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ลำดับตอนที่ #2 : Chapter 1: A Gift From Dad (ของขวัญจากพ่อ)
CHAPTER ONE: A GIFT FROM DAD
“If you wanna take the lord, you gotta start from his knight.”
The boy quipped, content and composed, as he moved his piece to take the enemy knight. There was an amused gleam in his brown eyes as he studied his frustrated opponent who still refused to surrender.
“Tis the age of the bishop! One bishop is enough to storm the castle.” The losing side retorted smugly, though his brows were knotted in a deep frown, and his bare crown was shining with beads of fresh sweat that oozed out from hard thinking.
“One bishop, huh?” The boy repeated with a laugh. He caressed the scar under his left eye as a smirk crept up on his keen, almost handsome features. “Well, Dad, that depends on how strong your bishop is.”
“Strong enough to freaking take your castle, so there!” The father retaliated, then declared war. “Check!”
The boy tilted his head, chuckling lightheartedly as he pushed his king out of harm’s way, annoying his old man.
“Check, check, and check again. You’d better watch out, Dad, I’m gonna double-cross you.”
“Pah! You? Double-cross me? D’you know who you are and who I am, you danged puppy?”
The danged puppy chuckled, undaunted, then delivered his trump card.
“Of course; you’re a thief, and I’m the one heir of Demos and Baramos.”
The old man hiccupped, taken aback, then recovered. Smiling nastily, he shot back.
“You’re a fool and you don’t even know it. A man must know how far he could go. Long as you don’t know yourself, you won’t be happy no matter where the hell you go. The one heir? Pah! We’ll see. You’ll be crying your eyes out someday, mark my words.”
The boy merely guffawed at his warning, but the old man’s eyes betrayed a fleeting moment of solemnity as he glanced at his son, before he returned to the game, loudly announcing his attack.
“Check!”
“You sure?” The boy asked. When his father gave him the eyeball, he clucked maddeningly, then nonchalantly sent his rook to gobble up the opposing bishop.
“Oi! Wait!” The old man cried desperately as he snatched his opponent’s hand on his bishop. The boy’s sharp eyes slanted at him, and he heaved a heavy sigh when he saw the wide, taunting grin on the rascal’s face. A quick study of the chessboard left him no choice but to give it up as there’s no hope of winning.
“Game, game, game! Let’s quit!”
Declared Madus Debereaux, the Thief of Baramos, who finally must admit defeat in chess to his wisecracking son. The little pain was still grinning ear-to-ear, as lively and merry as he usually was, acting every single bit as infuriating as he did last year, despite the outlandish change in his status.
Felin Debereaux, the Thief of Baramos; his teenaged son the thief he sent into the Edinburgh King Academy last summer. Hardly a year had gone by when the truth was unearthed that Felin was actually the Princess Feliona of Baramos. But her fate was fickle and mischievous; the princess could not return to being a princess, ending up a young lad Baramos did not yet dare to officially declare a Prince.
“You’re getting rusty, Dad.” Remarked Felin as he gathered up the pieces to put away.
“Nonsense! You only caught me off guard.” Madus denied, rubbing his nose with his finger.
“I caught you off guard?” Felin repeated, baring his teeth. “Don’t tell me you’re cooking up something weird again. Mind you, I’m totally not in this time; that danged stealing-princes-and-princesses thing. What a horror. Give me a break.”
“Stealing princes…”
Muttered Madus as he glanced fleetingly at his complaining son then turned away, lost in his thoughts.
Felin sighed at the seriousness in his father’s expression. He can’t help shuddering with fear and laughter at the same time. Hopefully Dad wouldn’t come up with something odd again.
The moment Felin left Demos, he found his father Madus lying in wait at the Frontier as though he knew when Felin would return, and Felin had no choice but to shelf his plan to nip off and spend the rest of his school break at Kil’s house.
So, here he was, stuck with Dad at Edinburgh’s border.
“Stealing princes. Ugh!” Felin groaned, slumping against the stone wall behind him, looking utterly fed up. “Filthy, filthy rich. The world bowing at our feet. Total garbage.” The troublemaker started his gripe, and Madus’s eyes darted towards him.
“What are you complaining for?”
“Well, isn’t it true, Dad? If that could really make us filthy rich, then how the hell did we wind up holed up in this blithering motel? And this freaking bread is freaking hard as freaking rocks!”
Knock knock went the long, thick column of bread as Felin disgruntledly rapped it on the table to prove his point.
“Tis the rough times we’re in right now.” Madus replied indifferently, picking up his tea and sipping it. “Besides, it’s your fault you can’t change back. After all the trouble sending you to Demos for a makeover, and you came back bare-handed!”
That particular remark sent Felin scowling. He snapped the bread in two then chomped hard on its soft core, looking nothing like a royalty, and Madus hid a soft sigh. After some mental math, he can’t help worrying for Baramos’s future.
The Prince of Baramos
Oh Lordy.
If he’s a princess, he doesn’t need to be that perfect. He only has to take care of himself, then he’ll have plenty to live by, but if he’s a prince…
No brawn. Nor brains. Don’t look the part. Ain’t got the heart.
Either Baramos or Demos will fall under his reign of terror.
The noontime Sun blazed strongly, piercing through the dense mist and bathing the copper-colored brick-laid lane. The alleys of Edinburgh’s Market Square were crowded and bustling as always, even though Eden was approaching a time of famine. Several nations were swept by the winds of war and natural disasters, however, under Great Philosopher Lemothy’s care, Edinburgh could impressively retain peace and prosperity.
The shops lining both sides of the lane fluttered with colorful flags of various countries. Calls advertising bargains and sales to welcome the King Academy’s Admissions rose against each other into a jolly din, spicing up the atmosphere in downtown Edinburgh every year. The sight of countless shops herded together everywhere he turned could delight Felin as it did the year before. The steed shops with dragons of all sizes crouching in front, complete with crossed-out-yet-again price tags hanging from their leathery necks, particularly excited him. He can’t help daydreaming that maybe, this year, he’d get to trade his noble steed Rosie for a reasonably priced, handsome young dragon more befitting of his glory as the Prince-of-Baramos-to-be.
Felin admired a Wreath Dragon, famed for its intellect, displaying itself in front of a shop, but it seemed Madus knew better; he hurried past the spot, calling brusquely.
“What you got on your list this year?”
At that, Felin quickly rummaged for his shopping list. The Academy had it sent to him ever since he set foot back into Edinburgh.
“War Strategies I by Sun Tzu—Elementary Knowledge Regarding a King’s War Chariot by Colonel Chabber Gonzalez—”
Felin read as he walked. That was as far as he could get before Madus snatched the note from him, swept his eyes roughly over it then strode into last year’s same old used-books store, ruthlessly putting out the young prince’s sputtering hope. Felin sighed softly then obediently followed Madus inside.
Once he met the same old shopkeeper with the same amount of hair as himself, Madus handed him the list, made a deal then an appointment to receive the books in half an hour. That settled, he marched ahead of Felin out then into the same neighboring large trinket shop.
The shop was still overflowing with customers as ever. Once they managed to squeeze their way inside, the father instructed his son strictly.
“You wait ‘round here, now.”
Then Madus vanished into the shop’s backroom, leaving Felin to traipse away to the rows of staves displayed nearby. His old wand, though he had barely touched it, was crumbling to pieces. Originally a battery-powered fake, the Prince of Kanoval gave it an extensive revamp to coax out some magical power from it. However, its wood was still not strong enough to withstand magic, and the poor thing looked as if it would fall apart three times a day.
Honestly, he needed a replacement. He’s the heir of Demos and Baramos, dammit! He’s gotta do better than that rotten baton.
The thing is how to talk Dad into it. It doesn’t have to be that latest version the sage cloak-clad shop assistant was ballyhooing away about…just one with the right size would be enough.
Felin gazed at the handy-sized staves spread out in front of him. The price of the cheapest ones was already hair-raisingly in the late three-digits, but he still couldn’t resist picking up a dark-brown staff with a crimson tassel and waving it back and forth.
It’s just the right weight, not too large or too small either.
His eyes fell upon the staff sitting next to it then. At a glance they don’t seem any different, except that this one’s wood is of a lighter color, and its tassel is white, but its price somehow shot up another hundred krowns.
Felin moved the first staff to his left hand and picked up the new one. His brows furrowed and his face puckered up a little in thought, then a voice spoke up beside him.
“The one in your left hand is made of Redfox wood, with a tassel of phoenix feather, embellished with runes by the Dwarves of the Dark Tribe. The other one is made from five-century-old Dunube wood, tassel of unicorn tail hair, enchanted by the witches of Snowland.”
“Ro Zevares.”
Felin called, glancing up at the person now standing beside him; a teenaged boy with a beguilingly young and innocent, fair-skinned face, with his trademark bangs and clear green eyes. Those eyes, wise beyond his years and cunningly intelligent, made Felin jumpy for no reason every so often. Especially now that they were staring at him openly, then swooped to somewhere lower than his neck and back up again, a queer smile dancing on his lips.
“How was your school break?” Felin continued first to dispel the awkward air, and the lad simply grinned.
“So-so.” Ro replied vaguely, handing him another wand along with his advice. “This one’s better.”
Felin laid down the wands he was holding to accept Ro’s instead.
“Doesn’t look any different.” So he said, but his eyes were sparkling with enthusiasm.
“You have to choose a wand with your mind.” Said Ro, “Nobody just stare and grope.”
Felin chortled at Ro’s explanation, winking as he twirled the wand he was holding deftly.
“Staring and groping is a thief’s habit! It’s hard to get out of. If you can’t stare with your eyes and grope with your hands, I bet I’d have to give up thieving and take up begging instead.”
The instant he finished his rib, Felin jolted hard with a sharp breath; the beggar had laid his hand on his chest most unabashedly, then ran it up and down, feeling. Felin felt his hair stand on end as he stood petrified, his hand holding the staff quivering, but Ro merely withdrew his hand with a sly smile.
“You went all the way there and you came back bare-handed. What a waste of time.”
The insinuating words had Felin swallowing down his anger. He bared his teeth, then reverted to chuckling. Bumping the know-it-all’s shoulder, he chided laughingly.
“Freaking smartass.” Then he threw in a jibe. “Think you’re so smart all round, huh? So d’you know where the crown prince of Tristor is?”
The airy bluff worked perfectly; the erudite immediately tensed up, and Felin chuckled, satisfied that he could get even. Tis still early to corner someone like Felin, kid.
Ro Zevares, however, could still maintain his calm, offhandedly changing the topic.
“So how is it? Feels right? This one’s made of thousand-year-old Goldengate wood. Enchanted by the dwarves of Demos. Tassel of phoenix tail feather.”
Felin laughed softly, tossing the wand back and forth to test its feel in his hands at Ro’s encouraging.
“Fabulous.” Then he went on to twirl it smartly round and round.
“Two thousand krowns”
The wand jerked to a stop when Felin’s breath caught, and the thief scrambled to get a hold of it before it toppled out of his hand as his heart plummeted to his feet.
Two thousand krowns and you freaking egged me to wield it, you ass?
Felin bared his teeth at the ass, who still looked miraculously unperturbed. Before he could retaliate, every wand in the shop suddenly flashed with golden light with a particular someone’s entrance.
“The Queen Bee of Athens”
Felin said with a lighthearted grin, gazing at the queenly lady with her back straight as a metal plank and her neck stiff and high as though fastened with a tight screw. She gave him the most fleeting glance with the very corner of her eye brimming with contempt, before passing on.
She probably remembered that it was he who had brought about her humiliating defeat in last year’s Royal Chess Tournament, but it’s not as if he could help it; he somehow ended up as the Chessmaster, while she was the Noble Castle King he had to lock jaws with.
But dammit, crossing swords with beautiful ladies really isn’t his cup of tea.
The shop swarmed with chatter with the same question Felin had last year, about the staves’ glowing. Felin grinned then edged closer to the lad who had enlightened him back then.
“The staves lit up because they sensed immense power.” Felin voiced, still not tearing his eyes away from the gorgeous queen still poised most noticeably over there. “But she isn’t any good.”
“How d’you know that?” Ro shot back, studying a wand he was holding.
“Last year she fought with you, she got herself finished in a few blinks.”
“Five minutes.” Ro grinned. Felin snapped his fingers, then went right on gabbing.
“Right? If she’s actually good, she wouldn’t get done in that easily.”
This time, Ro hitched a slight smile and went on flatly.
“Yeah, right. And how long d’you think it’d take for you and me?”
Felin nearly choked on his words, then he guffawed in amusement.
“Well, that depends on what we’re competing in! If it’s a lightning-fingers-and-feet race, I’ll win no matter what you throw at me period. But if you wanna set up a begging race, then I can’t win to save my life, right, Mr. Beggar?”
He had barely finished when the golden lights flashed out, and Felin could remember the cause of the phenomenon without even having to turn around.
“After the almighty Sorceress of Athens, next up we got the Bad Boys of Kanoval.”
Ro laughed softly in reply, turning to look at the new group of clients entering the shop. The young man leading the throng was graceful and gallant in his princely pose, but he’d send people scampering with his emotionless face and freezing cold eyes of startling blue. Flanking him were two enormous, intimidating men alongside two dazzlingly pretty belles, like heaven coupled with hell.
For a breath, everyone in the shop was intrigued by the young royalty, Prince Kalo Wanebli of Kanoval, before the wheels of commerce cranked on normally. The prince’s beautiful blue eyes met Ro’s for a moment, before looking past him at the young hellion standing nearby, the one shining him an aggravating smirk, teasing and taunting.
“Aren’t you guys best friends? Why not give him a hello?” Ro asked.
“He’s a real-deal prince, that one, not a beggar or a thief like the two of us. How on earth can he and I be best friends?”
The rascal laughed heartily, pleased with his quip, then froze when he saw Madus emerging from the back room and sweeping straight out the door, leaving no room for Felin to dawdle. He had no choice but to swiftly say goodbye to Ro and hurry out after his father.
Dad bought him some astounding stuff this time; inside the large bag, apart from a box Dad said was a Royal Healing Kit that he couldn’t care less about, was a long, tapered box lined with fine cloth. And nothing could surprise him more than the slim brown staff lying inside it, which, —assuming there’s nothing wrong with his memory—he was sure is the same as the one Ro recommended to him back in the shop.
That two-thousand-krown wand!
Felin’s eyes bulged as he glanced from the wand in his hand to Dad’s face and back over and over in disbelief. His heart thundered in his chest, thrilled like a little boy presented with a new toy. And he’d thought Dad would buy him new spare batteries. Who’d think Dad would splash out and get him the real thing this time.
A wide smile stretched Felin’s cheeks, as always not good at hiding his excitement. He fondled his new wand lovingly then shot his mouth off in the opposite direction of his heart, as he liked to.
“Dad, you shouldn’t have done this! Why buy something this expensive?” Felin clucked in his throat, still running his hand all over the staff in glee, though his mouth was grumbling in a small voice. “What a waste. A real waste. A total waste—”
At that, Madus cut in, annoyed.
“If it bothers you so much, then give it back.”
He snatched at the wand, but his thief son proved to be as fast as his profession called for. He ducked swiftly then spun around to shine him a wide, flippant grin.
“I mean: what a waste, you should’ve bought me this last year. Everything’s so expensive right now.”
Madus growled in his throat at the slippery excuse, then feigned deaf at the annoying chirps the little rascal seemed to be meaning for him to hear.
“And look, you spent so much on this baby. And we’ve still got loads of things left to buy. What’re you gonna do if you ain’t got enough?”
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