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Fateful Adventures

Chapter 4: The Big City

As always: sofurry murders formatting. Read the original formatting! (but remember to come back!) https://docs.google.com/document/d/1pbtRuXMgah9Gyss1dqPMTpqlflH6LHf2p_PMuyyJyDM/edit?usp=sharing

In an instant, the world materialized around the two as quick as it’d vanished, an infinitesimal fraction of time, and yet---he felt the pull of the void as they were shunted through the tear in reality. He swore he could see the all-seeing orange eye briefly glancing at him, laughing at him, mocking him in that instant. He let out a small squeak of fear, clutching her tight.

“You really don’t like teleportation, do you?” Helena noted, wrapping him in her robe protectively. He couldn’t bear to tell her the real reason, not yet. That was his alone to deal with.

“Scary…” he simply whimpered, but peeked out of the robe curiously.

The room they were in was large, impossibly large. Beautiful white marble with cloudy gray streaks covered every surface including the floor, the very symbol of opulence and craftsmanship of the highest fashion. Gold inlays accented the tops and bottoms of pillars, the cracks between large tiles, and the arches of the ceiling. The area they were standing was a raised dais, itself upon another raised dais like a pair of circular stairs. Under their feet was the most beautiful circular inlay he’d ever seen; more gold filling with multicolored precious gems carved precisely in the form of the same runes he’d seen mother drawing on her floor, a permanent and extravagant magic circle with an entire space dedicated to it, sparkling in magnificent rainbow illumination from the light above. Which, naturally, caused him to look above. A massive crystal, suspended in the air of its own accord with no apparent housing, shining radiantly in a silver light that bathed the entire room in splendor.

“Well that’s a bit much,” Helena commented dryly. Ash’ton, however, had metaphorical stars in his eyes.

“It’s so pretty…” he breathed softly, looking around. Helena seemed to relax her expression and give a genuine smile.

“I suppose it is rather beautiful… let’s get somewhere safe.” Implying that this was not a safe place, he thought with a hint of suspicion.

“Welcome to Ele’therin,” a monotonous, almost bored voice called from across the empty space, the sound bouncing off to the walls creating an eerie echo. Helena walked in the direction of the voice as it was the only exit out of the curated teleportation room. On each side of the large stone archway hung white banners with gold trim to match the marble scenery that spanned from roof to floor. Emblazoned on the banners was the symbol of the King, the same one from Goldenleaf; the red head of a wolf. The voice had come from a scrawny looking cheetah of a man with bent whiskers, glasses, and a disheveled look about him. He was also clad in white robes with the red wolf symbol.

“Name, reason, and length of stay please,” he commented as they approached his desk which sat to the side of the exit-archway. Ash’ton blanched as he caught sight of two large metallic constructs guarding either side of the door, unmoving as of now, but far taller than Helena. They too were painted white with gold accents, and the standard red wolf logo on the chest. In one hand they grasped massive spears, standing with the spears crossed over the exit. They looked intimidating, as if they might come alive at any moment and spear them both.

“Bree Cooper,” she rattled off, not even looking at him.

“And the little one? Hey!” he yelled after her as she passed.

“Heath Cooper,” she retorted.

“What about the other stuff!” he called out as she passed under the spears without a sweat. They seemed not to even react.

“The King knows to expect me.”

“Fecking pompous ass pieces of-” he heard the cheetah man swear, and after a few choice words under his breath, “...MAGES!!” he yelled loud enough for them to hear, even as they passed into the grand library. Ash’ton couldn’t help but giggle, even if he did feel sorry for the man, just doing his job.

And what a grand library it was. Ash’ton had thought Helena’s book collection was impressive… this library seemed to be as big as her entire property, maybe more. Flying arches towered all the way to a domed ceiling, with several floors each with rows of books as tall as the eye could see. Another gleaming gem sat in the middle of the room, as books zoomed around on their own, returning where they belonged or hurrying to the destination they'd been summoned. Several people were milling about, either perusing the books or talking among themselves in quiet corners and hidden rows. A circular wooden desk sat in the middle, with two clerks tending the station; a rather fluffy looking owl (the first bird he'd seen!) and a sleek, dashing looking corvid… the second bird he'd seen!

“Welcome to the grand library of Ele’therin,” came the buttery voice of the owl as they passed by. “May I help you find anything, madam?” Helena held up a paw politely to indicate that she was on business and needed no assistance. “Very well,” he answered, “please do enjoy your stay. Tas’sarion guide you.” She paused for a moment, glancing to the side as if caught up by something, but then continued, right through another arch with another pair of constructs.

The central plaza was… Ash’ton was running out of ways to say grand, impressive, amazing, opulent as every new development was even more breathtaking than the last. The atrium soared to spectacular heights, boasting a fountain in the middle with a stone rendition of a man, a wolf man, crown upon his head, resplendent armor and a flowing cape, arm thrust forward to welcome all who would gaze upon it as the other held a large hammer meant for one thing; war. Familiarity and welcoming in one gesture, safety and discipline in the other, he thought. Waterspouts on the outside arched inward, drawing the eye to the whole affair. Exotic trees and shrubs lined islands set in the open floor spaces, doubling as benches for those that wished to have a rest. In the middle, past the fountain, was a large central staircase, it too (as everything up to this point had been) crafted from white marble with gold trim on each step, climbing halfway up the height of the room before ending in a tall double door that spanned to the height of the atrium, this time lined by living guards.

“Bit much…” Helena commented again, though it seemed a little less sarcastic. “But impressive, I suppose.” Maybe she’d seen endless kingdoms each more extravagant than the last, but to Ash’ton, this was all so new, and the best thing he’d seen both in this life and whatever had come before, he was sure of it. He opened his muzzle to reply, but remembered what she’s warned about before traveling, and went silent, a bit disappointed.

“It’s okay,” she whispered, “it’s so busy here I’m sure no one will notice.”

“It’s all so amazing!” he gushed, still trying to keep his voice down, regardless.

“Yes… he’s certainly done a lot with the place since I’d last visited, I’ll give him that.” Their destination was not in the direction of higher and deeper into the fortress, it was actually the opposite; traveling out through two massive wooden doors where daylight streamed in, lined by more living guards. Stepping out in the bright sun, Ash’ton had to squint to look around, but was at just the right angle to look up at what they’d just experienced.

The sight was… honestly, he had no words that would do it justice. A massive white spire ascended into the very heavens itself, so tall that just trying to comprehend it made his head dizzy. The same wolf logo was emblazoned on the outside of the tower, and on the wooden doors, and on the armor of the guards, banners, everything. At the top, a crystal that dwarfed anything he’d ever seen, shining with the light of a miniature sun. Several smaller (by comparison) crystals seemed to orbit around it at a canted angle, held aloft by some unknown phantasmal force. The sides were gently sloped, getting steeper as they rose like some insane stalagmite formed from the very core of the earth itself, piercing the mantle and growing in the defiance of gravity. Where the exterior wasn’t solid white surface, windows and balconies could be seen every now and then, the greatest among them up near the top and in the part of the structure directly under the crystal; a series of interconnected panes so large you could probably fit a house through it, with a grand balcony to match. To him, it looked sort of like a great eye, gazing down on the kingdom below, ever vigilant. Helena noticed his incredulous expression and peered up to meet his gaze.

“King’s Landing,” she noted, shielding her eyes from the sun. “The power contained inside… men would doom entire civilizations to die for.” That’s what she’d said about her necklace, he noted with dry amusement. Swinging his head around to the other side, his breath caught and he felt a tingle of wonder mixed with vertigo as the scenery was almost opposite in scale, it spanned the breadth of the kingdom where the tower was tall, making him feel even smaller than he already was.

The bridge into the spire was hundreds, maybe even thousands of feet suspended above a massive crater with water at the bottom. It trailed down a slow arch onto the mainland with a massive gate and a slew of guards checking incoming and outgoing patrons. The gate opened up into the main street of the city, with so much activity it seemed more like an insect’s hive than a person settlement; carts going every which way, horses clogging the thoroughfare, and more pedestrians than one could ever hope to count, each rushing to whatever life or errands they had to complete or indulge in. Several smaller spires rose up above the rooftops and businesses, but the structure that dominated the skyline was a massive squat chimney-looking barrel of a spire with bright red smoke belching out of the top that slowly turned black as it lost its fire and intensity as it mixed with the air. A solid runner up was a beautiful marble building crafted from the same stone as the spire presumably, with columns and livery and a large dome with a flag. Several of the buildings had flags, actually; the chimney building had an anvil with a fist gripping a hammer, the largest spire was simply a crystal, the domed building had a chisel on it, several other smaller buildings had flags such as an animal head, a loom, a stack of coins, and an anchor.

“Let’s go explore a little bit before we see what Mr. Grandiose has to say, hmm?”

The first order of business (quite literally) was the marquette square. It was like the festival in Goldenleaf, but multiplied by a thousand. In the middle of the city, another fountain depicting several regal figures headed by the King, ringed with every stall and trader and goods imaginable. Along the way, those large, intimidating iron constructs lined every street corner, every side road, some patrolling, some standing ever vigilant. No one seemed to pay them any mind, accustomed to them at that point.

Buskers plied them for coin (which she obliged every now and then), merchants tried to get their attention---”madam, you simply must try out our exquisite jewelry!" “grab a nice pair of booties for your child, the best quality!”---but she wasn’t too concerned with most of them, merely browsing and holding him on her shoulders so he could also look around in amazement.

“Fresh pork buns, baked in house daily!” someone called nearby, and the smell was so delectable it immediately drew his attention as he inadvertently squeezed her ears. He heard her chuckle softly and dig through her robes.

“Yes sir, that sounds lovely,” she told a nice sandy brown reptile of a man, collecting two large steaming buns wrapped in a husk for portability.

“Thank you for your kindness, madam,” he thanked with a bow, and she passed one up to him. Unable to wait, he instantly tore into it, and it was one of the most delectable things he’d ever tasted.

“Thank you momma,” he mentioned before realizing he was supposed to be ‘hiding,’ and instantly hid his muzzle with his paws. She just laughed and reached up, giving him a soft pet.

“What a good boy,” she cooed as she continued her stroll through the plaza. “So polite!” He breathed a sigh of relief, happy that she approved rather than scolded him. As she approached a more formal looking stall, his eyes lit up as he realized what it was.

“Welcome to Monique’s candy emporium,” came the friendly voice of a reptilian-looking creature that seemed to be naturally armored from head to toe, with a long equally armor plated tail. He had an odd accent Ash’ton couldn’t quite place, most likely from a land he hadn’t heard of. Helena greeted the man in an odd language he also hadn’t heard before; not the Rea or anything magical, simply another language he’d never learned. The man seemed overjoyed at this, taking her hands in his and chattering excitedly. She pointed to a few of the differing candies, and he selected one after the other, placing them in a cloth-lined box and handing the whole affair to Helena, after she parted with more coin. But suddenly, the bustling merriment of the plaza was broken by a shout, from the man himself.

“Stop! Thief!!” a streak of white and brown disappeared into the crowd, before a childish voice started shouting as well, getting closer now.

“Hey! Stop! It wasn’t me!” The figure in question was brought before them, a calico-looking cat struggling to escape the grasp of two guards.

“Those are my candies!” the man (Monique? Ash was going to call him Monique) pointed as the child, who looked anywhere from eight to twelve, tossed them to the side. “Those were perfectly good!”

“Third time this week,” mentioned one of the guards, himself also a wolf man much like the King, and much like the ones in Goldenleaf. The word ‘nepotism’ came to mind.

“I found em in a gutter,” he obviously lied, looking away.

“I saw you do it!” Monique accused with pointed claw.

“Right, you’re coming with us,” the guard demanded.

“I’ll pay for it,” Helena offered, and they all looked at her in surprise.

“Doesn’t work like that, I’m afraid,” the guard noted, disappointment in his voice.

“So what happens to him now?”

“He’ll go away to learn his lesson for a time. He can try living an honest life again after his sentence.”

“What’s the punishment?”

“One hundred days in labor camp, most likely,” he commented offhandedly.

“Shame…” Helena offered, turning to leave, stowing the candy box in her bag. Now out of earshot of the others, he heard her muttering under her breath, and a short while later, surprised shouting.

“You there!” the guards accosted them after catching up, not having to run far. “What is it you think you’re doing?”

“Begging your pardon?”

“The boy vanished. Magic is strictly regulated in these parts.”

“Do I look like the type to do magical arts? I’m but a humble commoner.” To her credit, she looked the part with her disguise. The guard narrowed his eyes.

“We’ll be in touch,” he growled, storming off. Helena just laughed.

“There’s enough wards in this city to notice a mouse passing gas, they’ll know it was me. But no matter. We’ll be gone by the time they care.” Ash’ton also giggled at the image; it was pretty silly.

Another stop at another fancy establishment, this one seemed to be a writing store, or… scribe’s guild, as he’d learn. Reams of books, stacks of papers, writing implements galore, all in handwriting too beautiful to be mortal. There was a goat type creature that greeted them, asked how they may help, the standard for any merchant or business practice. Helena hadn’t stayed long in this one, a few books and scrolls (something about spelling), some inks, and they were on their way once more.

Other side of the city, more walking. A walled off building, which was out of the ordinary, given that everything here was squished together between paved roads and bustling activity. Two guards stood watch at the gate, and inside the walls, the second largest spire stood---second to that of the towering structure they’d originally come from, of course.

“Business?” One guard asked as they approached.

“I wish to discuss magicks with my kind,” she posited.

“You don’t look the mage type.”

“If not, you may throw me into the streets.”

“Fair enough,” the guard gave a huff, a snort of laughter, and opened the gate. “Can’t get in anyway unless you know of some secret code.” Helena walked right up to the massive stone door and traced her paw over the runes carved within.

Friend, acquaintance, enter.

The door glowed and sprang to life, parting ways to reveal the world within.

“Huh. Well I’ll be…” he heard the faintest of voice of the stupefied guard fade away as she marched inside.

“Ah, a new sister of the Rea,” came another soft voice as they entered the main circular ground floor. It was an old, wizened wolf man with white fur, though it seemed to be from age and not from fur color, as his wisps splayed everywhere under his hat. On the walls, crystals of every shape and size, some glowing, some not. Racks and racks of scrolls, bookshelves with tons of books, a broom sweeping on its own, floating lanterns giving off light.

“What blessed winds have blown one of our own to visit on such an occasion?” He asked, offering a paw, which she shook in a mutual gesture of respect.

“Far traveler,” she noted, and he seemed to understand with no further explanation. “Tell me,” she continued. “What do you know of the magic of this land?”

“The Great Citadel shares with us and blesses us with its power, and we, the humble scholars and students of its great wisdom, seek to gain understanding and enlightenment. We also charge the magic crystals found throughout the city that serve various functions, and upkeep the ley lines that run through the streets. We craft spells for every day use, and ensure the security and regulation of such. And you… what are your duties, in the land that you hail from?”

“Much the same,” she noted. “I guard magic and improve the lives of the people.”

“Splended, our goals are aligned then.”

“The King gives you all of this?” she asked, glancing around.

“The Great Citadel,” he corrected. “The Ever-Shining Eye. The Immortal Sun, the Jewel of the Land. That is the source. The King allows us to share in a fraction of its bounty, to sip at the water of life, to gaze at a mere reflection of its grandiose divinity.”

“Hmm… Thank you for the answers.”

“Yes, sister of the Rea. Is there anything else I may help you with, or anything else you wish to inquire about?”

“I’d like to see a few of your spells, please.”

“Most certainly.”

The next half hour she spent poring over magical scrolls that all held the mysterious writing he now knew as the Rea; sometimes she would point out a word or a rune and they would nod and make notes, sometimes he would ask them about a way they’d arranged a certain word structure, and she’d nod along, impressed. It seemed to be a mutual exchange of ideas, but he understood none of it, and had grown understandably, quite bored. Just when he thought he was going to fall asleep right there on her shoulders, she thanked them for their time and bid them farewell.

“May the Rea bless you and grant you a long and prosperous life,” he bid as they made to leave.

“More than you know.”

Next tour of business, something called the Weaver’s Guild, one of the buildings with a flag, the one with the loom.

“Ma’am, are you sssure you’re in the right place?” A rather well-to-do merchant noted as they crossed into the elegant guild hall with fabrics as far as the eye could see, and looms and craftsmen to match. Ash’ton actually gripped Helena’s ears in apprehension as this man was much different and rather scary. It was some sort of… insect man. Long, spindly legs. Black exoskeleton. Many pairs of eyes. Two sets of arms with delicate digits, two pairs of legs he strode about on effortlessly, and a round abdomen that extended behind him. Despite his otherworldly, intimidating appearance, he was fashionably well dressed, with clothes that fit him oh so perfectly, with no room for error, plush and expensive looking.

“I have coin enough,” she noted, jingling her bag. “I simply wish to avoid attention.”

“Ssso be it,” he noted, his head twitching as it studied her from different angles. “What can I do for a lovely fox woman sssuch as yourself?”

“I have a summons to see the King,” she noted, pulling out the scroll of royal proclamation. His segmented arm quickly snatched it in the blink of an eye, and his mouthparts clicked.

“Oh dear, this sssimply won’t do,” he noted, handing it back to her. “No wonder you came to sssee us. Yes yessss, I sssee it now.” With equally blinding speed, a measuring tape was fetched from a table, his multinumbered eyes taking in every measurement as the tape scrawled every inch of her limbs. “And the boy.”

“Be still, my little Ash,” she whispered softly and sweetly into his ear, giving him a kiss. “These are professionals.”

“We sssee it all the time,” the spider person noted, folding one set of… hands? As the others reached out. “Part of the job.” Ash’ton felt a bit guilty of his gut reaction---these were people, after all---but on the other hand… regular insects were scary. But somehow, the idea of constantly being judged and having people live in fear of you just for existing also crossed his mind, and he felt an intense sadness for them. Ash’ton raised his hands bravely, and the spider person took him under the arms gently, far stronger than he expected despite his spindly frame. His second set of limbs manipulated the measuring tape as he’d done for her, recording every inch with precision.

“Perfect,” he noted. “What a well behaved little kit you have.”

“He’s my angel,” she commented, taking him back.

“I do not know what bussinesss you have with the King, but I sshall make you regal,” he relished, clapping his… hands. “Dimitri.”

“Sir.” A voice answered above. Ash’ton squeaked in surprise as yet another insect man descended from the ceiling above, this one green and elongated with two folded forearms and large, compound eyes and four legs.

“Something in red, if you will,” Helena commented, and he made a slight frown. “It’ll work,” she added, “trust me. Think… white fur.” She gave a wink, the spider went wide-eyed (a wonder to behold, for sure) and she put a paw up to her lips.

“Yesss ma’am,” he said. “My finessst work.” He turned to the giant mantis looming from the ceiling. “Dimitri, the finessst red sssilk, if you will.”

“Yes, Makarov.” The large insectoid disappeared into the rafters, supposedly after red silk, and the spider named Makarov equally busied himself with a whirlwind of activity. The wait was long, and the day was longer, and Ash’ton found himself nodding off as he waited for them to complete their ‘finest works.’

After his little ‘nap,’ Ash’ton awoke with a start to a set of new clothes being fitted to him. A white undertunic with a fancy black jacket over it, a bit stiff around the collar and shoulders, but snug and comfortable. The jacket had beautiful gold embroidery all along the length and up the part in front, some were random designs that blended into fox anatomy such as tails or heads/ears, some were letters and runes that spelled things he’d have to learn later in life to understand. A matching pair of pants went with it, simplistic in style as not to pull attention from the top, but still cozy.

For her, it was… absolutely stunning. She had eschewed her traditional light blue robes with red skirt and sash, and had instead been tailored into a dress that matched the same style his had been made with. Red the whole way through, except for the excessive amount of gold embroidery, designs, and trim. The top half hugged her curves in ways the old robe hadn’t, expressing her feminine shape through the direction of the fabric, all the way until the waistline. Below, the dress flowed freely, covering as much space as it wished, with wide sashes hanging down to accent the designs above it. It looked positively regal, as they had promised.

“Much better…” Helena all but purred, doing a twirl. “It’s been so long since I’ve had to dress nicely for anything. I forgot how good it felt.”

“Sssome of my finessst work,” Makarov nodded, giving a bow as she showed it off.

“Your work will impress the King,” she promised. From the depths of her new dress she withdrew the coin purse, collecting most of the coins and laying them out on the counter.

“My work iss grand, but even ssso, that iss way more than-”

“For Dimitri too,” she commented, with a wink.

“Asss you say…” he agreed, scooping the coins with one hand and vanishing them into the desk.

“Thank you for all of your work,” she noted again, with another twirl.

“It hasss been an honor.”

“Say thank you to the kind man, Ash’ton.” Ash’ton perked up a bit, making sure he’d heard correctly.

“Thank you mister spider man!” he exclaimed with a wave. Makarov positively… beamed? Which was a terrifying prospect in itself, as his fangs and mouthparts glistened, but Ash’ton understood the implications, at least.

“Exsssquisite!”

The sun had begun its slow, lazy descent toward the horizon, not quite reaching it yet, throwing bands of orange and purple and red through the atmosphere as it fell towards the earth. Satisfied with her errands for the day, Helena was finally ready to meet… the King. Ash’ton wasn’t sure if he was ready, his heart was beating quickly as they scaled the large, sloped marble bridge approaching the Great Citadel. The Ever-Shining Eye. The Immortal Sun. What was to come of this meeting? Would they…

“Are they going to… take me away?” he asked, his voice shaking.

“I would die before I let that happen,” she spat in a serious tone, although Ash’ton understood it wasn’t directed at him. It was an indictment of the world. “Do not be afraid, my love. Whatever comes of this meeting, we have each other. You are my son, my flesh and blood, and nothing will change that. There is a good chance he may try… but it will not happen.” He had so many questions, but not the time or courage to ask them. Why him? Why was he so important? Why would he try? Slowly, painfully, he would have to wait, like a man before the gallows.

“I only need one thing,” she added, stopping to hold him in her arms instead of her shoulders, so they were looking face to face.

“Yes mama?”

“Promise me you won’t lose hope.” It was a simple request, and yet… one of the hardest he’d ever had to make. How do you promise not to feel a certain way? But for her, his entire world, his savior and his mother, he would try.

“I promise, momma.” She held her face to his, touching foreheads.

“Showtime.”

As before, she threw her head back as if letting her hair down, and right there on the bridge, her nine tails burst forth fanning out behind her, twitching and waving, her fur returning to its brilliant spectral white, Makarov’s dress looking even more stunning than before now that its occupant matched its design choice. There were gasps and applause from passerbys, but she had not eyes for them as she marched determinedly toward the gleaming spire.

On the way, guards straightened up their pose, saluting. The iron constructs knelt down as she approached, and then stood up when she passed. No wonder she’d disguised herself as not to draw attention, imagine the ones in the street doing that! Once inside, they marched right past the fountain, up the grand central staircase, to the two guards moderating the large doors into the citadel proper.

“Ma’am,” they greeted, giving a salute. She produced the summons and showed them, and with a quick nod, they opened the door for her. A long hallway lined with doors and more guards opened up into a large central room that seemed to be some sort of ballroom or party venue, as it had a stage, tables and chairs, more tables to the sides most likely for food, and all of the amenities one would need to host a fancy get together.

“Business?” Another guard questioned, and once again she produced the summons. “Elevator one, top floor. Show the guard inside.” They crossed the gargantuan establishment and passed through a golden gate, down another small hallway, finally approaching a platform that was unlike anything he’d seen. A large glass or possibly crystal platform sat atop a thin metal frame, with another crystal set into the front of it that shone softly, with guards on either side. Another inquiry, they were instructed to stand on the platform. Ash’ton gripped his mother’s fur so tightly it probably hurt, but she didn’t react if it did. The elevator was see-through thanks to the crystal platform, and it was a long way down.

After speaking the command word, they shot up into the air at breakneck pace, the wind blowing her dress in varying ways and sending ripples through his fur. There were many floors they could have stopped at, but their destination lay at the very top, the domain of the King himself; King’s Landing. The elevator slowed to a stop, and Ash’ton was afraid if he looked down now, he might possibly vomit. Helena brushed a hand through his hair, and gave him a kiss on the head.

“Just a little while longer,” she cooed. “Everything will be okay.” It did little to quell the nausea, but it did quiet the rising panic. The final hallway passed by, various paintings of their canine king lined the walls between stone depictions also of him. “He sure thinks highly of himself,” she commented with a hint of sarcasm as they approached a set of gilded doors with two guards in particular standing watch. Upon being shown the summons, they opened the two doors and ushered the pair inside.

Immediately behind the door was a staircase with an open roof, the ceiling towering above, the entryway recessed into the ground. As they ascended, the great hall he had been dreading finally showed itself, and he had to catch his breath.

The large imposing window, the great eye, was actually part of this very room. It spanned floor to ceiling, giving a spectacular view of the city and surrounding land surpassed by none. Small arches (with doors for inclement weather) were set into the glass, leading to a balcony one could observe or mingle as you like while enjoying the stunning view. Enormous stone pillars supported the roof at varying intervals, creating a natural pathway up to their ultimate destination; a splendid gilded throne made entirely of crystal with gold filigree spidering through it with patterns so intricate it looked all but incomprehensible.

Above the throne, curiously, hung a hammer that was so comically large it looked out of place, as if the one meant to wield it would consider this a cramped parlour rather than a throne room so impossibly expansive he thought it might even hold clouds. The entire ensemble, throne and hammer alike, sat raised above the surrounding area by many steps, giving the occupant a raised view of the area. The room was not empty, either. Many well-to-do royals and nobles gossiped along the sides and on the balcony, groups formed here and there, and up upon the crystalline throne sat the King himself, a strong fearsome wolf man that looked every bit as fit and muscular and imposing as Helena did graceful and feminine.

He had been conversing idly with another group of random royals, more wolves from the look of it, when he noticed the pair enter. Upon seeing them, a smile so large that Ash’ton felt a pang of terror rather than friendliness or comfort crossed his face. The Wolf King gave a wave of the hand and a whisper, and the royals quickly fled. Now capturing their attention and they his, he gave another wave of his paw, a clear indication for them to approach. And thus, they did.

It was a tense few moments for Ash’ton as Helena marched her way determinedly toward the ultimate power of the land, seemingly unphased. As they drew closer, he could see two bodyguards standing personally at the ready on either side of him, and they gave wicked grins as he realized it was the same two that had accosted them in Goldenleaf. Obviously they were not to speak out of turn, and they let their toothy maws communicate just how happy they were to see them. As Helena ascended the steps and came face to face with the king, now on his level, he rose from his throne, giving them a deep and formal bow.

“Hello Tas’sarion,” she greeted curtly but politely, although not returning his gesture. He straightened up, resplendent in his kingly garb, crown glittering upon his head, and bid them an answer with voice deep and authoritative. His wide, friendly grin still played upon his face.

“Hello, sister.”