“Stay in the waiting room and don’t leave until summoned by Lady Greywand,” Vomarian Fae of the Legion of Death stable and captain of the Unsinkable III said.
“Aren’t you coming?” My-re asked.
“No, I was instructed to not come any further,” Vomarian said and closed the door.
My-re of the Heath Alteration Squad scanned the very small room within the Academy of the Eye, better known to Lord Protectors as the Stronghold Academy. It was a school of sorcery, the best and most prestigious school of its kind in all Alastari. She heard the wizards studied and trained to defend Alastari against any great invasion, so there was a heavy emphasis on battle spells and even rumors of how to open and close—mostly close—Chaos Gates.
Sitting behind a desk with a single large, fat candle lighting the room was a venerable and meek old man with thick spectacles supported by a crooked nose. His head sported a fluffy snow-white afro and matching beard. His lips sunk into his mouth and his skin was paper thin. My-re wouldn’t have been surprised if he’d already seen his 100th birthday five years ago. The old man didn’t look up from his desk as he pushed a piece of paper across his desk with a matching white feathered quill.
“Please fill out the form and return it to me when completed.”
The room had four chairs facing forward with an extension to write on. Opposite the chairs and only a few feet away, at most, was the old man sitting behind his desk. There were no pictures on the wall. My-re winced at the confines. Two people would have to turn sideways if their paths crossed. It wasn’t designed for comfort and, if anything else, was the exact opposite. The space in a common broom closet would be considered a luxury. Even the air had a heavy presence of its own and seemed to push down on her.
My-re looked at the parchment and its writing, which were nothing more than spidery lines in ink. “I don’t know how to fill this out.”
The old man knocked his glasses to the edge of his nose, so he could look at her and replied, “I heard you were bright, but it seems not intelligent. Just make your mark to show you were here.”
Her eyes narrowing, the door opened and Lady Shelia Greywand entered wearing an elegantly decorated flowing gown. At almost six feet tall, she had straight, raven black hair and brown eyes. Her olive skin covered wide cheekbones, a strong jaw, and a long nose, a feature that made her more striking than beautiful.
“Jenkins, there will be no record of this meeting,” Shelia said and plucked the paper from My-re’s hand and held it under the fat candle’s flame until it caught fire. The flame hungrily ate the parchment and it disintegrated to ash when Shelia dropped it to the desk.
My-re followed Shelia through the inner keep, a maze of corridors twisted in all directions. Light from sconces lit what she assumed was priceless works of art and vases filling the nooks and crannies. She expected guards in polished breastplate armor and halberds to line the hallway, but it was just the two of them. They advanced towards an exquisite double door, which opened as they approached. The great oval chamber could fit a multitude of guests at once. Cushioned chairs and oversized sofas furnished the room with dozens of multi-colored pillows. However, all of these were pushed to one side of the chamber. Light from Alastari’s full moon shown through a gigantic opening high in the ceiling. Sconces lit the chamber.
There were three things of note in the center of the room; a large decretive table, a small hand-sized wooden chest sitting on it, and a lady.
Staring at My-re and Sheila with sky-blue eyes was a well-dressed woman in an elaborately detailed, heavy garment. The dress design was that of overlapping cloth scales extending from around her waist covering another longer set going around concealing her legs. A simple, white floral design decorated the dark-blue fabric over a sleeveless and strapless top reaching diagonally towards her right shoulder. Taller and leaner than My-re, she had a natural beauty with wide-set eyes, high cheekbones, and feminine sensuality. Her straight, golden sheen blond hair hung to the middle of her back. Her fair facial features had a splattering of freckles across her youthful face. She moved towards them gracefully with the self-confidence of a woman born to nobility.
“My-re may I present Feriale of the Drankenfell Mountains,” Shelia said.
My-re wasn’t sure what to do. She felt out of place wearing simple work clothing in the present of the two well-dressed women. Folding her arms across her chest for security, she opened her mouth and hoped something intelligent would come. Nothing. Feriale’s attention was solely on her, and both her brain and tongue failed her. Her eyes darted to Shelia and wished she would be inspired by something, anything. Sweat dropped from her armpits and her stomach churned.
“This is Araminth’s mother,” Shelia continued.
This was a trap My-re thought to herself. Anger quickly overshadowed nervousness. This was nothing but a ploy to guilt My-re to go on the search for the person, this Araminth. They didn’t care she was banished from the Rirorni Empire. They only cared she had a skill they needed and could be discarded when no longer useful. Just an asset to be used. Heat rushed to her face.
“Feriale is graciously funding the expedition,” Shelia said and walked to the table with the small, hand-sized chest and opened it. Inside, was a multitude of gems of various sizes and colors, which cascaded down each other at its movement.
My-re forgot her ire at the sight of the wealth before her. She approached, fixated on the gems’ luster.
“Choose,” Shelia motioned. “Whatever one you want.”
My-re plucked a large, blue sapphire slightly larger than the tip of her pinky finger. Her rational mind kicked in. Snorting she said, “I can’t be bought with a mere gem.”
A smile spread across Shelia’s face. “You do not understand. This entire chest is yours.”
Her eyes switched between Shelia, Feriale, and then back to the chest of precious stones.
“The entire chest is mine, if I go on the expedition into the Rirorni Empire?” My-re asked.
“Yes,” Shelia answered.
“I’m banished. My life is forfeit if I get caught. I’m sorry, but I can’t go,” My-re said, placed the stone back in the chest, and turned to leave. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw Feriale move.
“My-re, my child is missing.”
The words were not so much as heard, but felt and spoke directly into her brain. They were strong and powerful. It caused her to stagger.
“What in the nine hells was that?” My-re asked touching her forehead and rebalancing herself.
“Apologies. It is called mind speak and a method of translating their language,” Shelia added quickly. “It can be jarring the first few dozen times.”
“You’ve got that right. If you don’t mind I’ll be leaving now. I like this world I’m living in,” My-re said.
Feriale stepped forward and her presence overshadowed all. “When Araminth vanished, my world stopped. If you can aid finding my child and return her home, I implore you.”
My-re blinked several times as the words echoed in her mind. She looked to Shelia who nodded and then to Feriale whose brow furrowed in concern and worry that only a mother could produce. She then muttered quietly to herself in Rathiri, the Rirorni native language, which roughly translated to ‘procreate with oneself’.
“All right, I’ll go,” My-re said.
“Thank you,” Shelia said as Feriale smiled with relief and slightly nodded to My-re.
My-re turned to leave, but hesitated. She went back to the table, closed the gem filled chest, and picked up the heavy than expected container. “I have a few things I need to buy before we go.”
* * *
A few moments after My-re left…
“Even with My-re as part of the expedition, there is no guarantee they will find Araminth,” Shelia said. “There is concern that some hardship may have befallen her.”
“I am not concerned. Araminth is dragon and to be dragon is to know hardship,” Feriale replied.
The room then shimmered and it was like a certain dropped from the ceiling as the illusion of the woman Feriale was replaced by an over thirty foot dragon with a deep golden sheen, folded wings, and a long tail that filled a good portion of the room.
Shelia cleared her throat. “There is also the unfathomable possibility that something unspeakable may have befallen her.”
“Lady Shelia Greywand, while I have lost contact with Araminth, it does not mean she has passed to the afterlife. However, if the Rirorni have murdered my child, I will ensure every Rirorni burns, every living thing is put to the flame, and turn their entire nation to ash.”