Imperial Capital.
Mehkri Estate.
Calvin Mehkri sighed as he knocked on the office door of his father.
He stared at the intricate designs and inscriptions of ancient letters on the door. Some looked like they were hanging off the door, and others were so small they were hard to detect.
This was a familiar door that he used to play around when he was younger.
Though this wasn't the door from the one in his childhood as they had long moved from Modella, however, his father was a sentimental type.
He preferred stability over rapid change, certainty rather than a gamble.
And because of this trait in his personality, he had asked the carpenters and artisans to build a similar door for him.
Regardless, the memory remained the same for Calvin.
Always disturbing his father whenever he found the chance to.
Calvin used to think that this door was his father's prison. A warrior by circumstances, but a scholar at heart.
"The man who used to rule with an iron fist now turns to the pen for commandeering." He muttered.
This was something Calvin had heard and had never experienced firsthand. To him, his father didn't seem much like the glory Ulha sang of in his past.
He sighed again.
He waited for about a minute, knowing that his father was probably busy reading something and wouldn't answer until he was done with the page he was on.
…
"Come in," Calvin heard his father say softly.
He turned the door handle and opened the door. The first thing that hit Calvin's nose was the strong scent of herbal tea that wafted through the office.
Mixed in with the smell of aged books and manuscripts.
Seated at the center of the room with glasses resting on his face, was Calvin's father—the Special Advisor to the King of Ulha, former Duke of Modella, Lord Hashton Drevhan Mehkri.
"Greetings father, I hope you're doing fine." Calvin bowed respectfully as he greeted.
"Calvin, what brings you home, or rather, to my study today?" Hashton only spared his son a soft glance, noticing the black uniform he was in, before returning his gaze to the thick book in his hands.
"The Chief Inspectorate of the Imperial Capital insisted on coming to see you to seek your advice."
"And so he dragged you along thinking his chances would be greater if he had you request an audience," Hashton said softly, pausing his hand on a passage in the book, before reaching out for a pen and underlining that passage.
He then dropped the book and removed his reading glasses to look at Calvin.
A small smile played on his lips. "You look unfed, have you been eating at all in the Inspectorate's office?"
Calvin sighed, he knew that his father wouldn't miss out on a chance to tease him.
"Father, I have added weight."
"Really?" Hashton got up and walked slowly towards Calvin.
Both father and son were well above the average adult height, but the latter surpassed his father a bit.
The two of them locked their gaze for a few seconds before Hashton placed a hand on his son's shoulder: "Let's see what your boss wants with me."
After that, he walked out of his office with Calvin walking behind him.
Right outside the door was an aged butler, dressed in black and white.
"Master Hashton, young lord Calvin." He bowed.
"Rise, Cornrey. The guest has already been settled in I suppose?"
"Yes, Master Hashton."
"Good. Lead the way."
…
Seated in a reception parlor, adorned with the simplest items of luxury and beige colored curtains, was a man who looked like he was in his late forties.
His shoulders were broad and strong, giving his upper body an intimidating posture.
The man's hair was cut short, standing only a few inches above his skin.
He too was in a black military-like uniform, however, unlike Calvin's own, this uniform was decorated with different colors of stitches that represented authority and rank in Ulha.
This was the Chief Inspectorate of the Imperial Capital.
Just when he began wondering how long he would have to wait before he could meet Calvin's father, his battle-hardened eyes darted to the side with trepidation hidden behind them.
He could sense a subtle, but terrifying aura approaching the door.
Before he could think of doing anything else, the door to the reception room opened up.
The Chief Inspectorate immediately shot to his feet and fell on one knee.
"This noble humbly greets the mane of the kingdom, Duke Mehkri!" He shouted at the top of his voice, startling Calvin who was yet to enter the room.
The young man frowned, a bit dumbfounded by this exaggerated greeting.
As for Cornrey and Duke Hashton, this didn't seem to faze them. Rather, it was normal to them.
Hashton chuckled and said; "Lord Baydar, I'm no longer the mane of the kingdom."
"Even if the title has been given to someone else, whoever believes otherwise is as blind as those who schemed behind your back," Baydar replied.
With a smile forming on his lips, he made his way towards a chair and sat down.
"Rise, Baydar. I'm not one too enthralled in the formalities amongst nobles anymore. Old age…life is deeper than that."
"Thank you, Milord." The Chief Inspectorate got on his feet.
"Take a seat."
"Thank you, sir."
It was at that point that Calvin walked behind the chair his father sat in and stood at attention, saluting his commander.
Seeing this, Baydar's expression twisted a bit, as he resisted the urge to chide this officer before his father.
Why are you saluting me from behind your father, are you trying to set me up?
He wondered and made a mental note to punish Calvin when they returned.
Nonetheless, he ignored the young man.
"What brings you here, Lord Baydar? Surely you didn't think to come say hello to this old man."
"My apologies, Duke Mehkri. I have been under pressure and unable to think straight. There's no one in the kingdom with a mind like yours, so I thought, who better to speak to if not you?"
"Flattering," Hashton's smile widened and he clapped his hands.
Not even a second later, maids walked into the room with trays in their hands, bringing cups and a kettle of herbal tea with them.
"Tea?" The Duke questioned.
"Yes please,"
"Good."
After a while of silence and hidden agitation from Baydar. When the Duke finally sipped the last of his tea, he spoke again.
"This should be about Agard, right?"
Baydar's brows furrowed as he nodded.
"The Royal Council insists that I do not involve myself or my men in the chaos of that state. However… We have long been entangled with Agard. And from what my informants have told me, the Priest Maney is planning on summoning a whole lot of Devilish Mutants and cultists from the Faceless Order."
"So your dilemma comes from your heart, your oath to duty. Honorable." Duke Hashton nodded lightly.
"I'm not that good of a person sir. But, I'm not the type to let cultists run rampant in the kingdom."
"I regret to inform you, in this particular case, Lord Baydar. You will have to look the other way."
The moment the Duke said these words, Baydar and Calvin were shocked.
"Why, Milord?"
"Because the King has his eyes on that place. He knows what's going on there and he is allowing it to happen. The interdimensional war isn't so far off, and the gates between worlds are thinning.
So sacrifices have to be made. Such is his Majesty's stance and opposing this will land you in straits similar to mine.
Also, Maney, powerful as he is, is just a candle trying to burn a mountain down.
He is only using the Faceless Order as an end to a means. And so is he to his Majesty.
Do you understand?"
Silence ensued once again, broken by the sound of Duke Hashton's cup being refilled.
After a while of brainstorming, Baydar spoke up. "I understand. Thank you, Duke Mehkri, for your guidance."
"There's no need to thank me. I haven't done much. If you hadn't approached me, I would have sent word to you at some point."
Baydar got up and bowed without a word.
"May I take my leave?"
"Sure, sure. I don't mind. Come again next time. And don't use this crybaby son of mine as the middleman again. Just come directly."
Calvin's brows twitched when he heard those words. He wanted to complain, but then again, he didn't want to show his commander that side of himself.
"Oh, Calvin, say hello to your mother before leaving. Lest she give me an earful of how little you've visited her these days."
"I will, father." The young man said as he followed behind Baydar.
When they left, Cornrey approached Hashton. "Master, things aren't as simple as that, are they?"
"Why, you're also curious?"
"Certainly. I'd imagine that the late Duke Sirdi's loyal followers would swarm to protect the land or at least the life of their lord's child. Just a few of them would be enough to solve the issue."
"True," Hashton said. "But that young lord, pitiful as he is, has long been abandoned by his family and father's men. Cursed by a powerful witch, it's a miracle that he's still alive."
"Why? Whom had he offended?"
"No one. His existence itself was the cause. It's only a matter of time before things start falling into place. The kingdom has been preparing for the opening for many years.
And even though I opposed many things, there are just some things that I'm too weak to oppose.
Such is the life of the weak."
Duke Hashton took a sip of his tea and faced the direction of Agard.