THE city of Olde Glassfield dazzled with the brilliance of sparkling luxury; following her prince’s pact with Dalleon Prince of Waterfort.
Just overnight, Glassfield became that famed city. That city every heirsen eye wanted to feast on.
And whether it was about her dazzling splendor, or it was about her famous prince… just everyone had something talking in the chatters about Olde Glassfield.
Prince Xandur’s fame spread so fast. Faster perhaps than the gust of a reckless wind.
For the fame of the old noble had reached everywhere, even before the prince got home from the pact with Dalleon.
Yes, Xandur’s renown grew within days, and weeks, and a full moon. And faster, too, than the word of mouth could possibly do.
Old Xandur had everything now. He’d got the pride and the envy. He’d got the honour and the glory.
For no heirsen sighted the noble from faraway, without ever bowing to the earth from that far distance.
And no heirsen ever came close to him and dared to look up at his visage or form.
Noble Xandur was now decked in pure, luxurious gold head to toe. In that same armour that was meant to be of pure crystal.
Yes, Xandur had everything, it seemed. But the noise of his fame seemed to be over nothing in particular. It seemed to be about nothing at all.
Everyone talked about Noble Xandur. But no one knew of anything brave and knightly that they were praising the prince for.
For indeed the brave Xandur those people were praising, had lost the flaming tongue that made him Xandur.
He’d lost the city, too, that made him Protector.
When the chatters about Xandur suddenly filled everywhere, and when the talk about his city became the new gossip, the old prince knew the situation better. He knew the people were talking about nothing.
Yes, the talkers themselves couldn’t remember a thing. They couldn’t remember what they blathered, when they stopped.
No, it was all empty glory Xandur fetched for himself. It was all some futile fame and a hapless honour.
So Noble Xandur grumbled through those days, and weeks, and a full moon. That hectic time his fame travelled and settled everywhere.
He grumbled and groaned.
‘Ah, emptiness! This is all emptiness and nothing! Nothing… all nothing!’
But then Xandur’s exasperating outbursts were themselves helpless. In the face of the frustrations overpowering him.
Yet now there was something more painful to the Glassfield prince, in the package bestowed to him.
And it was that, despite all the honour and glory he’d bought at a costly price, the old prince still had to kowtow and bow to someone.
But if it was only to Dalleon who Xandur signed the pact with that he had to bow to… if Xandur had to bow to Dalleon alone, this would probably have sufficed for the fallen warrior.
But then Noble Xandur had to pay total obeisance to Celson Prince of West Stongate, too.
That insolent youngster he met at the Waterfort banquet.
When the Glassfield noble learnt about this – and that that youngster was appointed his guardian in the Great League that he’d just been grafted into…
No, when Xandur was told this the day he was grafted in, he felt trampled on and trodden down…
And utterly crushed into complete nothingness.
Xandur hurried back to Olde Glassfield that day and cried bitter tears. It was the first time he cried since his mighty fall.
For truly, Xandur couldn’t take the hefty humiliations underlying his irresistible honour. That great honour he bought at the cost of life itself.
No, he couldn’t take it at all; he just could not.
Now Celson of West Stongate was made guardian over everything Xandur. And Xandur’s city was put under his overall control.
All that the Glassfield prince intended for his own city must pass under the vetting eye of the prince of West Stongate. Celson must give consent before Xandur could lift a hand or foot in Olde Glassfield.
And so it hurt the Prince of Olde Glassfield so much. So much he loathed himself for being little. So much he hated himself for being so small.
For after all’s said and done, a small chap as Celson was more honourable than him, reasoned Xandur.
For indeed Celson ranked far higher than him.
In that Great League of yesterday warriors.
Click HERE to see other chapters of the free eNovel The Outcast
© July 2021 Kayode & Tola Olla