Muarim took a look around, and the look must have been rather incredulous, because Lethe snickered. Everywhere, giant trees loomed, their branches laced with shops and homes. The dirt paths that served as streets were lined with vendors and craftsmen. Racks of freshly cut meat hung in strips, blood dripping from their red veneers. Other shops were open with their goods on sale: potters, florists and even those who sold strange beorc trinkets. There were those that sold clothing, woodcarvers, booksellers, storytellers, soothsayers , and all sorts of folk. And every single one that he could see was a laguz. It was dizzying. He had never seen so many in one place. And they all went among their own business as beorc did in Begnion.
"I'm hungry. We should get something to eat before we go to the palace," Lethe decided.
She wove through the crowds in the street until she came to a giant yellow tent. Whole animals hung from racks near the roof. Stumps were arranged around like chairs and tables to allow one to eat. There was a smoking oven of some sort in the corner behind the tree-made counter. A rather portly tiger laguz with greying whiskers sat next to it, eyes closed in either sleep or concentration. Lethe ordered two 'regulars'. Muarim was unsure of what to think of this.
"Go ahead and sit down, it'll probably take him a while to cut it," Lethe commanded.
Muarim found a stump and sat. He continued to absorb his surrounding with fascination. The city was so sophisticated, yet the buildings were made of such primitive materials. There was no fancy brickwork or stone, but the organic twists and shoots of the trees and vines that made everything up shone like craftsmanship themselves. There was no need for decoration, because bright blooms of all kinds grew on every surface like brilliant flames of color.
A loud slap on the table stump startled him. In front of him was a giant, bloody piece of meat. It was marbled over with clots and bits of fat, and reddened juice dripped off of it onto the wood. It was of indeterminable origin. Muarim watched with grim fascination as Lethe sank her teeth into the red, fleshy meat. Juice dribbled down her claws, and she ate with ferocity. He took his strip of meat daintily in one of his hands, observing it. Lethe looked up at him, still chewing.
"What, aren't you hungry? This is the best stuff. I've been dying to get fresh food ever since I started eating with the beorc. They have the urge to char every drop of blood out of a good kill."
Uneasily, he took a bite out of the meat. It was tougher than he had expected. Watching Lethe tear through it, he expected it to be as soft as peach flesh. The blood dribbled through his mouth. The taste was very different than that of cooked meat...and by different...
Muarim started to feel a bit queasy. He set the meat down and wiped his hands.
"What? Is that all you're eating? You're a tiger! You'll waste away if that's all you'll have..."
She then took note of his pale visage and slumping posture. She sniffed. "Don't tell me you've never eaten raw meat before."
He just stared at her.
She exhibited a look of disgust. "Are you serious? I was making a joke!"
"I do prefer my meat at least a little cooked."
"But that ruins the flavor!" Lethe looked very indignant.
"I'm sorry. I've been raised on cooked food my entire life. I'm not used to this texture and flavor. It's a little too much for me to stomach."
Lethe frowned. "Oh, very well. I'll have him roast it up for you."
"Thank you, Lethe." A hint of a smile crossed Muarim's face.
"Yeah, yeah. I'll get your meat burned for you. No need to thank me."
Once it was cooked, Muarim found the meat to be very tender. Lethe hadn't lied about the quality.
"Well now, if you're done filling your stomach we can move on to more important things." Her intonation made it seem as if Muarim was the one who had complained of being hungry. This was not an uncommon phenomenon in the way that Lethe spoke.
The palace itself was even more amazing than the city around it. The building was square and had a very wide base. The levels of it were terraced, with numerous windows on each one. Wild brush grew around it, carpeting the rustic entrance with numerous wildflower blossoms. The building appeared as natural as the flora growing around it, as if it had been carved from the ground, though it was obviously made from cut stone.
"This," explained Lethe, "is where I work. I serve as one of the king's highest. As you know, I'm a magnificent soldier, but I'm also train new soldiers here."
"I'm sure you love that job."
"Of course I do! That goes without saying. Anything that allows me to serve the king and use these claws at the same time...a laguz couldn't as for more."
As they walked in through the giant open hall, soldiers posted on both sides greeted them.
"Commander Lethe, hero of the war! Welcome back. We rejoice to see you home safe."
"You should really put more faith in me. I wasn't going to come home dead now, was I?" A catty grin crossed her face.
"Of course not! We trust you, as our venerable king does!"
"That's enough sweet talk. I have things to do." She strode past them into the vastness that awaited. Muarim followed, taking in the sites of the grand building. Through a maze of corridors, they came to a wide open courtyard where a large number of young laguz were lined in rows, performing exercises. The order of this was quickly interrupted. The excited young students ran towards her.
"Commander Lethe! You've come back!"
"Commander, it's great to see you again!"
"Commander, you have to teach us all that you've learned! We need to know!"
When Muarim entered the field, many pairs of eyes turned to him. His tall, imposing stature tended to dominate many areas, even wide open courtyards. He heard whispers.
"I bet this guy fought in the war too."
"Wow, look at his arms. I bet he can tear beorc limb from limb if he wants to."
"He probably did."
"Soldiers, this is Muarim. He fought along side my troop during our War of Crimean Liberation. I brought him here to show him what we do here. Now let's see some action! If you went soft while I was away I will toss you out like prey and turn you into meat!" Her voice surged into a scream. The young beasts quickly went to work breaking into pairs and demonstrating their combat prowess. Lethe watched them all with a very observant eye. After this had carried on for a long enough while, she cried "Peace!".
All the young warriors stopped immediately and faced her.
"You haven't gotten terrible, but you haven't improved much either. You better whip it into shape." She rested a claw on her chin. "For now though, I will let you go early. Just for today. You're going to be working it tomorrow. Hit your bunks."
They all stood rigid and strode double file into an adjacent door of the courtyard.
After they had left, Lethe gave a proud grin. "They're all much improved from where they were before this. You have to keep them feeling inferior though, for them to feel the motivation to improve. It's the only thing that will keep them consistently fighting."
Muarim rested a hand on his chin. "I'm impressed. I had no idea that you were such a profound leader in your army."
"In Gallia, the strong make the strong. It's my job to keep our country safe. I'm going to do anything in my ability to see that happen."
"Is that your meaning in life?"
He caught Lethe fairly off-guard with his question. She scanned his face. "What kind of question is that?"
"I mean...is serving your country the prime factor in your life? What you live for?"
"Well...yes. But it isn't that simple. I live for myself, too. I have more than one motivation in everything I do. Most laguz do."
"I see."
"Why do you look so unhappy?" Lethe questioned. "You're always so quiet and serious. Try living a little. It will do you a lot of good."
"That's what I came here for. You said..."
"Well then do it! Grrr...I can't do it for you." Lethe looked very frustrated, her tail twitching in an irate manner.
"It's just going to take me a while to adjust to all these new changes. You had troubles living with the beorc, did you not?"
"Well, of course. The way they live is completely different than we do in Gallia."
"Like it or not, I come from that world, though I am truly a laguz. I was treated as a sub-human...but I still had to live the same way any beorc did there. I cannot suddenly revert to the ways laguz are supposed to live."
"Grr...I suppose. I'm sorry, then. I'll try to keep that in mind."
The rest of the day was filled with tours of the palace and revered meetings with many high laguz of Gallia. By the time it had all ended, Muarim was exhausted. As sunset drew, Lethe walked him to the path towards his house.
"Mmm, yes. I know where I am now. I can follow the path myself. Thank you for everything, Lethe."
"Yes, well...I would feel better if I made sure you got there."
Muarim let out a chuckle. "You treat me like a kitten! I could smell my way back even if I could not see. What do you think is going to threaten a tiger like me?"
Lethe snarled. "I was...being polite! Don't talk to me like that!"
"I'm sorry. It seemed amusing to me."
She let out a low rumble. She was pleased, though, to see a true smile across his face. The green slashes on his face accented his smile a lot more than his frown.
When they had arrived at his house, they said their farewells. Muarim climbed into his bed and fell soundly asleep, exhausted from the sights and sounds of the day. Lethe, however, leaped silently into a tree outside and watched him through the wide open window in the wall in front of his bed. She liked to observe things. Muarim was definitely a thing, and she wanted to observe him.
Her glittering lilac eyes took note of the obvious and the detailed. Muarim was large. Even in her years of serving Gallia's military, she had never seen a tiger on so grand a scale. Not only was he of a great height, but every part of his body seemed to ripple with muscle. His arms were especially brawny, and she knew they were as mighty as they looked. She had seen him lift copious amounts of weight with less than a shrug. On the battlefield, she had seen him crush opponents with great, heavy swings of his paw.
Unlike many of the rather brutish giants she had known and served with, Muarim had...an aesthetically appealing face. He was actually quite handsome, she conceded. She noticed the curve of his stripes on his face. They were bold. They were strong. They shouted that he was a great tiger laguz.
His beautiful stripes cradled a frown. It seemed that his lips were always pressed downwards, like he bore the world in his arms. Not that it would be a hard task for him, she thought to herself, amused. She was still confused by his apparent self-hatred. He was such a fine, strong specimen of laguz. How could he be so ashamed and so afraid of who he was? He was no beorc. He was no weakling. And yet he treated himself so. It was a conundrum to her. Almost any male laguz would be jealous of him. How could he feel inferior to anyone?
With a discreet swish of her long, ginger tail, she fled into the night with no more noise than a light breeze through grass.