13th day of Scarlettide, 1367
The day was bright and sunny, with nary a cloud to be seen. A gentle autumn breeze swept across the field, rustling the dry grass as though it were an ocean of green, swaying as the water would, and carrying on its back the sweet fragrance of autumn's harvest. Ebonheim reclined on a hay bale and gazed up at the blue sky above her and sighed.
A few leaves drifted down from the branches above her, gliding through the air like small boats on the breeze. Some landed on Ebonheim's lap while others drifted by without notice. A few moments later, one landed on Ebonheim's face, tickling her nose. With a gentle snort, she pushed the leaf away and let it drift away in the wind.
A soft giggle caused Ebonheim to open her eyes again to find Ivera floating above her head, her gossamer wings fluttering as she hovered in the air. "Having fun?" she asked with a mischievous grin as she spun in the air to face Ebonheim again.
Ebonheim propped herself up on one elbow and smiled at Ivera. "I was," she admitted, "I've been a bit lazy today."
Ivera lowered herself to the ground, her leafy wings folding against her back, and plopped down on a hay bale beside Ebonheim. "It's been a while since we've seen each other. How have you been?" she asked as she picked up a leaf and began to play with it.
Ebonheim gave Ivera a wry smile and shrugged. "It's been... tiring. I've been trying to come up with ways to keep my village safe. With everything that's been happening recently..." she paused and trailed off with a small sigh as she stared at the sky again. "I'm just glad that you're doing well."
Ivera nodded and placed the leaf she'd been playing with down with a frown. "Well, that's all well and good," she said, "but that's not why I came here."
Ebonheim gave Ivera a confused glance and tilted her head to the side. "Did Elmsworth send you?"
Ivera nodded again and clasped her hands together in front of her chest. "Yep! I've been sent to fetch you," she said with a lopsided grin. "The yearly gathering between the lords of the Eldergrove valley is soon, and you're expected to attend."
"The what now?" Ebonheim blinked and sat up, crossing her legs beneath her as she stared at Ivera with an arched brow. "Lordly gatherings?"
Ivera rolled her eyes with a huff and flicked Ebonheim on the forehead with the tip of her finger. "You're such a dunce." When Ebonheim rubbed her forehead with a pout, Ivera relented with an apologetic smile. "The lords of the Eldergrove meet on the eve of Scarlettide the usual grove at the center of the valley," she explained patiently, "to discuss anything important and to determine any issues or threats that affect the valley."
There was such a thing? "I didn't know we had something like that," Ebonheim said, her brow creasing in confusion. "Elmsworth never mentioned it to me."
"Well, back then he probably thought that you didn't qualify to attend," Ivera said with a shrug as she played with Ebonheim's hands. "But after everything you did to help everyone during the Elemental Conflux, well, he decided to extend an invitation."
"Oh." She didn't know whether to feel flattered for being invited or offended for not being invited beforehand.
Ivera gave Ebonheim's hands a playful squeeze as she turned to face her with a grin. "That said, you don't have to go...but... if you don't, the other lords might not take it too kindly. Trust me, you don't want any of the other lords coming over here for a visit. They're not as... nice... as Elmsworth."
Ebonheim wrinkled her nose at Ivera's warning—the last thing she wanted was a lordly visit from someone who didn't care for Ebonheim's subjects. "Fine," she sighed, "I'll go."
"Take me with you."
A sudden voice startled both women, causing them to jump and whirl around in search of its source. From the bushes nearby, Serrandyl poked her head out and grinned at the two of them. "I want to go too," she said, her voice excited. "Take me to the lordly gathering."
Ebonheim shot a questioning glance at Ivera.
Ivera shrugged in response. "You're allowed to bring a retainer or two. But if they cause any trouble, you'll be held responsible."
Serrandyl bounded towards Ebonheim, brushing off the leaves that stuck to her clothes before wrapping her arms around Ebonheim's neck in a tight hug. "So, can I?" she asked with a huge smile on her face. "Can I? Can I?"
The idea of bringing along a beastkin who is known for being brash, impulsive, and highly competitive was like inviting a flame to a field of dry grass. And there was no guarantee that Serrandyl would behave while at the gathering. Just looking at those sparkling, crimson eyes was enough to bring a cold sweat to her forehead. What could that pea-brain be thinking between those feline ears of hers?
As if sensing her reluctance, Serrandyl pressed her face against Ebonheim's as she nuzzled against her. "I want to go," she said in a pleading tone. Serrandyl rubbed her forehead against Ebonheim's with a purr, and the sensation sent a shudder down Ebonheim's spine as her body tensed at the sudden display of affection.
"C'mon," Serrandyl continued as she pressed her forehead against Ebonheim's again, "Take me with you."
She would probably try and follow her in secret if Ebonheim said no, so she relented and sighed in defeat. "Fine," Ebonheim said with a groan. "You can come with me."
Serrandyl immediately pulled away from Ebonheim and clapped her hands, letting out a happy squeal as she bounded around Ebonheim like a manic grasshopper. "Bless! You! Ebonheim!" she exclaimed with a hoot. "I'm gonna go pack!" With a hop and a skip, she turned around and bounced off towards the village in a hurry, leaving Ivera and Ebonheim in stunned silence as they watched Serrandyl disappear from sight.
Ivera turned to Ebonheim, a bemused expression on her face as she gestured to Serrandyl's retreating form. "Never thought I'd see the day when Leonine beastkin would live in the valley."
"Are there other beastkin in the valley?" Ebonheim asked with a tilt of her head.
"There are," Ivera said, "but not many. The Lord of the South has a tribe of Ophidian beastkin in her lands, but they don't venture out to the other territories much."
"I see."
Ivera gave Ebonheim a gentle nudge with her shoulder. "Anyways," she said with a playful smirk. "Once your retainer is ready, we'll head off to Elmsworth and he'll guide us to the gathering."
"You're going with him?" Ebonheim asked with a note of surprise in her voice. She hadn't expected Ivera to be going as well, but it made sense—she did serve under Elmsworth.
Ivera nodded in response as she let out a small yawn and stretched her leafy wings, causing them to flare out behind her before they folded against her back again. "He told me to. Ah! Aelindra is coming along too."
Aelindra... she had been corrupted by a Magitech device at the start of the year. Ebonheim recalled the incident vividly. "How has she been doing lately?"
"She's doing well. Pretty much back to her old self and her grove managed to weather through the storm with barely any damage." Ivera gave Ebonheim a beaming smile. "We'll have to stop by there before heading off to the gathering."
Ebonheim smiled back at her as she nodded in agreement. "That sounds great."
They sat together in comfortable silence, staring at the clouds drift past overhead as they waited for Serrandyl to come back. After a while, Serrandyl returned, dragging an old travel pack behind her as she joined them again. "I'm ready!"
"Good! Let's go then." With a quick leap, Ivera took to the air and drifted towards Elmsworth's domain.
Ebonheim let out a loud groan and trudged after Serrandyl who had already started walking off after her.
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Elmsworth led the group southeastward from Ebonheim's domain, moving through the Eldergrove's dense canopy for a few days before arriving at the grove where the gathering would take place—a small, unassuming clearing nestled within a ring of willow trees, bisected by a stream that flowed through its center where a circle of moss-covered stones rested.
As they arrived, Ebonheim looked around to see if others had arrived earlier, but the grove was empty save for them. Serrandyl tossed her pack onto the ground and plopped down beside it, muttering something about how tired she was from walking.
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Ivera playfully tugged at Serrandyl's tail, prompting Serrandyl to swipe at Ivera with a loud huff.
The journey here certainly had been lively with those two around. They were like two children who couldn't stop bickering with each other—naturally, their bickering had moved on to poking at Ebonheim as well. As much as Ebonheim tried to ignore their antics, their constant teasing left her exhausted.
Aelindra, on the other hand, seemed to be enjoying herself, laughing heartily at their antics as she watched them from afar. She looked refreshed, and her posture was straight and tall, with none of the weariness that plagued her before.
Elmsworth lumbered to a spot large enough to accommodate his immense form and settled down, his roots splaying outwards as he did so. "We'll wait here until the others arrive," he said as he closed his eyes to rest.
Ebonheim nodded and joined him on the ground, folding her legs beneath her as she sat on the soft earth. "How many lords are coming?" she asked, her eyes on Aelindra as she watched Ivera and Serrandyl wrestle with each other.
"Three others will be attending." Elmsworth opened his eyes to stare at the others as he spoke, letting out a soft sigh. "Liselotte of the North, Calyxia of the South, and Nillen of the East."
"I'm...assuming that you're Elmsworth of the West then?" Ebonheim asked with a wry smile.
Elmsworth arched his head and peered down at Ebonheim from his towering height before letting out a low chuckle. "A fair assumption," he said before his gaze drifted back to the other lords that had yet to arrive, "I am."
A moment of silence settled between them, punctuated only by the soft laughter coming from Aelindra, Ivera, and Serrandyl. As Ebonheim watched Ivera and Serrandyl wrestle with each other—though, more like Serrandyl playing with Ivera like a cat playing with a ball of yarn—her thoughts drifted to the meeting ahead.
Lordly gatherings sounded rather... ominous, but perhaps they weren't so bad if they were as cordial as Elmsworth was. "When do you expect them to arrive?"
"They'll arrive precisely when they mean to," Elmsworth said in his typical, curt manner. "Until then, we'll wait."
Ebonheim sighed and ran a hand through her hair before leaning back on her arms and gazing at the clear blue sky above them. This might be a long wait.
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Under the twilight's sapphire veil, the verdant grove lay still, a deep quiet settling over the clearing as though the breeze had stilled its winds and the leaves ceased their whispers. The evening sun kissed the earth with its crimson gaze, painting the tall grasses in a blazing hue as though the grove had caught fire and burned under its rays.
Suddenly, a rustle disturbed the tranquility. Ebonheim stirred at the sound and shifted her eyes to where it came from.
From the grove's edge, the ferns shivered, parting as a figure slithered forth.
The figure's upper body was that of a powerful woman, her strength evident in the corded muscles and the imperious set of her shoulders. Her visage bore an exotic allure, features distinctly serpentine in nature, with sharp fangs peeking from the edges of her lips.
Ebonheim's gaze was drawn upward to a crown of writhing serpents that hissed and curled atop her head, their scales of midnight black glistening like strewn obsidian. Each serpent appeared to have a mind of its own, weaving across her forehead and descending downwards to circle her neck in an adornment of living coils. As she watched, one of the serpents flicked its tongue, tasting the air around them.
She found her gaze locked with the woman's slit-pupil eyes. The emerald green irises glowed with an eerie, unnerving light, and in that chilling, endless gaze, she sensed an ancient coldness that ran bone-deep and seeped into her marrow like frost on the first day of winter.
A chill coursed down Ebonheim's spine, but she forced herself to keep her composure and swallowed against the dryness in her throat as she watched the woman approach them.
The stranger was draped in regal attire, a rich, royal-purple tunic that clung to her muscular torso, clasped by a belt of gold and resplendent gemstones. Bone vambraces shielded her arms, adding to her already formidable appearance.
Ebonheim followed the transition of her body with a fascinated gaze. Where a woman's hips and legs would be, the figure possessed a muscular tail, as thick as a tree trunk and easily thrice the length of a man, layered with midnight scales that glinted darkly. As the tail swayed and swished through the underbrush, Ebonheim noted that the end tapered into a barbed tip with the smallest hint of venom glistening from its edge.
Slowly, the woman made her way towards them, the snapping of twigs and rustling of leaves trailing behind her.
Serrandyl crouched behind Ebonheim, her hair on end and a hiss escaping her lips as she turned to face the stranger, baring her fangs and growling like a rabid beast.
The serpents on the woman's head hissed back in response, their eyes narrowed as they stared Serrandyl down, as though they were mocking her with their natural ferocity.
As the woman approached, she drew herself up to her full height, towering over them, her tail flicking from side to side as she slithered forth. Her gaze swept over each one of them before settling on Ebonheim as she addressed her with a low hiss. "So," she said as she curled her upper body around to face Ebonheim, "you are the little goddess that has taken up residence in this part of the world."
Ebonheim felt her spine stiffen, but she held her ground, meeting the woman's gaze with an unflinching stare. "I am," she said, her voice even.
"Fascinating," the woman said, her tongue flicking through the air as she regarded Ebonheim with an appraising stare. "Go on. Announce your name. Gods do love to speak out their names at every opportune time."
Ebonheim kept her gaze locked on the woman as she answered, "I am Ebonheim."
A low hiss escaped the woman's lips before she leaned her upper body forward, looming over Ebonheim as she drew close enough for Ebonheim to feel her cold breath against her face. Serrandyl slinked away from them, choosing to huddle close to Aelindra instead.
Ebonheim maintained her cool gaze, meeting the woman's eyes as they locked together, neither one willing to look away or blink first.
"Ebonheim," the woman repeated, her tone laced with amusement. "A curious name for a curious little deity."
"So, who might you be?" Ebonheim asked, ignoring her last comment as she watched the serpents on her head rise and curl around her neck again as though they were embracing their mistress.
A cold smirk curled on the woman's lips before she answered. "You may call me Calyxia," she said as she continued to gaze at Ebonheim with that unnerving stare, "and I am the lord of the southern reaches of this valley."
"It's a pleasure to meet you." Ebonheim kept her tone cool and composed, though inwardly, she felt her skin crawl under Calyxia's gaze. It was almost like being in the Divine Auction again, except this time, it wasn't curious stares thrown her way but a cold, piercing gaze. "You have quite the imposing presence."
Calyxia let out a low chuckle as she leaned her upper body away from Ebonheim and waved her tail in a lazy motion. "Is that a compliment?"
Ebonheim let out a soft laugh and shrugged nonchalantly. "Take it as you will."
Calyxia gave Ebonheim an appraising glance before she turned her gaze to the clearing around them. "Well," she said, "For once, I am not the last to arrive. How quaint." With that, Calyxia slithered into the clearing to join Elmsworth's side, leaving Ebonheim alone to contemplate their exchange.
Once Calyxia had made herself comfortable and settled down next to Elmsworth, a thunderous gust of wind rushed past the clearing, scattering leaves in a riot of color. Ebonheim squinted against the sudden onslaught, her eyes watering as she covered her face with her arm to brace against the winds that buffeted them.
In the heart of the tempest, she discerned a silhouette, a shape unfamiliar and as wild as the gusts that heralded its arrival. Without a hint of sound, the shape descended, the winds obediently clearing a path. As the figure touched the earth, the gale subsided, leaving an echo of its fury in the rustling leaves and the ripples coursing through the grassy grove.
Ebonheim looked up at the new stranger—her form an alluring fusion of avian and human. Her expansive wings, a cosmic canvas of azure and stark white, caught the sun's dwindling rays, casting a shimmering spectrum over the verdant landscape.
Unfazed by Ebonheim's gaze upon her, the woman straightened her stance, an unspoken challenge resonating from her posture. Her eyes, a stormy blue, bore an unblinking intensity as she held her gaze on Ebonheim. Her long hair was a cascade of glimmering white feathers, a magnificent blend of iridescence and alabaster that drifted along in the breeze.
The woman—or was it a bird?—smiled at Ebonheim, revealing a row of sharp, white fangs as she gave her a low bow before stepping forward, her taloned feet crunching against the leaf-littered ground. She unfurled her wings, arching them high above her head as she greeted the gathered group. "Good evening," she said with a musical voice. "I am Liselotte of the North."
Another lordly arrival. This one is a bird-woman? Was she some sort of beastkin? No, Ivera or Elmsworth would have mentioned it. This one is...
"She's a Harpy," Serrandyl whispered in her ear, her eyes wide as saucers as clung onto Ebonheim's back.
"Harpy queen!" Liselotte corrected, a feral gleam in her eyes. "Don't you dare forget it."
Calyxia responded with an annoyed hiss while Serrandyl quivered like a terrified fawn under Liselotte's gaze.
Liselotte took a quick glance at Calyxia before turning back to Ebonheim with a slight smirk on her lips. There was a moment of silence before the harpy moved again. This time, she folded her wings, drawing them close against her body as she knelt before Ebonheim and lowered her head until her face was almost at eye level with her. "And you must be the little god I've heard so much about."
Deja vu—Ebonheim had been on the receiving end of a similar greeting just moments earlier. "I'm Ebonheim," she said with a polite nod, "it's nice to meet you."
Liselotte rose again with a swift flutter of her wings as she cast another glance at Calyxia before turning back to Ebonheim again. "Ebonheim. Yes, I've heard a lot about you from Elmsworth. I've been told that you're quite a capable little goddess."
Ebonheim tilted her head in acknowledgment as she offered the harpy a small smile. "Well, thank you."
Liselotte smiled back and spread her wings again, letting out a contented sigh as she stretched them out to their fullest. "Phew. It's good to be back." Liselotte turned her gaze towards Calyxia and flashed her a feral grin. "See? Not the last one, but not the first either. If ol' Kelzryn were here, you wouldn't be graced with my presence. Rest assured, he won't come."
"Because he has no reason to," Calyxia snapped with a venomous glare. "All that's left is to wait for Nillen to show up."
Liselotte clicked her tongue and let out a dismissive scoff before settling down beside Calyxia with an indignant huff. "Funny how you can be so snippy when Nillen's not around," she said as she draped a winged arm around Calyxia's shoulders and pulled her in close. "Or do you just enjoy showing off your cute face?"
Calyxia's serpents hissed and writhed in response, causing Liselotte to reel back in mock surrender.
Liselotte shifted her gaze to Serrandyl and bit the air with an exaggerated chomp.
Serrandyl let out a low whine and cuddled even closer against Ebonheim's back, trembling like a frightened little child as she tried to bury her head in the crook of Ebonheim's neck. "I want to go home," Serrandyl whispered as she gripped Ebonheim's shoulder, "I want to go home."
Ebonheim glanced at her with a blank look and spoke dryly. "You wanted to come. If you leave my side now, you might end up as their food on your way back."