Fire roared and embers crackled. Its flames flowed over the black charred stones, but the wind that seeped through the windows pushed back against it and turned it into a pillar of lightish smoke that rose to the ceiling. There, above the hearth, a chimney ventilated the living room. The tiled ground around the fireplace was lower than the surrounding wood-planked floor that was covered in carpets. Their colours were vividly distinct, gifted by houses and statesmen of prestige. The home housed handcrafted couches that a nobleman could only dream of ever loaning, and even the simplest-appearing wooden chairs were worth a thousand crowns each. But unlike the interior of a palace or an estate, there was not a single shelf that showcased anything of boast-worthiness. There were no ornamental weapons on display, and there was just one thing, a baroque grandfather clock, that stood out among the gentle wealth. From the outside, the house appeared a humble abode for an old husband and his wife, surrounded by a park on all four sides and a pond at its rear entrance. The fences that bordered this property were too far behind the thicket and gardens to be seen. Whoever lived there would often forget that they were residents of the capital city, Haven, and for the bicoloured-eyed boy, it certainly felt that way.
He sat on a chair, leaning forward, his face feeling the intensity of the flames. Smoking a cigarette that had been hastily put together, he soaked in a breathful of his self-claimed herbs of healing properties and exhaled its grey fumes. The lieutenant-elect stared at the moving flames that drew nearer and nearer, but he would oft reset his position, paranoid of being alone. He looked to the front door, then to the windows, through which he could see his friends, outdoors, braving the breeze of the winter sea. The snow was up to Károly’s knees, but he practised his archery as if it did not bother him. Captivated by his art, Arnau and Siegfried watched from the side, however freezing it was, as Arminius saw the little one shivering.
Indoors, above his head, he heard the rustling of clothes and something being dragged along its floor. Whatever it was, the seemingly heavy object scraped across the ceiling, yet when it was picked up, it was done so with surprising ease. His friend made his way out of the room and descended down the stairs. Minding his steps, Julien appeared around the corner with something in his hands.
Noticing him, Arminius sat upright as his friend cautiously approached him and joined his lone comrade. Julien set the object down on the coffee table beside Arminius before kneeling down, leaning onto his heels. He showed his curious friend an antique box that was coated in silver, its carving having been filled with red and black ink. In the centre of the case was a coat of arms, but it had eroded away and had become undistinguishable. Whatever lay within it, the lieutenant could not have ever foreseen it being intact, but Julien was more optimistic.
Still, Arminius tossed his smoke into the fire, having found more interest in the box than in poisoning himself. “What’s this…?” Turning to Julien, he swung his chair around.
“My grandfather’s prize from fifty years ago.” said Julien, modestly. “He was gifted this in return for a peace treaty.” Holding the box under his hand, he told him.
Unsure if he had exaggerated his story, Arminius turned his focus away from the box to his blonde-haired friend, but it did not seem as though he was lying. If it were true, the treasure would have been priceless. Seeing that Arminius had been lured by its mystery, Julien promptly moved his hands onto the box’s lock. There was no keyhole. Just will and a little strength were needed when he gave a firm tug on its latch and released its seal. For five decades it had slept in the shadow. Whatever was within it was to feel the light of the sun and the warmth of a hand again.
Julien’s eyes, instantly mesmerised by the marvel of its contents, widened and glimmered. It was only when he remembered that he was meant to show Arminius what it was that he spun the box around for him to see. But when the lieutenant peered inside the box, the object that lay on a velvet cushion was something he did not expect to be as protected as a jewel was.262Please respect copyright.ＰＥＮＡＮＡzJvMoEoVfK
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