The clash of angry scarlet and tragic blue,
Heralds but the deluge of avaricious fools,
Relentless in their selfish pursuits,
Only to stand before Judgement’s gates
Bathed in darkening hues.

The burden grows heavy
With burning desires,
Yet when all is done,

Who will appease the angry deity?

The prologue
‘Still waters’

“The prince returns,” the king grinned from ear to ear. He brushed the ministers aside, and rose from his seat to welcome his beloved son. Prince Liszt Wayne, heir to the crown of Bunaph, knelt before his father and saluted.

“Long live His Majesty.”

King Wayne II laughed. “Dispense the formalities my son. You have toiled much for the country.”

“So says the king.” Liszt rose from his position and stood before his father. “The northern provinces are troubled no more by the Mai nomads. The nomads have been driven back to the deserts. Several task forces are in placed now to re-establish peace and security in the stricken areas, and are currently in the process of enhancing the local defences against future skirmishes by the nomads.”

“Indeed, the Mia nomads are scoundrels who seek not to better themselves but reap the rewards of other’s labours.” One of the ministers remarked. He realized his position too late, and quickly disappeared into the shifting ranks of officials.

King Wayne II gave a hearty laughed. “Nonetheless, it gladdens my heart to know that you returned safe and sound, Liszt.”

“I live for the country, father.”

“No one could fault such gallantry, but still as a father, it would break my heart if anything should happen to you, Liszt. You deserve the credit for this mission. Although I do have to say that I have qualms about you striking out alone.”

The king looked at his son. The crown prince was a charming young man that has won the hearts of many a dame in the courts. But yet there were things waiting for the young man to do. It was perhaps, the final test to the throne.

“It would not be long before your coronation, Liszt.”

“You are too generous father. I have no wish for the throne as father is still fully capable of ruling the country.”

“You are such a stubborn boy, Liszt.” King Wayne II smiled. In his hand he produced a worn scroll depicting several pictograms and archaic passages. “This is perhaps the final quest that I will lay upon you. Take it as the final rite of passage. Do not feel ashamed if you should fail though. You have done the country a great service even without this quest.”

“I will not fail you, father.” Liszt replied. The scroll reclined docilely in the king’s callous hands, but somehow, he felt a strong sense of foreboding.

“Take this, Liszt.” The king handed it to his advisor who in turn, offered it to prince. Without a further look at the scroll, Liszt knew exactly what his father wanted him to do.

“It shall be yours, father.” Liszt knelt and saluted the king. In one fluid motion he rose and turned, his royal blue cloak billowing behind him. With swift, strong steps, the Crown Prince of Bunaph exited the throne room, his eyes, confidently staring into the distance.

When the heavy doors swung shut, the old advisor approached the king.

“Perhaps it is a little too early, Your Majesty.”

“The quest for the Divine Tear is fraught with dangers, that I agree. But I have trust in Liszt. He is the only one who can return it to the country.”

“But…”

King Wayne II turned to look at the advisor. “Have faith in the Crown Prince, Eldrick. He will return with the Tear.”

“So you say, your Majesty…”

Chapter 1
The Moonlight Masquerade
The Mask of a Man

Jean Herd twirled happily in the kitchen, her hair painting a river of red. She hummed a lively tune, swirling to the song that she used to love as a child. What a fine day it was, and an unforgettable night awaits. She set down the bowl of potatoes she had been cradling on the oak table and skipped to the stove.

“Smells really good” she chimed, returning to the oak table. The kitchen was filled with the glorious smells of dinner. Hands propping her cheek, Jean peered through the window and watched the sun sank into the western hills.

The door creaked open. A tall man with auburn ambled in, throwing a cloak about his lean frame as he came into the kitchen. Julian Herd had chiselled features, sharp, piercing almond eyes and a demeanour that spoke of gentle determination. He gave Jean a wan smile before grabbing a baguette at the table. Jean smiled back at her brother.

“Why don’t we have dinner early today? I sure do not want to miss the start of the Moonlight Festival,” she chirped.

“Where is it held?” Julian mumbled round a bite of the baguette.

“The town commons. I heard that it’s going to be the biggest festival in years.” Jean’s eyes flashed with excitement. “Danielle told me that they have sent invitations to the towns of Ivalia and Destroph. Oh…there’s going to be so many people there.”

“And there will be no lack of scoundrels I gather. Take care Jean, some people are best left alone.” Jean huffed. Jean was old enough to look out for herself, but being the elder of the two, Julian could not help nagging occasionally. He smiled to himself, grabbed another baguette and headed for the door. “That will be my dinner, Jean.”

“What?” Jean protested. “Where are you going? I spend a day on this meal!”

Julian winked. “I have some errands to run my dear Jean. A healer’s time is always erratic.”

“You should have told me earlier.”

“Well, I’ve just learnt it myself. I’m sorry Jean, but I have to go.” He offered a sympathetic frown as he held the door wide open. “Enjoy yourself tonight and I’ll be there to see our princess home after the festival.”

Before Jean could voice her complaints, Julian was out of earshot. The doors to the stable creaked open and it was not too long that she heard her brother’s horse clopped down the gravel path to the forest. What could she do? Her brother was ever the dutiful doctor, responding to calls that come even in the oddest hour. And being the country’s best doctor did not help in establishing a fixed schedule. She sighed, looking at the mashed potatoes sulking at the bottom of the bowl. How lonely it was to dine alone.

Dinner was done before long and Jean quietly did some chores before slipping into the dress for the night. She peeked out of the window to see the sky aglow with the sun’s dying fire. Danielle had promised to arrive at the Herd’s farm just after dusk. It was not long now till darkness slips over the lands, and the start of the Festival. Swirling gently about in her gown, Jean indulged in her admiration for herself. On her dresser sat a white porcelain mask, bearing intricate designs painted in gold. Her brother had found a skilful maker and had paid quite dearly for it. Sometimes, her brother can be so gentle and sensitive to her needs. But that was only sometimes. She heard horses approaching the house before Danielle called out her name. She beamed to her image in the mirror. It was the start of a wonderful night.

Moonlight gently caressed the host of townsfolk as they gathered at the commons that night. The moon hung proudly with a company of stars, ready to the conduct a symphony of celestial music to accompany the dance of hundreds of young dancers.

Overwhelmed by the sheer number of dancers, Jean hesitated to join the dances. The commons was a large field by the river, with the festival crowd segregated into four circles, each surrounding a lively band. It was not long when she arrived at the commons, that she was being invited to dance. She turned down many, for she was not prepared. Only after much persuasion from Danielle did Jean agree to partner a man with a falcon mask.

Julian had taught Jean how to dance many years ago. Where did he learn to dance so well, she did not ask. But the more she danced, the more she loved dancing. Her partner was amazed by her fluid motions, slipping from position to position effortlessly. A crowd soon gather about the couple, admiring the girl’s beautiful synchrony with the music. Julian never attended any of the past Masquerades, claiming that Jean was too young to be left on her own. This year, she had barely convinced him that it was a good idea to allow her to the masquerade. Sometimes, he was as stubborn as a mule. Sometimes.

Each masquerade had the Moonlight Couple title awarded to the best couple for the night. And this night, Jean was determined to be the Moonlight Lady. Yet, who would complement her and be her Moonlight Knight?

As the tunes changed, Jean found different partners challenging for the title of Moonlight Knight. It was almost certain that she had clinched the Moonlight Lady title for that year. Dance after dance, confident young men took her hand and led her into dazzling performances of grace and skill as the music coruscated through the cool night air. Soon, she found herself short of breath as the band relentlessly played on. Giving a short curtsey and apologizing for being unable to continue the dance, Jean left a young man disappointed in the middle of the dance square. Her head swam with the music and her vision blurred. It was too good to stop, but her exhaustion had overwhelmed her desires. She found her way through the applauding crowd to a fountain by the commons. Finally, she let out a big sigh of relief as she sat upon the fountain’s cool stone ledge. The crowd dispersed, the couple forming once again, and the dances began anew.

“Enchanting, isn’t it my lady,” a low, deep voice brought Jean out of her reverie. Startled by the sudden appearance of a stranger, Jean shifted a few feet to her left. The man who spoke to her was clad in black. He wore a weathered nondescript mask which seemed odd to her. Most of the masks that she had seen were new, if not, in good repair. His cloak, though black, was badly worn, and his boots were caked in mud. Surely no one who attends the Moonlight Festival would dress as shabbily as this man!

“Indeed, good sir.” Jean stammered after calming herself.

“My sincerest apologies if I startled milady.” He rose noiselessly, bowing politely as he stood. “It was unintentional that milady should receive such a shock.”

“Nay, good sir. I was just exhausted by the dance.” Jean replied meekly.

“Indeed, ten dances, one after the other would be a punishing feat for anyone. Yet you flowed with grace and style my lady. It was a great pleasure watching you dance.”

Jean blushed. She did not know this man yet he was strangely alluring. He seemed to possess a greater depth of character as to the young men who lead her into the dances. His charm was not inhibited by his mask, and that made her want to see his face more. She blinked. He was still talking to her when she wandered off in her train of thoughts.

“Would milady be so kind as to allow me a dance?” He offered his hand and bowed slightly.

“But… But I have yet to recover my strength.”

“A pity then. Henceforth, I wish milady, a pleasant evening.” The man drew back his hand and bowed. Without a sound, he started for the town’s tavern.

“Wait. Wait. I am really sorry to refuse your offer but my legs are just not up to the task yet. Mayhap you dance with the other ladies? There is no rush this night.” Jean called out of desperation. She felt bad for chasing the man away.

In the moonlight, Jean saw the man turned and smiled.
“Yet, it’s only you, milady, who had caught my attention with your grace and charm. No other could possibly outshine you this night.” Jean felt her face hot with blood. She never expected such compliments. “Only with you, my lady, would I dance this night,”

“But surely…” Jean protested.

“There is no other, milady.” The man smiled again. “I realized that I have chores awaiting me come morrow morn, hence I am unable to tally here for too long.”

Jean bit her lips. It was so unusual that one could be so adamant on dancing with her. Nonetheless, she decided to play with the stranger a little longer.

“I would agree to a dance, if you are able to make me stand upon my own will.”

The stranger bowed and walked to her front.

“I accept the offer.”
“However,” he quickly added. “It is quite a challenge to make milady stand upon her own will. Should milady be standing, I will without a doubt, seat you on her own will.” In the moonlight, she saw the man’s soft and gentle smile.

“You seem confident sir. I wonder at what you would do to seat me upon?” Jean stood before him, smirking.

“Why, the feat has been accomplished. Milady has just stood on her own will.”

It was too late. Jean had fallen for his trick. The stranger however, did not seem full of himself for been able to trick her. He bowed humbly and offered his hand once again. Somehow, she did not feel tired anymore.

“Now my lady, if you would be my partner for the dance,” the stranger said. Jean accepted his hand and gently, he lead her back into the dancing circle. Almost on cue, the band started on a slow composition.

The music was enchanting, but with the stranger leading her on in the dance, she began to slip into a different world altogether. A world of dance. He was so much more skilful than those who had found Jean as their partners. His hand held hers firmly yet gently, their movements in perfect harmony with each other, with the music. It no longer seemed that they were dancing to the music, but the music was made for the dance. As before, a crowd gathered about the couple. Her steps complemented his strides in perfect synchrony. It was as if the two were made to dance together. The band continued with a few more slow pieces, for in the circle, danced the Moonlight Knight and his Lady.

In that intimate embrace, Jean could feel the man’s warmth and strength. Curiosity finally got the best of her.
“May I venture a question, dear sir?”
“You may but I may not answer.”

“You do not seem to be from Korse. If I may ask, who are you?”

In that moonlight accompanied by the soft music, his replying smile nearly melted her heart.

“Why, the mask is to obscure the identity of one, is it not?”

That was his charm. Jean sincerely wanted to see the face behind the mask of the man who cajoled her into dancing with him. She felt a hot rush within her body as she felt him looking at her.

“Now, my lady, let us not burden ourselves with the issue of identities, shall we?” Jean reluctantly nodded.

Before they knew it, the couple had danced six dances and was beginning to feel weary. Regretfully, they exited the dance circle, not without the an overwhelming applause from the watching crowd.

The couple came to the river that lined the commons. There, the music and conversations of dancers ebbed away. The river was a stream of liquid silver, reflecting the moon’s perfect glory.

As the stranger released Jean’s hand, he dipped his head in a small bow.

“I enjoyed myself greatly this night, milady, all attributed to milady’s grace and beauty.”

“It’s... it’s nothing, dear sir. But are you leaving this soon?” Jean stammered. She felt her face flushed with heat and her heart began to flutter.

“Aye, as I had mentioned before, chores await me came the break of dawn.” He retrieved a small flute from his breast pocket and twiddled it with his fingers. “It was a pleasure to have been your partner.”

“But… but they have yet to announce the Moonlight Knight and Moonlight Lady. You can’t possibly leave now!”

The stranger looked at her. Despite her mask, he knew she was blushing. Her long hair danced in the wind that was coming in from the east.

“Only so much I could reveal to you my lady. As you would have known, I am not of Korse, hence such honorific hold no import to me. A pity, but I am sure that you will be proclaimed this night’s Lady.” With that, he blew a short melody on the flute. The crystal clear notes were full of energy and spirited. A black stallion burst out of the trees on the other bank of the river. It broke into a gallop, thundering down the bank like a black wind. It swerved suddenly, and in a great leap, landed safely before the man. Jean stood dumbfounded.

“Now, I presumed it is time to bid our goodbyes. Farewell, milady. It has been a great pleasure knowing you.” The stranger nodded again and mounted the stallion.

“Wait… wait… kind sir.” Jean stammered. It was an awkward situation but she had set her mind on it. Removing her own mask, she looked at the man atop the stallion, silhouetted by the perfect round moon. “The masquerade is over from the two of us. Even if I do not know who you are, pray I have a glance at the man who became my Moonlight Knight this very night?”

“Alas, I have to refuse that request.” He said, turning away from her. “This is not a mere mask but it has been my face from years forgotten. I pray milady relinquishes on pursuing further.”

“But…”

“The price that comes with glancing at my face is heavy. Lives have been lost and those will not be the last.”

Jean gasped at that revelation. Her gentle and strong Knight, killing others just because they saw his face? She never would had thought that he could be so cold hearted. “Yes, people who had glanced at my face paid with their lives.”

The stranger held the reins tightly. “So time slipped us by. Farewell, my lady.” With that, he gave a sharp tug and the stallion was off, galloping by the bank of the river, leaving a dumbstruck Jean. The chill of the night got to her, but she could only stand by the lonely stream of silver and watch the shadows where her knight had disappeared into.

Julian hurried down the dirt path, slowing his mount to a halt before the gates of the town of Korse. There stood a girl in a long dress, her raven black hair catching the glow of the waxed moon. He quickly dismounted and went to her.

“Caroline, what happened?”

Caroline had been crying and her cheeks were sallow. She collapsed into Julian’s arms as he approached, sobbing softly.

“You have to help us, Julian. You are our own chance Julian… Our only hope…”she whimpered as she buried her face into Julian’s shirt. Julian could not do anything but hold her shoulders.

“Tell me the problem, Caroline…”

With great difficulty, Caroline mumbled.

“Leo? Leo Spartan?” Julian was bewildered.

“Please Julian… you are renowned in this country as a healer. My brother needs your help.” Caroline begged him.

Julian looked away. It was true that as a healer, his goal was to save lives. But to save Leo…

“I must refuse Caroline. I am very sorry, but I have to.”

“Why Julian? Why? Is my brother not of flesh and blood? Is my brother not birthed from the womb? Have you not sworn to save lives?” Caroline looked at Julian, the tears streaming uncontrollably down her wan face.

He held her tight, but he was unable to look at her face. The poor girl had succumbed into heaving sobs. Julian waited with bated breath for Caroline to recover from her fits of agony. “If I do so… I would be dealing the townsfolk… nay, the good people of these lands a disservice. I cannot Caroline.”

“But he is my brother!” Caroline screamed.

“I must reject… your request.” Julian forced himself to say the words. Never had words tasted so bitter and cold as a distressed girl pound on his chest.