Curselock

Chapter 132: Ghostly Reflections

Before the boys could so much as frown at the transparent man, he shimmied to the side before speaking.

“Announcing His Majesty, King of the Reflection Kingdom, Sir Harlen of the Dormant.”

At his words, a troop of trumpets began to play. The sound appeared from within the room, a previously invisible grouping of transparent people engaging in the music. They flared into being, slightly blue but otherwise indiscernible. They gestured with their instruments as the song changed, turning from horns to a string symphonic.

The boys looked between each other.

With the summons, a figure appeared beside the original transparent man, thus exercising the announcer’s duty. He faded away.

The figure slowly became less and less translucent as he walked into the room. Regal silks first materialized, coloring themselves in as the music continued to blast. A scepter was next, finding the man’s hand just as a horned crown presented itself. All in all, the man, obviously a king, continued into the room as more and more royal mantle flexed into reality on his body.

By the time the last set of earrings and a golden crown appeared, the man was significantly more opaque than before, although light still traveled through him a bit. The music blared a final crescendo that pulled at reality, causing an equally overwhelming throne to appear at the head of the room’s main dining table.

The King, Harlen, sat as the final note finished. The band then faded away, just as the announcer did moments ago.

One by one, he looked at the room’s inhabitants. He started with Roy and Diana, quickly finding their child, Jude, then Glenny and his cloak that reached for shadows. Finally he found Leland, and smiled.

“Ah, I didn’t know another royal party was inbound to this soiree. Well met, Son of the Calamity, my name is Harlen of the Dormant.” He made a strange face. “Is sweaty a modern fashion style? Have I come underdressed?”

Almost instantly, Harlen’s over the top dress drooped and filled with water. He dripped an off-blue liquid, creating a cascading waterfall from the seat of his throne.

Leland, however, didn’t notice. He forced himself to straighten his posture before stealing a glance at the Huntress, Jude’s parents, and Aunty P. who was still waiting at the door. Roy and Diana were the easier to read of the three. They looked at Leland a bit awkwardly, especially since Jude and Glenny both quickly found themselves gazing at the ceiling. Jude’s parents knew there was a story here, one that was most likely a secret since Jude hadn’t previously told them about Leland’s title.

Aunty P. however, was as stoic as a statue. She didn’t show anything but a gentle smile, the same one she normally wore. But Leland could tell, deep within his gut, that she was looking at him with the eyes of a political reverend. Whether she recognized the title or not, just being called royalty by someone with the title of King, kicked up a storm in her mind.

The Huntress, meanwhile, had her focus solely on a bagel-like hunk of bread. He didn’t know what to think about her in this situation.

Leland cleared his throat and spoke to Harlen, “An honor, my… liege, but I am no royal. Just a young man with connected parents.”

Harlen eyed him with a bit of amusement. He smirked, expelling the water from his clothes to the side. The water poofed into a blue haze, which quickly formed a servant. The transparent servant gave a small curtsey before pouring a blue drink into a goblet that at some point formed in Harlen’s hand.

Leland and the other boys were captivated by the sight.

“Haven’t seen too many ghosts made out of an entire kingdom, have you young Calamity?”

Leland swallowed at the title. “Please, call me Leland. And I’ve been to Ruinsforth twice during the Reflections, although only as a tourist.”

Harlen narrowed his eyes but smiled.

“I see, then how about a proper introduction?”

Before Leland could respond, his parents, Sybil, and Carmon all walked in. Their presence, however, didn’t deter Harlen from his grandeur.

The King stood, sending his throne spiraling back into a puff of ghastly smoke. Harlen extended his hand to Leland, sending the world into an eclipse. The room darkened and elongated, turning oddly circular like looking through a domed window.

Specters appeared next, like the souls Leland summoned. They entered with a harrowing wind pushing in a new life to the silent room by means of convergence. One next to the other, rows upon rows, to heed the royal call; all with glowing blue eyes and an iridescent sheen. Farmers, bakers, military men, scholars, servants, murderers, thieves, the unlucky many of the Reflection Kingdom formed and sought out their temporary life.

They all stared at Leland, guiding his hand into Harlen’s.

“King Harlen of the Dormant. Former Legacy of the Void Caller.”

His voice came out hesitant, “Leland Silver…”

Harlen quirked an eyebrow, but accepted the improper introduction with a smirk. They parted hands, casting away the ghosts that filled the room and the effects they produced. The King then sat back down, recreating his incorporeal throne.

Aunty P. walked into the room proper, frowning. She gave Harlen the look, saying, “What did I say about doing that? You’ll scare someone to death!”

Harlen tilted his head to the Eldest Princess.

Lucia and Spencer locked eyes with the Huntress as they entered, each giving a brief glare. From there, they sat beside their son. Carmon likewise went to Glenny but Roy stopped him cold.

“Our sons have promised to duel this evening! Think you can clear the time to watch?”

Carmon regarded his old friend for a long moment. His cloak of blades shifted uneasily on his shoulders, an improper thought occurring to him. Did Roy really believe he’d ignore a chance to see Glenny fight? He resented the notion.

“Wouldn’t miss it,” he said, taking his place at the table.

As Harlen asked about this supposed duel between Roy and Diana, the other parents discussed various things with their children.

Spencer and Lucia questioned the Huntress and her involvement in Leland’s morning exercise. He promptly stated she punched him multiple times in “training,” a smile on his face the entire time. His parents, however, didn’t find it funny nor warranted. They glared at Isobel despite her back being turned.

Glenny told his father of his findings with his cloak, specifically the nigh teleportation level movements it produced. Carmon listened intently to dozens of ideas on how to incorporate such an item into a move set or fighting style. When Glenny mentioned he asked Diana for some tips for moving incredibly fast, his dad produced an obvious answer.

“Just adapt to the speed.”

It was the first time Glenny had ever heard his dad mention the Legacy of the Chameleon’s hidden ability and it honestly threw him for a loop. Under a hushed voice, he asked about his mom’s abilities and how she implemented adaptation.

“Your mother was always on the lookout for things she could adapt to. She believed there only to be a handful of poisons that could kill her. I watched her nearly kill herself adapting to something impossibly unique only for it to save her life a few years down the line.”

“Why… why didn’t you tell me about adapting sooner?” Glenny asked, remembering when the Huntress first explained the intricacies of his Legacy.

Carmon couldn’t look at his son when he spoke. “I-I didn’t want you to go through that pain.”

Glenny pulled himself back, his eyebrows shooting to his hairline. “But after all of the training you made me go through? After being woken up in the middle of the night to spar or learn dances? You pushed me so hard to survive! But you didn’t want to tell me about adapting because it may bring pain? Pain that would allow me to survive?”

He was whisper yelling at this point, completely uncaring that others might hear. Luckily for him, one of the other adults had created a bubble of privacy around them, silencing their words from outside listeners.

Well, that wasn’t quite true. The creator of such bubble, Aunty P. listened to the conversation quite intently. Actually, she listened to every conversation she could. It was, after all, her job to know where the threats were and who they were speaking with. While she didn’t think anyone in the room was about to do evil, she wasn’t ignorant of the fact that there were a series of mysteries surrounding Leland and the Huntress.

But that was neither here nor there. She was here to protect Sybil and orchestrate the Royal Dream. Leland and his mess would come later, but right now… she strained a bit, tilting her head just ever so slightly.

A Legacy ability activated with impunity, and she touched upon the ending of a conversation. Her old bones went cold, her mouth went dry, her hands clenched. Another ability activated, and now she heard everything within the royal campus and more.

“Your mom was supposed to tell you when you were ready. I know that she’s gone and is never coming back, but I didn’t want to undermine her decision on the matter,” Carmon continued. “Pain, Glenny, is something you can’t fully heal from, even if you adapt to it.”

Glenny stared at his father. “What does that mean?”

“It means, there are wounds that not even the Lord of Chameleons himself can walk away from. And I’m not talking about a knife to the back.” Carom took a deep breath. “So yes, I didn’t tell you because I didn’t want to see you go through the same as she did. I didn’t tell you because I don’t want to abolish her image. I didn’t want to tell you because, in all honesty, I was opposed to you adventuring in the first place.”

Glenny found that hard to believe. “Adventuring is everything to you.”

“Not true. It was, for a time, but then we had you and priorities changed. I never would have thought— I didn’t think your mom was going to die the way she did.”

“But you—”

“I isolated you because your mom wanted you to make your own choices. To decide your own fate. I forced you to train, yes. I hid adaptation from you because I’m a coward, yes. I wanted you to survive and grow powerful, but I didn’t want to see you in pain.”

Glenny found himself sucking on the back of his bottom lip. This wasn’t how he imagined his reunion with his dad going. They had talked for hours last night but that was all superficial at this point. A rehashing of his journey so far, the battles he faced, the lives he took. Nothing of substance, only tales to tell around a campfire.

No, those conversations were not the ones he promised himself he was going to have. His time with Gelo and Floe came back to him, his introspection around love and family.

His anger was easily swallowed. “Dad, I’m not a kid. I can handle the things you don’t think I can understand. Mom being gone left a huge hole in my heart, and it only grows when we speak. I-I need you to shrink it, I need you to be my father.”

Carmon listened silently, finding himself nodding alone. “I want that as—”

“Sorry to bother,” Aunty P. said, interrupting with a whisper into Carmon’s ear. “Trouble. A maid six hallways to your right. About forty meters underground. There’s a cellar in the gardener’s tool shop below the bolted shelves.”

Carmon’s eyes went progressively wider. But he stole his composure, asking only one thing, “And the gardener?”

“Ignorant. The cellar is known to anyone but a few. Capture her. I have questions.”

Other than Carmon suddenly vanishing from his seat, the only evidence that he left was a wine glass that shook slightly.

“Don’t worry dear,” Aunty P. Said to Glenny, “your dad loves you very much. All he talks about is you and how he wishes to be by your side.”

A question poured from Glenny’s mouth before he could think it over, “Then why doesn’t he quit the Inquisitors and do that?”

She gave a somber look. “Because he also has a hole in his heart. And it is too large and too broken to do anything other than wallow.”

Glenny didn’t know how to respond to that.