At last, Isoloyia!
I could never find a more welcoming sight at that moment than it's tall towers of white stone gleaming in the sun, as pure and noble as a brilliant star.
Embedded high upon the mountainside, overlooking the city stretched out beneath it, stood the royal Vez-Dûn citadel and home of King Hyndralad de Gundalia.
As with all his structures, they represented his rule and character: cold, magnificent, dominating yet admirable and glorious.
That is according to the reports that have been told to me.
And only now have I had the chance to confirm or deny those rumors.
Though it mattered little to me, as long as I received my supplies.
When we put into port the steeds were unloaded and my company (which consisted of Meredith, my captain, two generals, four soldiers and my bodyguards) and I rode to the citadel, where we were escorted by the guards in their disciplined protocol through the wide halls to the throne room.
The interior boasted of opulence and grandeur though not ostentatiously; the architecture and décor was set in such a way that it appeared clean, economical and without extravagance. It was as if there was not a pretension to impress any one, but that this majesty came simply and effortlessly.
The throne room was the same: the marble shone almost as bright as the snow in the winter sun, and great pillars rose to the tall ceiling on either side.
A crimson carpet lead the way through the center of the chamber and up the stairs to the raised dais at the end of the hall.
Even I, in my finest Krespanian gown and royal apparel, felt small and inadequate in such a place.
But this was nothing compared to what I was about to face.
A lone, slender figure sat on the throne that was drawn out in an island in front of the dais and directly above the stairs that descended from it.
And somehow just seeing his rigid posture as straight as the back of his marble throne sent trembles through me.
It was all I could do to keep my walk steady and graceful, as we approached, for in that instant I knew the rumors to be true that told of him as being stern and unfriendly.
We halted some distance before the nine foot dais, and bowed in homage to the Vez-Dûn king of Isoloyia.
The light through the deep sapphire pane of the three large windows behind the throne reflected against the silver hair of King Hyndralad, and sent colorful designs playing across the floor by our feet.
I hoped my voice would not betray me.
“Greetings, I am Queen Emerald de Gavrillac of Krespania, your humble servant.”
He looked down at us without lowering his head and said, “As I, King Hyndralad de Gundalia, greet you.” with a deep and commanding voice that lingered in the wide hall.
“I presume you have come to collect your supplies from us.”
“If it pleases Your Majesty.”
The corner of his lips turned slightly in a wry smile. “And why should it please me?”
This took me aback, and I was at a loss for words. “I-I... apologize if it is an inconvenience to Your Majesty. It is only I am in desperation; my ships have been depleted of all food and ammunition. We cannot possibly assist my brother, the Emperor, against Palkaan with what we have. If there were any other way...”
Hyndralad was silent for a moment then rose slowly from his throne and circling around it, descended the stairs of the dais.
I did not realize how tall he really was until he drew near; he stood two heads taller than I, which I would calculate to be about six foot and seven inches.
He studied me with his autumn-golden eyes, as if I were transparent and he could read every detail of my life.
I had never had the trouble of feeling inferior, being in power as I am, except for this moment; I felt as if I were only a peasant under his overpowering gaze, nothing more than dirt on the floor.
He made me feel as though I did not belong there; As like a slave, I should cower before his magnificence.
I so feared those penetrating eyes that I begun to drop my own to the floor, but then halted.
Why should I cringe before him? He is no more superior, that I should lower my eyes in shame.
And what about my soldiers who are starving inside their wooden prisons?
I must be strong for their sake.
I raised my head and boldly met his gaze.
I would not be intimidated.
He drew back slightly, and lifted his chin higher.
“My countries resources will be exhausted if I supply your needs. I am sorry, but I cannot help!” He said sharply.
“If you will not help for the good of others, then do it for my ancestor Cedric's sake!” I quickly retorted.
My anger replaced the fear inside of me, and the words spilled from my lips.
“Have you so easily forgotten your friendship with him? The only human in whom you put your trust?”
“Cedric,” He said, thoughtfully. “I knew not that his descendants still remained on the throne.”
“Only my brother, Lennox, who governs Agmar, and I, over Krespania, exist at present.” I said, and continued. “There is also my uncle who-”
King Hyndralad waved his hand for silence.
"Yes... I can recognize a little of Cedric within you. Wyles."
A servant emerged from the shadows. “Supply the Krespanian armada with all that they request.”
I bowed deeply, relieved that he did not continue to resist.
“Thank you, Your Majesty. My kingdom shall endeavor to repay you for your assistance.”
“It is not necessary. If I state a need for something in the future, perhaps...but for now we shall leave it as a gift for Cedric's descendants.” He said, then withdrew the same way he came, as if a sign the conversation was over.
My party bowed our leave, and only when I was back aboard The Golden Dawn and safely within my cabin did I breath a sigh of relief.
-Emerald de Gavrillac
Queen of Krespania
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