Mark of the Fool C.833: Meet the Parents

“A Clan…Duncan…was it?” asked Lord von Anmut, his voice terribly strained. “I seem to be unfamiliar with such a family. Praytell, what is the, er, lineage of Clan Duncan?”

“Father,” Isolde hissed.

“I, erm, am simply curious about the large, baaaaarbari…” He paused as his daughter’s expression turned demonic. “Er, baarrr…barrel chested young man that my daughter seems to erm, have given a Stone of Four Elements to.”

“A man you never mentioned in your letters to us, darling daughter of oours,” Lady von Anmut emphasised through a perfectly forced smile. “Not once. At all. In any of your letters to your own mother! What a terribly strangeturn of events!”

Her laughter sounded like broken glass and murder.

Eyes from all around the chamber—Baelin had transported the graduating class and their guests back to the grand classroom—quickly looked away. All of a sudden, other conversations, other people, and even bits of dust on the floor seemed fascinating to the onlookers.

Cedric was beside Isolde—she was clutching his hand as if she’d be swept away by a tidal wave if she let go—with a forced smile and eyes that would have been at home on a deer facing a mob of rabid bears.

Isolde was feeling a mixture of terror, embarrassment, irritation and giddy joy so intoxicating, that she thought she would pass out.

The treacherous members of her cabal—the brave Alex, Thundar and Prince Khalik, who she distinctly remembered promising to aid fellow members of their cabal in times of crisis—were hiding with Alex's family.

They were in an area of the room that was conveniently near the front door.

Isolde would remember this.

She looked to her loyal, lovely bodyguards: Hogarth and Svenia, who had stood beside her against beasts, villains and monsters, they were now standing behind her parents, conversing with their personal guard.

They seemed absolutely intent on not meeting the young noblewoman’s gaze.

She would remember this too.

‘I should help the Ravener eat the lot of them,’ she thought darkly.

Isolde glanced at her grandfather as he stood a little apart from her parents, watching Cedric impassively. The old court wizard’s mask-like expression had fully taken over his face: she could not tell if he was simply assessing Cedric, approving of him, or planning his demise.

He had said not a single word so far.

“So yes!” Her mother stepped closer, dragging her daughter’s eyes back to her. “Your letters! They mentioned nothing about any…lovers! Nothing decent or indecent!” she hissed through a clenched smile. Her deadly eyes flicked to Cedric. “How long have you and my darling, precious daughter been…so close, young man?”

“Well, I did jus’…we jus’ came together…right now,” Cedric fumbled with the words, facing the twin beasts that were Isolde’s parents with the same dedication he faced the deadly Ravener-spawn of Thameland.

…and with a little more fear.

“Oh, my mistake!” Lady von Anmut let out another homicidal laugh. Several people—including the faculty—were quickly making their way toward the door. More folk joined them, and for a terrible moment, Isolde thought a stampede would start. Lady von Anmut looked back at her daughter. “Considering that you ripped the shirt off of a young man in the middle of your graduation, then allowed yourself to be hoisted into the air like a sack of old rags, and then shoved your tongue down his throat like a common—”

“There was no tongue!” Cedric and Isolde said as one.

They jumped, their hands clenching a little tighter.

“Oh, my mistake for not getting the facts right,” Lady von Anmut continued, with the same smile that was all ice and death. “I do believe I was fighting a fainting spell at that moment! I do wonder what might have brought it on? Yes, I am sure you are right when you say there was no tongue…but you say you two just met?”

“No, mother!” Isolde said quickly. “We did not just meet! We have known each other for a long time! We simply erm, made our courtship official at that moment.”

“Really? You only now became official?” her mother hissed. “That is so surprising to me, considering the passions you displayed, which are usually reserved for wedding nights!”

A throat cleared.

“And, er, how old is this Clan Duncan?” Lord von Anmut cut in.

“Er, our clan’s been in Thameland since b’fore Uldar got there,” Cedric said. “Dunno beyond that.”

Lord von Anmut brightened a bit. “Excellent, there is history there! Tell me, how much land exists in your family’s fief?”

“Father!” Isolde snapped. “Please stop it, you are embarrassing all of us!”

“Now, now,” he said gently. “I am simply trying to grasp what might be the path ahead, shall we say.” He smiled at Cedric. “There are things to consider, of course, when it comes to the union of, erm—”

“Land an’ property?” The Chosen’s eyebrow rose. “Like a clan chief considerin’ who t’marry his child off ta’?”

“Precisely!” Lord von Anmut clapped, smiling at his wife. “See, our daughter has not quite taken leave of her senses! This young man seems to have certain understandings!”

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“Father…you…are not…helping…” Isolde said through gritted teeth.

“No. You certainly are not.” Her mother sniffed. “So…” She looked at Cedric. “…do you always go about without a shirt, or do you only do so when you wish to grapple my daughter in public?”

Isolde made a strangling noise.

“Oh, I’s not one fer shirts, really,” Cedric said, flexing his muscles. “ I finds ‘em too constrainin’.”

“Oh my! Do you hear that, darling?” Lady von Anmut turned to her husband in mock delight. “He finds shirts too constraining! How wonderful!”

“If I might interrupt,” a deep voice cut through the public execution.

All eyes turned to Isolde’s grandfather. He looked at her with a piercing gaze. “Are you happy, granddaughter?”

“Absolutely,” she insisted.

“Wonderful,” the word was clipped. He turned to Lady von Anmut. “Daughter, do you wish for your child to be happy in life?”

“Of course I do!” Lady von Anmut said. “But she is so young, and I do not wish for her to be bewitched by a smile right out of a pirate romance novel and musculature that should belong on a god’s marble statue! Such things might drive all rational thought from her head!”

“Yes, indeed, wait what?” Lord von Anmut nodded, then frowned. His eyes lit up. “Oh, yes, I see what you mean! He reminds me of Lord Etienne from that book on your nightstand. I believe it was The Ravishing Adventure of Lady Cecilia by—”

“Husband.” Lady von Anmut’s voice was as strained as a strand of silk thread caught on the horns of a bull. “Perhaps we should end that there.”

“Why?” Lord von Anmut asked.

Silence fell on the group.

The court wizard sighed heavily. “You always did like them pretty, daughter.”

“Thank you!” Lord von Anmut said cheerily.

“Do not thank him, husband,” Isolde’s mother said mournfully.

“Father, please…” The younger noblewoman pinched the bridge of her nose. “Please, father. And mother. Just…please. If you continue speaking, I am positively sure that I will see the after-world before the day is done.”

“Exactly, stop embarrassing my granddaughter on the day of her graduation.” The court wizard looked at Isolde. “What are the precedents?”

“For a Chosen of Thameland?” The young noblewoman met her grandfather’s eyes. “I found at least seven within the archives of the capitol. I have names and dates.”

He nodded in approval. “They will not be necessary.” He looked at Cedric. “Young man, what is your intention for my granddaughter?”

“Er, precedent o’ what?” Cedric asked.

“Do not worry about that,” the old man said. “What are your intentions?”

“Um, I jus’wanna make ‘er happy,” Cedric said. “The thought o’ that makes m’heart sing.”

Isolde blushed.

The old man looked at him closely. “Alright, then. Let us all go somewhere and have a meal together to celebrate graduations and unions.”

“Father,” Lady von Anmut said. “I am unsure if…” She took one look at her daughter, then sighed. “Fine, let us go to dinner. And speak. In depth. I would like to learn more about this shirtless young man.”

“That sounds like a capital idea!” Lord von Anmut said. “You can tell us more of your rustic lifestyle, young man. I do enjoy stories of nature!”

Isolde glanced at Cedric. “I imagine you have to return to Thameland soon?”

“A-aye,” the Chosen said. “But I coulds spare a wee bit more time. But, ah, precedents?”

Isolde blushed. “I was looking up precedents for…unions…you know, perhaps later.”

“Precedents for marriage between Rhinean nobility and Heroes of Thameland!” Her father blurted out, snapping his fingers. “Now I understand!”

“Father!” Isolde’s face burned scarlet.

“Mar…marriage?” Cedric asked distantly.

“My granddaughter is much like myself, she prefers to plan for all possibilities,” the court wizard said. “Now come, let us get to know each other.”

Isolde—looking as though she wanted to crawl into her grave—joined her family and Cedric as they walked out of the chamber.

As they left, Alex looked at the other members of his cabal.

“Well,” he said. “That was something.”

“I’d almost call it the best thing that’s ever happened to me.” Thundar was grinning broadly. “I’m never gonna let her live it down.”

“Indeed,” Prince Khalik cheered. “I shall not let her live it down either.”

“Did you see the way she looked at you?” Theresa asked. “She might not let the three of you live at all.”

The three young men exchanged glances.

Their mouths spoke no words.

Their expressions might have filled an entire library.

Corks popped.

Ale and cider foamed, pouring into tankards.

A carefreeatmosphere filled the Roth Family Bakery as staff members carried an entire buffet feast into the eating areas to feed Alex’s family and friends. The bakery had closed early to host the special group of guests for the rest of the evening:

Alex’s family and friends.

“Congratulations, Alex!” Selina cheered.

“Congratulations!” Khalik shouted, holding a goblet of wine. Beside him sat Sinope, who had finished her duties in the grove and joined the others in celebration. Najyah was on his shoulder.

Thundar raised his tankard of cider with a smile.

Mr. and Mrs. Lu dabbed away tears.

Their sons gulped back ale.

Theresa held Alex’s hand with a dreamy smile, and Claygon clapped him on the shoulder.

Brutus nuzzled the archwizard’s back.

Only Isolde was absent, catching up with—and likely being interrogated by—her own family. The cabal planned to join her for their own celebration later, where—hopefully—she would spare their lives.

Just as Alex was thinking of ways to avoid potential death, a commotion came from the kitchen.

Troy was leading more staff into the eating area, bearing sheets of Alex’s mother’s cookies, a cauldron of his father’s stew…and a beautiful cake.

A magnificent cake.

It was a massive affair, with flawless cream coloured icing, topped with piped whipped cream that resembled a thick braid decorated with mounds of glazed fruit; a dessert large enough to satisfy the hungry crowd’s sweet tooth and—on the top—written in chocolate drizzle was, 'Congratulations on your graduation, Alex!’

“A little surprise for you, boss!” Troy called. “Hope you all leave room for some of it!”

“Oh I am so glad I came here,” Khalik said, licking his lips and rubbing his hands together.

“I’m not,” Mr. Lu clapped his hand to his belly. “Well, I am but my pants aren’t going to be.”

Laughter spread through the room.

As the cake, cookies and stew arrived, Alex tapped a spoon against a glass and rose from his chair.

Everyone went quiet, looking at him expectantly.

“Thank you all for being here today,” Alex began. “It's been a long journey to get here, and we're still not at the end of it yet. The Ravener lies ahead of us, and I don't know where the battle against it is going to take us. But, if there's anything I’ve learned from my time here in Generasi, it's that the world doesn't come to a standstill for anything. Not now and not ever. People have to keep moving and living, laughing and loving even if things are dark elsewhere. I got to experience the last three years, making good friends, and getting my degree, which’ll help me in my future. But now, it's time to complete a big responsibility, one that I, the other Heroes, and everyone in Thameland has to deal with.”

He lifted his glass. “I’d like to make it so that the people in our homeland will be able to have a life where they too can live, laugh, love, celebrate, and graduate without a care in the world. No more Ravener, no more swords hanging over their heads. No more waiting a hundred years for another disaster to fall on them. We’re nearly ready, and when we strike, we’re going to strike hard.”

Alex raised his glass higher, “So, I want to dedicate this toast to us, to Thameland, and to responsibilities: not the ones that’ve been shoved on us, but the ones that we choose!”

“Here here!” Kahlik called.

Glasses rose, clinking together.

And as everyone tucked into their feast, laughter and reminiscing flowed. Yet as the night went on, Alex’s inner cheer gave way to dread. His words were true: the time for the final battle against the Ravener was approaching, though no one knew when and how that would manifest.

But, they would learn soon enough.

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