An Ignoble Invitation- the Aelven Dominion

by Dani Morrison

  An Ignoble Invitation

  Dani Morrison

  Copyright © 2019 by Dani Morrison

  All rights reserved.

  No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any electronic or mechanical means, including information storage and retrieval systems, without written permission from the author, except for the use of brief quotations in a book review.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Chapter 2

  Chapter 3

  Chapter 4

  Chapter 5

  Chapter 6

  Chapter 7

  Chapter 8

  Chapter 9

  Chapter 10

  Chapter 11

  Chapter 12

  Chapter 13

  Chapter 14

  Chapter 15

  Chapter 16

  Chapter 17

  Chapter 18

  Epilogue

  Chapter One

  Miri

  “Are you sure we’re in the right place?” Miri blew a stray hair away from her face and frowned at the imposing door in front of her. Kyra was her dearest friend, and she would do anything for her, but as they stood in front of the Tribunal Hall with research and proposals in hand, she began to worry if maybe her ideas surrounding loyalty needed a rethink.

  As it stood, they were two women with a mission and determination, but with none of the clout of the Progenitors to back them up.

  “I’m positive.” Kyra’s hesitant swallow did nothing to comfort Miri’s disposition. “We have an appointment. We need to walk in and-”

  “Can I help you?”

  For a second, both women froze before Miri turned to address whoever interrupted their purposeful stalling. Her eyes widened when she took in the Aelven male that stood a few paces away from them. Tall, lean, and impeccably dressed, he cut a dashing if severe figure. She wondered how he managed to get the drop on them.

  “We’re here to see the High Administrator about-” Miri began to reply.

  “And we have an appointment!” As if all of her synapses fired at once, Kyra turned and held their appointment acceptance letter aloft. An aloof gaze assessed both of them, sweeping over them from head to toe, before finally reconnecting with Miri’s own.

  “The door is unlocked.” He stepped around them and pulled it open in demonstration while giving a slight bow and waving them in to enter. “I can take you to his chambers.”

  “Oh. Thank you.” Miri flushed and nudged Kyra with her elbow before wrapping a hand around her friend’s arm and pulling her along. They followed in silence, surrounded only by the murmuring of soft voices behind cracked doors and the footsteps of harried messengers passing by. A heavy scent reminiscent of fresh air and salt spray assaulted her nostrils, the scent of aether.

  The Tribunal Hall was a massive statement to the power held within its walls. Magic seeped from the polished stones and thrummed under every lock and lamp. It was the place where all members of the council, the Progenitors, and their entourages converged to handle matters of state, right down to measly requests for a trade permit.

  Everything was tightly controlled, a testament to order, save the two human females looking to open a shop in the Convent. This was going to be a hard sell.

  Both were from the lower caste, orphaned by the communal system that separated children from parents at a young age. To the Aelven, this was one of the more effective methods of controlling the worst aspects of human nature. Names are powerful things, bearers of pride, starters of wars, bringers of petty squabbles, and impulsive curses. The creation of the casteless, humans raised by Aelven Hearth Mistresses, was believed to instill a sense of community in Vultayvi, the human world’s, inhabitants.

  Pegged as “shop girls” at best and shunted off to apprenticeships, fate and good fortune bound Miri and Kyra together at The Magistra, a well-known haunt for the stronghold’s mages, Aelven and human alike. Anyone interested in conjuration knew where to obtain that necessary ingredient or rare book.

  Now, they wanted to strike out on their own and take a name for themselves.

  Unfortunately, there was very little wiggle room for the nameless.

  Miri’s anxiety spiked with each forward step, and after another turn down a long corridor, both women stood slightly dazed before a new set of doors.

  The Aelven male turned to them, his hand resting on the door’s handle. “Forgive my lack of manners. I am Aisalan Vinhar. And you are?”

  Kyra piped in first, “I’m Kyra First-Born, and this is Miri Third-Born.” The introduction of the casteless. By birth order.

  “Of strong mothers, no doubt. I will announce you. Just hold on a moment.”

  Both women nodded and watched him slip into the room, leaving the door ajar behind him.

  “He's being nice.” Kyra said.

  “For an Aelv.” Miri replied in a harsh whisper.

  “Miri!”

  “What?”

  His return was swift, and both women straightened, presenting themselves in the best way possible to, who they imagined, held the key to their futures. Squaring her shoulders and tipping her chin into the air, Miri took the first steps forward and wasn’t surprised to feel Kyra pressed against her side.

  If the point of the interior of the room was to make an individual feel intimidated, they certainly made the right choice in decoration. The wizened figure staring at them with cold indifference seemed dwarfed by the plush, opulent, furniture surrounding him. His desk alone large enough to accommodate at least five people around it comfortably.

  He did not offer them a seat, nor did he speak first.

  “Your excellency, we’re here to obtain a permit to open a shop in the Convent.” Miri said.

  “I am aware. It appears, however, that you have arrived unprepared.” He replied, skepticism lacing every word.

  A few moments of tense silence followed as Miri shuffled through her mind to determine what they could have missed.

  Kyra spoke first, “Sir, we have prepared the necessary trade plans and character references from our employer.”

  “Have you brought your letter of formal introduction?”

  “I’m sorry, I don’t-” Kyra stammered.

  “All individuals seeking to begin conducting business must be formally introduced by either a Progenitor or a representative of their household.”

  Miri’s eyes became narrow slits, and her jaw tightened. They had done extensive research into everything that would be needed for their petition, and nothing in any of their reading even hinted at such an archaic practice.

  A slim hand beckoned them to move forward and remained aloft, silently gesturing for them to hand over the leaves they had carefully written over months to as close to perfection as they could muster. Kyra’s hand trembled as she gently placed them in his waiting palm, and the tense silence that followed was punctuated only by the soft turning of pages while his eyes perused their offering.

  The tension only increased as Miri took in the full weight of their decision. If they somehow managed to receive the approval they would be dealing with this kind of behavior all the time. Most of the tax collectors, money lenders, and suppliers in the stronghold were Aelven or humans of distinction. Many of them would view two casteless human women as curious anomalies at best and possible scammers at worst.

  She observed Kyra out of the corner of her eye and could tell the younger woman was slowly watching their dream crumble away. Try as she might, Kyra couldn’t control the sheen of unshed tears in her eyes, and while her breathing was slow, it quivered in her throat, coming out in hushed puffs.

  Miri would never give them that kind of satisfa
ction, but Kyra had always been the more sensitive of the two of them, a trait that had her heart broken more than once by the actions of those around them.

  “Your references are impeccable, and your petition is sound.”

  Kyra gasped and turned to Miri with her mouth agape. Miri shook her head and nodded toward the older Aelv, reminding her friend that they weren’t out of the woods yet.

  “Were you to bring this along with a letter of formal introduction, it would be foolish not to accept your proposal.”

  And she was right. A temporary moment of hope dashed on the rocks as quickly as it had come into existence. At this, Miri lost her patience.

  “With all due respect, we went over the Registrar’s scrolls for months, and a letter of introduction was never mentioned as a requirement. You said yourself our plans are sound. How can you sit there and pretend as if this is based on a technicality and not your desire to put an obstacle in the way of a few nameless humans?”

  Kyra’s hands flew to her mouth, and Miri scowled at her in response. This male who held their fate in his hands knew very well they had no ties to a Progenitor. Otherwise, they would have included character references from the head of their household. They would bear the name of a distinguished line. He was sending them on a fool’s errand, slamming the door in their face with the faux politeness Miri had long come to expect from the Aelven in general.

  The magistrate’s face went from one of casual indifference to willful spite in an instant, “Was I interested in creating obstacles, I would have denied your appointment altogether. You come before me with handwritten documents and no citizens of note to speak well of you. I think you overestimate your station.”

  Miri remained silent, her suspicions confirmed. This was just a novelty to him. He desired to see the humans who possessed this much audacity.

  It was Kyra who finally stepped forward to collect the papers now stacked and neatly placed at the edge of his desk. Miri felt a pang of guilt, as the rejection was likely hitting her friend much deeper than herself. If she was barely holding back before, it had to be a massive amount of control that kept her from full-on weeping now.

  She pressed a hand discreetly to her friend’s back and looked back to the High Administrator. “If we can provide a letter of formal introduction, will you approve?”

  “If you can procure one, I will reconsider it.”

  Before Miri could follow up with any other questions, Kyra curtsied and replied, “Thank you for your time your excellency.” and not waiting for his response, she turned and headed toward the door. Miri could only hold the old Aelv’s eye for a moment before she followed and shut it firmly behind her.

  They were no sooner outside of the Tribunal Hall when Kyra whirled around, her face streaked with tears and eyes puffy. “You couldn’t hold your tongue for only a moment?”

  Initially shocked by the verbal assault, Miri gathered herself, “He was never going to say yes.”

  “You don’t know that!”

  Miri groaned and rubbed her temples with her fingers, “Consider this Kyra. When he received our initial petition through the Registrar, do you think he didn’t notice that we are casteless? Do you honestly believe he agreed to meet with us in good faith? He knew we wouldn’t be able to produce this letter of introduction before he even met us.”

  “You didn’t have to antagonize him. He might have been willing to assist us if we had explained our situation.”

  By then, they had crossed the magnificent courtyard bursting with color and ever-blooming flowers, magically enhanced to remain at their most fragrant. On a brighter day, Miri could imagine it was a beautiful sight, but it seemed luck was not with them, as a threatening tumble of gray clouds currently blocked Sol’s rays.

  “He knew about our situation. They all do.” A fat droplet splashed against the tip of her nose, and she let out a deep sigh. “We should get back.”

  A gentle sniffle drew Miri’s attention, and she was quick to wrap her arms around her grieving friend, little caring whether some administrator wandered by or watched from an open window. They both had placed so much of their faith and energy into pooling their gold and pulling everything together. Even convincing their employer for character references had been difficult as, if either woman ever were caught in a scandal, he could be called to make amends.

  The walk back to their domicile was a somber one, neither woman knowing what to say in such a low moment. They would return to The Magistra the next day, not with news of their impending departure but with a solemn hymn of defeat.

  “Why don’t we stop by one of the eateries in the Convent?” Miri’s shoulder knocked gently into Kyra’s, and the younger girl gave a weak smile before shaking her head.

  “We can’t afford it.”

  Miri rolled her eyes before tucking her hand into the crook of Kyra’s arm. “I know, but still...”

  Ahead of them, the gateway to the Convent loomed, carved out of beautiful marble, on one side a human stood, holding in front of him an Orb of Eliathaeas to herald the dominance of the Aelven realm. On the other side, an Aelven male stood with his own orb aloft. Enchanted vines, ripe with roses in various shades of red, trailed over the wrought iron that formed the main gate itself, conveniently covering the spikes that lined the top.

  It was a beautiful and imposing reminder of the dual nature of the city. The surface, the veneer of gentility, needed only to be gently brushed aside to reveal the true ugliness that lay beneath.

  Passing through these gates not only led to the most beautiful section of the city, where the wealthy shopped and lived their lives, but as a reminder of how different a life could be purely based on the happenstance of birth.

  Miri hated it as much as she loved it. The Myrenden stronghold was her home.

  “Tomorrow, we go back to being just a couple of shop girls but for tonight? Let’s pretend our dreams came true, eh?”

  The drizzle seemed to refresh Kyra’s spirits, temporarily and Miri laughed as her friend tugged her towards one of the eateries that lined the streets. They weren’t dressed necessarily for cavorting among the Convent’s residents, but their money spent just the same, no matter how little of it they possessed.

  The hostess gave them a once over, taking in their worn working-class attire before leading them to a seat close to the kitchens. Miri was used to this. In their quarter, nicknamed The Hidden, they were both well known. They would have been greeted with warmth and kindness, an inquiry into their day, perhaps a free spot of Qist the Aelven spirit famous for knocking even the stoutest man on his rear.

  Instead, they found themselves squashed between a dividing wall and the sounds of kitchen workers barking commands and clattering pots and pans. It was as noisy as it was humiliating.

  Miri peered through the open space in the wall that gave a view toward the rest of the dining room. It was small mercy afforded the lessers of society. If they got to see how polite society behaved, perhaps one day, they would cultivate the manners necessary to fit in, to be accepted by a Progenitor’s family line, and wear fine linens and gems.

  “You’re ruminating.” Kyra murmured, “And stop staring. You’re going to draw attention.”

  Miri snorted and snatched the oily napkin off of the table to fling it over her lap, “I doubt they even realize we’re back here.” She flipped her long braids over her shoulder but immediately wished she hadn’t since doing so left her nothing to fiddle with under the onslaught of anxiety.

  The waitress was curt as she took their order and barely let them finish their sentences before scurrying off.

  “We can be glad they let us in at least.” Kyra said, resting her cheek against her fist.

  Miri detested what their reality did to the younger woman. She grew up in a colony on the outskirts of society. She knew little of the Aelven besides the females who raised and tutored her, but their instruction was based more on practical skills than a never ending list of social graces.

  Kyra, however,
was raised within a stronghold. From the moment she was separated from her mother at birth, she was deposited into the waiting arms of a Hearth Mistress to be raised with proper manners, ever mindful of her ‘place.’ It left her deferential, fearful of their wrath, and decidedly good-natured in the face of the way she was treated.

  Miri knew she crossed a line snapping at the High Administrator, but the wilds would never be taken out of her. She knew what fairness was, even if the Aelven did not.

  Their meals and the bill were dumped unceremoniously in front of them. Eat fast, pay, and leave. Those were the rules, and considering how frazzled Kyra already was, Miri had no problem following them tonight.

  “So how are we going to get that letter of introduction?” Miri asked, more to herself than her comrade.

  “You know we don’t know anyone.” Kyra mumbled around a bite of stew, “He pretty much denied us without having to say no directly.”

  Miri exhaled and rolled her head around her neck to loosen the tension in her muscles, “Well, there has to be some way, right?” She looked back out to the main dining room, “Everyone in there isn’t from some highborn Aelven family.”

  “Maybe one of us could marry into a Progenitor’s line,” Kyra said, her tone dripping with a sarcasm Miri was not used to hearing. Both women spent a second looking at each other before laughing. With a lack of connections, let alone a name, the best they both could hope for was another human male who would be willing to commit despite never seeing his seed bear fruit.

  No. That wasn’t a viable solution and Miri was grateful for it. Surviving on her own was more than enough. She didn’t want to have to care for anyone besides Kyra, who was perfectly capable of looking out for herself.