Thyzlr

Undiscovered

Mallory looked up at him, her deep blue eyes wide with confusion. "What? I... guess? where are we?"

Darby struggled to find an explanation, luckily, he didn't have to.

A tall, broad-shouldered man strode into the room, his presence felt intimidating and commanding, despite looking no more than a couple of years older than Mallory herself.

He had a face carved from marble, with high cheekbones and lips that curved at the end in a good-humoured smirk. His silver hair brushed his eyebrows, giving ample attention to his long lashes. 

Mallory flushed, she shouldn't be appreciating this stranger's good looks when she could very well be in danger. 

The man turned to face Mallory, his dazzling, ruby eyes arresting her soul. 

It was as if she was peering into a frozen lake that reflected the benevolent sky, opening up its cloudy stitches and oozing out the thick, warm blood of a sunset onto its icy surface.

 She felt like she was being observed through a magnifying glass, scrutinised like an unknown specimen.

And then it suddenly clicked.

"Y- you're not human, are you?" Mallory paled, her trembling fingers gripped tightly onto the covers.

The man threw his head back and erupted with laughter, the sound deep and rumbling. He brushed a fair strand of hair behind his ears and shot her a toothy grin.

"No," he smiled, "I am Ethar."

"What? you're an 'Ethar?'"

"That's my name," Ethar coughed, "Forgive me, it's been a long time since we last had visitors. We do have a name for our kind, but there is no definite word for it in the human tongue. I suppose you would call us aliens? or wizards?"

Mallory glanced at Darby, who was sweating; he definitely spewed all that nonsense to Ethar. She couldn't believe it, sure standing before her were extraterrestrial beings, but wizards? seriously? there was no way they could perform magic.

...Right?

Mallory fiddled with her fingers, and then paused, "Wait... How come you can speak English?"

"Oh, is that what it's called?" Ethar smiled sheepishly, drawing a chair forward and sitting on it as if he was getting ready for a lengthy conversation, "Well, you're currently on the planet Thyzlr, and our kind is gifted; this gift is a power, a magical ability that is randomly assigned upon birth. I have been blessed with the gift of speech, meaning I can communicate with any breathing organism I wish."

For a moment, Mallory was speechless; she just stared at Ethar, her mouth agape like a fish plucked out of the sea. Then she remembered what Darby had said, 'Healed'... Thoughtful, she scanned her arms for any wounds...

Nothing.

Her skin was unmarred; Mallory frowned, surely she would have attained some injury? after all, she did survive a shipwreck in space. "Was I healed... Magically?"

"Yes," Ethar replied, "By Miss Gwenore, I suppose you could say she's our Royal physician," he waved a hand in Gwenore's direction, standing behind him and beckoned her forward. Gwenore was tall and spindly, with faint green hair tied up in a tight bun.

"Hold on, Royal?"

"Did I not tell you? I'm Prince Ether, sole heir to the throne and future ruler of the Aechmea Empire."

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The Empress' chamber was a grand, luxurious room, fit with pillars of spiralling gold, scarlet walls with traditional mural art painted meticulously by great artists, and short steps that led up to the Empress' expansive bed, which was obscured by deep, juniper-green drapes.