The Ball Room [EVENT ROOM 1]

[Fae]

Ask away

Those two words were like a spell; one that opened a dark, swirling portal. I could not see beyond, but it promised so many things... even if safety was not one of them. What to ask? There was so much I wanted to know, so many thoughts and feelings swirled in my mind as we moved onto the dancefloor. Father had taught me to dance as a girl, twirling around the heart while mother stitched from her rocking chair, watching us.

To my relief, the memory of those steps had more or less remained, and I followed my partner as he led us through the steps. My heart raced, my cheeks flushed, as I was entirely swept away from myself. Before long, I had simply let go of my body, flowing and spinning, instinctively reacting to his movements and nudges. It was beautiful, in a way, like some deeper level of trust and balance than I was used to.

"Who are you?" Finally my question came out.

The simplest and most complicated question one could ask; not merely a request for a name, but to beseech the man for his very essence, his core, what made him... him.

Whether he chose to answer it as the simple request or the complex one, or indeed at all, was up to him.

We continued to dance, and I found it exhilirating and enthralling, an intoxicating ride... until he swept me into a dip... and whispered in my ear.

It was as though someone had speared the moment with a shard of ice, instantly freezing everything in its tracks. My gaze sharpened and snapped directly to his, my breath snatched away in a gasp and my heart suspended between beats. For a moment I said nothing, as he pulled me up again and we moved into a three step.

Then, came his question.

Why?

As we danced, I looked directly into his eye, my gaze solemn.

"Because I'm afraid."

Afraid of the church, afraid of the unknown, afraid to end up like father and mother, afraid to sully their memory or die away from my homeland... He was right, Salvar had made me her prisoner.

[Christoph]

Safe behind the dragon mask, the rogue sorcerer and Salvar’s most wanted criminal, Elijah Belov, talked to one of Salvar’s most dangerous men. A kindred spirit, in that one respect.

“I must say, Your Holiness has a fine grasp on the husbandry of bees,” said Belov, the dragon-masked sorcerer. The intricate scale patterns gleamed in the candlelight, colors ever-shifting like snow beneath the northern sunset.

“Yes, well, a proper man must be balanced in his education.” Michail Prevna shifted from one foot to the other, his otherwise impeccable poise and confidence thrown off-balance by Eli’s demeanor. One did not simply chat with the Lord Auditor as if he were another petty noble. Tasked with rooting out corruption in the kingdom and within the Ethereal Sway’s own ranks, he answered to the High Priest alone.

The man stood a head taller than the ‘dragon’ and wore robes of pale blue and silver that nearly touched the floor. His head was shaved and lined with many scars and wrinkles, reminding him of words of wisdom his first fencing instructor once shared. “Never underestimate a man who looks carved from granite.” His gaze was an icy flint, and so was his aura, revealed to Elijah’s magic sight, as bleak and cold as the Frozen Seas of Berevar. Unlike most of the other guests whose souls gently rippled and bubbled in shades of soft pastel, the Lord Auditor’s was a sharp blade.

Upon the agent’s face, a monocle rested on one eye. Few would recognize the prevaldia rim nor spot the tiny, intricate glyphs engraved into the delicate metal. Through the lens, the man no doubt scrutinized the ‘dragon’ in much the same way. Elijah’s years of training, plus the genius of his mask’s construction, would keep him safe from even a gaze enhanced by magic. He hoped.

“Wisely said, Lord Prevna.” Elijah inclined his head, the dragon mask shifting from green to gold as light shifted across its facets. His voice betrayed none of his unease.

“I confess, you have me at a disadvantage.” The Sway agent straightened, clasping his hands behind his back. “Have we met? What is your name?”

“That has become a matter of tantalizing speculation this evening, and I dare not spoil the guests’ fun just yet.” He spread his hands, as if to say ‘it can’t be helped,’ before pushing on before his new acquaintance could respond. “I know I’ve taken enough of your time, Your Holiness, but I wondered if I might ask a question on theology.”

The Lord Auditor’s eyebrows rose. “You have my attention. Let us hear--”

A crash, thunder. A flash of silver and a shower of pastries.

“Gods below!” The curse, uncharacteristic of the disciplined agent, escaped Michail’s lips. Chocolate crumbs and slick icing stuck to the man’s face. Cream and pastry flakes covered his once immaculate robes. Confusion turned to rage on his face, replaced swiftly by a cold, hard line across his mouth.

Elijah barely noticed the Lord Auditor. Behind his purple dragon mask, his eyes went wide. The girl responsible was getting up off the floor. She wore simple brown robes, like a temple acolyte from a poor village. Her hair, silver despite her youth. Were those… horns?

Yet, her physical features were soon forgotten as her aura filled Elijah’s vision like a sunrise. Untamed power churned within her. A feeling of something primal and ancient that only he could see. Except for… the sorcerer’s gaze snapped back to the Lord Auditor. The Sway agent cleaned smudged glaze from his monocle with a silk cloth.

“Pardon this disturbance, Lord Auditor,” said the Dragon, thinking fast. “This is my niece.” He grabbed her by the arm, eliciting a surprised squeak. “Forgive her clumsiness. I will see her reprimanded.”

Without another word, the dragon dragged the orphan girl out of the ballroom, to the courtyard. Perhaps realizing the danger, or perhaps too shocked to resist, the girl didn’t struggle. Once in the courtyard, Elijah took her behind a grand marble statue.

His heart was pounding. He looked hard at her, his words whispering through the dragon’s face like a distant thunder. “You stand out. You shine too bright to be here.” At last, he removed the mask to meet her gaze. “But you needn’t fear me.”

All the while, a voice scratched at the back of his mind. He felt like he knew this girl, but that was impossible.

The 'dragon' leaves the Ballroom and enters the Courtyard, bringing Azza. Bunny approved.