Enatic Clans

The gátes is standing atop of me. I close my eyes, as I imagine that he is taking his sweet time - hoisting the sword with both of his hands pointing straight at me. To pour salt into one's wounds, he would laugh at me before he enjoys taking my life. Preparing to deliver the final blow as he plunges his blade into my heart.

"This is it, then?" I say it one last time, breathing quite deeply. I'm sorry Lady Anda.

I sigh as the air out of my lungs awaits. I count: one, two, three, four, and so on and so forth. I open my eyes in a slow fashion and herein, a hand extends before me. I stare at the gátes's face - baffled. He is not trying to kill me anymore! What in the Kigal is happening?

"Lord Aisla…" he smiles, as he takes the liberties to take my hand and helps me up back on my feet.

I'm entirely speechless before this occurrence, as another one of his mirage aids Clyden as well.

" Talbetter Avante O'Silverpelt de Alcanzantré, at your service, milord." he then genuflects before my presence, "... did I pass the test?" as he looks up to me.

Pass the test?!? If it's the other way around, based on my performance - I failed! I mean who I am to assess such a strong man when he is the one who whoops my ass!

"Uhm,..." I clear my throat where the phlegm definitely hangs inside on it, "Impressive as ever, Captain Talbetter…" regarding my best to somehow my appreciation to his skills.

"Talbetter is just fine, Marshal…"

"Ex-captain Talbetter…" as I insist to call him on his honorary - former or current.

"Talbetter…"

"Sir Talbetter?"

"Alright, fine. You can just call me that at least." he sighs, as he stands on his knees.

"But that 'below the belt' was over-the-top, you see? Sir Talbetter, I know you're just calibrating my skills as per duel-wise. You have resorted into an underhanded tactics that you wished to catch me off guard. Well, you did." I smile.

"I agree. I was too startled how Lord Aisla would be this cunning. Thus, I stooped so low to inflict you helpless. No, I am not an assassin. Nor came me to destroy from within." he answers.

"A voyage back to Alcanzantré, eh? Well, I'm sorry for inconvenience, Sir Talbetter. This is embargo diplomacy is truly hurting right now."

"Lord Aisla,..." as Clyden rises from a supine position into a sitting position, "I mean, no shit, this was not part of the deal. But at least, we are still alive. Hahaha…" senselessly, he dismisses the event like nothing happens.

"You get a trip to your family, we get your knowledge? It seems like a pretty good deal." I initiate the handshake this time, just displaying good faith - let bygones be bygones.

Talbetter picks something from his behind instead. Disregarding my proffered gesture. Well, that's rude. And that's for the second time. I then see a water pouch yanks into his hand.

"Well, we can drink to that…" he gulps the first sip, as he passes to me, "Mead, Marshal?" with his left eye perks up and his right eye squints.

"Sure…" my dignity and honor say: 'I will' but my body disagrees.

It doesn't hurt to taste liquor for the very least. Some would say that teetotalism but I see myself in moderation. Through wine is the first test of commitment, per se. Wine sharing is the ancient form to formalize an agreement but not as impactful as both or multiple parties performing a blood oath. Back to the moment at hand: First of all, he drank it first and he's still standing. Therefore, it's not poisoned. Common sense. Lastly, why not? I'm thirsty anyway. So, bottoms up!

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My lips kiss the bottle's mouth. My tongue then touches wet content, at the tip of my gustatory instrument - I taste: bitter, piquancy, epitaph of grimace, you name it; I hate it! Well, don't judge me about it. It's not like that I don't like wine, mead, lager, or whatsoever. Let's say I'm having some kind of 'transformation' - my reformation.

"Ah!~ It might be strong for me and the taste is very mature, actually. But so far it's not that bad." as I am attempting to regurgitate the content.

"By the gods! Lady Wellicia in the seven heavens! It tastes like a piss." my mind says otherwise, as I wipe my mouth, I pass the pouch back to him.

"Then, it's a deal…" he then gives the liquor to Clyden and I somehow manage to have his grace, "General, bottoms up!" he directs to Clyden.

"Cheers!" Clyden hoists the pouch on his hand, saying in a jaunty mood.

After the first gulp reaches on his throat, "Crap! What the hell did I drink? You both drank this, don't y'all? It tastes like a piss… !" he shares a mutual sentiment as mine.

"Hahaha… it is mixed with garum and fermented grapes." then really no wonder it reeks and tastes repulsive. Anyway…

"On the behalf of the army, welcome to the club, Sir Talbetter. I hope this partnership will be fruitful."

"Lord Aisla, I'm grateful for sheltering this good-for-nothing gátes… this feline man will do anything that he can." Sir Talbetter speaks with humility and in an illeist mood.

He adds, requesting: "Since the parlay went smoothly and had some warm up with you, I am free this morning. I suppose I can start as of right nyow." as per his demand, we can probably arrange for that. But first…

"How about you join us for breakfast, Sir Talbetter?" I invite him whereas Clyden agrees right away, giving me an 'OK' gesture on the sideline.

"Alcohol before breakfast? Well, you are speaking our language, General, Marshal!" Talbetter exclaims, as Clyden and I are leading the way to the pantry.

"'Our'? Alcanzantré's traditions, you say?" Clyden butts in, reconfirming the gátes's anecdote.

"Pretty much, yes. In the mornings, any liquor is our water after early exercises." he claims, walking with us side-by-side. Huh, did he really say that? Sounds ludicrous.

"I'm quite intrigued by it, honestly…"

"Yeah, I remember someone did like that during my time in the mainland. He maybe is your fellow clansmen or city folk from the very docks of Alcanzantré. I'm not so sure but, uh, what I can recall thus far." Clyden confirms such practice on the second account.

"Well, about that… when you comment about this swig…" Talbetter is referring to the liquor, as he dangles and shakes in his tail, "... have you tasted your own piss?" whereas the question directs Clyden.

Clyden stutters, replying: "W-w-what? No! It's, uh, just a figure of speech, you know?" and at the same time, he skips the rhythm of his cadence. Whereas Talbetter and I titter in response.

"It's still rude, though." I should have said this out loud, intervening doesn't help what he has stated so far.

"Anyway, what's that ability that you utilized to draw another version of yourself while fighting Lord Aisla and I concurrently?" he asks, as I notice Clyden wants to divert the conversation so hard. I, for one, am as well interested in Talbetter's mirage technique.

"Ah!~ That? General, Marshal,... that is my personal ability named [Espejo]... but [Espejo] itself has a series of child abilities down to third degree." Talbetter shares quite vaguely, his tail swings in a fleeting motion.

"" the general asks once again.

"Maybe, we can discuss that not much later - as per agreement, of course." the gátes insists.

"Agree. After breakfast, eh? With the army? There ain't no issue with that, Lord Aisla…" my lieutenant then assumes, as he ushers the door to the dining hall.

"I know Sir Talbetter and you, lieutenant, have kicked off the calisthenics a long time ago. You said that." I press towards General Clyden.

"That's for preemptive preparation, I would say." my lieutenant sasses back.

I exhale, responding: "Well, when you put it that way. I assess that would be true. Since studying is also part of training - the Verlessenes, the Royal Guards, and the Army must partake in this mental repertoire. Clyden, you got your orders." with the declaration at hand.

The general salutes, as I return the gesture. He then rushes to his lieutenants - Svetlana and who is that dude? I believe that is Clyden's another lieutenant… is that Andrada? Oh, right! How could I forget… ! Fine lad, long-haired like everyone else, equal built, fair skin. Of course, that lad would be 'him'. Maybe, I'm just having deliriums or some sort. I mean that kid changed significantly. He sported a skinned-head and was scrawny at that time. And now, he has become a man.

Clyden finishes passing the message, Subaltern Svetlana and Subaltern Andrada move out to perform their duties. Meanwhile, my lieutenant diligently escorts us again, "Marshal, apologize for the inconvenience." he salutes at me.

I salute back, appreciating: "None taken, General. Well, I guess we should eat before the breakfast goes cold." we then share a laughter.