Harbinger Of Doom: The Attainer

18. Recruited

Lores was seated in a neatly arranged carriage that coasted along the road. He was on his way to the palace to assume his job. He got an impression of Prince Mo's organized disposition. Once he showed the pass to the manager, the latter sucked in air with a pair of wide eyes. That token alone was a symbol of important authority.

"How good it feels to be an agent." He smiled at his own thought. He looked through the window to view people walking about, minding their business. He closed the window and took a breath. He was slowly progressing with his ardent desire.

After a while, the carriage ceased from moving.

"Sir, we've arrived." The coachman spoke from outside. He had been excessively polite during his interaction with Lores who found it distressing. It was as if he was some highly regarded envoy on a diplomatic mission. He descended from the carriage
and attempted to tactfully set things aright.

"You're too polite. Please call me Brenn." That would be his discreet name when dealing with palace affairs. The coachman aroused in alarm.

"No! You're the one who's too polite. For you to be ushered in directly by His Highness shows that you're an important guest." Lores sighed and nodded as a concession. It would be fruitless to utter another word.

He closed in on the palace entrance that had the name 'Snowfall' written on a plaque at its top. Two knights masked with facepieces stood stock still like the spears in their grip. They were strictly dutiful, and wouldn't allow Lores to enter even though he was ushered by the prince himself.

They expertly crossed their spears. Lores could imagine the stony faces beneath their facepieces. Once he exposed the pass, they uncrossed their spears and returned to their immobile form.

After taking about five steps, one of Prince Mo's escort came to receive him, giving him a hunch that his arrival had been prepared for.

"Good day sir, please follow me." He said with an expressionless face. Lores followed without bothering to correct him. It would be a waste of substantial time.

He led Lores to the drawing room and asked him to wait there. While waiting patiently, Lores espied a huge portrait of nature mapped on the wall. That moment, nostalgia attacked him. His mind travelled back to the lush forests and shrill cries of birds.

"The teeming anemone splay. O, how the cherubic sparrows sing and sail. The blustery wind sweep in fray. Over the landscapes, the wild blue yonder reign. Memories roll away like a sunward soaring crane." Someone supplely recited with an intone.

Lores jerked from his musings, and turned to the reciter.

The prince was in a black sleeved slim fitting apparel, his waist banded by a black belt. A white jade pendant was attached to his hip. His sleeky hair was done up in a ponytail, hands hidden behind. Lores thinned his lips into a small smile.

"Kristle." He said without a thought. His mom and Idrissa had previously taught him some poems from a renowned poet called Kristle and other prominent poets. Nature was evidently the theme of the poem, and it rhymed with his current emotion.

Prince Mo already saw Lores as savvy. He only smiled and drew closer to the other person, then became thoughtful for half a beat, his dark grey eyes zoning out for a split second.

"The last line of that poem was controversial. Some scholars opposed it by saying that memories, especially traumatic ones can never roll away like that. It won't be incorrect to say that they interpreted 'roll away' to mean 'forgotten'." His gaze was transfixed on Lores, waiting for a smart response. Then, it was common for scholars and philosophers to counter one another.

"It's because they fail to see it from the perspective of the writer. The last line of the poem has its own significance. I think what the writer is trying to depict as memories is time. Time rolls away as much as memories." Lores finished his opinion with a simple expression. The prince bobbed his head with impression. After an unclear amount of time, Lores expressed his feelings.

"I'd like to thank you for helping my sister obtain a becoming job." The prince shifted his focus elsewhere.

"You've already found out." He said with a lessened tone, a bit of embarrassment flushing him internally. He had thought his guard, albeit shrewd, could not easily bring his stealthy effort to light.

"Don't mention. That's one of the benefits for agreeing to work for me." He looked back at Lores. "So what's your name?"

"Brenn. Brenn Fost." Lores answered without looking away.

"Alright, your official name will be agent seven...or simply seven." Prince Mo said, barren of suspicion.
Seven nodded in congruence. Mo sighed, accentuating his satisfaction gotten from the success of his new recruit.

"Let me introduce you to your colleagues." He brought down his head and moved it a little towards the door. "You two can come in."

At once, Boln and Hilbwet stepped in, faces as blank as paper.

"They are Agent 1 and 2. In other words, they are your seniors by ranking." Lores' face goodened as he introduced himself.

"Seven." He presented courteously, head tilting down a bit. Boln and Hilbwet both nodded once with small, imperceptible smiles.

"One, I have a task for you." Mo called. Boln knelt with one knee against the floor.

"I'm at your service." He spoke firmly.

"Those foxy princes are ruling the east with unrecognized autonomy. They've even gone as far as meddling with the troops of Everdusk. You will be transferred to the East and act as my agent there. Any development must be reported to me."

"Noted." One replied without a second thought. Mo smiled and dabbed his shoulder two times, then warmly commanded him to rise. He thereupon asked them to dismiss themselves.

"What's up with the East?" Lores inquired. He needed to know the situation surrounding his post.

"Some time ago, a divination pointed that doom will come from the East. After that, I was appointed as the protector of the eastern region due to the existence of the highly influential men that reside there - the princes of Dawcane. We speculated that those prince may rise in rebellion in the future, considering that they've been insistent on getting back their castle." Mo explained to his new recruit. Lores thought for half a beat, befuddled by the explanation.

"What's the need of going through all these when the king can effortlessly satisfy them by giving back their castle?"

"The castle of Everdusk is a military based stronghold that is wanted by men with military power. They won't be satisfied if the castle is given back without the army. Therefore, giving them Everdusk will be like sharing the country into two." Prince Mo cleared Seven. "You have been employed as my aide to protect my interest."

"I see." Lores didn't think much about it. By the time he's done with rescuing his father, he would abandon everything and escape. He just needed to understand the circumstance he got himself into to be able to play along for a real good while.

"I saw earlier that you were engrossed in the portrait. You must be someone who appreciates nature as much as I do, right?" Prince Mo changed the subject, taking a look at the portrait. Lores joined him to watch the portrait of a vast greenish vegetation receiving sunlight from the azure sky that had birds flying in a flock.

"I grew up in this type of environment. Why won't I appreciate it?" He responded with a warm smile. Mo perceived that Seven may be missing the place he was born and brought up. He chipped in an idea that would placate the other person's nostalgia.

"I have many portraits of this nature. I can give one to you if need be." Lores gave him a quick glance. The offer was tempting but he had a good temperament. All forms of distraction must be expunged.

"I'm grateful but there's no need." He answered kindly. Mo nodded.

"If you say so." Mo made for the door with the words. "Follow me."