flowery tines of the ifrit cactus, and the blooming multicolored bells of the Cygnus Poppy. Servants and staff filtered in occasionally through the passageways on the length sides of the hall, each corridor leading to a different section of the castle all together.

We now stood in the back, in front of the passage beneath the Libra Nightsign. The symbols weren’t glowing now, but I noticed that different colored banners had been hung over the arch of each entrance, the symbol of the Nightsigns were emblazoned in white over each specific access point. It seemed as though it had been done this way to discourage anyone from mistaking it for a normal corridor, as the banners climbed all the way down, parting the entrance in twain and ending six inches from the marble floor.

The weighing scales and coiled serpent of Libra was pressed into the blue field of a shimmering fabric, and it made me feel like an imposter. I hadn’t earned this, but the king had made a special exception for me because of my family-- a family that seemed to be more popular than I’d ever realized. I had to wonder why Father had chosen never to reveal our esteem before. I was befuddled.

When even kings show respect to a lineage, it has to mean something. What great feat did Cassander Carthage perform?

“Hutch?”

I looked over my shoulder. The Herald stood behind me, as did Nox and Sir Garth Dahlia, all of their eyes were watching me, waiting for me to make a move. Nox smiled.

“It’s now or never,” he said, and I nodded. I turned back to the passageway, swallowed the lump in my throat, and stepped forward into the darkness.

I felt along the walls as I moved, as it was so dark I knew I was in danger of tripping or falling if I wasn’t careful. Behind me, I could hear the quiet plod of several sets of boots as my three companions shadowed my footsteps in the pitch black. No one spoke, and it unnerved me. I was afraid to ask questions, lest some powerful magic strike me mute. I didn’t know what the protocol was on speaking, and was cautious about doing so, especially if the others were so silent.

“Sure is dark,” I heard Nox say suddenly, and I braced for the backlash that I wouldn’t be able to see coming.

But nothing happened.

“These passages can only be lit by the Harbinger Arch, Highness,” I heard Hawk explain, “and so unfortunately, because Hutch has not received its express permission, we will have to make a large portion of this journey in darkness.”

I could hear a sense of irritation in his voice as he spoke.

“Couldn’t we have brought a lantern, perhaps,” Nox asked, “or a torch?”

“The magic that inhabits these passages makes that impossible, Your Highness,” Hawk responded, “no light, magical or otherwise can hold purchase in these corridors.”

“That seems inconvenient,” Nox said.

“The First Lords put many safeguards in place to protect themselves, Highness,” Hawk said, “some of them merely inconvenient. Others, deadly.”

Deadly?

I had the sudden image of falling through a false floor, or running into a pit of spikes, and recoiled.

What if these walls began crumbling, and the whole passage collapsed on top of us?

“Yet all of the safeguards in the world couldn’t stop Adonis from defeating them,” Nox said, and I could hear the pride in his voice. Having such a storied history for your family must have made it easy to feel confident.

“It would appear so, Highness,” Hawk said, but his tone left me thinking that he was doubtful.

“Are you still there, Carthage?” Garth’s voice boomed, catching my by surprise.

“Er, yeah,” I admitted meekly, “just trying to move carefully.”

“Yeah, Garth, you heard the Herald, there’s protective measures,” Nox admonished, “Hutch is just making sure we don’t get our heads sliced off by a pendulum blade.”

Garth chuckled.

“Yes, do keep us informed up there,” he said, “if I hear a sudden yelp, I’ll be sure to duck.”

Hilarious.

I kept moving, my fingers brushing lightly against the wall, and before long, found the end to this main path and another passage to our right. I let the others know, and slowly crept along again.

It took ages to traverse the darkness, but after a few more twists in the path, we reached an absolute end. The path just stopped, without any other exits.

“I think we’ve come to a dead end,” I ventured, feeling around for perhaps a hidden alcove or hole.

“Ah,” the Herald said, “we must be at the door. Hutch, directly in front of you should be an iron ring, if you grasp that and pull, you should be able to wrest the next path in our journey.”

I nodded, even though he couldn’t see, and began tracing my fingers over every contour in the wall ahead of me that I could until I found it: a roughly forged ring of metal. It was fastened in some way to the stone, and I found that I could lift the heavy circle without worrying if it was going to crash to the ground. I grasped it firmly, and pulled.

A terrific grinding noise met me as I yanked on the ring, and I was forced to apply more strength as I realized how heavy the door must have been. Slowly, I could feel the wall in front of me give way, as the loud scrape of the bottom section slid across the stone floor. As I did, I could see light. Appearing in a square, I had to close my eyes, as my eyes had adjusted to being in the dark and the tiny sliver of light was painful. I kept my eyes shut tight and continued to pull until the door wouldn’t move anymore.

Carefully, I opened my eyes.

Another stone corridor was on the other side, lit dimly by torchlight. The sconces were spaced at large intervals, only four that I could see before the hallway took a sharp turn down. I could see the beginning of a staircase at the far end. I looked back at the others.

“Wow!” Nox exclaimed, stepping forward, “I’ve never been here before. This looks like a proper dungeon, though!”

I smiled, some of the tension having eased now that we had a light source. The Herald was squinting into the passageway, the light seemed to hurt his eyes as well.

“Shall we?” he asked, motioning down the corridor.

I nodded.

We moved together down the length of the hallway, and then took the stairs down into another dim hallway. This one was shorter, and only one torch burned here, it led to another set of stairs, these ones spiraled, and we followed these for a time, curling into the dim, following the scant illumination from the occasional torch. I was reminded all the while of the dwarvenkind fortress that Father and I had explored a year ago, and the chain of events that led to my current situation.

When we reached the bottom, I was disappointed to see another featureless hallway, but noticed that this one, rather than ending in another staircase, was affixed with a door at the far end. It was made of stone, and carved into its surface were the serpentine scales of Libra.

“This is it,” Hawk said.

“Finally,” Garth said, shaking his head, “I thought we’d be bumbling around the castle’s lower reaches forever.” I ignored him, and approached the door.

This door had iron rings as well, and after a nod of confirmation from the Herald, I tugged on one. This door was a lot easier to open than the first one, and as I pulled, the door bisected, and I was met by the glorious sight within.

It was a huge chamber crafted from solid stone. It stretched a hundred feet ahead, and the ceiling was forty feet above. The cobblestoned floor was bare for twenty feet ahead of me, and then the remainder of the chamber dipped down into a recessed section, where beyond I could see a roaring hearth, and dozens of pieces of furniture. There were comfortable leather couches and chairs, stools, several tables, and the back of the chamber was occupied on one side by a finely-polished wooden countertop. A myriad of different glass bottles rested on top of it, each with varying amounts of liquid in them. It looked to me like the inside of a tavern, which shocked and delighted me.

All along the walls were various bits of vegetation pushing their way out from the stone. There were many sections of wall where vines snaking down and piling on the floor beneath, while moss and flowers poked out of other corners. The whole place smelled a bit like a forest, and it instantly reminded me of the Berrywood.

I could see two large doorways, each on one side of the polished counter, and both were lit by torches. Inside one of them, I couldn’t be sure, but I thought that perhaps I could see water rushing down.

A waterfall?

I took a few tentative steps forward.

“My word…” I said, taking it all in.

“This is outstanding!” Nox exclaimed, and immediately moved toward the recessed quarters below, but he stopped suddenly, staring out at the right-most doorway. A figure was emerging.

Their gait was smooth and confident, I noticed that first. They moved from the passage and I was able to see her more fully now that they were bathed in the light of the blazing hearth.

She was a tall woman, with shortly-cropped, blonde hair and pale blue eyes. She wore light, leather armor, with one pauldron, over a beige tunic. A network of belts and buckles criss crossed her torso, and on her hip was fastened an empty sword sheath. I didn’t see the weapon on her person, but the carrier seemed thin, like one of the fencing sabres I’d seen in fighting competitions. Her expression seemed amused, but there was a seriousness beneath it. She was someone of authority, and no one in the chamber seemed to affect her demeanor.

“Greetings,” she said, striding forward and crossing her arms, “and welcome to the Nightsign Libra sanctuary at Gossamer Castle.”

I raised my hand.

“Hello,” I said, “I am Hutch Carthage, of the Berryw--”

“Yes, I was told you’d be arriving,” she interjected, “I must say, the situation is quite unusual. You must have surely dazzled the king to have been offered such an auspicious opportunity.”

“Yes, well, I didn’t real-”

“I don’t care for the actual particulars, Hutch Carthage,” she said, cutting me off again, “I only care that you don’t embarrass me or my men. Your father has already proven himself a capable member. I trust that you will impress me as much as he has?”

I didn’t say anything. I didn’t think I could answer that question honestly. Father was a remarkable man, and I’d often worried that I would never be able to live up to his potential. I opened my mouth to respond finally, but Nox interrupted.

“Hutch is amazing!” He exclaimed, “he took on a Giant, with little help from anyone else! You just wait, he’ll prove himself worthy of your stupid esteem, and do it again and again.”

I shrunk back. As much as I appreciated Nox’s assessment of my capabilities, it felt a little weak to have to be defended by a ten year old.

But he is a prince…

“That’s enough out of you, little Nox,” the woman said, her brows lowering, “I’m not sure why you’re even here. You know as well as I do that I don’t care who vouches for a candidate, I only want to see if they have ability. Words are wind.”

Nox made an irritated sound, and slumped, crossing his arms.

Another person speaking to royalty as if they were little more than pesky peons.

But the woman looked back at me, her eyes traveling up and down my form, gauging me, I could tell, in a calculated way. Finally she nodded.

“Right. Hutch Carthage, are you prepared to take up the mantle of the Nightsign Libra? To carry with it all of the burdens of the realm? To do what is asked of you and hold up the ideals of the Kingdom of Cygnus, and the Lapis Province?”

I nodded.

“Yes,” I said solemnly.

“Good,” she said, “but this is just the first part. You must prove your worth in the Challenges before you can wear the azure tabard. Are you prepared that you might fail and be dismissed?”

I nodded. I’d already been dismissed once before, being dismissed again would likely make me feel less like an imposter.

“Yes,” I said again.

“Good,” she said again, “I grade severely. I am known as shrewd and quite harsh in my judgement the kingdom over, as my little brother will attest to.”

Little brother? Oh, no, not this again.

“Yeah, she is kind of mean,” Nox confirmed.

Seriously? Another royal? It was almost cliche at this point.

“I am Commander Luciferi Zephyr, leader of Nightsign Libra,” she said, “follow me.”