Untitled (suggest a title) Part 2

PART 3


The days that followed Shymoora’s discoveries were quiet and uneventful. She and Draven managed to find a comfortable medium between arguing and forgiving. They traveled in mostly silence unless one needed the other or wanted to comment on an object of interest they past why walking through the forests of Vedanya. It was obvious once they crossed the border of the great Bamu forest into the enchanted wood of Vedanya to Shymoora that her world was indeed one of wonder. The vegetation seemed to hum with life, pools of water glimmered with a mystical quality, that she later learned from Draven were replenishment pools for healers to draw magic from, and the animals seemed oddly aware of her.  Vedanya was beautiful, the climate was a bit cooler but the forest floors seemed to hold warmth, which made bedding down each evening a bit more pleasant.

As they set up camp for the evening one night Draven decided that it was past time to settle the rift that was growing between them. The next day would mark their arrival in Porni and then many truths would be uncovered, some of them painful. He also wanted to prepare Shymoora for her first visit to a large city. He watched her as she leaned over the cookpot to stir they supper, a flavorful stew call Comgatchi, made from forest rodent and gatchi root.

“Tomorrow we will reach Porni.” He said as he strode over to sniff the bubbling stew. “It is a very large city, full of scholars from all over Omon, the schools there teach various magics.” He added, hoping to peak her interest. He felt a surge of victory when she straightened and offered him a small smile. How like Brayah the girl looked, though her newly shimmering skin was inherited from Fairwyyn, a quality that all Omari women possess. He was amazed at how the atmosphere in Vedanya seemed to cultivate Shymoora’s Omari qualities, her eyes were now less round and more almond shaped, her skin had a luminous silvery shimmer, and her irises seemed to have a light to them.

“Really? I will learn there, right?” She asked in musical tones. How she had grown.

“Not in the schools no. However, where you are staying there are tutors waiting for your arrival, you will study under them. It is important that you get the full benefit of their teachings, you are getting a late start and there is much to learn. Don’t fear, you will have many chances to socialize, Porni is a very busy place and there are always celebrations to attend where you will be an honored guest.” Draven answered, giving her his rare dimpled smile.

Shymoora’s eyes honed in on that mysterious dimple again, she was always drawn to it, but could not understand why. Over the last months she had had ample time to study Draven, from his raven hair with streaks of silver to his tanned leathery skin. He was seasoned and strong, she began regarding him has her protector, secretly.

“I am excited and a bit apprehensive. I am not sure how to act in such a place.” She admitted.

“Not to worry, you will be given instruction on that as well if you like. This will be a time of learning and rest for you Shymoora, enjoy it please.” Draven answered.

Shymoora gave him a short nod. “The stew is ready.” She stated, ending their pleasant conversation. It was a wall, a well-constructed one, and despite his desire to rip it apart, Draven respected it. Soon enough they were seated around the cook fire eating in silence.

“The Comgatchi is perfect.” Draven commented around a mouthful of succulent meat.

“Thank you. It was Brayah’s favorite.” Shymoora replied with a small smile. She had taken to calling the fade Brayah rather than mother when speaking of her to Draven, something that had eased his discomfort considerably. In his mind Fairwyyn would always be mother to Shymoora. “Draven?” Shymoora began quietly.

“Yes?” He replied looking up.

“Did you know my parents well?” She asked, it was difficult for her, he could tell, and so he decided not to avoid the question this time.

“I did, very well.” He said.

“Was Fairwyyn very beautiful?” She asked, reminding him how much like a child she still was, despite her woman’s body.

“Yes, you look more like her everyday. She was kind and loving, and wanted you more than the air she drew into her body.” His voice was kind as he spoke, knowing that Shymoora needed him to understand her turmoil.

“And my father?” She asked.

Draven blinked, unsure of how to answer he set his bowl aside and crossed his ankles, providing himself with a few moments of time to think over his answer. “Your father.” He started but then didn’t know what to say. He was enjoying the peace between them, he didn’t want it shattered. “Your father is a warrior, as are most of the Ugla, well-respected and always needed some place or another. His journey is a long one, he does not rest often and when rest comes it is not for long. Yet he is content with his life I think.” Draven answered finally, satisfied with the information he offered.

“Did he love my mother?” Shymoora pressed. Draven frowned and sat forward.

“Very much so.” He answered. “I believe his heart still aches for her today and will for all of his life.”

“What is his name? Will I ever meet him?” She asked then, and Draven forced a chuckle at her insatiable curiosity.

“You will know him well. His name.,.” Draven turned his head to the right quickly and pressed his fingers to his lips indicating that Shymoora should stay silent. He craned his head and then stood and silently moved into the tree line. Shymoora watched in stunned silence as he disappeared, her hair prickling with awareness. What had he heard?

Draven returned moments later. “It was nothing I think.” He said as he sat down across from Shymoora. “The night is upon us, we should rest there is still half a days journey ahead before we reach Porni.” He instructed.

“Right. Thank you Draven.” Shymoora said as she curled up on her blanket.

Draven sat there watching her for a while as she slept, drinking in her appearance. “Sleep well child.” He whispered as he lay down to claim his sleep. His mind full of things long past and his heart aching for what he could never have.

<<You are nearly there my sweet. Such wonders lie ahead for you in Porni.>> Brayah’s face formed slowly in the midst of Shymoora’s dreams.

<<Mother?>> Shymoora called as her dream transformed into an oasis surrounded by gleaming water, there they stood, she and Brayah on the surface of glowing water, so calm it looked like lighted glass beneath their feet. The sky was the purest blue and all around them tiny globes of light  fell slowly, carrying with them the sweetest melody Shymoora had ever heard.

<<Yes dear?>> Brayah replied as she took her daughter’s hand and they began to walk along the water. All around trees made of crystal sprouted from the water pulsing with lavender light and shimmering like silver.

<<What is this place?>> Shymoora asked as she looked around with wonder.

<<This is the veil.>> Her mother answered matter-of-factly. <<Your fadling powers have grown strong enough to allow you to leave your body and travel here.>> She explained. <<No other has ever done what you are doing now.>>

<<But it is a dream.>> Shymoora rationalized.

<<Not in a real sense, but outwardly your body appears asleep.>> Brayah answered.

<<I see, I think.>> Shymoora said and her mother patted her hand.

<<It will become clear to you over time darling.>> She soothed. They stopped at a small island where a velvety blue chase and glass table awaited, upon the table were fruits that Shymoora had never seen before and two crystal goblets with glowing honey in them. <<Sit, tell me why you have come.>> Her mother beckoned. A gently breeze lightly nudged Shymoora forward until she sat on the chaise beside her mother. Brayah waved a hand and a goblet glided into it smooth. Shymoora was in awe at the powers on display but her mother’s words called her back. <<You came to me, it warms my heart, but why darling?>>

<<I do not know, I didn’t mean to.>> She answered.

<<Do not worry, you are always welcome. Tell me, was there something troubling you as you lay sleeping?>> Her mother asked.

<<My father…>> Shymoora answered. <<He lives and yet he does not seek me out.>>

Brayah flipped her hand, sending the goblet gliding back to the table and turned to Shymoora. <<His love for you is unending.>> She said.

<<Then why do I not know him?>>

Brayah offered a smile. <<You do, but he has his reasons for not making himself known yet.>> She offered. <<You must trust him to do what is right. Until then remember…>> She paused and placed her hand over Shymoora’s heart. <<You carry them in here with you always, even if you do not realize it yet, you know your family and always have.>>

Shymoora swallowed a whimper and nodded, closing her eyes against the tears that shone in them. <<Everything has been happening so fast. Now I am to begin my instruction, privately, and from there I know not what comes. It is a bit intimidating, and there is so much I still don’t understand.>>

<<Your path was never meant to be easy my love, but you will succeed.>> Brayah said as she pulled her quivering child into her arms.

<<Can I stay here with you instead, please?>> Shymoora whispered into her mother’s hair.

<<No darling, this is not your place, you have many great things to do, and many who are depending on you to do them. Try not to fear the future my sweet girl, welcome it, revel in what changes are taking place within you and around you. Drink in the wonders of your mortal world.>> Brayah answered, all the while cooing soft words of comfort and rocking lightly. <<Soon you will be a Blood Warden, one of the immortals of your world, and then your true journey will begin.>>

<<Immortal?>> Shymoora repeated sleepily.

<<Yes, it is your destiny, and so much more, only those chosen by the Blood Ritual will gain immortality, you will be one of those few.>>

<<How can you be sure.>> Shymoora asked, blinking against her sudden and consuming fatigue.

<<That is how your story is written…>> Her mother’s voice followed her into her slumber, a dreamless quiet and rejuvenating slumber.

The faint rumble of a storm woke Shymoora in the early hours of the morning; her mind was heavy with her vision of her mother and the place they were in. She replayed the conversation in her mind as she lay there motionless waiting for Draven to stir, what could her mother have meant? Was she really as significant as everyone believed?  There were far too many unanswered questions and a possibilities to ponder. She took a deep breath and decided to focus on the day. Perhaps after they reached Porni things would make a bit more sense than they did.

“Are you awake?” Draven asked, interrupting Shymoora’s thoughts. She rolled to her side to face him, searching his face for a moment as if it might hold some answers.

“I saw Brayah again, I was in the veil.” She offered finally, wondering if he might have some insight and testing his reaction.

Draven gave her a sleepy smile. “The veil is supposed to be very beautiful.” He commented easily.

“It is, I cannot begin to describe it.” Shymoora replied. Draven yawned as the brewing storm let loose another rumble in the distance and sat up scratching his head.

“ What did Brayah have to say?” He asked.

Shymoora followed suit and sat up as well, shaking the leaves from her loose hair and pulling it away from her face. It had grown long over the course of their travels and she almost always needed to comb the tangles free with her fingers now. “She told me of the Blood Ritual, well a bit at least, I think she was avoiding telling me too much. She also spoke to me about my father. She is so peaceful, it helps me to calm when I talk with her.” She answered.

“She cares for you a great deal. How could she not after all of the time you spent together?” Draven replied, as difficult as it was to admit, he knew Brayah loved Shymoora.

Shymoora stared at him for a moment. “Yes.” She said simply.

“We should move out, that storm is sure to slow us when it catches up.” Draven suggested as he stood and rolled the kinks out of his broad shoulders. Shymoora followed his lead and they began packing up their camp in silence. It gave them both time to gather their wits and prepare mentally for another day of travel in one another’s company. Soon enough they were on their way, walking through the forest as the creatures began to wake and serenade them with their tunes of joyous life.  Some time later Shymoora glanced over at Draven as they walked, he always seemed so solemn, She wondered at that for a while, was he naturally grim, or was there something dark he carried with him?

“Shensi?” She began.

Draven looked over at her and smiled lightly. “Yes?”

“Did you take the Blood Ritual?” She asked.

Draven gave a short nod. “I did.”

Shymoora fell silent for a few moments before she asked the real question. “How old are you?”

Her words caused Draven to come to a stop and turn to face her fully. He searched her face. “Why do you ask?”

“Curiosity?” She offered.

“Come now, that’s not it. What did Brayah tell you?” He said then.

“Please just answer the question, it is really not that important, I am seventeen, wait-“ She chewed her lip. “No, today I am eighteen.” She said with wonder, how could she not know that today was her age day?

“I know full well how old you are.” Draven answered gruffly.

“Well then?” Shymoora pushed the issue a bit further.

“Old.” Draven answered curtly and began walking again. Shymoora sped her pace to catch up with him.

“Alright.” She huffed. “Is it true that the Blood Ritual offers immortality?” She asked.

Draven sighed and rubbed his cheek. “For some, but not all.” He answered.

“I think that would be a lonely existence.” Shymoora commented thoughtfully. Draven looked over at her again.

“It can be.” He answered honestly. Their eyes met and for a moment there was a connection, something stirred within Shymoora, fragile and deep all at the same time and she grasped at it but it could not quite be reached. Draven felt it as well. It was a feeling of recognition that jarred the soul and caused Shymoora to gasp. He looked away quickly. Just as Shymoora was about to ask about the feeling the skies opened with a thunderous crack and the tears of the heavens began to fall relentlessly. The cool drops beat into their heads and shoulders, thundering on the dry forest floor and drowning out all thought and talk. Draven had never been so thankful for a storm in his life. Silently he sent his thanks to the water god.


Shymoora on the other hand was left to ponder what she had felt, and could still feel deep within her. She knew that her fadling blood was trying to tell her something, but what? Draven was certainly a major part of her life now, the only living being she knew and who knew her in a real sense. That thought was comforting and saddening at the same time. Yet it did not answer her question, what was that moment of recognition that moved almost tangibly between them? Was she beginning to feel tender emotions toward him? She scoffed at the thought, he was far too old for that, and while she did find him handsome, she doubted that this feeling was the result of some girlish infatuation. Then again she had never been infatuated with anyone before, so she could not be sure. She glanced at his soaking profile, a strong jaw, ageless silver eyes, he moved with so much grace she felt herself slightly jealous. He was definitely not a mere man and that thought sent an odd chill through her.

She forced herself to focus on the invisible link that was now connecting them to one another. In her mind she began to visualize it, a shimmering white chain of pure light that bound them to one another, it originated in her heart and twisted in the open space that separated them into his.

“Put away your fadling gifts Shy.” Draven warned. “It will become a beacon for those who might wish you an ill fate.”

Shymoora blinked rapidly suddenly aware of her sopping hair and squishing boots. The vision of the link dissipated into nothing and she felt the connection retract into her. “Ill fate?” She repeated absently.

“Yes, this is not the place to exercise your abilities.” Draven shouted over the pounding rain.

“How could you have known?” Shymoora asked.

Draven turned his eyes to her and she saw them gleam with a silver light. “I am not without my own.” He answered. “Now enough talk, we have a good way to travel before nightfall.” He ordered in a tone that left no room for argument.

The sound of nature unleashing its tears enveloped them as they continued in shared silence,Each one thinking of Porni and dry clothing. It wasn’t long after the rain stopped that they climbed the final hill and Porni came into view. Shymoora’s breath caught at the first sight of the massive city. It’s shining coppery rooftops stretched almost as far as the eye could see, the buildings were stone washed in white causing a shimmering gem like quality. Her eyes scanned the twisting roads that seemed to be packed with street vendors and citizens. Never had she seen so many people in one place at the same time.

“It’s beautiful.” She commented.

Draven laughed and pointed at one particularly large building with oval windows winking in the warming sunlight. “That is where we are headed. It is the home of Umdal Hansid, you will meet him once you are settled.

“An Umdal?” Shymoora breathed. “But Shensi, I am not fit to be in his presence, I will do something foolish and never live it down.” She worried out loud.

Draven made a rude sound and chuckled. “Your arrival has been long awaited Shymoora, Umdal Hansid would be thankful for your presence even if you went to see him covered in mud and speaking Shandlian.”

Shymoora reddened slightly. “I hope I don’t make a fool of myself.” Draven clapped a hand on her shoulder and gave her a little shake.

“Do not worry so much, today is your age day, you will dine with an Umdal, and tomorrow you will begin to learn under the most famous instructors in all of Omon, rejoice in your turn of luck girl.” Draven said. “Now, I am famished, let’s make our way to the Palace.

With her heart in her throat and her thoughts jumbled and wild in her mind Shymoora followed  Draven into Porni, mentally preparing herself for what lie ahead.


PART 4



“Umbal Hansid sends his regards and bids that you rest before preparation for your evening meal.”  A fine boned servant girl with wild red hair informed Draven and Shymoora upon their arrival. Shymoora however had barely heard a single word the soft voiced girl spoke. So preoccupied was she with her surroundings. Never in her life had she dreamed to see such extravagance as that she witnessed within the sparkling walls of the palace. The ceilings were as high as the mountains to the north and paintings of magic wielding woman were left overhead by a meticulous hand. The lighting within the great hall was miraculous in its self, thousands of shimmering crystals hung above them lit with twinkling sparks of mystic light, which she later learned were actually insects from the nearby forests. The floors gleamed white, polished until reflections of the pristine walls and ceiling could be seen, and all around them finely woven tapestries and expensive vases decorated the large space.

“Hmm, very well then. Thank you.” Draven rumbled softly, he was not exactly happy about the delay.

“I will lead you to your rooms.” The servant beckoned. Shymoora was still gawking when Draven gave her sleeve a tug and he grinned at her.

“Come along, you will have plenty of time to pay homage to the walls during your stay.” He teased. The comment drew a smile from Shymoora as well, but she quickly hid it behind a hand. The two followed the servant in silence to the second floor of the palace which was smaller but did not lack any splendor, the floors were covered in thick vibrant carpeting and the walls covered with richly colored wood adorned by well kept paintings. If the entry way and halls were enough to awe inspire Shymoora, her rooms left her speechless. She was left alone in the luxurious chambers after a short goodbye to Draven who followed the servant farther down the hall to his own rooms. Shymoora dropped her pack on the floor and spun, trying to drink in the sights around her, and the scent. The air was sweet with a spice she had never smelled before, it was very close to the scent of the icing her mother would pour of her fresh sweetbuns and left Shymoora’s mouth hungry for the tastes of home. The first room was merely for sitting she guessed, perhaps a reading room. It was littered with plush seating, all covered with burgundy fabric that begged to be caressed and small white tables with curving legs covered in gold. The walls were wood paneled and white with gold ivy painted along them to add a shimmering effect, and the white marble flooring was covered with a soft thick burgundy carpet. Instantly Shymoora kicked off her ragged leather boots and pushed her toes into the carpet with a sigh of satisfaction. She spun again with her arms outstretched and giggled.

Upon investigation Shymoora found the door leading to her bedroom. It was similarly decorated however in the center of the room was a massive and completely round bed shrouded by translucent red curtains and weighted with fluffy pillows of various shapes and sizes. Resistance was not an option, she took a running start and leapt toward the bed, diving through the opening of the curtain and landing with a sprawling bounce in the center. She hadn’t slept on a bed in so long she had nearly forgotten what a comfort it was. Pressing her nose into the bedding she inhaled deeply and shrieked with excitement into a pillow kicking her feet. After a few moments of just soaking in the comfortable bed she sat up and spotted a white and gold chest and matching table holding a mirror. Crossing the room she opening the clothing chest and gasped at the mass of colorful and expensively designed gowns. Her fingers slid over them with awe. They seemed to sparkle beneath her touch. Below each gown were silken slippers to match. “Oh my.” She breathed lightly. It was as she caressed the soft gowns that she noticed how dirt covered her hands were and yanked them back, not wanting the mar the lovely fabrics. Her nails were caked with mud and who knows what else. She gazed at her fingers with a frown. Back home she had prided herself on good hygiene, but on the road there had never really been any opportunity to bathe or even look at one’s self to know that care was needed. Her eyes touched the mirror. Slowly she moved to grasp it in her hand a lift it. As her face came visible in the unforgiving reflection of the mirror her bottom lip quivered. Her face was blotched and streaked from sleeping on the ground and being exposed to the harshness of the wilds. Her pale blonde hair was dull and matted with dirt and grease from lack of wash. Tears of humiliation slipped down her cheeks as she remembered the stares of the people in the streets that day as she passed. In contrast to this beautiful room she was horrid looking.

Perhaps it was the stress of all she had gone through, and even as silly as it seemed to care so much about her appearance she set the mirror down and sank down into the chair before the table and wept like a child. She was disgusting!

“Seri?” Came a shy voice from the door leading into the bedroom. Despite her desire to stop crying and look up Shymoora kept on sobbing and gawking at her dirty hands.

“I’m-hic-sorry, b-but just-hic- just look at me-hic- I’m horrid!” She cried as she looked up to see a girl near her age dressed in solid white flowing skirts and a gold and white laced bodice. Her hair was sleek black silk curling about her pale heart shaped face with brilliant blue eyes, delicate brows, and a perfect pink bow for lips. The sight of such perfection only caused Shymoora to weep louder with despair and covered her face.

“Oh dear.” The girl cried out empathetically as she rushed to Shymoora and took her hand. “Do not fret so, you have been traveling, anyone can see that, Seri.” She soothed in an urgent voice, her gaze darting to the door as she shushed Shymoora. “Come with me, we will get you fixed right up.” She urged, pulling Shymoora to her feet and leading her to a door behind them. The door opened to reveal a splendid white and gold bathing room, it was small but the floor its self was carved out into a large oval bathing pool, warm water was already winking in the tub covered in pristine white and gold tiles that shifted beneath the water with the light that shone into the colored class windows above. “See now.” The girl cooed and drew Shymoora into the room.

“T-thank you-hic-“ Shymoora gulped and wiped her tears away from her cheeks, reddening with the realization that she had just had a very silly break-down and it had been witnessed by this lovely girl. “I’m sorry, I’m just so weary, and homesick.” She explained between gulps. The girl patted her hand.

“Oh not to worry, it is completely understandable. You’ve come a long way and without any fine luxury.” She replied. “I will leave you to your bath, do you mind if I lay something out for you to wear afterwards?” She asked.

Shymoora shook her head. “No, not at all, I really wouldn’t know where to begin.” She admitted.

“Leave it to me.” The girl said with a smile as she stepped out of the room and closed the door.

Shymoora wasted no time stripping from her ragged clothing and stepping into the bath. The heat of the water surprised her at first, then she realized that the floor was heated beneath her. A feat that she could not quite figure out, despite her attempts.  Giving up, she grabbed the sweet scented soap off of the edge and worked it into a lather, it smelled of Solas flowers and sunshine. Her bath was exactly what she needed to sooth away the stress and disappointment caused by that horrible mirror lying on the table in her room. When she finally stepped out of the water she frowned at the murky liquid and shuddered at the thought that all of that grime had been on her. Just as she began looking for a means to empty the foul stuff there was a light knock on the door. “Seri V’raldii?” called a woman from the other side.

“Y-yes?” Shymoora answered, wrapping a large robe around her and pulling it close as the door opened to reveal a plump older woman with graying wiry hair and kind brown eyes.

“I am Estra, your maid, marm.” The woman greeted. “Well, just look at that water.” She commented as she brushed past a blushing Shymoora and pulled on a chain that came from the wall. The tub instantly began to drain. “You must feel much better, that terrible Shensi Draven should have allowed you more time to care for your needs than he did. The man has grown unaccustomed to female company me thinks.” She added, placing her hands on Shymoora’s arms and pushing her gently through the open door and into the bedroom. “Well, let’s get that lovely hair of yours dry, eh.” Estra suggested as she pushed Shymoora into the chair before the table once more and took to brushing her over long hair. “I have not had the privledge of caring for such fine tresses in a long while now, it is very lovely, and such length!” The woman commented with a chuckle. Even as the woman chattered on about her hair, her skin, her dinner with the Umdal, all Shymoora could think was – My maid?

Once her hair was perfectly dry and shining and the front pulled to the back of her head and clasped with a small gold pin the woman set to shaking out the deep sapphire gown the girl before had left lying on the end of the bed. Shymoora smiled at the gem-like coloring, so different from the pale airy colors her mother had chosen for her. It was beautiful and shimmered with silver thread woven into the delicate material of the bodice. To her surprise Estra stripped her of the robe she clutched close to her pink skin and whisked the gown over her head. The deed was done before she could even mutter a word of protest, though her flaming cheeks caused the older woman to cluck and chuckle. “Now don’t you worry Seri, tis my job to dress you and see to it that you are well cared for during your stay.” She explained.

“I would prefer to dress myself Estra,” Shymoora began but the woman shook her head.

“And how would you tighten these stays by yourself?” She asked as she moved behind Shymoora and pulled on the laces on the back of the gown, tightening the bodice as she did so.

“Oh…” Shymoora whispered.

Estra let out a small laugh. “Do not worry; you will grow used to it dearest.” She soothed. She did however allow Shymoora the pleasure of pulling her slippers on and lacing the blue ribbons up her calves alone. “What a lovely picture you make Seri, why the palace will be full of whispers this eve me thinks.” Estra said as she motioned for Shymoora to stand before a full length mirror. As she did her breath caught at the vision she made. She had somehow grown from a doe-eyed girl to a regal woman over her journey and nearly found her reflection strange to her. The shape of her eyes had changed, and they looked almost as if they were glowing, her body had gained a significant amount of womanly curve and her face was less round. A loud knock at the door broke the spell over her and she twirled around. “That be the Shensi to collect you me thinks.” Estra rolled her eyes and tottered out of the room. Moments later she heard the woman giving Draven an earful about his lack of consideration in getting her to the palace.

“Perhaps I will send you to claim the next girl then old woman.” Draven countered.

“Aye, t’would make you a mite too happy to send me off into the wilderness.” Estra replied.

“Oh how you know my heart dear Estra.” Came Draven’s reply.

A final glance at her reflection and then Shymoora stepped into the sitting area, closing her bedroom door behind her with a loud thud. She stood motionless as Draven turned to her. For a moment she couldn’t read the expression on his clean shaven face. He too had taken advantage of the luxury at their disposal and bathed and changed into another of his customary black ensembles, however with tufts were peeking out of his sleeves and his boots shown. His scabbard was polished and the hilt of his sword seemed to wink in the light. He swallowed and then cleared his throat.

“I see you’ve settled nicely.” He commented. Shymoora just nodded. “Good, well we should get to the dinning hall, Umdal Hansid will not be kept waiting.” He added and offered his hand. Shymoora searched her brain for what to do, then it came to her, she remembered seeing a painting in the hall of a couple walking down a curving path side by side. She lifted her fingers to his wrist and moved beside him. He smiled at her, clearly impressed. “And we’re off.” He murmured lightly, sticking his tongue out at Estra as they past.

“On with you, you mongrel.” She cursed with a chuckle. With that the two were in the hall marching toward the stairs, the closer they got the tighter Shymoora’s stomach felt. When Draven stopped and pried her hand off of his wrist she realized she had been digging her nails into his flesh.

“Nervous?” He asked.

“A bit.” Shymoora answered in an airy voice.

“Don’t be, you are a guest of honor here, they are glad just to know you are safely within these walls.” Draven answered.

“But I am afraid I will make a fool of myself, I’ve never dined with anyone of any social significance.” She replied.

“Follow my lead and you will be fine.” Draven said with a warm smile. “Besides, everyone will be so enchanted by you that they won’t notice if you use the right fork or not.” He added as he took her hand and placed her fingers back on his wrist. He led her down through the great hall and up to a massive door where a stiff collared servant stood waiting like a stone. “Shensi Falin Draven and Seri Shymoora Eluena V’raldii.” Draven told the skinny bald man, who nodded and opened the doors, allowing a low buzz of conversation and a warm rush of air to escape, carrying with it the scent of succulent meat and fresh vegetables. The servant stepped inside before them and Shymoora watched him lift a small gold bell and ring it three times. The tinkling chimes were followed by immediate silence and then the sound of chairs scraping and skirts swishing.

“Shensi Falin Draven and Seri Shymoora Eluena V’raldii, Most High.” The skinny long-legged servant called out. As if on cue Draven lead Shymoora forward into the room where she was met with at least a dozen sets of curious gazes. Draven pulled her into a bow with him and then straightened. Holding his head high he moved them forward still until they came to the Umdal Hansid, who was surprisingly young. The Umdal was tall and broad, his skin was tanned much like Draven’s but it was golden and free of lines of age. He smiled brightly at Shymoora as she took in his crimson velvet attire and Draven removed her hand from his wrist and settled it upon the Umdal’s waiting arm. The Umdal turned to his guests and boomed in a loud voice.

“Please welcome my most honored and-“ he looked over Shymoora for a moment before winking”-exceptionally lovely guest. May she find our comforts to her liking.” Everyone clapped and in her confusion Shymoora managed a sweet smile and tipped her head in thanks. She was quite taken aback by the warm reception but welcomed the kindness all the more.

“Thank you.” She murmured quietly, she could feel the blush flaming on her cheeks and lowered her eyes.

“Thank you.” The Umdal replied and nodded to Draven who stood behind them. “I would like for you to sit with me as we dine Seri, would you do me that honor?” He asked, motioning to the empty seat on his right.

“Of c-corse.” Shymoora answered timidly glancing back at Draven who simply gave her a curt nod. As they claimed their seats Shymoora looked about for Draven and frowned when she caught sight of him at the other end of the long table, already deep in conversation with a woman to his left. She sighed and looked down at the plate and several utensils before her. Just as she was about to lift one of the five forks to investigate an arm came around and set a bowl of scented water before her and a little napkin on the table beside it. She looked up and around and noticed people were dipping their fingers in the bowls before them and dabbing them on the napkin to dry them. Cautiously she followed suit and smiled at the people who nodded her way as she did. A small victory.

It was sometime into the meal when the Umdal leaned over and murmured to her. “Are you not hungry dear?” Shymoora looked up and shook her head, feeling his amber gaze burn into her own cool green one. “I cannot help but notice you have not taken a single bite all eve.” He added, still murmuring so that no one would hear the exchange.

“I- well its just that I’ve never dined with so many different courses or utensils…I find myself at a loss.” She admitted quietly, trying all the while to control her blush as she did so.

“Ah, I see, well let me tell you a little secret dear, I am the Umdal and I have yet to learn all of the rules.” He replied with another wink. “See this one.” He pointed to a gracefully curved fork with three prongs. “I simply use it for everything, it is my favorite, no one ever comments on it.” He added.

“Yes but you are the Umdal, no one dare comment on it. I on the other hand may never live down such an error.” Shymoora voiced her worry and received a pat on her hand in return.

“Perhaps, but I would not have you starve at my table dear. Here, I shall feed you myself.” The Umdal suggested.

Shymoora could not help but giggle at the outlandish suggestion. She had thought he was teasing until he popped a mouthful of buttery vegetables in her mouth with his fork. Her eyes widened as she closed her lips over the bite in surprise. She chewed and dabbed her napkin on her lips then set it aside. “I’ve learned my lesson.” She chuckled softly, and the Umdal nodded with a wide grin. “Thank you, Most High.” She murmured shyly. After the rather awkward exchange concluded Shymoora looked about the table trying to gauge what utensil others were using before she lifted the one that looked most like it and began to pick at her fowl. A nagging pricking on her neck brought her head up to see the raven haired girl from earlier that day glaring at her. She was seated to the Umdal’s opposite side and looked very unhappy with Shymoora.

“I see you have recovered from your trying afternoon.” The girl commented with an overly sweet tone as she pinned Shymoora with a heated stare.

“Y-yes, thank you, you left before I could thank you properly, Seri.” Shymoora replied nervously but kept her smile firmly in place.

“You are very welcome, however I am not normally addressed so commonly, Seri V’raldii.” The girl replied.

“Oh dear, I had forgotten cousin.” The Umdal interjected. Shymoora’s eyes widened. “Seri V’raldii please allow me to introduce my cousin’s daughter Shida Mirriam Hansid.”

Shymoora lowered her lashes and gave a slight nod. “Forgive me Shida, it is a pleasure to meet you formally.” She corrected herself and was rewarded with a gentle pat from the Umdal.

“Do not worry yourself over it, you could not have known.” He reassured.

“Aside from the plain fact that I am seated beside you.” Mirriam muttered then looked straight at Shymoora. “In case it escaped your notice, with the exception of you my Cousin’s table is arranged according to rank.” She added. “Though no one could blame you for not understanding the concept.” Shymoora opened her mouth and then shut it again frowning. Perhaps the girl from earlier had a twin, because this was most certainly not the kind lady from before, and she wondered what had caused the girl to look upon her so glaringly.

“Mirriam, you forget yourself, you will treat our guest with the utmost respect.” The Umdal warned in a low voice so as not to gain the attention of the other guests. Mirriam sat forward and snorted at the Umdal.

“Pardon me Cousin for not falling all over myself to please her as you have.” She hissed. “You shame yourself with this-this commoner.” At her words the Umdal’s fist came down on the table with a thud that rattled the china atop it and everyone stilled and looked in his direction.

“Leave my sight.” He seethed at Mirriam who shoved herself away from the table and stomped off without another word. Umdal Hansid turned his attention to his guests and bid that they continue their meal. Once the conversation picked up again he placed a hand over Shymoora’s and squeezed. “I apologize Seri.” He murmured softly and looked at her with the sweetest gaze.

“No, Most High, it is I who must apologize,” Shymoora replied in a woeful tone, wishing she could simply shrivel away into nothing.

“No blame can be set upon you my dear. Let us enjoy the rest of our meal without another word on the matter.” He replied and Shymoora nodded, all too happy to comply with that order. In fact the rest of the evening meal progressed pleasantly with idle chat and a wealth of attention from the Umdal, Shymoora almost felt as if she were welcome and wanted there. Her mind didn’t return to the ugly exchange between the Umdal and Mirriam until Draven escorted her back to her room.

“What was the cause of the Umdal’s displeasure this evening?” He asked as the stopped inside the sitting area of her chambers.

“The Shida Hansid was displeased with the amount of attention the Umdal was showing me, she likely felt that he should have been more generous to the rest of his guests, no one can blame her really.” Shymoora answered.

“Ah, yes I noticed his fascination as well.”

“Fascination? Shensi you are sadly mistaken, he was merely trying to ease my discomfort.” Shymoora argued.

“Perhaps, but not likely. You noticed the Umdal is a very handsome and young appearing man. He is also unwed. Perhaps you should try not to be so outwardly appealing from now on.” He commented grumpily. Shymoora gaped at him and then drew her mouth into a hard line.

“Are you suggesting that I encourage the Umdal’s attention?” She asked.

“Not intentionally.” Draven answered with a shrug. “Just, guard yourself.” He added. “I do not want to learn that you have been tricked into becoming less than what you are meant to be by allowing the Umdal to set his sights on you.”

“What if he did?” Shymoora scoffed, not truly entertaining the thought of becoming the Umdali but wondering why the thought would cause such a rise in Draven. “Surely there are worse fates than becoming an Umdali, and I cannot think of such a position that would be more acceptable, though it is not at all what I desire.” She countered.

Draven’s bark of laughter caught her by surprise, and then he gave her a hard cold look that nearly frightened her. “He would not claim you as his Umdali little Shymoora, but something with much less respect. I doubt it is a lifemate he sees in you.” Draven finished by raking his eyes over her to push his point.

Shymoora gasped. “I would never allow myself to be pulled into such a tangle!” Shymoora stomped to emphasize her anger. “How dare you think me so easily persuaded!?”

“I pray you are not. Good night.” Draven replied with a frown and opened the door again. He closed it painfully softly and Shymoora held her breath until she could no longer hear his footsteps as he retreated. Then she was left to ponder his words and go over the events of the night with careful attention. Had she encouraged the Umdal?