There was an impossibly long table in the dining hall. Danver walked them all past the empty table to the few plated seats at the very end. It was enough for the six members on one side and six members on the other side. The king’s spot was at thehead of the table.

  “Quite intimate,” Kip joked.

  “Yes, we have an extra-long table for when we have a big feast, the king does love his feasts. Now, the king will be here shortly. We shall serve you some amuse-bouche while you wait.”

  Danver clapped his hands, and a servant for every person appeared, placing their plate right on the table in front of them. It was a small yellow bird, completely intact with it’s beak open and eyes closed.

  “Wow.” Said Kip as he picked up the bird, “Very interesting…”

  “Cooked alive,” Said Danver, “It’s a delicacy. Largely outlawed because to maintain the population but… we have our fun.” He said it with a tiny smile as he sat down on the other side of the table.

  “Ah, our guests of honor,” Said Danver. The three battered people from the races came in. Their clothes had been changed but there were still sing marks on their bodies. They sat down at the table and politely thanked Danver for the invite. They reached their arms across the table and Kip’s crew shook hands, or sometimes tails or sometimes little tufts of clouds. The cloud could not be shaken that well but the point was still received and everybody sort of walked away assuming it was good enough.

  “Please, take a seat,” Said Danvers smiling.

  The three took their seats, and Kip’s crew sat down too.

  Then, a presence was felt. Danver looked backward and saw who was approaching. He turned and frantically said, “Stand up.”

  “We just sat down,” said Stormbristle.

  “I. Don’t. Care. Stand up. Now.”

  Confused, all the other dinner patrons stood up.

  “C-clap. Yes, that feels correct. Clap, please!” Danver said as he started an applause.

  Kip and the crew looked around and started awkwardly clapping. The king came out. He waved his hand, “No need for all that.”

  He had an easy smile on him and approached with open arms at Kip. Kip thought he might be going for a hug so he stood up and spread his arms too, but as the king got closer, he rested one hand to his side and offered a handshake. Kip had to pivot quickly, shifting to a stance that he was also going to give a handshake.

  “If it isn’t the new Dark Lord,” Said the King Sezemi.

  “King Sezemi, I presume!”

  “That’s right. And you… are Kip the Kobold.”

  “Uh… yes. But I have a last name.”

  “Kip the Kobold, put her there!” King Sezemi stuck his other hand out.

  Kip received it. The king shook his tiny arm heartily. Shaking Kip’s whole body with it.

  “I appreciate the invitation, King Sezemi.”

  “Are you kidding? The banter with the wanted posters? I said ‘I have got to meet this little guy.’ I told my advisor, ‘what’s this kid’s name?’ And told him, ‘I’ve got to meet this guy.’”

  They stopped shaking, but the energy was too electric, “Sorry.. I’m a hugger. Get in here,” And the king reached in and hugged Kip, then picked him up.

  “No problem, my last girlfriend was a hugger as well,” Kip said, his face muffled in the King’s robes, “Seems that’s all she ever wanted to do.”

  “You hear this guy?! He’s hilarious!” Said the king, “Come, everyone have a seat.”

  They all went back and had their seats. The king acknowledged the team from ‘The Floor Is Lava” and he dug into his amuse bouche.

  “How was the trip out?” The king asked, “I see you’ve brought an eclectic group of friends.”

  “Yes!” Kip said, “This is-”

  “My! An elf!” Said The king as he stared at Baela’s form. Lala shifted uncomfortably in her seat, not realizing that being an elf might draw more attention, “My, they are rare here. That’s so interesting. Your face… come, switch seats with the with the boar. I’d love it if you got a little closer to me.”

  “Uhm… okay.” Said Lala. Kip turned to look at the King, in an effort to distract him, said, “I noticed one plate is missing. Was that supposed to go to Ironwood?” Kip asked.

  “Hm? Oh, yes. We invited him to every dinner. Always set a place at the table. Gods, I know the audience loves him but when he’s such a dreadful dinner guest you can’t imagine.”

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  “Y-your highness,” Said Danver.

  The king looked at him. Danver pointed to the open door. Ironwood was standing there. They were still donning their armor. Each step they took echoed the metal boots on the stone tile. Ironwood pulled the chair and sat down at the table.

  “Ironwood!” Said the king, turning his attention away from Lala, “Come! Have a seat! I’ve got the spot right next to me. Move Danver. They’re about to serve the first course. How the hell are you going to eat with that helmet on?” He asked.

  Ironwood did not say anything. They merely stood up out of their seat and walked up to Danvers. Danver stared up at Ironwood, and then at the king, “Well… fine then.” Danver moved to the seat at the far end.

  “An elf. In ulmund, can you believe it, Ironwood?” asked Sezemi, “What a dish, right? Had I known she was coming I might have served her as a course.”

  “That’s enough,” Said Kip.

  The king turned to Kip. Ironwood turned. Danver looked. Everyone at the table looked and so did the servants.

  “That’s enough… talking! Let’s get on with the delicious food! That’s why we’re here, isn’t it?”

  The king’s sour face softened, “I like the way this guy thinks! Danver, send out the next two courses at the same time!”

  Danver was frazzled, “B-but but sir! They’re both meat dishes! Surely, if we send them out, our guests will fill themselves.”

  “Do not make me tell you again. Send out both meat dishes.”

  “O-okay,” Then Danver turned to the monster crew, “Just eat some ginger before your bites. Clear the palette, I implore you.”

  Stormbrislte looked him dead in the eyes and said, “no.”

  The two meat dishes came out. One was a rabbit leg, seared with honey and served with dates, including a date sauce that surrounded the dish. The second dish was pheasant. Specifically peacock, served with it’s plumage still on and with boiled potatoes. Tamas dug in, eating the leg of rabbit like it was a chicken drumstick, with little refrain or polity. The king pointed to the satyr and said, “I like this guy too. No sense of decadence. Or civility. I love. This. Guy. Let’s get to it.”

  So, they indulged. The guests were starving from the previous events. Ironwood did not touch their meal. Lala, uncomfortable by the silence, noticed Ironwood staring right at her. Lala smiled at ironwood, making sure to keep smile in the eyes as well as she ate the food. She gently cut the rabbit open with her knife but could not stop noticing Ironwood was staring directly at her through the helmet mask. She turned to Ironwood and said, “Great show today.”

  Ironwood did not say anything.

  “Really, you did a number on that poor ogre. I hope he’s okay.”

  “So,” Kip said to the king, “We are so very happy we were invited to dinner. Seems that our two kingdoms should learn to coexist more. Considering we are neighbors.”

  The king let out a grunt as he finished his wine. A servant was already there to fill it up.

  “How have you found leading?” The king asked through a full mouth.

  Kip let out a deep breath, “Truthfully, hard. Very hard. It seems there’s one problem after another. Like… I’m constantly building a staircase upward and the stairs are falling behind me… and the only thing I can do is keep building upward or I’m through. Do you feel like that?”

  The king stopped eating. He stared right into Kip’s eyes, “Yes. Yes, that’s exactly how I feel. I knew I was going to relate to you. You. Are. Awesome.”

  KIp smiled, “Wow, I’m so glad we could find some common ground. And I’m glad you’re enjoying all of us. What are some of the most pressing problems right now?”

  “War with Kashu. We’ve been at war since before Queen Cheken and I were even royalty. The historians are asking us to end the war by the end of this year so they could dub this ‘The 50 years war’ although it likely won’t happen.”

  “My,” Kip said, “That sounds difficult.”

  “Yes. They’ve already started printing the history books so that’s going to be a tough meeting. What about you?”

  Kip politely avoiding speaking on the pressure from the king’s own forces surrounding Shangra, “Not my most pressing issue, but my most recent is I have this magical prodigy.”

  “Prodigy?” The king asked, “That doesn’t sound like a problem.”

  “Yes, it shouldn't be… the thing is, he’s a water mage. And… well, there isn’t a water mage in the homestead that could teach them. So we’re left with this problem of: how do we help our youth shine as best they can?”

  “Hmm. Youth. Next course.”

  The servants took the plates away and brought out an aromatic onion soup..

  “Thank you. But I think about what I could do with him. How much good he could do the magic community if he just learned.. And it makes me think… wait! I know who has the best magic school! Steerboil! Steerboil is the best magic school and, in fact, there was a time when people across different countries could apply! Doesn’t that sound like a lovely idea?”

  The king washed down his full mouth with his whole onion soup in one go and put it down, “Ah. That… is complicated.”

  Lala kept trying to eat but felt the presence of the stoic across the table with their arms crossed. Once again, Lala tried to flash a smile to the knight. Ironwood uncrossed their hands and reached out across the table at Lala. Lala flinched, and Ironwood stopped their hand, as if beckoning Lala to come back. Lala reluctantly allowed Ironwood to approach with their fingers and pulled Lala’s blonde hair back behind her ears, revealing her scar. Lala quickly jerked her head back and covered her scar again.

  “It’s a childhood wound.”

  Danver grabbed Ironwood’s hand and jerked it back, “Do not touch a lady’s scar. You should be ashamed of yourself, Ironwood. Not at all respectful of the King’s table.”

  The king burped loudly after finishing the soup. He looked at Kip.

  “It’s a matter of what’s best for unity, no?”

  “How do you mean?”

  “Your prodigy… won’t fit in at the culture of Steerboil. They won’t be liked. They’ll be outcast and ridiculed. And the other children… we must protect them from you lot. I love you guys. You know that, but… but let’s face it. You’re responsible for the deaths of so many of our sons and fathers and mothers and daughters. Wouldn’t you agree?”

  Kip’s eye twitched, “I believe the same could be said of you, sire. In fact, I’d say you’ve killed more of us than we have of you.”

  “Me personally?” The king asked, swinging his arm in a faux sword, “I personally killed your mother? Did you see me swing the axe?”

  “No. I suppose you didn’t personally.” Said Kip, losing his patience, “But the matter at hand is a boy who wants to learn. Who aslo hasn’t personally killed anyone.”

  “The answer is a respectable no. You understand, don’t you?”

  Kip shook his head, but didn’t say anything.

  “It’s what’s best! Now, we’re about to get to the main course. I should hope the give of you still have rooms in your bellies!”

  “Five of us?” Kip said, “No, there should be-”

  He looked and saw the last plate empty, no servings. He counted his party and noticed someone missing.

  “Akun?” Kip asked Lala, “Akun’s not in his seat. He’s not here.”

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