Arakiel il Kalanaar turned around and saw a relatively small person around the height of Aurora one or maybe two years ago. She was thoroughly enveloped by a wide, plain cloak with a large attached hood that completely disguised any details beneath. One could guess that she was relatively petite given the outline, but that was it.
“Who’s asking?” Arakiel returned politely as he tried to catch a glimpse of the newcomer’s face, but the hood was so deep that it was impossible to make out.
“A potential ally. I ask thee to to put trust in mine words and follow me.” The clear voice returned in a similarly polite manner, yet Arakiel thought to have noted a slight surprised – and pleased – undertone. Also, the way she spoke sounded a little off.
“Oi little lady, we grownups are talking.” Ezekiel chimed in from behind, sounding a little sour, but the fact that he labeled her as a child right away was a huge error on his part. Children couldn’t enter the temple of the Transcended by themselves and there was none in close proximity who Arakiel could tie to the young, cloaked woman.
“Where to? I cannot leave the temple right now.” Arakiel queried further, needing to state a few things outright. It was impossible
“I am aware,” the mysterious person answered in a knowing tone, thoroughly ignoring Ezekiel. That alone earned her points in Arakiel’s book. She then turned sideways, towards the basilica’s interior. “Follow me.”
“A moment, please.” Arakiel noted and then hurried to fetch Aurora while Ezekiel looked at him with a gaze that seemed to relay irritation, anger – perhaps something else entirely.
Whatever he wanted to convey, he did not wish the Moonguard to hear or see it.
When Arakiel then turned around to follow the woman, he heard Ezekiel click his tongue, noting. “Fine, sod off then! Not like I need you.”
“It’s not like you’re going anywhere,” Arakiel pointed out and then followed the mysterious newcomer who moved in such a way that it seemed like she was floating. Her wide cloak barely moved and her footsteps were swallowed by his own.
She aimed straight into the back of the right aisle, towards a brown-haired middle-aged man in a black robe with six grey stripes that seemed to be in prayer right until they came close.
The young woman addressed the priest with reverence, but without fear. That usually indicated that she was used to dealing with servants of the Transcended. “Honored Conduit, I beseech thee to grant us privacy.”
Arakiel watched the priest of the god-in-grey eye the cloaked young woman with a fatherly look and if there had been a smidgen of surprise about the way she addressed him, he masterfully concealed it – a skill that all priests of the Transcended possessed. Most had this patronizing air about them, while some veiled it with affection.
“Of course, honored member of our parish,” the man returned and then turned around.
Another hint. This person was a Kalanite, and one who the priest deemed wealthy enough to not ask for the payment upfront.
It had to be a messenger from his House, it was the only thing that made sense.
A glimmer of hope.
The priest led the three into a small enclosed wooden space on the side. These little chambers were used for buying favors from the church of the Transcended and the priests knew exactly whom to give the time of day and whom to reject.
He felt the Moonguards’ gazes in his back, but they held no authority here.
The ‘transaction chamber’ as it was sometimes referred to was small, utterly simple in its design and thoroughly soundproof with a permanent air array on each dimension of this little cubic space. Again, such a simple presentation but these six arrays alone were worth an entire house in the Colorchanging District.
The conduit, for that perfectly described a priest’s function, sat down one side of the small wooden table while three wooden chairs had been placed on the opposite side.
Arakiel didn’t know whether the priests had a Nature Constructor or maybe an Astral Thaumaturge hidden somewhere that crafted these on the spot, or whether there was a different number of chairs in each chamber, for whenever he had been here thus far, there had only been one or two chairs depending on whether he traveled alone or with someone else.
Later on, when he had become a Traveler, he had barely visited – for there had been no further need as Travelers could walk the planes by themselves and Arakiel had worked alone by that point.
The cloaked figure sat down in the central chair while he slowly took a seat on another one, ensuring that Aurora was properly snuggling up to him his arms. The very action strained his body, but he would not show weakness in front of any woman if he really couldn’t help it – especially one that was affiliated with his House.
“How can I assist you?” The priest then asked in a fatherly tone.
“I beseech a small amount of time to sort mine thoughts, conduit. This venerable structure left mine mind in tatters.” The young woman returned and Arakiel began to wonder whether she truly had such an odd antic of speech.
“Of course. Shall I give you some space, although I must add that any time spent here is allocated and will be accounted for.”
“I thank thee for thy discretion.” The young woman answered and the priest got up and left without giving any hint of what he thought.
As soon as he left, the woman turned sideways without getting up. She also did not remove her hood.
“Arakiel il Kalanaar,” she began, once again addressing him formally, but her tone sounded not quite as distant as earlier. “I had thought thyself to be above the common rabble, but thine attire is most unsuitable for one of thy station.”
He offered a defensive smile at the rather impolite statement. “Quite a lot has happened in the last 24 hours, forgive me, young lady… pardon, I must’ve missed your name.”
“Thine ignorance is lamentable, but expected.” She returned flat-out and then switched the topic, saying in a perfectly-leveled polite tone. “I have come to inform thee of matters that require thine attention. It is important.”
So she was a messenger, but why did she talk so weirdly? “Let’s hear it then,” he answered, still trying to figure out who she was. Alas, the plain grey fabric proved impervious to any gaze, whether curious or otherwise.
“Thy Lady and mother wishes to relay the following,” she began and then cleared her throat a little as though she wanted to directly quote the Lady Alexandrite, which she ended up doing by actually changing the way she spoke. She tried to imitate his mother’s voice, but failed in doing so, resulting in a rather amusing pitch. “Arakiel, my son, you are to leave Kalanaar posthaste alongside your aurea. It is not safe here and your father and I cannot protect you, for now. You have been implicated in a political intrigue against our House that runs deep – as to how far, I cannot say.”
The woman paused briefly and cleared her throat once again.
For now, Arakiel reserved his judgment, but it confirmed a few worrying things for now.
“Arakiel, I task you with a planeswalk of your choosing, but be aware; the outcome will dictate whether or not your House will see it fit to support you in your endeavors. Prove your worth and House Alexandrite will defend you as one of our own, fail to prove it and we will be forced to cut ties with you.”
Once again, the young woman had to clear her throat and for a moment, Arakiel wondered whether she had just let out a small, irritated sigh, but then she spoke up once more, still missing his mother’s voice by a sizable margin.
She had to be young, which was odd. Why would his mother send a teenager – and were there even teenage messengers that casually talked to priests?
He became a little suspicious.
“The time to chase fairy tales has drawn to a close, but I believe that you are now ready. Make me proud, my son. Make us proud.”
As soon as she finished, her voice returned to its intended pitch, but she sounded just a tiny bit hoarse. “Thus spoke Alexandria il Kalanaar, ruling demigoddess of the noble House Alexandrite.”
“Thank you for relaying the message, young lady.” Arakiel said right away, but the young woman immediately followed up, slightly interrupting him.
“Furthermore, there are additional matters that are in need of thine attention, Arakiel.”
He raised an eyebrow. Even more things? What had been asked him seemed impossible enough. He kept the question curt. “Which are?”
“I am to accompany thee on whatever plane thy chooses,” the young woman said and if Arakiel’s hearing wasn’t off, she didn’t seem too happy with it.
“Furthermore, I am to relay an item that has been bestowed upon me for safeguarding,” she went on and for the first time, he saw actual movement beneath her cloak.
And then, a relatively delicate, small hand of fair skin emerged from behind the grey fabric, showing a small grey ring in its slightly reddened palm. Judging by the wrist’s size, she was even more petite than Aurora.
But then his eyes focused onto the small grey piece of jewelry in her hand. It had a perfectly smooth grey texture and as he began to grasp what he was about to be given, his eyes widened to the point where they threatened to run off.
Ridiculous! Inconceivable!
“I require thine assistance,” the young woman then asked right away, staying true to her archaic style. It was kind of cute, but he could see himself getting annoyed by it rather quickly. Her voice was kind of nice, too – when it didn’t try to imitate his mother.
“What assistance doth thou require?” He felt himself answering while suppressing a little chuckle as his mind mulled over the implications of this little piece of jewelry.
“Don’t mock me!” The young woman cried out in an instant, her voice sounding genuinely upset. Furthermore, she had just sounded like a normal teenage girl now.
She immediately cleared her throat and for a brief moment, he saw movement beneath the cloak. “’Spare me thy mockery!” She barked then and he couldn’t help but think of her as cute and had great trouble not trying to come across as even more impolite.
“Forgive me, that was uncalled for,” he returned and judging by the little puff of air that followed, she seemed quite pleased with his apology.
“Thou art forgiven,” the young woman stated in a self-assured tone and then added in a slightly different, curious tone. “What is this?”
Arakiel’s gaze returned to the treasure in her hand. “A Spatial Ring,” he answered with reverence. “A treasure that one can only gain from the Transcended himself – a testament to his all-defying power.”
“What does it do?” The girl asked further, sounding more curious than anything.
He answered right away, his voice having begun to tremble a little. “As all things that relate to the god-in-grey, it seems incredibly mundane on first glance, but when you realize what it does… it leaves you in awe.”
“That is not an answer.” She pointed out flatly.
“It stores mundane items up to a set amount of weight, usually ranging from 50 to 150 kilograms, but it has limitations,” Arakiel began as he carefully, oh so carefully picked the small grey ring from the girl’s palm. It seemed weightless and from what he had heard, none knew the underlying magic, but the most-supported theory was that each Spatial Ring acted as a gateway to a pocket realm of Limbus, where the items were stored since food and the like spoiled at a much, much slower rate.
“Such as?” The messenger went on to ask, sounding very intrigued even if Arakiel wasn’t certain it related to the item or something unknown in general. Inquisitiveness was an excellent trait in today’s time and age, no matter the topic.
“No magic items of any kind, period. Neither shards, artifacts nor any items with an enchantment, even it’s only a fleeting array. There’s rumors of divine-sparked Spatial Rings that can store anything up to some ludicrously high weight limit, but I’m not sure that they even exist. I’ve only rarely seen my mother with a normal Spatial Ring, never mind a divine-sparked one.” Arakiel went on, briefly forgetting the time and place.
Ever since he had learned of their existence, he had wanted to get one but they were so ridiculously expensive that only the highest level parties could even afford one. As far as he was aware, only the first three direct descendants of House Alexandrite even had one.
And now his mother gave one to him?
It was truly inconceivable. Did it mean that she actually believed in him? If she thought he failed, she wouldn’t have given such an incredibly precious treasure to her. Did she know something he did not? No, she had to know about Aurora, so did it mean…?
He mind threatened to go off on a tangent again and Arakiel had to manually calm himself down and the best way to do that was to carefully slid the ring over his right hand’s annulary. It fit perfectly.
“Thine earlier statement rings true to me. This does sound mundane.” The girl stated with disappointment, relaying her absolute ignorance on the subject of planeswalking.
“It might be mundane,” Arakiel began as he rushed to the Spatial Ring’s defense. “But the value of such an item cannot be overstated! Baggage of any kind is bad, terrible even – especially on longer planeswalks. A Spatial Ring gets rid of the most basic necessities and can even turn them into trivialities! A hundred kilogram of portable, inaccessible space reserved for drinks, food and basic survival gear is truly a divine blessing when you’re out and alone in hostile territory. No need to forage and expose yourself, no need to raid villages that might draw attention onto you!”
“I see,” the young woman noted as though she actually tried to follow his line of thinking. “I can see merit in thine arguments. And I can now see why I am supposed to hand thee this letter.”
From beneath her cloak, she procured a small folded parchment that she held out for him to take, which he did right away.
He unfurled it and beheld a finely detailed list, a whole inventory of cured food, drinks, snacks, bedrolls and even some valuables, although no direct coin. Neither naara, greions or aeseons could fit into a Spatial Ring for they were magical by nature, having been infused by the tiniest sliver of divinity, hence the names: godgold, godbrass and godbronze.
All of a sudden, the task that his mother had set out for him didn’t seem impossible anymore. He had resigned himself to becoming a proper planeswalker anyway now that the ritual had failed… or maybe it had kind of worked. Either way, he could work with this!
“Thank you very much for your service, young lady. But why are you to accompany me… aren’t you a little young?” He found himself asking, the later sentence having come across as a little impolite.
“I shall let thee know that I have turned fourteen years of age in the current year. I am a proper, legal adult so stop with thine patronizing antics!” She returned in a manner that let him know that she had just taken offense, albeit not a lot.
It made no sense. Why would his mother send a fresh adolescent with him onto a potentially disastrous planeswalk? That usually happened when a pair of betrothed planeswalker descendants was put through a trial by fire to see whether a marriage would be beneficial and whether it’d withstand conflict in a life and death situation, for no matter the planeswalk, that was always applicable.
He looked the messenger girl over once more to make out any details, but besides her cute and quirky antics, he only knew that her mother had personally chosen her for this task.
It was probably true that he should begin to look for a wife, given that he would turn thirty this year, but…
“Forgive me for being blunt, my young lady… but what is your class? If I am to take you along, I need to know how to best make use of your talents.” Arakiel queried carefully. Some considered it improper to so brazenly ask such sensitive information when it wasn’t given freely.
“Would thee mind a little demonstration?” The young woman asked instead, thoroughly ignoring his question.
“Huh?”
“The Spatial Ring. Demonstrate its power to me, would thee be so kind?” She requested politely.
“I can’t,” Arakiel returned, quickly adding. “Temples of the Transcended are created on breaches into Limbus, which basically means that any magic that focuses on portals is hampered to the point where it straight up doesn’t work.”
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“Ah, I see,” the girl responded and then cleared her throat once more. “As for thine earlier question. I am an Enchantress.”
Enchanters of any kind were useful, for they didn’t need to have any combat experience to pull their weight. Besides, Arakiel fully supported the idea of a girl supporting a man. He was beginning to like this girl, even if he’d need to wait a few more years.
“As to my paths,” she began and Arakiel suddenly had a very bad premonition.
Paths. Plural. Young Enchantress that had a direct connection to his mother…
“They are Nature and Astral. You see, I am an ascendant.” The girl stated proudly, so proudly that she forgot her archaic speech, but Arakiel’s thoughts were elsewhere.
Any carnal desire he might’ve developed for the girl in the future died in an instant, instead being replaced by another desire, one whose intensity surprised even Arakiel.
“It is an honor to finally meet you, Lady Mellia… my little sister.” Arakiel greeted and straightened his back, looking the girl over with a newfound affection of another kind.
“Arakiel,” she began, deeming him unworthy of an honorific. It was to be expected, given his reputation. “I admit that I had pictured thee quite differently.”
Mellia. Here. What was going on!? She was their House’s newfound treasure… why did their mother send her with him onto something that people might interpret as a suicide mission?
“I would ask thee to stop staring. It makes me uncomfortable.” Mellia added in a slightly upset tone and he realized that he had indeed gawked at her.
“Forgive me, sister… I just, I can’t understand why you are here?” Arakiel felt the need to point out, to ask.
“I am as clueless as thee, Arakiel.” Mellia returned, sounding a little frustrated. “But mother’s orders are absolute. I am to accompany thee for the upcoming planeswalk and assist thee to the best of my abilities. In return, thou are required to safeguard mine life against any and all threats, even at the cost of thine life.”
“Lady Mellia, in light of the Gateway of Divinity’s splendor, I vow to protect you and your honor at the cost of my life!” Arakiel swore without second thought, staring right into where he thought her eyes to be.
If the Lady Alexandrite entrusted him with the safety of his little sister, then he had to rise to the challenge. In this regard, Lord Lyktos’ words suddenly resounded in Arakiel’s mind, reminding him that blood was indeed thicker than water.
He had never met Mellia until today, but his honor demanded he defend her until his dying breath.
“Thy oath comes off so easily, yet I cannot perceive deception in thine words.” His little sister noted, sounding positively surprised. “However, we should postpone extended introductions for later. What is thy plan, Arakiel? I am sworn to follow you.”
“Let’s call in the conduit, Let me lead the negotiations,” Arakiel returned, feeling the need to sit perfectly upright even if his wounds struck him with pain for his pride. It was a price he was willing to bear.
As if the conduit knew, he returned to the room just a few moments later, sitting down once more. Even worse, he immediately looked over towards Arakiel, asking in the same fatherly tone as earlier. “How can I serve an honored member of our parish?”
Arakiel looked the priest directly in his eyes, trying to discern anything of interest. He always liked doing that when speaking to servants of the Transcended – but as every single time before, they were impossible to read. So instead, he made his call, feeling oddly up to the ask all of a sudden. He had to, Aurora and Mellia depended on it.
“I seek a small portal to a minor, pristine plane. Its maximum level cannot exceed seven. If possible, I’d prefer one whose political structure is predominantly monarchic and chaotic,” Arakiel began, recalling all the details he had learned about picking a suitable plane in his early days.
A minor plane meant that it didn’t cover a massive stretch of land and more importantly, that no person above level seven in this case could travel there. They could level up above seven while staying there, but they wouldn’t be able to return even if it was their homeplane. Granted, even level seven was tough, but it was impossible to go lower, given how quickly one rose through the first five levels.
Pristine meant that the plane had little to no traffic by other planeswalkers, whether to or from. Subdued planes usually offered tribute every month or year which would make it easier and thus cheaper to travel there whenever it happened. It basically meant that they’d be unlikely to step on anyone’s toes if they stuck to an unconquered plane, which would make the strategic level much easier to calculate. In addition, tactical battles might be easier as well, given the natives’ light contact with the Class System so far.
The risk of immortal infestation was higher on such planes, but also highly unlikely for a minor one. Immortals were drawn to power and most immortals sought to influence the decisions on high-medium and major planes.
“Are there any further specifics, honored member of our parish?” The conduit queried calmly.
Arakiel briefly pondered and then said. “Not on the plane, no – but I’d like to check my status.”
The middle-aged priest nodded and then got up, turning around to the paneled, wooden wall. He approached it and then turned around, suddenly holding an orb on a steel tripod in his hand. The orb’s surface swirled with a grey, wafting mist.
The conduit placed the communion orb onto the table and Arakiel put out his hand, touching the smooth cool surface while closing his eyes. He knew the procedure, but the priests would always recount it either way.
“Thank you for your patronage, honored member of our parish,” the conduit stated and then said. “Place your hand on the orb, empty your mind and await further instructions.”
Inside his mind, Arakiel didn’t need to wait long to hear a voice address him, one that sounded vaguely male but it was kind of impossible to tell for certain. The Transcended – if it was truly him – always spoke in a distorted manner.
Arakiel, son of Demigoddess Alexandria, Seat of Alexandrite and Consort Erythrai. You are a citizen of the Eternal City of Kalanaar. You are considered capable. You are the guardian of Aurora li Arakiel, sister of Demigoddess Aurore ay Elysia, Seat of the Golden Chrysanthemum. You are a Mortal Ascendant of the lord-type, level one. The aspects of your chosen immortal are medium fire, high astral and low air. The covenant remains intact.
Do you wish to see your statline?
Arakiel affirmed internally.
Your current statline is as follows: six strength, eight agility, eight constitution, five intelligence, six charisma.
Do you require any further information?
He briefly pondered and then queried whether he could access his chosen immortal’s status.
Aurora li Arakiel, sister of Demigoddess Aurore ay Elysia, Seat of the Golden Chrysanthemum. She is considered incapable. Her guardian is Arakiel, son of Demigoddess Alexandria il Kalanaar, Seat of Alexandrite. She is ineligible for a class. Her aspects are medium fire, high astral and low air. The covenant remains intact.
Do you wish to see her statline?
Again, Arakiel affirmed.
Aurora li Arakiel’s statline is as follows: two strength, six agility, three constitution, six intelligence, ten charisma.
Do you require any further information?
This time, he denied after which he opened his eyes to the small chamber. That was a lot of information to process and mull over and he’d do so in time, but for now, he just took it at face value.
“Thank you, conduit. That was very enlightening.” Arakiel noted and put his right hand onto the table, saying. “You may claim the payment from the jewels inside.”
The priest nodded and briefly touched Arakiel’s Spatial Ring. “Please follow me. I shall open the path for you.”
“Follow me instead, honored Conduit.” Arakiel objected, an idea having already formed in his mind. It seemed feasible, given the situation.
“Very well, but I must remind you that anyone can claim your portal for her or himself once it is opened.” The priest warned. “I recommend we retreat to a portal room.”
“There is no need for that, and I am aware. Just close the portal after I have entered it.” Arakiel returned once again and then first took off the Spatial Ring, stuffing it into his half-burnt trouser’s pocket. Then, he carefully picked up Aurora, who was still unconscious and would likely remain so for a while. Not a lot of time had really passed since his brush with death, yet everything had changed.
His little sister got up as well, although it might be more prudent to think of her as the ascendant she was. An Astral-Nature Enchantress… a crosspath of two sorceries. That was rare – very rare. She might be young, but it wasn’t a question of if, but when she attained a spark of divinity.
Once they returned to the basilica proper, Arakiel headed straight back to the entrance, where Selene ast Rhea was currently speaking to Ezekiel, who more or less immediately spotted Arakiel. The handmaiden stood close-by, her expression a mixture of shock, disbelief and intrigue at her mistress’s behavior.
From what Arakiel could tell, there was only one Moonguard of a more slender stature remaining but he doubted that they’d just let him leave – not that he had any intention to.
His mother’s orders were absolute, not only for Mellia, but for him as well – and as little contact as Arakiel had with his family, he still respected its ways. If she told to leave posthaste, then he’d set out as soon as possible.
And honestly, he was somewhat optimistic about this whole endeavor, especially if he succeeded now.
“I want you to open the portal here,” Arakiel then requested towards the conduit, who nodded and then held out his pointing and middle finger, using it to draw a vertical line in the air.
Around him, a few other guests looked on with interest, but not enough to throw them off track.
Once the priest finished the motion, an elliptic tear of a lightly swirling grey mist opened without any sound at all. It just hung in the air, waiting. The conduit then spoke the traditional farewell to planeswalkers in a monotone calm voice. “May the Transcended’s light guide you on your path and may your expedition be filled with riches, bounties and conflict. Come back tempered or do not come back at all!”
This caused even more people to stare his way, most notably Ezekiel, Selene and her handmaiden. The Moonguard rushed outside.
Arakiel didn’t step through right away, nor did Mellia who most likely watched him with interest. Then, he turned towards the blonde-haired amethyst-eyed man with his long plain robe and his shackled wrists. “We meet again, my partner-in-crime! Say… would you mind going on a little planeswalk?”
“With you, now?” Ezekiel returned doubtfully, his eyes looking Arakiel and Aurora over. Then, his voice became acidic. “After you left me hanging out to dry, after turning me down and after thoroughly ignoring me just a little moment ago?”
Arakiel shrugged in an overly exaggerated manner while several members of the Moonguard stormed back inside. They began to secure the room, but kept some distance to them. “Why not? Seems like a good alternative to getting executed because you’re a bridesnatcher.”
Selene’s silver eyes watched Ezekiel closely and her handmaiden kept switching in between him and Arakiel, unsure whom she should feel more agitated about.
Ezekiel chuckled, his eyes briefly looking over to Selene. “It’s the guy’s fault for failing to protect his bride, wouldn’t you agree?”
“How dare you…!” The handmaiden began to shout, yet her voice was suddenly cut short. Her eyes widened in disbelief and she began to shiver all over while sinking to her knees.
One did not shout in the Transcended’s holy halls – she had just received the warning.
“Again we agree on something, Ezekiel!” Arakiel pointed out and both men began to chuckle lightly.
“What are you saying, Ma… Ezekiel!?” Selene then chimed in at last, her sweet voice relaying more confusion than anything. “You said you’d return to Selenya with me!”
“Did you now?” Arakiel asked with a raised eyebrow. “Thought you got caught.”
His opposite broke into a quiet laughter. “Me, caught? Arakiel, Arakiel… how little you think of me.”
“You promised to return home so that I could plead mercy for you!” Selene said a little louder while still aware enough to not shout. Her handmaiden was still struggling from the fallout.
“Selene, Selene… you need to learn to listen attentively when your Master speaks. It’s kind of your job.” Ezekiel then admonished, sounding overly disappointed, yet the way the Selenyean princess reacted told Arakiel a lot.
“W-what?”
“I said I would consider returning to Selenya with you as the last possible solution, I never promised you anything,” he went on and then stood up, slightly shaking his head. “You really aught to listen closely, Selene.”
“Your Highness! Do not listen to this man’s words,” the muffled voice of a female Moonguard chimed in from behind, with Ezekiel immediately objecting. “No, Selene, you should absolutely listen closely to my words. I hate correcting you.”
Arakiel watched the scene with genuine interest. It’d be preferable if Selene came along given that she most likely held the key to whichever powers Ezekiel might’ve unlocked through the ritual.
Mellia walked next to him, asking quietly. “Was this thine intent?” He affirmed.
The silver-haired imperial princess was obviously torn right from the get go, whatever conditioning Ezekiel had put into her still going strong.
The relatively small Moonguard in full plate armor approached Selene ast Rhea and once again, Arakiel noticed how there was absolutely no sound when she moved. A sound enchantment, perhaps? The sabatons had give off some kind of noise, but they did not.
Ezekiel gently held out his hands, slightly lifting Selene’s chin. “Look at me, Selene,” he ordered authoritatively and the silver-eyed woman did indeed look his way, her cheeks once again blushing right away. And then she could hold his gaze no longer, her white wings lowering notably. Down there, they trembled slightly, but not out of fear, but nervousness.
In this moment, Arakiel knew that she’d come along unless Ezekiel made a massive misstep now. It was such an effective, time-proven tactic that had created hundreds of thousands of happy slaves and servants especially. It was applicable against both sexes and especially effective against weak-minded, adolescent individuals… who most often ended up in slavery in the first place.
Selene ast Rhea had fallen for Ezekiel, especially now that he had turned into a truly handsome individual who had been the only one to give her emotional relief since her abduction. Arakiel further doubted that the life of an effectively breeding-mare was filled with too much happiness. Most likely, her education had been rather strict.
His gaze fell onto Aurora in his arms and he felt reminded of a similar story. His only differed in the fact that he, too, had kind of fallen in love with Aurora which was one of the worst mistakes a slave owner could make. But to him, Aurora wasn’t a slave any longer. She was his aurea and he’d treat her better than any other man could ever do.
Meanwhile, the Moonguard kept trying to remind Selene that anything she had suffered was temporary and could be remedied even within the class system, which was true – but every time she might try to stop and think about what the woman told her, Ezekiel reminded the smitten princess of another detail of their shared past. When he reminded her of the promise to cook for him from now on, Selene lightly lowered her head and whispered words of shy affirmation.
Ezekiel held out his hands and Selene took them, at which point he told her that she was a good girl indeed, making her fall even further into her own world.
When the Moonguard noticed, she addressed Ezekiel directly, saying. “I despise people like you, slaver.”
The amethyst-eyed man returned a cold gaze while smiling. “And yet the imperial court of Selenya is filled with hundreds of aureans, argents and aes – most of whom have been there for decades. Curious.”
“They are mere chattel,” the Moonguard tried to retort, but Ezekiel cut her short, asking and then answering right away.
“Decides who? The victor, the one with power. It’s that simple.”
“She is an imperial princess, not some common…!”
“Selene ast Rhea is my argent, my concubine.” Ezekiel stated matter-of-factly which caused the silver-haired girl that was as red as a beetroot to suddenly collapse.
Ezekiel’s outline blurred briefly and when it returned, he had caught her, his broken shackles just hitting the floor. His skin – not his clothes – were ablaze in silver flames and Arakiel noticed that the amethyst-colored irises gleamed with a faint silver halo, which he found very interesting indeed. Ezekiel lifted Selene up and when she slowly opened her eyes, her wings began to flutter nervously while she stared at him with awe and affection.
Ezekiel looked down at her first and then faced the Moonguard with a hateful gaze. “You have been at the apex too long, soldier. You cannot even understand that it’s your work that provides people like me with a steady stream of fresh meat, not that I’m complaining. When clapped in chains, everyone is the same – did you know that? Be it king, empress, prince or beggar.”
“You twist my words, slaver!” The Moonguard stated which Arakiel felt like wasn’t true. But he kept out of the conversation. Ezekiel was winning it handily anyway.
“It’s all a matter of perspective. One day, I might put you next to Selene and then the two of you would be the same: people having submitted to my power. That is all there is it.”
“That day won’t happen, because I will kill you slowly before that.” The Moonguard woman stated coldly and Arakiel was sure that she had lost her temper, which was considerable given that she was an imperial elite guard with a supposedly adamantite discipline.
Alas, anger was a strong emotion indeed, was it not?
“Feel free to try… remind me, what is your name? Mine is Ezekiel. No surname, cause there’s nothing left of my family. My big sister is most likely dead, or she wished that she was. Being sold to a whorehouse as a prisoner of war will do that, you know.”
“Mark my words, you lowly slaver. You will rue the day when you made Shirika ay Selenya, Moonmaiden in service to her Imperial Majesty Rhea ast Amitiel your enemy!”
“Shirika, eh? I’ll remember that name.” Ezekiel returned with a perfectly leveled smile, neither arrogant nor flattering. “And I look forward to the day when kneel in front of me, eyes eager to please. But for now, farewell. Make sure to keep a good shape. I’m rather critical when it comes to women’s bodies.”
Ezekiel turned to Arakiel, addressing him in a slightly smug voice. “Are we going, my quiet brother-in-crime? There’s nothing left here but ignorance.”
“After you, Master Ezekiel,” Arakiel chuckled and gave the man a slight nod as he stepped aside.
“Your Highness!” The handmaiden then exclaimed, having just recovered from the shock of her life, yet even as Ezekiel fearlessly stepped through the portal, Selene did not make any attempts to turn around. The young woman’s eyes widened and she scrambled to her feet, running after her.
“I’d recommend against that,” Arakiel said, addressing the handmaiden right away. “Your mistress is lost to you.”
“Curse you, Kalanite scum!” The handmaiden exclaimed, which caused Mellia to speak up, addressing the young woman with a surprising amount of anger.
“Guard thy tongue! Do not slander our fair city with thine wretched words!”
“Come, there’s nothing else for us here.” Arakiel noted and to his surprise, his little sister did not hesitate at all when she stepped through the gate, not even sparing the handmaiden another glance. Arakiel had been terribly afraid back then. Granted, he had been eight – but still.
“Curse you Kalanite!” The woman seethed again, coming closer. “Unhand Lady Selene right this instant!”
“She came along willingly,” Arakiel noted and then turned towards the swirling grey mass. Just before he left, he repeated his earlier warning. “I suggest you do not. Farewell, young lady – and farewell, Shirika ay Selenya. I hope we never meet again.”
“I hope so for your sake as well, Arakiel il Kalanaar. Next we meet, the Transcended will not be there to save you.”
He briefly turned around in full, looking straight into the woman’s silver mask that depicted a beautiful woman’s face. “You misunderstand, my lady. The Transcended did not save me, he just is. I saved myself from your enforcers who failed to bring me in.”
“You men do so love to twist words when they suit your narrative!” The handmaiden seethed, glaring icy daggers at him.
“Let it go, Lady Aithe, although I suggest you think long and hard about how you want to tell Her Majesty how you allowed her daughter to be seized like this.” Shirika noted coldly which caused the other woman to glare at her in disbelief.
“You want to pin this on me? It was you guards who…!”
Arakiel turned around and almost stepped through the portal, but then he recalled a tale. He knelt down and briefly freed one of his hands, which went right into his pocket. He quickly put on the Spatial Ring as there were rumors that they had to be meet skin whenever one was traversing through Limbus, lest they get lost.
And then, Arakiel picked up Aurora once more and stepped through the portal without looking back, leaving the two Selenyean woman to bicker over guilt.
There was nothing else to be gained here.