Open Chronicles The Anirian Rose Masquerade

[Jiya Luana]

Vel Zrada, the Heart of Aniria​

Over two hundred years ago, two visionaries gave the people of Aniria a parcel of land to build upon it something beautiful. Unlike the other cities of their land which were built to defend their people from the threats surrounding them, this city would be built to enrich their lives. The vision was simple; to be the centre of non-magic learning. Of art. Science. Culture. It would draw the greatest minds across the world to the Anirian Kingdom and as such they would grow stronger. The architect who were charged with building what would become colloquially known as the Heart of Aniria set to the task with feverish determination to create something that would make even the elven cities pale in comparison. Gone were the stout, defensible walls of fortresses and castles that had become the typical architecture of the Anirian kingdom and in its place were curved walls and vaulted, domed ceilings. Large windows made up of beautiful pieces of artwork made from coloured glass and tiled floors that echoed the light at certain times of the day. What was more, was that those who built Vel Zrada refused the help of Dreadlords and instead relied on the skill of ordinary men and women.

When the city opened, nearly 70 years after it had begun construction, the founders children hosted a Masquerade Ball in honour of the visionaries who had come together - from every background - to create this oasis where Anirians could forget war and politics. Unlike other stuffy occasions, the Rose Masquerade was meant to be open to all regardless of station and the masks became a symbolic way of freeing people from those social chains. Over recent years, the Ball also became a chance for those who lived and worked within Vel Zrada to showcase the latest inventions, music, art and more.

* * *
​

Jiya Luana had never felt very at home in Vel Anir. It's harsh ways and political meanderings were a far cry from the life she had envisaged for herself - hoped for herself - and had even been in reach when she had left for Elbion. But Vel Zrada... here she felt that sense of nationalism her father had always berated her for lacking. She held no small amount of pride that it was one of her own ancestors who was responsible for its creation and the Anirian Rose Masquerade was one of the few social occasions she actually enjoyed attending.

Her mask was created by rising artist Letrice A'Murrah, a young woman who had been one of the Luana's scholarship winners and from everything Jiya had seen, was going to be one to watch in the coming years. The opulent feathers matched the skirt of her dress whilst the top half echoed the gold detailing and remained quite simple.

The Greenhouse - as the building holding the ballroom was affectionately nicknamed - was lit just right for this hour. The setting sun hitting the ocean waves outside spilled through certain slashes of the stained glass windows filling the room with rosy, ambient lighting. Dancers already crowded the floor and were being taken through a new dance and several paintings stood on easels around the room that groups had gathered to admire. Taking a glass of wine from a nearby table - there was minimal staff tonight so as many people could enjoy it as possible - Jiya slid over to one of the inventions on a plinth to read what it did.

 

[Wilhelm Anireth]

"My Lord, your father..."

"My father can go fuck himself, Lynol," Wilhelm cut the manservant off before he could try and push the ridiculous suit and mask on him one more time. It looked like something his grandfather would have worn, some stuffy military cut and a mask that hid practically nothing of his face so everyone would know whilst pretending that they didn't. What was the fucking point of that? This ball had been one of the few interesting things to fall upon his desk among the trivial invites to luncheon and walking and fencing practice and blah ble blah blah! A chance to dress up, be whoever you were, and suffer no consequences? The only downside was that his father wouldn't know just how much his son was embarrassing him. No doubt Lynol the snitch would tell him he had refused to wear the museum piece though.

Adjusting his mask one more time.

"How do I look?"

The whole outfit had been a last minute acquisition when he had learned what horrendous outfit his father had sent with him. Thankfully the streets of Vel Zrada had been full of costumes and masks specifically for the upcoming ball. Wil had wasted no time finding an outfit that would rile his father up. Lynol gave him a grimacing smile which Wil took for the compliment it was; nobody would expect a Prince to be walking around in a nightmarish jester ensemble with its wide pantaloons in garish colours and a ruff that would have made his great grandmother jealous.

"Excellent," he said firmly then strode into the ballroom. "Don't wait up Lynol!"

 

[Kasim Areth]

Kasim, like Jiya, had never enjoyed much of Noble life in Vel Anir. His father had ensured that his education had been in the Anirian style, focused on the ways of the world and war. As the head of House Virak, nothing else would have been expected of him. He could have been a General, a soldier, the very leader of Vel Anir itself, at least that was what his father would have said.

It had been a stroke of luck that his mother had been the counter to that side of the weight.

Valeria Virak had been born in Adro, a city of science, wonder, and discovery. A city that very much reflected some of the tenants of Vel Zrada. During her marriage to his father, Kasim's mother had done a great deal more than any of her House ever had for the city he now found himself standing in.

House Virak had never been known for it's patronage of the arts, though from time to time even they found their enthusiasm, but Valeria had been like a blazing sun in the night. She had donated to artists, scientists, and inventors. She had given time, thrown events, and done everything she could have to bring her home cities manner to Vel Anir.

His father had never approved, though had never stopped her either.

Had never even argued.

Something that at the time had seemed very unlike his father. Kasim frowned for a moment, his head shaking as he dispelled the dark thought. His eyes flickering over the invention in front of him, reading the small placard before he spoke outloud to the woman who had sidled up to the same piece. "A marvel."

Kasim muttered quietly, his head shaking. The mask he wore an understated and quiet thing a pale reflection of a fox, created by an artist not from Vel Anir, but Dornoch.

"Would that I had something like this on some mornings during school." He chuckled, motioning at the small mechanical clock which supposedly let out a shrill noise at a set time.

 

[Aelita]

Aelita stood at the Vel Zrada ball out of a quirk that had yet to catch up to current events.

Prior to the Anirian Revolution, events such as this would have been an ideal way for a Dreadlord mentor to introduce their pupil to those of their House. Inviting Initiates to help with the security of very-important-people just made it a convenient excuse to do so.

Yet that whole system had been upended. No more service under a House. No need to be acquainted with the nobles before graduation. So, while Aelita and some other Initiates arrived to supplement the Anirian Guard’s security, there were no plans to get them acquainted with nobles – they no longer individually held Dreadlords by the reigns.

Therefore, Aelita stood at the ready at a side entrance to the ballroom. Far away. From all the lights. The pleasant music. The delicious, luxurious food. The weird fountains spewing what should be wine.

Sigh.

Aelita stood fully armored, with a spear-tipped staff, and an iron mask. A fellow Initiate stood in place on the other side of the entryway.

So far, the night was uneventful. And from what her superiors have said, they had no reason to believe anything like Falwood elves or a second revolution would appear this night.

However, Aelita break time soon approached. An opportunity to enact an idea that had been lingering in her mind for a bit...

 

[Mariana]

Did minor houses count as nobility?

Mariana didn't know. But it was her brother, Alistair Krixus, who'd made her come here. She'd much rather be drawing in her room. Or eating some of Mrs. Hursh's meals. But here she was, her small little self, stuck in stiff, fancy clothes. At least she got to wear a fox mask that she'd painted herself. But the mask only resembled a fox face in shape and stopped there. Much like her latest patch of highlighted hair, it was painted instead with neon blues and yellow-greens. With a dash of purple.

Krixus blue eyes widened behind the mask as she entered. "Dios mio," she whispered. One would think it would be the art and all the strange invention things that caught the young girl's attention. Or even the size or grandeur of a room that no street urchin could even dream about.

No.

It was the table in the center with the giant chocolate fountain in the middle with rows upon rows of mini cakes and fruits and cookies to be dipped in. She quickly scurried over.

 

[Ivan Skender]

The Masquerade. An occasion which everyone in Aniria could attend and partake in without regards to class, or social status. It would have been a very fitting event for him then, since Ivan could not tell with full certainty to which strata he was supposed to belong to. He was a noble yes, but a broke one with no influence whatsoever… which sort-of defeated the entire point of nobility, didn’t it?

In any case, Ivan was not there to partake in the festivities but rather, much like some of his fellow initiates, had been dragged to this place to support the Anirian Guard with their security apparatus. Fully clad in jet-black armour, with an iron mask and a non-descript sword hanging by his waist, he looked very much the part he was meant to play. This was in contrast to his supervising proctor however, just a stone’s throw away from him, who seemed more keen in flirting with some random woman in a rather revealing outfit. Needless to say that, while Ivan did not quite mind his superior’s slacking, he did resent the fact that he himself was not allowed to engage in anything of that sort.

“You know,” - He said to the proctor, after the woman walked away, in a tone of feigned reproach, mimicking a tutor scolding his student. - “it is inappropriate to engage in self-indulging behaviour while on duty; it is irresponsible, makes the institution look bad, lowers morale, and-

“Shut up, Skender.” The officer barked, putting an end to Ivan’s sarcastically self-righteous recitation of the scoldings the proctors usually gave at the academy. “Why don’t you make yourself useful and go tour the rest of the room?”

With a mildly annoyed exhale, Ivan complied. He surveyed the ballroom to make out a path to take and settled on a route going just around one of the wine fountains. If he was discreet and smooth enough, he could even swipe a glass of the stuff.​

 

[Jiya Luana]

Jiya glanced up at the figure who stepped up to join her in scrutinising the "time-watcher" and found herself frowning behind her mask.

Why is that voice so familiar...

It was not a voice she had heard recently but rather tickled at the memories from before she had left for Elbion when she was just a girl. The revolution had drawn back many wayward souls so the names of various merchants and nobles she had known did not help narrow it down. She found herself staring longer than she intended, wishing to somehow see beyond the mask.

"Agreed," she said eventually and turned to look back at the invention. "I suppose we have the tower bells for on the hour reminders, but sometimes you just want an extra 30 minutes..."

 

[Amell Quillon]

Though Amell wore a mask, his limp did little to hide his nature. For once he wasn’t in uniform, either uniform whether it was actual armor or the standard attire of a captain. Mild finery, as he would have put it, since his best pieces were usually designed to incorporate the colors of Quillon and therefore their ties to Urahil.

Tonight wasn’t a night for nobility to get together to sneer at each other from opposite sides of a room. If it were, Amell felt that he’d be left quite to his own devices. No, tonight was all about the arts.

Amell couldn’t draw for shit, even his stick-figures seemed to belong more to the hand of a four year old than his own. Perhaps it was due to the lack of his artistic ability that he had kept his mask simple. It only covered his eyes, starting from the top of his eyebrows to end at the highest point on then bridge of his nose. It was not white at least, or pure black. Amell had some tastes: it was a cool-tone brown, like the crust of wheat bread.

Throughout, seemingly emerging without pattern, were painted pockets of shimmering silver. It matched his pale, icy eyes.

Yes, Amell looked the part for tonight, if only he still didn’t have that irritating limp. Dear Lords and Ladies, how he wish to be back with his men up North. It had been so long since he had politicked around. And what was he supposed to comment on? Oh wow, this painting is sooOooOoo abstract, look at this man who has two noses and one eye with that wide, unnatural smile! Ooh. And this one! A bunch of paint and scribbles on canvas! How CrEaTiVe. If this is what people were considering art nowadays then he could become a artist if it meant he could just pour paint on canvas and call it a day.

Ugh, he needed a drink. Instead of looking at anymore of these paintings he went to the only place he had visited twice now: he had a empty glass in his hand and it was time for a refill. Maybe when he was rightly tipsy could he actually understand the art and maybe find more appreciation of it.

“Excuse me,” he said to the initiates, almost bumping into Mariana because this good-for-nothing mask covered too much of his peripheral. At least with the other tall blonde man nearby he could see him and side stepped around him. “Do you two need a glass as well? I’ll pour,” Amell said as he raised a bottle of Diemut Red. Not the best wine here in his opinion, but Amell liked the way the head of the Diemut family thought. He was someone Amell actually liked supporting. In truth, he often bought the wine in multiple cases, even when he was away from home.

Mariana Ivan Skender

 

[Kasim Areth]

Kasim smiled to himself for a brief moment, remembering those early schools days. Practically being forced out of bed by his brother. Rein had always been the better student of the two of them, ironically. The two of them having been fated to be experts at each others favored crafts.

The object before them was so inane, genius, but it wouldn't solve any world problem. Yet it evoked something within her, memories long pushed aside due to the pain they caused. for a few more seconds he stared at it, and then finally pulled his eyes away.

He faced Jiya now, the smile on his face holding that same familiarity bug aged almost two decades.

It was easy to see the searching in her eyes. A natural inquisitiveness mixed with finding something that seemed familiar. It was an expression that he had encountered non-stop since his return. "But, not a problem we have to worry about now, eh Jiya?"

Kasim jested.

He recognized her of course, though it had taken him a few minutes as well. Memories such as that tended to stick, and even fifteen years later it was hard to forget the daughter of what was supposedly your most hated enemy.

Plus, it was easier to recognize the girl sent away, than the boy that died.

 

[Aelita]

Just as Ivan would be sent off to patrol the ballroom, the time finally came for Aelita!

“Initiate,” an Aniran Guardsman said as he approached, “Take your break.”

Giving a salute, Aelita responded with a cheerful, “Yes, sir!”

And with that, a Guardman replaced Aelita at one of the ballroom’s entrances. The young woman walked off toward their makeshift quarters. These breaks were meant to be something like quick naps, or a quick bite to eat, or just some time to rest up and stay sharp in order to protect the ball goers should the worst occur.

But Aelita planned to deviate from that...

---

After a brief bit of time, a young brunette woman entered the ballroom from a side entrance. A few attendees have “disappeared” in (mostly) pairs already, so someone returning from such distractions raised little concern to most guards.

The woman moved across the ballroom – avoiding the dance floor so as not to disturb others. A few people glanced toward her, which she returned a smile and a quick nod to.

Especially compared to some gaudy outfits, this woman wore simple attire. Her feline-like mask could easily fit in many festivals across Arethil. She wore no jewelry – which not only could display wealth, but could also be a tell to someone’s identity should they don something they commonly wear. Her dark green blue was simple – barely any laces, and all of them could be reached by the person wearing it.

Since the ball placed no limits on who could attend based on status, the woman faced no objection to her appearance yet.

The first place this woman stopped at? Well, it had to be the literally magical wine fountain first. Why?

Because this was Aelita, of course!

The woman took an empty glass and filled it with some red wine. She took a sip with a relieved look upon her face.

Why go through the trouble of maintaining an appearance like this?

Because for those like Aelita and Ivan, the Guardsmen specifically forbade the Initiates from drinking during the ball...

 

[Mariana]

"He-ey," she protested as an adult nearly ran her over. Amell Quillon

Did she use it as an opportunity to check his pockets? Absolutely. Old habits didn't just get erased overnight or in this case, over a fortnight. Hard to say if she'd find anything, though.

"Do you two need a glass as well? I’ll pour,”

She'd never had alcohol before. It reminded her of what some of the adults would drink in Vel Lameus during the Día de Muertos. Stepping back, she looked up. Between the two blonds. Ivan Skender and Amell Quillon.

"Yes please."

 

[Ivan Skender]

“It wouldn’t do to drink while on duty.” - He stated, so innocently one could have been forgiven for thinking he was the most well-behaved initiate at the Academy. - “I couldn’t, even if I wanted to.”

Of course that, in truth, just saying the words hurt his soul. Yes, he did want a glass and yes, he had been hunting for a stealthy way to acquire one. Security however, was not allowed to partake and while he did fancy some liquor, he did not crave it over the beating he would get if he was found drinking in public.

It was as Amell raised the wine bottle though that he saw it, as clearly as his reflection on the side of that Diemut Red.

Plan B.

“But please, do allow me to pour it for you.” - Without waiting for a response, he gently snatched the bottle from Amell Quillon and proceeded to pour some of its contents into two identical glasses. He handed these over to Mariana and Amell, and then turned around to go store the bottle. That was when the magic happened - quite literally.

Glass was not exactly easy to decay, but again he did not actually mean to corrode the entire bottle into oblivion, but rather just to focus down on a small portion of the object. A crack soon appeared close to the bottleneck and down the side of the glass. From that angle, with his back turned to the rest of the ballroom, there was no one else with a clear line of sight to the bottle, and so his little stunt should be almost imperceptible to most other guests.

In a rather theatrical display, Ivan then “accidentally” loosened his grip on the Diemut Red so that the bottle bounced off the hard edge of a table nearby, before he “skillfully” caught it again mid-air.

“Ah, no.” - He hissed, as he now presented the cracked side to Amell and Mariana. “This won’t do. We can’t have our guests cutting themselves on broken glass. Please excuse me while I take this back to the kitchens.”​

Mariana Amell Quillon

 

[Alistair Krixus]

A tall, dark-haired, well-muscled man stepped into the Heart of Anira and looked up at the tall ceilings with a small smile. He was dressed in a simple combination of black and silver, fine clothes that denoted he had some level of wealth, but nothing to clearly note him as a noble. His mask of choice was an owl mask that he had allowed Mariana to make under the condition that it was a simple silver in color.

The Rose Masquerade had been an event that Alistair had volunteered for every chance he could during his time as an initiate. He loved visiting the city and events particularly to keep up to date with the newest in technological innovation. Too many mages kept their interest in the arcane, but these marvels that did not use magic were far more impressive to him.

"Where did she go?"

He whispered under his breath as his eyes scanned over the area looking for Mariana's noticeable colored hair. A small frown appeared on his face as he spotted her, but it did not look like she was in immediate trouble.

She had been busy recently with her education, so he would allow her to be free and have some fun. Alistair would just keep her eyes on him from afar. Instead, he turned to go inspect some of the individual pieces that they had on display here.

 

[Amell Quillon]

The noble said nothing as Ivan poured the wine for Mariana and himself. He was about to tell the well-muscled blonde that the rules could bend for one glass of red. He did frown as he heard the chink of breaking glass from the wine bottle, Amell covered up his displeasure by taking a sip from his glass.

“Shame,” Amell told Mariana, his icy gaze following after Ivan’s slowly disappearing form. “I’m quite fond of this blend.”

Mariana Ivan Skender

 

[Jiya Luana]

Well, that was even more infuriating wasn't it?

Jiya so very much hated not knowing something. It was a quality that had driven her through all of her studies and had resulted in the successful career she had been building for herself in Elbion. Before her home had been consumed in fire and death. But not that quirk reared its ugly head and she found her lips twisted with irritation. Again, her mind screamed at her that she knew that voice but where, where?

"I don't know, I think I would have more of a use of it now than I did as a college student. If I was late then I would be able to catch up by reading a few books, if I miss a parliament though?" Well, anyone who had an inclining of politics would know the catastrophe that would be for her house. Perhaps his answer would give her a clue as to who he was.

 

[Kasim Areth]

A small laugh passed from his lips, head shaking as he took in a breath. "Aye well."

He glanced over towards the device one more time.

"I suppose that's the difference between us." At this point it felt almost cruel to continue this little game. It had been amusing at first, but he could see the frustration growing within her eyes. "You took on the responsibility you never should have had."

Kasim continued. "And I gave it all to my sister."

A wry chuckle escaped his throat. "Not that she knew there had ever been another choice until recently."

There, that would be enough, he thought.

 

[Aelita]

Brunette!Aelita continued to make her way through the confections and alcohol. In no time, she took a second drink.

The sound of breaking glass caught Aelita’s attention. She looked over to see Ivan, Mariana, and Amell. While all of them wore masks obscuring their identities, Ivan’s attire would be recognized by those involved in the ball’s security.

Despite her apparent disguise, Aelita decided to shuffle away from the scene and Ivan with a glass of wine at hand.

But in her hurry to put get some distance away from Ivan, Aelita failed to keep a look out for the path ahead.

bump

Aelita would have lightly ran into the back of another patron. Her immediate reaction was to cover the wine glass to prevent any of it from spilling. She then looked up to see a man with long, dark hair.

Alistair Krixus, incognito with an owl mask.

“Sorry,” Aelita told him with an awkard smile.

 

[Jiya Luana]

"Erich?" Jiya exclaimed. There was nobody else it could be and yet, she had thought this man dead. It should be impossible and yet.. "But how are you here? How can you... You... They said you were dead!" aware she was in company she gently cupped his elbow and guided him to a more private area; for once she was around like minded people and the inventions drew them all like moths to an open flame. The corners - and ironically the dance floor - were much more private. Deciding now was not the time to test her rusty dance moves she opted for the former.

"I apologise for all my questions but... it's not very often a man walks back from death still himself," she gave him an assessing look then. "You... are still yourself?"

 

[Kasim Areth]

An amused smile flickered over his face.

The contrast between Jiya's reaction and Lynus' was...almost heartening in a way. The questions rattling off a mile a minute as she lead him towards one of the corners of the great hall. "As far as I know, I am."

Kasim said, prodding at his own chest as if checking. "But...well, it's a long story."

The smile disappeared from his lips.

"When I..." He shook his head. "When the accident happened..."

Calling it an accident was a lie, and Jiya was smart enough to put some puzzle pieces into place, but there was no need to whisper the details of his families sordid affairs in these halls. "When Reinhard died, I knew I couldn't stay."

He shook his head.

"I never wanted to lead, I never wanted power or...anything." Kasim frowned for a moment, then continued. "Everyone already thought I was dead, including my father, so I ran. I left Vel Anir, took a new name and traveled the world."

It sounded so simple, all summed up.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair had become busy looking over the finer details of an invention that was referred to as a printing press. It still seemed to be in the early stages, but the ability to mass produce writings without needing to use magic would expand the amounts of literature and Vel Anir, and surely that would also increase literacy in the Republic.

His eyes trailed over the lettering as he wanted to understand entirely how it worked, but was taken from his moment of focus by someone bumping into him.

He turned to look down on a blonde-headed girl that almost looked familiar, but what did he know? He knew a lot of blondes. His eyes focused on the glass of wine, thankful that it had not spilled on him.

"Forgive and forget. It is difficult to focus in this place with so many incredible works." He offered with a polite smile.

Aelita

 

[Mariana]

“Thanks,” the very underage person said to Ivan Skender as he handed her a glass of wine. She’d never had alcohol before. Vaguely aware that he flounced off with the bottle. Eyes flickered to Amell Quillon as she took a sip. Half swallowing it before an expression like she had major regrets crossed the parts of her face that weren’t covered by the mask.

“Blep,” any remaining liquid in her mouth dropped back out and tumbled back into her wine glass.

That other blond was fond of this stuff?

“Here, you can have mine,” she’d thrust her wine glass filled with a hint of backwash to him. She’s grown up on the streets so everything was waste not want not. And while some may have seen it as a slight, she saw it as perfectly normal. Look at her, being thoughtful.

Then she’d scurry off to what she was really after. The chocolate fountain.

 

[Ivan Skender]

Without any further impediments, Ivan made his way out of the ballroom through a side door. He would return though, a few moments later, leaving behind an almost empty bottle of Diemut Red. With hindsight, maybe it had not been such a great idea to chug the better part of the thing in such a short time, but by this point that ship had sailed and was, in all honesty, very close to wrecking. Ivan however, was solidly confident in his alcohol tolerance… The Academy did not raise weaklings after all.

He continued then, in as steady a pace as possible through the ballroom, taking great care not to bump into anyone, until he ran into his supervisor.

“Skender.”- The man started, stopping himself almost immediately after to contort his face into an expression that looked very much like disgust. -“You reek of wine.”-

“Ah, yes.” - He replied, somewhat wide-eyed and rather unsure of what to say. -“There was a … uh … a woman that spilled some wine over me when I was making the rounds.” - He continued, motioning vaguely towards the ballroom. His speech was starting to come out slightly dragged, but he hoped it was firm enough not to raise any suspicions for the time being. - “Nothing else to report.” -

“Well, good.”- The supervisor responded. -“In any case, your break is up. Do take the chance to change out of that armour. It stinks.”-

“Yes, sir!”

On his way to the barracks, he passed by a cloakroom that had been set-up for the occasion. For many of the invitees, the masquerade was, needless to say, a chance to splurge and show off some of their finest clothes and finery… which meant that every time it was held, there were guests that overdressed for the event and left coats, as well as some other pieces behind. While the room was sealed and deserted by this stage of the party, Ivan realised that maybe his participation in the masquerade did not have to end so soon.

Walking up to the closed door, he waved his hand over the lock. Instantly, the metal started to redden as it rusted, and within seconds it was so brittle that he could easily force the door open. Inside, he quickly took out his armour, which by this point he could still perfectly - even if not so easily, in his current state - take out, stored it in a hidden corner of the room, and went browsing for a new set of clothes. He ended up settling on a stylish leather jacket, as well as a dark-blue and black mask. Due to its quirky make and shape, the latter looked like it had been a smaller part of a larger whole that some schmuck had left behind, but it would do all the same. It also had a crown-like embellishment on top which he hoped would help partially cover his hairline, and make it harder for someone of the guard or another initiate to recognize him.

Without wasting any more time, Ivan once more made his way to the ballroom.​

 

[Aelita]

Aelita’s hair actually appeared as a dark brown in the moment she bumped into Alistair. However, that and her gown appeared to have a soft, faint sheen. This brunette!Aelita also had the same height and jawline as the real deal.

And also the same voice.

“Yeah, good thing I didn’t spill!” she said with a brighter smile and half laugh.

As if prompted by Alistair’s words, Aelita turned her head over to the machine. She tilted her head. Her eyes squinted.

“Incredible works? What is it?” she asked just before taking a sip of wine.

 

[Alistair Krixus]

Alistair was more than happy to go back to looking at the invention, once he was satisfied that no wine had been spilled on him.

"It's called a printing press. They use block letters and rearrange them to create words, then they simply douse them in ink and use force to quickly print out the words...While not as quick as a magical quill, it would allow anyone to quickly print out words with speed. I can think of a few monks that would love this contraption."

Alistair said with a rather obvious sense of mirth.

Aelita

 

[Jiya Luana]

Blessed Anhita, was she feeling jealousy over this man's fate? Perhaps. It made sense logically for he had managed to obtain what she still secretly hoped for; freedom.

"Then why did you come back?" Jiya asked in disbelief. To have escaped the titanic pull of Aniria somehow and created his own life elsewhere... why throw it all away to come back? "Do you really think it has changed that much?" contempt dripped for each word though not directed at him from the way her eyes slanted to the festivities playing out before them. Even here, secret, murmured conversations were happening. Anirian's couldn't forget what was in their nature.