169 Three Years Can Do A Lo (1/2)
Three figures stepped into the conference room and saluted Velvund as soon as they laid eyes on him. Although they were nobility of the North, none of them had enough status to ignore the former King of the North's presence.
Velvund waved his left hand and said, ”Come now, don't be so rigid, you three. I would never hold my grandson's darling friends to such formalities. Please, come in and take a seat.”
The first to respond was her, the one in between what seemed to be her personal escorts -- the other two fellows in military uniforms. She had grown considerably since Reed had last seen her, to the point his mind froze when he laid eyes on her. In truth, she had always been a humble beauty in her own right, different from the cold, elegant flower that Astrid had been.
If Astrid had been a frozen rose and Lu'um a fiery sunflower, then Ophelia would have been best described as a tender lily. Out of the three of them, she had always been the most balanced in all respects, which was something Reed always found particularly endearing.
She might not have been an Ancient Mulian princess, but it never seemed to have stopped her from catching the attention of other trainees during the days at the Spire. There was something to be said about that feat, which few ever recognized.
But she had changed. Ophelia was no longer the tender lily Reed once remembered. She had completely bloomed, to such an extent that almost did not recognize her. Were it not for her warm, almond-blonde eyes, he would have never made the connection.
Her sweet, homely features had matured dramatically. No longer could she be called a hidden, overshadowed flower. Her full, red lips had a frightening ability to pull in his attention. Before Reed was a mature, young woman that had developed a... motherly appearance about her in a variety of ways.
It took all of Reed's willpower not to stare at her well endowed, motherly... assets. Lu'um was no slouch herself, but Ophelia was clearly in her own weight class. Reed confidently came to the conclusion that she had even beat the reigning champion, Violett, at her own game. There was a new overlord atop the mountain of womanly virtues... and it was Ophelia.
Ophelia, surprisingly, was the only one of the three that come without a military uniform. Instead, she wore formal civilian clothes and a large, black overcoat that had a golden brooch of some sort pinned on it.
It was a shiny brooch of a golden moon that had a small red gemstone embedded on it in the of a drop of blood. It certainly had some major significance in the North, but Reed was unaware as he knew next to nothing on the matter.
The other two had undergone transformations that were no less amazing than Ophelia's.
Astor's long, golden mane had grown considerably since their last meeting. His charming, princely features had also developed well. Reed mused over the fact that there was now an actual semblance of a kingly lion to his natural visage. Although it was indubitably regal and majestic to gaze upon, Reed wondered how much work it took to maintain that sort of hairstyle.
Horatio seemed to have changed the most of the three, though. The last Reed had seen him, the stoic fellow had sported a no-nonsense crew cut reminiscent of a freshly conscripted recruit. That clean-cut image had been destroyed in totality with the arrival of the present-day Horatio.
His dark, ruffled hair drooped down to his shoulders, which completely threw Reed off. If that wasn't enough, the scruffy beard on his chin also contributed to Reed's initial confusion. His deep, black eyes held a calm and pure serenity to them, as if they had been trained to see the past the filth of the world.
Had it not been for the fact that Astor and Ophelia were present, Reed would have never made the connection as to who the brooding man in black could have been...
The fluctuations coming off of Horatio seemed to suggest that he was probably on the verge of being able to attempt what was impossible for contenders. He was well on his way towards crossing over and become a conqueror. One could only imagine the herculean efforts the young man must have made to have been rewarded by the Will of the World so excessively.