The early evening sun hovers just above the horizon, trying to keep the city illuminated for a little bit longer. Shadows, created by small suspended fires, dance within the palace like restless creatures grasping for something out of reach. Sounds of merriment are heard throughout, for it is the first night of the Fire's Festival. Music floats in the air, filling all those who hear it with enchantment. Many Lords have been invited to the Sultan's table to celebrate the special occasion, but there is one…unexpected visitor.
The Captain of the Guardians stops the visitor before he manages to enter the room. "Pardon me, good sir, but the Sultan is no longer taking audience. I must request you leave now."
"Step aside, soldier," the person snaps tersely. "This is a matter of utmost importance. I must speak with the Sultan immediately."
"I must as you to leave, sir," the captain says, more firmly this time. "I will escort you to your home."
"I have no place of residence on this planet." By now, all conversation at the table has ceased. Everyone has their attention to the unseen intruder. The captain set his hand on his blade, ready to draw it if the stranger gave him any trouble.
"Hold, Captain," the Sultan calls out in a surprisingly youthful and cheery voice. "Who is this? Let him come; all are welcome at my table." The captain hesitates only a second before stepping aside and revealing the late-night guest. The Sultan and his other guests peer curiously at the fine features of the Cazar gentleman. His fur is slightly paler than is natural of his race, and his eyes are sharp, the color of bright emeralds. He carries himself like a Noble or High Lord, keeping his shoulders back and making eye contact with everyone in the room.
He bends at the waist, right hand over his heart as a gesture of respect to the ruler, lowering his eyes only slightly. "Please, forgive my intrusion, Your Majesty, but this is extremely important." He speaks with an accent the Sultan cannot quite place. Perhaps he comes from up north, Brittania or Scotsand perchance.
"What is your name, traveler?" The Sultan addresses this man, for he claimed to not live in their great town.
"Darkstar," the Cazar enunciates clearly. "Artix Darkstar."
"From whence do you hail, Artix Darkstar?" The Sultan pronounces the name slowly, carefully. This man has certainly gained his attention.
"Regretfully, I do not take residence upon this glorious planet," Artix says. "I come from Capital City on Marcadia, Solanna Galaxy." Many of the guests begin to murmur amongst one another, the stranger certainly gaining any of the attention he hadn't captured at his arrival. So this man was from off-planet, was he? Perhaps he was a statesman, they guess, judging by his mannerism. But why, they wonder, is he on a desert planet such as their Deresan?
"Ah, yes!" The sultan nods. "I believe I have heard of it. I hear it is a beautiful place. They make quite the use of technology." The stranger nods, agreeing with the ruler. "Oh, please, do sit down, sir," the sultan insists, gesturing to the seat beside him. The stranger accepts graciously, sitting down in the indicated chair. "Now, I am curious, as I am certain we all are. Tell us, what has brought you to our humble city, traveler?"
For a moment, the Cazar is silent, thinking. "I saw a young boy in the marketplace this afternoon," he finally explains. "For some reason I find no explanation for, your soldiers accosted this boy and brought him here to your palace."
"A boy?" The sultan seems just as surprised as those others around the table. "Whatever do you mean, sir? I know of no boy."
Artix places a thoughtful finger on his chin. "I see."
"Would you care to describe him, sir? Perhaps my captain here will be able to identify him."
"Yes, he seems to be perhaps eight years of age. Sand-white fur, accented with black stripes most prominently found on his ears."
The sultan seems thoughtful. "Hm…yes, I might have seen a child like that at one point in time. Perhaps while I was wandering the market. There are so many in my kingdom, though, so I might not have seen one. What of you, Kairune?"
"Your Highness," the captain begins respectfully. "This stranger speaks of naught but a petty thief, a street rat."
"Rat?" The stranger snarls. Heads turn to him, but he takes a deep breath, regaining a small portion of his composure. "I will have you know, sir, that this so-called street-rat is of a nigh-instinct species," he explains tersely. "Lombaxes are known to be extremely rare in the galaxies. I have had the great privilege of seeing two other in my short time of life. It would be more appropriate that you feel humbled by his presence."
Those present blink in surprise. This had not been expected.
"I ask your pardon," Artix finally says. "I am…quite livid…when situations as this arise."
"Quite alright, good sir," the sultan smoothly replies. The tension in the room dissipates as normality is restored, and the conversation continues. "I am curious about your interest in this boy you have mentioned. I do understand his rarity, but I do not understand why he has taken your attention so swiftly."
"I spoke to an old friend of mine – he works here at the palace, I recently learned," Artix explains. "I asked of the boy's condition, and…well, I did not receive a positive report. I am troubled. Lombaxes may be resilient, depending on their upbringing and place, but they are not immortal."
"I assure you, Sir Darkstar, the conditions for our prisoners are tightly monitored by the Captain." The sultan slung his hand in gesture to the one he spoke of.
"Though I have heard talk of these 'conditions', sire, and I do not think they are up to the standard you believe they are," Artix says coolly.
"Sire, he is but a traveler. What would he know of our prison's conditions?"
"I speak from thoroughly investigated evidence. I advise, Captain, proving to your Sultan of the truth you claim to him." Kairune stands straight and stiff. Who is this man? How was it possible that he knew so much? Finding it the best option, he backs down, lowering his head to the Cazar respectfully. If he isn't careful, this Cazar could cost him his position.
Meanwhile, the sultan seemed thoughtful. "Hm…yes, perhaps I should inspect the conditions myself. That will be the first thing on my list. Young Mais, make a note of that."
A Nocturne boy that had remained silent in the corner, unnoticed, bows to the sultan. "Yi's, my liege. I'sha' be tak'n."
Artix takes notice of the boy, seeming to have slight interest in him. "You, boy. Please, come here." He beckons the young Nocturne with two fingers. The boy hesitates, though, looking to the sultan for assent. The sultan looks curiously at the Cazar guest, but calls to the boy. He rises to his feet, eyes firmly on the floor, and walks forward while keeping his hands clasped together in front of him. The Cazar looks over his slight frame with a critical eye before he finally speaks. "Your name is Mais, correct, lad?"
"Yi'sah." The boy's words are short, meshed together and hard to understand.
"And do you, Mais, know a young girl by the name of Mali?"
The boy's tension is obvious. "Y-yi'sah."
"What is your relation with her?" the stranger asks, though it seems to some that he might already know the answer. The boy opens his mouth to speak, but says nothing, instead wincing.
"Well?" the sultan inquires. "Go on, boy, speak up."
He tries, but is unable to speak for some strange reason. Artix beckons him closer, placing the back of his hand on the younger's forehead. Seeming a bit concerned, he slides his hand down to the boy's cheek. His head tilts slightly, blinking at a strange sight. Gently, the Cazar lifts the boy's chin, revealing a strange thing on his throat. "My, what do we have here, now…?" He squints at it curiously, the sultan also doing so.
"What is that?" One cannot say his tone was concerned, but more appalled.
Without so much as even a glance for response, the Cazar reaches into his coat pocket and pulls out a small vial filled with a thick golden-orange liquid. Still holding the boy's chin up, he removes the cap from the vial with one hand, keeping it a distance from the boy. Once done with that, he brings it close to the thing at the boy's neck, waving it slightly there for a moment before pulling it away.
The Cazar had not touched the object, but it falls from the boy's neck and moves, following after the vial of liquid. Those with stronger hearing were able to hear a distinct chattering sound. With a look of perhaps alarmed disgust, Artix snatches a tea cup from the table and places it over the moving thing. A slight tink is all else that is heard from inside.
Everyone sits in stunned silence but for Artix, who takes another container, empty this time, and captures the creature in it, sealing it tight. He brings it closer to him, giving it a scrutinizing glare before returning both bottles to his pocket. "What was that thing?" one of the Lords at the table asks, just as repulsed as his other companions.
"I believe," Artix says thoughtfully. "It may be a subspecies of Tetramyte. Nasty creatures. Native to Planet Lumos in the Polaris Galaxy. They will digest anything and everything they get their jaws on." He shivers slightly. "Nearly lost my hand to a swarm." He pulled down the sleeve of his right arm, revealing a patch of black, scarred skin. No fur had regrown in place.
"That's terrible!"
"I must admit, it would be a terrible way to die. I would personally rather die in an honorable fight that a cheat like that." He looked at the Lady who had spoken. "Did you know that the Argorians believe it to be the worst, most dishonorable way to die?" He shivers slightly with a disgusted sound. "I agree with them, wholeheartedly."
"How do you deal with these creatures?" One asked fervently.
"There are multiple ways of dealing with them, though one must know their weaknesses before actually handling such creatures. For example: The best way to start is staying in water. It doesn't have to be very deep, but Tetramites hate water to no end. They avoid it at all costs."
"Water? That would soil your clothes, though!"
"That is why you leave such adventures to the adventurers," Artix replies simply. "Now, to get past the Tetramites on land, I suggest using this." He removes the vial with the golden liquid. When asked about it, he replies, "This is Breegus Nectar. Tetramites swarm to it before all else. It takes at least a good minute for a swarm to consume a good portion, giving one the time to move around them."
"Amazing! And…you have practiced this?"
"Yes, I have, many times," Artix says, though not boastfully. "The first I encountered them would have been a disaster if not for a close friend of mine. He knew their behavioral patterns better than I do."
"Who is this friend of yours?" the sultan inquires. "He sounds to be an excellent teacher."
"Indeed. He is General Alister Azimuth, one of the few Lombaxes I have been privileged to meet. He lived during the time of the Great War, when the Cragmites held control of Polaris."
"I should like to meet this General Azimuth," the sultan says enthusiastically. "He seems to hold quite the reputation."
Artix frowns, seeming slightly tenser. "General Azimuth passed on some months ago." He keeps it well hidden, but somehow they are still able to tell that the subject was bothersome to him. They decide to drop it, moving on to other conversation.
A quiet hum draws the Cazar's attention back to the young boy. "Oh, yes, hard to forget you, boy. I believe you are well to speak now; the effect should have worn by now."
Without delay, the boy bends low at the waist. "My Lord, I thank you for helping me."
"Of course, dear boy," Artix replies. "I take care to help any I can." He glances at Kairune from the corner of his eye. "No matter who they are…or what their standing." The captain avoided the Cazar's gaze uncomfortable, shifting under his stare. After a few seconds, Artix returns his eyes to the boy. "Now, Mais, you said you know a girl by the name Mali?"
"Yes, sir," he replies. He has yet to straighten from his position.
"Please, Mais, look up. I consider you my friend, not my underling." Mais blinks. No one had called him 'friend' in a very long time. Biting his lower lip slightly, he stands straight, and – when beckoned by the Cazar – sits down. "How do you know Mali?"
"She is my cousin, sir."
"Her cousin, yes. I believe she mentioned you once. She is quite worried. You do realize she believes you to be dead, correct?"
He bites his lip again. Of course he knows that. It is assumed that every street urchin taken to the palace is sentenced to death. "Please, sir, I ask you tell her I am alive and well. I would be most grateful."
"Perhaps," Artix says. He looks to the sultan. "With your Sultan's permission, you could tell her yourself."
"You never spoke of a family beyond the palace walls, boy," the sultan says, deeming now to voice his confusion.
"My Sultan," Mais replies, turning to him and once again lowering himself. "The place given to me required I only listen, not speak. The matter is only trivial to my Sultan. I dare not speak of matters that would only waste the Sultan's time."
"Nonsense, boy." The sultan's tone is far from reprimanding, yet still Mais is tense. "Tell me more about your cousin." The sultan's guest are nonetheless surprised at the turn in the conversation. One moment, they had been speaking of Tetramites and adventurers, but the strange traveler has now called attention upon a mere servant boy, who is hesitating nervously. "Go on. Speak freely, boy."
"W-well…m-my cousin and I g-grew up together," he begins. "D-down in the slums…h-her parents died of fever, while…mine ran off to Allah knows where." Gradually, he calms down, his stuttering ceases, and he speaks as a natural story-teller. Nearly an hour later, he finishes his story, respectfully silent.
"You are a wonderful story-teller, young lad," the woman next to Artix states.
Mais bows. "Thank you, ma'am. I hope I have pleased all."
"Yes, such exaggerations were entertaining for certain."
"Nay, my lord," Mais replies, looking to the man across the table. "I have taught not to exaggerate. Glory is only good if it is true." The others at the table seem to agree with this idea, nodding their heads and smiling in approval. "You've quite the story-teller, Sultan."
"I never even realized." He turns his attention to Mais. "Young lad, I would much like to see this cousin of yours. You are to fetch her and bring her here tomorrow morning, yes?"
Mais nods eagerly. "Yes, my Sultan."
Artix allows himself a slight smile. The young Nocturne launches into another story for the guests while he speaks with the sultan. "Now. About the Lombax boy."
"Ah, yes. I suppose there is no harm in having you take him." He rubs his chin thoughtfully, rounded ears twitching slightly. "Might you care to receive him tomorrow? An hour past sun-high?"
"That would do nicely," Artix replies. "Though, I'm afraid I will be in an important meeting. I must speak with an old colleague of mine. If it pleases you, sir, I would have one of my charges pick him up." The sultan gives his consent. After another hour, Artix tries to stifle a yawn. "You must pardon me, Sire. I have grown weary. Much has occurred these past days."
"Oh, would you care to stay the night here, traveler?"
The Cazar brings up a hand, saying, "I am afraid I already have previous arrangements, but I thank you for your hospitality, Sire."
"My pleasure. I hope to see you again sometime."
"Of course." With a polite bow, the strange Cazar leaves.
"So…how'd it go?" Bane inquires.
"Rather well, actually." Ratchet takes a small sip of his tea. "I'm supposed to go get him in the morning." At his friend's confused look, he explains, "'Artix' has a meeting of some or another tomorrow."
Bane looks at him funny. "You're crazier than I remember…"
I meant to get this finished earlier, but I lost it somewhere between here and hell, so it's been floating in Limbo for the past month or so.
You all have RaylaOpal to thank for this update. Be thankful!
I'm gonna go now…I'm so tired...
Laters
F. N.
