The morning air of Tequi smelled of sand and jasmine. The stirring breeze picked up loose grains of sand and swirled them about. As the sun had started to peak over the horizon, the 5:45 trolley rolled into the platform with a mostly empty car. The passenger count was less than ten, and none of them were fully awake. The conductor announced the arrival as the breaks hissed and the car lurched to a stop. Two passengers stepped off once the doors slid open—a pair of lions. One had fur as grey as smoke, while the other was a golden blonde.
The grey lion sported a well-maintained mane that was black as night, which matched the patch of fur growing from his chin. Bright yellow eyes sat behind a pair of sleek glasses positioned on the bridge of his nose. He wore a slate gray long-sleeve shirt, rolled up to the elbow, with a black shirt underneath. A simple pair of off-white slacks completed his outfit. Other than his eyewear, his only accessory was the necklace around his neck. It was comprised of a simple gold chain leading to a polished onyx bauble in the shape of a flame resting in a bronze torch handle. He rummaged around in his pocket and retrieved a small cylinder from inside. Popping the lid with a claw, the lion popped a red pill into his mouth. As he crunched away on the pill, he glanced back at the other lion who departed the train with him.
“You know, Tyrus, If you went to bed at a reasonable hour, you might be able to function in the morning.” His voice came out husky and low.
Tyrus, the blonde lion, stopped and glared with his own set of bright yellow eyes. His mane was far less maintained, going with a more shaggy look. In contrast with his traveling companion, Tyrus’s mane was as gold as their desert sun. He wore a leather jacket that sat just short of his waist. Under it was a slim, fighting white v-neck shirt with a hem that sat under his waist. He wore black jeans with gold stitching. His right wrist, the accompanying hand rubbing sleep from his eyes, was decorated with a trio of leather wristbands, each decorated with a set of metal beads—one with titanium, one with bronze, and the last with copper.
“Stuff it, Dante. If you had someone in yours, you might be less annoying.” Tyrus groaned before his maw stretched wide in a yawn. His voice was higher pitched than the dark-furred lion and had an almost ringing quality.
“You talk as if you do,” Dante said dismissively. He shook the cylinder at Tyrus, the pills inside rattling around, “Maybe a caffeine pill will help.”
Tyrus’ response was immediate. In disgust, the lion held his hand to get between himself and the caffeine pills.“Sweet hell! I would rather swallow a raw magma gem.”
Dante shrugged before putting the container back in his pocket. Stepping off the platform, the two stepped into a long thoroughfare. It didn’t take long before the pathway emptied into a sleepy marketplace. Vendors prepped both open-air stalls and storefronts for the coming day. A few restaurants and cafes were opened ahead of the coming foot traffic. The sweet smell of brewed beans has scented the air of the open-air market.
After passing a few, Tyrus couldn’t take it anymore. He reached up and tapped Dante on the shoulder. Once the lion stopped, Tyrus motioned at a cozy-looking cafe with a colorful wall of beads serving as a door.
“Hey, how about we stop for a quick cup?”
“I don’t need it, and we have coffee at the studio,” Dante answered before starting again.
The hand that tapped Dante’s shoulder quickly grabbed it as Tyrus stifled another, bigger yawn, “By the all father’s grace, I don’t think I’ll make it. Have a heart.”
Dante rolled his eyes and dismissively waved Tyrus off. The golden lion released Dante before heading through the beaded door. As Tyrus vanished into the restaurant, Dante turned his eyes to the slowly changing morning sky. Once an inky black, it was now a faint purple as Aria’s sun greeted her people. As its rays were still on their way, torches along the storefronts were bright enough to burn off the last bits of the night.
The sound of clattering beads and happy chewing pulled Dante back to Tequi. Out stepped his travel partner with a capped paper cup in one hand and a pair of treats in the other. Two thin wooden sticks were clenched between Tyrus’ fingers. Three balls of baked dough, each about the size of a golf ball, were skewered on the top. He opened his maw and bit one of the dough balls in half before sipping his beverage.
“Better now?” Dante asked, eyeing the sticks.
“Mmm, I will be. Lead the way.” Tyrus responded while offering the untouched snack, an offer Dante was more than happy to accept.
The marketplace path soon ended in an archway and emptied out into a large, more lively plaza. The sound of voices and footsteps before the plaza itself came into view. Countless cobblestone bricks were laid out in rings that led to a stone and brass water fountain in the center. The buildings around the plaza contained more stores, assorted venues, and a few higher-end apartments. Between the buildings were alleyways with entrances marked by tall pillars adorned with colorful, ornate banners.
The pair crossed the plaza and turned at one of the pillars sporting a red banner with silver accents. In the center was the image of a wolf skull with a rose in the open mouth. The rose’s thorny vines wove in and out of the skull and the spaces the eyes should be. Though the banner was made of simple cloth, the flower's petals twinkled in the nearby lanternlight. Along the right side of the banner and the side of the skull were cast in silver the word, ‘Vielle.’
After a short flight of stone stairs, Dante and Tyrus entered another pathway. Above their heads were rows of flower boxes separated by a few feet. Thick vines hung down the boxes, with colorful flowers dotted the hanging vegetation. The lively blooms drew multiple types of equally colorful butterflies to feed on their nectar. This pathway was shorter than the marketplace’s, and the lions found themself in yet another, albeit smaller, plaza. At its entrance was an elegantly crafted sign made of brilliant silver. It read, ‘Vielle Artisan Guild - Est. 933’ with each of the dots above the ‘i’s were shaped like roses and cast in nearly perfectly cut rubies. In the center of the path, under the sign, sat a small guard house. Inside sat an older male lion clad in a sharp white shirt and black slacks. As the two approached, a red wall of light sprung from the ground and blocked off the path.
“Good morning, kin.” The security guard spoke while holding out his hand.
“And to you. How are you this morning, Dolas?” Dante spoke as he pulled a card from his pocket. It had the same flower design as the banner, but the word ‘Vielle’ was along the bottom instead of the side. Beside the rose was a picture of Dante.
“As well as I can, Mr. Ocaña. And yourself?”
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“About the same,” Dante responded as the guard checked and returned his ID card. He stepped aside and allowed Tyrus to step up to the guard hut.
“And how is the other Ocaña this morning?”
“Envying the dead,” Tyrus grumbled, handing over his own identification card.
This drew a laugh from Dante as Tyrus got his own card checked and returned. Dolas raised a hand and moved his fingers forward. At the tip of his index finger grew a faint green light. After a moment, the wall changed from red to the green light shown on Dolas’ finger. He curled the finger back into his palm, and the light wall faded into nothing.
“Well, I'm sure they are envying you too, Mr. Ocaña. You two boys have a wonderful day.” Dolas said as the two passed by and walked onto the guild grounds proper.
The guild complex was rather large and sported both creative studios and consultant offices. It centered around a large, open-air courtyard with a statue in the center. Not counting the entrance pathway, four expansive hallways branched out from the courtyard that sported four floors each—two above ground and two below. The statue in the center was a crystal sculpture fashioned after a weeping willow, and from the top sprouted twelve dangling and swaying crystal branches. At the end of each was a gem carved and shaped to look like a piece of fruit and were spaced out to match the face of a clock. As the sun turned the sky pale blue, the red apple was illuminated with a red shine cast onto the bricks below.
Passing through the Vielle courtyard, the pair turned down a hall and stayed on the ground floor. They moved halfway down the hall before stopping at a door with a bronze number eleven on it. Under the number was a far less elegant, though still respectable, name card was emblazoned with the words: ‘The Ocaña brothers. Artisans and craftsmen. Tier II.’ Dante unlocked their studio door and led the way into the dark studio. After flipping on the lights, Dante stepped out of Tyrus’ way to attend to the stack of mail that had come in overnight. Tyrus tossed his empty coffee cup and doughless stick into a black stone trashcan before making his way to their coffee machine. The Ocaña’s studio was a sort of a home away from home for the lions. It had served as their main workspace for the better part of two years. The main room contained their personal workstations as well as a newly purchased dual-pot coffee maker.
Dante’s station sat closest to the door, sporting a gem stand in the center. It was still holding a large chunk of corundum that Dante had been practicing on the previous day. Along the back of the desk was a collection of neatly arranged tools needed to shape the geodes that came across his desk. He dropped the stack of mail on his deck before pulling down a computer screen braced to the wall. Above his desk was a single shelf that displayed orchestral shows Dante had been to. A small black ring was held in a display case on the far end.
As his brother slid a keyboard from his desk, Tyrus returned to his own station with a fresh cup of coffee. Tyrus’ and Dante’s stations were separated by the hallway that led into the studio’s break area and bathroom. His workspace was a little less organized. Multi-tiered drawers lined the outer walls of his desk. Each drawer was labeled with different metal, alloy, and premade parts. Tyrus, like his brother, had a shelf above his desk. However, Tyrus' shelf sported the few medals and awards he and his brother had earned over the years. The handful of them sat on either side of a pair of photographs. One was a photo of a lioness holding a small blonde lion cub bundled in a white blanket. The other was an older male lion standing between a younger Tyrus and Dante. The three were smiling wide, and Tyrus and Dante were holding graduation certificates.
Dante flipped through the mail that came while his computer booted up. It was sorted into three stacks, the largest of which joined Tyrus’ coffee cup in the trash can. Picking up the smaller of the two remaining piles, Dante gestured to Tyrus while fishing the cylinder from his pocket.
“Anything good?” Tyrus asked as he rolled his chair over to his brother. Sipping from his coffee, he plucked them from Dante’s hand and eyeballed them while sliding away.
“Just the normal rubbish. Standard resource dealer inquiries and junk mail. Waste of ink and paper if you ask me.” He pitched the last of his mail into the bin and gestured to the black stone container. “Would you do the honors?”
Tyrus nodded and took a deep breath. His yellow eyes shifted to a dark green as a warmth crawled up his throat and into his mouth. He crumpled up his own letters and held up the resulting ball. On a focused exhale, a jet of forest green set it aflame. Before the fire consumed it, Tyrus hurled it perfectly into the container. After the flame was allowed to consume, Tyrus’ eyes glowed again while he whispered, ‘Sij.’ As the light faded away again, the fire suddenly accelerated and exploded out of the stone receptacle.
As the white-hot flame rose far from the basin of the basket, Dante’s own eyes began to glow from behind his glasses. With eyes of deep blue, He whispered, ‘Gyi’ while watching the fire. A ring of runes appeared around the lid of the pitch-black stone trashcan. The container rattled for a moment before violently compressing into a tight cylinder. After a second, the black stone slowly expanded and returned to its original shape and size. When the runes faded entirely from view, the only thing remaining at the bottom was a layer of black ash. Now that the morning mail had been dealt with, Dante returned to the monitor on his desk. After logging in, he began browsing through the digital listings.
“How's it looking?” Tyrus asked while leaning back in his chair.
“Got a few bites. Looking through them now.”
“Oh? Any from the Royal foundry?”
The question caused Dante to stop scrolling for a moment. Shaking his head, he glanced at his brother and sighed, “You know they don’t run the boards, and besides, there are easier ways to see Piper.”
The mention of the name ‘Piper’ caused to shake a bit in his leaning chair. Falling forward, the two front legs hit the ground as he stammered, “W-What? I’m not asking about Piper. I just know they pay well for commission jobs. Seeing her is just a bonus.” The lion finished with a shrug.
“Sure, kin. Well, it looks like they are just small-paying jobs. Repair and refitting work, mostly.”
Dante saved the job offers and closed out the window. As he did, a new notification caught his attention. The internal communication program, V-Caller, had a message marked urgent for him. Upon opening it, he was greeted by the official seal of the House of Vielle. It was a shield overgrown with roses and their spiky stems wrapping around it.
‘Greetings, Ocaña brothers!’ were situated directly under the symbol in a fittingly flowery font. ‘This message is sent directly from the desk of your guild master, Gartanian Den Von Dou Vielle. Due to your skills related to jewelry crafting, you have been assigned a special project. Your project manager will be by sometime today to provide further details. The requesting party will be providing some materials. Please check the list attached to this message and ensure you have the following supplies.
“Looks like those other jobs are gonna have to wait. Got a request from the boss.”
“Wait, Master Gartanian?” Tyrus asked cocking his head slightly to the side. After a few clicks, the notification landed on the computer sitting at Tyrus’ station after giving the request a once over. He quickly turned his attention from the screen to his brother, who was now facing him. “By Hela, that’s him. Pompous crest and everything. You know what this means, right? Could be our shot at attaining our tier three certifications.”
“That and it's a friend of the guild master,” Dante added, “Might actually get some higher-paying work with those Highblood eyes on our work. Not to mention the good word that’ll bring the guild.”
The thought of all that money and attention sent a shiver down Tyrus’ spine and plastered a smile on his face. “Imagine a new Ocaña piece being photographed on some high-blood socialite. Dad would probably flip if it were for his bad hip.”
The brothers shared a laugh before returning to the message, namely the second page and the list of metals. Tyrus turned to his collections of drawers that outlined two-thirds of his works spaces. He had a few items needed but found that most of the required metals were missing. “Oh, looks like I need to hit the markets before the manager gets here. The last few repair jobs must have wiped me out. I’m gonna need the business card.”
Dante nodded and leaned down to open a lower drawer. He pulled out a small metal box with a roller combination on it. Leaning away from Tyrus, he spun the four numbers until the container softly clicked. Popping the lid open, he retrieved a gold-colored piece of metal and offered it to his brother. He watched as Tyrus walked up to him. Just as he reached him, Dante pulled the card back.
“I want you to get back to me as soon as possible. I need you here when the project manager gets here. Got me?”
“Kin, come on. Yes, I’ll be as fast as I can.”
Dante lowered his arm to allow his brother to grab it but yanked it away again. This time, he heard Tyrus growl out of annoyance. Dante looked up at him and was met with a glare. “It shouldn’t be more than three thousand credits. I am keeping track.”
“Would you just give me the card?” Tyrus spat. His brother nodded and lowered his arm one more time. Yet again, Dante pulled it back right as Tyrus grabbed it. Instead of a demand, Dante could only offer his brother a mocking smile. In response, Tyrus snatched the card from Dante’s hand and smacked his brother in the back of the head while flinging a few quick insults at him. All Dante could do was laugh at his brother while storming out.
“Be quick,” Dante called after his brother as he closed the door.
“Be patient,” Tyrus called back right before it shut.