24th of Septupruo, 1249 of the First Age.
Her indigo eyes reflected the azure tinted rays of the sunlight, high on the sky. Her childish face was covered in dirt, tainting her pristine fair skin in heavy layers. A tattered cloth of red and gray wrapped around her head, flapping in the cold wind in this season of passing and memory, while her frail body draped in a ragged robe, faded silverish tunic underneath.
Bridges like the ones she stood on adorned the valley, pathways between both sides of the plateaus the capital. Each bridge was built wide, to fit hundreds of the citizens traversing between the vast capital, Luth-Asturuil. The bridges had been built with differing motifs, the one she stood on possessed motifs of the Lord of Needs, the golden outer frames covered in golden marble sculpted into the shapes of coins, of goods including breads, jewelry.
His statues placed on each sides, facing the sea and the vast plains of the inner land. An aelven man dressed in the finest of clothes, his long hair sculpted from gold, each strand made with the finest care.
Between each, kiosks set up by merchants of the Luth-Asturuil, and those who came from faraway lands of the continent. Their offerings varied between food delicacies she had never seen before, slaves varying from the Orkhin to even her corrupted kin whom ventured beyond the ranges of Dhaugruz. There were even those dressed like priests, long robes ornamented, embroidered with the symbols of the Great Sculptor. Their goods included well kept parts of exotic monsters with the tent behind them serving as the ritual grounds.
On the other end, folks of the city, as varied as the merchants prowled for goods. Dwarves from the Hogstol clan with their mechanical arms inspected the crafted goods, their faux eyes slanting to see beyond the honeyed lies of desperate vendors.
Ardhror humans with warm tones, falling for the easy smiles of merchants, buying food that will bring many ailments upon their unprepared stomachs, while other of their kins negotiate in heat for a better price. A few she noticed even reached for their weapons, threatening traders new to the heart of the Empire.
As her gaze wandered around, searching she even spotted a few free Orkhin, hired muscles to some Elk-Folk, a human who augmented himself with the flesh of the proud children of the Bountiful Mother. Long hair as fine as their fur, seamlessly flowing onto his gaudy, gleamy robe. Majestic antlers intertwine above his head, sprouting from his forehead.
Guards patrol behind her, with each step the small scales pulse as they pass ignoring her, even as her eyes remain on their backs, gleaming with worry. When they disappeared in the crowd, she turned back onto the rail, basking in the beautiful scenery. At least until the long awaited words reach her pointy ears.
“Sorry, I hope you haven’t waited for long.” The boy in much more tattered, clothes with faded colors said. Each of his words broke as he gasped for air, his youthful face covered in sweat and dirt.
“No need for an apology. Also told you if you’re late, don’t rush.” She said jumping down, with each pat on his back, his breathing regulated and he felt rejuvenated.
“I know. I just hate to make people wait. Especially friends.” He said with a smirk on his face before he coughed aggressively. “Did they overwork you again?” She asked as her gaze curved into somber.
“Nah, this time it was me. I thought if I lift more Lucoril I may get some bonus.” He added. “Lucioriil… it doesn’t matter. Be careful okay, don’t stretch beyond your limits.” She was about to correct him, but quickly changed course and flicked his forehead protected by his rustled fringe.
“Yes ma’am!” He added with an imperial salute, holding his right hand up with the palm facing the direction of the sun’s rays. A smile curved onto her face. “So where to go today?” She asked while leaning on the pristine, alabaster rails.
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“Well, for today I actually planned to introduce you to him. Or to be precise he wants to meet you.” The Boy leaned beside her, staring up as he looked around, his stare serious and inspecting before he spoke. “After all these years it was nigh time of it.”
“Hey, can’t just introduced you to him. He is an important figure to us.” He added calmly, in a low whisper.
“I know, it’s just I thought I already proved myself that time.” She said with a melting glance.
“And my family, and I of course are grateful for that. So do the others. But…” He started while pulling his dirty fingers through his hairs, loosening the snarls in the dark bush. “They don’t trust elven folk. In their eyes you could be a spy of the Inquistoril.” He finished while his attention once again wandered around their surroundings.
“Inquisithrir. And you know I came from overseas.” She reached into his hair as he started scratching it. Water flowed out from her palms, forming into tendrils that tenderly cuddle between the roots.
“I know, yet you somehow knew about them already. Even I was suspicious of you for a while, and I’m just a no name kid.” He continued while relief descended upon his complexion slowly as the hand-hot conjured water cleaned his hair, even his face was now spotless.
“Anyway best to leave now. His schedule is usually filled, and he is only willing to meet with you today to examine personally.” Then as he realized where they were, he pushed his head away, his cheeks reddened in slight embarrassment.
“Lead the way.” She said brimming with enthusiasm.
**
“This way.” He led her through a dark alley between two elongated buildings with meticulous edges. The stench of poverty hit her dainty nose as she followed after him. A long line of people lied on the ground, their heads leaned onto the walls as they dreamt of better days. With soft steps they tiptoed in front of them, arriving at their destination. A seamless wall of alabaster covered in dirt.
She waited silently while he drawn his hands across the wall, his eyes following their movement. “Gotcha.” He softly exclaimed as a square outline appeared on it, and pushed further in by his short fingers. After moments of silence, the shape of a door formed on the wall, sliding into it.
“Come.” The Boy beckoned her as her eyes and face gleamed with wonder as she first experienced seeing such use of arkhaine.
The two traversed through a long, labyrinthine system of corridors. At first, she wondered how many times he must have travelled through it, then she became aware of a warm, tingent feeling as the knowledge of the correct direction was woven into her mind.
“Is it her?” At their destination, a towering pale Orkh stood. His body robust, half exposed showing his scars accumulated through his long years. A savage, skeletal face on top of his muscled neck with only the mark of the collar burnt in to his flesh, a head stripped of hair with a long scar starting from his right eye, going all the way back. His arms fleshy logs adorned with primeval patterns etched into them with glowing bluish ink.
“I, Isocrates vow on my honor that it is her!” He coughed before straightening his posture, his right hand curled into a fist as it landed with a loud thud on his chest.
“Then let her in.” The Orkh said as he growled. His massive left arm knocked two times on the empty wall before it opened up.
“Just her.” As Isocrates started entering, the Orkh stopped him with his immense hand while his deep, aggressively toned voice sent chills down his spine. “Remember, be respectful to him.” He whispered as she passed by. Just as she was about to enter, she turned back slightly and winked with a reassuring smile.
Stepping in the large room lit only by the calm flames facing the door in the hearth with two cushioned chairs of modest quality prepared. A table between them with two kegs, one smaller clearly left there for her.
In the left chair sat a solemn Nielf, an elf of the far-east. His alabaster body draped in a murky garment of dull silk with graceful folds, fashioned after eastern designs with hints of golden lines. His contrasting dark hair cascaded down at the back, while the center parted to the back, knotted into a small bun. The shoulder pads’ scales resonated as he slowly stood up, his sleeves hidden behind similarly scaled vambrace.
His onyx eyes with slit pupils gleamed with calmness at her, before the lids slowly descend halfway down. “Come in.” His voice exuded tranquility, calmness in her. As she inspected him with her eyes, she noticed the onyx claws glinting in the flame’s lights, black scales scarcely decorated his hand, peeking under from his sleeves.
She lightly bowed, eliciting a faint smile from him, then walked with careful steps towards him. She froze at the next set of words. “Take a seat, your Highness.”