MIDAS

Alma took a few steps forward, entering the circular room at the same time as Midas did. In midst the hall stood a wooden throne, candles lighting the room dimly, shining down from the holsters that were built into the walls, seperating slim windows from each other, the daylight hitting the wooden seat, forming the dark silhouette the bearded man bowed before, one of his knees placed on the rug leading up to his big stool. The boy followed, shortly looking over to Alma before crouching in front of the unkown man as well.

"Very well.." The man scanned the both of them, looking down in front of them, picking lightly on his red cloth, evenly covering his body. Thin golden strings marked his clothing, shining slightly in the light of the setting sun. Slowly, broadening his seat, his palms firmly grasping the end of the chairs armrests, he set his thin body onto the throne. 

Alma used the moment to pick his gift out of his robe's inner pocket, the red bag placed on his flat palm, as he reaches his hand out to the young man. "A gift, for you. Take it as a charm of good luck. This land of gold shall offer you a blessing in these hard times." Leaning his head on his knuckles, shifting to the side with his hip, he muttered. "Stand and give it to me." silently, Alma followed his order, his arm reaching further, until he reached his grasp for the gift. Upon unwrapping the sack, he held the golden figure between his fingers, admiring the glow of the gold, reflecting the candles shining behind him. 

"A fine figure; I like the fact you always think of my mood when we meet Alma." A slight grin appeared on the corner of his mouth, switching his eye's focus onto the bearded man as he took a few steps back again, resuming his crouched position. Midas did his best to breathe as quietly as possible, his hand holding onto his chest as he crouched. Softly feeling his heart pumping as his pupils were fixated onto the red garn of the carpet. 

"Why didn't you tell me you had brought a child onto the earth? No, it's not your child. It can't possibly be; look at his exposed skin. Burned, seemingly thirsting even more of the sun's rays. Who is he? A slave?" Turning to the boy while clearly sounding his words towards Alma next to him, his tone shifted. With every sentence or loud thought formed, he switched from intrigue to light disgust and afterwards mere pity. Midas didn't dare to raise his head, simply taking in the words he spoke indirectly to him and closing his eyes as his brows sharpened.

Alma held in for a while before returning to speak with slight caution. "The ride is ready; like I already stated, the transport of you will take place in secret. My men will take care of the details." 

"Your men? Thanks to your men. I get to flee from these unfaithful northeners; your men were the cause for all of this. Keep that in mind if you really want to place this task on them." He hissed as he got up, turning away from him to face the elongated windows, granting me a smeared view over the town. 

"I am aware—willing to make past mistakes even. Your doubt in my men and myself included is a scar I have to wear on my face. Resentment filled Alma's tone, the past weighing deeply on him as he sunk his head. 

"A promising start indeed—yet, regret does not feed the need for solutions just quite the way you like too. I am sure of Fort Hij'Shama's defense; do not get me wrong here.. but I still have this worry that the enemy may even overcome the steep walls of your fort." The steps he took sounded against the mud bricks of the room, the clacking nearing Alma, as he dared to glance upwards into the green eyes of the royal man, crouching down to him slightly.

Meeting his stern look, he laughed halfheartedly, stepping to the side to stand in front of the boy, looking down on him as he tried his best not to move any limb of his. "The right arm onto the floor, with the knuckles resting firmly on the floor—move it away from your chest! Who are you, a coward?" The boy quickly followed the teaching words of the man, feeling the distaste in his word for his lack of knowledge. 

"Ah, before we do leave. Ajan gave me word; the storm in the east is still raging. Even thunder has started to sound from the dust clouds that smear our vision on the temple.." He laid both of his hands on his abdomen, one on top of another, as he turned to Alma again. "Your brother headed out to the north; I can only wonder why one would want to do so." He threw a sly remark onto Alma as he headed through the door.

Midas was the first to fully stand, meeting Alma's lowered gaze as he silently went to hold open the door for the boy to pass. The both of them were not able to find any good word to describe the situation they were forced into as they watched the man get clothed in a slim white silk robe, his face covered in a bronze mask. Golden markings running along the sides of the metal; three round openings were pierced into the mask, lined up in the center of it. Without any word, the guards went over the cloth they covered the man in before returning to their usual position, possibly until a next command had arrived to them.

From the same door in the back they had entered the tower from, they left again, Alma and Midas quickly exchanging glances, before the boy opened the door. Met by dim, warped pathways, in which the setting sun couldn't reach its light into, giving the three of them a good opportunity to head out. Checking every possible direction, the boy led, to the man's displeasure he followed. Behind him was Alma, securing the back, double-checking any corner the boy may have missed. Both of the men were equipped with sabers if someone dared to approach the group.

Making great haste, the boy loosened the rope from the wooden fence, while Alma placed fresh cloth on the strapped leather for the man to seat himself on. Claiming the front, he held onto the rope, waiting for Midas to place himself behind the indirect royalty. The boy looked back, his gaze finding the same orange shimmer escape the bandage, which covered the driver. Before the ride had started to move, starting abruptly, shooking the boy back slightly. 

"So you still have trouble with your mana, I see—hilarious." The man was amused at Almas struggle, the boy silently sighing at the demeanor of the royalty. "Well, you never were a great supporter of those who used our suns shards for their own sake." The boy looked up towards the back of the man's head, his look becoming stern at his remark as it peaked the boy's interest. Interested to find the origin of the glow and the process behind the usage of these shards, he almost slipped to ask the unfamiliar man directly about his knowledge.

Silently, he viewed the silk robe around him, the air forming waves in the thin cloth, as it blew against the fine robe that protected the man from being hit by the last sunrays of the setting sun they left behind. On their way back to the fort, as the boy already was able to make out the blocky silhouette of the building in the distance. Enjoying the sweet smell of the royalty in front of him as the winds, carrying his fragrance, hit his face, howling against his skin, as the distance between them and the fort gates closed.