The moment they set foot on the polished marble of the courtyard, the world around them shifted from the hushed confines of the carriage to the grand spectacle of the palace exterior.
The Royal Palace of Atteria was an imposing masterpiece of ancient and modern architecture fused together—ivory walls adorned with intricate carvings of past rulers, towering spires crowned with banners of gold and crimson, and colossal pillars lined with silver filigree that shimmered in the evening light.
The courtyard stretched before them in a vast, ornately paved expanse, flanked by two symmetrical gardens of silverleaf trees and luminous crystal blooms that pulsed faintly with energy, reacting to the mana of those who passed.
At its center stood an enormous fountain shaped like an open lotus, its waters cascading in smooth, mesmerizing spirals, seemingly manipulated by unseen forces.
Yet, the beauty of the palace was overshadowed by the sheer intensity of the gathering outside.
Diplomats, nobles, national guard officials, and envoys from nations near and far filled the courtyard, each adorned in their respective regalia, their hushed conversations weaving an atmosphere of restrained anticipation.
At the palace steps, a procession of Atterian guards, their obsidian armor gleaming under the reflected evening light, stood in rigid formation, spears in hand, faces expressionless. Their presence was more than ceremonial—Atteria had grown weaker, and today's meeting could determine whether it remained standing or crumbled under the weight of looming threats.
Further ahead, at the palace's grand entrance, scribes scurried back and forth, scrolls in hand, confirming the attendance of key delegates. Messengers whispered last-minute updates to waiting dignitaries, their expressions grim, while seasoned strategists exchanged sharp glances, already calculating potential shifts in power.
The tension was palpable, like a storm hovering on the edge of the horizon. And within it all, a subtle undercurrent of fear.
As Kiara stepped out of the carriage, Ramone's brows furrowed, his voice breaking through the surrounding commotion.
"So," he asked, his voice a mix of frustration and curiosity, "Who was that? And what just happened?"
Kiara's gaze trailed on the empty space in the back of the carriage where the jester was, her face composed, but her eyes carrying a weight of knowledge she had yet to share.
"That… was Grand Jester of Court Amakusaye," she answered softly, her voice carrying an air of reluctant familiarity.
"He's no ordinary entertainer, that's for sure. Some would say he's a harbinger of change—his prophecies are cryptic, and rarely, if ever, do they lead to good things."
Ramone's confusion deepened, his brow furrowing further. "A harbinger of change? But who is he really? And why does he… he seem to know so much about us?"
Kiara let out a quiet sigh, her gaze drifting back to the carriage as though lost in thought.
"He came to Eiria about four years ago. My father appointed him to the court soon after. He trusts him completely, and I... I don't."
She paused, and her eyes briefly met Ramone's and Akira's, the weight of her words settling between them.
"His ability is real. But it's not like what you'd think. He doesn't see the future in plain terms. No, he sees it in symbols and abstract concepts. He speaks in riddles and metaphors that often leave people confused—perhaps because he himself doesn't understand their meanings, or perhaps he thinks of it as a game."
Akira shivered, her hand instinctively tightening around the strap of her bag.
"Symbols and concepts? That would rely on his interpretation, which sounds iffy at best. How can that help anyone?"
Kiara nodded slowly, her voice quiet but serious. "Exactly but here's the real problem: when he shares one of his visions with someone, it has an effect on the future. It might alter the course of events, sometimes in ways even he can't predict."
Kiara stopped for a moment as if remembering something.
"Whether for better or worse, nobody knows. His words are like sparks that set off a chain reaction. That's how unpredictable he is."
Ramone's frown deepened as he processed the information. "So… he's like a catalyst. A person who can change the course of fate just by speaking?"
"Yes." Kiara's eyes darkened slightly, her tone hardening as she continued. "And it's not just that. The Grand Jester's true name is a mystery. No one really knows it, perhaps not even my father. But he calls him by a strange title: 'The Wandering Tides of the Flame.'"
The words seeming to linger ominously in the air.
"It doesn't make much sense to me, but that's what my father says. A name that feels as enigmatic as the man himself."
Ramone froze, a nervous half-smile flickering across his face—the first sign of amusement since the jester's appearance.
"So he has an epithet too. He might be one of the Seven Great Wanderers."
Akira shuddered. "The Wandering Tides of the Flame? That doesn't even sound like a title—it sounds like something out of a myth. How can your father trust someone like that?"
Kiara sighed, a hint of frustration crossing her features. "I've asked myself that same question countless times. There's something about the Grand Jester that feels off, like he knows more than he's letting on. The way he speaks, the way he moves… It's all like he's playing a game with fate itself, and we're just pieces in it."
She turned to look at them both, her expression hardening as the gravity of the situation became clear. "All I know is this: He has a part to play in all of this. Whether we like it or not, we'll have to face what's coming—and the Jester may be the key to understanding it."
Ramone's gaze was intense, a sense of unease settling over him. "A key to what? What's coming?"
Kiara's expression shifted to one of quiet seriousness. "You wouldn't know it, but Grand Jester is the main reason we came to Atteria in the first place. There are forces beyond our scope of knowledge that gather power as we speak, and we may never know about them until it's too late."
She glanced around at the gathered nobles, the officials whispering amongst themselves, the military figures standing like sentinels of a fragile peace.
"Eiria has only grown weaker since the Irie Civil War. And Atteria has become even weaker than us. If the Irie Civil War happened today, Atteria would stand no chance in their rebellion."
Akira and Ramone remained silent. Neither of them could refute Kiara's claim.
"But we're here for peace and reunification," Kiara continued. "An insurance against neighboring occupation and a revitaliaton of resources, preventing famine and pestilence."
Above them, the banners of Atteria fluttered in the night breeze. And beyond the palace walls, the world stood on the precipice of something far greater than any of them could yet comprehend.
"Let's get tidy and meet back here in fourty minutes," Kiara said.
They nodded in agreement as they went their separate ways.
And for now, the greatest threat to Atteria and Eiria was not war, nor famine, nor foreign invasion—but the question of who would sit next on the thrones.