The trip through Dawnhaven took precisely as long as Tarnys had promised, and either through good fortune or sheer dumb luck, they managed to avoid the ‘blues’ he’d warned Leonidas about as well. The layout of the town had been both refreshing and surprising to Leonidas, for the simple fact that it was unerringly sensible.
Dawnhaven was divided into four quarters; the Sunrise and Sunset districts, which consisted of the east and west of the town respectively, where both the Dawnguard and Duskguard lived and were garrisoned along with their families and support staff, civilian aides, and other necessary functionaries.
The Prosperity Quarter was located to the south of the city, and had been briefly glimpsed by Leonidas on his way through. The entire section of the city was a mess of eclectic colors and vibrant storefronts, and consisted of the vast majority of easily accessible Inns, Taverns, and hawkers’ lanes within Dawnhaven.
It was also home to more than a few cafes, restaurants, and boutiques that had apparently flourished thanks to the influence of particularly industrious Terran locals—and boasted an animated morning and evening crowd, according to Tarnys.
The last quarter of the city was located to the north, and was referred to simply as the ‘Residential Quarter’. The vast majority of the housing for the town’s citizens were located there, and despite it being a ‘quarter’, the truth was that it accounted for over half the town’s space and then some.
When the Haelfenn had transmigrated in, they’d immediately and industriously seen how to most efficiently use the land, and like every real estate mogul ever born, the Minister for Housing had promptly used the royal reserves to purchase enough supplies and materials—as well as fully-built domiciles—to house three times their arriving population.
Dawnhaven boasted a populace somewhere around 15,000 when including the humans that had been granted residency. The Residential District, meanwhile, had been built to house closer to twice that number or more, and as a result, much of the quarter had been sold at a premium to nobles and rich merchants who wanted larger and more grand spaces of land.
That, of course, had created a smaller and more ‘elite’ district within the quarter, which was both literally and mockingly called the ‘Peacock District’. Tarnys had demonstrated great mirth when explaining that, and Leonidas had seen the humor in it.
Apparently the human locals had given it the name, and for better or worse, it had stuck. The nobles and rich merchants had liked the comparison, and so had the simpler folk—though for vastly different reasons, Leonidas suspected.
By time Tarnys had finished explaining all of this history, they had arrived in front of a large building in the Sunset Quarter which resembled an old fortress, though it was built with elegant spires and colonnaded walkways—and seemed to be entirely comprised of shimmering silver stonework.
“Welcome to the Moonstone Keep,” Tarnys had said while guiding Leonidas inside. The rest of the Lance had broken away, either to deliver the wounded to healers or see to the arrangements for the fallen, and the pair of them had been left to their devices within the keep—where Tarnys, at least, seemed far more at ease.
The keep itself had been roughly five storeys high, with spacious twelve foot high ceilings on each floor and sets of meticulously cut staircases leading to each level. The layout had been martially pragmatic despite its outward beauty and ostentation, and they had ascended three levels and walked through two expansive corridors before arriving at the office of the Dusk-Lord.
The door had been made from local wood, from what Leonidas had been able to discern, and had been spelled and enchanted enough that it gave off a faint aura of magical potency even to him. Tarnys had knocked thrice on the door, and a hard-edged female voice had bade them to enter.
When they had, Leonidas had not expected the sight that greeted him.
A fair-skinned elven woman wearing moonsilver warplate, with red accents and material, sat behind a perfectly modern mahogany desk. Her hair was pale, the same silver as her plate, and fell down just past her shoulders in faint curls.
Her left cheek was marked by a striking purple tattoo both below and above her eye with almost tribalistic design, and her lips were painted a matching shade of purple that contrasted well against her pale skin.
Her most striking feature, however, had nothing to do with her appearance.
It was her aura: as powerful as a riptide, and immense enough that it passively made his heart ratchet up in speed to be in her presence. She was no political appointment, he knew immediately. The elven woman was a warrior, and one Leonidas’ experiences in Elatra told him he did not want to cross.
That was, of course, exactly where Leonidas found himself: staring at a woman clearly several centuries older than him, and who was fully capable of killing him on a whim.
“{Dagger-Master Breezestrider,}” the woman said in fluent Haelfenn with the same hard-edged voice, and one which sounded odd coming from her otherwise attractive features. “{What brings you to my office at the end of our watch? Dawn is upon us, and I am due to be relieved within the hour.}”
“{Forgive me, Dusk-Lord.}” Tarnys responded without fear, but with clear and abiding respect. “{I wouldn’t have interrupted, but I thought you’d want to speak to this outsider.}”
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The woman’s intense purple eyes moved to regard Leonidas, and he met her gaze calmly. There was a time for fear, he’d been taught, and a time for resolve—and there was nothing to be gained by acting cowed before the woman regarding him. He’d met only a few people that shared her gravitas in his time on Elatra, and without fail; every one of them had despised cowards and egotists both.
Leonidas bowed his head respectfully, but with no trace of submission.
For all that her aura turned his spine to jelly and made him want to sit in a chair like a scolded child, he did neither. Instead he met her stare, blue eyes to purple, and assumed a calm parade rest.
“{Fascinating,}” the woman said after several moments’ long staring, and while never taking her eyes from Leonidas’ own. “{Is this the Terran that was reported on the hilltop to the south-east?}”
“{The same, Dusk-Lord. He was separated from the Alliance, Coalition, and Nomad gathering and came into our custody after the initial attack.}” Tarnys reported dutifully, and then glanced at Leonidas with a slight smile. “{He, ah, also speaks our tongue.}”
“{Is that true, Terran?}” the Dusk-Lord asked him directly. “{Do you speak Haelfennyr?}”
When Leonidas responded, it was a tone that he was only slightly surprised was both confident and properly respectful. Given how fast his heart was racing, that was a small miracle—and one he’d happily take.
It felt as though something else were buoying him, though he’d investigate later.
“{I have a conversational understanding of Haelfennyr,}” he confirmed with a polite nod, “{though it is not very good outside of that, and so I must request your tolerance for my clumsiness.}”
“{This is a thrilling find, Dagger-Master. So few of these natives ever bother to learn the tongue, and here comes one that speaks it not just easily, but with highborn inflection to boot.}”
Leonidas blinked at her words, and instinctively glanced at Tarnys to see if he’d heard her correctly.
When he did, the Dusk-Lord laughed.
“{Oh my, and it seems he does not even know what it is he does.}” The Dusk-Lord said while pushing herself up from her desk, and stepping around the mahogany table. When she did, Leonidas saw that not only was she gifted with a clear hourglass, she was gifted with muscle. The Dusk-Lord very likely could have bench-pressed him as a basic warm-up.
When she continued, it was from a standing position in-front of him, and her purple eyes were only a foot from his. He also realized that she smelled like steel and sword oil, mixed with the faint tang of blood and… lilacs, of all things. “{Poor man, you never realized that you were speaking in the manner of our royalty and highest born? Did you never consider the fact that nothing you say is slang or contracted?}”
Leonidas met the Dusk-Lord’s gaze stoically, and she smiled at him when he did.
“{Good. You know when to speak, and when to listen. That is your first point of merit. The second will be to see how you fare in a fight.}”
Leonidas blinked at what he thought he heard, but before he could say anything, she was already speaking again.
“{Tarnys!}” she called in a tone used to obedience.
“{Dusk-Lord?}” the elf responded while snapping to attention.
“{Prepare the Arena for a trial of worth. I want to see what this Terran is made of.}”
“{Of course, Dusk-Lord… though I should note, he seems very poorly educated on the System.}” Tarnys said respectfully, and with an only slightly concerned glance for Leonidas, which he found immensely endearing all things considered. “{He didn’t even know about the Aetherium Store’s function. I think he may have been isolated in a manner that disarmed his ability to learn during the early years of the Incursion.}”
“{Then you have until you reach the Arena to educate him, and help him get outfitted for battle.}” the Dusk-Lord said to Tarnys in a tone that brooked no refusal. “{Once I am relieved, I will head to the arena—and when I arrive I expect to see more than this half-naked wretch, no matter how easy he is on the eyes.}”
“{Yes, Dusk-Lord.}” Tarnys said obediently.
The woman nodded and turned back to Leonidas, appraising him with a look of intense assessment that made him feel more naked than his ruined clothes did.
“{What is your name, Terran?}”
“Leonidas Achilles,” he answered carefully. “{Though I am known by} Ace.”
“Ace…” the woman said as if tasting the name. “Why Ace?” she asked in perfect English.
“My sister found it easier to say, and I liked it more than ‘Leo’.”
Her purple eyes narrowed slightly, and an amused smile occupied her features once again. “I have read Homer’s Iliad, Leonidas Achilles. It will be interesting to see whether or not you match up to the legend.” she stepped forward and inhaled slightly, much to Leonidas’ confusion.
“You smell like war, Leonidas Achilles.” the Dusk-Lord proclaimed with a look of colder and more intent consideration. “Know that I am Ceruviel Latherian, and I command the Night in Dawnhaven. Impress me, Leonidas Achilles, and I will make your life much easier. Fail…”
She turned away and moved back toward her desk with measured strides.
“...and the beasts of the Arena will be a fond memory. I have no time for useless people, and even less for the family of my enemies. Perhaps I will send your head to the Iron Duke as a warning against returning to Dawnhaven.”
Leonidas’s eyes widened at her words, and he felt Tarnys staring at him in surprise.
“Go now.” the Dusk-Lord said coldly. “And be sure to impress me, ‘Ace’. I do not offer second chances.”
Before Leonidas could respond, Tarnys bowed and pressed the small of his back for him to do the same. Automatically, he did.
“Stars guide you, Dusk-Lord.” Tarnys said in English, and then quickly guided Leonidas out of her office.
He was too surprised to resist.
image [https://i.imgur.com/dfR2GZM.png]
image [https://i.imgur.com/cLbVtHF.png]
Concept art of Ceruviel Latherian