An Unabridged Memoir - Part 06

Part 6 – Trial, Tribulation, War

The later half of the attack was meant to be dramatic. At one point we were entrusted to bring all five apprehended ministers to the square just before the palace gate, where the other station member of the resistance had build a quick, make-shift stage for this very purpose. One by one, the ministers that were apprehended was brought into public, guarded by two – a human that was a member of the resistance, and the other, a member of Norath’s troop. The first minister attracted curious glances and whisper, while the second had the crowd gasping in awe and surprise. The third and the fourth made the crowd stood still, yet very restless, as they began to wonder what was happening. When Gregor Ivar, however, was brought onto the stage by Seth Frederich and I, the square roared and hateful words were hurled by the spectators whose anger began to pick up. I couldn’t help but to notice that satisfied smile on Seth Frederich’s lips, for we both know that the mission that was entrusted to us had ended, and it ended flawlessly. With a single assuring and firm pat on our shoulders, the grand scene slowly unfolds, as Lord Michael Parsat and Lord Ladir escorted Lady Freiya, who was decked in veil that hid her face from the world, onto the stage. The three’s charisma, including Lord Ladir who freely exposed his full identity by having his helm removed, blanketed the square, immediately brought the whole ground into a standstill, including the prisoners that seemed to greatly felt the tremendous pressure emitted by none other but the three.

“The traitor that he was, Michael Parsat, and he dared step back onto this ground, the holy capital of King Darius’ court.”

“I do not deny this, Ivar, for I am a traitor indeed; a traitor of you and Darius’ devious royal court, that is, but never this kingdom.”

“By bringing in a bunch of elves to attack the capital of your blood-ground? And yet you call yourself a loyal servant of this kingdom?”

By this, Lord Ladir obviously found Gregor Ivar’s words very offensive, “We the armies of Norath are here on a reconnaissance and mission as ordered by our new king, Admarith Noel, and we do not intent of destroying this kingdom.”

“Lies. All elves held grunge toward us humans.”

“It is a thing of the past, Gregor Ivar. We elves will always welcome you humans regardless of our past feud, even more so when our current king wished for peace between our races. Even if humans refuses to lay down their swords we elves will still hope for reconciliation.”

What strenuous atmosphere. I’ve never thought the strain between the two races to be this huge, this unbearably real. Lord Ladir, although he appeared somewhat calm, sounded somewhat concerned and nervous as he carried his king’s first and forever last wish to see peace between the two clans. Even from the stationery crowds I could feel some sort of tension. The humans, in such a way, still held some bitterness toward this minority race of this world despite Lord Ban being notoriously kind and famous in this society.

”What guaranty do you have that the elves won’t dwell in the past when they ask us to do the same?” asked Gregor Ivar, which gave start to the crowd’s restlessness. He smiled victoriously at us, especially at Lord Ladir, whose words came to a grounding halt as he studied the man for any sign of possible malice that could eventually flip the situation all around. The crowds were fickle thing to handle. A single word may gain their trust, while another might turn things into the less favoured direction. While they might listen to us foreigners’ words, they might also listen to Gregor Ivar’s.

“We are peaceful creatures, Gregor Ivar. We do not wish for war as much as you might never wish for it.”

Gregor Ivar smirked. ‘Oh really?’ was stated all over his face. The crowd’s murmur had grown louder. Things were heading down such uncertain path that we, the invaders, suddenly felt pressure weighing us down. This man, Gregor Ivar, was very cunning, I realized of then. Suddenly it occurred to me that his rise in the scene of the royal court, gaining trusts and power where he shouldn’t have, was the result of his wit, his cunningness. As much as an idiot he made himself into back then, when his head was alive, he will be a difficult man to deal with. How interesting, I thought, as I watched him from a side where he couldn’t have seen me. Seth Frederich who was standing next to me was sweating bullet, as he slowly came to realize the enormity of the pressure there was that might beget our fall, his eyebrow in such tight, intense knit that signifies troubled concern. Deep in me, I could feel something warm, something forceful trying to make its way to the surface, out of my skins, a force I never knew existed; an urge I had never felt in my entire life. An urge to be vocal, to be a part of this, to make a stand for that only father I have left…for Lord Ban, for the elves, for the humans, and for the sake of such distant peace…

And in the memory of my late father, my late mother, my siblings…

“Tragedy is a lot like the wheels…”

“I don’t suppose so, Gregor Ivar,” was what echoed first from the depth of my throat. In that intense moment I found all eyes, including those of Lady Freiya’s, was directed at me. Gregor Ivar, at the sight my being, his eyes grew rounded and filled with confusion. A form of fear crept into him, manifesting in his eyes. It was something I did not expect.

“You…”

“The one you perceived as the Angel of Death.”

Silence. And for once, the urge, the ‘man’ deep within me grew, and I found myself engulfed, covered, and brimming with courage. For once, I no longer felt so unseen. This was the man who murdered my family, for all that I did, for all the things I’ve done, for another man. My deceased beloved, they were good citizens. I do not mind if it was me who they choose to outcast, choose to hunt down, but involving those who knew nothing of this…

That cruelness hurt me so much that I forced the birth of something that had laid dormant within me for years, that couldn’t have not awaken should this terrible sadness not visit me. This urge, this courage gave me strength…fed by my remembrance of the parents that brought me into this world, and nurtured the earlier days of my life…

“I do not think you’d know me, a child of with no greatness to his name, but I suppose you must remember the massacre of the Montgomery clan.”

And to that one sentence, Gregor Ivar’s face lightened up as if he now finally remembered something from his stacks of terrible memories. “Gabriel Montgomery; the human son that turned traitor for the sake of his elven father, forsaking his own flesh and blood…yes, how can I forget…that fifteen year old traitor…or the face of his father when I read him the decree and the accusation laid onto him…”

“How dare you talk like that to His High Highness Lord Gabriel-Admarith Montgomery, Gregor Ivar,” Lord Ladir’s voice interrupted us, which shocked me. “Have some respect, at least, for our King’s son, and not spoke of his deceased parents in that way!”

“Gregor Ivar, I did not forsake my birth father and mother, or my siblings, or my own race.”

Pause.

“I simply wished for justice for the man that gave me the opportunity to pursue a dream otherwise very much impossible for me to grasp, and it happens that the man in question is, after all, Lord Ban. Tell me. How could a man with such kind heart, who took me in, cared for me, fed, schooled and nurtured me, a mere human, as his very own son ever wish for the death of those of the same race, from the same kingdom? A man that entrusted the front line of the defending army of Norath, in facing your king, to two humans, while sent his most trusted right-hand man here on a mission to salvage this dying kingdom that once was Revelia? How could he ever wished for this kingdom’s destruction when what he had been doing was obviously the opposite?!”

Silence, again.

“Have you been poisoned, child, after living for so long with that damned son of elves?” he said with face so disgusted, his lips cringing. He didn’t have to say anything further to tick my nerves off. Only his expression and my nerves erupted, I found myself deeply disgusted.

“STOP differentiating elves and humans!” was what I screamed when his words took for such dishonouring turn. “There were NO differences between the two races, except for some easily-overlooked physical traits that couldn’t have set us both too much apart. There are no differences between the humans and the elves!” I found myself adding, which, of course, shocked everyone on the stage, and some who stood the closest to the stage itself. Those who heard my voice but failed to catch the meaning of it seemed to be straining their ears, and forced silence upon their peer when they couldn’t hear mine. That action, too, shocked myself, to an extent, upon realizing what had just escaped my lips was something somewhat futile, something I wouldn’t ever say in my old skin, something I wouldn’t even dare thought about. The coward, quiet and reserved me was kinder, and was afraid of losing peace more than anything else, avoiding confrontation and conflict like a plague, hating to be in the limelight and preferred the back seat. Why. Under this pressure, I found every trait exclusively ‘me’ to be dissolving very quickly under this acidic and erroneous air. The personality that once suffered near-death experience awhile ago, somehow, died with those words I’ve said, and I found myself becoming someone else but the acolyte by the name Gabriel…

Of course. Among those reaction I expected from him was rage, anger, and disgust; disgust over a human child, whose family was massacred as an answer to his action of defending an elf yet he still went on defending the same man, and even now, the entire race itself. It was so obvious in Gregor Ivar’s eyes; denial will be useless, an action in vain. We stared eye to eye. A small part of me was still amazed that I managed to hold his gaze as long as he would look at me. That disgusted, evil gaze, who wouldn’t accept anyone’s word but his own and his mighty king of whom he worship like a God.

“And you, child, of all this talk, may I remind you of who you are but a lowly son of a farmer, living in a forsaken village who held no real power in this upper society? I listen and answer to no one, but my one and only lord, my master, the blood-heir of this land!”

What a despicable agenda to play with, using my commoner status and my family’s poorness, namelessness as an agenda to dishonour me and perhaps, shut my lips. Although I tried hard not to be taken too much by those words, the fact that the wound of losing my family in return for my traitorous act still bleeds merely made me feel a little worthless, a little ridiculed, and greatly belittled. It was hard to ignore the feeling, not with the gazes of Lord Ladir, Lord Michael Parsat, Seth Frederich, Lady Freiya and Jared de Blanc, who was all, without a doubt, a member of the upper society with honoured blue-blood running in their veins. Gregor Ivar’s voice, even without the help of magnifier, boomed and echoed within the square, letting more people than those very near to us to actually hear what he had just muttered. Under the curious gazes of those around me, I could feel my hide burning little by little, although I tried my hardest not to let it get too much to me. Unfortunately, I failed internally but my ego wouldn’t simply give away the failure my heart was experiencing that my façade remained stoic, cold and somewhat egoistic. Though I realized, if anyone ever saw my hand, they’d known right away the amount of fear I am experiencing – the failure itself, the discouragement. Perhaps this was what brought about another interesting turn of event, when Lady Freiya, whose face was still hidden beneath a black silk veil, stood up from her previous sitting and stepped forward, next to me, facing Gregor Ivar together with the other four. The crowd began to whisper, and my fingers were beginning to feel numb, my entire being shaken deep down to my marrow, stronger and surer, as the whispering began to grow louder, heavier and of course, more futile. Lady Freiya did not do anything to stop this rousing insecurity, but when sometime has passed, she rose her hand, pointed to Gregor Ivar and the entire crowd quietened. What amazing aura, she radiates, I thought, that will a single gaze, she stopped every voice and reclaimed the attention.

“Gregor Ivar…” she began, her voice deep and heavy, yet soft and clear. I was shocked. There contained within here voice was rage, anger, hate. I needn’t be told how it was possible for her to keep such feeling deep within for I am all aware of the tribulation she had to face, but she, of all people, capable of expressing such element of emotion surprised me. It seemed to have surprised the other personalities standing with us as well, but the crowds somehow succeeded in take it naturally, although it wasn’t hard to see how much they were straining their ear to listen to what she had to say, this veiled lady.

“If I, in his stead, mutter those words, will you accept it as the decree; the voice and will of this land the way you will accept those of Darius’?” she asked. What an elegant thing to say to this traitor of Revelia, I thought. Gregor Ivar seemed shocked when she said that, and in his best effort, tried to search for the identity of this woman who had just wilfully asked him something he would easily consider as blasphemy. He needn’t say it, but it was easy to see how his eyes were asking for reasons for such odd behaviour, word, decree. Of course, us all; Seth Frederich, Lord Michael Parsat, Lord Ladir, Gerald de Blanc, myself, the other elven soldier as well as the resistant member were all well aware of her standing. In this monarchy kingdom, no one stood afore the bluebloods, not even the most influential minister among all…

Not even him, Gregor Ivar.

“Who are you, lady, to speak of such matter with such manner?”

I realized that he was curious. I looked at Lady Freiya and she nodded. Words pose no need at all between us, that as she removed her veil, I heartily announced;

“I present you; the wife of King Admarith Noel…”

to be continued in part 07