On paper, Melrond was not a big city. It had just under four thousand permanent residents, a mere dot on the country map, and yet it carried an importance that could challenge every other city but Kulvik.
For it was a port city, perfectly placed to allow ships from Ethon and those further west to easily access the goods of Serenova. Likewise, it was an ideal resting stop for those who wanted to travel further north-east, to make deals with Castilla before circling the elven countries to gain access to the orc-filled nations of Grita and Vlora.
So, even with less than five thousand permanent residents, Elijah guessed that there easily were over twenty inside the port city. With a dozen massive merchant ships parked out in the waters, and a swarm of people moving between them and the solid ground, it wasn’t hard to make such estimations.
“I didn’t expect everything to be made of stone here as well,” Jack commented, as they neared the entrance to the city. Like Kulvik, a tall and thick wall had been constructed to create a clear perimeter around the city. While it wasn’t as massive as the one in the capital, it would take serious efforts to scale those defenses without being shot down from above. “And those engravings everywhere… Are stone masons just easy to find here?”
“You have to thank Alin for this,” Elijah explained, recounting the grand tales of the late king and the Earth Mage. As most who lived in Serenova knew by heart, the duo had made the long trek around the entire country, using magic to rebuild every village and city that had been destroyed by Castilla during the war.
It didn’t matter if you had been a farmer who’d lost their house and barn or a duke who had had their estate torn apart. By order of the king, Alin had rebuilt everything better than before.
Fire wouldn’t burn down the thick stone. They’d made sure of that.
“Halt!” a guard shouted, making Elijah slow down the wagon. Aleksi did the same with the one behind, the small caravan unmoving while it was inspected. “State your identity and business. Any goods with an appraised value of over 500 standard gold coins will be taxed. Any goods below that value can be bought for their alleged value if deemed to be a good bargain.”
“Elijah Caede, Royal Healer traveling with his highness, Louis Newell,” Elijah recited, as the aforementioned prince came out from the wagon to greet the guards.
The others who were well on their way to look inside froze at the words.
“I believe my sister had a notice sent to you, which should have arrived a week ago,” Louis continued when the gate guards kept silent. Even with the helmets, the widened eyes were obvious. “We have all the necessary paperwork to verify these claims if you wish to see them. I can understand if you want proof, as it has been some time since my family last visited this port.”
Well-mannered, no signs of stress in his body language, and a calm smile on his face. Others would’ve thought it natural if they hadn’t seen the two days of preparation the prince had done for those lines. With the impending need to do his job, Louis had made sure that he wouldn’t be surprised in the middle of it all.
Not bad.
“I, um, yes, we were granted notice of your arrival, Your Highness, along with, uh, paintings of your appearance to recognize you if needed,” the guard replied in an unsure tone when he finally remembered how to use his tongue again. “Please wait while I find my captain.”
With a pace that was just slow enough to look professional, the guard jogged back to the gate station. Less than a minute later, they returned with another in two whose armor looked to be both higher quality and more well-polished.
“Greetings, Your Highness,” the captain said smoothly, as he bowed to the prince before accepting the papers from another guard. A quick lookover was all that was needed before they were taken as valid. “I am Captain Herman Ahab, the current leader of the guards and stand-in baron for Melrond.”
“Has Baron Hosier passed away?” Louis questioned. “I believed that he was in good health.”
“I assure you that the Baron is still with us, Your Highness, but he was called to the capital city just two days ago,” Herman explained. “For what purpose, I cannot say, but I was told it was urgent.”
That was certainly something to question Vera about later, though the matter was moved on as the group was led into Melrond. The diplomat they were meeting had already arrived two days before and was waiting at one of the more expensive inns that the city had to offer.
“I didn’t spot it from a distance, but a lot of these buildings look gothic,” Jack commented, as they rode down the main street. There was quite a crowd of merchants ahead, everybody buying and selling like their lives depended on it, but the man beside Elijah was more focused on the stone instead. “Has to be with all of those arches, right?”
“If I remember right, Alin took a lot of inspiration from the building techniques of the old human country of Vale, while switching out impermanent materials to more closely match the dwarven methods.” Elijah recited, trying to remember the previous conversations he’d had with the Earth Mage regarding his work. Creating entire cities had not been an easy undertaking, but the old man’s previous education regarding historical architecture had helped quite a bit. Elijah had to admit he didn’t care much for it, but the various inspirations were still interesting enough. “There are still some dwarven traits that went into the final forms, however. The dwarven habit of using flat roofs happens quite a few times here.”
“Any reason for that habit?” Louis asked from the other side. This topic hadn’t been as well-studied by the prince.
“When you live beneath the dirt, there’s little reason to worry about the weather,” Elijah explained concisely. “Still, their choice of materials leads to buildings that can last many centuries, so they have a habit of making more extravagant design choices. Alin seems to have inherited that trait as well.”
The previous comments about the intricate etching in the walls surfaced once again. While they weren’t as detailed everywhere, Elijah could easily spot a few areas on the main streets where entire portraits had been created. Nothing too extreme, but depictions of people, battles, and various nature scenes were easy to find.
Each work would’ve taken months to plan and etch for a normal man. Elijah doubted Alin had spent more than a few minutes.
“Huh, that’s actually incredible,” Jack said, brows pushed together as the man fell deep into thought. “Since I can do a ranged transmutation now, do you think I might be able to make— Oh shit, what the hell is that!”
Elijah was nearly forced to turn his upper body to look to the left, where Jack was pointing into the thick crowd. Narrowing his eyes, he was ready to ask just what had gotten the man so utterly excited before he spotted the flash of scales as well.
They were nearly impossible to see, only reaching the stomach height of a human, but those yellow and red scales covering a thin body were quite a sight. And that elongated skull, closer to a dog than that of a person…
“That is a merchant of the kobold race,” Louis supplied in a low voice, seeming very uncomfortable by being close to them. “A respected one, going by the painted scales on the sides of their neck, so please refrain from those types of outbursts again. Especially in front of the diplomat. I want this to go well.”
“... Oh,” Jack replied. The man straightened his back and looked straight ahead, trying his best to look professional. “I’ll keep myself in check, once I get to meet them. No need to worry.”
“Clearly.”
That edge of sarcasm was the last sign of the prince’s true personality, as they reached their destination. Just about in the center of the city, next to the open area for the larger merchant stalls, was the entrance to the Goldenheart Inn. The name fit it well, with the red and gold streaks that painted the outside surface. And, with the flush carpet and the smell of expensive wine that met them when they walked inside, it was obvious that this establishment wasn’t for the average person.
“How many of you will be attending the meeting?” Herman asked, eyeing the size of the group which included several people that weren’t… usually seen in high-class discussions.
“It will just be me, him, and her,” Louis confirmed, nodding at Elijah and Fade. The captain accepted that answer, promising to show the others to another room where they could rest while the meeting was ongoing. “Please, lead the way.”
Herman did as asked, showing them the path through the more crowded part of the inn and towards mostly empty hallways. Elijah noted the lightning turning from the magical variant and over to real fire the further in they went, and, while the area never became close to cheap, the extravagant furniture lessened in presence. Function and comfort over aesthetic, one could say.
“It’s just in here,” Herman said, stopping in front of one of the larger doors. He didn’t let them inside immediately, instead knocking three times. Only when a green light shined from the center of the door did he open it. “I wish you the best of luck.”
“You’re not listening in as well?” Elijah asked, not instantly following as the two others entered the meeting room.
“We normally would, but instructions from the capital city have ordered otherwise,” the captain explained, which made Elijah frown. “When you’re finished, you will find the others in the room down the hallway.”
He thanked the man before stepping inside the room, closing the door after himself, and noting the instant quiet that came from it.
Non-magical sound insulation of such quality? How quaint.
Inspecting the layout of the room, Elijah quickly got the idea that this room wasn’t used for anything other than important meetings. Ignoring the side table filled with various refreshments, the main focus was the larger table which sat in the middle of the room, with chairs to accommodate the two sides.
Unauthorized use: this story is on Amazon without permission from the author. Report any sightings.
Elegant design, likely to be prohibitively expensive, and taking up more space than any normal establishment would allow.
Just the way they like it.
As he took the half-dozen steps needed to get to his seat, he noted the last participant in this meeting.
The elf.
A brown-haired woman. By human standards, she was thin and tall, but Elijah knew that such appearances could be very deceiving. The minor hints of muscle on those arms, and the sharpness of her eyes, made it clear in his mind he was working with somebody that was to be both feared and respected. Even if her face seemed youthful, looking close to twenty years of age, he had no doubts that the elven woman had lived his life span at least four times over.
And no Magical Aura.
That was the most surprising thing of all. Even with the primal instinct that told Elijah he needed to be wary of this leaf-eared person, no magical talents could be spotted. A trick? Maybe, but he wasn’t betting on it. The preparations they’d done in the days before had made no hint of the elf having magical talents.
“I greet thee, Lura Fadan,” Louis said a second after Elijah sat down. No hands were offered in the greeting, the prince instead lowering his head a little while still seated. “I apologize for our lateness. The trip from the capital took longer than expected.”
“Your apologies are unneeded, Prince Louis. In ages like these, time can be hard to control,” Lura replied with a smile. Her voice made Elijah’s back stiffen just a little. The old stories had always described the elven tongues as angelic, something to make mere humans think of them as deities of sorts, but the only thing he felt was the presence of wrong. “And, before we are to start discussions, I must give you my condolences for the loss of your father and brother. It is a terrible thing for them to leave so early.”
“I… thank you for the kind words,” Louis was able to get out. Elijah could feel the prince’s anxiety. Even if this was expected, it was still hard to go through.
The pace picked up after a few more fumbles, however, and the royalty could step into the role of a diplomat with enough elegance to be passable. Questions and answers that meant little to Elijah were traded at good speed. Nothing too heavy, and nothing that was dug into for too long, but enough to have a general understanding of where each person stood.
And, finally, Louis was ready to ring the bell.
“If my recollection of your traditions serves me right, I believe you’ve brought a gift for my sister?” the prince asked, making the elven woman smile once again.
“Your studies of my king’s habit of gifts are correct, Prince Louis,” Lura replied, reaching into the handbag that sat by the feet of her chair. A magical one, by the fact her entire hand could fit inside without trouble, and bring out a small package wrapped in green leaves.
Cylinder-shaped, half the length of her forearm, and the approximate width of the last gift.
“I was of the impression that your kingdom had given away this century’s product,” Louis commented, delicately accepting the wrapped gift.
“Sadly, yes, but we were more than willing to bring out one of the older bottles,” Lura confirmed, her smile steady as the prince tried to play off his momentary shock. “What you’re holding would be from the last batch that the Greenwood Brewery made before its end 723 years ago. From my personal experience with that century’s bottles, I would describe it as a spicy sweetness on your tongue, but I’ve also learned that human tongues taste it a little differently than ours.”
Elijah held back a snort at that remark, remembering the struggle it had been to taste one of those elven creations some months ago. Without the trick of infusing the liquid with his own Mana, it had been akin to drinking liquid fire.
“There, I must agree with you,” Louis replied, fingers sliding over the wrapping without disturbing the surface of the leaves at all. Were they all bonded at the edges? Elijah hadn’t seen such a thing before. “Since I have also seen the sturdiness of the elven wrapping techniques firsthand, I do have a small favor to ask of you.”
“Of course.”
With a single poke of the left index finger, the wrapping began to glow a soft green on the areas where the individual leaves had been bonded. Within the second, every single leaf fell to the table as if they had never been connected at all, revealing a beautiful bottle that contained whatever holy concoction the elven brewers of old had been able to create.
Elijah didn’t care about that. Especially not in that moment, where his gaze never fell from the elven diplomat.
Magic.
Despite not having a Core, despite not showing an inkling of any magical affinity in their body, a flare of a light green Mana still managed to leave her fingers and enter the wrapping. Not the exact liquidy green that Elijah personally possessed as a Biomancer but something very close to it.
And his widened eyes must’ve caught the attention of the elven variant, as the woman smiled at him.
“You saw it, didn’t you?” Lura asked. The smile she’d carried for the past minutes grew a little deeper when Elijah frowned. “The spark of nature.”
“The use of magic by a person without it,” Elijah corrected, when the prince looked at him in confusion. “You have no Affinity.”
“Not one to reach above another of my kind, and yet we can still call to the world,” the elven woman countered. Her words allowed a truth to settle in his mind. The stories of elves, especially the Forest Elves that Ethon was composed of, had a connection to nature deeper than any ordinary human could hope for. “The human eye is blind to many things that we can just barely glimpse. The gift you have allows you to share that ability with us.”
If sensing Mana was all there was to it, Elijah would’ve thought little of it, but a glance at Fade told Elijah she hadn’t stopped that line of green mana that had left the elven hand before.
There’s another requirement than having an Affinity.
Was it to have one related to the natural world? Elijah couldn’t say, but the Dreamweaver certainly didn’t fit whatever category existed.
“I’m a Biomancer by birth and Healer by trade, if that has a chance of influencing things,” he finally supplied.
“The gift to manipulate the world would help, but I can glimpse something more inside you,” Lura continued, not satisfied by his answer. “Something… foreign.”
…
She meant the alterations the Dungeon had done on him during the times he’d talked to them. He doubted it could be anything else, yet that hardly meant he would reveal the truth to her.
But, it wouldn’t do to not answer.
“I think that you’re catching a glimpse of Dawn.”
“Sorry?”
A lack of understanding. Elijah didn’t blame her for it, and neither did he blame the elf for her reaction when he put his hand on the table and allowed Dawn to enter the physical world once more.
‘Freedom!’
“An Awakened?” Lura muttered, eyes fixed on Dawn shaking itself free of imaginary dust. “This is… unexpected.”
“An Awakened,” Louis repeated in a monotone voice. Elijah did not miss the glances at the duck that the prince had seen countless times during their journey. “An Awakened being of nature, as described in the Chronicles of The Old—”
“Yes, that is right,” Lura cut in before the prince had a chance to finish his sentence. The elven diplomat had maintained a professional composure through the start of the meeting, yet this had broken the straw. Emotion past a confident sense of calm had finally escaped into the world.
‘Not human,’ Dawn commented when she finished getting her feathers in order. ‘What is it?’
‘An elf, as I explained to you before,’ Elijah replied. He wondered idly how much Dawn had been paying attention to the situation, while she’d been inside his body. What was she doing there exactly? ‘Do you sense anything different about them?’
‘Less food,’ the duck replied, fake eyes focused on the thin arms as she waddled across the table. Lura seemed to accept the attention wholeheartedly, her right hand reaching towards the plant body. ‘Easy access.’
Before Elijah could even dream of forbidding it, Dawn’s beak disassembled itself as it became dozens of thin tendrils. In less than a second, they had wrapped around the fingers of the elven hand, more than ready to feast on the captured prey.
‘Elves have the same rights as humans,’ Elijah was finally able to send out, instant disappointment coming back from the bond. Meanwhile, Lura was simply laughing at the display, as the tendrils slowly untangled themselves from her fingers and turned back into the beak from before. ‘Don't try to eat them.’
‘What if they’re rude?’
‘What do you see as being rude?’
‘Not letting me eat them.’
It took some amount of effort to contain his frustrations from reaching his face.
‘Just… don’t try to kill or eat them unless I ask you to.’
‘Fine.’
Dawn stretched the word as she waddled back to Elijah, leaping from the table and settling down on his shoulder. The short journey was enough of an excuse to take a nap.
“Oh, forgive my flippancy,” Lura said, when Dawn had settled down properly. The elven woman blinked a few times at the sight, seemingly out of some form of trance. “I was just… surprised to see an Awakened in Serenova. I was not aware of their presence here.”
“It’s no problem at all, though we could talk further about this once the meeting has finished?” the prince suggested, acutely aware of the passing seconds. The fumbling at the start had been rectified, the weights shifting into balance once again. “With this fine gift delivered to me, I believe we are ready for the last participant.”
“I, yes, you are quite right,” the elven diplomat agreed. She took a deep breath, both hands clasped together above the table before they slowly separated and revealed… an orb.
It was made of a glass-like material, too large to have possibly fit inside her palm, and it exuded an energy that reminded Elijah of the elf’s display two minutes before. A connection to nature, though this one was much stronger.
“Have you been instructed on the use of our artifacts before?” Lura asked as she allowed the orb to settle on the table. Despite being perfectly round, it didn’t roll. “If not, you needn’t worry. Just put a hand on the orb, let your mind relax, and close your eyes. When you open them, we will have reached our destination.”
If Elijah hadn’t been fully briefed on the artifact and its heavy usage these past centuries, he would’ve reached the mere notion of it. Regardless, the prince and his bodyguard put their palms on the orb without question, and he had to follow.
Deep breaths.
“Feel the nature, and the transportation will commence.”
He felt little of anything at the start, but the sounds of a forest reached his ears regardless. The sound of animals, the sound of running water, the feeling of an afternoon sun against his skin, the smell of the grass and fruits and…
Oh.
Opening his eyes, Elijah found himself facing an elven man who wore a crown.
Malon Gilro, The King of Ethon.