The Apostle of Insanity

The day had slipped away quickly, and now the sound of carriage wheels echoed through the silence of a tree-lined country road. Inside the carriage, Nora watched Azarel, his face partially turned toward the window, his gaze distant and unfocused as he took in the passing landscape.

The evening light filtered through the velvet curtains, casting soft shadows across his face. She sighed, clearly overwhelmed by the day's events.

"Are you really serious?" she asked suddenly.

Azarel turned his head slowly toward her. "This is the umpteenth time you've asked me that, Nora." A faint smile played on his lips. "And my answer hasn't changed: I'm always serious."

Nora frowned, her irritation clear. She could tell he was toying with her, deliberately keeping her in the dark, and it infuriated her. Straightening slightly in her seat, she crossed her arms with a frustrated pout.

"You're doing this on purpose, aren't you?" she snapped, her voice rising. "This isn't about being serious or not. I'm talking about that... the summons! Only those invited can attend. You weren't invited. So why are you so confident you'll just waltz in without a hitch?"

Azarel met her glare calmly, his smile never wavering. Leaning forward slightly, he rested his elbows on his knees, his hands clasped loosely together.

"I gave you the words to send, didn't I?"

Nora nodded, still confused. "Yes, but that doesn't explain why you're so relaxed. I sent your message, like you asked, but that guarantees nothing. That's not how the Shadows work."

Azarel shrugged nonchalantly. "If I explained everything now, it would ruin the fun. Trust me, you'll enjoy it much more if you discover things as they unfold. And me? I'll enjoy the ride."

Nora let out a long, exasperated sigh. "You're unbearable, you know that?" she muttered, shaking her head.

Azarel chuckled, a light but genuine laugh that seemed to resonate through the wooden walls of the carriage. "I'll take that as a compliment. Thank you, Nora."

She stayed silent for a moment, her irritation simmering. Finally, she broke the quiet again. "And your family? Do you really think you can just leave without telling them? You didn't warn anyone."

Azarel arched a brow, a flash of indifference flickering in his eyes. "It doesn't matter," he said dismissively. "This trip is worth it. And if everything goes as planned, I won't need to depend on them anymore."

Nora gave a wry smile at his words. "So, you're not even sure everything will go as planned? You're diving into something this risky without certainty?"

Azarel shrugged lazily. "Nothing is ever certain in life, Nora. But that's where the thrill lies—in uncertainty, in risk. If I succeed, great. If not, well... we improvise."

Nora rolled her eyes skyward, clearly unimpressed by his answer.

Leaning closer, Azarel's grin widened. "But isn't that why you're here? To keep me in check when I need it?"

Nora opened her mouth to protest but stopped herself at the last second. He wasn't entirely wrong.

She sighed one last time and crossed her arms, turning her gaze to the window. "You'd better make this worth it."

Azarel chuckled softly, leaning back into his seat.

The carriage trundled along the dirt road, its wheels creaking over bumps and ruts, making the journey feel endless. The landscape outside passed by like a living painting animated by the breeze. Golden fields stretched far and wide, still kissed by the final rays of sunlight, rippling gently in the wind. Sparse clusters of trees dotted the horizon, with humble farms nestled under the shadow of distant hills, thick with dense forests.

The crisp air carried the scent of pine, damp grass, and earth—a stark reminder that autumn was in full swing.

Sitting in the carriage, Azarel gazed absentmindedly at the scenery, trying to estimate how much farther they had to travel. His thoughts wandered, occasionally touching on the events that had led him here. Across from him, Nora stared outside as well, though her expression carried less impatience and more restrained annoyance.

Breaking the long silence, Azarel straightened slightly and began tapping the armrest with his fingertips. He turned to her. "Are we still far?"

Nora glanced at him, masking an amused smile. He looked like a restless child on a long journey, a far cry from the mysterious and assured aura he'd maintained earlier.

"The summons is in Lyrs, one of the neighboring cities near the capital. We'll be there soon, so be patient. We're moving fast as it is."

Azarel arched a brow, smirking sarcastically. "Ah, the joys of medieval travel." He crossed his arms, his face slipping into a mock pout.

Nora frowned, her voice skeptical. "Medieval? What do you mean by that?"

Azarel shook his head with a soft laugh. "Never mind, it's a comment you wouldn't understand." Leaning back against the padded wall of the carriage, he closed his eyes. "Wake me when we arrive."

He prepared to doze off, and Nora watched him for a moment, then shrugged and turned her attention back to the scenery outside.

The twilight now cast a golden glow over the world, stretching the shadows of trees and hills. The sky, awash in hues of orange and pink, was slowly surrendering to the coming night.

As the carriage gradually approached the city gates, Nora straightened in her seat, casting a final glance at Azarel. He remained calm and reclined, eyes still closed. She hesitated before letting out a quiet sigh.

"We're almost there," she said softly.

Azarel opened one eye, his lips curling into a faint smirk. "Finally."

The carriage came to a halt outside a grand hotel. Its white stone façade gleamed under the soft glow of large golden lanterns, and its expansive windows radiated warm, inviting light. Manicured gardens framed the entrance, their pristine hedges and flowerbeds lending the scene a fairy-tale charm.

Azarel hopped out with graceful ease, stretching as if he'd just woken from a long nap. Nora, still seated, stared at the imposing structure, her expression a mix of awe and skepticism.

"This is a bit… excessive, don't you think?" she said, frowning as her eyes scanned the lavish building.

Azarel, casually retrieving their single piece of luggage, shrugged. "Don't worry. I put everything under my family's name." His nonchalant tone made Nora's irritation flare.

She stepped out of the carriage, following him through the intricately carved wooden doors. Inside, the hotel's opulence surpassed even her expectations.

A colossal crystal chandelier dominated the grand hall, its countless facets reflecting the gentle candlelight like scattered stars. Plush carpets adorned the floors, their intricate patterns complementing the room's marble columns, which rose to meet an intricately painted ceiling.

Azarel strode ahead as if this level of luxury was second nature to him. At the reception desk, a polished dark-wood counter, he exchanged a few quick words with the sharply dressed concierge. Moments later, a key was handed to him.

Nora approached, fully expecting her own key. To her surprise, the concierge gave her an apologetic smile, as if bracing for the inevitable reaction.

"I'm sorry, miss, but only one room has been reserved."

Her jaw dropped. She slowly turned her head toward Azarel, who was already halfway up the grand staircase, entirely unfazed.

"What?! One room?!" she exclaimed, her voice carrying through the grand hall and drawing a few curious stares.

Azarel stopped mid-step, glancing over his shoulder with an amused expression. "Two rooms would've been a luxury. I have to be mindful of expenses, you know. Wouldn't want to bankrupt myself."

Nora's eyes widened in disbelief, her frustration boiling over. She clenched her fists, trying to suppress her growing anger but failing miserably. "You have to be kidding me," she snapped, marching toward the stairs. "You just said everything is on your family's tab! If you're so concerned about costs, why didn't you book a simpler place with two rooms? That would've made way more sense!"

Azarel chuckled lightly. "Where's the fun in that? Why keep things simple when you can make them… interesting?" He resumed climbing without missing a beat, his voice light and teasing. "Now come on, don't dawdle. We have plenty to discuss."

Nora glared at him, knowing full well any argument would fall on deaf ears. With a huff, she followed him up the stairs.

When they reached their floor, she stopped in front of the door, arms crossed and lips pressed tight with annoyance. Azarel slid the key into the lock and pushed the door open. He stepped aside and gestured theatrically.

"After you," he said with a playful grin.

Nora walked past him without a word.

The room, unsurprisingly, was nothing short of extravagant. A grand canopy bed stood at the center, draped in luxurious silks and piled high with plush pillows. The walls were adorned with paintings by obscure but talented artists, while a large window offered an unobstructed view of the illuminated gardens below.

Nora glanced around, letting out an exasperated sigh. "Seriously? You couldn't settle for something less… ostentatious?"

Azarel had already claimed one of the armchairs near the window, lounging with one leg casually draped over the armrest. He shrugged. "I told you, everything's under my family's name. Searching for a cheaper hotel would've been a waste of time."

She fixed him with an exasperated glare. "If that were true, we could've afforded two rooms. But of course, that would've been too logical for you, wouldn't it?"

Azarel leaned his head on his hand, a mischievous smile curling his lips. "Where's the excitement in logic?"