An Ignoble Invitation- the Aelven Dominion Read online

They finished their meals and were ushered hurriedly toward the front door, when Miri caught a familiar amethyst gaze staring straight in their direction. He said his name was Aisalan, but for all that she knew about the Aelven it could have, very well, been a fake.

  She nodded her head in greeting and was surprised when he returned the gesture. Before she could think any more of it, she was back out on the Convent streets; the door of the restaurant closed behind them.

  “I feel a little bit better now.” Kyra said with a yawn.”We should probably get back home and figure out what we’re going to tell Duriah tomorrow.”

  Miri groaned, wishing Kyra hadn’t reminded her that they still had an employer to return to. Duriah was supportive, but Miri knew he wasn’t too keen on losing his workers. He’d be as happy as they were crushed.

  The walk back to The Hidden took them through the other side of the Convent toward a solid wood gate with guards checking incoming and outgoing traffic.

  “What was your business?” It seemed this particular guard was having a bad day and found the perfect target to take out his aggression. Miri decided it was best to let Kyra do the talking.

  “We were at the Tribunal Hall. We’re heading home for the night.”

  She kept her voice low, and her eyes lower, and Miri’s hands clenched into fists. She crossed her arms and looked to the side, hoping the entire encounter would be over with soon.

  “Perhaps I could convince you to stay awhile.” He replied, stepping closer to Kyra. Closer than either woman would ever be comfortable with. Miri was by her side in a flash.

  “We’ve already answered your question.” She ground out, putting as much acid into her tone as possible. The guard had no reason to stop them, let alone make that kind of proposition. There were plenty of brothels for him to visit if he was interested in pursuing human girls. “We just want to go home.”

  He stopped, his eyes narrowing as he zeroed in on the person interrupting his fun. His hand shot out, and he captured the base of Miri’s neck, jerking her towards him such that her nose almost touched his armored chest. “You’re one of those who hasn’t learned to speak unless spoken to.”

  Kyra gasped and clutched Miri’s arm, pulling her away from his loose grip, “I’m sorry, sir. It’s been a long day for both of us.” Her eyes shot daggers at Miri, causing her to feel instantly chastened. Her tongue had almost gotten them in trouble again. She would never hear the end of it.

  The guard rubbed his chin as though deciding whether to let them go or attempt to continue his pursuit. A shout from their left drew his attention as a few Aelven guards accosted a group of men attempting to enter the Convent. He cursed and turned back to them. “Go on your way.” His eyes lingered on Miri for a few moments longer before he left to assist in the scuffle.

  Miri didn’t need to be told twice. Kyra maintained the vice grip on her arm, and dragged her through the gate into the quarter they called home.

  “I cannot believe you.” Kyra snapped, “You’re acting as if you don’t know how things are. You could have gotten us thrown into the dungeon! And only the gods know what would have happened to us there!”

  Miri swallowed and took the tongue lashing she knew she deserved. Kyra was right. While most of the guards treated humans with apathy, there were a few who took pleasure in making human lives miserable. Rapes weren’t necessarily common, but a human woman would be hard-pressed to say no if an Aelv in any position of power asked her for favors. As inferior as humans were believed to be, the biology functioned similarly enough that The Hidden wasn’t dangerous at night purely because of its human occupants.

  If that male had been serious about wanting Kyra, he could have had her, and there may have been little done about it by the authorities. Miri provoked him, and it burned to know she could have been responsible for her best friend’s suffering.

  “I’m sorry.” She said quietly.

  “I know you-” Kyra’s rantceased and she forced Miri to stop walking, “What?”

  Miri swallowed, “I said...I’m sorry. I should know how to handle the Aelven, but today I just...”

  She was surprised when Kyra doubled over. In between peals of laughter, she drew in ragged breaths causing Miri to wonder whether the other woman had officially lost her mind. “Would you mind telling me what’s so funny?”

  “I just...” She started again, this time clinging to Miri for dear life before mopping at her face with her sleeve, “I don’t think I’ve ever heard you apologize to anyone before.” Her smile was crooked, and she tucked a braid behind Miri’s ear. “By the gods, you’re terrible at it.”

  “Oh, haha.” Miri said, swatting Kyra’s hand away, “Here I am practically prostrating myself before you.”

  “Oh yes.” Kyra said, her eyes shining, “Almost begging.”

  Both women observed each other with a little smile on their faces. “I know I can be a bit rough to deal with at times,” Miri said.

  Kyra’s smile dropped, “Sometimes, I think you have a death wish.” She took Miri’s hand in hers. “I don’t know what I would do if you...”

  Miri shook her head and pulled her friend into her arms for a fierce hug. “Today was a fluke.” She murmured into her ear. “I promise. I won’t put us in danger again.”

  The drizzle began again, and Kyra pulled back to give Miri a firm nod before interlacing their fingers to continue their walk home. The clouds above threatened to unload a torrent, and they had clothing hanging on the line that would need to be brought in.

  As they passed neighbors and weaved through barely paved alleys to the small tenement they called home, Miri reflected on how lucky she was to have Kyra as a friend. She deserved better, infinitely better than the life they shared in The Hidden ducking drunk guards and human men, the constant sneers of the Aelven, the uncertainty of their futures.

  There were good times, but hanging over them, like the dark clouds of a rainy day, was the rule of the Aelven Dominion, for their protection, for their good, for the glory of the Progenitors.

  As they neared their front door, Kyra gasped when, resting against it, was a large bottle of Qist.

  “Were you expecting this?” Kyra asked, holding the bottle up to the fading light. She whistled, “This isn’t the cheap stuff either.”

  Miri frowned, “I don’t have any friends that could afford something like that.” The beautiful blue glass was hand-blown, the neck delicately narrow to allow the perfect pour of a small measure. Verdant greens swirled within the blue, mirroring the reflection of leaves against lake water. The bottle alone would fetch a reasonable price, let alone the contents.

  “Let’s get this inside. I think we earned ourselves a drink today,” Kyra exclaimed as she jammed the key into their front door’s lock.

  “We don’t even know who it’s from,” Miri warned. She didn’t like this one bit. This had to be some cruel joke. Who sends a gift to celebrate failure? She watched Kyra remove her satchel, and with it their last hope for ever getting out of The Hidden, then stared at the glass of Qist offered to her with distrust.

  “Well, it’s not like anyone has a reason to poison us,” Kyra said, rolling her eyes. “Besides, maybe the gods are being kind to us today.” She tipped the first serving back and coughed. “Smooth.”

  Miri chuckled and brought her glass to her lips, “Doesn’t sound like it.” But Kyra was right, and the initial burn was followed quickly by a sweetness not found in the cheap stuff served at the taverns dotting their quarter. She could already feel herself becoming a bit tipsy from her first serving and almost demurred a second one before Kyra boldly shoved it into her hands.

  “I think we still have a chance,” Kyra said with a crooked smile.

  “I think that’s the Qist talking,” Miri replied, and she downed her second cup with far more relish than the first.

  They spent the rest of the night rehanging their damp clothing across their living quarters. Lines strung from the cooking to the sitting area were soon laden wit
h laundry, and Miri whispered a drunken good night to Kyra after the stress of the day, and their drinks, caused them to tumble to their mattresses.

  Miri stared out of the window at the dreary view their money could buy. The back of other tenements, some windows bright with light and others as dark as their own, she thought back to her days in the wilds. The far-flung reaches of civilization where few Aelven lived besides a few administrators and Hearth Mistresses tasked with raising human children.

  Those days seemed like fleeting shadows now. Like most of her kind, she’d set out at a young age to make her fortune, away from the eyes of Mistresses and guards only to discover there was no real freedom to be found.

  She’d eventually landed in an apprentice hall looking for training and, when her knack for alchemy was discovered, she was quickly trained in basic preparations and handed over to Duriah. Miri imagined something similar happened to Kyra, though she never had the benefit of running through meadows or chasing frogs up and down a freshwater stream.

  She turned to look at her friend, who was fast asleep and lightly snoring. Kyra still believed in good things. She still believed if they followed the rules and showed the Aelven that humans weren’t blood-thirsty savages, they would eventually regain the freedom of their ancestors. Her abilities with magic were unparalleled, and Miri couldn’t help but think that was partially due to her purity of heart.

  Miri’s eyes drifted down to the solid bangle welded around Kyra’s wrist, meant to keep her power at an acceptable level. In a just society, she could have been one of the stronghold’s foremost mages, but that was a fantasy, a fairy tale woven up by hazy eyed elders who, themselves, didn’t remember a time before the Aelven.

  She yawned, and stretched, wincing at the scratchy wool of the blanket as she tugged it up to her shoulders. Come morning, and they would return to The Magistra with glad and sad tidings. For now, she would have her dreams.

  Chapter Two

  Miri

  “You’re late!” Duriah’s voice tore across Miri’s eardrums. Despite sleeping like the dead until the morning bells of the temple signaled the arrival of morning, she was fiercely hungover and made the solemn vow, as she always did, to never touch another drop of Qist again

  Judging by the way Duriah was peering over his glasses at both of them, she had a feeling she was going to be breaking that promise as soon as the day was through. She and Kyra rushed through their morning ritual, scrubbing bodies and faces in cold water pumped through into small tub situated off of the cooking area.

  She’d barely had time to wrangle her braids into a bun before Kyra was stuffing a chunk of bread in her hands and dragging her out of the door. Fortunately, the guard from the previous day wasn’t on duty or, she imagined, they would have been late enough to earn their employer’s genuine displeasure.

  Kyra smiled, offered a contrite apology, and swiftly left to fetch a broom to prepare the floors for the day. Miri took her time, nodding her head gently to the elder Aelven before dipping into the storeroom to check their stock of alchemy supplies and her list of duties for the day.

  A short stack of books sat next to a list hastily scribbled in Duriah’s messy hand. A small token of esteem that existed without words between them. As he learned more of the alchemical arts, so did she. Miri thumbed through the text on top of the pile before returning it to its place.

  Duriah had far more experience with the aether infused realm of the Aelven and the magic contained therein, but he was just as much a student as she was.

  “You’re not jumping for joy.” A deep voice said from behind her, and Miri jumped, almost dropping the bottle of Basilisk’s blood she was pulling down from a cupboard.

  “If I dropped this, you would have taken it out of my pay.” She said, shooting a playful glare over her shoulder.

  Duriah was like most Aelven, thoroughly convinced of his superiority. But, with age and wisdom seemed to come the lack of a desire to flaunt it. They had an understanding, she and he. She would brew up batches of Orpheum’s Sleep for him, and he, in turn, would allow her enough wiggle room to be herself. It was an even trade in Miri’s point of view, even if it did play off of the old Aelv’s addiction.

  “You were hoping not to have to worry about me sneaking up on you again.” He replied solemnly, “I take it things did not go well with the High Administrator.”

  Miri sighed and set an alembic over a low flame, “No...No they didn’t.”

  She could hear the frown in his voice. “With the right recommendations and your surprisingly spotless record, you should have been granted approval.”

  As surprising as her lack of run-ins with the guard may have been to him, Miri was equally surprised by how shocked he seemed at the administrator’s refusal. He, of all people, should have known something like this could occur. She didn’t know the full scope of his career in the Iron Hand, but their rough dealings with humans were fairly well known.

  “We needed letters of formal introduction,” Miri replied. She fished around in a cabinet, looking for the mortar and pestle she was fairly certain had been moved by the man standing behind her, “Of course, the chance of two casteless humans getting one of those is just about nil.”

  She slammed the door shut and whirled around, burying her face in her hands before raking them back over her hair.

  It was a humiliating defeat, even if it was one she should have seen coming. She looked up and met Duriah’s sad gaze. He believed in the best of the dominion, but always seemed a bit surprised and saddened when the reality failed to measure up.

  It was moments like these when he was confronted with the disparities in their lived experiences. Miri had many words but Duriah had few. These pinpricks of awareness always came with a weighted silence.

  She managed a wan smile and decided to change the subject, “Do you remember where you put my mortar and pestle?”

  He did not return her smile but still appeared visibly relieved. “I knew I forgot something. I took it up front, I’ll bring it right back.”

  Miri chuckled as he left the room and went back to measuring out ingredients. They were fresh out of Adder’s Tongue, a potion meant to aid those lacking charm and Stalwart, a popular brew among the guards to grant them courage though she struggled to understand what they needed courage for.

  Rumors circulated about freedom fighters out in the wilds, but none would dare step foot near Myrenden. As far as she knew, the most the guards needed to worry about were other drunken Aelven and brawls in The Hidden.

  She thanked Duriah when he returned and shooed him out when he began to dawdle. He was likely running out of Orpheum’s Sleep and nervous about asking her to make more. She fetched the ingredients out of a small stash box stowed away in the back of low a cabinet. She would grant a small mercy and make it without him having to ask.

  She was deep in thought when Kyra’s soft voice came from the doorway. “Did you tell him?”

  “Yes.” Miri said with a sigh. “And he seemed strangely surprised.”

  “You know Duriah...” Kyra placed the broom she was carrying against the wall. “I think we should just accept that perhaps this is our lot.”

  “No!” Miri snapped, whirling to face the other woman. “We’re going to get that letter. I just need time to think up a new plan.”

  They couldn’t give up, not when they were so close. Even if it meant having to leave Myrenden, they would find their own way. Miri wished she could convey this to Kyra, but she was having a hard enough time believing her own words. With little to offer herself, she could only stand and watch as Kyra nodded and returned to her duties without another word.

  The wistful sadness left in her wake mirrored Miri’s own but she had little time to wallow in self-pity. There were potions to make. The time for grieving could come later.

  Miri

  The day passed by in a slow crawl, their potions stock fluctuating as the hours passed, and Miri struggled to keep up. She had requested that Duriah bring in ano
ther alchemist multiple times, but the old codger’s cheapness held him off.

  “You have got things well in hand.” He said as she wiped sweat from her brow and glowered at his retreating back.

  Well, in hand, indeed. By the time lunch hour rolled around her chemise was positively sopping. There was no way she would be allowed in any Convent establishment looking the way she did, so, with a heavy sigh, she gave her food order to Kyra and propped herself on a stool in the back room to wait.

  She perked up as footsteps neared her cramped working space but was immediately let down when Duriah’s scowling face poked in through the doorway. “You have a visitor.” He said, sounding none too impressed with what, she imagined, seemed like her attempting to perform private business during working hours.

  “I’m not expecting anyone,” Miri replied with a frown, but Duriah shrugged and swept his arm out in the direction of the hallway, beckoning her to get moving so the shop could return to normal.

  Miri’s heart raced. Perhaps the guard from the other night found where she lived and had figured out some trumped-up charges to levy against her. Maybe the Qist on their porch was stolen goods and somehow magically traced back to them. Whatever it was, an unexpected guest was rarely a blessing, and, as she took in a tall, lean figure idly perusing the shop’s shelves, she decided quickly, her assumption was correct.

  “Please don’t take too long.” Duriah whispered before approaching the younger Aelven male, “Lord Vinhar, I’ve retrieved Miri.”

  He shuffled backward with a bow and cast a single warning gaze in Miri’s direction before making his way toward the front counter.

  Unsure of who should speak first, Miri took the time to study her visitor. He had the same tall bearing as any other Aelven. Even standing many paces away, she knew he would dwarf her were they toe-to-toe. His long, silver hair was clasped neatly at his neck, falling in a curtain to his hip.

  Her assessing gaze finally met his own and encountered the same cool, penetrating, blue-violet she remembered from their encounter at the Tribunal Hall. A small, bemused, smile tugged at his lips and it did little to comfort her. Whatever reason brought him here, he was getting far more pleasure out of the encounter than she was.