Arakiel pulled the camel’s reigns, causing it to come to a stop just behind the others who were just dismounting on Ezekiel’s signal.
The air had become relatively clear and the surrounding forest offered plenty of shade, which his agitated skin certainly approved of. In addition, his nose had slowly begun to ignore the iron smell of blood alongside several other unpleasant odors, all in favor of his sister’s lilac perfume.
He had to assume that she carried a few bags with her that he wasn’t aware of, but he certainly wouldn’t pry at a girl’s private belongings, much less his little sister’s.
There was a clearing in the relatively thick forest not too far away, a clearing that had small huts built there. Charburners, apparently – people who burnt wood to coals which could then be used to fuel hearths and the like. Such jobs had long since died out in Kalanaar, their services no longer required.
He felt quite a sizable ache in his lower body when he dismounted first, after which he more or less heaved his little sister out of the saddle first before he helped Aurora. The two seemed fine, unlike him, but he had to just walk it off.
The others were already gathering in the front, looking further out along the trail they had followed for the last several hours.
The trail of blood had intensified here and just a bit further, he saw a dying horse lying on the ground, a pool of blood having formed underneath it. Its colorful barding was splattered with blood, although not its own and the pitiful neighs it gave off pointed to suffering.
“Didn’t even offer his horse the last rites, the bastard.” Zari Amar said in a low, angry tone and judging by his fellow natives’ nodding, this was something that one did.
To rectify the count’s mistake, the jinnum walked over towards the horse. He knelt down, lifted the mail barding and then thrust into the horse’s neck with a swift, decisive motion.
One last gasp, and then silence.
Next to him, Arkiel saw Mellia’s body turn away. Her large hood still masked her countenance, but he just assumed she turned away to not witness the animal’s final moment.
At the same time, Aurora squeezed his hand, her fear of too much blood seemingly overcome for the time being.
“Let’s go,” Ezekiel said, beckoning the others to follow him further along the trail.
The group quickly tied the camels to some nearby trees and headed out.
Mellia stuck close to him, but when he offered her his hand, he well-imagined her throwing him a rather disappointed gaze.
With a sigh, he and Aurora followed the others and although it hurt to walk normally, he would not look like a clown. His pride forbid it.
Despite their size, the collection of natives and planeswalkers moved with relatively decent speed and more importantly, silence. There were the occasional branches that that let out a little snapping noise alongside the crunch of their boots on the soil below. The forest itself was much more noisy, with birds happily chirping in the distance while just about everywhere, things were buzzing about alongside the occasional rustle when something small moved through the relatively thick underbrush.
After about ten minutes, Ezekiel made the party stop while putting a finger onto his lips, not that anyone needed a reminder to be quiet as the forest did indeed open into a relatively wide clearing, one that housed a total of four opposing huts made of cut logs alongside three bonfires where the charcoal was being made.
A bit of smoke emerged from the closest hut and three horses were tied to a pole near it. A few men were hurrying from one hut to another one, the one closest. Judging by the simple earthen-colored tunics covered in soot alongside the grime-covered faces, these people had the be charburners and they seemed agitated. The men carried earthenware jugs and what seemed to be bandages.
“I recognize these horses,” Rahul whispered very quietly. “They’re here.”
“Let’s prepare and then jump them – we only need Fillan.” Zari Amar spoke as his body began to flare up in yellow flames.
“Allow me,” ibun Qasim spoke as he touched both Rahul and Zari Amar, causing their skin to briefly flash up after which it held a faint, light shimmer. If Arakiel had to take a guess, it was either iron- or stoneskin, one of the most widespread and popular earth enchantments given its incredible protective value as it stacked on top of any equipment one wore. To make it even better, any level one Earth Enchanter could cast stoneskin, whereas its superior version was learned with level three. Arakiel never had the pleasure of having it cast upon himself, but when the middle-aged man motioned for him and Ezekiel, he did not shy away. Ibun Qasim’s touch was brief and although Arakiel saw his skin briefly flash, he did not feel hampered in any way even when it began to glow so very faintly afterwards. One had to know it was there to make it out. An exceedingly useful enchantment, this.
The rest of the buffs were applied swiftly, with Aurora using her last golden shard to wreath Ezekiel into a thin golden barrier and then, it was time to strike.
Ezekiel and Rahul were the vanguard, with Arakiel and Zari Amar intending to strike from the flank or rear whenever their opponents were distracted. Lastly, the archer whose name Arakiel couldn’t pronounce remained in the back, guarding not only the Enchanters, but also ensuring that none would fall into their backs.
Arakiel took on Aurora’s aspect, keeping an otherwise low profile as he hurried after Ezekiel and Rahul onto the clearing, right towards the house where the two charburners had vanished.
They took position next to the wooden entrance and although faintly, Arakiel heard voices inside, a man drawing in sharp breath as if in pain and another telling him to not act like a damsel. Briefly afterwards, another man with a deeper but obsequious voice mentioned that he’d get more water, right after which the door was opened.
The charburner made a step outside, right after which a feathered arrow pierced his neck. He guy’s eyes widened briefly in shock, and then he sank to the ground, dead.
Inside, someone was yelling words of warning in an alarmed tone, with another one demanding time. The last few begged their lords to save them.
Zari Amar put his hands against the wooden cabin and flared up in smokeless lemon yellow while Ezekiel prepared to coil forth the moment someone came outside.
With the door open, Arakiel had an idea and ran circled around a bit as he drew upon one of the last remaining red shards of his seraphim. He wove Aurora’s golden fire into being, which he then lobbed straight into the cabin, right onto mattresses of dried straw which were set ablaze with golden fire in an instant.
Curses resounded from inside with a man loudly urging Count Fillan to put out the fire.
Zari Amar did not give the Middles the time to properly reorganize as he charged in while heightening the fire shield around him and in a matter of seconds, the entire hut was aflame in yellow and golden fire.
Ezekiel cursed lightly, but remained in position.
As a Fire Alterator, Zari Amar had a much, much higher tolerance to flame, but the men inside most likely did not – and they were trapped inside, with the only path forward beset by their enemies.
The charburners were the first to dash outside in panic, only to be immediately struck down by Ezekiel and Rahul while inside, one of the dismounted riders had begun to engage Zari Amar if the sounds of steel meeting steel still spoke true.
The men called for their count to put out the flames in increasingly frantic voices while Arakiel had another idea, one that had to make the difference.
Drawing upon the white of the dawnshard in his hand, he focused on the concepts of ‘wind’ and ‘push’ and when he felt the white color rush out, he dashed towards the entrance and cast right into the house’s center.
His evocation caused a gust of wind to rush inside the charburner’s hut and while its inventory had caught a decent amount of fire before, the faint golden winds Arakiel bore down onto the flames were not strong enough to extinguish them – quite the opposite. His winds stoked the flames to a conflagration, enough to set all people inside ablaze, including Zari Amar who shouted that it was hot, but not in a painful but excited manner.
The other four men, not so much.
Three partially armored Middles became panicked, living torches while the count in the back was the only one to remain calm, his blonde, bearded face one of grim determination. As soon as the flame attempted to connect to him, it sizzled and then a cloud of steam formed around the count as he charged through the flames, right towards Arakiel.
He was fast, fast enough to dash past Zari Amar, but not quick enough to catch Arakiel who hurried to side, announcing the count’s charge.
As soon as the heavily armored man dashed outside, Ezekiel and Rahul jumped him. Or, to be more precise, Ezekiel made him trip with a sudden move of his halberd’s long handle after which the beefcake Rahul quite literally jumped on top of the disoriented man who still wore his entire plate armor except for his helmet.
Exploiting the man’s dazed state, Rahul lifted the count’s sword arm and buried a dagger deep inside, causing the other man to scream out in pain. At the same time, he let go of his longsword.
The fight was over before it even began, the Middles having been caught flat-footed.
While the three living torches inside were still desperately trying to put out of the flames, Rahul quickly disabled the soaked count’s other arm before he knocked the man unconscious with a strong blow to the back of his head.
Meanwhile, Ezekiel asked whether they should put out the fire to get the other guys’ loot even if Arakiel had no idea how he intended to do that.
Zari Amar emerged from inside the golden-yellow flames and shook his head, stating that the Middles were suffering just retribution for their heinous crimes. Then, he inquired whether the count had been secured, which Rahul affirmed.
Ezekiel looked over towards Arakiel as if to ask something specific. Arakiel could only offer him a slight shrug, unsure what his party member wanted to convey. When the silver-flamed man then gestured at himself, more specifically his clothes, Arakiel gtt a hunch when he looked the knocked out count over one more time.
He just might be about Ezekiel’s height and build.
“Our previous planeswalk left us in tatters,” Arakiel said as he looked over towards Zari Amar, who watched the screaming, dying man with glee, not a hint of compassion in his eyes.
“I request the count’s equipment for Ezekiel if it fits.”
The jinnum turned around, his eyes briefly showing surprise, and then he nodded, saying. “Your skills were essential in his capture. You have earned that right, divine envoys.”
“Call me Arakiel. He’s Ezekiel.” Arakiel responded, feeling a little awkward. He might be divine, but if he was, then he was the planes’ weakest divine being – not something to be proud of.
“Truly divine names, if I may say so!” Rahul complimented as he got up, the small giant’s size once again catching Arakiel’s attention. He was so incredibly broad-shouldered… was he even human?
“Well then, Arakiel, Ezekiel. To the victor, the spoils.” Zari Amar noted as his own fire began to fade, returning back inside him.
The way the jinnum flared his fire was not something a normal Fire Alterator should be able to do. He had to have picked the same school again upon reaching level five, which would allow stacking to a limited degree. For example, a Double Earth Alterator could stack stone- and ironskin on himself and as great as that might sound, it did limit one’s set of abilities quite a bit. Most mages preferred to pick two or maybe even three schools before they specialized at either level 10 or 15.
“Let’s get away from the fire, first. It’ll spread soon.” Arakiel suggested and as he turned around, he beheld the three horses in colorful barding that were nervously looking over towards the burning hit. “Look, the Middles’ even left us a little present.”
The party quickly wrapped things up. Zari Amar and the archer were scouring the charburners’ homes, bringing along some cured meat, cheese and skins full of water and wine. Meanwhile, Arakiel and Ezekiel had collected and soothed the horses while Rahul dragged the count away from the clearing first.
At the edge, Ezekiel and the small giant began to strip the unconscious count of his plate armor, his mail, the aketon and the silken tunic and even tights underneath, leaving him with nothing but smallclothes which were also silken, but that’s where Ezekiel drew the line.
As it turned out, the armor was not only well-made, but the cuirass even had the markings of an Earth Constructor, a legitimate artifact. A low level one for sure, but this was quite the nice discovery.
All artifacts, no matter how weak, needed the power of several – often multiple dozens – of shards to be forged and even then the quality differed wildly depending on the smith, the Constructor. This admittedly mundane-looking cuirass was fairly heavyweight, but it was exceptionally durable and Arakiel doubted that any mundane weapon could pierce it unless wielded by someone very strong.
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Its presence here alluded to a Site on this place, place where one could harvest the raw essence of magic from time to time.
This alone would make it worthwhile to seize control of the plane.
The cuirass didn’t fit Ezekiel like a glove, but when he had put on all of the count’s other items, it was more or less stable, even if it was fairly heavy, but Ezekiel could partially remedy that with his wind alterations.
More importantly, it meant that Ezekiel had more or less acquired an entire set of gear. A halberd, the count’s well-made steel longsword as a sidearm and a full set of armor with padding – well, except the helmet, but there had been plenty back at the battlefield.
Arakiel had… nothing yet, but he’d just fleece some guy back at the site of battle if need be. He wouldn’t be wearing these tatters any longer.
With everything taken and accounted for, the archer with a too-complex name gave the count some basic first aid so he wouldn’t bleed out after which he flung him over one of the horse’s saddles.
It briefly reminded Arakiel of his own stab wound that had closed up at this point, Mellia’s enchantments proving its worth once again. He’d need to properly convey his thanks to her at some later point.
Arakiel requested another horse for himself, Aurora and Mellia while Ezekiel called dibs on the last available horse. They were still a thing in Kalanaar, although rarely at this point. They couldn’t be brought along on planeswalks, so their use was rather limited to planeswalkers.
Once again, the natives did not deny their requests, claiming that they had earned it with their deeds. It was a mind set that Arakiel could get behind, especially as it benefited them greatly for now. Their lack of equipment had been a major problem and if it was rectified this way, all the better.
The way back was relatively uncomplicated and a little later, they found the dead horse and the camels. At this point, the archer requested to stay behind in order to make proper use of the horse’s remains, something Zari Amar permitted.
The group left him a camel while the jinnum took over the archer’s position, taking charge of the unconscious count.
The sun was about to set by the time they reached the battlefield, where the remaining natives had been busy.
The Middles’ corpses had been stripped of everything including their smallclothes, after which the nude, bloodied bodies had been thrown onto a pile. On the flipside, the desert dwellers had managed to dig a grave for every dead at the foot of the slope, each grave facing towards the west. A tiny pile of pebbles marked each of the twenty-seven graves, leaving behind eight warriors that remained standing while double that amount had been put on makeshift pallets which were then laid onto the flat wheelbarrow carts.
The hunting party’s successful return was met with excited cheers and praises for al-Aliriq in addition to insults along curses upon the Middles and their ruler, King Cahir. When Zari Amar presented the count, the already high amount of respect and perhaps even adoration that his men showed the jinnum went through the roof, even more so when Zari Amar proclaimed a feast to be held as it was utterly unthinkable to leave this much food behind.
At that point, anyone who could still move about began to prepare and over the course of the next hours, they’d undoubtedly create a decent atmosphere to hold a feast.
Arakiel, however, immediately sought out the piles of equipment that had been more or less carelessly dropped at the side and upon query, he learned that the natives intended to put everything to the torch that they could not carry along.
It vexed Arakiel quite a bit, but he didn’t want to reveal his Spatial Ring’s power to the natives just yet. He would’ve liked to bring some goods along for sale, but he might need to make due with whatever remained.
He briefly argued with one of the natives who had tried to keep him away, but when Arakiel repeatedly pointed to his dissolving clothes, he got the man to listen and when Aurora suddenly plead in from the side about something else entirely, the man stepped away while his eyes constantly remained on the golden-haired seraphim – most notably her wings.
After the desert dweller had left, Arakiel pulled out the little slip of paper and, for the first time, properly went through the list and when he found a wooden case, he was positively surprised but also confused.
The more he mulled over it, the more it seemed as though his mother had planned for the whole thing. Had she truly been aware of Shemyaza’s plan?
He had never talked about it to anyone and he had further been very secretive whenever he…
Maybe she had recognized Aurora for what she was… most likely, she had. And if she knew about this ritual… her putting trust in him suddenly made him even more confident that things might’ve turned out excellent after all.
When he procured the finely-crafted wooden suitcase from the spatial ring, Aurora’s eyes widened and she immediately kissed him several times over after which she took hold of the case, put it on the ground and then opened it with trembling hands.
When she found a darkly-colored violin and matching bow inside, she jumped for joy, her wings excitedly fluttering enough that she briefly, ever so briefly lifted off which made her panic at first, but then she just laughed out loud happily after being grounded again.
The sight of his seraphim being overjoyed filled his own heart with warmth and he recognized the instrument only on his second glance – it was the one she had used to captivate him on their ‘anniversary’.
On the one hand, he couldn’t wait to hear her play again… on the other, he dreaded what else she might unearth.
Sticking to the issue at hand, he began to sift through the pile of clothes for something he could wear until he was able to buy or procure something new and fresh.
Most clothes were slashed, bloody and downright unwearable, but after some time, he did find a pair of decent boots that more or less fit him alongside a pair of dark, greenish trousers in addition to an unblemished shirt and an akteon that had only suffered minor grazes.
More importantly, he found a belt with an attached sheath where he could put an actual sidearm as he had to discard the earlier broadsword since he had no way to bring it along with Mellia and Aurora flanking him from either side.
The clothes smelled of sweat, earth and blood – but it was better than the strips he had worn before.
Aurora still wore the dress he had snatched from the corner shop and although it had suffered in the desert, it was still more or less wearable. Not that she cared right now, the instrument taking up all her attention.
Just as he tied the boots, Ezekiel approached with Selene in tow while some of the natives glanced towards the seraphim from where the feast would soon be held, the preparations in full swing.
Mellia was close to him as well, but she had remained utterly silent for the past hours. He wasn’t sure if something troubled her, but he’d certainly speak to her later on if she was willing.
“Looking much better already, Arakiel.” Ezekiel greeted while handing him a dark leather waterskin. “Sweet wine inside, packs quite a punch.”
The short-haired blonde man looked like a proper fighter now. The steel cuirass gleamed slightly in the last rays of the setting sun while the mail fell neatly and tidily all the way down to his knees, like a proper overcoat. The dark aketon was barely visible underneath, but the thick, padded trousers at least alluded to its existence.
Arakiel grabbed, uncorked and then took a whiff. It did smell exceedingly sweet and quite pungent. Undoubtedly grapes. Not bad at all.
“You sure we should be drinking right now?” Arakiel asked while looking around. Right now, only a single native glanced towards Selene. The others were busy.
“I don’t expect these people to jump us.” Ezekiel answered, giving him a slight smile.
“Yet you’re still wearing all of that,” Arakiel observed and then took a sip. It was good wine, but a bit too acidic for his taste.
“Gotta get used to the weight. I doubt I’ll be wearing this when we return to the desert, though.”
“You think we should go?” Arakiel inquired, subconsciously taking another sip. It felt good to wet one’s lips again.
He handed the waterskin back to Ezekiel, who took another gulp right away after which he outlined his reasoning. “I think we should. They’re full of hate, which is good. We can direct that.”
“We’ve no idea how powerful the other factions are.” Arakiel pointed out while finishing up with his new boots. They were a bit wide, but nothing an additional pair of socks couldn’t fix.
“Not yet, but the count will surely give us an insight or two, don’t you think?”
“I do expect quite a treasure trove of information… it’s just, I’m not sure we should immediately ally with one of the apparently three factions?” Arakiel noted with some doubt. He was still torn on the overall subject.
“Isn’t it rare to ally with a faction at all? We’re two dudes, Arakiel. We can’t conquer this plane in a traditional sense.” Ezekiel retorted and although had to agree, he didn’t immediately agree.
“I am aware… I just dislike putting all my baskets into one egg…” He answered and then paused, hurrying to correct. “No wait, the other way around!”
To the side, he heard Mellia giggle softly while Aurora was still enamored with her violin.
Ezekiel gave him a deadpan stare. “You’re bad at this.”
“Someone liked it,” Arakiel defended.
“Anyway, it’s what I propose. They won’t backstab us and their hate is real, Arakiel. We can use that, guide them – make them fight our battle.”
“I am aware, I really am,” Arakiel affirmed, having thought in a similar vein already. Still, he had doubts. “It’s risky.”
“No risk, no gain. This isn’t as risky as traveling further to the Middles and hoping they are as amicable. Especially as there’s a forest burning in golden fire right now – I wonder who wields golden fire, huh?”
“Alright, alright – you made your point, Ezekiel. Let’s do that, then.”
Ezekiel handed him the waterskin once more, his tone uplifting. “To think you’d ever listen to me, Arakiel – you’re not such an arrogant piece of shit anymore.”
“I knew better back then,” Arakiel objected right away.
“You claimed to, but you knew nothing.” Ezekiel returned immediately.
“I was the reason we got into the Kaukones’ Bank in the first place, Ezekiel! Without me and my meticulous planning, you wouldn’t have been able to steal a glance at the treasure!” Arakiel felt the need to remind his ‘partner-in-crime’.
“Meticulous planning? You failed to account for a shift in the guard!” Ezekiel responded, throwing his hands up in disbelief.
Arakiel felt color rushing to his cheeks, and not because of the alcohol. “It was an emergency shift! How could I know!?” He tried to claim, but it had really been his mistake.
“I don’t know… you could’ve asked the guy I brought you!? To think you were so lousy at interrogations, I should’ve just stayed there or made you a list of questions or something.”
“It was a girl,” Arakiel corrected flat-out.
“Burly, short hair, nothing on the front or the back. A guy in my book,” Ezekiel deflected and sighed. “Anyway, we should probably debate our moves as you like to leave out minor but kind of important details.”
“Such as!?” Arakiel challenged.
“Oh I don’t know… how about the whole blowing up the whole cabin thing? The count could’ve died. Or one of us, had we charged in.” Ezekiel noted with some displeasure.
“He’s a Water Alterator, no way he dies from a little fire,” Arakiel defended.
“You were to remain in the second line, Arakiel. When we have a plan, you don’t just change it on the fly! You’re not working alone anymore.” Ezekiel outlined in a rather serious tone.
Arakiel took another sip, pausing. After a short while, he nodded. “Alright. I’ll leave the tactical battle to you. I’ll do the strategy.”
As a token of apology, he handed the wine back to Ezekiel, who emptied the waterskin with gusto.
“I’m glad we have an understanding.”
The fighter turned to the side, his gaze turning authoritative. “Selene, if you manage to please me tonight, I’ll have a special gift for you.”
Arakiel stopped listening and got up, turning towards Aurora, who had just put the instrument back into the case. “You don’t want to play, my love?”
She shook her head, picked it up and then turned towards him, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. Her gold gleamed so very tantalizing in the last ray of the setting sun. “I only play for you, my love.”
Arakiel felt pride swell in his chest and he was unable to suppress a slight, arrogant smirk. He quickly overplayed it and approached her, putting his arms around her waist after which he pulled her closer.
In return, she slid one arm around him while her wings jumped in for the arm that held the case. Even now, she only had a faint scent of creamy cheese and grass around her.
“You reek, my love,” she stated in whisper, sounding slightly upset.
“Soon, we’ll be able to have a proper bath again.” He promised, hoping that the desert dwellers had indeed gleamed the secrets of bodily hygiene.
She lightly pulled away from him, looking him straight in the eyes. “It’s a promise?”
He gifted her a smile, nodding. “A promise.”
A kiss.
“And to sweeten the deal, I’ll throw in some new clothes for you as well.”
Aurora giggled lightly. “You’re just tired of me wearing the same dress for two weeks now.”
“I’ll never get tired of seeing you.” Arakiel returned and kissed her again. Her lips just tasted so very sweet, the faintest trace of vanilla shortbread on it.
Had Mellia shared some with her?
From the side, he heard Ezekiel’s voice taunting. “Get a room you two. Or in its absence, a bush.”
“Oh shut it!”
The feast ended up being a very joyous affair, with the planeswalkers taking a seat of honor next to Zari Amar, ibun Qasim and the two other mages, the last of which turned out to be an Astral Thaumaturge by the name of ibun Qadir. Arakiel was certain he’d eventually mix them up, but for now, it didn’t matter.
The Wind Alterator had returned at some point, bringing along lots of meat that was immediately put on whatever pointy end one could find in order to properly roast it over the fire.
Lots of wine and water flowed on that evening. Some of the men played on percussive instruments, causing those who were still able to dance in a wild and unrestrained manner and when the seraphim took the stage alongside their champions, everyone else watched in silence, all safe for the musicians who rose to the challenge that especially Aurora presented them.
She was like a tempest incarnate across the even soil. It briefly reminded Arakiel of the times he had danced with Marianka, who had also been exceedingly expressive as he had lacked the finer details on court dances, having barely attended any high-class events.
But the memory of his childhood love faded in favor of the golden-haired, golden-eyed seraphim that swung him around with increasing frequency, her joy and laughter infectious. It might’ve been the droves of wine, or maybe he was truly enjoying himself right now because as he danced with Aurora round and round, he just felt great, unrestrained – free. It had been a while since he truly laughed, but right now… he did.
He lost himself to the rhythmic sounds of the drums and at some point, he took on Aurora’s aspect when she had laid her soul’s fire bare for all to see. Occasionally, he saw Selene and Ezekiel dance in an entirely different manner, one that reminded him of a strict courtly dance, with Ezekiel leading and Selene following whereas Aurora and Arakiel were really just accelerating ever more while holding onto one another.
In a way, it reflected his feelings for the seraphim. He had once claimed to never promise anything to a slave, yet he had long since accepted that she was no such thing – and would never be again. She was his aurea, his joy, his delight and truly, his light of dawn.
Sometime later, when both were utterly spent and snuggling up to one another near a campfire while others took to the stage, Arakiel found himself looking over the band of the Shamshierum. All of them were dark-skinned like Rahul, with only Zari Amar having bronze skin. Everyone was fairly athletic and lanky – all except the one and only muscleman Rahul. The furrows on all their skin except Zari Amar’s spoke of a harsh life under the scorching sun.
A little later, when the second round of eating started, it seemed almost as though the desert dwellers were eating like there was no tomorrow as they grew more unhinged the longer the night went on. Even those who were on wounded on the flat wheelbarrows were stuffed to the brim and then some – to everyone’s delight.
Such an abundance of food had to be a true rarity – that’s the only conclusion Arakiel could draw.
He couldn’t fault them, the bread was a bit stale but overall tasty with a good crunch; the cheese was soft and creamy and the fruits, vegetables and little tidbits of sweets were a suitable palate of different tastes, be it sour, savory, sweet or something else entirely. Fresh food was always better than the cured, preserved things he had stored inside his Spatial Ring.
Eventually, most succumbed to fatigue or overgorging and even Arakiel had eaten his fair share. but he had thinned his wine later on. Aurora had fallen asleep in his arms and even Mellia had found something to rest on, not even waiting until he handed over the bedrolls. He had tried to speak to her, but she seemed lost in her own thoughts.
Most of the Shamshierumg were knocked out at this point and those who were not were close to. The mages, including Zari Amar, had snoozed off a while ago. Rahul was gorging himself on an entire wheel of cheese and seemed distracted enough.
Arakiel, however, was more interested in the guest that had been tied up and gagged before being thrown off to the side in plain view of his dead, robbed subordinates.
He carefully made his way over there and when he found Ezekiel kneeling next to the supposedly unconscious count, a cruel expression written across his face, Arakiel steeled himself for what was to come. It wasn’t that he felt pity for the man, but he most certainly would never want to be at Ezekiel’s mercy.