Chapter 2: A Grand Occasion

“Ah!” uttered the man known as Pallio, as he noticed Arbel and his friends arrive at the Audience chamber. He turned back towards the crowds of people who stood beside rows of tables; all of them holding glasses in their hands, turning towards the entrance of the hall. “I present to you, the heir and future King of LeQuill; Arbel Kerth!” A horde of applause struck up from the large groups of nobles dotted around the Audience Chamber. His nervousness had ensued below his calm demeanour, but it had refrained from surfacing. After all, his most trusted friends had joined him in his bid to become the King of this Kingdom.

He expressed a response to those who had gathered to celebrate his ascension to the throne of LeQuill with a gentle wave, as he approached the throne that sat towards the end of the chamber. As always, his faithful friends followed behind him, as they approached a priest, who stood before the throne, facing the three friends. In his hand, he held a crown befitting of someone of royal standing, while in the other, a staff was held, which was adorned with glistening golden tags. An orb stood within a twisted frame, upon the top of the staff, while the base of the staff was clearly made of a blue hued metal

The three friends arrived before the priest, as they all bowed before him, in respect. “Rise, O’ Royal Highness, for this shall be the final time thou shall bow before anyone,” began the priest, as he passed his staff to one of the guards who stood by the throne. “By taking upon thyself this crown, you pledge to become the King of LeQuill; the mighty Kingdom of Heavens. You pledge to protect its citizens with your courage and wisdom, and to lead them through the hardships of life.”

“That I do, Your Holiness,” replied Arbel, as he stood before the priest. With that response, the priest lifted the crown before the people in the Audience Chamber. “My Lords and Ladys of LeQuill; upon placing this crown upon His Highness’ head, the dawn of a new Era shall come to fruition. With your regal positions, you are given the honour of aiding His Highness through hard times with your Council.” With the words given of the priest, the crown he did place upon Arbel’s head. Cries of celebration could be heard, even from the outside, as the people of LeQuill began to hear the news of the coronation.

However, there were those of lesser liking for such happenings... as a bolt flew through the air of the Audience Chamber. With swift movements, both Loki and Karen swung their weapons before the bolt they had heard through the uproar of celebration; the bolt striking upon the blades they drew, and shattering, upon impact. “Seize him!” exclaimed a guard, pointing out a man stood in the crowd of noblemen. The man swiftly turned to make his escape, but was met with severe resistance. His plot thwarted, and his freedom compromised, the guards stood within the Audience Chamber soon apprehended the attempted assassin.

“Speak, knave! Lest you be cut down!” exclaimed one of the guards, as he brandished his blade towards the assassin’s throat. “Your accomplice stands before you; Lord Averno of Celest holds my bow as much as I do,” said the obviously inexperienced assassin.

“It be lies, I tell you! This man, I have never seen, before!” exclaimed the Lord, as he stormed towards the exit, hoping to escape, as he uttered sheer nonsense; only to be held by Loki and Karen by blade point. “You will not leave,” began Karen, “For you have shown with your actions that you are a guilty man.”

“Cease your action, guards! Detain them, rather than slay them!” exclaimed Arbel, as he stood forth. “I would like to speak with them myself, before any action is taken upon their sentencing.”

“But Your Highness!” began a nobleman, “They have shed their skin and shown their true intent to the throne! Men of such action need not dishonour the Kingdom, lest it invite others to do such action!” Arbel looked towards the nobleman who had stood forward. His points were valid, but Arbel did not want death to stain the day he took to the throne.

“With all due respect, as the King of LeQuill, I do not wish to stain the land in blood, with my appointment in position. Guards; please take these men to the dungeon and imprison them; rest assured, action shall be taken upon this act of heresy,” ordered Arbel, as the guards acknowledged the wish of their new King. “Very well, Your Highness; but please take heed of Lord Aire. I say this only because I wish not for another assassination attempt to be made.”

Very well, then; I shall take heed of the opinions expressed by my people. Thank you for your concern,” answered Arbel, as the guards bowed, before leaving; the heretics in tow toward the dungeons below.

“Karen. Loki. Thank you for your action,” said Arbel, as both Karen and Loki approached him. “Hey; regardless of where you stand, you’ll remain a friend to us,” said Loki, with Karen nodding towards him in agreement. “We’ll have your back throughout your life, Arbel. Don’t ever forget that.”

‘To think such an act would befall my becoming King... was it the right thing to do; to take up a position as high as King, from being a man simply living in a small village?’ Arbel’s thoughts severely concerned him, as the fearful crowd soon began to die back into the celebrating gossip of before.