Restart Again: Volume 2 by Adam Scott (best adventure books to read .TXT) 📗

the construction of the hall; enormous stone bricked pillars rose up to a ceiling so high it disappeared in shadow, and the floor was lined with lush carpets and beautiful plants. The floral notes combined with the smell of burning incense and burning torches to create a heavy, cloying bouquet.

Lia and I followed Savitz forward towards a row of plants and turned past one of the stone pillars. There was an awestruck gasp from Lia, and my breath caught in my throat as I finally learned what various incarnations of the Yorian crest I had seen were based on. Before us stood a raised dais with a massive, ornate throne. The chair itself stood almost ten feet tall and gleamed with a polished gold shine in the sunlight. An intricately detailed crescent moon was held above the seat with golden rods, and the entire seat was upholstered in a cushioned cerulean fabric.

Though it was by far the most lavish throne I had ever seen, I hardly noticed it in comparison to the stained-glass window on the wall behind it. An enormous circle at least four stories in diameter, it sparkled in the morning sunlight in a display of craftsmanship so beautiful I could hardly believe my eyes. It depicted a dark blue sky speckled with stars and a golden crescent moon in the center. The window was so large it lit the entire front half of the throne room, glowing with such intensity that it seemed to make the sunlight behind it even brighter.

Savitz led us to a position roughly ten feet from the edge of the dais, then stepped aside. I took a quick glance around the room and was surprised to find the chamber empty. Where are you hiding? Curious, I scanned outward with a wave of detection magic. The energy rushed up and over the dais and continued to the back wall, where I found two doors blocked from my line of sight by the raised platform.

One door led to what seemed to be a simple barracks. The walls were lined with armor stands and weapon racks, while the middle of the room was crammed with long benches covered in steins and scraps of food. I counted twenty men milling about within the room, all dressed in finely crafted plate armor and flowing cloaks. Another door at the back of the room led to a tightly curled flight of stairs heading in both directions, spiraling up and down out of range of my vision. While the bulk of the armored men looked to be engaged in casual conversation with one another, one man stood alone with his ear to the door and an intent look of focus on his face.

The second door behind the dais led to a council chamber with a large oval table surrounded by posh, high-backed chairs. It was less populated than the barracks, but I knew in an instant that the people inside were to be my judges. A young man sat at the head of the table, dressed in elegantly ornamented robes with an intricate crown of woven gold on his head. He leaned back against his chair with his feet kicked up on the table, clearly bored by the small council around him.

Three men in simple habits stood at his sides in close proximity, all animated to different degrees of worry and distress. The man close on his right wrung his hands nervously as he spoke, and the other two watched the face of the apparent ruler with great anticipation. Although I couldn’t hear anything that was said, the constant fervent gestures towards the throne room indicated that I was most likely the topic of conversation.

I relished the opportunity to gain the upper hand in the coming encounter, and watched the rest of the secret conversation carefully. After a long series of eye rolls and dismissive hand gestures, the young man stood from his chair and moved to the door where he addressed two soldiers standing guard. One bowed deeply before he left the room, crossed behind the dais before us, and entered the barracks. After a brief conversation, the soldiers filed out of the room and took up various positions around the dais.

My eyes opened slowly as I withdrew my extended mana and took a small step forward, partially shielding Lia with my body from the line of men before us. Even though I knew it would do little for her if it came to a fight, the gesture comforted me. The council chamber door opened again, and the stairs behind the dais squeaked as the advisors took their places next to the throne. The counselor who had been most active in their previous conversation, a short, rotund man with a long white beard, approached the front of the raised platform.

“You are now in the presence of His Royal Highness Virram Yorrell, King of Kaldan!” the man proclaimed in an airy, unsteady voice. Lia immediately dropped into an awkward kneel, but I stood unmoving. “Though you have committed great crimes against the people of Yoria, the King has shown the depths of his compassion by summoning you here for personal judgement.” I scoffed loudly, which drew harsh stares from the two seated councilors. The chamber door opened once more as the speaker took his seat beside the throne, and Virram Yorrell appeared from behind the dais, flanked by two guards.

The young king took his seat and scanned us quietly. The imposing size of the throne made him look like a child sitting in his father’s chair. He had light brown hair that flowed down past his shoulders and framed his thin, angled face. His skin was overly pale, almost sickly looking to my eyes, and clearly showed how often he left the keep to walk in the sun among the common folk. His dark brown eyes were cold and emotionless as they bounced back and forth between Lia and myself.

While he took his initial estimation of us, I finished my