A few hours later, a welcome sight loomed over the pass ahead. Dūr-S̆innu - the fortress of the tooth - was nestled between two towering peaks. Like the famous walls of the capital city, the fortress’ battlements were covered in a thick coat of iron, impenetrable to even the best siege weapons or earth mages. Three great walls surrounded the central citadel which guarded the mountain pass, and as they drew near, he could see the guards patrolling on the walls, despite the increasingly hard snowfall. This was no ordinary fortress. Dūr-S̆innu guarded the only entrance into the Harei-Miqlat, the sacred homeland of the Djinn, surrounded on all sides by impenetrable mountains. Few passed through its fabled doors.
As he stood beneath the gates, Jasper felt puny. The massive metal doors towered forty feet high, flanked by two towers bristling with archers. The doors were closed, and he struggled to shout over the wind, as he waved his letter from Aphora at them. Finally, the guards decided to open the doors. They slid open slowly, the wet metal screeching as it dragged across the stone pavement.
A handful of guards were waiting for them as they stepped through the gates. They weren’t hostile, but their hands lingered close to their weapons One stepped forward, a short man with pale skin and a pair of curved, black horns that swept back along the sides of his head. “Hold up, travelers. What business do you have in the Harei?”
Jasper undid the scarf wrapped tightly around his face, letting the guards see his red skin. “I am of the people.” The guards’ postures immediately relaxed, and the guard bowed slightly towards Jasper. “I meant no disrespect, my lord.” My lord? Why did he call me that? The guard turned towards Ihra. “And the lady?” He hesitated. “I don’t mean to presume, but given the stag she is riding, I assume she is elven. Even for a noble, I cannot simply let her pass.”
Jasper dug in his bag and fished out Aphora’s letter. “I believe this will be sufficient to let her enter.”
The guard scanned the letter quickly and turned to one of the other guards. “Go get the captain, Ros̆ah.” She scurried off into the depths of the castle as the guard turned back to Jasper, apologetically explaining. “I do not have the authority to allow anyone not of the people to enter but,” he waved the letter, “I’m sure the captain will allow your lady to enter once he sees your letter. The Silver Lady is a great friend to our people.”
Jasper started to object that Ihra was not “his lady,” but thought better of it and bit his tongue. Best not to make waves. They waited for a few minutes, the snow-laden winds swirling about them, building up quickly now that the jostling motion of riding no longer brushed the snow off, until the captain emerged through the mists.
He was a massive specimen of a man, his bulging muscles visible even beneath the thick winter garb, but it was the four wings sprouting from his back that drew Jasper’s attention. The wings were covered in a thick blanket of feathers and fluttered softly, back and forth, even though the captain was not flying. He strode up to the two, and after perusing the letter, ushered them in. “Welcome home, my lord, my lady.”
The fortress gates slid shut behind them as they followed the captain across the courtyard. Two guards took their mounts and they were led inside. As they first stepped through the door, the welcome warmth rushed over them. The room was a tavern and a line of guards were drinking at the bar. In one corner, a guard was strumming a guitar, a merry band of drunkards singing raucously along, and the center of the room was dedicated to a roaring fire. Jasper examined it curiously, the fire pit resembling the one deep below the temple of Selene, the fire fed, not by wood, but by the strange amber liquid.
“My lord?” The captain’s words started him out of his reverie, and he realized the captain was looking at him expectantly.
“I’m sorry,” he apologized. “I’m afraid I drifted off there.” He waved his hands at the room. “After several days in the snow, the warmth of your tavern is welcome indeed.”
The captain smiled. “It is fortunate indeed that you made it here in time. The snow outside will probably continue for several days. I merely wished to know if you wanted to eat here, or go to your rooms.” He pointed to a small staircase in the corner of the tavern. “We can have a maid bring up your meals if you’d prefer.”
Jasper glanced at Ihra, and she shrugged. “I don’t care; whatever you prefer.”
“No need, then, captain. I’m happy to eat down here and enjoy the music and fire.”
The captain bowed slightly. “Very well, my lord. I must depart now and check on my men. Please, let me know if there is anything you need in the next few days.”
They got their food at the bar, the guards nodding at them, but Jasper wanted to sit closer to the fire. At first, it appeared that there was no one in the tavern except for the guards, who kept a respectful distance from the two of them. But as he neared the fire, he saw, seated on the other side, a traveler alone at a table. Jasper couldn’t get a good glimpse of them; their head was bent down over a map, scrutinizing it closely as they, from time to time, wrote down notes. Curious, he walked over to their table.
“Do you mind if we join you?”
The traveler looked up from the map. It was a woman. Her big brown eyes were framed by her equally brown hair which only fell to her shoulders in a cut that was almost like a bob. No antlers rose from her head, and a smattering of freckles ran across her upper cheeks and nose. She was, Jasper realized, the most normal-looking woman he had seen in months, the sort of girl you’d see strolling through the mall, or grabbing their mail in the apartment down the hall. He immediately felt comfortable with her.
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After a long moment, she shrugged her shoulders, waving her hand at the empty seats. “Why not? Be my guest.”
They sat down opposite her, digging in with relish to the hot beef stew. It was much better than the dry potatoes of the other day, and it was until he had scraped the last of his bowl clean, that he looked over at the woman again. Is she Djinn? She doesn’t exactly look it, although, he had to admit, neither did I until I got the red skin. She must be, though, or how else would she get here?
The woman ignored them while they ate, continuing whatever she was doing with the map, although Jasper could swear he had caught her surreptitiously peeking from time to time. He leaned back in his chair, listening to the music, tapping his foot to the beat.
“Could you quit that?”
Surprised, he turned to see the woman looking at him. Despite the frown on her lips, she didn’t look particularly annoyed. “Eh, sorry about that.” The ice broken, he leaned forward. “Do you mind if I ask what you're working on?”
She sighed, then pushed the map towards him. “I’m charting out some ruins I’d like to visit, if the goddamn snow ever stops, that is.”
Jasper glanced around the room, double-checking that there was no one else there. "By yourself? Is your crew in their rooms."
She shook her head. "Don't have a crew right now, but no, I'm not planning to go by myself. Once the snow stops, I'll probably head to Ya'ura and see if I can't find a crew."
Jasper hid a frown; something about the girl, despite her pleasant smile seemed a bit off to him. Djinn rarely traveled outside the mountains, so why was she here, alone?
“Have you been here long?” Ihra asked, perhaps eager to keep the conversation flowing.
The lady shrugged. “I got here just before the first snow, so a couple of days, I guess. From what the captain said, though, it sounds like we’re going to be stuck here for a few more days.” A lock of hair fell across her eyes, and with a quick breath of air, she pushed it away. A lopsided grin spread across her face. “Sorry, mother always said I should act more ladylike.”
Jasper laughed. “You look perfectly ladylike to me.” He sensed Ihra’s scowl from the corner of his eyes and hastily moved on. “Anyway, I’m Jasper and this is Ihra. We just got here, obviously.”
The woman nodded. “I know. It’s big news around here when someone shows up at the gates that isn’t scheduled. We’re the only travelers here right now.” The rebellious lock of hair fell back in her eyes, and she brushed it away. “You can call me-” she hesitated for a fraction of a second “-Sellâ. Musellâ, really, but no one calls me that.”
She locked eyes with Jasper, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “So I told you why I’m here; it’s only fair for you to do the same.”
Jasper shifted uncomfortably. He couldn’t exactly talk about his secret mission from Kas̆dael, and he could only help no one would question him too closely about his connections in Harei Miqlat, seeing as how he didn’t actually know hardly anything about them. He reached for a half-truth instead, awkwardly fumbling with his words. “Hoping to, uh, find an old acquaintance, uh, a Sir Jakaryus. Not sure where he is these days, though.”
Sellâ winked at him. “Sure you are.” She leaned forward. “You should probably work on your story; you are trapped here for a few days with all these guards, after all.” She slipped the map into his hands. “Keep the map for the night and study it. You can return it to me tomorrow.” With that, she got up from the table and sashayed her way out of the room. Jasper only stared for a second at her shapely rear before hastily looking away.
Curious, he examined the map. The Harei Miqlat was a giant valley encircled on all sides by the highest mountains in the empire. A large lake lay in the middle, on whose shores the capital city, S̆addānu, rested, and dozens of settlements were carved deep into the mountains. Sheltered away from the depredations of war that had ravaged the empire time and again, the Harei Miqlat was much more densely populated than most of the Empire, although most of the central plains lay untouched, the inhabitants preferring to settle in the mountains.
She had indeed marked ten or so ruins onto the map, and her notes detailed what she expected to find.
Ruins of a temple to Selene
* Once belonged to a community of the Moon-kissed who were almost entirely wiped out in a plague. As far as I can tell, the underground vault was never retrieved.
Ruins of Aṣîili
* Small village deep in the mountains that was destroyed by an unspecified monster; never re-inhabited. The village was destroyed at the height of the Atru period, so any surviving pottery would be highly valuable.
His breath caught as he reached the third.
Ruins of a temple to Nahrēmah, in the highlands outside Tawwertu. Supposedly destroyed in a fire a few decades and never rebuilt. Suspected foul-play.
His thoughts raced as he examined the entry. A temple to Nahrēmah, destroyed a few decades ago? The timeline added up. He carefully wrote it down in his own notebook. Kas̆dael had sent him to the temple in the capital, but perhaps he could swing past this on his way.
He read through the rest of the entries, none of them as exciting as the third. Sella was obviously some sort of treasure hunter, or at least, that was how she chose to present herself. He frowned as he examined the map, memorizing the names of the cities and settlements as best as he could, hoping to hide his total ignorance of the region from the guards. She had been a little too eager to help, he thought. Why would a treasure hunter give him her notes? She seemed friendly enough, but he resolved to keep a wary eye on her, just in case.
With a sigh, he folded the map back up, suddenly very tired. His short time in Corsythia had left him feeling a bit jaded. Sure, there were bad people on earth too, but for the most part - for the average person, anyways - the worst you'd really expect is to be back-stabbed by a friend, cheated on by a partner, hurt by a jealous spouse. You didn't have to worry that the friendly person you met at the pub might just want to sacrifice you and consume your soul.
"You all right?" Ihra nudged him out of his thoughts, and he nodded slowly, suddenly realizing that the music in the tavern had fallen silent and most of the guards had long since returned to their barracks. The flames still burned low in the amber pit, but the tavern had become all but deserted while he examined the map.
She eyed him skeptically. “Really?" He didn't respond further, and she chose not to press. "Well, I'm headed up; you should really get some sleep yourself.” Reluctantly, he followed her, his dreams that night filled with images of treasure and cultists.