The stars glistened and swam in glorious, clear positions. Finally, what is rightfully mine shall be regained.

Ladon, with his ever present mischevious grin, gave the clear signal to Vincent, who glided accross streets of the small village to the back of Lord Richard’s towering mansion.

“This is where you go in” Said Ladon, pointing to the rope attached to a tree branch hanging from outside the houses’ territory.

“Good friend! You do not expect me to climb this rope like a young uncultured ruffian who has too many lazy afternoons?”

“Oh! But Vincent!” Ladon clasped his hands together and bowed his head. “I did not choose any vulgar ropes for your magnificence, this is a very special rope.A rope that many generations of aristocrats have blended and climbed. It is an insult that anyone other than yourself shall climb this.”

“Indeed, you are truly a wise one friend Ladon, my heart soars with joy knowing that you are helping the cause of sophistication and exposing the frauds.”

Vincent grabed the rope, the style and texture of the rope concealed the fingertips of many fine men and women of the past who have used it. An exquisite rope, Vincent regretted the fact that he had to let it go to enter the mansion.

The nobilic spirit of the aristocrat mansion was not in the mansion. It was a magnificent mansion, if it had claimed to be less than aristocratic, Vincent would have agreed. But the floor were not pure tiles, the paintings were drawn by unrefined people and the bookshelves and piano were an inch away from where they should be.

“This is unacceptable” Whispered Vincent. “Is this a ballroom or a library? Why are the piano and bookshelves facing each other? And an inch away from their usual place. There is no doubt in my soul Lord Richard is a poser! Imagine, an inch away from their usual place!”

Melody filled the air, a melody which was fine, but uncomparable to the beauty of Kasios’ exquisite music. A pair of ghostly hand twirled out of nothingness to continue to play as the spirit of noblemen and women of old gathered in a ghostly dance.

“Has Lord Richard applied the forces of the spirit world to aid him in his quest of pseudo sophistication?” Vincent asked.

“Lord Richard’s place? Sorry, wrong mansion” And with that, all the ghosts disapear like the appeared.

The gallery of paintings. Vincent was frozen dead in his tracks as if cement had hardened on his foot. The painting he was staring at with utter disgust was the famous painting of Ivanov and his illustrations of the heros of the Hearts in Passion of the Rose’s Empire battle.

“This is truly a tragic date for the world of asethic beautiful art.”

Vincent examined the picture, an illustration of all his dear friends. But his dearest friends and himself were nowhere to be found.

“Ivanov has clearly outspoken and rebelled against the cultural elite many times in the past. It comes to no surprise this travesty should happen. It is a shame he cannot comprehend what damage he has done. Now, the sea of the future shall never know the true heros of the Hearts in Passion of the Rose’s Empire battle- Milich, Kasios Esmeralda and I. It is unfortunate that dearest Olivia has yet to be recognized as the true artist she is, and is passed off for this imposter painter.”

Vincent took off, knowing well that the waves off time shall sweep away this horrible excuse for art. And that Olivia shall be recognized as true genuis and Milich Kasios Esmeralda and he shall be known as the true heros of the fated battle of the Hearts in Passion of the Rose’s Empire.

Lord Richard’s mansion disobeyed all rules of aristocratic nobility. The stair case was not spiral and the carpet was blue. The windows were centimeters smaller than any true exalted mansion would be. Worst of all, the house bore no roses. It is fortunate Esmeralda was not in this place, or surly she would have fainted from the utter shock of it all.

Vincent de Boule found it tragic that his comme il faut self should be exposed to such a place. But in one of the many rooms, he had found a savat sword. Dear friend Milich had taught him how to use these, and it’s far too noble to stay in thise house, so Vincent took it as his civilized duty to remove it from the premises and give it to it’s rightful owner- himself.

The critique raged on through the halls of Lord Richard’s house. Vincent wondered how anyone could have thought this man was true gentleman.Lord Richard’s bedroom door hung at the end of the final corridor. Ladon had told Vincent that is where the pure white rose of passion glowed in perfect radience.

Vincent scanned the bedroom to note another critique about this dreadful mansion. And he found the windows to be too close to the bed, such a fatal mistake. But there glowed the white rose, next to the bedroom.

Lord Richard was also there, sleeping peacefuly, and un gentlemen like, in his bed. The rose was close to Lord Richard’s slumber, but Vincent had done this before, in his frolicing days of youth, he would go to the dragon knight’s den and decorate the vulgar green dragons with roses and daisies.

This is the final act with this Lord Richard, once I have what is rightfully mine I shall pursue the...

The lump in bed grumbled, snorted, and got up, whining all the way. Vincent went to grab the rose when the Lord returned to full consciousness and caught him.

“H...How dare you! Entering the house of the magnificent Lord Richard Wilkians William Mason Vaction Henry Mcgregerson Allistair the 3rd! WHO do you think you are?”

Vincent smiled and looked into the cieling. “Why am I? I was hoping you would ask that question. Well, you see, I am the magnificent Vincent of the house of the noble de Boule, prodigial son of Anna and Francios de Boule, born and raised in the these lovely countries in the town of.....”

15 minutes later.

“.... and then, Kasim, who was not aware of my important status, thought of me as a common theif and threw me in the jail of...”

“Augh! Stop! It is not wise to anger me, Lord Richard Wilkians William Mason Vaction Henry Mcgregerson Allistair the 3rd!”

“Good sir, I am sure your attempts are innocent jest. For immiation is the highest form of flattery, but you are messing with forces you comprehend not. It is unwise to destroy the fabric of brilliant bloodlines.”

“You dare say I belong to the common folk? Me?! Lord Richard Wilkians William Mason Vaction Henry Mcgregerson Allistair the 3rd” Lord Richard stopped a few seconds, catching his breath. “If it is anyone who shall dare frolic with those simpletons it is you, for I, know the locations of the Jardin au couer du minuit.”

“Where does such an eden lie?”

“Why should I tell you?” Angered beyond point of supression, Lord Richard prounced out of bed and went to grab his sword. “en garde! vile ruffian!”

“Excellent, nothing like friendly competition between two people to get the spirits singing in delight. But dear friend Milich, the creme de la creme of fencing, has taught me well.”

Vincent and Lord Richard drew out their weapons, setting off the initial clash between blades. The battle ensued, and both were evenly matched (ie, not very good) when Vincent’s rose rune emited the same pink red glow. The effects of the rune, however, united with his blade and united in flowery glory. Vincent picked up and sword and completed three turns around Lord Richard, showering him with roses.

Lord Richard sat on the ground, defeated.

“What? Has the savat done that?” Explained Lord Richard in astomishment. “It only recognizes true noblemen to do that attack. I am truly defeated.”

“So.. shall you tell me where the fabled garden exists?”

“Y...yes... it is beyond the forest village in the city states of Jowston. But you shall not escape, my guards shall catch you.”

“The guards have been invited by dear friend Ladon for a cup of tea. After tasting it’s heavenly nectar they shall be sent to the world of pleasurable dreams.”