The jester
The grand audience hall was fabulously lit through grandiose arched windows on either side. Sunlight glistened off the brass and gold etchings everywhere around the hall, from chandeliers to decorative ornaments, invariably marked with the livery of the Castigator. Crests and banners engraved with family mottoes finely crafted from materials of the highest quality, hung in carefully positioned places around the hall. These denoted the respective family’s status, lineage, and deeds.
Sweet aromas of burnt incense, cinnamon and musk permeated the air. Bouquets of freshly picked flowers with the colors of the rainbow were abundantly strewn around in neat vases and edifices all around the thick marble pillars that supported the magnificently painted dome, depicting wondrous scenes from the history, mythology, and tradition of the Outer Territories.
A ruckus of tingling bells and a flurry of strung chords echoed in the vastness of the audience hall, a single tinny voice singing along:
Five pieces of gold that shone, and the sight of her alone
Another man atop his throne, how will he ever atone
Bloody hands reach for the tome, will he ever dare to come home?
This ballad may remind you of lore, I might even sound a bore
The heart of it still remains, all will always be the same
As long as clouds grace the sky, as long as He will never die