"The soil harsh, the Gor's wind blow,
Where crops lie dead 'neath the endless snow,
Our hand's art tough as frozen earth,
But within our hearts, a boundless mirth!
Oh, barren fields, Oh hardy lands,
Lightwork is made from many hands,
May sunshine come, and melt the snow,
From frozen seed, our hope shall grow.
In nation's walls, where mountains creep,
Beneath watchful eyes that never sleep.
We toil and work from dawn 'til night,
We harvest, till, and never blight!
Oh, barren fields, Oh hardy lands,
Lightwork is made from many hands,
May sunshine come, and melt the snow,
From frozen seed, our hope shall grow.
The crops are rough, the bread is stale,
In sturdy lands from which we hail,
Through icy flames, and steaming cold,
A better man is shaped, our mould.
Oh, barren fields, oh hardy lands,
Lightwork is made from many hands,
May sunshine come, and melt the snow,
From frozen seed, our hope shall grow.
'Neath fading Sun our swords do swing,
No angels hark, no birds do sing,
We shall not ever weep nor moan,
At hardship reaped, for the holy throne."
Extract from a diary of a Zachroc merchant titled: A record of a melody sung by a band of Firmusian caravan guards when they thought I slept.
I have no idea why my brother wanted me to meet the Firmusian noble. Those hairy barbarians from the north rarely come to our great enlightened city but so do goblins. Did him losing to her during a match really unscrew some of his bolts by enough for him to interrupt my study?
He knows that I'm not a Geni'i and easily remembers their lessons. What is the point in learning a perfect way of casting a spell if, on a battlefield, you don't have time to stand still?
Taking a sip of the reddish brown tea I quickly washed down my dry throat. The tea wasn't sweet like the rose tea common in Oriripol but it wasn't as foul as she expected just bitter. Generally, everything happening around her wasn't as she expected.
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The Firmusian barbarian wasn't a ball of unwashed hair like she expected but a doll-like woman with impeccable pale skin wearing a simple short-sleeved white shirt with a high collar. A pair of suspenders securely clipped into the waistband of her long skirt gave Lady Siri a rather cutesy appearance further reinforcing the illusion that at the helm of the foreign ceremony was a lifeless toy rather than a high noble.
Her target appeared to lord over the guest as she sat with her legs tucked under herself while silently watching everyone and everything. I wouldn't consider myself easily intimidated but I did avert my eyes when Lady Siri's eyes lingered on me.
Does that girl ever blink?
I asked myself as I watched her being handed a cup of tea. I heard that two people could accidentally have synchronized blinking causing both to feel disturbed by the the other's lack of blinking. Summing everything she saw in a short time the dar Blackworm didn't fit in the South, her snow-white appearance appearing disturbing to the slightly brownish tone of an average Edorian.
In Oriripol the tea ceremony looked very different from the ceremonies practiced over the Vitas. It was more about hierarchy and a show of power rather than a gathering to talk. Such things ought to be done in the backrooms away from the prying ears of slaves. Every moment which passed I expected slaves to begin to perform for our entertainment alongside a colourful yet inedible display of dishes I would have to pretend to eat.
The barbarians didn't seem to care that both sexes were present and drank the same tea. Well, technically I could see them bending the rules a little given that this tea party was little more than an excuse to meet the strange Firmusian.
At least they don't hold tradition to such a high degree I was led to believe.
"Lady Siri, are you enjoying your tea?" The host of this oddly familiar performance asked invoking only a slight nod from the icy noble.
The scion of a minor house seemed to be a tool used by the more powerful noble which seemed ironic given their proclivity to morally bash our great state for our institutions.
Miss Sofia smiled a lot which seemed foolish but there was something to be said about her personality which made the tea so much less boring. Especially funny was the struggle of the boyish woman who showed on her face as she talked to each of her guests.
"Lady Isha, I didn't expect any Oriri native to join a foreign celebration?" The elf-spawn Elfreda turned to me trying to start a conversation as the rest of the guests began chattering between themselves.
"I was bored and decided to check what people over the river do for fun." I answered before putting a spoonful of honey into my mouth and drinking the bitter tea.
"Still, our hosts rarely interact with the foreign body. I'm curious why a member of the esteemed Rajma family would visit this humble gathering of the Faithful?" The chestnut woman with pointy ears seemed the sharpest tool among the gathered sheep, it's saddening to see a fellow magic user being held in chains of ignorance.
"I grew bored and wanted to see something exotic. Would you deny me this simple entertainment?"
"We wouldn't Lady Rajma, but I was very surprised when I received your letter." My host chimed in.
"I too was surprised," If it wasn't for my brother I could have been somewhere else. "Is Lady Siri mute?"
"Ehh... no, she simply doesn't like to speak."
It is rude for her to not answer her host but I guess she isn't a refugee and therefore remains proud, not unlike these sheep. This confused me even more as this noble might have been the worst person to try to influence, there was no hook or anything to grab onto. I should have stayed in my room and done my assignment rather than listening to my stupid brother.
"Sandwich." A quite melodious voice called across the room causing the chatter of nobles to stop.
A tall man with dirt-blonde hair stood up from the far side of the room where all the servants stayed. From the way he walked the man was of noble birth but a soldier at heart.
"Must you call me that in front of everyone?" I casted a spell and was able to hear the man whisper as he gave Lady Siri a proper bow.
"Where is my deliciousness?" A confused voice which sounded too genuine for an actor to do, echoed in the suddenly silent room. The silence which only one of the nobles was aware of.
"I'm sorry but what is happening?" A slightly pudgy and short man asked staring at the back of his retainer.
"Emm... Mister Vilkas had made a deal with Lady Siri to construct something he needed." Our host said clearly confused as we were on the sudden and humiliating display which was accruing." Maybe if she adds a whip or something I will consider making Lady Siri my friend.
"I did bring you cake as you had asked for."
My target's hand disappeared, appearing cleanly cut at her elbow before reappearing with a small leather sack from which mana leaked profusely, most likely some ancient artifact which felt like a display of power aimed at us. Either she is famous for having an Inventory and I hadn't known about it or Lady Siri didn't know what a person could do knowing such a thing. Her father had eliminated a rival possessing an Inventory by framing him in a murder and implying that he was hiding the murder weapon in his Inventory space.
I didn't think my eyes could lie by showing me the truth but I stared with disbelief as I saw the man pay back the generous gift with a fruit cake. Sugar might be expensive but it wasn't that expensive, this has to be staged.
"Auu, what was that for?" Vilkas flinched, folding his body in half as I saw Sofia elbow the actor in the side staring angrily at him.
"You know for what Sandwich." I looked around to see everyone including the staff watching the unfolding scene with a look of bewilderment which hurt my brain as I realised my tea wasn't spiked with something and everything was real.