Jessica looked disappointed. “That’s all you have to say about Zer’vhean?”
“Zer’vhean? No, this happened on Sa’leeon, which reminds me . . . Jessica, I want you to listen to the following very carefully.”
Startled by his sudden serious tone, she only nodded.
“Should we ever be separated for whatever reason, make your way to the Dale of Echoes. There you will find a yethlo ferryman called Talvirnia. Tell him I sent you and that he should take you to Sa’leeon. There you will meet Lathrion, an acquaintance of mine. Tell him that he is to take care of you. He is certain to resist at first. When he does, just tell him that you are there to claim the boon he owes me. He will know what it means.”
“But—”
He waved away her objection. “I do still have some living enemies, and all of them are ruthless. Do not worry; this is only if we are ever separated. Lathrion will be able to keep you safe from any who would wish you harm. This way, I’ll at least know where to find you. Do you remember everything? Should I repeat anything?”
Jessica shook her head and looked out the window, the multitude of questions she had wanted to ask about the dragons now forgotten. Instead, her mind’s eye warped the passing trees, bushes, and tall grass into sinister monsters concealing those who would wish to separate them from each other. She moved to sit next to him as the air seemed to have gained a sudden chill.
Erana’s splendour proved
a sufficient distraction for Jessica’s worries. Its buildings were constructed from hekishoku-reikon, like in Larin and Hallion. However, Erana’s structures towered high into the sky. The gigantic edifices seemed to be connected to each other on every floor by walkways, and Jessica could not help but wonder whether magic was involved in the construction of these gargantuan buildings.
“It almost seems like a colony of ants,” she said as she stared at the seemingly unending flow of people moving between the towers.
“That it does. You should be grateful that we are using the Imperial Highway. It can be quite overwhelming to travel the common roads when one is not used to it.”
She recalled when they entered Erana through the city gate, they had turned into an unusually well-guarded avenue. “I was wondering why we passed so few people even though the city is so busy. Is there something special about this road?”
Killmar smiled. “Only those of royal decent may use the Imperial Highway.”
“And if you use it and you are not royalty?”
“Well, it is unlikely that anyone would be able to, but if caught, they would be executed.”
“Executed?!”
He stared at the towers as the noon sun fed their stonework. “Despite the fact that Erana is effectively governed by the Mages’ Guild, it is still the capital of the Empire and ewiens do not tolerate anyone disobeying their monarch. If the Emperor declared today that apples should no longer be eaten, every last ewien in Cortast would not touch an apple for the rest of their lives. And they would do their best to deter others from doing so within the borders of the Empire.”
“That’s . . . very strange,” she said, trying to be as culturally sensitive as she could manage.
“It has its benefits,” he answered absently. “Incidentally, I hope you are not afraid of heights.”
“Why?”
He gave a mischievous grin as he opened the window and pointed downwards.
She glanced out the window at the declining city streets. “Are we climbing a slope?”
“Lean out the window. Don’t worry; I’ll hold onto you.”
Carefully moving closer to the window, she peeked over its edge. They were on a hekishoku-reikon road, similar to the walkways between the towers, however its narrow nature allowed no riders next to the carriage. Instead, the Viridian Dragons had formed columns both in front of and behind them. “Lean out the window and take a look at where we are headed. Don’t worry. I won’t let you fall,” repeated Killmar casually.
They were rapidly climbing higher on what she now thought of as an unsettling steep wall-road. Five-foot-high golden rails decorated its edges, preventing one from simply stumbling off for any reason. Rivulets of cold sweat ran down her back as she cautiously leaned out of the window to see where they were headed. “Wha—”
Killmar felt a thrill of pleasure run down his spine as she gasped like a fish on dry land. “Something wrong?”
“There is a palace floating in the sky!” she said finally in disbelief.
“Yes, and?”
She snatched his hand and tried to pull him to the window. “Didn’t you hear me?! There is a palace floating in the sky! There are no support pillars. It is just there, floating, as if it belongs. How is that possible?”
He tugged her gently towards him, guiding her to sit on his lap. “That, my young wife, is the pinnacle of ewienian vanity. About three thousand years ago, when the Eranian Empire was founded, the first emperor had his imperial mages cast a spell of levitation on his palace. They obeyed. It unknowingly cost most of them their Next Life, but they gave their emperor the floating palace he so desired.”
“I was taught that ewiens are unable to use magic,” she said, recalling her old lessons.
“Aren’t you clever today?” he teased. “Ironically, their greatest magical feat eventually led to them forfeiting their ability to use magic.”
“How so?”
“The ewiens wanted to know exactly how they achieved the everlasting enchantment, as their approach to the levitation of the palace had been quite ham-fisted. They simply assigned all those with the aptitude for magic to its enchantment. The goal had been to create an enchantment strong enough that it only needed to be recharged every hundred years or so.”
“But some of the mages accidentally added their quenru to the mix,” added Jessica with a smirk.
He nodded. “After some experimentation, they gained a limited understanding of what quenru was. It was during one of those experiments when they accidentally opened a window that allowed them to perceive and communicate with the reibai. As I have mentioned before, the reibai are inter-dimensional beings.” He saw her irked expression and elaborated. “To put it simply, they occupy the same space as mortals, but are unable to be seen or to interact with anything on this realm of existence.”
“But this portal changed that?” she stated more than asked.
“It was not a portal, as it didn’t allow any travel through it. It simply allowed those of the mortal realm to perceive them and thusly made communication possible. The reibai used the ewiens’ ignorance to their advantage, for you see, despite their forms of benevolent light, the reibai are a race of shape shifting parasites that are despised by many. A reibai would attach itself to its prey, disguised as an object or even part of the being’s physical form. If not discovered within hours, it forms a psychic bond with its host after which, if killed, the host dies as well.”
“That’s terrible. What is it they want?” she asked as she felt her skin crawl.
“Energy, usually in the form of quenru.”
“They drain it from their victims?!”
“No. That wouldn’t make me very special would it?” he said dryly before adding. “As you know, spiritual beings and some others know how to use their quenru. Reibai siphon from the quenru their hosts use, hence weakening whatever the host is trying to accomplish. Many battles have been lost due to the reibai, which is why they are hated.”
“Understandable, but how did they enter the mortal realm and why aren’t they starving? Almost no one here knows what quenru is, much less how to use it.”
“The reibai are unique in the sense that they are neither spiritual nor mortal beings; their shape-shifting ability allows them to become both. But they lack the means to enter the mortal realm and are generally killed on sight wherever they go, so receiving aid was never an option.”
“Until they met the ewiens,” she said with dawning comprehension.
Killmar smiled. “Yes. They worked with the ewiens and created a kind of artificial habitat that served as an anchor to this realm. Ewiens call it Tiasekai, and within it lives the entirety of the reibai race. However, they are still parasites and need hosts in order to feed. Ignorant of this, the ewiens agreed to be infested under the pretence of allowing the reibai to experience the mortal realm.”
“But the ewiens don’t know how to manipulate quenru,” objected Jessica.
“True, but quenru is not the only source of energy upon this world. All mortals possess the ability to manipulate the natural energies of this world to some degree; it’s what you call magic. The reibai only need a mortal host in order to tap into it. Though not as sustaining as the energy released from manipulating quenru, it is a continuous source of nourishment. As a consequence, their hosts are unable to manipulate the natural energies themselves.”
“Which is why they can’t perform magic,” she said before asking, “But what of their magical sword techniques? Don’t they require the manipulation of these natural energies?”
“Those are actually quenru manipulations by the reibai. Somewhere along the way, the relationship between the reibai and ewiens became symbiotic . . . mutually beneficial. This is why I said that only some ewiens are able to do these techniques. If the reibai doesn’t like its host, it will not help him by spending some of its precious quenru.”
“But what if a reibai’s host is killed? Doesn’t it die as well?” she asked slightly upset at the thought of such selfishness.
He chuckled at her reaction. “No, when a host dies, the reibai just returns to Tiasekai until it is in danger of starving again.”
“That’s horrible.”
He shrugged. “They don’t seem to mind. On contrary, an ewien’s social and professional standing is based on his tier, which is largely based on the ability and power of their magical sword techniques.”
“An odd social structure, but the Eranian Empire has been around for thousands of years, so I guess they are doing something right,” she said as they neared the palace. It was massive, resembling a city more than a palace, so much so in fact that it completely blocked out the low-hanging sun. She looked down and judged they were about three hundred feet above ground. She had heard somewhere that the winds became fiercer the higher you went, and wondered at their absence. She decided that those long-dead imperial mages must have accounted for it with some kind of enchantment.
As the carriage stopped at the palace gates, she stared at the ornamental seven-foot-high walls and gate. Massive portraits along the sides of the walls depicted scenes of battles fought long ago, while small, slightly upturned roofs adorned their top. The paint was weathered by the passing millennia, but there was still enough left to impress.
It seemed that everything had already been prepared for their arrival, as they were let through the gem-encrusted, platinum and gold gates without so much as a word. As they headed deeper into the palace, she marvelled at the contradicting wooden structures. Unlike those of the city, these were single story and very house-like. They consisted only of lengthy corridors which bent and twisted to shape each mansion.
“Why—” started Jessica.
Killmar shook his head. “Who knows? I have long ago given up trying to understand mortals.”
She felt a bit anxious as they proceeded deeper into the palace. “Do you think we will be allowed to see the Emperor the moment we arrive?”
He raised an eyebrow. “Allowed? After bringing me all this way, they better allow it. Why?”
She looked down at the dark green fabric that hugged her body. Despite having changed clothes during their journey, she wasn’t exactly clean. “Killmar, I am not quite fit to be presented to the Emperor of the Eranian Empire, and we left Larin too soon for the weaver to finish my court dress.”
“Oh? So you believe I would just give someone a fortune in gold for no reason?”
“What do you mean?” she asked confused.
“Do you recall the letter I wrote on the morning we left?” he said with a devious smile.
“I remember.”
“Well, I didn’t write it to practice my penmanship. I had one of the pages of the Silent Mistress deliver it to that elderly rotementa at the Golden Weaver. In it, I instructed that should I not come to collect it, he was to go to the Mages’ Guild in Larin and have them teleport it to the Arcane University here in Erana. Your dress has probably been waiting for our arrival for over a week now.”
“But how could you have known that the Empire would send an escort to guide us to Erana?”
He smiled sheepishly. “I didn’t, but I intended for us to come to Erana anyway.”
“You could have told me,” she said crossly.
“What and miss the conversation we just had? Never.”
She rolled her eyes. “Does nothing ever surprise you?”
“You did,” he said as he kissed her.
Fighting the urge to let her passion run free, she gently pushed him away. “Not in the carriage.”
He feigned innocence. “Whatever do you mean?”
“You know what I mean,” she said, with slightly rosy cheeks.
He placed his hands on either side of her as he loomed over her, his eyes as alluring as sin. “No matter what?”
She felt her resolve dissolve. “Well . . .”
He moved slightly closer. “Well?”
She quivered as his breath caressed her neck. “Al—”
“All right, I shall wait,” he said suddenly sitting back on the opposite seat.
Time slowly crept by as they silently waited to reach their destination. The carriage came to a halt just when she was about to break the silence.
“Ready?” he asked as he opened the door.
She nodded and took his hand as he helped her out of the carriage.
Rantal turned to them. “Lord Killmar, we assumed that you and your wife would like to rest before your audience with the Emperor. Is that satisfactory, or would you like to proceed to meet the Emperor now?”
He felt Jessica’s desperate tugs on his sleeve. “It is acceptable.”
Rantal nodded and turned to the residence behind him. “Then this shall be your accommodation.”
There was an ocean of exotic plants in front of them, the path to the door the only strip of land absent of flowers.
“Rantal, there is a package waiting for me at the Arcane University. Please send someone to retrieve it and bring it here. It is rather important,” Killmar said as he handed the commander a piece of paper containing the details.