The corridor was silent and empty. The cold stone walls, frequently interrupted by plain wooden doors, were draped with tapestries that told tales of dragons and war, and the hard floor was decorated only by a long carpet, once vibrant and soft but now worn down by the tread of countless feet. At each end of the corridor was a set of huge wooden double doors, each adorned with ornate carvings and inlaid with gold.
Without warning, the northernmost set of these doors was opened, allowing a slender man with pointed ears and pale skin to slip out. His clothing was soft, dark, and elaborate, and he held himself with an air of importance. There was a scroll of thick paper clutched in his hand, and the click of his boots, muffled considerably by the old carpet, tapped out an urgent tempo. He walked all the way down the long hallway, stopping only at the far end to pull open the heavy oak doors.
The elf entered a great hall that was lined with long wooden tables. At the central table, about a dozen men and women sat waiting for him.
“The lists, ma’am,” he said, approaching the head of the table and handing the papers he held to the aged elf who sat there. Where the room’s latest arrival appeared to be in his mid-thirties, the woman sitting at the head of the table looked closer to fifty. Her hair was gray shot through with black, and there were heavy lines on her stern face.
“Thank you, Theodon,” she said as she took the scroll from him and unrolled it. Contained within were two separate sheets of paper. She peered at the first intently, reading the spidery script that flowed across the page. After a moment her emotionless expression shifted to one of surprise.
“She is giving? She hasn’t laid a male in a very long time,” said the old elf, intrigued. “Ah, but if she gives it, she must know it is male. You all know as well as I that she has yet to lay a living female heir.” This statement received nods and murmurs of agreement from around the table.
Now the woman picked up the second paper, written in the same elegant font as the last, and began to look over it. She seemed almost bored until she neared the bottom of the list. Then her face paled and she stifled a gasp.
“Madam Shoshonna?” asked Theodon, concerned. “What is it?”
Shoshonna looked up from the paper.
“We have a few… influential guests this year.”
“It can’t be more important than visiting royalty, like last year?” hazarded a woman sitting a few seats to the left of Shoshonna.
”Not as powerful, perhaps, but possibly more influential,” Shoshonna replied. “It seems the daughter of Lord Vera will be attending our school this year. Along with more… minor nobility,” she added as an afterthought.
This incited muttering from around the table. Excitement mixed with suspicion swelled, filling the air with delicious new gossip. Would the Vera girl be evil like her father? Or would she redeem her royal name and achieve great things for them?
Shoshonna quieted them all with a wave of her hand. “Calm down. If the Mother Dragon trusts her, then we should too. We will make preparations for the coming year, and when the daughter of Vera comes, we will welcome her warmly and watch her close.” With this she stood and walked away, leaving the remaining people at the table to quietly discuss the exciting new topic.