Paragon of Destruction

The guard looked at Arran and Darkfire suspiciously. "You were invited by the Governor?" he asked, some doubt in his voice.

"We were," Darkfire said. "So are you going to let us in?"

The guard didn’t answer, instead whispering something to one of the other guards, who quickly entered the gate.

Some moments passed in silence as Arran and Darkfire waited. Finally, a man emerged from the gate. Dressed in a blue silk robe and with his black hair elegantly coiffed, he looked like a high-ranking official or noble.

"Darkfire and Ghostblade?" he asked, a practiced smile on his face.

"That’s us," Arran said curtly, slightly annoyed at the wait.

"Excellent," the man replied with a nod. "I’m the Governor’s steward. Please follow me inside."

He stepped inside the gate, Arran and Darkfire following close behind him.

Within the walls, they found a large garden filled with neatly trimmed hedges, several fountains, and numerous marble statues.

With just a quick glance Arran could see that all the statues seemed to depict unusually well-endowed nude women, and he instantly found himself wondering just what kind of man the Governor was, to have his garden decorated like this.

He had no chance to give the statues a closer look, however, because the steward hurriedly led them to the palace itself, which looked even more imposing up close than it had from a distance.

The steward led them through the palace doors, passing several guards on the way. Once they entered, Arran saw that the palace was even more lavish on the inside than on the outside. Elaborate murals decorated the walls, and he was stunned to see that the ceiling was covered in gold plating.

Yet what really caught Arran’s eyes were the statues that stood on the side of the hallway. Carved from pristine white marble, they all depicted curvaceous women and couples in various states of undress, engaging in activities that could only be described as obscene.

"What the hell is this place?!" he whispered to Darkfire, who looked to be as astonished as he was.

"I don’t know, but I don’t think that’s even possible," Darkfire said, pointing at a statue that depicted a woman with curves so exaggerated it looked like she could topple over at any moment.

"Please refrain from discussing these matters in the palace," the steward said. Then, in a lower tone, he added, "And yes, the Governor’s tastes are quite... specific."

"That’s one way to put it," Arran said, glancing at a statue that showed three women contorted in a position that was not just extremely lewd but also, he thought, physically impossible.

The steward led them through several large hallways, each clearly decorated according to the Governor’s tastes. As Arran passed the statues and paintings, he stared in amazement, several times only barely able to keep himself from gasping in shock.

When they reached the dining hall, Arran was relieved to see that it lacked the decorations that filled the rest of the palace. Had there been any statues like the ones in the hallways, he was certain he’d have choked on his food during the meal.

As he looked around, he saw that the dining hall was filled with several dozens of people, spread across three long tables that were stacked with all sorts of food and drink.

On a small dais at the far end of the dining hall sat a large man, dressed in flowing silk robes in a variety of bright colors, and Arran immediately knew this would be the Governor.

The man was large in every sense of the word, tall and round-bellied, smacking his lips as he tore the meat of a roasted bird leg with his teeth.

"My Lord Governor," the steward announced as they entered, "I bring you the fighters Ghostblade and Darkfire."

"Ah good! My final guests for the day are here!" The Governor tossed aside the bone he held, then wiped his hands on his clothes. "Come, let me get a look at the two of you!"

Arran and Darkfire walked toward him, the rest of the people in the hall turning their heads and eying them with some curiosity. Many of them looked to be fighters, although some seemed to be merchants or nobles, and a few looked like they could be Shadowflame novices.

When they reached the dais upon which the Governor sat, he regarded them with an appraising eye, as if they were a pair of prize horses and he was a merchant considering a purchase.

Finally, he nodded in approval. "Good, good!" he said. "The two of you will do well in the next auction. Now sit down, and eat!"

Arran exchanged a look with Darkfire, who seemed as unimpressed with the Governor as Arran was.

Still, there was no point in causing trouble, so they gave the Governor short bows, then found seats at the tables. There were few empty seats, and Arran ended up at a different table than Darkfire, next to a young woman he suspected was a Shadowflame novice.

When he sat down, she gave him a curious glance. "I take it you and your friend are the ones who caused the big stir yesterday?" she asked, a smile on her lips.

"I suppose," Arran said. "Though we just had a few small sparring matches."

"No need for false modesty," she replied, an amused glint in her eyes. "You are obviously skilled, but I think you will find that the tournaments offer much more of a challenge."

Arran was about to ask about the tournaments when suddenly, the doors to the dining hall opened and the steward once more stepped inside.

"My Lord Governor," the man called out. "The young Lady Tirrand has arrived."

"My beautiful daughter," the Governor spoke loudly. "So good of you to join us!"

Arran turned toward the entrance, curious to see what the Governor’s daughter would look like. He hoped for the girl’s sake that she hadn’t inherited her father’s looks.

To his surprise, he immediately recognized her — it was none other than the girl he had seen that morning in Darkfire’s room, although now, she was wearing a dress rather than a bed sheet.

At once, he looked over to Darkfire. Seeing his friend red-faced and wide-eyed, staring at the girl in utter shock, he nearly choked trying to contain his laughter.

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