Private Tales Unlikely Meetings

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White Swallow

White Swallow

The White Swallow of Narra
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Azrana, leaning against an arcade with crossed over arms gazed upon the two soldiers. The moment their eyes met, the blue ogre nodded his head, and the two were quick to rally towards him.

The evening was cast in a brilliant lapis lazuli blue and embroidered in golden stars. The cold breeze would wave the nearby garden grasses, bringing refreshing air to an otherwise sun-tired giant.

The two men in armour approached and bowed. The orc only let out a strong puff of smoke from his nostrils and a low grunt.

»Follow me, « he murmured lowly as his arms unfolded and he stood into the light of a nearby mounted torch.
 
For as loud were the crickets, the men were silent. for as fearful the fireflies were in their flight, the men were as stiff as perfect automata in their stride.

Going past the elaborate rows of arcades, a small pointed door at a turret made its presence known with a singular wall-mounted lamp on the side. Moths gathered around the flame, appearing as golden flecks orbiting the sun.

as they entered, their steps resonated over the tiled floors. Through the stairway and past the hallway.
The man in the end already anticipated them.
 
»They are here,« Azrana lowly rumbled as he stepped aside, revealing the two soldiers that stood behind him. They were as stiff as bronze statues.

Rahman Ibn Zaromar Ibn Shahnaz Al Arda gazed out of the window, his hands together behind his back. It seemed to the ogre as if the man had never left at all.
Slowly Azrana stepped into the shadow, seemingly disappearing from the room.

»Come forth,« spoke the honoured Rahman.

The two hesitated slightly before Ibn Adil made his first step towards him. The swallow followed suit and the two landed shy before the honoured man.
 
The honoured Rahman kept gazing at Say'Kube, planting his arms onto the railing and leaning outside.
»Arsalaan was not expecting your bands to be this late to arrive at As Nineban. However, your transgressions have been forgiven.«

The two were still and silent, only their heartbeat made a sound.

»I've heard of your connuning victory against the attacking forces in Maraan, commendable. Truly.« His voice didn't sound ecstatic nor pleased.
»The honoured speak well of you two. They've been observing you for long and I do not think your loyalty is to be doubted.« Rahman turned around slowly to face them, his visage obscured by the sheen of the moonlight from behind him.
 
Steps over tiled floors echoed through the hallway.

The white swallow tensed up and glanced over the seemingly statue-like friend of his. If only he knew what was going in his mind.

"...Honoured Dai Rahman, we only do as Al Khaleq commands us to." Ibn Adil respectfully bowed. "No setback would ever have us turn our backs against our Sayyiduna."
 
»As expected from his subjects, no doubt, yet the sand is stirred, the wind is not at rest and the stars have dulled. War is brewing.«
Honoured Dai Rahman turned his back on them, returning to gaze at Say'Kube as ever. Like a watchful eagle on his perch.
»I have a task for you both. White Swallow, you must go with Zakariyya and lend him aid in the forthcoming battle. And you...Ibn Adil, you must return to As Nineban, alone where you will get further instruction.«
 
The following day, early morning.

Nadim picked up his saddle from the barracks, washed his face and roused the rest of the soldiers to wake for the morning drills.
He wouldn't be attending this time.

Stepping outside onto the open hallways, his eyes gazed upon the silhouette of the mountains in the distance. Blue with a coating of white against a backdrop of gold. The sky was still so dark, but growing lighter by the second. Arsaalan Rode by the sidelines with his personal troop, practising charges and mounted maneuvers. It was almost hard to believe that their military leaders was once upon a time just like him. A soldier.

Not wanting to stall further, he saddled his horse and moved out of the Keep's courtyard.
The city was always almost deathly still at this hour, only loiterers remained in the streets and a few of the early birds that would settle to work on their craft. What a sprawling city it was, yet it felt desolate. Ibn Adil almost felt solemn leaving it at such a time, alas it might be for the better when nothing was holding his back.

The southern gates were reached after minutes of travel, he hollered at the gate guards.
»I need to pass!«
»You cannot at this time, it's early,« one of the gate guards shouted back. >
»I have a missive, from Dai Rahman.«
This seemed to perk his interest. »If so, Omar, go see.«
The guard that was stationed at the bottom took the parchment, checked it over and nodded his head at the gate guard.

Slowly it opened and would remain so for the daily visitors from distant and near towns. It was too much effort to open and close the gates all the time.


And there it was, the sprawling county of Sey-Kube.
 
Ibn Adil made his way through the rough terrain. The path before him was dusty and barren. The stars were still bright as the horizon painted itself in an intense, wine-like red. Soon, they would die out and disappear.

His mare snorted mist through her nostrils as she tapped her hoof over the floor. A 'Hyaa' made her pace in a comfortable trot. The ground was sloped oh so slightly downward and the mare had little trouble going forward.

Rows of trees would greet him, waving slightly in the wind. Soon as the sun began to show its cheeks over the mountains, scare groups of people began to congregate on the roads. Small groups, larger groups, going to Sey'Kube or further. Some on horses, others on oxen mules or donkeys. Some came in daily, others weekly, hauling goods or labour. All came from both near and very far.
He would give little attention to them, there were still enemies among the people, but the common masses had some reverence for the Sayyiduna's men. Perhaps mostly for never touching their lands maliciously as other warlords would.
 
Alone on the road was always a danger. A lack of loyal men by his side removed any sense of security, yet an entire Warband of men in armour were an obvious threat to the local unopposed leaders.
Just a man on a horse, going down a road. Amir Farid Ibn Baha was the closest of the regional rulers in the southern lands, an enemy of the people.
What was a mere rider in commoner clothes to him?
Nadim passed a troop of his men idly standing guard over a camp. He averted his gaze and moved forward untill he was out of sight. Even with roadside thieves and brigands dealt with, there were always other troubles and dangers on the way.
 
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A sliver of water appeared from behind the hillside. Rafters guided their way among the calm water downward. For quite a while Nadim Ibn Adil could follow them in tandem until the river changed course. The road was empty for a good long while and the trip to As Nineban was unopposed.


Arriving under the castle, he was rounded up by many men like him. Nadim showed them the symbol of the order, and as many others before him, accepted him through the gate.
 
»And what brings you here, Ibn Adil?« Spoke Issa and he looked over the mark.

»Dai Rahman Ibn Zaromar sent me.«
Issa tilted his head, exchanging glances with his men. »You are the one to meet Dai Esfandyar...« Issa's voice was calm and quiet.
 
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»Is there anything... « »Hush now,« Issa raised his arm, leading the troop towards the gates of As Nineban. The whole ride was silent, even the donning Seh seemed quieter than ever.

The gate was opened and the unit was soon found within the walls, dismounting.
Issa beckoned to Nadim, leading him through an indoor stairway towards the higher level and the central keep.
Even Issa was not allowed to enter. He went towards the great door but no further ahead.
Nadim had to go on alone.
 
Nadim Ibn Adil stepped forward, the sound echoing through the tiled hallway. This was the keep where most were forbidden to walk.

And yet he was here, right behind the entrance. His gaze shifting from one end of the tunnel to another.

»Are you the new initiate?« Echoed a female voice.
»I am, my name is Nadim Ibn Adil, here to see Esfandyar.«
Footsteps pitter-pattered over the staircase as a young woman dressed in robes came flying down in front of him.
»Follow me Nadim, Esfandyar is busy right now, but he was eager to meet his new student.«
 
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