A Spark in the Wind

Chapter 06: The Shadow Council

As the dawn approached, Meneldir and Vilyánur packed the elf's head in a sack and warped for Ostithil. Opening a portal from the concealed pylon in Vil's courtroom, they landed right in front of the capital district. "Great, that cost less mana than expected," said Vil.

Mey was surprised, "so anyone can walk into the capital district of the capital city if they know some basic spells?"

"No, only I do," said Vil, "the others have to use public pylons that warp you to an outpost outside the city, from where you can walk into the city and perform your duties. It is quite strenuous, but gets the job done."

"And you tell me about equality," Mey shrugged.

"I know the irony, but we have more pressing matters at hand, much beyond the concern of common citizens."

"That is true, let us make haste."

Slinging the sack over his shoulders, Vil trot up into the capitol, Mey following shyly, all the while looking around to admire the palisade of silver. Though for Vil it was just another day, Mey took a moment to seep in the beauty of his forest of stone, of which the most he had was a faint memory.

The lofty towers shot up into the sky like spikes of ice, the rest of the castle concealed behind a tall layer of walls. As they passed through, the guards stepped aside, allowing them passage through the windy path up to the courtyard of stone.

Once through the seven gates and three walkways that separated the castle from the city, they stepped into the garden where they first met – a wondrous site, unchanged by the demons of time. Statues and fountains dotted the garden, feigning its spirit bigger and livelier.

"It looks smaller than the last time I was here," said Meneldir.

"You were smaller too," said Vil, "although you're not to blame, I was shoulder-height to you, and now it's the opposite."

Mey chuckled, reliving the days of yore once again as he passed through.

...

Everything he saw around him was carved out of marble and moonstone: tall pillars held up lofty archways and aqueducts, various elven heroes carved on top of them, as if watching over the city. Looking to the east, Mey could see the half the city below him glimmering in the sunlight like a reflection of the ancient cities of yore.

He stood close to Vil, yet nobody seemed to be bothered by that. Senators walked around the keep, accompanied by high-ranking praetorian guards. As Vil walked by them, they bowed their heads to their lord.

"Lord Vilyánur," an elf approached, bowing low.

"Lord Felwin," Vil bowed back, in a somewhat shy and unexpected manner. "What a pleasant surprise!" Mey took a good glance at him and recognized the man – the traveller he met on the road two days ago.

"How goes your school? I feel ashamed not to have found spare time to pay a visit."

"Do not worry, drop by whenever you want to. Your health is a higher priority."

"Nay, I am much better than before, your medicines are playing their part."

"That is good," said the old elf, then turning to Mey, "so we meet again, Prince Meneldir, dear friend and comrade of Lord Vilyánur."

"Pleasure," Mey bowed, "what a small world we live in, whence we all know one another."

"You wanted to know how I knew of your royalty? As it turns out, rearing children from noble families for thousands of years develops your eyes for such activities, especially when a good fraction of these have the forte to conceal themselves as beggars or street urchins."