Frost 66th, 120
“Nardothis,” Aeraku remarked. “I saw it once, in a painting. I hear it is without equal in its capacity for research and practical training for mages.”
By Aeraku’s waist, a black wolf with blue eyes marched on, the bandages wrapped around her back signifying her status as no mere wild beast. This was Nuraku. “What do you think will go through their minds when we arrive and seek an audience from the local Veir?”
“Likely they would regard us with indifference. You, however... the many Runes upon your body should afford you some respect,” said Aeraku. “Our lack of understanding for Gentevarese may earn us some ire among the privileged whom may see us as peasants attempting to claw for power, but in the end none of that matters in Daravin, I’m told. All that matters is the Candor, and that does not apply to us yet, for we are not nobility.”
“Vesta mentioned this once,” said Nuraku. “The Candor. A manner of speaking, is it?”
“Sort of,” said Aeraku. “You could think of it as a battle of words and wit. The aim is to debase your rhetorical opponent while keeping an air of honor about you, I think... I honestly could not say for sure. I myself rarely dealt with the nobility of this land, but the few chances I had were met with ire. Hopefully a place meant for youth will be more forgiving, though even we will need to understand it, even as Valran--there will be many noble youth there who will judge us through that lens.”
“Who owns the local lands? That village, down in the valley?” Nuraku asked, the hazy image of scattered buildings visible through the trees.
“I’m not sure,” said Aeraku. “We are foreigners, but at least we are mages. They should at least see us on suspicion. We should bargain to become Valran--Daravin is very central. Whatever aims you may have, a position here will afford us many opportunities across Atharen. However, the cost would be great.”
“Cost?” asked Nuraku. “I have to admit, I’ve never been too keen on becoming a citizen here. I’ve never been treated well, and I imagine getting entrapped by their strings is less than favorable.”
Aeraku shrugged. “Valran are somewhat like servants. Not quite a slave, but expected to work for the Veir whom sponsors them. The local area is very focused on war and the like, so I expect that will be our main selling points, as mages. Myself, to assist in making weapons, and you, to fight.”
“I am reticent to fight in a war I am in no moral agreement with. The people here are not treated much better than the Dranoch treat their fodder in Sil-Elaine,” huffed Nuraku, limping slightly from the wounds she had sustained perhaps a week prior.”
“As you should be,” said Aeraku, touching his chin and looking up into the trees. “But, they will teach you, give you strength. Perhaps they can mold you into a warrior that can then shift her aims to a true cause she can make a difference in.” Shrugging, Aeraku attempted to frame it differently. “Think about it. Daravinic tactics are some of the best upon Atharen. Serving in the army would make you privy to such knowledge. They would teach you all you needed to know, and would assist you when you reach an impasse in your studies of arcana. You will then understand this place and how it operates, its weaknesses, and so on. If you truly served the revolution, as you say, they will need people who have fought in the ranks of Daravin to help such a fledgling nation stand upon its feet.”
Aeraku’s words were honeyed and correct. Nuraku believed him implicitly. “Aye, that makes perfect sense,” she said. “I just hope I don’t have to kill anyone who doesn’t deserve it to get there.”
The dog again shook his head. “If you play your hand correctly, you will be fighting any number of entities who are nearly as guilty as Daravin in their abuses of power. I say entities as even the gods step upon the smaller men and send them off to something as abhorrent as war.”
“How did someone so flippantly righteous become Blighted?” remarked Nuraku with a chuckle, but then she remembered what a sore point it was for the man, and fell silent. “I apologize,” she said.
Aeraku sighed. “Iiiit’s fine. You mean well. We are getting closer. Best keep our tongues off such subjects in case of spies--the ears of Daravin hear all, especially in a place so close to the border where wars are fought. I expect the noble of this place to be rather war focused in mind, so appeal to that.”
“I shall,” nodded Nuraku. “I still hope we come out of this with our lives... I am in no shape to fight.”
Straightening his back, Aeraku looked down to her as they walked. “Then let me do more of the talking. You have a very impolite tongue for this land.”
The dog had a point, and Nuraku sighed. This is going to be a disaster at best, she thought.
---
“Her excellency, Lady-Veir Amaranth Garamont will see you now,” professed the armored Valran guarding the hillfort for which his noble charge did reside. Aeraku and Nuraku both nodded to him, and followed inside. Within a pair of wide double doors was a long, lavish corridor lit by a swathe of green-twinged braziers. Lining the walls were old weapons of war, likely retired artifacts Nuraku presumed. The very floor was decorated with the visions of great battles, colored glass smoothed over and likely treated to shift in color as they walked, a dazzling display of opulence and grandeur.
The party was motioned to stand before a series of steps leading to a pair of thrones hewn from marble and then accentuated by a series of silver fronds and garlands. Above, a stained glass window depicting Ulen’s eyes shone upon them, casting a ray of light upon the place they were meant to stand, and again upon the pair of thrones.
Seated in one side of the throne was an athletic-looking woman with a bronzed headband, her skin coated in a layer of fine, white powder. Flowing, gilded robes of red and gold trailed from her chair, to the tips of her concealed toes, down to the steps below, and a floating orb of silvery white hovered by her side, likely a summoned spirit of some manner. In one hand, she wielded a fan, idly encouraging the air to flow against her face within the warm room--outside was the bitter cold, but here within these stone halls, the braziers kept the vast room sweltering.
“Ah, did you bring me new pets, Valran?” said the woman to her guard. No doubt she was aware of their foreign leaning, purposefully scathing them with a Common tongue. “Hm, hm, I would buy the dog, but the wolf is very much basic and rather ugly-looking covered in those bloody rags. I’m surprised you let her through the door.”
The pair were made to kneel, but Nuraku simply sat upon her hinds, curling a tail about herself. She hung her head in silence, and so did Aeraku. The lady and her Valran exchanged words in Gentavarese briefly, and then she raised her hand. “Four runes to the wolf, an animus mage? Is this true?” asked Lady Garamont. “And you, a scientist? Hmm.” Long, claw-tipped fingers emerged from the robe to scritch wearily upon her pale, white chin.
“...Yes,” said Aeraku, uncertain of how to proceed given the initial hostility.
“I seek to become a Halamire-Knight beneath the banner of House Garamont,” articulated Nuraku. “This is true--my runes are Animus, Summoning, Transposition, and Masquerade.”
“And which of these are you most skilled in?” questioned Lady Garamont.
“Animus, your excellency,” Nuraku replied. Her soul felt dimmed and weak from playing the part of a tamed animal beneath the woman’s gaze, but she knew this would open many doors for her and Aeraku, so she played the part.
“Then surely you would be able to change swiftly, at a minimum? Change your form in the blink of an eye, and I shall consider you worthy as candidates for becoming my Valran. Surviving four initiations can simply mean that you are dangerous, a risk-taker, so-to-say,” said Lady Garamont, her steely gaze falling upon the wolf. Aeraku remained respectfully silent as Nuraku was plied her test.
“Truthfully, I have no yet done so, but allow me to try,” confessed Nuraku. “Aeraku, my bandages?” She turned to the dog with a pleading glance.
Aeraku rose, and leaned in close to her ear. “Perhaps you must find a way to regulate the flow of Aether, to feed your form more and accelerate the process,” he whispered as he unwound the sticky fabric from her stinging wounds. Nuraku winced, bowing her head with a slight nod.
Nuraku considered briefly which form to take, deciding a raven would be the least repulsive. She held the form in her mind, inhaling as the noble watched with a most indignant gaze. “I haven’t got all day, dear,” said Lady Garamont, unsettling Nuraku further.
With a shaky exhale, Nuraku focused on her form, concentrating her mind around it. She ‘listened’ with her senses, getting a feel for how her form began to shift. The doubts in her mind began to lift once she felt the strands of aether running through her body as bones began to pop, skin shifting, fur bristling. Pulling upon them, she widened the river and found it rushing, her body jolting with pain. “Hrk!” Teeth gritting as they quickly shifted to a tightly-clenched beak, her limbs shifted near-instantly to wings as her body folded back in upon itself, shrinking down until she was a crumpled mess of feathers.
Righting herself, Nuraku stood a moment later and stretched out her wings. “I have done as you asked!” she wheezed, the pain she felt moments ago still clouding her mind with a haze.
The lady nodded, then centered her gaze upon Aeraku. “And you?”
“A mage of Transposition,” said Aeraku. “I have dabbled in three forms of World Magic and achieved a competency of sorts; I am a generalist, though I seek to specialize in perhaps Necromancy, or Etherforging, though Artifice is also a skill I possess.”
“Very well. Given the ability of your friend here, I shall believe you. What can you both bring to me as Valran?” she asked, somewhat convinced, if distant. She was at least entertaining the idea, it seemed.
“Well, Nuraku worked as a mercenary for many years. We were both orphans, and have followed difficult paths in life that we have survived. Our skills are many, and varied. I myself have the mind for arcana, and should you invest in me, I could bring great wealth and power to your House from the artifacts I create, or devise treatments for complicated wounds,” said Aeraku. “We seek an education at Nardothis.”
Nuraku nodded, extending a wing. “I am no coward; send me to war, and I will be your teeth, your talons, and your claws. Or allow me to fly, to reach remote places and exchange information. I am a warrior.”
“And why have you not yet taken a humanoid form in my presence, mage?” questioned the lady.
“It is the result of a Quirk. I may Imprint upon animals from any form, but the expense is that I may never access my original body. I am driven to learn more about Animus to make up for this weakness, and I am confident that this will give me a perspective other Animus mages perhaps do not have,” she said.
The woman tapped her throne. “And what of your loyalties? Where do your hearts lie, as they say?”
“Tyrclaid scorned us both as orphans,” said Aeraku. “We were once of the Bloodless Kin, but that may as well be another phrase for serf. As mages, we wish to rise above that station, as it is unbecoming of who and what we are. We wish to learn the ways of this country, and of Ulen. We may be crude, ill-refined, but we may learn and we shall be loyal to the Veir who sponsors us. We acknowledge your superiority, your wisdom, and your majesty. I promise my loyalty to you.”
“As do I,” added Nuraku.
“Very well,” said the woman. She rose from her throne, but only part-way. “Valran, bring me paperwork for these mages.” The man nodded, and turned to pop a key into a box tucked away into an alcove, opening it and retrieving a pair of paper slips pre-written by a scribe. He brought them to her with stamp, ink, and pen at the ready.
The lady looked over them both, then signed, even stamping the papers. “You will write your names. The dog may sign for you.”
Aeraku nodded graciously, taking the paper and signing upon the rigid piece of elegantly carved wood, flipping through to the next and signing Nuraku’s name in perfect form. He handed them back to the Valran, who turned away to quietly make a second copy for Lady Garamont’s keeping.
“As Valran, you will swear fealty to Daravin, and to House Garamont,” said Lady Garamont. “Pledge this to Ulen, our God, so that he may judge the truthfulness of your words.”
“I, Aeraku, do so pledge,” said Aeraku.
“I, Nuraku, do so pledge,” mimicked Nuraku shortly thereafter. “To Ulen.”
“To Ulen,” added Aeraku.
“As my Valran, you are ordered to attend Nardothis, where you must learn to be proper, and useful. I will see to it that you are given Grants, but I will not afford you the full expense of your education. You must work hard to earn your keep as my Valran, to prove your worth,” said Lady Garamont. “You are not to leave Daravin without orders, and you must write me a letter at any point I am superseded. My Valran are my ears. You are my ears.”
Aeraku and Nuraku both nodded.
“Citizens of Daravin, do not disappoint me,” said the woman, “and dog, come closer to me.”
Aeraku did as he was told, the woman beckoning him closer and closer, until he ascended the steps beside her robes. Still, she beckoned with a finger, until an arm rose from her finery and curled around his neck, anchoring him down in her lap. She squeezed him until he wheezed, her taloned fingers running through his fur.
Nuraku watched with a tilt of her head, pitying Aeraku as the man was subjected to the most egregious sin human and elven-kind had ever lavished upon the Rathor.
Petting.
As she played with his ears, Aeraku shut his eyes, being totally subservient to the humiliation. Her claws rubbed and scratched in all manner of pleasing, irritating ways, and once she released him, he rose quietly and shut his eyes lest he glare down upon her. “Am I dismissed?” he uttered, masking his embarrassment with a rasped tone.
“...Yes,” said Lady Garamont as she lifted her paper fan and giggled into it, offering him the back of her palm.
Aeraku seemed flustered. Frustrated. He was tense as he leaned in and gingerly kissed her hand. Rising, he said “I bid you adieu, Lady Garamont,” and then proceeded back down the steps with a rigid gait. He motioned to Nuraku.
“I bid you adieu, Lady Garamont,” she repeated, hopping up and flapping her wings before Aeraku caught her on his arm, bringing her up to his shoulder where she then perched. As they left, Aeraku was handed a pair of documents with their proof of citizenship, and he nodded with an utterance of thanks before he left.
“We leave immediately for Nardothis,” said Aeraku.
“That seems wise,” said Nuraku as they walked down the path leading away from the stronghold.
“Are you okay?” asked Nuraku.
Aeraku sighed quickly. “Yes,” he said in a voice that indicated he was very much so not fine.
