Let Them Sing
EXP: 155,108, Level: 17
Level completed: 18%,
EXP required for next Level: 14,892
Dawn’s orange glow poured out across the shimmering seas that lay beyond the piers and fishing boats. The sky was blood red, and the furrowed clouds drifted without urgency as they turned every shade from palest pink to deep crimson. Shinsou, wrapped in a bed robe, watched the daybreak from his surgery window, his golden eyes following the motions of a small flock of birds that danced upon the morning light. Every now and then they would climb steeply to meet the rising dome of the sun, before banking sharply and diving back towards the horizon again. The Telgradian wondered, as he watched the birds in motion, if everything would work itself out. What would happen next, in this fragile peace? When would that bastard Arius next show his face? What would he do with himself once he had healed?
Shinsou sighed, and turned away from the sill as the flock performed their coup de grace, an upward loop and a final dive into the treelines that lined the town entrance. In his room hung a set of clothes on a single iron hanger, and he limped across the cold floor towards them, curious. They had been there for a number of days but he hadn’t paid them any heed, until now.
Article by article, the Telgradian lay the clothes down on the bed, and smiled. He recognised them almost instantly. The first piece was a standard black undershirt and pants, nothing particularly fancy. The next items were slightly more glitzy; a white greatcoat with silver lining embroidered into the sleeves, all the way up to the shoulders and along the back of the collar. A silver sash was tied around and through the belt loop on the coat, which had silver buttons dotted up the front. Finally, there seemed to be a pair of gloves; made from silk, coloured white and finished around the cuffs with a simple gold trim. Shinsou pulled on the pants and the undershirt, before threading his arms through the sleeves of the coat. He tied the sash around the waist, and laced his boots, before finally pulling on the gloves. He stood, dressed at last, in front of a body length mirror.
“They suit you.â€
The voice startled him. Shinsou spun awkwardly to meet Raine standing in his doorway, a breakfast tray in her hands.
“Oh, is this your doing then? Where did you find these?†the Telgradian asked, a mote of mock incredulity present in his tone. He thumbed the flaps of the coat whilst the Quintet placed the tray of fruit and bread down on a bedside table.
“Screwed up in a dusty old chest under the bed. I was looking for something decent for you to wear after changing your bandages,†Raine said, flicking a strand of loose hair from her face, “so I cleaned them up and made some adjustments. Do they fit?â€
Shinsou looked bemused. “Yeah, perfectly. I just didn’t know linen duty and snooping under my bed were on your list of your official Quint responsibilities.â€
Raine turned her head a little, and flashed a grin. “Call it a complimentary service. I don’t want you looking like a tramp in front of Philomel; it reflects badly on me. Plus, it’s nice to see you out of those horrible Brotherhood colours.â€
The room fell silent as Raine set about tidying up, leaving Shinsou contemplating her comment. Whilst probably not intentional, the Telgradian couldn’t help but feel the last words were a barb; a subtle dig to remind him that no matter how well he and his new charge were getting along, there was always going to be an ideological chasm between them that no amount of polite conversation was ever going to bridge. He, no matter his penance or intent, was still Brotherhood, and she, like everyone else, was always going to associate him with the very worst of the human condition whilst he was.
The morning meandered on, sun rising higher into the blue sky and drenching Corone in un-tempered brilliance. Still struggling with the aching in his chest, Shinsou ate sparingly from the breakfast platter and drank only water, carefully observing as Raine busied herself with preparations for the faun’s arrival. Once, twice, the Telgradian watched her through the window check and re-check the town square’s perimeter, with both Brotherhood and Assembly officials in tow. The Quint was careful and thorough in everything she did, ensuring that the proper security was in place and that all checkpoints were manned according to the letter of the law. In a shared administration such as this, after all, it was all too easy for one side or the other to step on toes, or tread on egos.
By the time the last of breakfast had been finished and everyone had taken their positions in the square, the sun had almost reached its midday zenith. Bright light cast uneven shadows on Tylmerande, but the searing heat that accompanied summer’s arrival didn’t seem to affect those assembled. Shinsou’s mind instead pondered on what he would say to the Faun, when the sudden familiar tingle in his stomach cut through his reverie.
That’s her and Delath alright. Probably the Quint too, judging by the other powers.
Slowly, Shinsou looked up, staring down the long road into the tree line that marked the perimeter of the town, and those who knew him best knew to stare with him. Over the background commotion of the day to day business of Tylmerande, a deep growl accompanied the familiar staccato thudding of powerful dragon legs in the distance. Sure enough, Delath the dragon emerged from the forest flanked by outriders, whom the Telgradian instantly recognised as the Gilded Quint guard, carrying the armour clad Faun between dark raven-like folded scales on his back. Perhaps the most dangerous of Philomel’s familiars, Delath had may not of had the intelligence of the Faun’s ever present fox spirit Veridian, but what he lacked in relative intellect he more than made up for in pure power. Indeed, the dragon had been the instrument of the Brotherhood siege engine’s demise, and as he came to a skidding halt a few metres away from the Telgradian, he bore a row of sharp canine teeth to make a point.
Yeah, I get it. You’re pissed at me. Get in line, pal.
The Telgradian stood there, calm, unfazed by the sustained snarling from the beast that had wrought chaos and havoc amongst the Brotherhood ranks, and looked up to Philomel van der Aart. He met her fearsome gaze with a slight smile as she dismounted and walked alongside, and then finally in front, of her mount.
“Looks like you've all recovered well, Philomel,†The Telgradian started, gesturing generally at her entourage, before looking back at his own. “I'm glad. You already know Raine, but these other gentlemen besides me represent the interests of the shared administration of Tylmerande; Brotherhood and Assembly commissioned alike. They will take care of any needs; food, water, anything you want. Now…â€
Shinsou turned to face the tallest building in the port town, the administrative complex, and held out an inviting hand.
“...I imagine we have a hell of a lot to talk about.â€