A rippling silence inhabited the spacious interior of the Sleeping Nereid, to the preference of Taip – the faun owner and bartender – whose hairy arms ending in claws appeared to by a synthetization of flesh and water, similarly his curving goat-like horns adorning his bestial head bore both perceptible traits of liquids and bone.
He would not complain though if there were guests needed to be served as his establishment was quite a popular choice amongst the working class of the capital, while also a few of the patricii tended to spend time and aurym on certain nights. With the recent attacks, he harbored worry in his heart each night, expecting those mad folk to wander amongst the good people and carry out a vile deed that shall either cost his life or reputation – though those wandered together.
Although Naghig and even Mirayroth whispered to him that such worries were unnecessary, and he can just continue to live his life before he joined the New Dawn.
Suddenly, his small – adorned in the center with a vertical and wide slit – of a deep blue moved onto the door as its creaking broke the rigid silence of the Sleeping Nereid. A small, corpulent man in a richly hued lavish robe of many layers with a collar that slanted outwards with a neckline shaped like a tear stepped in and greeted him with a silent nod as he slowly walked towards him with a haggard expression.
“Good day my good lord! What can I serve with?” A part of him wanted to remain behind the towering counter of stacked stones and wooden top, but his good nature triumphed and walked up to him and asked in a genial manner.
The old man – a merchant he though – he mistook at first for a dwarf furrowed his brows then looked at the wooden plaque. His tired, steel gray eyes narrowed then he coughed and laid out his order in swift manner in his deep, hoarse voice. “Only a cup of your finest wine. Please and thank you!”
He hurried behind the counter after taking the order with a light bow, then connected the slithering tube of flexible metal to one of the barrels and held its open end over a freshly cleaned cup of rich alloy of brass shade and engraved with peculiar southern patterns and glyphs. As his wet and fleshy fingers wrapped around the tube, his mana poured into its smooth and temperate surface and at once wine flowed upon the awakening of enchantments.
Just as Taip finished pouring almost to the trim, he heard the door flip open in a familiar manner and noticed the pale form of Naghig draped by not too outstanding garments of mismatched colors. The two greeted each other with a silent nod, then he heaved a soft sigh noticing the orkh heading straight for the small and corpulent man.
Before he delivered the order, he poured the favored mead of Naghig and headed to their table where he quickly placed down the keg and goblet then before he could retreat to his abode Naghig stopped him with a grunt. “Will need the backroom.”
“Then just a moment.”
**
As he stepped through the gate, his corpulent man disguise faded into the void of reality, and once more Albron’s gallant form stood proudly in the place where black stars rise over the purple skies.
The Plateau of Hauseng, a place currently sitting at the very border of His reality, a vast vista of nothingness except for the ivory spire of a flat soil some scholars debate to be a broken off piece of the Almodo himself. Though as Albron looked at it, it looked closer to basalt of a strange white shade amongst the infinite mauve space.
A historical piece of ground though nonetheless as he heard the many tales told by his father, by Augermil that the first Elhyrissiar of the Empire dueled the Grimm Sovereign himself on top of the Plateau of Hauseng, the place where he his essence fused with the Six. As he breathed deeply the air – neither cold, warm nor temperate yet with a bizarrely sweet, beckoning odor – he sensed the remains which rent into the very fiber of reality, the result of tearing a doorstep onto the veil itself.
Albron knew what he felt were all the leftovers of the purest form of the primal aspects which built up the reality he knew, he lived in. The essence of change and the resulting finality lingered and kissed his being like a cold lover, the essence of nature including all its elements assaulted him with their varying fervor, the essence of mind and life cleared his jumbled thoughts and relieved him of the tiredness that hung over his shoulders for decades now.
And a myriad other remnants of these forces wormed their way into Albron, whilst his eyes searched for Mirayroth whom they found standing at the far edge of the Plateau of Hauseng, staring down into the bottomless abyss while seemingly pondering and waiting for his comrade to approach him at last.
As he reached near Mirayroth, a second spire erected itself beyond the borders of the plateau, a spire of pure, vicious darkness which seemed to swallow what little strange light lit up this realm. It swirled both calmly and chaotically, and it stood by itself but also leaning against the veil into which it tore a doorstep.
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And like many times before, he saw the shapes of familiar lineaments and utterly bizarre beyond comprehension protruding from its walls, its even and vertically sloping surface then retracted to the nothingness of it. “You know I am quite busy old friend.” Albron asked as soon as he stopped in a calm manner which still communicated well his frustration.
“I am well aware of that fact. And I don’t plan to take up much of your time.” Mirayroth answered in a soothing tone as he continued to stare down at the abyss. “I simply want to inquire on the progress of lady Aurelithae.”
“Can’t you just ask him about that?” Albron said lightly frustrated as he crossed his arms. “But to save you some time, she certainly found his grimoire already as she had been holed up in her room the past few weeks.” He continued with faint solemnity in his deep voice.
“I see, so we won’t see her down here for a while then. Now my friend tell me, what ails your mind?” As he turned slightly to look at him, Mirayorth noticed the visible distress on Albron.
“Have you spoken with him? I know it is late to send them back, but I still feel like it has been early for such actions.”
“Is it early? Time maybe our ally, but Terrianis is already aware of the Chosen, and soon a delegation shall visit them no doubt about that.” Mirayroth turned back to the abyss as he felt its stir rang through the air, through his body and soul.
“I am aware, though I still feel their actions are unnecessary. Don’t they undermine your agenda?”
Mirayorth shook his head. “Not in the slightest of ways. Contrary, my cells’ numbers are growing even as we speak thanks to folk losing faith in their protectors.”
“I see. One last thing, if she visits you once more, I’d like you to tell her to refrain from acting upon her anger anymore. Though this time it brought both miracle and trouble.” Albron stood beside Mirayroth and gazed down at the stirring darkness, growing with every passing day.
“What trouble?” Mirayroth then turned and looked up at him as he stood in his massive shadow.
“Flavian whose death she desired was inspecting on his own and came quite close to suspect me and my Wing of treachery. And he seemed to be aware that she kept her eye on him, which led to his letter that found its way into my uncle’s hands. And now that solidified his beliefs.”
“Does he suspect you?” Albron shook his head. “Then for now just leave him be.”
“Not like any of us could take him on.” Albron chuckled which seemed to infect Mirayroth. “True. But I also suspect that his own investigation shall be delayed soon.”
“Well until then I stay by his side and try to fix this mess myself. Hopefully when that time comes, he shall not relay it to Terrianis.”
**
A knock on her door brought Aurelithae out from the excited stupor, and with a swift movement she closed the dark book whose pages crawled with shadows and unfamiliar yet readable and comprehensible glyphs that seemingly talked to her, poured her mind with knowledge of secrets about an art preceding all the planes of existence.
Hours passed as her eyes slowly traversed the first dozen pages, and felt a void excitement that thrilled her more than forcing her will upon the world. At first, she felt content with just reading a bit of it as she did not expect understand any of the weird letters. Then a desire awakened within her, a desire to follow the scripts penned in a strange color.
Aurelithae held her tender hand out into the light seeping into her room, onto the peculiar eastern carpet, and for a moment closed her eyes, and envisioned the colorful domed vistas of the Tsuormo archipelago where her mother came from and forced herself into the mental painting. And at the same time, instead of forcing her will, she simply beckoned the space to hurl her through itself, coveted time to halt its relentless march.
A surge of thrill followed her eyes opening to the very same landscape unfolding before her, the great walled city of Yaugwhai veiled by the trees bearing warmly shaded foliage and honied fruits and sitting on the unevenly rising hill while feeling the breeze of the cold air of Mhorombar against her alluring fair face. Though this surge of thrill and joy beget of great discovery proved to be short lived as she felt distress at not making it back.
This fear dispersed at the shake of her head and she closed her eyes and envisioned her room after closing her eyes and when she felt the cold air no more, she let out a calm sigh and went back scrying the knowledge of the black book.
Drunken by the experience, she read the book until darkness spread across the sky and the Illius shifted into its silvery form with tinge of mauve and azure dancing across the vista of emptiness. As the dim room lit up in a warm golden light, she held her hand once more forward palm facing the ceiling and she forced the image of majestic dragons into the infinite desolation before her eyes.
Then when Aurelithae felt cold touch of scaled paws against her palm, she opened her eyes and stared once more exhilarated at the small form of a dragon. Once again though her achievement proved itself to be short lived as the miniature beast halted in its movements and stayed motionless as she watched with a gaping heart slowly drained of hope.
In the end she placed the small cadaver inside her drawer and began to scrim the grimoire once more, though as she reached beyond two more pages, the knock sounded on the door and she swiftly closed the book and hid it behind her shelf near the door itself.
Upon entering, she courteously greeted Akaerith and the three handmaidens whom prepared her ceremoniously to sleep, ridding of her daytime garments then dressing her into the soft, satiny dress of a warm golden and mauve color then handed her a cup of tantalizingly scented tea which she chugged down elegantly before she was tucked deeply into the soft embrace of her sheets.
Bidding farewell to them, her eyes closed down and she felt eager to visit the land of Oneiro while oblivious to the scraping in the desk and moving in the drawer.