- Messages
- 23
A day after the battle on Cortosi Coast, the Paladin, Nathaniel Jameson made his return to the merchant city, having been victorious in destroying his old enemy, Zasz. It had only been a week since he had seen his old childhood home, but it felt like longer after the recent events.
The place in question was called Angelis Keep, and it was a private estate belonging to the Jameson clan. Although they were officially lesser nobility and were technically counted among the gentry, they were well off due to the wealth of his mother's family and it showed. Though it was called a keep, it was intended to be a refuge and a family home first and foremost. An outer man-made meadow stood out in the front before its two-story walls, with all kinds of flowers and many different trees.
The walls were constructed from the same white-washed stone that made up the rest of the city, arranged symmetrically with a set of enormous double doors that marked the entrance. They were built from oak wood and carved with the symbol of the family heraldry: A golden lion sitting atop a fleur-de-lis on a red field, not dissimilar to the heraldry on Nathan's armor.
"My childhood home." Nathan said coolly. "Though I spent little time here. I much preferred to explore; see the world."
He closed his eyes momentarily and a flood of memories came racing back into his mind. He spent many days in the training courtyard in the back, learning the art of fencing. In the library, he spent countless hours poring over ancient texts and reading famous works, both fiction and textbook, learning of the epics and heroes of old. When he reopened his eyes, he walked forward confidently and stopped before the doors, pausing just long enough to make sure his companion was close behind.
Just as he reached out to grab the knocker, he paused as he heard the familiar sound of the many locks coming undone. After a moment, the doors parted and opened and behind them he beheld a familiar sight. That being Marshal Gauthier, a serjeant and the unofficial head of the men-at-arms sworn to the Jameson family. He was an old friend of Nathan's father and the unofficial caretaker of Angelis Keep when he was away. Though not an official member of the Freedom Fighters, Nathan valued his company and his advice. In the past he had proven to be sensible, reliable and down-to-earth. Those same traits were what made him an excellent advisor (in Nathan's opinion), as well as the fact he was honest, almost perhaps to a fault.
An older man even when Nathan was a youth, his once-golden hair had long ago turned to silver and his hairline receded, though the Paladin noted with some humor that he kept his long mustachio well maintained. Today he had chosen to wear a pale yellow tunic and rich blue trousers, topped off with thick leather boots. There was a gentle smile on his weathered face that made his features to light up, especially his grey eyes.
"Welcome home, Master Nathan." He said in his high, clear voice as he stretched out his right hand. "It warms my old bones to see you safe."
"And I am glad to see you as well, old friend." Nathan replied as he took it gladly. They shook firmly and Nathan noted the old guard's grip was still as strong as ever. "It's been too long."
"It has. I trust your mission was a success?"
"It was." Nathan replied, nodding. He knew Marshal would not pry.
"I am glad to hear it." Marshal turned his head slightly at the sight of her. "And I see you have not returned alone."
A grin appeared on his face and for a moment, Nathan mused that an old soldier, the man he had looked up to as a family friend and the closest thing he had to an uncle, revert to the emotional maturity of a teenage boy.
"A lovely lady on your arm? Your father would approve, were he still alive." There was a hint of sadness to his warm tone and he inclined his head slightly. "Gods rest his soul."
Nathan laughed a little, clearly embarassed. "Not quite, old friend. But she is a guest. So, if you would, please prepare the kitchen, as I have an arrangement with this fine young woman."
Marshal nodded, his grin widening. "As you wish."
______________________________________________
"Mighty Celestial Gods." Maximus, Nathan's apprentice intoned. He was in his usual spot in the chapel, prostrated before the altar with his hands outstretched towards the stained glass windows. He hoped that if he did this enough, the gods might hear his supplications and finally grant his request and finally allow him access to some hidden magical power. Thus far they had not answered his request, but he kept his vigil. If what Nathan told him was correct, he simply did not experience the right moment to access that power - that it all was part of some grand, divine plan.
It shamed him to admit it, even to himself, but Max felt the slightest twinge of doubt about whether or not he would ever attain any real power. He had no doubt the Gods existed; the War God Himself had chosen Nathan as His Voice, but whether they truly cared about the rest of the world outside their little chosen circle was another matter.
"Please, cast your blessings upon me. Lend me strength. Nykios, you give your blessings to my Master. Please, I beseech you, do the same for me."
As with a thousand times before, the figure depicted in the stained glass did not reply, nor did He make any move or sign and Max sighed.
"Max?"
He turned at the sound and beheld Marshal standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Marshal?" said Max, turning fully and rising to his feet.
"Apologies for interrupting your prayers, but you might want to know, Master Nathan has returned."
Max felt his spirit lift in joy. Mayhap, there was some divine intervention after all.
The place in question was called Angelis Keep, and it was a private estate belonging to the Jameson clan. Although they were officially lesser nobility and were technically counted among the gentry, they were well off due to the wealth of his mother's family and it showed. Though it was called a keep, it was intended to be a refuge and a family home first and foremost. An outer man-made meadow stood out in the front before its two-story walls, with all kinds of flowers and many different trees.
The walls were constructed from the same white-washed stone that made up the rest of the city, arranged symmetrically with a set of enormous double doors that marked the entrance. They were built from oak wood and carved with the symbol of the family heraldry: A golden lion sitting atop a fleur-de-lis on a red field, not dissimilar to the heraldry on Nathan's armor.
"My childhood home." Nathan said coolly. "Though I spent little time here. I much preferred to explore; see the world."
He closed his eyes momentarily and a flood of memories came racing back into his mind. He spent many days in the training courtyard in the back, learning the art of fencing. In the library, he spent countless hours poring over ancient texts and reading famous works, both fiction and textbook, learning of the epics and heroes of old. When he reopened his eyes, he walked forward confidently and stopped before the doors, pausing just long enough to make sure his companion was close behind.
Just as he reached out to grab the knocker, he paused as he heard the familiar sound of the many locks coming undone. After a moment, the doors parted and opened and behind them he beheld a familiar sight. That being Marshal Gauthier, a serjeant and the unofficial head of the men-at-arms sworn to the Jameson family. He was an old friend of Nathan's father and the unofficial caretaker of Angelis Keep when he was away. Though not an official member of the Freedom Fighters, Nathan valued his company and his advice. In the past he had proven to be sensible, reliable and down-to-earth. Those same traits were what made him an excellent advisor (in Nathan's opinion), as well as the fact he was honest, almost perhaps to a fault.
An older man even when Nathan was a youth, his once-golden hair had long ago turned to silver and his hairline receded, though the Paladin noted with some humor that he kept his long mustachio well maintained. Today he had chosen to wear a pale yellow tunic and rich blue trousers, topped off with thick leather boots. There was a gentle smile on his weathered face that made his features to light up, especially his grey eyes.
"Welcome home, Master Nathan." He said in his high, clear voice as he stretched out his right hand. "It warms my old bones to see you safe."
"And I am glad to see you as well, old friend." Nathan replied as he took it gladly. They shook firmly and Nathan noted the old guard's grip was still as strong as ever. "It's been too long."
"It has. I trust your mission was a success?"
"It was." Nathan replied, nodding. He knew Marshal would not pry.
"I am glad to hear it." Marshal turned his head slightly at the sight of her. "And I see you have not returned alone."
A grin appeared on his face and for a moment, Nathan mused that an old soldier, the man he had looked up to as a family friend and the closest thing he had to an uncle, revert to the emotional maturity of a teenage boy.
"A lovely lady on your arm? Your father would approve, were he still alive." There was a hint of sadness to his warm tone and he inclined his head slightly. "Gods rest his soul."
Nathan laughed a little, clearly embarassed. "Not quite, old friend. But she is a guest. So, if you would, please prepare the kitchen, as I have an arrangement with this fine young woman."
Marshal nodded, his grin widening. "As you wish."
______________________________________________
"Mighty Celestial Gods." Maximus, Nathan's apprentice intoned. He was in his usual spot in the chapel, prostrated before the altar with his hands outstretched towards the stained glass windows. He hoped that if he did this enough, the gods might hear his supplications and finally grant his request and finally allow him access to some hidden magical power. Thus far they had not answered his request, but he kept his vigil. If what Nathan told him was correct, he simply did not experience the right moment to access that power - that it all was part of some grand, divine plan.
It shamed him to admit it, even to himself, but Max felt the slightest twinge of doubt about whether or not he would ever attain any real power. He had no doubt the Gods existed; the War God Himself had chosen Nathan as His Voice, but whether they truly cared about the rest of the world outside their little chosen circle was another matter.
"Please, cast your blessings upon me. Lend me strength. Nykios, you give your blessings to my Master. Please, I beseech you, do the same for me."
As with a thousand times before, the figure depicted in the stained glass did not reply, nor did He make any move or sign and Max sighed.
"Max?"
He turned at the sound and beheld Marshal standing in the doorway.
"Yes, Marshal?" said Max, turning fully and rising to his feet.
"Apologies for interrupting your prayers, but you might want to know, Master Nathan has returned."
Max felt his spirit lift in joy. Mayhap, there was some divine intervention after all.