During the lengthy trip to the Ivory Kingdom, there was little talk, much less than usual. Everything seemed different, awkward even, and every day they marched closer to the kingdom, the more their tensions rose.
After a few weeks of travel, they were just outside the Ivory Kingdoms walls, hidden well under cover of night. There was no campfire, no sounds, just them thinking over the plan in their heads.
Azrail remained perched on her shoulder, alert to the area around them, while the two sat side by side, silent.
Until, "We left your helmet up in the mountain, and you burned your cloth to allow us sight within the cave. Yet you've traveled all this time without it."
"I am aware." She responded gently.
"Here." Reaching into his pack, he pulled out a black cloth, "use this to cover at least the bottom portion of your face, for now. As for your eye..." He silenced himself trying to think what they could use, when Azrail jumped off her shoulder and began scratching at his side.
"Are you alright?" She asked him, when she noticed a scale popped lose and fell into the grass, though no bigger than a nail. Picking it up in his claw, shadows shifted around it until it grew in size. He then carefully bit into the top corner, then the bottom corner before passing it over to her. "Is this..." She took it looking it over.
"It will likely be noticeable, only by those who have seen my scale before. I'm sure the Ivory King will soon figure it out, so don't talk for too long before you attack."
"Thank you." She smiled and pulled a piece of string from her robe, tying it to the scale and placing it over her eye. "To both of you," she finished.
"Tomorrow is a big day, rest, you will need the energy." Azrail replied, so the pair laid down and found little sleep, too anxious and worried over what would happen come tomorrow.
In the morning, once they were all awake, having re-discussed the plans, she bound Reapers hands, got up on her horse and headed for the kingdom. Once through the gates, she held her head eye, watching as the castle began to tower over her. A pit of rage boiled in her gut as she came up to the castle's entrance and slowed to a stop.
Guards touched the weapons moving forward, "stop, no one is allowed to pass."
"My name is NaMara, I am wanted by the Ivory Kingdom for abandoning my post as a Black Hand." She said firmly, "before I turn myself over to the king, I wish an audience with him. I have a gift he is certainly going to love."
The guards looked at one another before their captain stepped forward, "you will remain here, under watch while we inform the King."
"I understand." She said remaining on her horse, watching the guard closely.
It was a while before a guard rushed up to the captain and whispered in his ear. To which the captain nodded, "dismount and follow. If you touch your weapons at all, we are ordered to kill you at once."
"As expected." She bowed her head and dismounted from her horse, allowing a guard to take the reigns and move him to the stables. She was led into the castle, with Reaper in tow, surrounded by guards, only complicating the matter.
The whole interior of the castle was beyond beautiful and showcased just how much wealth this kingdom had. All of it's masonry was built from beautiful marble and ivory, accents of golds in everything. Beautiful statues and paintings aligned the halls and along the walls, stained glass portraying various events or depictions of Ocarus filled most of the windows, enough so you'd confuse the place with the Kingdom of Faeth.
Her thoughts focused, as did her eyes onto the Ivory throne, as they moved into the open room. There, sitting on the throne was a man dressed in royal robes, all of white and gold, graying hair still showing sparks of blonde through them. A face she instantly recognized, and smiled to herself.