FSE

Furry search engine

formerly SoFurry search engine

Aster stared at himself in the mirror that Sheon held, running his hands along the lacy, mesh sleeves of his new shirt. The clothes were tight on his body, but they weren't uncomfortable, nor were they as restricting as he originally thought they would be. Why the king wanted him to fight in such expensive-looking clothes was beyond him, but it wasn't his place to question the decisions of his master.

“You look lovely, Aster," Sheon smiled. It didn't reach her eyes, he noticed. A shame that was, Sheon had a beautiful smile and he liked it when she gave him one in full sincerity. There was something the elf slave knew that he did not, and it was clearly bothering her. Perhaps it had something to do with her cryptic words from yesterday?

He shakes his head, his bestial ears flicking back and forth. He had been hoping for the fogginess that encircled his mind to clear up by morning, but it had not. It felt worse now if anything, like all his thoughts were trying to push through a thick blanket. It was hard to think straight. In fact, he didn't feel like thinking at all.

“Just your makeup left now." Her voice was kind and gentle, but for some reason, he decided to interpret her words as orders. That was fine though, orders were nice, much easier to follow orders than to try and think on your own.

He unlatched the lid of a small wooden box that sat upon a nearby stool. Inside were an assortment of brushes, a small sponge, and several shades of concealer, all of them untouched except for one color that was almost gone. There was a bottle of mascara, some eyeliner, and a few shades of blush that he could apply as well.

He took the sponge, careful not to rip it with his claws, and dabbed at what little of the concealer was left. He turned back to the mirror and applied the it perfectly, covering any blemishes or bruises he had. Next, he added the mascara to make his eyelashes look fuller, then just a tiny bit of eyeliner that made his already vibrant yellow eyes pop like tiny stars. He picked up one of the brushes and dipped it into the bottle of the lightest blush he had, drawing it out and dabbing it onto his cheeks ever so gently, just to give his cheeks a light, rosy hue.

It never made sense to him, wearing makeup in the arena. It would all get washed away by sweat and blood and would leave his face a runny mess. But the King liked it, the King wanted it, and so the King shall have it. It was not Aster's place to question his master. It was his place to follow orders and do as he was told.

He packed everything away and Sheon lowered the mirror, tucking it under her arm as she retrieved the box of makeup from him.

“The diplomat will arrive in a few hours, be prepared, and try not to smudge your makeup," Sheon spoke.

“Okay," Aster said, voice empty, hollow, and barely more than a whisper. His face was impassive, like he was constantly staring off into space and wasn't fully aware of his surroundings.

Sheon bit her lip, looking like she wanted to say something, “Aster you… I... Just be careful today, okay?" Then she lowered her voice to a whisper, but his sensitive ears could hear her just fine. “Things are going to be happening soon, and I just want to make sure you will be safe when they do."

He looks at her curiously, head tilting to one side as he regarded his fellow slave with blank eyes. What did she mean by that? And why was she whispering? Was it because she didn't want the guards to hear her? He could smell the two guards right on the other side of the door, hear them too—their breathing, the slight shuffling of their feet, the rasp of leather, and the click of a mechanism as a guard drew their pistol and checked it over before placing it back into its holster.

“Okay." He wanted to say more, to ask her about her cryptic messages and what it was that she knew that he did not. But he didn't, if she had been ordered not to tell him anything, then he didn't want her getting into trouble. And he didn't want to get into trouble for being too curious either.

Sheon reached into the sleeve of her simple black and white servant attire, pulling out a scrap piece of paper. Her eyes kept darting from him then to the door, like she expected the guards to realize what she was doing and suddenly come bursting in.

“Take this, read it, memorize it, then burn it," said Sheon hurriedly, her eyes constantly flicking from him to the paper, and then to the door. She had nothing to worry about, the guards weren't even paying attention, holding their own whispered conversation. They said something about an elf, a few things about… symbols? He wasn't sure what that was about. Then something about war. Whatever, it didn't matter, plus, he didn't want to get into trouble because he was spying… not again anyway, even if the first time wasn't his fault.

Sheon grabbed his hand forcefully, ignoring the way he flinched, and pressed the piece of paper into his palm, folding his fingers over it and making him clench it in his fist. Before he could even ask what it was, or even ask anything for that matter, Sheon was at the door, rapping her knuckles against the wooden surface. There was the sound of metal against metal as a key was inserted, the click as it was turned, and the groaning screech of turning gears as the door unlocked and swung open.

The guards glanced inside for but a moment, but as soon as Sheon was out the door, they closed and locked it once more. He could hear their retreating footsteps, Sheon's softer than the armor-clad men who had accompanied her, and the grating screech of her shackles dragging against the stone. They grew quieter and quieter, fading off into the distance, until finally… they were gone. Aster was left standing in the middle of his barely lit cell, his ears straining to hear any kind of sound, only to be greeted by complete silence.

He looked down at his unconsciously clenched fist. He relaxed his fingers, taking hold of the little scrap of paper and unfolding it. There was a jumble of weird-looking symbols scrawled across the tiny surface. They were letters. Or were they words? He wasn't sure which one was which, but he knew Sheon had given him a message. But… didn't she know he couldn't read? Wait… had he never told her he couldn't read?

He sifted through what little of his memories were able to pass through the thick fog, but it was hard, and things were too unclear for him to remember anything in full detail. There were large gaps in his memories where he knew something should be, entire months where all he could do was draw a blank.

From what little he could garner; he doesn't recall ever telling her about his illiteracy. Oh well, that was okay! One day, he would learn to read, till then, he would keep Sheon's message safe and read it when he was able.

After tucking Sheon's message away under his pile of blankets, he sits down on the stool in the middle of the gloomily lit room, the shackles around his ankles clinking against the stone and rubbing against his already raw flesh. The fur around them had long since fallen away, leaving only red, blistered, scabby skin. It was painful, wearing them all the time, but he was a good boy, so he didn't complain.

He folded his hands in his lap and waited, watching as the small oil lamp Sheon had left cast dancing shadows across the stone walls. The shadows flickered and snapped, roiling around against the bumpy walls like inky tar. He was grateful Sheon had left the lamp; he didn't think he would have been able to take it if he was forced to sit here in this room, all alone, in the complete dark. He shivered at the very idea, and before an all too familiar darkness enclosed around his mind, he went back to staring at the oil lamp's flickering flame.

He couldn't smell the familiar scent of wet dirt and crushed leaves that Sheon's presence usually left behind. He wanted to be sad about that, but he just couldn't, he felt empty, like a shell or a doll. It was alright though, better to be a doll than to be himself, dolls couldn't get into trouble, they didn't disobey or make mistakes. Yes, much better to be a doll.

Soon, he would be out there once more, entertaining the nobles, the aristocrats, and the elites of society with blood and death. But most importantly, putting on a show for what seemed to be a rather important person. He wonders what this diplomat will look like, they were an elf, he knew that much, but nothing more. Oh well, he will see in a few hours anyway.

Today will be a good day, he thinks, trying to force a smile. Yes, today I will be good! The best even! Master will be so proud of me, and then… a-and then m-maybe he will collar me!

He reaches up and touches his neck, flinching slightly as his fingers graze a concealed bruise. He can be good; he will be good! He hadn't thought about it till this morning, but if he was able to be the absolute best slave he possibly could while this royal was visiting, then perhaps, just maybe, Master would finally value him, if only a little.

***

Myrra woke with a start, her eyes bulging out of her skull as she rolled over and fell out of bed, impacting the hard wood floor. She barely held back a scream as she clutched at her head, her breathing becoming erratic and barely more than strangled gasps.

It felt like her head was exploding! That it was being pierced by a thousand metal spikes! The pain was nigh unbearable, but as soon as the pain had come, it went, quickly fading away to just a dull thrumming in the back of her head. She lay there, spread eagle on the floor, eyes closed and panting hard. After a few minutes of just lying there, letting the throbbing pain in her head subside, she opened her eyes.

“What…" she panted, “In the seven hells was that…"

She picked herself up off the floor, using the edge of her bed to steady herself. Glancing at the ornate clock on the wall behind her desk told her it was only a few minutes past midnight. The same time Kaster had said they would be passing over the Dexan border.

Well, that explains the sudden pain, but it doesn't explain the amount of it. She thought, fingers rubbing at her temples in slow, methodical circles. Whenever she would cross over into another nation, kingdom, or country, she would be able to feel where their balance on the scales lie. If the balance was skewed too far in one direction or the other, then she could end up feeling a bit sick. But this? This was something else entirely, she has never experienced something this extreme in all her 129 years of life.

Myrra carefully made her way over to her desk, slumping down into her chair and letting out a groan. She waved her hand over her desk, her symbol glowing as a pair of scales, completely identical to her goddess' except these were made out of glowing white light, appeared before her.

“How…" She whispered, eyes wide and mouth hanging agape at what she saw. The scales were so imbalanced that it confused her, the pan containing the skull almost touching the desk while the heart was raised into the air.

The skull looked ominous and foreboding, despite it being made of light, its hollow, lifeless eye sockets seemingly staring into her very soul. The heart was barely beating, each thuh-thump, followed by such a long pause that Myrra grew afraid it had stopped altogether.

Then, right before her very eyes, the scales twitched! The heart was lowered just a fraction of an inch while the skull was raised, but it was enough to send her heart soaring with joy! Harmony was fighting back against chaos! Perhaps all was not lost! Then, almost immediately, the skull lowered back to its original position, nullifying whatever work some goodhearted person had done. Her heart fell, feeling like it was sinking into a void.

Chaos reigned over the Kingdom of Dexan, justice was almost non-existent, and if she didn't fix things fast, this chaos could end up spreading to other countries. Things were far worse than she or her aunt could have ever imagined.

She was at a loss as to what to do, her mind filling with imaginative horrors about what could happen if things didn't get fixed. She had dealt with things like this, but never on such a scale, never during such dire circumstances, never with the scales so out of balance it could mean the destruction of entire civilizations. What if she failed? What if she couldn't do it? Would Dexan fall because she wasn't strong enough to prevent this worldly chaos from consuming it and its people? Would this corruption spread to her home? To the Great Forest of Aelia?

Then she remembered the morning previous, the day she had been promoted to spymaster. The scales had been tipped, though only slightly, from perfect balance to favoring the side of chaos. Was she too late? Had the seed of chaos and corruption already implanted itself within the Elven Nation?

She shakes her, slapping her cheeks a few times to wake herself up and drag her mind away from the dark thoughts that were creeping in.

“Come on, Myrra!" She scolds herself, “You are a Champion of a goddess! A damn Symbol Bearer! Pull yourself together, it is your duty to fix issues like these!"

Quick as she could, she drew out her stack of parchment, ink well, and quill. She didn't waste any time with elegance or proper writing, scribbling down her findings and concerns in hasty chicken scratch. This letter had to get back to her aunt asap, such a revelation of corruption within Dexan could change the course of this coming war.

With the letter finished, she tied it up with the royal family's secret knot, her hands trembling all the while. It was a sloppy job, but it would keep it secure, and her aunt would know it was from her either way.

She dispelled the glowing scales with a wave of her hand before drawing upon her power to craft something else. With a bright flash of light that might have woken up the entire ship if her door hadn't been closed, an owl, made of pure light, rested upon her desk.

She began talking to the familiar out of pure habit as she tied the letter to its leg, “Take this to Queen Evalon as fast as you can! Do not delay, and whatever you do, do not get caught!"

The light owl just blinked at her, and she knew she was being ridiculous talking to this figment. It was not a living creature, it had no mind of its own, no soul. It was simply a vessel that would carry her will and obey whatever commands it was given, so long as she could keep it formed with a constant flow of arcana. She couldn't help it though, she spent a lot of time talking to Ira, and while some might find that strange, her pet owl was quite intelligent.

It would take a lot out of her, constantly providing a flow of arcana till the little owl reached Iysngrad, but it had to be done, Ira would not be returning for some time, and this could not wait.

She opened one of the portholes behind her desk and the familiar instantly shot out of it and into the dark, stary night. The familiar was not as limited by physical restraints as Ira, so its speed was far superior, it might even catch up to her dear friend before she reaches Iysngrad. Now, however, she was going to be weakened for the next couple of days. The amount of arcana and energy it costs to craft her own familiar was exhausting, not to mention the fact she had to keep it supplied with a constant flow or it would just wink out of existence.

She made her way back over to her bed, slumping down onto it and resting her head in her hands.

“Milady…" she began, taking a deep breath and sighing. “Milady, give me the strength and the heart to do this, help me find the cause of this chaos… and eliminate it."

With her prayer said, Myrra collapses back onto her bed, exhaustion overtaking her.

***

“You look like shit," Kaster said flatly, watching as Myrra climbed the steps to the helm.

“I feel like it too," Myrra groaned in response, yawning, and stretching her arms before leaning against the railing. There were bags under her eyes, her hair was as messy as a rat's nest, and she felt more tired than when she went to sleep. About a quarter of the arcana she had within her was being constantly drained, and the amount was slowly growing as she and her familiar grew farther apart.

Last night had not been good, she had had so many nightmares, so many images of a burning forest, of a city crumbling into ruin, of Evalon and Avos dead, slumped against their thrones, the entire room covered in blood. And, for some reason, at the center of it all was a beast, standing on its hind legs, its claws dripping with blood. She wasn't able to make out any details of the thing, it was just a black mass, a silhouette. Had the dream been a warning of what was to come if she didn't set the scales right? Surely her goddess would have dragged her back to the garden to tell her so in person. Rayla hated cryptic messages, riddles, misdirection, and just about anything that wasn't straightforward, honest, and to the point.

No, the dream had not been a message, just a simple dream, her brain trying to process all of the recent events. Nothing more, nothing less.

“Rough night?" Kaster asked, giving Myrra a concerned look.

“You wouldn't believe it," she replied, rubbing her eyes and yawning once more.

“Maybe ya should go see Esma? See if she's got somethin' to help ya get up and going," Kaster suggested with a shrug, eyes returning to the horizon.

“Nah, after a shower and a cup of vala I'll be alright. In any case, the doc said not to disturb her unless it was vitally important, a fitful night is hardly life-threatening."

“Hmm, suit yer self, princess."

“I told you to stop calling me that!" Myrra groaned, though she smiled at her friend's teasing.

Kaster just hummed in response a smirk forming on her lips, eyes still cast towards the horizon.

The sun shone with radiance in the clear blue sky, bathing the landscape in its warm, golden rays. The light shot through and bounced off the large arcane crystal that kept the ship flying, bathing the deck in a slight blueish tint. When the sun was at the right angle, it could even send rays straight through the crystal, making them change from yellow to blue. It was quite impressive to see it happen. It was a good thing both Myrra and Kaster were wearing their flight goggles, the tinted glass filtering out a majority of the sun's glare and brightness.

The crisp morning wind blew through her hair, making it flow like a white, snowy river, the tails of her jacket fluttering behind her. It was a good thing the dragon scales on the shoulders of her jacket still held their warming charms, otherwise, she might have been left shivering by the morning chill. The enchantment was wearing off though and she would have to get it recharged soon, a pricey affair but well worth it in her opinion.

They had left the Great Plains behind last night, and now they flew over rolling hills and golden farmland, the occasional outskirt village passing by below. The people of Dexan have probably seen airships before, seeing as its capital city, Idota, was a major trading hub on the border of three separate nations. But the likely hood of them having ever seen an elven airship was slim to none, the elves did not trade that often with other kingdoms, and when they did, it was on their terms and in their territory.

Not to mention that most of the airships Myrra's people built were mainly for war and the defense of their home. Her ship, a ship she has still yet to name, was the first one small enough to be defined more as a transport or cruiser. Of course, it was rather deceptive in its appearance, looking more like something used for simple travel rather than the war machine that it was. The amount of weaponry, especially magical weaponry, that bristled beneath its hull and inside hidden compartments was insane.

She finally decided to go take a shower, heading back down to her cabin to do so. Afterward, she got a cup of vala from the galley, the drink nice and warm and perking her up nicely. She had made it a point to stockpile the good stuff, something her crew was extremely grateful for. Bad vala tasted horrible, and not even Tess, a mercenary that was usually forced to eat some really strange things in her travels, could stomach the stuff. If she wasn't careful, she could get addicted to the creamy, green-tinted liquid. It was like an energy booster, getting her wide awake and ready for the day in no time.

She sat on the railing next to Kaster as the half-elf steered the ship, both of them sipping cups of vala and chatting as they flew further and further into Dexan. Larger and more populated villages started to appear, and from there, things only got bigger, villages turning into towns, and then towns into what could only be called small cities. They flew over all of them, having no need to stop, and even if they did, these smaller cities didn't appear to have any landing pads or docks for airships to touch down.

Forts and command posts then started to pop up, large towers with beacons no doubt powered by steam generators spaced every few miles. Warning towers she realized, powering those beacons would cause them to light up like tiny stars. Even at midday, they would be bright enough to see clearly.

It seemed rather redundant to Myrra, having fortifications placed deep within the boundaries of their nation like this. You should have your forts and forward warning systems placed closer to the border to warn the main city and its forces of an imminent invasion. So far, from what she has seen, it appeared that any enemies of Dexan could simply take the outskirts of the nation where all its farmland was located, and then simply wait and starve out the rest of the country.

Already she was gathering information on Dexan and she hadn't even reached the capital yet! It was enough though, enough to help with a counter-invasion if the Queen so wished it. Myrra knew she would want to get back at Dexan for even thinking they could just waltz right into the Great Forest of Aelia and take it as if it was their own. She would show the humans that the elves were not to be messed with! Her people were blessed by Aelia after all, the goddess of nature and the mother of Kortis and Krita, the gods of life and death respectfully. Then again, that hot-headed thinking was probably why she wouldn't make a good ruler.

As they grew closer to the capital city, massive estates easily as large as some of the forts she had seen, if not larger, started to appear. They were practically castles, the main manor well-fortified, almost more so than the literal fortifications meant to slow an invasion. The more they passed, the grander in scale and materials they became. Myrra could scarcely even guess as to how much it had cost to build them.

At one point, Myrra had seen a rather opulent-looking lakeside manor off in the distance, no doubt the summer home of some noble or other aristocratic people. It dwarfed every other castle, estate, and manor she has seen so far, a massive construct of rich wood, gleaming glass, and perfectly tailored landscaping.

For some reason, the sight sickened her, and she wondered, if they could afford to build such grand manors, why some of the outlying villages seemed to be almost nothing more than ghost towns.

When she had first seen a town near the outskirts, it was not what she was expecting. There was no technology, no electricity, and no signs of magic either. It was just a bunch of thatch-roof huts, a single barn, and a few farm animals that she could spot. The residents of that small village were out in the fields, toiling away at the soil to grow crops no doubt bound for the capital.

It wasn't long before she spotted Idota on the horizon, its massive stone walls painting an intimidating picture. Already from here, she could see the buzz of airships flying all across the massive city like flies. There was so much activity, and she hadn't even reached the city proper yet! Small, dotted lines of airships were constantly flowing in and out of the city from all directions, like multiple rivers flowing into a single junction before splitting off once more.

There was no way the city wasn't pulling in massive profits, and she had a sneaking suspicion, based on what she had seen from the scales last night and of the people living on the outskirts, that most of it was going towards fueling the continued corruption that this country was facing.

It wasn't long before they were joined by other airships coming in from far-off lands, the smaller ones buzzing past them to get to the checkpoints first and not have to wait in a long line before being allowed to enter the city.

“Fuckin' asshole!" Kaster shouted, flipping a passing ship her pinky finger. “Shitty pilots and their shitty ships! Learn to fly ya bastard!"

Myrra looked at her friend and raised an eyebrow, though she couldn't really blame her. That last ship had come awfully close to clipping them in its attempts to get passed them before they reached the floating platforms that were the checkpoint. She also couldn't blame the other ship's captain for wanting to get through a checkpoint as fast as possible. It was bad for business if you got caught behind a ship inspection. It could take hours if not days for the authorities to scour a vessel, depending on the size, for illegal goods or any other forms of contraband.

Ahead of them were two floating platforms covered by a gazebo-like roof, almost like a covered dock, massive propellors powered by steam engines keeping them aloft. Large ballista rested near both ends of the platforms, manned by two or three humans. They even had a gatling gun or two, the operator sitting in an attached chair, one hand on the control stick used to swivel and turn the massive gun, the other resting on a hand crank that was used to fire the multi-barreled weapon.

Kaster maneuvered the ship into line, pulling back on a lever next to the steering wheel to slow their approach. Myrra could hear the massive propellor at the rear of the ship slowing, then Kaster barked orders at the crew who were milling about on deck, instructing them to furl out the canvas fins on the sides of the ship to slow them down further.

The ship, as Kaster had told Myrra, was still a prototype, and that in the future, she was hoping to get it so the entire vessel could be controlled right here at the helm by the captain or helmswomen. Now wouldn't that be a sight? An entire ship that could be piloted by one person! Sadly, however, Kaster only had it engineered for the pilot to control the speed, but even that was a massive step towards innovation.

Slowly, one by one, a ship would slide in between the two platforms, stop, and then be boarded. Whoever was piloting the checkpoint platforms were good, able to maneuver in sync to expand or contract according to the size of whatever ship slid in between them.

Finally, it was their turn, Kaster gracefully flying the ship to a stop at the checkpoint.

“Think they'll try anything funny?" asked Kaster, eyeing the well-dressed officials that approached the side of the ship with suspicion.

“Lower the walkway!" Myrra called before answering her friend. “They better not, but if they do, we don't have much choice but to follow what they say. Can't blow our cover too soon now, can we?"

“S'pose not," Kaster huffed, leaving the wheel, and leaning against the railing.

Myrra patted her friend on the shoulder before making her way down to the deck to wait for the arrival of these inspectors. A hatch opened on the side of the ship, a long, wooden walkway with studded steps sliding out and lowering to the floor of the platform, allowing the officials on board.

A guard with a bayonetted rifle was the first to step foot onto the deck of her ship, closely followed by several more, all of them dressed in metal and leather armor, carrying swords, pistols, and rifles. It was probably a historical moment, the first time any human has ever stepped foot on an elven airship. You would think that moment would have already happened, seeing as the elven queen had a human for a husband, but Avos has never once stepped foot on an airship that wasn't human in design, his odd sensitivity to arcana preventing him from going anywhere near an elven one let alone on one.

She had seen how much Avos was struggling to keep himself together when he was seeing her off, the only reason he was able to stand it was probably because the arcane crystal used to power the ship was smaller than most. Though the magical weaponry probably offset that. She would have to get him a souvenir while she was in Idota, if only to make it up to him.

The guards looked wary, eyeing the massive blue crystal held above their heads by its framework of metal and wood, as well as the leering Tess and the ever-stoic Venallia. Huh. When had those two come topside? Also, when had they become so buddy-buddy? The two of them were standing side by side, Venallia with her arms crossed and looking down at the humans, Tess leaning back against the railing of the ship and shooting a wink at any guard who looked her way. The wink Tess gave the humans was both alluring and threatening, as if she was saying, “I'll give you a good time, but I'm going to kill you afterward."

Finally, two inspectors marched up the walkway, dressed in finely crafted and fancy-looking suits, each one holding a clipboard and quill. The group of guards spread out, flanking their charges, trying to look threatening. Some of them failed that though, Myrra could see their eyes flickering between all her crew, then at the swords and pistols on their hips, or in Venallia's case, at the massive halberd she held.

It probably didn't help that both Myrra and her crew were taller than most of the humans here. They have probably never even seen an elf before, due to her people's isolationism. Elves hardly ever left the Great Forest of Aelia.

Some of her crew snickered and whispered, muttering among themselves as they watched the humans with amusement and confusion. Myrra couldn't help but let a small smile come to her face at how she found the reactions of her crew amusing. She remembered her first time seeing a man in a woman's position, such a thing had gobsmacked her at the time, and it took a great deal of getting used to before she finally realized that her nation's system simply could not work universally.

Men as guards, security, or soldiers? Holding high governmental positions? The idea was nearly laughable! There was no way a man could ever become a soldier or anything of the like in her society, male elves were just too weak, too small, too fragile. Men were meant to be protected, to stay at home and look after the children or work more safer and passive jobs.

That is what she used to think. Her view on things had changed drastically ever since she became a diplomat and began traveling to other countries, experiencing other cultures. They had learned in school that the rest of the world wasn't all the same as they were, but there was a massive difference between knowing and experiencing, and it had come as a great shock to her when she first experienced such a culture shift.

Female elves were just naturally strong than males, and it was quite the opposite for humans. Well, except for the humans in the Eastern Isles, those women could give any female elf a run for their money. She had enjoyed her time there when building an alliance between their nations, perhaps she will go back one day, their Matriarch was surprisingly kind and welcoming.

Myrra decided to spare the humans the awkwardness of trying to figure out who the captain was, even if she thought it might be amusing. She stepped forward, approaching the inspectors—Venallia, Tess, and even Kaster falling into step behind her.

“Greetings," Myrra said, “I am Myrra Iryafiel, royal diplomat of the Elven Nation, niece to her majesty, Queen Evalon Envaris, and captain of this vessel."

The first inspector, an older man, with graying hair and pale skin, looked at her doubtfully, his brown eyes shining with suspicion behind his black-rimmed spectacles. If he was surprised to see an elf, he hid it well.

The second one, most likely the older one's assistant, seemed terrified, his vibrant green eyes darting all over the place as he held his clipboard close to his chest. He was short, hardly more than a boy if she had to guess, with curly, brown hair, lightly tanned skin, and a bit of muscle for someone so small. If he had been an elf, plenty of women would have been tripping over themselves for his hand in marriage. They still might, now that she thinks of it. The queen had set a rather unique trend with her marriage to a human, and soon enough, many more elves were following her example.

Though marriage might be a bit of a long shot for what the other elves were doing. Even though slavery was illegal in the Elven Nation, there were loopholes in these laws. The law specifically states that it is illegal to trade, sell, or buy a slave within the nation's borders. However, a huge loophole that many elven nobles took advantage of was that nowhere was it stated that it was illegal to own a slave. As such, they traveled outside of the Elven Nation, bought slaves, and then returned home.

Myrra knew that this loophole had been purposefully implemented by a previous queen and her court, it was such a huge oversight that it literally could not have been a mistake. Which queen it was, however, she did not know. Thankfully, her aunt was trying to get these laws changed, but she was meeting a lot of resistance on the courtroom floor. Especially from the nobles who owned slaves that they would have to set free and payback for all their years of service.

“I am Inspector Morez, and this is my assistant, William," said the old man gruffly, face impassive as he stood up tall and looked down at his clipboard. He has more than likely done this a million times, and to him, Myrra was nothing more than another number to check off his list. Going by his age, Myrra guessed he was probably training young William to be his replacement.

“Now, Miss Iyrafiel, I have a few questions I am going to have to ask you before we let you be on your way."

“Of course," Myrra smiled, hands clasped behind her back, standing straight and tall. He didn't seem like it, but Myrra needed to know if this man was going to cause her trouble or not. So, using only a hint of her power, she opened her third eye. It wasn't a literal third eye, more like a sixth sense, but it was Avos who had nicknamed this specific power of hers, and she had to admit, she liked the name.

Looking at Inspector Morez, she let her power flow, and within her mind's eye, her goddess' scales appeared. Internally, she sighed happily at what she saw. Balance. That was perfect, this man was just. She then turned her gaze to William, using her power to show her where his balance on the scales lie. He tipped more to the side of harmony, nothing wrong with that, it just meant he was more goodhearted than most. Hopefully, as he grew up, that would balance out.

“Firstly, I'm going to need to see your passport," Morez said, his hand outstretched and expectant.

“Of course," she responded, reaching into the inner pocket of her coat and pulling out the small booklet. Myrra was a diplomat, she has traveled almost the entirety of Dunehei, though there were a few places she has yet to explore. They were mostly just a few remaining human kingdoms, like Dexan, and the far northern mountains that belonged to the dragons. Perhaps, after all this is over, she will go to those places and set out on a great adventure to see the rest of the continent. Perhaps she will even go out to sea and travel to the lands beyond.

Morez opened her passport, scanning the information on the first page before flipping through it to make sure everything was in order.

“My, my…" he hums, “You have certainly been to many unique places, haven't you?"

She smiled, the old man growing on her a bit. Even though his alignment was balanced, she had at least been expecting a grouchy old codger who was just wishing his retirement would come sooner. She was thankfully wrong, and while he did have an edge to him, he seemed alright. He sort of reminded her of her grandpa.

“Yes sir, perks of being the personal emissary for her majesty."

“Hmm, well, all seems to be in order here. Just a few standard questions before you go, but… hmm." He scratched his chin thoughtfully, giving Myrra a once over before glancing at his assistant.

“Yes, yes, I think this can work. William!" Snapped Inspector Morez.

“Y-Yes sir?!" William responded, snapping to attention instantly. A blush started to form on his cheeks when several of her crew started giggling at his reaction, his shoulders slumping as he drew in on himself.

“Ahem," Myrra coughed roughly, giving pointed glares at her crew. They shut up pretty fast.

Morez gave her a grateful nod before turning to his young charge. “I want you to ask Lady Iyrafiel here all the standard questions, record her answers, and if you need help just ask." He handed William her passport, most likely so he could go over it himself.

“Yes sir! Right away sir!" The kid gave his elder a salute, different from how her people did it, his hand coming up to touch his forehead. She could tell the others wanted to chuckle at how adorable the display was, even she wanted to, but she held back and so did the rest of the crew.

He turned to Myrra, and with more confidence than she had seen previously from the young man, he marched up to her, clipboard in hand and quill at the ready.

“Alright, Lady Iyrafiel, to start off, what is the purpose of your visit?"

Myrra raised an eyebrow, surprised how this kid had done a complete turn around from what appeared to be a shy young boy just now beginning to learn the ropes, to a respectable young man who took his job seriously. Though she could tell he was still nervous, his hands shaking ever so slightly, and a bead of sweat forming on his forehead.

“The purpose of my visit is to facilitate a trade deal with your king, Ortho Dexan," she answered. Of course, it was a lie, but he didn't need to know that. As soon as she began to talk, his quill was moving across the parchment on his clipboard, writing down her answer as she spoke.

Once done, he looked back up at her. “Are you carrying and form of goods that you plan to sell and/or trade?"

“No, my visit is strictly business with the king." She thought it over for a moment before adding, “And perhaps a bit of sightseeing, I have never been to Idota before, so this is a new experience for me!"

A smile comes to his lips, and he nods, scribbling away at his parchment. “Alrighty, just one final thing, can you please confirm your identity with your name, age, race, place of birth, sex, date of passport issuance, and the passport expiration date?"

Myrra smiled and complied, “My name is Myrra Iyrafiel, I am 129 years old, and am an elf, part of the high-elf sub-race to be specific. My place of birth is the Great Forest of Aelia. I am clearly a woman, and my passport was issued on 471 AC on the 25th day in the month of Marino, it expires in 520 AC on the 22nd day of the month of Emeris."

As she spoke, William scribbled across his parchment, comparing her answers to the information contained within her passport before he suddenly paused.

“I… Pardon me but could you please repeat your age?" He asked, giving her a puzzled look.

She smirked, “Of course. I am 129 years old."

He looked at her with surprise, eyes blinking rapidly as he tried to comprehend someone living that long. She had to admit, the sight was rather adorable.

“I thought the stories of elves living that long were just made up! I didn't think you guys could live to be so old!"

“William!" Morez snapped sharply, “Don't be rude!"

Myrra held up a hand to calm the older inspector, “It is quite alright, I assure you." She then looked back at the young boy before her, “Elves do indeed live to be hundreds of years old, but I'm still rather young despite my age. If I had to compare, I'd say I'm around what you humans would call your 'twenties' but it is rather difficult to get an exact comparison."

“Thank you for telling me, it is nice to learn new things!" He beamed before going back to looking over her passport.

Only a few moments later did he say, “Excellent! Everything seems to be in order!" He handed her back her passport and she quickly tucked it away into her inner pocket.

It went quickly after that, Mr. Morez taking back the reigns and reviewing her crews' passports. Within a few minutes they were off, Kaster smoothly guiding the ship out from between the two platforms, Myrra waving at Inspector Morez and young William as they left.

“Cute kid," snickered Tess coming up the stairs and onto the helm, Venallia following along behind her.

“Do not get any ideas mercenary," Venallia quipped tersely, flicking the back of Tess' head with her finger.

“Ouch! Fuckin' old bat," Tess mumbled, rubbing the back of her head. “All I said was that he was cute!"

“Yes, those were your words, but the meaning behind them was less than honorable."

“Hey! I'm plenty honorable! Just cause I said he was cute doesn't mean I wanna go jump on his stick, you old crone!"

Myrra just watched on in amusement as the two started bickering back and forth. Honestly, it looked like they had known each other their entire lives, yet they had only met the day before.

“They normally like this?" Kaster asked confusedly, giving the two bickering elves a cursory glance.

“I'm not sure, but it is certainly starting to look like it will be, doesn't it?" She responded.

“Aye', it does indeed. By the way, you any idea where we s'pose to dock?"

“Yes, we will be docking at the palace, bay 6 as I was informed. Apparently, it is reserved for foreign dignitaries."

“Gotcha, headin' there now."

With that, Kaster turned the wheel, pointing the ship towards the large spiraling towers at the city center that was no doubt the King's palace. In the center was a large cathedral-like tower that scrapped the sky, massive curving supports, and bridges connecting it to dozens of smaller towers that encircled it. Then those smaller towers were connected to smaller ones, getting lower and lower to the ground till there was nowhere else to go. It reminded Myrra of a tiered cake, 4 levels of varying towers, pillars, and constructs, all connected by bridges, massive support beams, and elevators. Large airships were docked on every level, smaller, more agile ones buzzing around the place like flies, ferrying people up and down each tier to wherever they needed to go.

Looking down, Myrra found steam and smoke rising from countless chimneys, the sun glinting off the red, tiled rooves that seemed to span every building within Idota. Cobblestone streets were packed full of people going about their day, and she even saw several carts and wagons being pulled by mechanical horses towards a large open-aired market she saw in the distance.

In the center of the market was a large marble statue depicting a man, a human man, standing tall, his foot resting on the back of some defeated foe. One hand rested on his hip, the other on the hilt of his sheathed sword, his head tilted up in what was supposed to be an impressive, regal pose. In all honesty, it just looked like the guy was kind of snobbish. Then again, it didn't help that the statue was a depiction of a man, most likely the king.

She might have accepted that other kingdoms didn't work like her own, but she was still an elf and a woman. Her culture was ingrained inside of her, it was a part of her, and she couldn't help but see the statue as a man playing dress-up, trying to look the part of something he wasn't.

She slapped Kaster on the arm, pointing out the ridiculous statue before another large tower close to the square caught her eye. It was a clock tower, the hands of the clock easily as large as her ship. Massive gears the size of some of the buildings surrounding it jutted from its stone walls, giving the impression that the tower had been built for some other purpose and then later redesigned as a clock tower, only for the architects to realize at the last moment that the tower wasn't big enough to hold the complicated mechanism.

Myrra watched it intently, wanting to see the massive gears turn, the large clock hands tick, and perhaps even hear the chiming bells. It was almost midday, and the hands on the clock read as much, so close to ticking over to 12. Yet as time grew on, as she watched and waited, nothing happened. Noon came and went, and the hands of the clock tower never even twitched.

“Disappointing, isn't it?" said Venallia, sidling up to her and leaning against the railing as well, looking out over the city.

“What?" she asked, looking at her companion confusedly.

“The clock tower," Venallia explained, “It's broken, hasn't moved in hundreds of years."

“Really? How do you know that?"

“I've been to Idota several times in the past, back when humans and elves were on better terms with each other after the war. It's been so long now though; I can hardly remember what the tower's chiming bells sounded like."

Ah, yes. The war. The Cataclysm as some called it. She forgets how old Venallia is sometimes, the fact that she was born during such a horrific time, even if it was at the tail end of it. Still, before the war, humans and elves were at odds, afterwards, they became allies, and then slowly, for some reason that no one really knows, they grew apart. Elves and humans never became hostile to one another again, but it was clear that they were no longer allies and that there was some deep-rooted mistrust between the two races.

“Why don't they fix it? The king is clearly making more than enough money to do so."

“Yes, you are correct, but Ortho Dexan is a greedy man. Anyway, even if he wanted to, he couldn't. One day, a long, long time ago, the tower simply stopped ticking. Some of the greatest engineering and architectural minds couldn't even find out what was wrong with it. They say everything is perfect, that there is no damage or blockages, that it should be working, but every time they try to start it up again, nothing happens."

“Hmm, quite a conundrum," Myrra hummed. “A pity, I was hoping to hear it chime. Perhaps another time though. I still have several hundred years in me and I'm sure it will get fixed sooner or later. Or torn down, whichever comes first."

The rest of the flight was uneventful, but finally, they reached bay 6, located in the central tower of the palace. Two large docks stuck out of the alcove-like hanger, allowing larger ships like Myrra's to easily dock while smaller ones flew in and landed inside the hanger itself.

Once the ship was finally tied off and Kaster was sure it wasn't going to float away, Myrra ordered the ramp lowered so she could disembark. She, of course, was not going in alone, bringing both Tess and Venallia along with her. She probably could have chosen someone more… refined than Tess, like their medic, Esma, but the doctor has been busy this entire time, cooped up in her cabin and doing some weird medical studies. She wasn't sure what Esma was up to down in her cabin, but the doctor had informed her that she was on the brink of some ingenious, revolutionary, medical science and could not be disturbed unless vitally needed.

Kaster was not joining her for obvious reasons, the elf had no filter, and while Tess wasn't much better, she knew when to keep her mouth shut, unlike Myrra's gear nut friend. Plus, Kaster hadn't wanted to come, either way, preferring to stay onboard and tinker some more with the ship rather than tiptoe through the methodical etiquette and words games that royal courts and nobles played.

Once they made their way down the ramp and onto the docks, they were greeted by another official with a gaggle of servants behind her. A tall human woman with blonde hair and blue eyes and wearing a simple, though expensive dress that came down to her knees.

“Hello, and welcome to Idota!" She greeted with a curtsy. “I am Alice, the King's secretary, I have been personally assigned to welcome you and show you around till an audience with the King is available."

“It is nice to meet you, Alice," Myrra said, stepping forward, hands clasped together in front of her and slightly bowing at the waist. “I am Myrra Iyrafiel, the dignitary from the Elven Nation, and these are my companions—Venallia Everloose, my advisor, and Tess--" Only now did she realize she didn't know Tess' last name, by the seven hells, she didn't even know if Tess was her real name! It was fine though, Myrra had done this a thousand times, she was a diplomat after all, she had to be good at talking and thinking on her feet to survive in this kind of position.

“Tess Lorlay, my bodyguard," she finished, hardly missing a beat.

Luckily, they had discussed this earlier before they had reached the palace, and Venallia had stripped out of her armor and now wore a white suit with golden filigree in the shape of twisting vines and falling leaves running down from her left shoulder and along the sleeve. On her right, she wore a small, white shoulder cape, the inside a glittering gold. And to top the entire ensemble off, she had on a monocle, which Myrra only recently found out was not actually for show and was something the older elf needed for reading. She could have gone for a dress, but she seemed to hate the things just as much as Myrra did.

Tess, on the other hand, looked… well, like Tess. She hadn't bothered to change at all, remaining in her leather and mail armor, her infamous sword hanging at her side and two pistols holstered on the small of her back. Though instead of slouching or crossing her arms like she usually did, she stood straight and tall, standing a few steps behind Myrra with her hands clasped behind her back, looking all the part like a bodyguard that had seen action. The mercenary might have been brash, crude, annoying, and countless many other things, but she was good at her job and loyal to a fault once paid. Myrra was glad she was playing along, even if her two companions didn't know why they were really here. Though she has begun to suspect that Venallia has caught on.

“A pleasure," Alice says sweetly, “Currently, his Majesty is in a rather important meeting and won't be available for a little while. Shall I show you to the rooms we have had prepared for you, or will you be staying on your ship for the remainder of your visit?"

“Yes, a room would be nice. I have grown tired of the bunks on my ship, let us just grab our bags." She would have actually preferred to sleep on her ship, she liked her bunk and slightly hard bed, plus it would give her a sense of security. But she needed to be inside the palace if she was going to accomplish her true mission.

“Nonsense, let the slaves do that," Alice said in a chipper tone, clapping her hands twice. The group of servants behind Alice moved towards the ship, and it was only now that Myrra saw the dejected look in their eyes, the shackles around their feet that rattled as they walked, and a few that had metal collars clamped around their throats. Most of them, she realized, were Chimeras, their bestial ears sticking out of the top of their heads, and a few with tails peeking out from underneath the black and white servant attire they wore. There were a few humans as well, but what surprised Myrra the most, was that there was an elf among them. She was taller than everyone else, with golden hair tied in a bun and eyes of the same color, a collar wrapped around her throat.

She gritted her teeth, her hands balling into fists at the sight of it all, but she remained as demure as possible. Venallia, somehow, remained as stoic as ever, never even once giving the slaves a second glance. She had probably seen things like this several times and knew how to deal with it. Myrra could feel the heat of Tess' rage, and when she looked over her shoulder at her friend, she saw Tess' face light up red with anger, her teeth grinding against one another, the leather of her gloves squeaking as she clasped her hands tighter in an attempt to keep calm.

Myrra took a deep breath, calming herself. She couldn't let herself fly into a rage, not yet anyway. She had to find information first, and then once she meets the king, find out if he is the one behind all the chaos running rampant in Dexan. If so, then she could take her anger out on him. With her whip and any other deadly instruments she could get her hands on.

It was a good thing their bags were already out on the deck and not down below in their cabins. She wasn't fond of the idea, slave or not, of letting anyone who wasn't her crew roam about the place.

“Follow me, I will show you to your rooms, your bags will be brought up post haste," Alice said, turning and walking back the way she came.

They made their way towards the back of the hanger where an elevator car waited for them. Once the wire-frame metal doors opened, they stepped inside. Alice pushed the control lever up, switching it from where it was at “Level 6" up to “Level 10" and the lift began to rise.

Myrra had expected it to be a bumpy ride, most elevators were, but it was surprisingly smooth despite the rumbling noise it made.

“So, Lady Iyrafiel, what brings the elves all the way out here? I didn't think your people left their forest all that often," Alice asked, looking genuinely curious.

Myrra smiled at their guide, “We don't usually, no, but there have been certain circumstances recently that have required us to start leaving our Great Forest and branch out."

At that, the secretary stiffened, even if it was just barely, Myrra could see it. A smile remained plastered on Alice's face, but she could see the panic in her eyes. The girl thought they knew about the 'secret' invasion. Which they did, but she, of course, did not need to know that.

“You see, the Great Forest of Aelia has always been self-sufficient, sadly, however, with the increasing decay of the forest, large areas have become uninhabitable. Specifically, areas that contain a great number of raw materials and rich resources, resources we can no longer access."

Alice relaxed at that, the panic leaving her eyes. “So, you are seeking to trade with Dexan I presume?"

“Indeed, I can't go into too many details, I'm sure you understand, but the Elven Nation is in need of certain raw materials." Then, as an afterthought once Myrra saw an opening to feed both Alice and in turn the King, some false information, she added, “Of course, things have been rather difficult recently, what with the food shortages and almost our entire army trying to keep the monsters that the decay spawns at bay."

At her words, she could practically see Alice's eyes light up with victory, as if she had just discovered something important. She did not doubt that this woman would be reporting everything they have spoken about so far, directly to the King.

“Yes, I can see how that could cause some rather desperate measures. I'm sure, however, that you will find the King very open to any trade deals you would like to put forward," Alice reassured just as the elevator came to a stop with the chiming of a bell.

All four of them stepped out, Myrra and her companions following Alice as she led them down a long corridor. The floor was covered in a fancy, dark blue and purple rug, tapestries depicting the history of Idota hanging on the walls along with fanciful paintings. Vases of flowers resting on pedestals were located every few feet, and every once in a while they would pass a glass case holding some historic artifact.

Myrra had expected to see guards or servants or any signs of life really, but they met no one on their journey. Finally, Alice brought them to a stop in front of several dark wood doors.

“These three rooms will be your accommodations," said Alice, gesturing towards a row of three doors on her left. “Please, if there is anything you need or if the room isn't up to your standards, just ring the bell next to the door and a servant will be up here quick as a flash to address your every need."

“Thank you, Miss Alice," Myrra said gratefully, bowing. “It has been quite a journey and I'm sure we would all like to get some rest before our audience with the King."

“Of course," she responded, “I will let you know when the King is ready to receive you, till then, please enjoy your stay." And with one final curtesy, she was off, walking back down the way they had come and then out of sight once she turned a corner.

“So…" Tess said slowly, “What now?"

Myrra was about to respond when Venallia beat her to it.

“Now," said the older elf, giving Myrra a pointed stare, “I think it is time our Captain tells us exactly why we are here."

She sighed, rubbing her eyes. She had wanted to keep this a secret, even though she had told Kaster, but she trusted the half-elf with her life. That didn't mean she didn't rust Tess or Venallia, it was just that she has known Kaster longer than anyone. Asides from Viessa, but she wasn't here, she was back in Iysngrad getting the army ready to defend their home.

However, now that she thinks about it, she realizes just how foolish it would be to keep her real mission from them. Venallia was the ex-captain of the royal guard, she was loyal to the crown no matter what, and Tess, while a mercenary, was still an elf. The Great Forest of Aelia was her home, and Myrra was sure she would defend it just as much as any other elf.

With them in on the plan it could ease the burden she was carrying, Venallia was a warrior and much older than herself. She no doubt could provide fine counsel. Tess was a mercenary and a thief, if anything, she would be ecstatic to sneak around a heavily guarded royal palace and find dirt on the most important person in this kingdom.

Then there was Kaster, the best damn pilot and engineer she has ever seen! If they got into trouble and needed a quick getaway, then Kaster would be there to pull them out of whatever mess they had gotten themselves into.

Myrra hadn't had time to put together a proper crew, scrambling at the last minute to find anyone she trusted to help her on her mission. Unwittingly, however, she had managed to put together the perfect crew for her mission. Lord Ell must have blessed her with a smidge of good luck. She should ask her goddess to thank the newest divine for her. Then again, maybe not. Her lady was not all that fond of the youngest god, which is understandable, seeing as he was also the god of thieves and mischief. But surely he couldn't be all that bad? He also possessed the domains of luck and games, he couldn't be getting into trouble all that often.

Either way, she was grateful things have turned out so well.

“Very well, very well. But inside first," she sighed, glancing around suspiciously before whispering, “I have a feeling that these walls have ears, and I'd rather not be listened in on."

They both nodded, following her as she pushed open the first door. The room was quite opulent, the three of them entering into a small foyer or sitting room. On the ground was a massive rug of varying hues of blue, and to the right was a set of chairs and couches around a low table in front of a fireplace. Left of that were rows of bookshelves mainly for decoration rather than actual storage.

Straight ahead, through a large open doorway, was the bedroom. On the left was a four-poster bed with pristine white sheets and blue blankets with dark green accents. Next to the head of the bed were a couple of nightstands made out of what looked to be onyx wood. At the foot was a large chest, and on the other side of the room was a rather fancy desk whose feet were that of carved lion heads, and a rather comfortable looking chair resting behind it.

There was another door near the desk, most likely leading to a bathroom of some kind. However, straight ahead was a pair of glass doors that led out onto a balcony, thick, blue curtains flanking it on either side.

Surprisingly, Myrra's bags were already there, sitting near the door and waiting for her to unpack. She didn't question it right now, instead, she brought her companions over to the sitting area and took a seat in the nearest armchair. The two elves followed suit, sitting down in their desired places before looking at her expectantly.

“Now then," she began steepling her fingers, “Have either of you killed a King?"