Most thought of the rumors as salacious gossip meant to inspire fear in humans and the Aelven bold enough to aid in their attempts at revolution, but Duriah’s haunted eyes and constant nightmares said otherwise.
Miri should have hated him, not only for whatever acts he may have commited but for what he represented. Instead, she offered him respite in the form of an alchemical recipe she created to wash away the night terrors of young humans she met during her apprenticeship.
This was a golden opportunity. She believed in the gods but never assumed they cared for her until that moment. Duriah’s drawn and panicked face before her was exactly the kind of opportunity she could sieze.
“I can increase the potency and heighten the hallucinogenic effects.” She said, allowing the last part of her sentence to trail off.
Duriah frowned, crossed his arms, and leaned back against the counter. While old, he wasn’t quite out of his mind yet, “And what will this cost me?”
Straight to the point. One of the things she could respect about him, “I have an engagement I need to attend over the next few days, and I won’t be able to return until next week.”
He scoffed, “You can’t expect me to keep the potions stocked for that long.”
Miri shrugged, “Find a temporary replacement. It shouldn’t be too hard if you ask through the Alchemist’s Guild, and there’s enough of the best sellers to last at least through the afternoon, which will give them time to brew up more.”
Duriah rubbed his chin. Miri hated it when he did that. It generally meant he was about to say something profoundly stupid. “How do you know I won’t replace you?”
She cocked her hip to the side and gave him a scathing look, “I never wrote that recipe down.”
Duriah laughed in response and she gave a small smile in kind. Her gut may have been tied in knots, but she knew he would go along with it as long as she returned. He raised his hands in surrender, “It appears you have the upper hand.” He sighed, “I don’t suppose I can ask you to create a small batch before you leave?”
Miri was unsure which toll last sounded through the morning air but remembered that Aisalan’s servant would not be coming to collect her until midday. “Alright.”
The old Aelv moved out of her way before turning to regard her again with curious eyes, “I don’t imagine this has something to do with your visitor yesterday.”
Miri quickly turned her back to him to begin rummaging through cabinets and drawers. She knew where everything she needed to create a small batch of Orpheum’s Sleep lay and was well aware that Duriah knew the same. That she sought to avoid his probing question was practically an admission of guilt.
But in the end, it was foolish of her to think he wouldn’t notice the timing of her excursion and connect the dots. He already knew the answer. He was asking her to confirm his suspicions. Duriah began speaking before she could think up a diplomatic reply.
“I don’t know what you’re about to do.” He said quietly, his voice holding a somber note she rarely heard from the older male when it came to her affairs, “But, guard yourself. The Progenitors and their courts are far more dangerous than any battlefield.”
That was the last thing she wanted to hear but she knew his words to be true. It was a knowledge that gnawed away at her as she attempted to sleep and weighed each step she took.
“I will be vigilant.” She replied finally, “Just keep an eye on Kyra for me.”
There was a momentary pause. Seconds of silence she wished were filled with far less tension than they were before Duriah’s response, “Of course.”
Miri considered asking him for guidance only to turn and find the space by the doorway empty. Duriah wasn’t the type for overly emotional displays. The sadness that seemed to cling to him could vanish from his face in an instant if one attempted a second glance.
She had not expected a warning or the look of deep concern in his eyes when he questioned her and she wondered just how treacherous the halls of the courts were if even an Iron Hand was wary of traveling them.
But now wasn’t the time to focus on the intricacies of Duriah’s emotional state. She set out her equipment, and by the time ten tolls rang out like death knells, she was once again sweaty and disheveled, having decided to stock up a few more potions before her departure.
She made her way to Kyra, propped up at the front counter and carefully studying a ring under a magnifying glass. The scent of aether filled the air, and Miri caught sight of the small glowing stone to Kyra’s side, wisps of cold smoke pouring out of it and tumbling over her hands.
The ability to control the essence that emanated from the Aelven realm into their own was one Miri was distinctly envious of.
“I hate disenchantment,” Kyra mumbled, and Miri couldn’t help but smile. She would miss her terribly while she was gone. They had hardly been separated for more than a few hours after cementing their friendship.
“I have to go.” She said, swallowing around the lump in her throat when Kyra’s eyes watered, and the other woman sharply nodded and dabbed at them with her apron. “Please don’t be like this. I’ll see you tonight, and I will only be gone for a few days. Duriah will look out for you.”
In a flash, the young woman had deposited the ring on the counter and dashed around it to pull Miri into a fierce hug. “I love you, you know,” Kyra whispered, her arms tightening around Miri’s back.
“I know. Watch the old codger and make sure he doesn’t work you too hard.” Miri stepped back, finding it difficult to leave her friends embrace to walk into the unknown. She couldn’t afford to draw this out. Staring into Kyra’s worried eyes any longer might cause her to have second thoughts.
She refused to look back as she stepped out into the street and focused on counting her footsteps towards the gates leading to The Hidden. She was numb as she responded to the guard questioning her entry, fatigue from a lack of sleep, leaving her too exhausted to remain on her toes.
“So, you’re a whore now, eh?” A mocking voice called from the side. A voice she recognized and hoped never to hear again. She didn’t know the guard’s name, but she knew enough to realize he was attempting to goad her. “Some noble let the gate master know to let you through without question.”
He approached, and Miri almost shrank back into herself. Without Kyra there to calm the situation, and already irritable and slightly disoriented, she was unsure of how to defuse the situation. She flinched as a large hand went to her braids and closed her eyes, choosing to remain silent.
“No sharp tongue today?” The scent of wine washed over her, “You seemed like such a spitfire.” His fingers crept to the nape of her neck and tightened, angling her face up to his as he moved in front of her, shoving the other guard out of the way, “Maybe I’ll get a turn when he’s done.”
Her eyes snapped open, and she was just as shocked as he was when a lob of saliva flew out of her mouth and landed on his face. Time stood still as his hand raised, and Miri thanked whatever gods were watching when the guard who was originally questioning her grabbed the raised limb.
“Enough, Savik!” The first guard reappeared in her field of vision, his lips twisted into a snarl. “We have our orders.”
Miri’s heart hammered in her chest, even as this Savik’s hand slipped out of her hair. His eyes, which were unusually cruel on the best day, were ablaze with fury at his inability to mete out a form of punishment onto the human woman in front of him.
His voice was low and shook with suppressed rage, “You won’t have the protection of whoever you’re fucking forever.”
The first guard said nothing more, waving her through without a word though she could tell she had done herself no favors with him either.
At that moment, The Hidden felt like a cage once again. The roads were lined with chipped and broken stone on the main thoroughfare before turning into gravel and dirt on some of the side streets. The sounds of the quarter pummeled her ears. Where the Convent contained its many perfumed and d
ecorated shops, the chaotic ensemble of The Hidden’s open market called out to her, begging her to abandon everything and escape into the world she knew.
By the time she arrived home, her body thrummed with nervous energy. She eyed the expensive bottle of Qist stored prominently on top of a cabinet. There was an old saying she could barely remember about Aelven bearing gifts, and as the swirling blue and green glass caught Sol’s light, she couldn’t help the feeling of foreboding that washed over her.
Miri meandered around their rooms until finally throwing herself on her bed. She probably had a few more hours until Aisalan’s servant would arrive. She would need rest to prepare for what was to come.
Miri
Sleep instantly swept her away, and the sharp bangs from the front room needed a few moments to break past her nearly unconscious state. Miri jumped to her feet and rushed to the front door, swinging it open to be greeted by the sight of two massive Aelven guardsmen and two Aelven females.
The first appeared to be the servant she was expecting. Dressed in a simple yet elegant, tunic, and trousers, it was obvious she played a role of function in someone’s grand household. But the female next to the first seemed entirely out of place in The Hidden. Stately and supremely overdressed, a gown of elegant green brocade matched the glittering gem-studded comb lodged into a perfectly coiffed mass of silver-white hair.
Miri swallowed but couldn’t find the right words to say.
“Are you Miri Third-Born?” The younger female asked.
Miri swallowed and nodded before taking a step back. She knew she had to look like a complete idiot, but the reality of the situation finally caught up with her, rendering her mute.
“We are in the company of Lady Pyrin Vinhar.” The younger Aleven female said softly, her hand waving in the direction of the older female, “And I am Lyrei Aradan, maidservant and seamstress.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you.” Miri replied as she dropped into a short curtsy. She turned to scan the room before rushing to grab her coin purse and fasten it to her belt. “We can leave whenever you’re ready.”
Lyrei’s head dipped in agreement, and she signaled for the guards to lead them out. Miri couldn’t help feeling completely out of place, especially as they approached a large covered litter surrounded by even more guards and the thick scent of aether.
“Are we...” Miri began but stopped herself as Lady Vinhar took an offered hand to step up and inside. Lyrei followed, and finally, Miri’s own hand was grasped as she took her first steps into a world of unimaginable luxury. Two benches sat opposite each other, their tops and backs covered in the softest pillows while thick white curtains surrounded them offering privacy. Lyrei pushed the curtains over the small windows opposite the entrance of the litter open once one of the guards secured the door on the other side.
It wasn’t the best view, but Miri had certainly never ridden in a litter before. Only the fabulously wealthy of the city were capable of arranging such transport. The Vinhar’s had to represent some of the highest of Aleven society; one of the establishing Progenitor lines of the Aelven Dominion or a family who had done a lot for the empire.
She let out an undignified squeak when their mode of transportation rumbled and then lifted into the air. Her grip tightened on the bench as the litter began floating forward; a smooth, eerie, motion that Miri did not trust.
“It takes a while to get used to,” Lyrei said softly.
“Lyrei refused to even ride in one when she began working for us.” Lady Vinhar added, her hand moving to Lyrei’s to give it a gentle squeeze. Miri never spent much time absorbing the behaviors of humanity’s conquerors, but she could tell there was a friendly familiarity between the two of them; lady and maidservant.
A sour taste began to form on her tongue. It didn’t matter how nice this female was to her servant. They were still invaders and interlopers. Creatures who took the vulnerability and primitiveness of humans as a sign of inferiority and usurped human civilization to place themselves firmly as its leaders.
The smile she offered was wan as she replied, “It’s only for a few days, so I doubt I’ll have the opportunity.”
The silence that followed was punctuated by the steady rhythm of boots against the pavement and, no longer hearing the sound of rocks crunching underfoot, Miri assumed they were already in the Convent. No stops or questions asked.
She had occupied the human quarter of the city for years, often seeing the same faces among the guards who chose to make protecting the city, and the Dominion, their career. Despite this, she always faced the same scrutiny when entering or leaving through those gates, the same demands for compliance. These Aelven females had probably never even been to The Hidden before and were waved through without so much as a ‘Please’ or ‘Thank You.’ It was more than a slap in the face.
Lady Vinhar was the first to break the oppressive quiet, “My son certainly made a perfect choice for this endeavor. I highly doubt you’ll be swooning into his arms or asking for children any time soon.”
Miri couldn’t help the look of disgust that passed over her face and was surprised when Lyrei let out a sharp laugh before quickly covering her mouth with a hand and dropping her head.
“My apologies.” Miri grimaced, “It’s just that I barely know him and-”
Lady Vinhar raised her hand, clearly not offended, her eyes dancing with hidden mirth, “I don’t blame you, my dear. I know my son’s arrogance far better than you. I’m sure.”
Miri relaxed a bit into her seat, “I have to admit I am a bit surprised to be meeting you.” Her fingers twirled around the leather tails of her belt, “Aisalan said he was only sending a servant.”
Pyrin nodded, “I thought it might help ease your mind if you had an idea of what would be required of you during these negotiations.”
Miri flushed. She already had a pretty good idea of what he expected of her. Aisalan had made that abundantly clear during their dinner. She got the sense, however, that Lady Vinhar wasn’t talking about affairs of the bedroom. “Is there some protocol I need to follow?”
“There’s much you need to know, but I fear our time together will not be enough to prepare you.” Lady Vinhar replied right as a call to halt rang out. Miri took a deep breath and gnawed on her bottom lip. She was actually doing this. Once she stepped into whichever shop Lady Vinhar and Lyrei were taking her to she’d be counted among the many who traded in flesh for favors from the Aelven.
She wanted to scream at the unfairness of it all, but both Aelven females had been kind to her so far. She had heard horror stories of their vindictiveness and casual cruelty, how their unmatched beauty often made them jealous and exceedingly vain. She avoided them as much as the males, and now, she needed two of them to not only help her dress but instill in her the cultured virtues required to navigate a diplomatic function.
This was insane. She was insane. But she was only a few short days away from reaching heights few humans of The Hidden could ever hope for. It was with this knowledge she used to steel herself as she was guided out of the litter and into the dress shop.
Chapter Six
Miri
“Pyrin! My love!”
Miri was on the verge of hyperventilating. The shop’s interior was far nicer than any place she usually ventured to though she couldn’t even remember the last time she went to a shop for clothes. Their desire to be frugal to save up for shop space meant most of her and Kyra’s garments were donations from the temple.
Her poverty had never really made her feel uncomfortable before, but standing there as an exuberant Aelven male gushed over Lady Vinhar’s latest jeweled comb and admonished her for staying away so long, placed her own circumstances in a much more pitiably light.
“I just knew this green brocade would be a splendid addition to your wardrobe.” He continued. He was a flurry of emotion and chatter, and Miri could only follow along dumbly as they were led to a small seating area. Silver trays loaded with cheeses and fruits were laid o
ut on the low table in front of them accompanied by small glasses of honey wine.
“And who is this lovely vision?” The tailor’s attention turned to her, and before Miri could respond, Lady Vinhar answered instead.
“Miri Third-Born.” Spoken as if she were just another acquaintance and not a casteless human woman prostituting herself for a trade permit. “She’ll be attending an event with Aisalan, and we need her to look her absolute best. I could trust no one but you with that task. Miri, this is Lim Yeslen, one of the most talented dressmakers in the region.”
Lim approached her slowly, his eyes holding a shred of what Miri could only translate as intense curiosity, “She has very odd coloring.”
Miri scowled, “My coloring is fine.” She had no idea if he was titled, but she wouldn’t take such an insult lightly from anyone, noble born or not. Her Hearth Mistresses made it abundantly clear how some Aelven viewed human diversity. With an array of hair and eye colors, and skin tones, the Aelven long took the wide range of their appearance as another sign of their chaotic natures; discord etched into their biology like a brand.
He could think whatever he wanted about her, but he would learn to keep his comments to himself. His eyes widened a fraction, but he quickly recovered and raised his hands to calm her, “My apologies. I’m sure that seemed quite rude.”
“It was quite rude.” Miri corrected. If he thought he would be able to maneuver out of the confrontation by implying the offense was caused by her perception, he was in for a harsh awakening. Out of the corner of her eye she caught sight of Lady Vinhar raising her glass to cover the small smile on her lips.
He bowed his head then before turning back to Pyrin, “I daresay Pyrin, a spitting image.” He stepped back from her and tilted his head to the side, “Jewel tones would be best. She’ll be splendid.”
An Ignoble Invitation- the Aelven Dominion Page 5