CHAPTER 88: CURTAINS AND CONFRONTATIONS

After the play was done, Lucen asked one of the theater staff if he could meet the playwright. They, of course, agreed and guided the group to the playwright.

The playwright was in a room with several dozen books, and in the middle of the room was a desk with a person sitting on it.

The playwright looked to be in his late twenties, though the sharpness in his eyes made him seem older in spirit. His dark auburn hair was slightly unkempt, tied loosely at the back with a leather cord, strands falling freely over a pale, ink-smudged face.

He wore a deep blue waistcoat over a high-collared shirt, its sleeves rolled to the elbows and stained with blotches of ink and soot. A pair of small, wire-rimmed glasses rested low on the bridge of his nose, clearly well-used, judging by the scratches on the lens and the tape on one arm.

Despite his youthful age, his posture was calm and composed, as if used to long hours of both study and stress.

His fingers were stained with ink, yet moved with a scholar’s precision as he flipped through the notes on his desk. When he looked up at Lucen’s group, his eyes, piercing and steady, a pale green touched with gray, carried the weight of someone who had read and remembered entire lifetimes of history.

"This is our playwright, Harry Nidouhi."

Upon the mention of his name, Harry, who was reading a book, finally looked up, and with a frown on his face, he looked at the group that had arrived.

"Who are these people?"

"Harry, this is the Iron Duke’s son Lucen Thornehart and his companions."

"What do you want?" Harry spoke with some irritation in his voice, which almost made Sir Thalos smash his face. Of course, Lucen already predicted that and raised his hand to stop Sir Thalos.

"Nice to meet you, Harry. I just wanted to ask a few questions regarding the play."

"Great, another noble who has some notes for me. So what is it? Do you want me to make a story about you? The rising star of the Norvaegard?

"You know of me?"

"Yes, I know you, Lucen Thornehart. Everyone in the Capital can’t stop talking about you. Your story is quite interesting, but there’s no ending to it yet, and I don’t make plays with vague endings."

"I think there’s a misunderstanding here. I was not planning on asking you to make a play about me," Lucen replied.

Harry blinked, then leaned forward slightly, his fingers tapping the spine of the closed book before him. His expression shifted—still guarded, but no longer irritated.

"Then what do you want?" he asked, this time with more curiosity than scorn.

"Like I said, I just have a few questions."

"What is it?"

"About the story of Norvaegard’s origin, how much of it is true?"

"The story has been told a hundred times with different interpretations. The main story itself came from the journal of the Star Mage Lunavere Aeromont. There were, of course, some minor changes I implemented to make the story more appealing."

"And those were?"

Harry tilted his head slightly, studying Lucen for a moment, as if weighing how much he should say.

"The biggest difference is tone," he said plainly. "Reality rarely has clean arcs and poetic symmetry, but theater demands it. For instance... Edric’s final duel. In the journal, it’s vague, some scribbled words about a battle with a dragon. There was not much mention as to why the battle happened or how it happened. It was simply stated that it happened. Lunavere Aeromont was not there during the battle. She only saw the aftermath, so I filled in the gaps with stories coming from different sources."

"What else was changed?" Lucen asked.

"King Richard’s ending was as is, since not only was that part written in great detail, but many other historians also wrote about the event, so there was more to go on. As for Lunavere’s ending, of course, that one was fully made up by me. The journal was given to her descendants a few decades after Richard’s death, so her story after that was taken from word of mouth. The last known sighting of Lunavere was on that hill overlooking Caelhart, but no one knew what she was doing there, so I made the ending to her story myself."

Harry adjusted his glasses, his ink-stained fingers brushing back a loose strand of hair from his temple.

"I knew I had to end it on something memorable. Something... fitting. A mage of the stars, alone beneath the heavens, watching over the kingdom she helped build—that was the image that came to me. And the meteor shower? That part is real. There were records of one on the same night she disappeared. Some thought it a coincidence, others saw it as her final spell."

"That was a pretty good ending," Lucen complimented. "I’m also interested in writing my own play."

The second Lucen said those words, the face on Harry’s face changed into a deeper frown as if that was possible.

Harry’s eyes narrowed behind his scratched glasses, and he leaned back slowly in his chair, folding his arms.

"Of course you are," he muttered, dry sarcasm dripping from every word. "First nobles wanted to act, then fund, now write. You all think it’s as easy as picking up a quill and declaring yourself inspired."

"Well, who knows, maybe my play would be a masterpiece."

"Hmph, you nobles think that everything is so easy. What do you even know of the art of writing?"

"Tsk, you make it sound like writing is something more than it seems. I must admit that the play I watched was entertaining, but that was it. It was simply entertaining, nothing more, nothing less." Robert suddenly chimed in on the conversation.

"Hmph, a mage’s cloak with the yellow tower’s emblem, an arrogant look on his face. You must be that so-called mad alchemist Robert Duskwell. What can a mage who only sees what’s in front of him know about the wonders in the mind of a writer, of an artist?"

"You think a writer can compare to me an alchemist? You simply imagine things and entertain people. But I look into the truth and create things that would advance civilization."

"You may create things that would advance civilization, but I write things that would inspire others to do such deeds and more!"

Lucen watched the two arguing with an amused smile on his face. While the two were arguing, someone entered the room.

"Sir Lucen, Count Vermont, and his son came back and wish to meet with you."

"It would seem that we will need to end this conversation here, Mr. Nidouhi. I will send you a rough draft of my work, and tell me then if I can write or not."

Harry adjusted his glasses. "Send it. I’ll read it... and if it’s garbage, I’ll make it the subject of my next satire."

After hearing Harry say that, Lucen exited the room, and Sir Thalos followed behind. Robert glared at Harry and showed him his middle finger.

***

Outside the theater, Count Kyle Vermont had quickly arrived at the theater after learning that his son had been embarrassed by a merchant.

He arrived in the theater with a group of his strongest men, three of whom were at the third aura mantle, and two mages who were at the third circle.

’Hmph, I was already irritated that commoner merchant Edrim was close to the second prince, but now even a random merchant is disrespecting my son. When did these commoners suddenly think they had the right to humiliate nobility?’

Kyle was fuming at the idea that these commoners gain a bit of money. They think they are better than a noble.

’It was the blood of our families that made Novaegard strong. It was we who laid the foundation so that these commoners can even live such nice lives. Now they think that they can look us in the eyes as if we are equal. Hmph, I’ll make sure to teach this merchant a lesson in manners.’

Kyle waited for the merchant who insulted his son to come out. Reginald was standing beside his father with a smug look on his face, wanting to see Lucen’s face when he saw his father.

The second Reginald saw Lucen come out of the theater, he shouted.

"Father, that’s the lowly merchant who insulted me!"

Kyle looked at the person who insulted his son, and the second he saw that silver hair, he almost had his eyes pop out. There were only a few people in Norvaegard that had silver hair, and fewer that had silver hair and ruby red eyes. Kyle immediately knew who the other party was, and he now understood that his idiotic son had messed with someone he shouldn’t have.

"Heh, now you’ll see how-" Reginald was not able to finish what he wanted to say as his father covered his mouth. Kyle was already sweating a little as Lucen approached them.