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Chapter 16
The coarse sound bugged Ezabel down to her stomach. It had not been this way in quite some time. And, while she did not believe herself to be the most dainty of women, she still preferred to maintain a modicum of self care. So before walking off, she made a point of thoroughly brushing her long, black locks. What mattered was not how they looked against her shoulders, but that they did not tangle and become a nuisance. Especially now that she had made her way into the nearby small assembly of wagons.
The life of the camp had died down considerably, but the smells and sounds of the night were still very much present. Lanterns hung on the various corners of carts and wagons; some were natural while others were clearly sealstone infused. Their flames were far brighter than their counterparts. Yet, their arrangement provided a curious layout of light. It was reminiscent of a busy town road and of the many people that would walk it.
Of course, a large town road full of people was not something that Ezabel was familiar with. If this camp was anything like one, she could not tell. She had only imagined them and always thought of how they would make her feel. And, considering that she stood without as much as a perked brow, she must have been late to the turnout. The aroma of hot soup lingered about, but the wagon responsible for it was already in the midst of cleaning up. The serving station was folded and most everything was being stored away. Even the ‘Bar Cart’, as it was so apparently titled across its side, was in the process of packing away its tables. The barrels were wiped and every mug had been retrieved.
It was all too similar to the small market that the people of Alm had set up every now and again to sell their harvest. Or rather, it was closer to the way they all tore down their stalls when it ended. - The majority of the camp had retired to their tents. There was nothing left for her to bother. A shame, as she at least hoped for a taste of the wares she had seen earlier in the evening. There was always a chance that these merchants looked to sell something fun, or better yet, something rare and mysterious.
She thought perhaps, that it was all for the better. Distractions were not needed during such an important time. Her focus was far too easy to break and she knew that better than anyone else. Soon, she found herself seated on a wooden bench that the Bar Cart had yet to collect. It was there that her thoughts were swept into a pool of conjecture.
There were notions of subtle joy and excitement. Gracewind, the largest city in all of Ardyn was soon to come. Even under a thin coat, the idea of getting lost among its long roads gave her goosebumps. There were so many different places in the capital that she had read about. All of which were places that she hoped to visit. If not for their respective merits, then for the stories they were associated with. At the top of her list was the Amber Rapids, where the width of the Amber River crashes down a mighty peak. It is said to run through the city’s western half and showers it in a clear mist.
More importantly, the storied waterfall was a pivotal location in a recent book she had read. Where ‘Ganlo the Devil’ leapt off in his escape from the city guard, never to be seen again. He was the antagonist, and while Ezabel did not root for him, she found his escapades to be quite riveting.
The Citadel would have been her first choice, normally. However, as she was hoping to become an Attendant, it was a place that already waited in her path. Its glimmering towers and illustrious halls were always at the forefront of her imagination. But, while they typically bathed her in hope, they now brought a wave of unease. She tried to pick away at the dagger that had been fastened against her belt earlier in the evening. But, there was nothing on its hilt to fidget with. It was smooth and bore no scratches at all. Even the cords against its handle were wrapped so tightly that there was no give.
When Ezabel felt the futility, she looked back at her own camp. It was on the far side of the dell but remained visible by its campfire. Leland had wandered off soon after she had, and Dani looked to be near sleep. The thought of being sponsored was finally beginning to settle. It was a noteworthy feat that only proved to further the curiosities she had about Leland, captain of the Order. What was he capable of? What was his story? What did he mean when he said that he ‘lost a bet’?
It all served to remind her of the fact that Xavier had also become a captain. It was truly an era she was not at all familiar with. Every one of her books told only of a time that had long since passed. All the names she had studied and admired were no longer relevant. When it came to Ardyn’s current era, they were as helpful to her as a potato. - It all suddenly felt like a waste.
This tale has been unlawfully obtained from Royal Road. If you discover it on Amazon, kindly report it.
A calm breeze combed through the distant canopy and pulled her eyes away, just as it did to the leaves. She followed it until her gaze came across the stone structures that lined the rock face nearby. Shadows were abundant along their shapes when she first saw them. Now, the moonlight drifted even further away and the buildings could hardly be made out save for a keen eye. Or, a soft light that shone against one. Ezabel caught a glimpse of a torch along the base of the cliff, where the lowest of the ruins stood. It floated about at the entrance then disappeared within.
°°
At best, it took about ten minutes for Ezabel to be through the woods. Though the campsite could still be heard to some degree, she had gone a decent distance from it. Strangely enough, she was quick to find a path that led to the bottom of the sheer cliff and took to it without much thought. Never before had she read anything about the structures ahead. Not that she would have been expected too. Yet, the way in which they remained unknown was alluring. To have seen a torch nearby only gave her another reason to check it out. Perhaps another person was there and shared the same interest.
The path ran straight and curved only when it needed to bend around a reaching tree. In spite of that, it still proved a bit difficult to traverse. A river of sprightly white flowers had bloomed down the entire trail. Ezabel had concentrated her efforts in avoiding them, which itself proved to be a tedious task. They were fresh and filled the pale grove with an uplifting scent. Who was she to stomp on any of them?
What was a sprinkling of white petals eventually became a wide clearing full of them. They had flowered atop a host of wild hedges that led straight to the foot of the cliff. There, the remnants of a bygone tower was built into the rock. Despite its broken state, there remained a grandeur all about it. And, it was plain to see that it had once been a mighty spire with a great hall at its foundation. - But, left now amidst the flowering woods was a broken circle. It was without a roof nor was it complete with walls. Yet, there were pieces of its old shape that were embedded along the cliff face above, each of which told of its former, imposing height.
With a heedful step, Ezabel made her way until she could touch the stone directly. She placed a flat palm against the cold surface of the short, tumbled wall and peered over. There was suddenly a difference in the floor of the tower’s interior. At the entrance, dirt became stone, where old pillars had collapsed long ago. Nature had returned to the hall and the outside flowers bloomed just as well within. In fact, they sprouted between tight spaces and pure rock. Even the crumbled walls were not free of their fair touch.
It was a bed of green and white, like a field surrounded by a forgotten fence. There was an enchanting aura about the site, as if it existed apart from the rest of the valley and its presence was unknown to all but those who stood on it. Here, breathing felt simpler and sight was far more effortless. - Torch light flickered from behind a pillar on the opposite end of the hall. Ezabel tilted her head and stepped through the entrance. Tall grass had grown through the floor for long enough that they curved in on themselves. Her legs brushed against each patch.
It was impossible to avoid stepping on the flowers here, but that concern had gone from her mind the moment she entered. A soft tune came from around the same pillar, hummed quietly by someone she could not see. She moved closer until she came to a clearing in the foliage. It was there that the torches’ glow was strongest. It had been tied against the stone column and brought light to a man that was soon startled by her sudden appearance.
He yelped and nearly fell backward onto his hefty backpack. At once, his face was made clear. He was young and looked rather skinny. Not at all surprising for someone on the road, but there was something else about him that immediately called out to Ezabel. Among his mop of a hairdo were streaks of pure blue. They were bright, as if a fire had been lit behind them, and were immediately set apart from the rest. Then there were his eyes, which gleamed like an azure lake underneath a starry sky. They were unlike any she knew.
A pouch had fallen out of his pocket then and sounded with the grinding of pebbles when it landed. Its mouth opened to give up a handful of sealstones which rolled out onto the floor.
“Sorry!”, Ezabel called out.
“It’s okay!”
They scrambled to recover the sealstones. And, though they rolled every which way, they were easy to grasp altogether in the end. When they finished, the pouch strings were pulled tight and the rattling of its contents cooled the air. The tension faded when they patted themselves off.
“You really scared me good there.”, he said with a jumpy voice.
“I swear that’s not what I was trying to do!”, she declared. “I’m Ezabel. - Are you okay?”
“Y-yeah, I think I’m all good.”, he briefly checked his pack. “I’m Jiro. - Did you also come from the camp?”
His question sat for a moment and had gone unanswered. Ezabel was clearly distracted. She glanced deep into his hair and stole fleeting looks into his eyes. The whole thing had Jiro practically feeling like a painting, or a statue. So, he waved his hand forward.
“Hello?”
“M-my bad! I came from the camp, yes.”, she nodded.
“Is there something on my face?”
“No, no. I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to stare. - It’s just that I’ve never met a saffire before.”
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