“..Once again, let me welcome Princess Lynea to Palomp”. Lady Claudette, raised her glass to conclude her toast. It was met with a mild, half-hearted applause from the assembled crowd, made up of mostly lower nobility. They couldn’t muster enough enthusiasm for the exiled princess, but I returned a smile anyway.

  We turned back to the bountiful spread laid out in front of us. Lady Claudette had decided to break with tradition — the more formal setting for a banquet was abandoned for a buffet. The dining hall was emptied of most furniture, except for tables laden with food, which were arranged to border the room. The Men and women who had never had a meal without someone to wait on them, now stood patiently in line with their plates.

  I slid a large spoon full of oven roasted potatoes onto my plate. Sir Owin did the same. I avoided the honey glazed carrots and so did Owin. I reached for the grilled fish and one of those made it to his plate as well. I walked past the tray of herb crusted duck and he paid it no attention either.

  I turned around and asked, “Are you going to stay close to me and follow my lead all day?”

  He smiled and answered, “During the royal banquet last year, I had that strange mushroom from Lenore that didn’t agree with me, while your highness had the foresight to avoid it. The entire royal court was sick for days, but your highness went about your day as normal. Lesson learnt, princess. I shall eat what your highness approves and stay far away from anything else”.

  I pointed to the tray with the honey glazed carrots. “Have you considered that I may have skipped the carrots because I simply do not like them? Not everything is a grand choice guided by my intuition”.

  He shrugged. “If you turned down a sip from the fountain of youth, I will have second thoughts about accepting the cup”.

  Sir Owin, my personal guard. I was only twelve when my father appointed him. He was promised a lot of money to sit around and do absolutely nothing — the only reason someone as strong as him agreed to it.

  “You would have no need for a fountain of youth if you got off your lazy backside and actually made an effort to raise your level again. Are you already on your way down? Is that a grey hair I’m seeing?”, I asked, much to his annoyance. He had not bothered to raise his level in all of the nine years he had been my guard. I was only making fun of him, but seeing the subtle change in his expression, I wondered if there was any truth to it. ‘Has the System deemed that his progression has stalled? Was he on a slow decline already?’, I asked myself.

  “Colorful language for a princess”, he replied. I had heard worse from him.

  “I wish you would put my intuition to better use than as your personal taster”, I complained.

  “Your days of solving mysteries in the royal court are long over, princess. It’s best we both come to terms with that. You are an exiled princess now”. Owin meant no disrespect, but I wished he did not remind me of that.

  “Not exiled. I was politely requested to relocate”, I corrected him. He chortled at my words.

  When my father had fallen sick, my eldest brother assumed the role of the acting king. Some of my brothers had to flee the country, others had their estates turned into informal prisons and had their freedom stripped away. I was considered less of a threat and was allowed to pick my new home, from one of the several less influential provinces. While his advisors would have preferred to get rid of all the rivals, having the entire royal family massacred shortly after coming to power, would have earned him the title of a tyrant.

  A portly old man, in flashy clothes and enough jewellery to weigh him down, sauntered over to us. Marquess Geralo, one of the many who had my brother’s ear. I was sure he travelled all the way from the capital just to see the sad state of the exiled princess and to rub it in. I would have to deny him the satisfaction.

  Without bothering to hide his glee, he announced, “Princess, it saddens me deeply to find you in such impoverished surroundings. The royal court certainly lost its charm after you were exiled”.

  “I wasn’t exiled — just politely requested to relocate. Don’t fret over my surroundings. I have received a warm welcome from the people of Palomp. Castle Wildencrest isn’t lacking in comfort or amenities. I feel at home here”.

  He scowled at my response. The Marquess eyed the room disdainfully. “Where are all the chairs? They expect us to eat standing up?”

  “It’s just something Lady Claudette picked up in one of her recent foreign trips. They call it a standing buffet”, his aide explained.

  “That’s the trouble with these border towns — strange customs have a way of making it past the borders unnoticed”, the Marquess grumbled.

  “I, for one, am fascinated with our host’s methods. The freedom to move around and choose my conversation partner, and not be limited by a seating arrangement that my rank dictates — I find it a refreshing change from the dull affair that these banquets tend to be”, I replied. Of course, in a more formal banquet, I would be seated next to someone with a rank close to mine, which in this room would be the Marquess. I mentally thanked the host Lady Claudette and her eccentricities, for saving me from a long unpleasant lunch, seated next to that slimy man.

  Marquess ignored my reply and switched his focus to more things he could complain about. “They expect us to act as savages and make our own plate? Where are all the servants?”

  “I shall make you a plate my lord”, his aide replied, before joining one of the buffet lines.

  “A banquet at the eleventh bell? Is it breakfast? Is it lunch? It’s as if they can’t even decide”, the marquess whined again.

  The door to the banquet hall opened and a young man with unkempt brown hair stepped through. Owin came next to me and whispered, “Junen is here”. I nodded.

  I turned to the Marquess. “It seems the day has worn me down already. I must retire to the balcony for the view and fresh air. If you will excuse me, Marquess”, I walked past him before he was tempted to offer company. But I didn’t fear that would be the case, as he had finally spotted one or two servants of Lady Claudette to order around. They scrammed to get him a chair and table as commanded. The meal would keep him busy for a while.

  I stood on the balcony that overlooked the noble quarters of the city. Immediately below us was Lady Claudette’s well-known garden. The garden was filled with plants that the countess had picked up over the years during her travels. I couldn't tell the names of half the flowers there.

  Palomp was the seat of power for seven noble houses that held much of the land nearby. I didn’t mind Lady Claudette, but the others didn’t particularly warm up to me. They didn’t see the need to expend energy to appease a member of the royal family who had no influence with the acting king. Fortunately, Lady Claudette was a countess, while all but one of the remaining seven were barons.

  My new home, Castle Wildencrest, was half an hour’s ride from Palomp by carriage. The royal family was paranoid enough to keep their castles separate from the nearest towns.

  Owin came to stand next to me, looking out from the balcony. Junen stood near the entrance. We had to go through a side chamber to get to the balcony, so we were free from the prying ears of those in the banquet hall. Junen was our latest recruit. He was once a knight in the capital, but now, he was stuck behind a desk in Palomp — another one of my brother’s victims.

  “What have you learned at the ravenmaster’s tower?” There was no better place to collect information. Most of the messages that came from Tarth or Vret passed through Palomp.

  “Some routine correspondence between the crown and the local lords, reports of border skirmishes further east and rumours of demon raids in Lenore”, Junen summarized.

  I didn’t care about any of that at the moment. “And you are certain there hasn't been any word from Tarth or Vret on hero summoning?” I pressed on about the only matter that interested me.

  “No raven has arrived from either country in the last three days. The ravenmaster’s deputy assured me”, Junen confirmed.

  “Perhaps the bird wandered off”, Owin pointed out.

  “With important correspondence, they always send a rider close behind the ravens, with the same message, because it’s in the birds’ nature to… wander off”. I tried to not show my disapproval in my voice.

  Junen interrupted me. “Your highness, why the sudden interest in the subject?”.

  I looked to Owin, who mouthed the words, ‘you can trust him’.

  “Perhaps I should tell you about my primer first. I’m sure you have heard of the rumours and the nickname they call me behind my back?”

  Junen nodded uncomfortably. I continued, “As you might have heard, I was born with a special primer for the mystic sense. I can sense mana and miasma, see the veil between the worlds and the collective weight of magic in a person. I have passive skills from my primer that benefit from having high intuition, and the understanding of the world that I gain from my skills feeds my intuition. They are in perfect synergy with each other. My intuition — both deduction and prediction — seamlessly affect my decision making”.

  “I wish I could see the world the way your highness does”, Junen replied, perhaps out of basic courtesy, rather than an actual desire.

  I proceeded to explain the events from three days ago. “When a hero is brought into this world, the veil between the worlds parts to allow the hero to pass through. We were on our way from the capital to Castle Wildencrest, when I saw the telltale signs of the ceremony — a noticeable tear in the distant horizon. No, a tear in the fabric of reality. It was unlike any I had witnessed before, with the cracks in reality taking hours to heal itself. Whatever came through, the weight of its magic, it stretched the gates to its limits”.

  Then, I raised the question that was in everyone’s mind. “The accords require all nations to self-report any hero summonings they carry out. So, why has no raven arrived with word?”

  This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.

  Going against the terms of a System-verified agreement would incur the System's penalties. Failing to inform everyone about the ritual was a violation. All the nations of the continent were signatories. The tentative alliance against the demons rested on it.

  “I tried to rely on my intuition for answers, but it was drawing up a blank. This is a matter way beyond the scope of my intuition and skills. But, that shouldn’t stop us from attempting to solve this the old fashioned way”. I rubbed my hands together, getting ready to unravel the mystery.

  Owin groaned. “There she goes again. This is what she does — all the time”.

  “What do you mean?”, Junen asked.

  “First, she will list all the possibilities that interest her, then she will debate over them extensively, formulate theories and suggest likely outcomes. This will go on for hours sometime, while I’m forced to listen. Nothing excites our intuition princess more than a mystery to solve”, Owin explained.

  I frowned. I hated that nickname. Quickly getting over it, I put the first piece of the puzzle into its proper place. “I couldn’t pinpoint the exact location of the tear, but I can narrow it down to the three nations surrounding the neutral zone”.

  “Why would Tarth hide the news about a hero summoning? They have summoned a dozen heroes this year. The strong do not need to hide their strength”. Owin had a point — Tarth wasn’t our main suspect.

  It didn’t make things better if it wasn’t Tarth. I shared my concern with the group, “If I noticed this, then that man in Tarth must have too. If Tarth suspects that one of the countries is secretly summoning heroes —”

  “ Then the entire continent will be embroiled in war in no time”, Owin finished that sentence for me.

  The mood became more sombre and we stood in silence for a moment.

  “Perhaps a blessing stone was stolen”, I offered another possibility to ease the tension. If the ceremony wasn’t sanctioned by a ruler, then it would make sense why no country claimed responsibility.

  “A common thief as the damsel of gates? I wouldn’t have thought of that possibility”, Junen replied, considering the scenario.

  Owen scoffed. “Certainly more qualified than any of the damsels of this kingdom”.

  Junen wasn’t sure what to make of Owin’s comment, so I explained, “Most of the blessing stones of our kingdom have gone to my brothers and they let one of their mistresses oversee the ceremony. It seems Owin does not have a high opinion of these women”.

  “Aye! They are all scheming, unpleasant women, after your brothers’ gold — not a single one of them worthy of the title of damsel of gates”, Owin confirmed.

  “It’s an honorary title at best”. I never understood why people made such a fuss over that title.

  “You underestimate the significance. It’s a title held in the highest esteem. For most common folk, the damsel is a saint that summons the hero”. Junen was quick to answer.

  “I couldn’t care less about the women who opened the doors, I worry about what came through”. I paused, before correcting myself, “That isn’t entirely true — I might care about who opened the door this time”.

  “Perhaps the stone was stolen at someone’s behest? Maybe the thief had a powerful backer”, Junen pitched his theory.

  Owin wasn’t entirely convinced. “To break into a nation’s vaults and steal a blessing stone — that’s not something an ordinary thief can manage. A powerful backer? Yes. But also a very shrewd thief”.

  Owin looked at me. “Princess, surely you have a more exciting theory than a stolen stone? I feel you are holding back. Let’s have the grand reveal”.

  They wanted excitement? I had just the right thing for it. I turned to the brown-haired man, “Junen, you must know the answer to this — what are the prevalent theories on the origins of demon lords? What does the church say?”

  “There is a lot of debate on the matter and not much consensus. The most widely agreed upon hypothesis is that one of the demon generals will ascend to the role of a demon lord when they —” He paused to look at me with an expression of shock. “Surely you aren’t suggesting that —” His voice trailed off.

  “What? What has the bothersome princess come up with now?”, an agitated Owin questioned, being the only one in the group to have not connected the dots.

  “The gods allow the light-aligned kingdoms to summon their heroes for this war. Surely they must allow a similar concession for the other side, for the sake of parity?” My statement left the two knights staring at me.

  Owin finally gathered enough composure to speak, “That’s a disturbing thought, princess. The idea that a demon lord was summoned—”

  “It would explain a lot of things — why we have received no word about this hero summoning, why the tear in the fabric of reality was unlike any I have witnessed before, why the demon lords appear seemingly out of nowhere”, I offered more arguments in favour of the theory.

  Owin gulped. “I really hope that your intuition isn’t driving you to these conclusions and that these are just fabrications of a bored mind”.

  Junen wasn’t faring any better. “Do you perhaps have a theory that doesn’t speak of war and destruction, or the birth of a demon lord? Something to rekindle hope?”

  I laughed. “You want to foolishly cling to hope?” I gave it some thought. “I might have something for that. A few years ago, a merchant visited the royal court. He had traveled to the eastern continent shortly before. In his travels, he had heard of a prophecy. The exact words are perhaps lost to the years, but if I have to do my best to put it into words —” I gave a dramatic pause to build up anticipation, and then leaned on my recall and intuition to help me remember. “My knights, here comes my best recreation of a half remembered prophecy — ‘Out of all the bloodshed and chaos, a stone was brought forth into this world. A stone like no other, large as a fist, paid for with the blood and sacrifice of our people. That stone birthed a hero. The hero of the eastern skies and the open seas’ . It was perhaps a prophecy that was passed down among the people of some seafaring race in the eastern continent”.

  “And you suspect what you saw three days ago marked the coming of this prophesied hero?”

  “Pay no mind to the prophecy. It’s absolute drivel, but I do believe that a larger than usual blessing stone existed at some point and that may have spawned a lot of rumours and stories around it. Over time, this may have taken the shape of a prophecy”, I clarified.

  “Why would a prophecy from the eastern continent have anything to do with a tear in our backyard?” Owin failed to see the significance.

  “It’s possible that more versions of the same prophecy exist in this continent, tailored differently for different nations and races”, I replied.

  “You suspect that the last line of the prophecy was replaced by others as they saw fit?” Junen was quick to catch up with my thinking.

  “Yes, while this version of the prophecy speaks of a hero for a seafaring race of people, the same prophecy for a different race might highlight the traits they value in a hero”, I explained.

  I took a bite of the grilled fish on my plate. The two knights were deep in thought. I had given them a lot to think about. Without enough evidence, they were all merely theories at this point.

  I switched attention to the other matter we came to discuss. “And our recruitment plans?”

  It was Junen who replied. “I have a contact in the guild who will tip me off. Most of the experienced adventurers have ties to various noble houses in Palomp. We are scraping at the bottom of the barrel here”.

  “Which is why we should focus on the newcomers. Unknown talent over unwanted talent”, I suggested. “What of the knights? Any defectors to our camp?”

  “There is disgruntlement in the third unit. They have been kept indefinitely on patrol duty at the outpost without relief”, Junen answered.

  “This fighting force you are assembling…” Owin stifled a laugh before continuing, “This mighty army of … dozens — is it meant to go up against your brother’s armies, or the entire demon horde?”

  “I am not sure what I am recruiting for”, I admitted. “My intuition has never let me down before, and it has strongly urged me to go down this path”.

  Owin laughed at my reasoning. “You just do whatever the hell your gut tells you to do, don’t you?”

  “You would trust your gut too, if it told you anything more than where to find the booze”, I replied instantly.

  “I think that is a fine use of my gut”. Owin raised his glass high to further stress his point.

  “Careful, you do not want your gut to have an over-inflated sense of ego — certainly won’t want to inflate it any more than the booze would”. I made sure the punchline was delivered right.

  Junen was doing his best to stay on his feet, desperately trying to hold back uncontrollable laughter. There was a clear winner that round.

  Once I saw that the audience had calmed, I continued, “When my brother suggested that I leave the capital, when I was told to pick my own prison for exile —” Owin coughed to interrupt me. “Politely requested to relocate”, he corrected me with a smug smile.

  I glared at him. “When I was politely requested to relocate”, I made sure to enunciate every word before continuing, “I could’ve gone to a different town or opted for a rustic life in the country, but I was guided by my intuition to come here – to Palomp, of all places”.

  “How I wish your intuition had driven us to the sandy beaches of Luempwen instead”, Owin replied with a sigh.

  “This place isn’t so bad”, Junen objected.

  I turned to Owin. “If you can trust me with your carrots and mushrooms, you can trust me with this too”. Owin didn’t respond, but he was certainly considering my words.

  We went back to eating. Once his plate was empty, Owin broke the silence, “We must get back to the banquet hall, before your absence becomes a talking point, princess”. Yeah, they would notice if the guest of honour went missing.

  Junen turned to leave, but quickly made a parting comment, “I will continue to keep an eye on the mail”. Junen hesitated and then added, “And I will look for other versions of the prophecy. If it is as you say, then —”

  I cut him off, “ I suspect you won't find it. Even if you do, it won’t be soon enough”.

  “What do you mean?”

  “When it comes to events that can alter the course of the world, the system has a way of obscuring that information, much the same way it clouds up my intuition this time. To glean things that can affect the outcome of events yet to come, is to go against the natural flow of time. There is often resistance. A greater resistance is a sign of what’s at stake”, I explained.

  Junen was lost in thought. Then, he looked up with a smile, “When Owin came to pitch the idea of siding with you, he told me that the princess will likely brew up a storm and that I would still regret it if I didn’t hitch my wagon to your cause. I think I made the right choice”. He bowed and made his exit.

  Once he was certain Junen disappeared beyond the hearing range, Owin pleaded with me, “Princess, I have to know — were any of those theories guided by your intuition?”

  “The system is playing this one close to its heart. I’m stumbling in the dark without my intuition to light the way. Did my intuition lead me by the hand to the answers I was seeking – passively without my knowledge? I might never know”.

  I made my way back to the banquet hall, with my knight close behind me. Smack in the middle of the room, in a makeshift dining area prepared just for him, the Marquess feasted on his meal. He spat out the carrots in his mouth and complained to the servants loud enough for everyone to hear, “The carrots are undercooked”.

  Owin turned to look at me wide-eyed. I gave him a smug smile. “I just have to trust my intuition”, I told myself.