Open Chronicles Four Funerals and a Ball

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Noelani

Vizier of the Moon
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Character Biography
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The Emperors Palace had been a hubbub of activity since the armies return from the Forbidden City. The dead had been wept for, mourned and laid to rest but now, now it was time to celebrate the living. Gerra had defeated a dragon so great that it had cast a shadow over half the world and his people were proud and beyond grateful for his protection.

For many it had merely confirmed in their minds he was, indeed, a God.

The Palace ballroom had been scrubbed clean and the servants had far outdone themselves. From the lavish drapes to the spread of food, no amount of time, effort or cost had been spared. Noelani stood leaning against the balcony which overlooked the steadily filling room with a mix of wonderment and curiosity. They had parties back on her isles of course but nothing this large nor so... ornate. Her people built fires all along the shores of the beach and danced into the early hours. She had been to plenty of these events in other kingdoms; it was even the standard welcoming thrown by most people when they discovered it was a Princess that was going to be the one doing trade talks. But none of those compared to this.

Once she was done admiring, Lani began to make her way down the steps to join in the festivities. The blue and gold silk of her dress swirled about her legs as she walked. Her hair had been decorated with golden beads, braided, and styled into an intricate up do that exposed the slim curve of her neck and bare shoulders. About her throat hung the delicate necklace made up of deep sapphires that held within them the ancient waters of her homeland springs. When she reached the bottom of the step a servant greeted her with a silver tray on which sat a series of different drinks. Lani selected one and then moved on into the crowd.
 
This is awful.

Uvogin found an unoccupied corner in the ballroom, somewhere he could finally lean back and relax, and scanned the ever-growing crowd. The color of his tunic matched his eyes and cut off just above his knees; subtle gold trim decorated the otherwise simple garment. The sleeves tightly hugged his biceps. A gold band shimmered above his left elbow and a pair of gold cuffs clung to the single braid of hair that hung by the side of his face. The Captian cleaned up well, but despite a polished appearance, he could not remedy the heavy, dark circles under his eyes. Preparing for this kind of event was always exhausting, and he would see that absolutely no disturbances would arise.

Even if one were to, it would be dealt with swiftly.

Uvogin wiped his eyes, groaned, and pushed off the wall. Sleep was entirely preferred to this, but if he had to suffer it, he would at least do so with a drink in hand. The Immortal strode across the ballroom, making every attempt to reach his destination unnoticed.
 
Nym had opened and closed her door several times before deciding to leave her chambers, she'd lost count of how many times she'd paced back and forth, fighting with herself over something as ridiculous as a formal occasion. A Princess perhaps but not one used to such things, not one used to crowds that she wasn't navigating under a hood and sticking to shadows. She'd never been in the public eye at all, she'd watched her family attend such events growing up, she'd watched how her mother had exchanged formalities but she'd never actually had to do it herself.

Her lips had been stained a deep red, her eyes darkened with charcoal and her hair fell in soft, dark curls, a few scattered locks of it painted in gold and decorated with jewels and fine chains to match her outfit. Gold pauldrons adorned her shoulders, linked by many more gold chains that draped in cascade down her bare back all the way to the tiny dimples at the bottom. The front of her dress was much more simple, emerald lace and silk that split to proudly show off the serpent tattoo on her thigh when she moved.

"Fuck it." was the last she said as she left her chambers, her bare feet making not a sound on the marbled floors as she crept through the palace toward the growing sound of music and the babble of voices. Her mouth was dry and her stomach churned over a nervous wave of nausea..

This is awful..

She hesitated in the doorway, clenching and unclenching fists by her sides and tapping her bare toes on the floor, her shoulders rolling as though she were getting ready for a fight. She wished she was getting ready for a fight.. "Fuck it.." she breathed out again, glancing at a couple who stared awkwardly at her and she gawked back at them in mimicry "What?.." .. The shook their heads and the man guided the woman into the ballroom without a word.

Finally she drew in a lungful of air and wandered in, still chewing on her lip and wringing her fingers together anxiously as her emerald eyes scanned the room below. She was entirely out of her depth.. "Get it together Soleiman.." she murmured to herself as she wandered down the steps, taking one of the offered drinks and downing it before replacing the empty glass and taking another with a sheepish smile to the servant who blinked at her.

Relief washed over her to see her friend nearby and she joined Lani's side with a gentle hand on her back as she looked the woman over.. "You look beautiful." she smirked at her before looking across the room again.. "As always.."

Surprise caused her brow to quirk as her gaze fell on the Captain striding across the room, looking as brooding as ever. Her lips curled in amusement.. "He couldn't look any more tortured if he tried.." she chuckled.. Like she was doing much better...
 
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This was a good idea.

Though parties were not quite the Prince's purview, he'd helped oversee the preparations to ensure it was everything it needed to be. Recent losses and harrowing events had set the people of Amol Kalit on edge. Pain, anguish, and grief were heavy burdens to bear, and they were laid across the lands like an invisible fog. This evening would be a fresh wind to help clear it out, bring back a spirit of lightness and hope that the Empire so desperately needed.

Mago was dressed in robes of deep orchid accented by golden threads. The long tresses of earthen dreds pulled back, the crown of his station resting at his brow. He arrived among his family retinue; his brother and his wife walking on his left, she carrying Mago's youngest son, and his older son walking at his right. Many of Annuakat's Princes were in attendance tonight, hoping to dispell the gloom and perhaps make some new friends with attending dignitaries.

He was beset upon by friends not long after their arrival, exchanging pleasantries with smiles and faces he felt he'd not seen in quite some time. His business on the Divan kept him away from most social settings (or so he liked to claim) but in all actuality the Prince was never much a fan of big gatherings like this.

Mago would much prefer the company of the quiet hillsides, riding his horse along the country trails of his estate. For the good of the people, however, he felt obliged to attend.

"Mago, aren't they the Princesses?" his sister-in-law leaned to whisper, indicating Noelani and Nymeasha just a short ways to their left.

"Indeed it is," the man replied, heavy brows lofting, "would you like an introduction?"

"Do you have to ask?" she smiled, adjusting the babe in her arms.

Mago had only met the Princesses briefly in passing, welcoming them both to Annuakat before business stole him away. Admittedly he'd felt poorly about those first impressions, and thought perhaps this was a prime opportunity to make up for it. Adjusting his expression to favor warmth, he nodded and lead his sister over toward the ladies.

"Princesses Noelani and Nymaesha," the man's deep voice rumbled to them as they approached, "allow me to introduce my sister-in-law Navithi," Navithi bowed her head best she could with the baby in her arms, "my youngest son Athiram," he indicated the year-old who burbled brightly at the shiny adornments of Noelani's ensemble, "and my heir Malkahn ... who seems to have wandered off."

Mago glanced about for Mal, finding him nowhere within sight, and offered an apologetic shrug, "he is not a bashful man, I am certain he will introduce himself at some point."
 
-I will introduce my foot to your ass you little...

-I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry, apologized Maheau.

Standing angrily in front of her, Teherat, one of the most important royal main cook of the royal main kitchen, was looking at her as if he didn't know yet if he will grilled or boiled her left ear. She had split his famous apricot and mint (yerk! noble people...) sauce all over the floor and even if it was the first time she dropped something she had never been a good kitchen hand, and they both knew it. She stole food everytime she had the opportunity to and she was convinced that she knew how to cook better than him and said it out loud.

The only reason he didn't throw her out yet was that bloody ball they decided to organize two weaks ago to celebrate the victory of the armies. But those prince and princess, have they tought who was among those armies? Boys with HUGE stomachs! And who was among those boys to feed them? his kitchen hands! And he was suppose to cook meal for the great Prince and Princess of Annuakat? Teherat didn't want to fall in disgrace, and in order to be able to cook properly, he decided to pretend that the girls who were presenting theirselves at the doors of the royal kitchen disguised in boys were indeed boys. Usually, he didn't want something which bleed once a month touching his elaborate preparations, but the ball was coming fast and he had a reputation to protect.

Two months ago, Maheau was recovering in an abandonned barn near Alliria. She had spent dreadful weeks disguised as a boy in the kingdom of Daldaria to earn some money in order to become a hero, and it had been a painful failure, like it is most of the time when the dreams of the commoners meet the reality of the nobles. She didn't speak well enough and fight well enough to furfil her Destiny in Daldaria. But once she hit Alliria, she heard that Annuakat was a less violent land. So she traveled for weeks with nomads who nearly decided to adopt this poor lost child that she was. But she declined the offer while seeing the Palace. She already had a commoner mother, and already had fleed her. She didn't need a second commoner mother, even with a caravan. What she wanted was to matter! To become a noble! A knight! Not an other peasant who blend in! If some lady wanted to adopt her, Maheau decide that she had to be AT LEAST a duchess.

-More wine in the ballroom! Yelled a voice in the kitchen.

That was the right moment to flee away from Teherat the stormy.

-Can we talk about this later? They need wine, you know. I don't want to let them down... That's my mission..That's an honor you know...

-MAHEAU COME BACK HERE!

She caught a bottle (who could have been vinegar, it didn't matter to her- she couldn't read after all) and rush into the ballroom, knowing that Teherat will never followed her there. Maheau could understand why he always avoid the ballroom: it was the biggest place she had ever seen, full of people who had a right of live and death among people like her. But she loved the jewels and the power who emaned from those folks. She would have loved to parade in a silky red dress, talking about her people, her duties, how heavy a crown is and those kind of stuff.

While she was escaping the kitchen she- the fake boy who escaped a farm- almost hit a rich young man. Ooops! She became red. A prince maybe? She observed him for a few seconds while he was wandering where to go. He looked so tired and about to cry that she almost took pity on him. He was all she always had dreamed to be, but maybe it wasn't easy everyday neither to be the heir of something else than a commoner mother.
 
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A party was perhaps the last thing that she had wanted to deal with in her current mindset, but maintaining appearances was something that Medja valued quite highly. Perhaps if she could deceive others into believing she wasn't still reeling in the aftermath of Drakormir's rise and subsequent fall she could trick herself into thinking she was okay, too. That was what she told herself as she finished her second glass of wine and forced herself into the ballroom.

The Vizier of Stars fought to maintain her usual air of sophistication and grace, assisted by the ensemble she had chosen for the evening: an elegant, black, halter gown that dipped down below her bellybutton and exposed the small of her back. The dress draped onto the floor behind her and bore a slit which traveled all the way to her waist; as the fabric drifted below her waist it subtly shifted from black to a sparkling gold, and she wore long gloves which matched the dress. Strappy, heeled sandals adorned her feet, and the usual assortment of golden baubles with which she could levitate herself marked her upper arms.

In particular, a thick, golden necklace fell between her cleavage to cover the scar on her chest. Medja had been lost between her usual showiness and the self-consciousness that had been brought on by her recent injury. She felt like she might draw undue attention by wearing something more modest than what most had likely come to expect from her, but she wasn't particularly fond of making her chest-wound a consistent talking point throughout the evening.

For now, the only thing that concerned Medja was obtaining a fresh glass of wine. Greetings could wait until then...
 
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The emperor descended from the balcony to stand beside Noelani. Taller than any here, he wore no crown, though rubies glinted in his ears and rings glittered upon his fingers. His attire was simple, yet elegant: a black thawb with gold scrollwork running along the hems, black trousers, and black slippers. Smoothly, he bent low, taking the woman's hand in his own.

"My moon," he intoned, voice deep and rich and smooth. His eyes simmering. He kissed her hand before releasing it, then turned to regard the others nearby.

"Princess Nymeasha, you look beautiful this evening. Prince Mago, it has been too long. Your family looks well."
 
I arrived like the fool I was. My reptilian eyes scanned the room filled with the kinds of creatures that came to these things. I had polished my steel bracers and shin guards to mirror shine. I had scrubbed the blood stains from my pale leathers in a vain attempt to apear as if I belonged in this company as more than an oddity to be ogled and whispered about in sitting rooms. My hands clenched nervously for hilt and haft that were not there.

The lights from sconces and chandeliers bathed the gathered in light and shadow as if a metaphor to be pondered by greater minds. Scents of foods and perfumes mingled in my snout to create a confused miasma of sensations that forced me to stop at the doorway and try to sort through it all. I had faced beast and men. I had bled on sands that could not be quenced by less than thousands. I had been broken and battered and torn. Yet these people with their silks and smiles scared me far more.
 
"As do you, kaikana," Lani's voice was as soft and warm as a summers sun and her smile almost as bright as she turned towards her friend and lightly brushed her hand across the girls cheek. Nym was growing so fast it seemed as though Lani merely blinked and missed some great milestone. Like, apparently, when her relationship with the guard captain had turned into a girlish crush into something more passionate. Her eyes flickered from her to the Captain who had carved her little finger off and her smile faltered just a little bit.

Time, it would take time, for Lani to forgive that.

She looped her arm through her sisters and banished the thought from her mind entirely.

"It seems you share the Captain's feelings for these things, though," her friend had been raised in the shadows not the light, being in such a crowded room clearly made her tense. She had been about to suggest that Nym try one dance and then Lani would help her come up with some excuse to leave, when they were approached by a familiar figure. Having only been in the Empire proper for a few months it had been a rush of different faces and names and it took a few moments for her to place this one.

"Prince Mago," Lani curtsied in a flourish of silk, the light twinkling off the sapphires about her throat. "A pleasure to see you and meet your beautiful family," her smile creased her eyes and, spotting the young babes attention, conjured a small bubble of water above the boys head to batter like a soft ball. She was about to say something further when another joined their little group. It was hard not to feel the presence of the Emperor approaching. People parted like the waves before him and his eyes didn't leave their little group as he strode forward with single-minded focus.

When he engulfed her hand and uttered his greeting she tried hard not to let the teasing smirk to show. Whilst she might have kept it from her lips, the playfulness in her eyes was harder to mask.

"My liege," she dipped briefly in a curtsy before he released her hand. She clapped them together and glanced around the group gathered just as the music began to strike up and people grabbed partners. "So, who is going to dance with me first?"
 
When she entered the room, she couldn't quite keep the childlike wonder from her face. Kailyn still wasn't used to being on this side of things. Amber eyes searched the crowds of beautiful people, searching for the one that would be easy to spot. But first her gaze fell on Noelani and Nymeasha.

Princess Numphffff.

Kailyn waved and smiled. She'd been setting up safe trade-routes along the western deserts. Working in shipments from the deltas. She'd been far away from court for some time. And as her eyes fell upon Gerra 's she felt her resolve begin to splinter...to crack.

As if she was closer than she was, she felt like she could almost taste and feel the heat that his form always radiated. But there was something different in his eyes. There was more pain there. More than even he could hide from her.

And Vo.

Fingers curled into small fists at her side and she took a step forward, then nearly stumbled into the ground as she collided with Raz El'Sadaaweh . Balance tilted and she reached out for something...anything to keep herself from hitting that soon-to-be dance floor.

And to think she hadn't even had a glass of wine yet.
 
I felt a small brief pressure like being hit by a small branch in a wind storm. Instinct shouted at me that it was a poor assassin searching for a place to sheath thier dagger. I turned quickly, instinct guiding muscles with practiced speed. My large scaled hand clapped around something small that felt unusually fragile.

How it could be an arm I had no idea. But there it was, an arm attached to a little human woman. Suprise caused his head crest to rise slightly and his nostrils to flare on his snout as his mind tried to identify the source of the feeling.

He held her there a moment, muscles frozen in a way common to his kind when hunting, a complete halting of motion of any kind. His large orange eyes flicked over her face for a heartbeat before he decided she was pretty in the way a flower garden was. Filled with vibrance and beauty but ultimately the realm of kinder hands.

Kailyn
 
Maheau looked the sad young Prince who has fleed from the ball. She hesitated to follow him. The other girls spent their nights and days whispering tales about Prince who fall in love with housemaids, kitchen hands, even slaves. Maybe she could give it a try? A romance with a Prince could considerably accelerate her hero career.

No?

Well no. SHe was too ugly for this. Even as a girl she wasn't a turn-header with her yellowish eyes and her potato face, but as a boy she was really hiduous...Seductiont wasn't the good way to become the legendary hero she wanted to be. Moreover he others laquaid had warned her: even if it was a time of celebration, a inapropriate behaviour with a master could cost her a hand and even some years of freedom. She couldn't play those courtisane games, it didn't work in real life.

She reached Latse, who was standing next to a table which was supposed to present the wine. It was almost empty.

-Maheau, Medja seems thirsty, hurry with the wine. I mean it. You're going to get me into trouble.

-I'm doing as fast as I can, lied Maheau while rolling her eyes.

Since she knew him, Latse always seemed frightened by someone in the Palace. He told stories about other domestics who had been whiped or terribly injuried to have fallen to ascomplish her masters wishes. Medja was the one who terrified him the most. He said she was a snake disguised as a woman. Nonsense. Maheau slownly began to pour the wine into rich and heavy cristal glass.

-What is this abomination? Suddenly gasped the young girl staring at a point next to elegant dancers.

-What abomination are you talking about? Serve the bloody wine before he gets warm! And don't break that bottle or I swear to Maskat I will kill you with my own hands.

-I won't serve anything before someone get rid of the fat devil lizard in the middle of the room! What is that?

- The fa...Are you serious, you dumb peasant? That's a draconian. A mighty warrior. You don't know anything about this part of the world!? I tought you have travelled! Across the seas! Across the deserts! With nomads! I've never mooved from the Palace, how is it possible that I know much things than you do?

-Calm down eternal valet, I'm not from some sandy odd continent like yours, we don't have big fat lizard in Epressa.

While she was speacking, a young lady almost fell on the disgusting lizard-man. He rescued her. Yerk!! Between him and the floor, Maheau would clearly had chosen the floor.

-I want you to speak lower! ordonned Latse. I don't want the draconian to know you're insulting him in the middle of the royal ball! I won't die because of your ignorance!

-He's occupied. Who's the dimsel in distress? A courtesan? A witch? I can't tell, she's very strange.

Latse took the tray full of glass of wine he had prepared while educating her friend, gave it to Maheau and push her across the room toward Medja .

-She's a girl like you but at the difference she has managed to use her brain. You could learn a lot by observing her.

But Maheau wasn't concentrate on Kailyn anymore. She was walking toward the emperor. Realising she was just near the most important person of Amol-Kalit she felt weak. She could have faint. Her heat was beating so fast she asked Iasimu to send her some strenght to not make any mistake.

I'm a regular valet. I'm bringing wine. Everything is normal. I'm not an envious farmer girl from an other continent. I'm a regular valet.

You have the jacket, you have the posture, everything is fine. They're going to concentrate on the lizard-man and the courtesan-witch and they're going to pick the wine without even noticing you.
 
Yes. Gods, yes.

The first glass of wine was downed in a single breath. He set it back on the tray with a light clink and wasted no time in scooping up a second. Uvogin turned and scanned the crowd again.

It was impossible to miss Gerra, and as he watched his friend from a distance he could see those around him. Noelani, whom he’d only heard about, and Nymeasha, who he admired from across the ballroom. Though gorgeous on any occasion, she was especially breathtaking tonight.

He wondered if Kailyn was around, and as his head swiveled to maybe spot his old friend, he instead found the floating Vizier.

Medja,” he addressed her, too tired to even bother with anything other than a half-nod towards her, “long time no see.”

Medja
 
While she was at least pleased that someone had bothered to deliver her wine without having to go bothering anyone about it, the Vizier of Stars did find it somewhat strange that what seemed to be a peasant girl -- and not even a local one, at that -- was the one who had done the deed. Odd, but perhaps not warranting any further investigation. Just one more distasteful act on Gerra's part, having child labor at a formal ball instead of qualified, competent attendants.

Medja, long time no see.”

A greeting that would've been met with mild irritation or worse had it come from nearly anyone else met her ears. Thankfully, it was the similarly disinterested Uvogin, who also seemed to be dipping into the alcohol a bit early this evening.

"Ah...hello, Captain." She turned idly to partially face him, arms folded neatly across the décolleté of her dress and wine glass in hand. She cocked a brow as she quickly scanned him up and down, examining his choice in attire. "I must say I hadn't expected to see you in formal wear. You clean up nicely."

That said, the wear of exhaustion on the poor man was unmistakable. The bags beneath his eyes spoke volumes to that. A ball such as this hardly seemed like the straight-edged man's preferred use of a night off, but he clearly wasn't here to provide security duty.
"Who suckered you into coming to this little farce, I wonder?" She chided him, trying and failing miserably to emulate her usual playful demeanor. More than a cursory glance would reveal that Medja herself was nearly as weary as he was behind her makeup.
 
Noelani's presence served to ease her somewhat, the word that she used for her, a word meaning sister that she had always craved to hear every time she was gone too long. She had been her only happiness in this world, the only joy she'd been granted, and Nym adored her. Her mention of the Captain caused Nym's brow to quirk and her full lips to twist as she suppressed a grin, knowing well what Lani's feelings on the man had been the last they spoke of him. Since then Nym hadn't much cared what anyone thought on the matter, a point that Lani was obviously aware of. Despite their tumultuous beginnings, she had quickly formed a liking toward him, and nobody, not even Lani would tell her otherwise.

"Seems so.." she answered with a soft sigh. "Formalities give me nausea and curtsying feels ridiculous." she muttered as she watched as people started moving to the middle of the room. Her lips pressed together and she suppressed a quiet groan.. "Give me an arena any day over this shi--".. Prince Mago's voice rumbled behind her and she quickly silenced as she turned to regard him and his family, reminding her resting bitch face to smile..

Nym dipped her chin respectfully rather than curtsy, Lani was a natural at these things and she'd look shambolic next to her if she bothered to try.. "Prince Mago..Good to see you again, and a pleasure to meet you." she looked to the woman on his arm with a warm smile. She looked to the child who was happily babbling, her throat clearing quietly before she offered the babe an awkward "Hello."..

Enter the towering block of chiselled granite to make her feel even more comfortable, her smile seemed to fade in an instant but she caught herself and forced it back, her jaw clenching slightly at the greeting he offered her friend. She glanced between the two for a moment with a brief frown, and dipped her chin in response to his compliment .. "Good evening, Gerra.." he'd never been offered any sort of title or formal address from her, why start now? "You look simply gorgeous yourself." she commented, her voice withholding the amusement that sparkled in her eyes as she said it.

She deposited her empty glass on a passing tray and took another, pressing it immediately to her lips. The commotion of the stumbling woman caught Nym's attention and she instantly grinned, leaning close to Lani to murmur by her ear.. "Looks like our friend has had a sip of wine.." she chuckled, but her tone was warm and not mocking as it once had been. The young woman was too adorable for words. She eyed the strange draconian who took grip of her arm, and her gaze narrowed.

Noelani's question called her attention back and she blinked. To dance, or to hand her friend over to Gerra, she wasn’t sure which was worse. “Prince Mago, perhaps?..” she smiled between the small crowd, a glint of mischief in her emerald gaze. “You must excuse me.. Enjoy your evening!..” she added a little over enthusiastically and stepped away.

She drank as she walked, and more wine was required. She made her way to the odd boy with another tray of wine and looked him over in scrutiny for a moment before offering a small smile in thanks as she deposited an empty glass and took another.. She was losing count already, and still didn't feel any more relaxed.

"Med-ja...." she fanned her face in playful compliment as she approached, her smile warming as she leaned to press a polite kiss to the woman's cheek. "You look stunning.." she observed with a quiet sigh before turning to offer a light smirk at Uvogin. He always looked handsome, regardless of what he did or didn't wear, clean or covered in sweat and dirt, but in formal wear she visibly swooned and cleared her throat to unstick her words..

"Formal suits you, Captain.." she dipped her chin, her eyes lingering a little longer than necessary and her grin so wide her cheeks dimpled.
 
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The crowd had grown large. The Empire was indeed something great, and the numbers of those with noble blood present here tonight would be hard pressed to match in any other court, or so it would seem. So many had come together, so many had been joined, and here in this lavish hall did they all gather in festivity and grief. Yes, this was an occasion of great joy, for Gerra had defeated the demon of the Forbidden City, an act which had served to further unify the people of Amol-Kalit under his rule. There was safety under the umbrella of one who could fell such things, under the umbrella of a god.

And that safety was not to be misused, or taken for granted. Even the lowest caste of the Empire knew this for the most part. It was not something given freely - it was to be respected and returned. Adnan knew this, so as he conducted himself throughout the evening he did so in a most dignified way. He was proud of his station here in this ballroom tonight - even if it was only that of a servant, his duty was primarily to those of the highest stations, and one such individual was his priority at this moment.

He burst from the kitchen with determination in his stride, and care in his grasp. In his hand he held a single glass, filled with a particularly dark spirit, and his destination was across the floor, out onto one of the many balconies lining the hall. He navigated through the crowd, nodding respectfully to any and all who regarded him either pleasantly or otherwise, and ignored any request that was asked of him for now. Breaking through the other side, he ascended the few steps out onto the balcony.

Sitting there at a table he found his destination, and he brought the glass there.

Ashuanar sat, quietly, his chair pulled some from the table, his right ankle resting on his other knee, and his left hand resting passively atop the table with the other in his lap. His eyes looked from the balcony out over the city. Dotting the entire landscape were glimmering lights in the streets and in windows. From here, especially at this time of night before most had gone to bed, did this city hold much beauty. And despite the attraction of what was a quiet murmur of music and conversation within, he was content to sit here a while and admire the view. He was dressed relatively plainly, his white robes tucked tightly against him, augmented with a few modest jewels and rings and of course, the Band of Serqet, which was peeking out from beneath his sleeve. His head was uncovered, and his hair tied nicely back behind his head and from his face.

His gaze shifted from the lights below to Adnan who had returned with respectable haste.

"Thank you," he said, his hand reaching up to receive his drink from the servant, and then he nodded for him to depart without further request, which Adnan did with a respectful bow.

Ashuanar drank, and his eyes looked back out over the city. Though he was here in body, his mind had not yet settled. Instead, it dwelt elsewhere, and even there it was torn in different directions. Unlike many of the others, he was not accustomed to setting aside his troubles for saving face, and tonight, there was much trouble that dwelt in his thought.
 
A polite nod of his head was given to each greeting from the Princesses, an amiable expression accompanying the pleasantries.

"You're both quite lovelier in person than the rumors say," Navithi offered, "it's so wonderful to meet you both finally. Getting details about the Divan out of this one is like pulling teeth."

Mago's smile persisted, eyes turning up for the rare figure who stood taller than he as the God-Emperor approached. The Prince bowed, "My Liege," the man echoed the words of Noelani, vibrant gaze drawing to the magical bubble of water she conjured for his son, who burbled and giggled while he pawed at it. What a wonder; magic.

"We are all well indeed, thanks to you," a return to Gerra for the half-giants most admirable actions during the cataclysmic events at Elbion, "our days are once more graced with peace."

"So, who is going to dance with me first?"

“Prince Mago, perhaps?..”

He raised his brows, blinking as he felt an elbow jab him in the side from Navithi who presumed to maintain a casual, awe-struck regard of the God-Emperor. A dark hand smoothed over the front of his tunic, orchid-hued gaze shifting back to Noelani, "I would be delighted, Princess, but I defer to the Lady's choice."
 
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Off from the main hall within an attached hookah lounge, an uproar of laughter briefly interrupted dwindling notes of music. A crowd consisting of harem-wives, nobles, merchants, and even a smattering of off-duty guards could be found reveling in the evening celebration in and around a conversation pit majlis.

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Among the sun-kissed faces was one of ash and obsidian, the dark shadowed skin interjected by mirth-filled crimson. Fieravene, dressed (shockingly) in all black, lounged between two of Gerra's harem-wives, looking well pleased with her current state of being; arms stretched up along the top cushion, a glass of wine in one hand, a hookah pipe in another, and two lovely women intermittently feeding her passed hors d'oeuvres. She was nothing if not the picturesque figure of the cat who'd eaten the canary and then been given a bowl of cream.

The topic of the crocodile hunt had long been on the lips of those who had attended and witnessed the horrifying events. Understandably, very little had been said about Gerra's ... lapse of livelihood, and there was a good deal of effort being made to find out just what had actually happened.

"I heard the beast was so big it swallowed the Emperor whole!" said a noblewoman.

"Where in the seven sands did you hear that?" a man scowled, one Fiera recognized as having been on their very riverboat, "It wasn't that big. Just as long as he is tall." A vast understatement, Fiera thought as she pulled from the hookah pipe, it absolutely could have swallowed Gerra whole. "I saw it myself," he insisted.

"Baaaah, you don't know what you're talkin about, I was on the shore when it washed up. That thing was a monster," another man, "never seen one that big. It tore the Emperor's boat in half."

"Well that's a pot of piss," said the harem wife to Fi's left, "the only one here worth hearing from is sitting right here. Tell us how it really happened, Lady Fi. I heard you exploded its head off with ten arrows."

"Oof, that-" Fiera waggled a finger at her, "someone's been singing you the crow's song. I'll tell you what really happened," she went to take another gulp of wine only to find her glass empty, "but I'm going to need a refill first."
 
Uvogin nonchalantly raised his glass up at Medja in silent thanks, and lowered it with a sigh. “Stunning as always, yourself.” Even exchanging pleasantries was tiring. Perhaps it was a stroke of good fortune that the Vizier seemed to be exhausted herself. He would not have been able to keep up with her normal games.

“Security does not organize itself. I’m simply seeing things through. For the time being.”

When Nymeasha approached, far more energetic than both Uvogin and Medja, the Captain breathed a small sigh. He watched the women’s brief exchange over the rim of his glass as he sipped.

“And you, my little Viper.” He flashed her a weary smile and bent down to land a kiss on her brow. “Enjoying yourself?”
 
The emperor raised an eyebrow as first Nymeasha pronounced that Mago and Noelani should dance before making an exit and then Mago conceded to whatever Noelani chose. Gerra uttered a soft snort.

"I am no dancer," rumbled the eight foot half-giant.

The logistics of such a dance would be absurd.

"Prince Mago, Princess Noelani," he smiled, holding her gaze just long enough to mean something other than a parting pleasantry, then departed across the tiled floor.

The sound of tittering and music came from within the hookah lounge. Gerra entered, lips twitching at the sight of Fieravene holding court amid the harem. He stood at the entrance just long enough to hear the tale end of the conversation.

"It was one arrow," he said, causing the room to turn and look at him "through the eye."
 
The Vizier accepted Nym and Uvogin's compliments with a silent smile, the former's kiss on the cheek catching her off guard, but not unwelcome.
"You're quite the sight yourself, darling. Quite the elegant ensemble, I must say...the pauldrons are a nice touch." She replied in a playful yet listless tone, brushing a stray lock of hair from the girl's face.

“Security does not organize itself. I’m simply seeing things through. For the time being.”

"I have no doubt you'll be more than capable of handling anything that comes our way, military getup or no, good Captain." Medja stated flatly with a tired smile. Uvogin's own kiss upon Nym's forehead was surprisingly awkward. The sorceress hadn't considered much that the pair were apparently dating now, and wasn't quite aware of how...open they were given that she had slept with Uvogin and rounded a few bases with Nym. Thankfully, a familiar voice emanating from a nearby room gave her an excuse to make a timely exit and avoid any further discomfort.

"If the two of you will excuse me, I have a lovely dark elf to see about a horse." She announced before snatching up an additional glass of wine from a nearby servant and fleeing to the smoke billowing out of the nearby lounge.

In spite of the awestruck silence caused by the Emperor's own dramatic entrance just prior and her personal, bristling irritation with the man, Medja brushed right past him and into the lounge proper. Unceremoniously, the Vizier handed Fieravene a fresh glass of wine, planted a kiss on her lips, then glided gracefully into her lap.

"Yes, please, Fiera," She quipped with a simpering glance at Gerra, pausing to take a long drink deeply from her own glass. "I think we all want to hear how you saved the Emperor's skin from the terrible beast."
 
These lands were much, much different from her own. Where she had grown so accustomed to the beauty of bark and leaf, this place embodied a far more curious allure. The days were hot, and bright, and the evenings near frigid and almost frightening. And all around, and endless sea of rolling sand. It was marvelous, and unnerving. Were it not for the aid of benevolent guides, distant cousins, she would likely have been lost to these vast lands.

They called themselves Abtati. They were elves who had dwelt here in Amol-Kalit for many an age. This was quite clear to her given just how well they knew the land, and how different their speech was. While they could speak common very well, their own tongue was foreign to her. So few of the Aeraesarian people had ever ventured this far west, any recollection of it within the collective was... distant. That only fed her interest in seeing more of this place, and to bear witness to the grand cities she had only heard tell of. And these stories were shared with her again as they traveled, and with reverence they spoke of their leadership.

The Abtati spoke of their emperor's rise to power, and the Empire that had been forged through the trial of his coming. They shared with her also the tale of this emperor's accomplishment over the White Dragon of Elbion. But in truth, this had already reached the ears of the Order, wherein the collective, word spread like wildfire. That is why she had come. As a High Councilor of the Sharyrdian Order, she represented her people, and she felt it appropriate to address such an act.


In due time, her wish to see the truths behind the stories had come true. And it was indeed magnificent. She had never imagined what first appeared to be a barren land to be home to such grandeur, despite all she had been told along the way.

Her guides escorted her into the city, where she was taken to the authority of the gate guard. There, she was recognized as a dignitary, and provided escort through the city and to the palace. And apparently, her timing was impeccable. Even now as she was led into the palace, a party was taking place - a celebration for their heroic victory. And of course, as was the emperor's way, all were welcome. It served as the perfect opportunity for her to show face.

And so she did. Relieved of unneccesary effects, she was led into the Palace ballroom.
In comparison to many, if not all of those present, she was quite out of place. Her skin was fair, her eyes a light blue, and hair that was nearly white. She wore dress unlike those from here, and even foreign to those of Fal'Addas. And about her, there almost appeared to be a dim glow. To those who's eyes were more keen, there was.

And within, a great gathering had indeed taken place. There was music and drink and laughter. No amenity had been spared to her eye, and the wealth of this kingdom was on a blatant display. She entered in, and immediately drew the attention of several servants. One approached her, simply offering her a beverage, having little cause to do any else. And she took a glass from him, and began to make her way deeper into the mix, closer to the music.
 
Nym's expression paused for a brief second. Public displays of affection weren't something she was used to, and the last thing she'd expected from the Captain. Still, she felt herself lean into the tender kiss and her eyes closed briefly. Her warm, colour infused cheeks dimpled with the blossoming smile and her eyes shone in a way she reserved for him alone.

"Not particularly.." she admitted, her words riding a sigh, but she smiled softly never-the-less, her fingertips tapping idly on the sides of her glass. "But it's my first ball, so I should at least try to look like I'm enjoying myself, right?.." she shrugged, and the corner of her mouth tugged her lips into a brief smirk.

Nym captured her lower lip between her teeth as Medja excused herself and she gave the woman a polite nod, feeling her awkwardness.

“Did I interrupt something?..” she asked quietly as she lifted her wine to her lips to drain the last of it.. “I won’t be staying long, if you have business don’t let me keep you.” she offered a small smile and cast her eyes across the room again.
 
Hair highlighted by the unrelenting sun of Amol-kalit feathered across her startled face. She didn't hit the ground as a hand nearly cool to the touch wrapped nearly around her entire forearm. A large, scaly hand that could easily shred flesh if it wanted to.

"I'm sorry," she breathed.

Limbs felt like jelly and it didn't help that she was wearing clothing that was fancier than she'd been used to while traveling along the roads. She'd been so focused on Emperor Gerra that she'd been unaware of the others around her. So focused on talking to him. Seeing him again.

How foolish of her.

"I should've been more aware of my surroundings and how I was interrupting another's path." Other hand went up, fingers curling around the muscles and scale of his arm as she steadied herself. A part of her wondered if he would release her.

Amber eyes narrowed on him as she looked upward. His height nearly rivaled the emperor's. "You look familiar. Have we met before?"
 
I stared at her a moment. The way the long mane of fur on her head was kissed by the day star, and her amber eyes not so many shades removed from his looked up at me. I could have just dropped her. I probably should have. I had no way of knowing the etiquette of the pampered. Free or not, he still couldn't forget that he was not one of them and many wouldn't take kindly to his kind being here.

Perhaps it was that thought or some strange response to the sensory overload of this place, but as her small soft hand reached for my arm a chill ran through me. The warmth of her hand agaisnt my cool scales seemed to radiate up my armand flood my chest. It was ridiculous. It was alien and anathema to all he knew. She had to be a witch or wise woman. Nothing else explained the warmth her touch caused.

I waited until she had her feet beneath her and removed my hand. The memory of her arm in my grasp lingered against my skin like the taste of dinner wine clings to the tongue. I shook my head, my crest rising as if I need to cool down.

"No harm done, Miss." I said my voice gravelly from disuse, "I'm honored but I don't know any women of power."

I bowed deeply and moved to the side to let her pass. I watched the ground, so she wouldn't be insulted by more eye contact.

'You're a fool, El'Sadaaweh. You belong in a back room.'

Kailyn