23 The Golden Glow and the Storm
Silence. The battlefield was plunged into absolute silence. João looked around, overcome by a strange, inexplicable feeling. As he breathed, I felt that even the air seemed to be filled with his presence. Nothing dared to move, nothing looked away.
— Get up. Felicia's voice cut through the air like a breath of authority. It was calm, cold, indifferent. Without even changing her expression, she turned to João and said: — Since being here was your idea, take care of the rest.
Felicia had not come by chance. Her reasons were twofold: first, to obtain fresh water—a precious elemental resource cultivated in abundance by the water clan. Second, to accompany João. Fernando had asked her to look after him personally this time. He was her nephew, after all.
In life, Felicia only valued three things: family, power, and wealth. But unfortunately for her, she spent more than she could accumulate.
Hearing the voice of that divine figure, the warriors looked at their relevant leaders. After a brief signal, everyone stood up, still hesitant. Felicia's assistant positioned himself discreetly behind John and Isa, looking like a bodyguard—silent, but alert.
Two figures stood out from the crowd. A man and a woman. The woman, a human, represented the water clan. The man, a beastman, wore the markings of the Barbarian-Bo tribe. They both approached with reverence and bowed at the same time.
—Greetings, mighty masters.—The Water Clan pays its respects.—The Barbarian-Bo tribe offers its submission.
João commented on the field around him, analyzed the two representatives and responded in a neutral, firm voice:
— Find a suitable place for us.
The two leaders looked at each other for a moment, stifling their grudges. In silence, they joined forces and set up a tent with the best we could offer. João, Felícia and Isa were escorted to it with all possible respect.
The tent, made of thick greenish fabric, was surprisingly cozy. Metal beams reinforced the structure, making it sturdy enough to withstand even the storms of the rainy season. It was a shelter worthy of a new era that was beginning here—one where old enemies bowed before a new protagonist.
Inside the tent, John, Felicia, and Isa sat on chairs made of thick, precisely woven thread. They were surprisingly soft and comfortable—a sturdy, functional craft. John, curious, thought it might be a good idea to take some of those chairs home.
Felicia, on the other hand, was oblivious to everything. Sitting with a blank stare, lost in distant thoughts, she showed no interest whatsoever in the world around her.
"What are your names?" John said , addressing the two leaders who remained standing in front of them.
— I am Kassandra, matriarch of the Water Clan. — the woman said in a firm tone, soon followed by the beastman.
— I am Barbara One, chief of the Barbara-Bo Tribe.
John almost laughed. "I wonder if there's a Barbara Two? Three? Four?" he thought . But he kept his composure.
— I'm John Venhorst. This is my aunt Felicia, and this is Isa, my assistant.
The moment the two leaders heard the surname Venhorst , their expressions changed. The tension on their faces eased slightly, yet the nervousness did not completely leave them.
"So it is the young lord... and the Red Dragon Lady," Kassandra murmured , almost in reverence.
Even though they had never seen them before, they didn't dare doubt their identity. Felicia was a legendary figure. Rarely seen, always on the move, with stories spread throughout the kingdom. And no one in their right mind would pretend to be Miss Red Dragon .
"Sit down," John ordered , pointing to the chairs in front of them. The two leaders obeyed without hesitation.
"May we ask the reason for the young lord and Miss Red Dragon's visit?" Kassandra asked with measured respect. As a matriarch, she had learned to recognize power—and she did not underestimate John because of his age. There was a strange presence about him, an aura of depth and antiquity. When she heard him speak, it was as if she were speaking to someone much older than he appeared.
John stared at her for a moment before answering:
— We are here today because the market is out of fish... and out of meat. — He paused, observing their reactions. — This fact intrigues me.
He let the silence hang for a few seconds before continuing:
—But for now, these questions will be left aside.—What matters now is to understand one thing: why are you fighting... without authorization?
— The law clearly states that no region can go to war without the Lord's authorization. — John crossed his arms, his gaze firmly fixed on the two leaders. — What do you have to say about this?
Kassandra was the first to respond, keeping her head down.
— Young Lord, the Water Clan has nothing to say about this matter. We patiently await the Lord's decision.
She chose her words carefully. She did not mention "the young lord's protection" but rather "the Lord's," making it clear that, in her opinion, John did not yet have full authority to judge or punish in the name of the central sovereignty.
Barbara One then spoke, her voice deep as muffled thunder:
—The Bárbara-Bo tribe will also await the Lord's justice.
John nodded slightly, maintaining his composure. Then he asked gently,
—That being the case, all right. Now, tell me: what is the cause of this conflict between your regions?
Kassandra and Barbara One looked at each other. The reluctance between them was visible. John noticed the hesitation, but he waited patiently.
Finally, Kassandra spoke in a watchful tone:
— Young Lord, regarding this matter… we believe that only you have the qualifications to know the details.
John kept the same calm expression and replied:
— Very well. With that in mind, we'll leave this topic aside for now. — So, how about we talk about the reason behind the lack of meat and fish in the market?
Kassandra felt a tightness in her chest. Something about this conversation didn't sound as expected. Maybe it was John's impassive serenity, or the way he ignored the political provocation and focused on practical matters. Still, she replied:
— Young sir, due to the conflict with the Barbarian-Bo tribe, the Water Clan has ceased external services in the region. We hope you understand.
John nodded, indicating that he understood. Then he turned to Barbara One, making a subtle gesture with his hand, inviting him to present his justification.
— Young lord, the tribe's hunters are on the front lines, winning glory in the battle against the Water Clan. I could not send anyone to hunt while there was honor and combat to be claimed.
John listened attentively, and finally said, in a neutral tone:
— Since everything has been properly explained...— When do you intend to reestablish your services?
The two leaders did not respond immediately. That was a question neither of them had a concrete answer to. Even so, Kassandra stepped forward, trying to maintain some composure:
— Young man... everything will return to normal once the conflict is resolved. You don't need to worry. — His voice, however, sounded confused, as if he were trying to convince himself more than convincing others.
John closed his eyes for a brief moment. When he opened them again, the dark eyes that had previously been calm now shone with solemn coldness and visible annoyance. So far, he had not received any clear information. The two leaders were hiding much more than they were letting on. And John knew—something serious had happened for two regions to go to war without authorization.
"Very well." His voice was firm, his eyebrows half-closed. Then he took from within his robe a medal—heavy, imposing, shining—that represented the direct will of the Lord. He held it up before the two leaders.
— I imagine you know what this is that I have in my hands.
Didn't wait for an answer.
— Let us begin again. I will ask the questions, and you, as leaders, will answer each one with the utmost sincerity. Otherwise, your regions will suffer consequences that neither of you will be able to bear.
As he spoke, John looked away at Felicia. The two leaders, attentive, followed that gaze.
It was a mistake.
The moment they laid eyes on her, a chill ran down their spines. Felicia didn't need to move a muscle. All she had to do was stand there, motionless, and she still radiated an indescribable danger. It was like facing Death itself disguised under a calm cloak.
John continued, now with an aura of command that seemed to fill the entire tent:
—With this medal, I stand before you not as the young lord... but as the Lord's direct representative. My words are the lord's words. My will is the lord's will. I hope you understand the gravity of this.
The medal shone with a peculiar aura, easily recognizable even from great distances by anyone with the slightest arcane or political sensitivity. There was no doubt about its authenticity. And more than that: it was John's posture, the solidity of his words, and Felicia's overwhelming presence that placed the two leaders between a rock and a hard place.
Faced with the inevitability, Kassandra and Barbara One looked at each other once more, but this time, there was a silent understanding. John represented the Lord's will. Felicia had the power to destroy entire regions with a single gesture. There was no more room for evasion.
The decision was clear. They thanked the heavens internally for not underestimating John because he was just a child. They did the right thing. Otherwise, they might not even be alive at that moment.
"Young lord, Barbara One understands your words. I am willing to offer my full sincerity," the tribe chief said , his rough voice now reverent.
"Young lord, I, Kassandra, am willing to cooperate fully." The Water Clan matriarch spoke with even more respect, her hands trembling slightly as they rested on her knees.
"Young lord, the Bo Barbarian tribe wishes to make a treaty with you. Our tribe has served the lord loyally for generations of warriors," Barbara One began, bowing slightly, but before she could continue, she was interrupted.
"Young Lord, the Water Clan also wishes to make an agreement." Kassandra spoke next, her voice firm, as she gave Barbara One a look filled with hostility.
By now they both knew: winning John's support was the key to ending the conflict in their favor. A single word from him could seal the fate of either side—victory or annihilation.
Without wasting any time, both Kassandra and Barbara One discreetly activated their sonars to send messages outside the tent. Isa and John didn't notice, but Felicia did. Her eyes shone for a moment, but when she saw that there was no apparent hostility, she chose not to intervene... for now.
— Matriarch of the Clan. Chief of the Tribe. — John's voice echoed cold and expressionless. — Can you tell me , after all, the real reason for this war?
Barbara One's gaze flared as it landed on Kassandra. He was the first to respond:
— Young lord... some time ago , the capital, through the Mercenary Guild, released a statement. In it, they mentioned a mythical creature: the Golden Hummingbird.
— Golden Hummingbird? — John arched an eyebrow.
"Young sir," Barbara One explained, her voice rough but now less harsh, "the Golden Hummingbird is an extremely rare bird, practically unique in the kingdom. When it reaches maturity, it develops an elemental spatial nucleus. With this, it is able to fly through space, covering immeasurable distances in just an instant. By its nature, the Hummingbird appears randomly. No one can predict where or when it will appear."
John listened intently, but it was the next piece of information that truly caught his attention.
—The Guild's announcement announced that one of the kingdom's lords would give up one of his recommendation spots to the Institute... — At the mention of the Institute , Kassandra and Barbara One's eyes shone in an almost identical way: greed, ambition, and desire.
John narrowed his eyes.
— And how does all this connect with this war?
Barbara One took a deep breath, as if pondering the words. Then she revealed:
— By fate — or perhaps misfortune — the Barbara Bo tribe had an immense stroke of luck. During one of their expeditions, Chief Barbara Three located a nest where a Golden Hummingbird had just hatched.
The revelation made even Felicia, always impassive, lean back slightly in her chair, paying more attention.
—However, a newborn hummingbird, while valuable, is nearly impossible to capture without specialized assistance. We would need at least three primary mages to contain it. That is why the Council of the Three Barbarian Chieftains has chosen to seek help from the Water Clan. — As he said this, Barbara One shot Kassandra an accusing look, as if the mere act of naming her were poison in his mouth.
—With the support of the clan's mages, the capture was a success.
"Unfortunately, the Water Clan was not content with the reward previously agreed upon with the Bo Barbara tribe." Barbara One's voice carried a mixture of indignation and weariness. "Instead, they set their sights on the Golden Hummingbird. That is why the war began, and as a result… the supply of meat and fish was cut off in both regions."
John frowned. He still didn't fully understand the weight of the situation. He had underestimated both the importance of the Institute and the value of the hummingbird. Could a single bird, even a rare one, cause a war between two territorial powers?
Something was wrong. Or rather — something was being hidden.
— If the young lord is willing to make a deal with the Barbara Bo tribe, I, Barbara One... — She began, trying to offer some proposal.
— Young lord, the Water Clan is willing to hand over the Hummingbird, if you accept... — Kassandra hurried to intervene.
— You can stop right there. — John's voice cut through the air like a blade.
He had already understood the game. Both wanted to involve him in their conflicts, placing the final decision in his hands. But he did not want — or at least not yet — to be a pawn in the chess game of two regional powers.
"Where is the Golden Hummingbird?" he asked , a gleam of interest in his eyes, not for the bird... but for the reason why it had become the center of a war.
Barbara One glared directly at Kassandra. Everyone present—Isa, John, and even Felicia—fixed their eyes on the Water Clan matriarch.
Feeling exposed under the weight of the superior gazes, Kassandra's body trembled slightly. She clapped her hands once, and a woman in blue robes entered the tent, carrying a small cage covered with a green cloth.
With a light gesture of Felicia's hand, the cage was plucked from the woman's hands and floated gently toward her. Without ceremony, she removed the cloth, revealing the bird.
A golden hummingbird, the size of a baby's fist, flickered inside its cage. Its feathers glowed with a faint light, as if reflecting fragments of space, bending reality itself around it.
It was dazzling. It was alive. And somehow, it was dangerous.
John's eyes widened slightly. For a moment, he thought he was seeing a simple hummingbird—like the ones on Earth—but he knew this was no ordinary bird. This was a living artifact. A walking treasure.
Both leaders watched the cage in Felicia's hands with hungry eyes, but neither dared to move a muscle. What was worth a war to them now rested in the hands of a single woman.
"I'll take it," Felicia said with a cold expression, although a subtle glint in her eyes betrayed her satisfaction. "Since you don't know how to protect it, and anyway, you wouldn't be able to cross even half the region with such a treasure without losing it."
She turned slightly, then pointed at John.
— If you want compensation... talk to him.
Silence. John wanted to laugh. Or maybe cry. He had nothing—absolutely nothing—in his group that could replace a treasure capable of sending two regions into war.
But even so, the two leaders looked at him with hope in their eyes, as if he was suddenly able to solve everything.
The kingdom's capital was not only the heart of power, but also the most beautiful and opulent city in the entire land. Its stone streets gleamed with cleansing enchantments, and the golden domes of the main buildings shone in the sunlight as if in defiance of the gods themselves.
Ngola was home to the most influential people: ancient nobles, powerful families, and territorial lords with a say in the council. There was a district reserved just for these lords, with luxurious mansions surrounded by enchanted gardens. And, as expected, the Venhorst family owned their estate there.
However, castles — real castles — could only be built by three great families and the royal family . Hierarchy was respected even in stone.
Venhorst Mansion.
On the porch of the mansion, a serene-looking old man, apparently in his seventies, sat in a chair with a backrest, immersed in reading an old leather-bound tome. If John had been there, he would have run to hug him, calling him "Grandpa." The resemblance was striking—it was like looking into Fernando's own future.
A man approached with firm, reverent steps.
— Hello, Dad — he said.
The old man did not take his eyes off the book.
— Oh... Fernando. Are you back yet? How was the meeting?
Fernando pulled a chair toward him and sat down with a heavy sigh. There were clouds in his eyes, as if he carried the weight of bad news.
"Our enemies," he said, his voice low, "the Blood Moon Kingdom has launched an attack in the northwest. As a result, admission to the Institutes has been brought forward."
Francis, the patriarch of the Venhorst family, calmly closed the book. He did not seem surprised, as if he had already foreseen this development.
— How long do we have until opening?
— The royal decree declared that in six months the gates of the Kassange Institute and the Promised Land Institute will open at the same time.
Francisco interlaced his fingers, pondering.
—And which one do you intend to choose for Junior? In my opinion, Kassange would be more appropriate.
—I think so too—said Fernando, with a slight nod— but... he is going to the Promised Land.
— Why? — Francisco frowned. — Kassange has tradition. Structure. It's safer.
— Precisely for that reason. Five of the teachers at Kassange are members of the Evans family. Even the headmaster has deep ties to them. — Fernando paused and concluded: — If we send John there, he will be under the direct influence of the rival lineage.
Francisco leaned his elbows on the arms of the chair, thoughtful. After a moment, he sighed with a bitter smile.
— So, my beautiful daughter-in-law's dreams... of seeing her children together, caring for each other... will have to wait a little longer.
Fernando stood up slowly.
— Tomorrow I will visit Albert. I need him to conduct John's preparation ritual as soon as possible.
Francisco looked up, now more serious.
— Son... are you sure involving Albert is a good idea?
Fernando nodded silently. The answer was in his eyes: yes. Because there was no other choice.
Author's comment :
So, travelers of the Kingdom of Ngola, what would you do in John's place?
With a golden hummingbird in your hands, two regions about to explode and a future decided between alliances and betrayals… would you trust Barbara One or would you bet on Kassandra's silent game?
And what about the choice of the Institute... Kassange or Promised Land? 👀
Leave it in the comments:
🕊 ️ #TeamKassandra or 🪓 #TeamBárbaraBo ?
And if you think Grandpa Francis knows more than he's saying...
Every theory counts. Every comment strengthens the kingdom!
Until the next chapter — where fate will stop whispering and start shouting.