NationStates Jolt Archive

[OOC: It is advised to take cognizance of the previous (http://forums.jolt.co.uk/showthread.php?t=367731&page=1) thread to understand the events unfolding in this one. ]

Beautiful is the sky and the earth beneath it, caressed by the warm rays of the sun. Refreshing is the rain that falls from the sky and soft is the song that the winds sing as they journey across lands with a mission known solely to them. What words can describe the splendour of rivers and oceans? Or the purity of snow that covers the land as a majestic rug during winter months? And as one looks high into the nightly sky searching for the star of his, does he think of what may be beneath his feet? For beneath them is a whole treasury of other marvels, some of which lie deep within the Abyss Mountains in the vicinity of Tartarus. It is known that mountains jealously keep many a secret within their stony depths and rare are those that dare defy the giants of stone and rock and uncover the truth. But those who are brave and strong enough will be rewarded with the knowledge and riches of the Five Shakhtal Citadels buried deep within the hearts of the snowy peaks, each hosting a fortification in the form of a column, stretching from the ceiling of the gigantic caves and up to its floor, watching over their respective cities that surrounded them, the buildings clutching to the Citadel as little wolf cubs to their protective wolf.

Among these citadels was one of Amanthir, home to the powerful and secretive Shakhtal sorcerers and wizards, known for their loyalty to ancestral traditions and hostility towards outlanders. The Citadel of Mek-Tenerath, the rich centre of all merchant activities of the Five Citadels where life seemed to never stop as merchants traded food, weapons, jewellery, slaves and other goods on the busy bazaar of the city that surrounded the Citadel. The Citadel of Herith, known for its brave warriors of great might that feared no danger and for whom death did not exist. The Citadel of Kshas-Athun, the youngest and the less populated of the five, home to those who seek not the path of magic, but the path of science, maybe the most bizarre of all Citadels for ancestral Shakhtal architecture mixed there with strange devices of all sorts that spit hot steam and fire through various openings. And finally, the majestic Citadel of Tal-lar, seat of the Council, domain of the Lord and Ruler. Within a cave of enormous proportions it stood as a pillar, connecting the floor to the ceiling, wide in the basement and narrower towards the top. Around the basement stood twelve tall pillars, each wide enough to allow for several rooms on one level, which went as high as the middle of the main tower’s height, where they connected with it. Many thin passages ran between the side pillars and the main one, as well as been the side ones only, forming a kind of a web of different tunnels and corridors.

The top of each pillar was as the top of a guard tower, with walls and smaller turrets running along the sides. As the enemy menace was no longer direct, these spaces became all sorts of recreational grounds for various folk, where children enjoyed themselves under the vigilant eye of Black Guard recruits charged with preserving public order and making sure none tried to jump off the edge. From time to time a warrior from the Black Guard would appear, verifying that the younger generation was accomplishing its tasks with due attention, before vanishing back into the depths of the Citadel, where corridors turned into chambers and chambers into halls each more splendorous and magnificent than the previous one. Bas-reliefs covered the walls, depicting great battles of old, scenes from myths, heroes whose names have long been forgotten. In the richest of halls the floor and ceilings were decorated with handcrafted mosaic made of gems, which did not shine with all of their beauty for the Shakhtal despised light and lived in a near complete darkness. Their eyes grew accustomed to the dark, so did their senses, and whilst nothing could defeat a Shakhtal beneath the earth, he could be easily dealt with in the Above, where the Sun shines with its rays of flame that burn eyes and skin mercilessly, inflicting grave injuries and damaging health. And even at night, when the Sun was away and the stars bathed the soil with their soft silvery light, would a Shakhtal feel uneasy and ill. Only few ones had the training to survive in the Above, and most of these were the Black Guards, the proud warriors and mages that have defended their people ever since the beginning of times.

The Citadel of Tal-lar, with its riches, wealth and beauty, lorded over the City of the same name, nestled in the same cavern as the Citadel, occupying the space that was free. Structures that resembled spires rose from the floor, but even the highest of them dwarfed by the main pillar of the Citadel. And even if the cavern that housed the City was of tremendous dimensions, the real Tal-lar went beyond the boundaries of stone and rock, piercing galleries and halls deeper into the ground, into the walls, expanding constantly as the population grew in numbers. Out of the ten million souls that lived in the Five Cities, next to a third of the number inhabited the City of Tal-lar, a truly tremendous settlement that posed a great deal of concern to its authority. With time, it was clear that they would have no other choice but to begin resettling their kin in the Above, where only rare few dared to venture yet. And even if the idea was simply preposterous to the ears of some, it made sense for others, for the Shakhtal once came from the Above, and so should they one day return there.

Indeed, debates raged as a fire through a dry forest as the Five Cities struggled to adapt to the evolving world without abandoning their ancestral traditions, for which they fought, died and were exiled. After spending a thousand years cut from the entire world and attempting a vengeance on their most hated foes, a project that failed to their most extreme humiliation, they were now trying to learn the lessons from their mistakes. And in the meantime, they accepted to become ‘subjects’ of a nation that was entirely composed of what they not so long ago called ‘filth’. But repeated failures and humiliating defeats against the aforementioned creatures were as ice on a bleeding wound, both painful and yet somehow calming. Besides, they engaged themselves in a treaty for a hundred years, a period of time that meant nothing to a Shakhtal, for they lived long, until their minds drifted slowly into folly as their ages increased by an other millennia.

That day, or maybe night, for none could be sure what time it was in the dark halls of the Shakhtal Citadels, the Council was holding a meeting to debate further plans on expanding into the Above. Already, somewhere high between the snowy peaks, the Black Guard had set up a settlement and constructed an airfield for purposes of receiving aircraft coming in from the neighbouring Tartarus, the same airfield used by Her Imperial Highness not long before the holding of the latest Council. As always, divisions erupted as debates progressed on whether the expansion into the Above was a wise idea, the delegates of Amanthir and other wizards and sorcerers from other cities clearly opposing the initiative while those mainly from Kshas-Athun quite favourable to it. And as the argument progressed from calm to anger, the Lord and Ruler stood silent in his spot, in the centre of the Council Chamber, on the spot indicated by a burning eye, threatened from above by the sword of Sathala. Lord Da’teril shook his head and sighed, looking back at the majestic tall statue behind him, so tall that the face of the Goddess was lost somewhere in the darkness under the ceiling, darkness that even his Shakhtal eyes could not pierce. And as he looked into the shadows above, he suddenly thought that he remembered not the face of the statue, the thought, as a strike of lightning by clear sky, made him raised his hand into the air, irritation clearly shown on his face. And as the Lord and Ruler’s arm raised into the air, all silenced, for none dared speak when the young leader chose to say his word.

“Kilshkhari!” he said as he surveyed the Councillors from his position below their balconies and lounges, his blue eyes sparkling in the dark as he repeated himself. “Enough! If you deem that your responsibilities as Councillors are to bicker like rats in the dark, then spare me the need of having to listen to your squeals!”

A soft noise came from one of the lounges somewhere high above, as a man wearing the robes of a wizard, high in rank, rested his arms on the railing, leaning in to look down at the Lord and Ruler, his own eyes glowing as two sapphires in the darkness of the chamber, his face both touched by phlegm and disdain.

“And who dares tell us this? The one who made us servants of the filth from Above! Traitor, I say! Traitor! He practised with the filth from Above, he wants us to return to the Above and mingle with the filth! Shall we repeat the mistake committed by those who we called brothers so long ago? Shall we now betray all that we have died and suffered for? Shall we let the traitor lead us to our doom?”

Silence befell on the chamber of a second as Da’teril and the wizard looked each other into the eyes, exchanging insults that no words could convey. And then whispers began to be heard around the Chamber, starting like a soft summer wind to finally erupt into a winter blizzard as more and more wizards stood up from their seats, shouting “Traitor! Traitor!” And as the wizards stood up, so did the ones who chose the paths of technology, so did the merchants and artisans and men of other crafts, for the Council was not only parted between the Citadels, it was also parted between the Guilds. And as a portion of the Chamber yelled profanities at Da’teril, the other portion was shouting in the Lord and Ruler’s defence, calling the wizards names only existing in the language spoken by the Shakhtal. The Mouth and Arm of Sathala, as Da’teril was also called, raised his arm yet again into the air, his gesture having little effect as passions ran dangerously high. He knew that if he did not stop the arguing, he would soon have flames and arrows flying all over the room as swords ripped through flesh.

“Kilshkhari!” he yelled with a voice that filled the entire chamber, stopping the war before it even began. Da’teril looked back at the wizard responsible for the dispute and hissed: “Do you challenge the Sword?”

Dead silence befell on the Chamber as the two men looked each other into the eyes, the wizard finally nodding and speaking out loud. “Yes! I challenge the Sword! Let the traitor perish under Sathala’s just gaze!”

But before he even had the time to say an other word, Da’teril raised his right hand into the air, tracing shapes in the air so fast that he appeared to have not one arm, but many. The unfortunate wizard was literally ripped out of his lounge and crashed on the floor next to Da’teril, filling the silent chamber with the sound of cracking bones. The Lord and Ruler came towards the still breathing wizard who was spitting blood as he yelled in pain, lying face down on the floor. His red fluids ran as streams from his body, filling the cavities in the floor, seeming like black ink in the dark that painted the drawing of death. Da’teril had to resort to doing something that he loathed more than anything – killing yet an other foolish pretender to his title, and the death of the unfortunate victim of its own ego would have to be horrific, frightening, so that no other fool dared voice his claims in the immediate future, for Da’teril needed not those unhappy with his rule to seed dissent among his kin.

And so he kneeled down on a knee in front of the agonising man and took his sword out, with which he cut the robes and clothes of the wizard on the back, exposing the area where his spine was. Da’teril reached down to the back of the neck, sighing heavily as he thought about showing mercy to the fool. Alas, mercy equalled weakness and cowardice for his kin and so he had to show that he knew no pity to those who dared challenge him. Such was the Challenge to the Sword, for there could only be one winner, one survivor, an ancestral tradition going back thousands of years. The Lord’s icy fingers cut through the victim’s skin, enticing around the bone as he ripped it out with inhumane strength, continuing until a good portion of the spine was exposed for all Councillors to see.

And they did see, watching in silence, terrified and awed by their Lord and Ruler’s might and strength, witnessing how he disposed of quite a powerful wizard in the blink of an eye. Da’teril stood up, holding his sword in his hand, and surveyed the Chamber, his blue eyes burning with anger. “Are there any other challengers?” None replied as all of the Councillors retook their seats, the meeting having returned to order, Da’teril sighing with relief as he would not be obliged to end anybody else’s life.

Just at this moment the main doors to the Council Chamber opened slightly and a soldier clad into the armour of the Black Guard came in, stopping several steps away from Da’teril and bowing in Shakhtal manner, by lowering his head to look on the floor, while bringing his arm up to his heart. He said something silently to the Lord and Ruler, the latter nodding slightly as he made a dismissive gesture with his hand. He looked around the Chamber once more and went to retake his place under the tip of Sathala’s sword, above the burning eye of Truth engraved on the floor. He took a deep breath and spoke with quite a deal of ceremony, loud enough for all Councillors to hear. “Let the Overseer enter!” The giant doors leading into the Chamber began to open themselves slowly as the guards on duty faced each other, raising their swords into the air, forming an arch with their steel under which the Imperial Overseer would pass. The Councillors immediately directed all of their attention at the doors, waiting for the new arrival to manifest themselves. Da’teril gave a glance at the bleeding disarticulated corpse still lying on the floor and his imagination already pictured the reaction of somebody from the Above to such a sight…

Stepping through the door, it took a moment before the full extent of the room was revealed. Standing behind the guard, the view was blocked, with only the outer rims of the room being on show. A moment later all was on show as the man moved from the door allowing free access into the centre of the room. The walls seemed to be made up of countless eyes, all looking in one direction…at her.

Eyes flicking about her as she walked towards the man in the middle of the room, it was not long before her gaze fell upon the body lying on the floor. Cassandra Darlington, newly appointed Overseer to the Shakhtal, grimaced visibly before she managed to pull herself together. She stopped some way from the body, making sure not to step into the increasing pool of blood on the ground.

“Lord Da’teril, I am Cassandra Darlington. I am here on behalf of her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna of Tartarus.” She started to raise her hand in order to shake his, but stopped as she caught sight of the blood that covered his fingers. “I was told that you would be expecting me.” The smile on her lips, forced there to cover the nausea that threatened to engulf her.

Try as she might, her gaze would not remain on the face of the Lord and Ruler of the the Shakhtal, as her eyes were drawn to the spectacle on the floor. “I trust that I did not arrive at an inconvenient time?” She looked in his eyes, trying to keep her mind off the mess on the ground at her feet.

Da’teril inclined his head to Lady Darlington in sign of greeting just as a young Shakhtal girl entered the chamber, carrying a bowl of water and a towel. The Lord and Ruler washed the blood of his hands, slowly, making sure not to leave a drop of it on his skin, then took the towel off the girl’s arm, drying his hands before putting the cloth back on the servant’s arm, indicating her that she could leave, which she did, with dignity and pose that indicated that she was no mere slave.

The Lord and Ruler then smiled at the Overseer. “It is an honour and a pleasure to meet you, Lady Darlington and I welcome you to my domains.” He gave a glance at the body and shook his head, sighing. “Worry not, such scenes happen on period basis when somebody decides to challenge the Sword. Unfortunately for them, none has ever succeeded in vanquishing me. And this fool will serve as example to those who come after him.” He looked back at her, smiling again. “I apologise for the sight, it shall be… cleared… uhm… taken out…” He frowned and sighed as his knowledge of High Gibberish began to betray him again. “Does the Lady wish to address the Council? You can speak in your language; I shall make sure that the Councillors understand your words.”

Indeed, marvels of Shakhtal magical arts allowed for two people speaking entirely different languages to understand each other without the need of employing a translator. And it was obvious that the Lord and Ruler, a dreaded wizard, would be able to accomplish such miracles in the blink of an eye.

Cassandra looked at the man before her and smiled, listening to his words and watching his face, without letting her eyes fall open the dead man on the floor. She wondered for a moment what she had done to have been given this assignment; her mind flicked over her past performance and could think of nothing she had done to displeasure Emma or the Empress.

To aid in her distraction, she let her eyes move around the room, taking in each face as it gazed back at her. She felt like the main attraction in a circus. “Lord Da’teril, as much as I appreciate your invitation to speak, I feel it would be best for me to decline at the moment.” Her attention became focused once more on his face. “Other than saying hello, I have nothing worthwhile to say. Perhaps once I am settled I may have the opportunity to address everyone.”

She had a speech already made in her head, but the thought of sharing the floor – so to speak – with a corpse had robbed her of the ability to speak. In fact, she was looking forward to getting away from the sight, as soon as possible. It might be second nature for the Shakhtal to have to step across the dead on a daily basis, but it certain was not common practice in Tartarus. “Unless you wish me to make a speech, of course?”

Da’teril shook his head and smiled at her. “The choice is yours, Lady Darlington, and you have clearly expressed your opinion… view…” He frowned lightly, taking a deep breath, trying to remember the correct word. “Decision.” With that, he inclined his head in respect once more before his gaze flew back up to survey the silent Councillors who have not uttered a single word nor greeted the Overseer in any way. Da’teril said something in his language and the members of the Council deigned to greet Cassandra, by quickly bringing their right hand to their heart, then lift it up to their mouth and then extending it slightly towards her before reassuming their normal positions. And even if the Tartarian Overseer most surely could not see the entirety of the Council due to the darkness that reigned in the room, Da’teril did notice, to his greatest satisfaction, that most of the Councillors greeted Cassandra, with only a slim minority refusing to greet an ‘outlander’.

He then said something else to the Councillors, something that was quite harsh, with a clear indication that should somebody dare contrary the Lord and Ruler’s orders, they would meet the fate of the same fool who dared challenge Da’teril earlier. If Cassandra spoke the language, she would have understood that Da’teril was talking about the expansion into the Above. Indeed, the Shakhtal leader was clearly intent on further works in the realms where there was sunlight, but that for the time being he would limit the participation in his projects only to selected units of the Black Guard. With that, the Lord and Ruler simply adjourned the Council, inviting the Councillors to enjoy what Tal-lar had to offer, for not all returned to their cities of origin, and to convene in meeting on the following day.

With that, he once again looked at Cassandra, addressing her with a smile. “Have you already been shown to your... halfs? I mean... quarters? Living space?” The frown etched again on his face as his lips curled up in discontent, a sigh escaping his chest as he clearly wondered how could he end lives in the blink of an eye and yet have hardships speaking a language other than Shakhtal.

Fortunately for Cassandra she had no understanding of the Shakhtal language, and would have been grateful for the fact had she known what Da’teril was saying to the Councillors. She was still smiling from the greeting she had received from the room, pleased that she had managed not to upset anyone, and therefore did not end up as the poor man on the ground. She cast a quick glance to the floor, taking a step backward just in case the man lost any more blood, which would just ruin her new pair of pink slingbacks, which matched her suit perfectly.

As her host finished speaking to the room and turned his attention to her, she gaze him her most pleasant smile, perfect white teeth behind immaculately made up, pink lips, several shades darker than her outfit, and a perfect compliment to her pale blonde hair.

“No, I have not seen them yet. I was graciously directed straight here.” She let the smile grow on her lips, even travelling as far as setting a twinkling in her blue eyes. “Perhaps it would be nice to see them now, if there is someone free to do so, of course. Otherwise, I could just take a moment to walk around and get accustomed to my surroundings.” She could not help wondering where they got their sun from, it was not good for the skin not to get any at all, even if she was careful not to overdo it.

Da’teril did not say a word to Cassandra as the world around them suddenly went entirely black, the darkness dissipating a second later to reveal a completely different location from the one they had been previously. It was a room of impressive size, furnished with soft rugs, exquisite furniture, majestic tapestries and engravings on the walls, everything comprising Shakhtal motives, a rich blend of completely different styles that depicted anything from wolves to crawlers, from tall spires illuminated by the sun to the subterranean cities of the like of Tal-lar.

The tables in the room were low and there were no chairs, pillows of various sizes and forms, as well as density, replacing the seats that the ones from the Above were used to. In the middle of the room stood a fountain, with water sparkling from the mouths of mythical beasts above which stood statuettes of heroes of old. One wall of the room was absent, delimited by columns, the exit giving on a rather large balcony from which the city could be surveyed. On the other side of the room, tall doors led into the antechamber of the apartment, which in turn led to a corridor where two Black Guards were always stationed now that the apartment was occupied by the Overseer.

On the side walls, other doors could be seen, leading to other lesser rooms, such as the bedroom, furnished with a low, but wide and soft bed, a bathroom done in Shakhtal style, with various pools of water for various purposes, such as hot baths with what the foreigners called ‘hydromassage’ to pools were the temperature could be regulated by the user to suit any needs. Walls of water fell parallel and close to the walls of the room, replacing the common ‘shower’.

Da’teril surveyed the main hall and looked at Cassandra. “I have arranged for your rooms to be on the same ground… euh… level as mine, my Lady.” He said without any emotion as he looked over the fountain, walking up to it and pressing the head of one of the beasts down, a wall suddenly sliding from beneath the floor to close the open exit on the balcony. He pushed it again and the wall slid back down, revealing the balcony yet again. “That is if you fear any unwanted people… guests… intruders! entering while you are asleep. I will also place a lock… ward? on this apartment so that nobody can enter as we did without your request… I mean - approval!”

He remained silent for a moment, thinking of something, before continuing. “I have arranged for two Black Guards to protect the entrance to your apartment. There are many more on this floor… level, not to mention the fact that the Citadel is the safest place there is.” He smiled at her. “I will arrange for some slaves… I mean servants! For some servants to aid you should you require any… uhm… aid?” He frowned again, thinking that it would simply be easier for him to speak in Shakhtal and using his magic to allow her to understand what he said. But then again, it was not some Gibberish that was going to defeat Da’teril himself!

“Your things… bags… luggage will arrive shortly. If you want anything else, the slaves… servants! will, well, do what you want them to do, obviously.” He smiled again. “Does the Lady wish to know anything else? Or do you have some tactic… strategy… plans! Do you have some other plans?”

As Cassandra entered the room, her eyes widened as she let her gaze flick around. She smiled, suddenly feeling that this assignment was not as bad as she first thought. True, they might be a bunch of murdering lunatics, but they certainly knew how to make a person comfortable. She gave Da’teril a smile as she passed him to get a better look around.

Disappearing in and out of the various rooms, checking out the bedroom and the bathroom, playing with the features, the smile on her face grew wider, as she realised that this underground house was better than the one she had back in Tartarus. She wandered over to the balcony, and let her eyes wander around the view, finding it strange not to see a blue sky with the sun beating down, or a grey curtain of rain.

A little while later, having seen as much of the accommodation as she could, she walked back up to her host, the smile fixed and huge on her lips. “This place is wonderful.” She waved her arms around her indicating her surroundings. “I think I’m going to start my time here getting used to the place, probably take a bath…the journey was so dusty.” She brushed a non-existent speck from her suit. “And then probably a meal and an early night, so that I may start my new role refreshed.”

As she spoke, she kicked off her shoes and wriggled her toes, feeling the life coming back into them. If stilettos did not look so good she would allow herself the luxury of a comfortable pair of shoes. “Unless, of course, you have something you would like me to do first?” She asked him, hoping that he was going to respond in the negative.

Da’teril shook his head as he smiled back at the Overseer, glad that the suite had pleased her. It was obvious she did not take well to the earlier scene, so the view of her new residence must have melted her. He observed in silence as she darted forth and from around the suite, vanishing in rooms to reappear moments later only to disappear in the other rooms and was somehow relieved she did not frown in disgust.

“No, my Lady, I shall leave you to your… when you are alone… uhm… privacy now.” He said as he inclined his head slightly, partially out of respect, partially to get a better glance at her toes. Indeed, he was quite curious how could the foot survive in the arrow heads that she was wearing moments ago, for it was impossible for the foot to fit into such little space. Women of his kin never wore such kind of shoes, preferring sandals at best and nothing at usual, exposing the feet of which they took great care, for beautiful feet usually meant that their ‘owner’ was quite skillful in erotic crafts.

The Lord and Ruler, however, couldn’t really make anything out of the feet of that woman from the Above. He never had any intercourses with slaves that came from the Above, for it was forbidden and he, as the Lord and Ruler, had to set a clear example and his rare missions in the Above never actually gave him the time to taste what the world full of sunlight had to offer. As such, he simply frowned as he raised his eyes to fix hers for a moment.

“Should you require anything, just say so to the Guards and they shall summon the needed… people to cater for your… requirements… needs!” He smiled as he turned around and walked towards the exit of the suite, vanishing behind the doors quickly enough, leaving Cassandra alone in her new residence.

Cassandra had been slightly taken aback…no, totally confused by Da’teril’s fascination with her feet. She had had people stare at her face and body before, she knew she had looks and was used to it, but her feet…she could not recall any other occasion when they had been the focus of someone’s attention.

She looked in his eyes as he made his final speech, and smiled as he turned and left her room. She watched the door for a moment, unsure why, and then focused her gaze on her feet, once more wriggling her toes, trying to decide what had drawn his attention. Shaking her head, she put it down to the fact that underground dwellers much be very strange…stranger than she had first thought.

Walking around the room, she once more looked over at the balcony and smiled as she walked through to the bathroom, quickly deciding which one best suited her purposes. It was not long before she slipped into the warm water of a steam pool, and lost herself to an hour of serious soaking.

On the following day, or at least that is what time it was in the Above, the Council met again to discuss some other issues, with the Lord and Ruler ever so attentive to what the Councilors had to say. The dispute of today was between the Mages Guild and the technologists from Kshas-Athun, the two factions divided on whether to replace the standard drilling methods by some new inventions. The Mages were completely against, putting forward the numerous malfunctions of the various machines constructed by the technologists and providing clear examples of how thaumaturgy always accomplished anything with greater efficiency. The technologists reciprocated with their own arguments, the debate yet again turning into a war of words between the Councilors.

Da’teril stopped following the debates once they went out of control, plunged into his own thoughts. And his thoughts went back to the sight he witnessed the previous day, his mind still puzzled by how a foot could fit into a point so narrow. He also wondered whether the feet the Overseer could really indicate her level of skill in erotic arts as they did for Shakhtal women. He sighed and looked up at the bickering that was shaking the walls of the chamber, shaking his head and raising his arm in a usual gesture, making everybody fall silent.

“The machines from Kshas-Athun shall be used for drilling purposes only in company with at least one authorized wizard.” He said in his language to the rest of the Council, striking a clear compromise between the two positions. “Should anything go wrong, the other side will make sure to remedy to the situation.” The Councilors nodded, taking mental note of the information as the Lord and Ruler stretched a little.

“Any other issues to debate?”

“Yes, My Lord,” a voice coming from the Mek-Tenerath section of the chamber said. “The Joint Traders Guild would like to discuss the issues on the slave market.”

“Go ahead then.” Da’teril said as he got ready to listen, rather glad that it was one of the issues that usually never raised any disputes within the Council.

“We deem that it would be wise to reform the slavery system we have today, My Lord.” Da’teril slapped his forehead and sighed, knowing for sure that in a few seconds, once the conservative ranks of the Council digested the proposition, the Chamber would yet again be shaken by insults and yells. And so it did...

The following morning, Cassandra blinked open her eyes, gazed at the ceiling and closed them again. After a moment, she repeated her process and then again, until her brain finally worked out where she was. She turned over and pulled the covers back over her head and fell back to sleep.

Several hours later, her head emerged and she once more opened her eyes, this time sighing loudly as she looked about her remembering that she was now living underground. The thought sent shivers through her body, as she sat up, and turned, placing her feet on the floor. Stretching her arms above her head, she yawned loudly and began her morning preparations, hoping that she would feel better doing so.

An hour later, Cassandra stood in front of the mirror, her body co-ordinated from head to foot in a pale blue suit, with dark blue piping, finished off with matching stilettos. She smiled as she primped her hair, arranging a couple of strands that refused to remain in place. Happy that she was looking her best, with her immaculately made up face; she picked up her bag and headed for the door.

Stepping out of the door, Cassandra turned hastily, almost walking into one of the guards positioned outside her apartment. She gave him a smile. “I wonder if you could point me in the direction of my office?” She waited for a moment, suddenly wondering whether he could understand her. “Off-ice? Can…you…take…me…there?”

The black guard, a seasoned warrior that had seen quite some battles during his lifetime, blinked at the Overseer, his colleague doing the same, as she tried to communicate. They could understand the language perfectly well, for it was for a reason that they were assigned to her security, for they learned to speak the High Gibberish under the Lord and Ruler’s direct orders. What they could not grasp, however, was the reason for her strange speaking, but the guard she was talking to decided that it must have been a custom of the Above to speak word by word. Not to mention the fact that the shoes she was wearing were strange, for due to their narrow nature, they could not imagine how a normal foot could fit into there.

He raised his eyes from her feet and looked into her own eyes as he talked to her in the ways of the Above. “Yes. You…” He said as he stretched his arm slightly towards her. “…follow…” He imitated a walking man with his hand. “…me…” He brought his arm back to rest it on the breastplate of his armour. “Right?” He smiled at her politely as he invited her to follow him through the corridor to a hall with some portals made of tall pillars with black swirling light between them. He smiled as he looked at her again. “We… walk… through… there…”

Cassandra smiled, glad that the men assigned to her door had a little understanding of her language; she had been worried that she might have to start trying to mime what she wanted. She followed behind them as they lead her towards her office, or at least that’s where she hoped they were leading her, she was not totally convinced of their ability to comprehend her wishes.

Her shoes clicked against the floor, echoing around them, making her feel a little more relaxed. She was used to walking down corridors back home where several people would have the same footwear, whereas here she had not seen decent pair of shoes on anyone, and she was slightly put out that everyone seemed to stare at her feet. But she put it down to their lack of fashion sense living underground and they were fascinated with the chance to see real class in a shoe.

“So…tell me…um…how far…is it?” She spoke slowly again, pronouncing every word crisp and clear. “Will…we…be…there…soon?” A little sigh escaped her lips; if this was going to be the level of conversation she shared with everyone but Da’teril she knew she would be mad within the week. She kept her fingers crossed that the people assigned to work with her at least had a fluent use of the language.

“It… is… not… far…” The Shakhtal soldier said as he smiled broadly, thinking to himself that the ones in the Above were all crazy due to speaking word by word and that he would soon join them in the realms of madness. With that, he walked with her through the portal and they found themselves in a circular hall, with several entrances. One consisted of gigantic dual doors, two three others were smaller in stature, with the central ones being a little more impressive and better decorated than the other two.

The circular hall itself recalled a waiting room, with several guards stationed the length of the walls, mingling with several portals similar to those through which Cassandra and her escort had come, and a pretty young woman smiling as she lay on a pile of pillows behind a low desk. The room was richly decorated and furnished. The Black Guard motioned at the greatest of doors. “This exit leads to the Citadel.” He said as he sighed, noticing that he forgot to speak slowly, but nevertheless continued as he motioned at the most impressive of the three smaller doors, by which the young woman was. “These… lead… to the… office… of the… Lord and Ruler.” With that, he motioned at the doors to the right of those of the Lord and Ruler’s chamber. “These doors… lead… to your… office.”

Cassandra followed the escort, her eyes flicking around trying to establish some landmarks so that she could find her way around. Noticing a few varying spots, her mind, though taking them in, was more intent of finding reasons why she was not going to enjoy her stay here. Not that she would be leaving any time soon, unless she could find a very good excuse to use with Emma Sarie, but for that to happen the Shakhtal would probably have to have her in a body bag.

Barely paying much attention to the guards, she finally reached her destination. As the man spoke, she stared at him, as he conversed to her perfectly, before returning back to the stilted form of speech they had been using. “You can speak normally?” She continued to stare, her voice rose several octaves, like it tended to when she was feeling a little put upon. “All this time I’ve been talking to you like an idiot and you could understand me?”

Her brows knitted and her forehead creased. “I suppose that was supposed to be funny?” She sighed heavily, and glared at both of the men, before storming off, her heels clicking heavily against the ground. She pulled open the door and disappeared inside, the resounding bang of wood hitting wood filled the air as the door slammed closed behind her.

Cassandra’s office was a spacious room, furnished in a style that she would have never expected to see beneath the surface. Indeed, if not for the stone walls and engravings on them, as well as an exit to a balcony overlooking a subterranean city, the room would have resembled an office of a high ranked personality: sturdy oaken desk with many drawers, a comfortable arms chair made out of the same material with a cushion to accommodate the back and bottom of the occupant, a pile of parchments, along with a set of quills and a bottle of ink. There was, however, no computer, mainly because there was nowhere to branch the power cord into.

Aside from the aforementioned items, the room featured a low glass table with a sofa and some chairs around it to accommodate those who desired a talk in more relaxed conditions. Several bookshelves stood the length of the walls, featuring books of various sizes, although all written in Shakhtal. A door on the side wall of the room led to a smaller locale, where one would find another couch along with some other items of furniture, a spacious shelf for the garments. Another door from that locale led to a small bathroom.

***

And while Cassandra was getting acquainted with her new working place, the two Black Guards responsible for her security stared blankly at each other, shrugging as one of them took position by the door to the office while the other one vanished in one of the portals.

Stepping through the door, still a little annoyed at the behaviour of her escort. She did not take kindly to being made a fool of, and although she had been the one to mistake their abilities, she could not help feeling that they should have made their fluency known. She let out a large sigh, and moved deeper into the room, her eyes instantly flicking to various aspects as they caught her attention.

Moving towards the desk, she brushed her fingers lightly over the surface, half expecting it to be a figment of her imagination. The chair – the first real one she had seen since she had arrived – made her smile with happiness. She had found sitting on cushions back in her apartment odd. Not that she found it uncomfortable, her rooms were very lavish for being underground, but there were some things that just took getting used to.

She walked around the desk and lowered herself into the seat, feeling herself growing instantly comfortable. The smile on her lips grew, as she let her eyes close for a moment, visualising her surroundings in a more familiar setting. If this office was set in a nation above ground then she would have been perfectly happy. Of course, the given time she was sure she would forget about not looking out of windows and seeing sunshine and rain. On the whole, the Shakhtal assignment was not a bad one, just different.

Opening her eyes, she looked at the desk in front of her and leant forward, pulling open one of the drawers. She rummaged about for a moment, checking each one in turn, before pulling out a notepad and sitting back in the chair. She frowned for a moment in concentration then began to make some notes for her first report back to the Empire.

And as the Overseer was busy making her notes, somebody knocked three times on the doors of her office and, without waiting for a response, opened it. That somebody was none other than the Lord and Ruler Da’teril, the man whom Cassandra met the day before in quite bizarre circumstances, but that day, at least, his hands and garments did not seem to be covered in blood.

The young Shakhtal leader greeted her in the local manner, by raising his hand to the mouth and extending it slightly towards Cassandra. He walked calmly towards the Overseer’s desk, smiling as he gave a glance around her office. And as he came up, he glanced at the desk and the arm chair for guests in front of it and, after blinking for a second, clearly confused, walked over to the couch from which he put the pillows down on the floor, sitting himself upon them comfortably.

“I came here to take… uhm… news?” He frowned and sighed. “Whether you appreciate your new working place?” He said with a smile as he tried to avoid getting into overly complicated phrases and really pondering using the easy way to master the High Gibberish… an easy way that he would have taken if not for his pride, arrogance and deep conviction that a Shakhtal is above everything and no barrier exist for one of his kin! No barriers, true, but a couple rakes lay waiting…

As Da’teril entered, Cassandra smiled, happy to see a familiar face. Getting up from her seat as he walked towards her, she indicated the chair opposite her own, and watched a little surprised as he walked over the to the couch and removed the cushions and placed them on the floor, before sitting on them. She suddenly realised that her brow was creased into a frown, and quickly replaced it with her usual smile.

“Lord Da’teril.” She moved around her desk, and walked over to where he was seated. Looking down on the ruler of the nation seemed a little odd to the Ambassador, and not wanting to appear rude, she grabbed a cushion and placed it on the floor, and lowered herself onto it, as best as she could. In her mind she was already worrying about the amount of creases her pale blue suit would acquire.

Having made herself comfortable, she tugged on the hem of her skirt, ensuring she was properly covered, and looked at Da’teril. “The office is wonderful. It’s like being at home.” She smiled, as she looked around the room, once more taking in her surroundings. “I couldn’t ask for better.” Her gaze once more fell on his face. “Thank you for making feel so…at home.”

Da’teril smiled approvingly as Cassandra sat herself on the cushion in front of him, smiling even broader as she thanked him for making her feel at home. “It is good to hear, My Lady, for I fear you will have to call Tal-lar your home for some period… euh… time to come. Do not worry, it is not as bad as it audits… hears…” A frown etched on his forehead and his blue eyes lit up with an icy fire as he fought to remain calm. “… sounds…”

His features relaxed as he continued. “I hope your first day at Tal-lar was a pleasant one. I know that you surface dwellers find some of our… our… taxes?” It would have appeared to those in the room that the air became a bit chilly all of a sudden as Da’teril’s eyes lit up again. “Customs!” The air returned to its normal temperature. “I have witnessed during the visit of the now Shokath-Kshas that, judging by the reaction of her… minions… servants to some of the events that… euh… came to be.”

After having listened to several hours of passionate debates on the future of slavery in the Five Citadels and got fed up to the point of ordering a recess, having to speak High Gibberish clearly took a toll on the Lord and Ruler’s patience. And yet he remained calm.

Cassandra listened, a smile on her lips, partly due to the man’s efforts at speaking to her. Not that she was unimpressed with his attempt, she knew she would be stumbling far worse if their roles were reversed and she had to attempt the small amount of phrases she had learnt in his language. “I’m sure it will grow on me in time.” She sighed slightly, wondering how long it would be before she once again felt the sun on her skin…still there were bonuses to staying covered up.

“Her Majesty gave a very glowing report of Tal-lar, or so I understand.” She smiled and nodded her head a little, as she shifted on the cushions trying to make herself comfortable. “I’m just hoping my stay is not as exciting.” Her thoughts returned to the incident in the meeting hall.

“Well…ah…I would offer you refreshments, but…” She shrugged slightly and looked around the room. “I don’t know where they are.” She let out a little laugh, and fixed her gaze on her companion. “To what do I owe this visit?” She lifted herself slightly off the pile and rearranged the cushions beneath her.

The Shakhtal Lord and Ruler nodded to the Overseer as he watched her rearranging the cushions, slightly amused by the scene. Indeed, the ones from the Above found sitting on solid elevated surfaces comfortable whilst the soft pillows made them wriggle. That was something he would yet have to understand, but, in the meantime, he had a question to answer.

“Oh, I just wished… wanted… wished… whatever… to clarify a double… pair… couple of details.” He paused for a second as he looked at her, his body not moving an inch as it rested comfortably on the pillows. “To start, let me say that you are granted exit… I mean entry to most locations in the Five Cities.” With that, he reached into his robes and took out a silver chain with a pendant made of a black metal with, in the middle, a sapphire, surrounded by silver runic inscriptions. The piece of jewelry was quite refined, the chain was thin and yet one would have quite some hardship breaking it, and yet it did not appear as something strictly decorative.

Da’teril handed it to Cassandra with a smile. “This is our… similarity… commonality… equivalent! This is our equivalent to those little cards you have in the Above. This will give you entry to the areas that you can… euh… go into. Moreover, should you be in… euh… mess… danger… trouble. Yes, should you be in trouble, press the gem and I shall know. If anybody other than you touch the pendant or the chain, I shall also know that you are in trouble.” He said as he looked quite seriously at the Overseer before continuing.

“I… counsel… advise! I advise you to stay away from Amanthir. The wizards do not like those from the Above. I also advise… attention… caution around the Magisteriums in the other Citadels. I also advise to always have a Dark Guard… Black Guard by your side during your… walks? exits? Those similar to you are mostly known as slaves around my lands. Just to avoid any… problems… mess.”

“I certainly do not want to go anywhere that will cause any problems for either me or those around me.” Cassandra once more wondered what she had been put into. First there was the scene in the council chamber, and now this warning that certain people were unhappy with having someone from above ground down here. She could not help feeling that the Empress had got the Empire mixed up with the wrong kind of people, not that she would ever voice her concerns openly, at least not in private.

She smiled at Da’teril, trying to appear at least unperturbed by his words. “Of course, I would like to see a bit of the area. And I will ensure that I have my guards with me.” She suddenly felt a little homesick. She missed being able to walk around shops, going out to lunch, sitting out in the sun. Shaking her head, she removed the thoughts quickly before she fell into melancholy.

“Is there anything you think I should do now that I am here, other than to observe and report back to Tartarus?” She brushed a couple of specks off of her suit, frowning slightly as she visualised the creases she must have following sitting on the floor. She was dreading catching sight of herself in a reflective surface. “Is there anyone I should meet or something?”

Da’teril nodded to Cassandra, noting her wisdom and tact in face of the clearly weird challenges that lay in front of her. “I shall show… introduce you to… uhm… officer… leader… Commander! I shall introduce you to Commander Lioth, the man in charge of the Black Guard. A very… uhm… precious? Important! A very important man for you to know, should need happen… come… arise for the Black Guard to fight for the Shokath-Kshas.”

He nodded as he paused for a second before resuming. “I have already shown you the Council, so unless you wish to greet them in some other… means… matter… way, I can always arrange for a specific… I mean special meeting.” He sighed and shook his head. “As of your duties, I shall need your… uhm… help in my dealings with the Empire. I have thrown… tossed… launched an expansion into the Above, which you have seen when you... euh... came. So far, we only have an airfield which we use for... uhm... ties? Communications? Which we use to communicate with the Empire. But I want to create more… euh… things up there. And I shall need the help of your guilds for that.”

Listening as he spoke, Cassandra instantly recognised the name of the Commander. The Empress had met him during her visit, and his details had been added to her file for reading. Not that she knew everything about him, but from what was mentioned, he seemed an interesting person, and one that did not want to see any harm come to her – her being someone from above ground.

“I am looking forward to meeting Commander Lioth. Her Majesty the Emp… Shokath-Kshas,” she smiled as she managed to slip in a little of their language. “She had only the highest praise for Commander Lioth and the Black Guard.” She could still remember seeing the pictures of the guards that accompanied Gehenna back to Tartarus on the television on they arrived.

“As to the council, it would probably be a good idea if I could meet them, but I am in no rush.” She gave Da’teril a smile. “I think they should have a while to get used to me being here. Change can be hard on some people.” And she said this from experience; there were still those in Tartarus who still were not used to the idea of a woman running the Empire.

Da’teril nodded to Cassandra, acknowledging her words. “Commander Kshaherat Lioth is the pride of my kin. And I hope our men shall serve the Shokath-Kshas well. Should she need any further… euh… more men, we shall happily, well, send them. ” He lay back on his cushions a little, getting a bit more comfortable and bringing some motion to his inactive members, so that to avoid any aches later on.

“And as of the change, I have to say that the Council’s reaction has been more… uhm… good… positive than what I waited… expected.” He smiled wickedly as the room became chilly for a second before returning to normal temperature. “But worry not; I am sure it will not take long for the wizards to accept you.”

“Now, however, I would want to speak about our mutual… waitings… expectations! Yes…” He pondered for a second before continuing. “I would, to begin with, like to hear what the Shokath-Kshas would like us to… uhm… do, or not do, for her both in the short period… term… both in the short and the long terms.”

Watching Da’teril as he made himself more comfortable, Cassandra wondered if she would ever find the ability to endure all this sitting on cushions. For one, she was sure it was not good for the posture. Shaking the thought from her head, she smiled at her companion as he spoke. To be honest, he made her smile every time her spoke…it amazed her that she had not just burst into peels of laughter. It was not like she was not impressed with his efforts, because she was very impressed with his use of Tartarian; it was just some of the things he had come out with.

“Lord Da’teril, as you know the reason I am here is as a bridge between Tartarus and the Shakhtal. Kind of like a telephone, I guess. If the Empress Gehenna has something she wishes from you, it will come through me, and if you have something that you want from her then you come through me.” She smiled, hoping that she was making sense. “I do not think that either party has any definite plan as yet, which is why I am here to ‘oversee’ the alliance between our two nations.”

She paused for a moment, letting that sink in before she continued. “I do know that the main goal of the Empress Gehenna is to build a friendship between our too nations that endures beyond the time that you are a protectorate of the Empire.”

Da’teril nodded pensively to the Overseer, frowning slightly as she used the word protectorate. He preferred the word servants, for a servant was not always under protection of his master, sometimes it was even the contrary…

“For my part, I have certain… requests to make, if I may lay… put it so. First of all, I shall compile a list of services we need from the Imperial guilds. Not right now of course,” he said reassuringly, “my technologists still need to… hmmm… understand what they want in the first place.”

He paused for a second before continuing. “Secondly, you must already know that we have… uhm… slaves. Worry not, we have never,” the expression on his face seemed most honest, yet nobody could tell for sure when a Shakhtal was lying or telling the truth, “supplied ourselves in the Empire. No need to… tease? To provoke the anger of such a powerful neighbour. We have sources elsewhere.” He looked Cassandra into the eyes before continuing. “I understand that those from the Above have a… negative… view of such… uhm… facts. However, I should ask that the Shokath-Kshas does not… euh… intrude into the system we have. It would be noticed… uhm… seen negatively by my kin.”

He paused for a moment letting Cassandra think everything over before continuing. “Should… hmmm… outlanders from the Above try to meddle, we shall… handle them, but I also expect the Shokath-Kshas to show support to us. If she can not… gift… give! If she can not give any support to us, then at least let her not give it to the outlanders.”

Cassandra listened and nodded, while still trying to make herself comfortable on the pile of cushions she was currently calling her seat. “Lord Da’teril, while Her Imperial Majesty has informed you that she will not interfere with the general running of your nation, she also cannot be seen to condone the use of slaves, a practice that died in the Empire a long time ago.” She smiled to ease his fears. “Of course, I cannot speak for her personally, but I know that should events arise from this fact then she will strive to aid in a peaceful resolution to it, and will not knowingly aid anyone against you, while at the same time, she may not be able to stand beside you.”

She stops, hoping that she had made herself plan, that her speech was mostly speculation based on reports and documents that she had read, and was not a verbal repetition of something the Empress herself had said. “Of course, the Shakhtal are a little known nation that is hidden in the bowels of the world, and it surprises me, if I can be brutally honest, that the Empire managed to gain contact with you.” She smiled, wondering if she had said too much, after all, she was meant to be cementing good relations here, not insulting the people she was here to work with.

“Your words do sound reassuring.” Da’teril nodded as he heard exactly what he wanted the Overseer to say. “I would have waited… expected nothing else of the Shokath-Kshas.” With that he paused for a moment, looking Cassandra over, raising an eyebrow curiously at her shoes before returning his gaze on her face.

“We are indeed quite… euh… silent? Not easy to spot. But your… watchers spotted us when we began building in the Above. Upon establishing talking… contact with the Empress, I have made the thought… euh… decision to enter her service.” He smiled at the Overseer. “As proud as we are, having a good shield is always useful.”

He looked around the room for a second before returning his gaze on her. “I have instructed the… euh… people who prepare food to order from Tartarus, for I doubt you shall appreciate our, well, meals right from the beginning… start… whatever. You should just tell them what to command, I mean, order.”

Cassandra’s gaze followed Da’teril’s as he looked at her feet, and rose back to his face, her expression detailing her confusion. She pushed the thought away for a moment, making a mental note to ask what the problem was once they had finished their more serious conversation. Of course, she felt a little uneasy, in case her appearance had slackening slightly, which would be a most disastrous thing to happen with a guest present.

“The Empress Gehenna is a most considerate woman and ruler.” She smiled, agreeing with her companion’s thoughts. “Of course, she is also very calm and unlike some nations, she does not resort to violence to solve her disputes. Of course, that does not mean that if Tartarus or the Shakhtal were in need of protection, that she would not defend them with the military.”

She shifted again on the cushions, giving the couch a very wistful look, before focusing back on Da’teril. “It is very kind of you to go to so much trouble. I appreciate it greatly, although I do hope that I will be able to sample life with the Shakhtal like the Shakhtal. I do not want you to think that I need to be treated with kid gloves…I mean, given too much special treatment.”

“Well, should need stand up… I mean, arise, the Black Guard shall gladly fight.” Da’teril nodded and smiled slightly. “And of course, we shall treat you the way you wish to be treated. But I do think that it would be best for you to… uhm… accommodate? Get accustomed to our culture and way of life step by step.”

With that he shifted slightly and stood up, offering Cassandra a hand to help her up. “I must… uhm… go away from you now. The Council is debating a very important, well, thing. Reform of the slavery system. If you wish to assist… attend, you are welcome, but I doubt you will hear anything else than insults and threats.” He grinned broadly, the expression on his face reflecting his amusement at what was to come. "The ways of my people are very... uhm... funny at times. And very annoying, too."

Cassandra graciously took his hand and allowed him to help her from the ground, her hand instantly smoothing out the creases from her suit. She gave him a smile, and paused for a moment in thought. “I would be delighted to attend, merely to get some idea of how your governmental system works.” She gently tidied her hair, brushing some loose strands away from her face, and finishing over her check, making sure she looked presentable. “I will be there merely as an observer, and should you decide that you wish me to leave for any reason, then you merely have to ask.”

She walked over to her desk, and stepped towards her chair, removing the jacket that she had rested over the arm. Slipping it on, she looked over at Da’teril. “Should I accompany you there, or would it be preferential to wait here, and ask my escorts to lead me there in a little while, so that you can get things arranged without having to concern yourself about me?”

“No, come with me.” Da’teril inclined his head and invited her to follow him as he directed himself out of her chamber and into the circular entry hall, where he and the Overseer were joined by one of Cassandra’s escorts. “I shall… uhm… make it that you can understand our tongue… I mean language.” The Lord and Ruler smiled at the Tartarian as they made their way towards a portal, which they took to find themselves out in a gigantic hall, with its ceiling towering somewhere in the darkness above.

The hall was full of people, wearing various garments, including recognizable warriors and wizards from the Black Guard. At one of the end of the hall were tall doors with, by their sides, galleries in several floors. Da’teril called in a wizard from the Black Guard and, upon saying him something in his language, inclined his head to Cassandra. “The Guards shall show you to your… ehh… seat. The wizard shall make sure you understand, well, what we say.”

With that, he directed himself to the tall doors which opened to let him in and then closed behind. People in the hall began converging towards the stairs leading to galleries and vanishing behind smaller doors that led to their balconies and lounges. Cassandra’s one was on the second level, towards the main entrance, from which she could see the statue to Sathala in all its splendour, the Lord and Ruler beneath it and the lounges of the Councilors along the walls. Her original escort tool position outside, guarding the entrance, whilst the wizard stood behind and slightly to the right of the comfortable arm chair which would soon be occupied by the Overseer for some time to come.

Following the wizard, who Da’teril had placed her under the instruction of, Cassandra moved quickly to her seat, while at the same time trying to look at everything going on around her. She eventually made it to her seat, her eyes flicking around the other people present, spotting a few faces that looked a little familiar from the last time she was in that room. Pulling down her jacket, making sure that it was hugging her body correctly, she smiled to herself, and settled in the event ahead.

She could instantly tell the difference as she listened to the voices around her suddenly become understandable. Although there was something strange, and she found herself watching people’s mouths as they spoke around her, finding it strange that she actually knew what they were saying. She silently wished that she had had this ability back when she was studying languages.

Sitting back in the chair, still finding the sensation of understand those around her, and yet find it oddly comforting not being surrounded by voices that were just releasing a noise, she looked over at Da’teril and waited for the meeting to start.

As the Council finished gathering, Da’teril looked about the room and clapped his hands three times. Upon which a man dressed in black hooded robes entered with a sand-glass, which Da’teril turned once, leaving the sand fall up to the last grain, which more or less made seven minutes, upon which he nodded to the man and clapped his hands three times again. The Arbiter, for this is how the Wizard assigned to Cassandra’s service quickly introduced him to her ear, inclined his head and directed himself out with the sand-glass, through the main doors, which were immediately shut, the sound of shutting locks resonating throughout the chamber as the lounges were sealed.

“This is a measure to prevent anyone from sneaking into the lounges to influence the results of the vote.” The Wizard behind Cassandra whispered in his own language, the Tartarian understanding every single word of it. Meanwhile, below, Da’teril watched the room over until his eyes reached the section occupied by the Councilors from Mek-Tenerath. “The High Steward of the Joint Trading Guilds shall speak.”

A man in one of the lounges stood up and rested his hands on the railing, bending slightly forward, watching the room over. He wore no robes, but a shirt and pants crafted in Shakhtal fashion, with a cloak over his shoulders. His face appeared rather aged, even if physically it looked young.

“Honourable Councilors!”

“Traitor! Traitor!” Was the first response from the lounges occupied by Wizards and nobles. Da’teril did not intervene for the moment.

“We must today face a sad reality in the fact that the slaves are not only a luxury, but also a burden! Yes, it has become quite difficult to procure efficient slaves from the Above, with all of their entities adopting a clearly abolitionist stance, a stance which has led to wars.”

“We can handle wars!” Went a cry from a Wizard, the cry caught up and joined by others as the chamber erupted into an uproar, forcing Da’teril to raise his hand swiftly into the air.

“If we would have been able to handle wars, I would still be your Shokath-Kshas as of now. Now silence and let the High Steward speak!”

The Chamber froze as a quiet whisper went about it, the High Steward continuing. “But the slavery system in its current state is also a burden on our commercial and productive systems. The studies led by my scholars yielded the conclusion that a person shall work better if it has the appropriate conditions and an acceptable reward!”

“Nonsense! Travesty!” The Wizards and nobles erupted into an uproar. “Filth! Scoundrel! You dishonour our Kin by your existence!” And at this precise moment the Herith section of the chamber erupted into anger, beginning to call the Wizards by all names possible. Da’teril’s hand darted into the year as an icy “Silence!” resonated throughout the chamber, bringing the dispute to a still. The Wizard near Cassandra bent slightly to whisper to her. “And this is just a debate on a reform of the system, not the abolition proper. But you shall see as it goes.”

Cassandra sat listening rather stunned at the debate happening before her. It was like something out of the history books as she heard the topic of the discussion, and was both surprised and alarmed as the two sides began to row between each other. She felt more that a little uncomfortable, being a stranger looking in, especially as she knew that there was those among the Shakhtal who were not happy that Da’teril had approached the Empress and had signed away the protection of the nation to her.

She was grateful when the Lord and Ruler finally brought the room to some order. Sitting forward in the chair, she let her eyes wander slightly around the group, trying to pick out who had been shouting, but gave up. She relaxed back in the chair, making the most of the momentary pause in proceedings, pleased that she could once more hear herself think, while wondering whether or not the same would happen once things started again.

“The High Steward of the Joint Trading Guilds shall now explain what changes the Guild he is representing wants to introduce into the existing system.” Da’teril’s voice sounded cold as steel in the silent chamber. The Councilor in question nodded as he cleared his throat before continuing.

“What we wish is not an abolition of slavery, but to introduce more organisation and order into the existing system. What we wish is for all slaves to be registered with a special service under the Shokath’s personal supervision. Each individual would thus receive a name and an identification number with which it could be tracked.”

“Get to the point!” Shouted a Wizard, several others picking up the words, as the High Steward glared at them. “Indeed, I shall be getting to the point. This organisation shall not only aid in tracking down the rare fugitives that we have, but also would allow to inspect violations of the other point that we are about to offer – limitation of owner rights on the slave.”

A quiet hiss went through the chamber, making the speaking man go silent for a second, launching a look about the chamber, his eyes suddenly fixing upon Cassandra before looking elsewhere. “What we propose is that such notions as physical punishment, exchange of individuals and reselling be subject to strict regulations. No master would be able to torture or kill the slave, no master would be able to separate families by gifting individuals to other masters, no master would be able to sell slaves outside of the authorized Mek-Tenerath bazaar.”

“Nonsense!” Exclaimed a voice, a part of the chamber picking the word up. “My owner rights are sacred and I do what I want with my property! Shall we also limit our rights on crawlers and spiders? Preposterous!” The one defying the High Steward could be seen in the Amanthir section of the Council Chamber, his hands on the railing of his lounge, as he looked about the other Councilors. “We have already played such games once and as result we are here!”

“Before we went too fast without thinking.” The High Steward responded abruptly. “And nobody denies your property rights on your slave, for we do not want to introduce the confiscation notion. Those violating the measures shall have to pay a fine to the Shokath, who shall then use the funds in the way he deems best to aid those slaves that are in need of treatment. Moreover, we also want all slaves of Shakhtal origin to be freed and be granted their rights back. We also wish for the abolishment of the laws which allow for the Shakhtal violating them to be sold off as slaves.”

A hiss immediately began to rise throughout the chamber as suddenly the Shokath’s arm flew up into the air, silencing all present. “What the High Steward proposes is not a review of the slavery system only, but of some parts of our ancestral laws and traditions.” “We feel that the laws we want to review are part of the slavery system and are to be treated as part of it.” Was the response, which made Da’teril pause for a second, as he pondered the information over.

“Now let me recapitulate. You want all slaves of Shakhtal origin to be granted freedom. That is one. You wish for the abolishment or review of the laws that allow to sell criminals and unsolvable debtors into slavery. That is two. You wish to restrict ownership rights on the rest of the slaves. That is three.”

“We demand that all of the restrictions be named and treated as separate points!” The wizard that spoke earlier shouted out, his intervention meeting an enthusiastic response from his counterparts. “You shall not interrupt me!” Da’teril hissed coldly and, even if his voice was quiet, all present in the room could hear it. “The Joint Trading Guilds wish for the registration of all slaves with a specially created service under my supervision. That is four. Unless the honourable Council wishes to view these as two separate points?”

The chamber met the call in silence, Da’teril nodding to himself. “Fine then. Now, those who wish to add to the High Steward’s arguments, speak up.” The chamber remained silent, Da’teril nodding to himself again as he looked up at the lounge where the Wizard still stood, ready to speak. “Those who wish to defy the High Steward’s arguments, speak up.”

Cassandra listened, and if she had wanted to speak she did not think that she would have been able to. The topic of the discussion was not one what she was particularly fond of. The thought that these people were discussing the buying and selling of people made her stomach churn. Hearing people spoken of as property was too much for her to really comprehend. She wanted to stand up and shout about the injustice of it all, but she could not, because she did not want to feel the weight of the masses coming down on her.

She looked at Da’teril, her eyes unable to hide the hurt and disgust that she felt. She did nothing than just sit and listen, hoping more than anything not to have a repeat of the previous show that had greeted her eyes the first time she has stepped into the room. At the same time, she was annoyed at her inability to do or say anything, so she just sat and listened, hoping that someone had some sense to vote out this barbaric tradition.

“The Guild I have the honour to represent wishes to disagree on some of the points expressed in the proposal by the Joint Trading Guilds.” The Wizard began his intervention from a straight entry into the matters, which caused a mysterious whisper to fly through the chamber before dying out. The man smiled and continued. “Whilst we could partially agree with the first point, meaning the granting of freedom to all slaves who share our blood, we completely disagree on the second point. The repealing of such laws would promote lawlessness from the part of those of our Kin, I specifically highlight the crimes of murder. I fear that such crimes would become routine should the laws be repealed, and we must not permit that our Kin be lessened by its own members.”

He paused for a second as a whisper of approval went through the room, the Wizard smiling again, content of the first reactions of the Council. Da’teril, for his part, stood motionless, his eyes looking not at the orator, but at the emptiness in front of him as he was plunged into thoughts, pondering and reprocessing each word said by the speaker. “As of the points three and four, I find them simply preposterous! How can you limit property rights on slaves? Either we respect our ancestral right to own slaves, either we renounce it completely, for there is no middle ground in such matters. And what do you choose, honourable Councilors? Would you renounce your ancestral rights?”

“Yes, we would!” Came a yell from the section occupied by Councilors from Kshas-Athun, the Councilors from Herith joining in. The Wizard only smiled. “Then we shall have a second Strife, for I shall not renounce my rights. And many are those who would think like me.” This time, the Councilors from Amanthir cheered the orator, joined in by parts of Tal-lar and Mek-Tenerath Councilors, the overall clearly forming the majority of the Chamber. The speaking Wizard grinned wickedly as he looked towards the Kshas-Athun portion of the Chamber. “As you can see, honourable colleagues, all this talking of ‘moderate abolitionism’ is futile. Either you are abolitionist and you assume the consequences, either you are respectful of the ancient rights and customs.”

With that, he stepped back into the depths of his lounge, taking his seat amongst several other Councilors from Amanthir. “Anyone else wish to speak?” Da’teril said as silence reigned over the Chamber. It was clear that the Council would reject the proposition of the Joint Trading Guilds. Yet, Da’teril did not call in the Arbiters to begin the voting. He remained still, plunged into his thoughts, until he raised his eyes up at the Amanthir section, switching them to that of Mek-Tenerath. “I shall speak then. In my opinion, the proposal by the Joint Trading Guilds is such a deviation from the ancestral Shakhtal traditions that it would require to be written on paper, with each word weighted and balanced to form an indivisible whole that we could ponder on. As such, I consider the proposition of the Joint Trading Guilds unacceptable in its current form and order them to come up with a detailed and elaborated text.”

The Councilors from Amanthir glared at the Shokath and it would have seemed that every lounge where a mage sat (not only that in the Amanthir section) was lit up by two small blue flames. It was obvious that Da’teril had just turned the entire situation upside-down and gave the Traders a second chance just as the Wizards were savouring their victory. “Anything else the Council wishes to debate?” Da’teril’s words were met with silence as the Shokath nodded. “Then I declare this seating of the Council over. I shall summon you, in any case, once the Joint Trading Guilds hand in the text of their… reform. Otherwise, the Council shall be summoned following standard procedure. I am grateful for your participation and am looking forward to working with you again.” Da’teril said with a grin as the locks of the lounges began to open up, the Councilors exiting them, the Chamber emptying steadily as the Shokath remained in the middle of the hall, plunged into his thoughts.

Cassandra sat quietly, as the room slowly emptied, her eyes finding and glaring at some of the members she has witnessed taking part in the debate, especially those that had so fiercely backed the slave. She knew that what was decided in the nation was none of her concern, but she could not help becoming annoyed at the topic of discussion, and on several occasion had had to refrain from shouting out for them all go gain some sense and ban the whole idea of slavery.

Once the hall had cleared of all but Da’teril, she left her seat and walked over to him, although stormed was probably a better description. “Can we go now?” She was so annoyed she could not even bring herself to greet him with her customary diplomacy. “I cannot believe that I just sat through that discussion.” Her normally calm voice was clipped and full of bitterness.

The Lord and Ruler remained plunged in his thoughts as the doors to the main hall of the Council Chamber opened, letting forth the quite annoyed woman that rushed up to him. He looked at her, silently, as if the thoughts he had were more important, before he spoke. “Well, I have warned you that it was a debate over slavery.” He was speaking in Shakhtal, yet Cassandra would still understand everything he said. “Yet what you have seen was quite a polite debate, considering the importance of the issue.”

He then looked around at the empty lounges that looked through the walls of the circular chamber, his gaze resting on some of them for a couple seconds before switching to another one. It was obvious from the expression on his face that he was thinking a million things over at the same time, anticipating, preparing his moves and calculating the odds. Finally, he looked back at the Overseer. “We can go now. Where do you wish to go? Or and would you rather we took the charm off you and I spoke in Tartarian?”

Cassandra shook her head, pleased to be able to converse properly. It was hard to be surrounded by people who all spoke a language that she did not. Despite her anger at the meeting she had just witnessed, she managed to smile. “I like the charm. !t makes me feel normal. Well, more like one of you.” She stopped wondering what had suddenly happened to her diplomatic skills.

“As to what I would like to do, I think I would appreciate something to eat.” She looked at her watch, even though her stomach was telling her it was at least time for some lunch. “Perhaps you would care to dine with me, and we can discuss some points that we might both have?” She gave him another smile, and flicked her eyes towards the main door. “Shall we?”

Da’teril inclined his head politely to Cassandra, his face registering no emotions. “If you wish something to eat, then we shall eat.” He followed her gaze towards the doors leading to the chamber and shook his head. “It would be a long walk. Let us use traditional means.” And as he said that, the surroundings went black and everything vanished, to replaced an instant later by a rather large room. In the center of it was a pool, large and deep enough to allow several persons to bathe in it, with a fountain towering in the middle of it, myriads of waterfalls running down its ornaments and sculptures.

On one side of the room were what seemed as entry doors, looking exactly like the ones Cassandra could have seen when she was taken to her study. That moment, however, she saw them from the inside. All around the pool were pillows and low tables. On the walls of the room were finely crafted tapestries depicting scenes from Shakhtal life and mythology. The walls themselves were made of stone and decorated with gravures and bas-reliefs. In some spots they featured openings that were filled with various books, a sort of replacement for bookshelves.

“This is where I take care of various administrative issues. What you from the Above would call… office.” He looked at Cassandra as he invited her to make herself comfortable by one of the low tables as he himself looked at the doors, which opened letting forth a Shakhtal woman. Da’teril told her to bring launch, the woman nodded and went out, never uttering a word. “Good then.” The Shokath said as he lowered himself down on some pillows, lying on them as he rested on his elbow. “Do you already have something you wish to discuss? I am all ears.”

Looking about the room as she entered, Cassandra had frowned as she realised dinner was going to be another sitting on the floor meal. Her brow creased, as she looked over her outfit, wondering why she never seemed to wear trousers. Skirts were not designed for sitting anywhere but on a chair. Lowering herself down onto one of the cushions, she pulled down at the hem of her skirt.

She made herself comfortable, or as comfortable as she could in the situation she was in and looked over at Da’teril, her eyes fixed to his face as he spoke. “No, I have nothing I particularly want to discuss.” She smiled, feeling a little awkward, nor wanting to say something she might regret. She was a visitor in his nation, after all.

Her eyes wandered around her surrounding, admiring the décor even if the room did not contain any chairs. “This is very nice.” She waved her hand in an arch before her to encompass the room. “And a pool, very exquisite.” Her smile grew at the thought.

“It is not as exquisite as you might think, for many of my kin like to have pools in the middle of rooms.” The Shokath said pensively. “We just preferred to give you an apartment and an office without them, for I know that it is not the habit of dwellers from the Above to have such things in the middle of their dining rooms.”

Da’teril shrugged lightly and finally allowed himself a small smile as he looked at the Overseer. “May I ask what makes you amused?” His smile remained on his lips as his face finally began to soften, surely the weight of the earlier debate slowly fading away, which made it clear that the question was made out of sheer curiosity and not because the Shokath deemed Cassandra’s behaviour improper.

Cassandra suddenly stopped smiling, and looked a little abashed. “Oh, I was just thinking about the pool.” She flicked her eyes over to it briefly, before returning her gaze to her host. “I was just thinking what a novel idea it was, having a pool in the room.” Her smile returned, as she felt herself growing more comfortable again. “It’s not something I see every day.”

She paused for a moment, as she searched for a new topic. “Your Council meetings? Are they always so fraught? I’ve been privy to two now, and I must say, they seem very…lively.” Her choice of word not exactly the best, but she was trying to sidestep away from declaring them violent and brutal.

Da’teril nodded slowly as his smile faded for a moment, his face becoming pensive. “It depends on the subject at hand. Some spark no other reaction than happy snoring from half the attendance, while the other half can be admired in its fight against sleep.” The Lord and Ruler grinned. “However, if the subject is serious and important in nature, those opposed to it shall do anything to make sure the debate is halted.”

It was at this moment that the doors to the room opened and several Shakhtal women, dressed into blue and grey dresses that presented a very effective compromise between leaving nothing to imagination and covering everything, came in with trays. And on the trays were a myriad of dishes, both stews and hard food, along with drinks. The servants placed the trays on the table between the Lord and Ruler and the Overseer and went away, without uttering a sound.

“These are what you would call employees. I do not keep slaves. I already have all the power in the nation, so having slaves in my position is simply futile.” He smiled, this time broader than before, as he looked the dishes over. None of them presented anything overly exotic and, even if they were done with local ingredients, were quite edible for somebody who had never tried Shakhtal cuisine before.

Watching as the women approached and laid down the food, Cassandra let his words fill her head, their arrival giving her time to think. Her thoughts were interrupted by newer ones that battled for recognition in her head. She waited before they were once more alone before she answered him. “I suppose that is no different from most government meetings.” She smiled, her eyes briefly travelling to the door. “Your staff, they do no speak at all in your presence?” She had been in the presence of the Empress and had witnessed her staff address her with at least a ‘yes, ma’am’, but never had she seen them silent.

Her eyes dropped to look at the food before them on the table, her attention momentarily lost from the conversation they were having, as she wondered which of the dishes was giving off the best aroma, all of them making her stomach indicate her lack of something to eat for a while.

“They speak if they have something to say.” Da’teril shrugged. “In our culture, a specific inclination of the head may mean more than a thousand words could express.” The Shokath smiled as he looked over the food, reaching for a basket of typically Above fruit, even if apples and grapes were overwhelmingly present. “We do have orchards on the slopes of the mountains where we grow some of the food that would be never replaced with what we grow d

He gave a glance at a pot of stew. “This would be crawler soup. Made out of crawler meat, even if it does taste like ordinary chicken. And speaking of chicken…” His eyes set upon a plate with a pile of crispy, golden chicken wings. “We also have some farms up in the Above. Most creatures that crawl in the caverns are quite delicious, but require a more… specific cooking.” Da’teril looked at Cassandra with a smile. “We also have some local wine.” He gave a glance at a pitcher full of blood red liquid. “Bottled in the Above and matured in our deepest caverns.”

As Da’teril detailed several of the dishes, Cassandra’s felt her stomach give an inaudible rumble and looked eagerly at the food, picking up a couple of the chicken wings, some vegetables, and an assortment of various other dishes. At that particular moment in time, she really would not have been put off eating crawlers, although she might have screwed her nose up briefly at the thought.

“So, tell me, Lord Da’teril, what does a Shakhtal do when they want to let their hair down?” She poured herself some wine, and took a sip, smiling as she lowered the glass. “That is very good.” Indicating the topic of her remark as she pointed to the pitcher, she took her first bite of her food.

The Shokath shrugged as he reached out for a pot of stew and, having opened it and enjoyed its aroma for a brief moment, plunged a spoon into its inside. “Anything from going out on a hunt to throwing an orgy.” Da’teril gave a slight motion of his head at the middle of the room. “That is one of the reasons pools come in handy.” He paused for a second, looking at the happily eating Overseer, before continuing. “For my part, I prefer studying the Above. A thousand years of isolation has left us quite ignorant, unfortunately.”

He withdrew his spoon finally from the pot as he began eating his soup. “So I believe it is as in any other nation around. People do what they like best.” He paused suddenly as a smile etched on his face. “We even have our equivalent of night clubs. Although I guess you would find the music quite… particular. But I could show you one anytime should you wish to. You are the Overseer, after all.”

“I am most interested in learning more about the Shakhtal and their methods of entertainment.” Cassandra picked up a piece of chicken and nibbled it, falling quiet as she ate. “And I doubt that your music is any more…obscure than some other nations around the world, cultures all have their own tastes, their own instruments and other influences which affect their music.” Her eyes flicked over to the pool in the centre of the room, and then back at the Ruler. She tried to hide a grin as an image of frolicking women bathing in the room as he studied a book came to mind. “But I would be most grateful to you if you could, if not show me then at least, point me in the direction of places to visit.”

“Oh, it would be with great joy that I would show you our places of interest.” He said as he savoured his soup, alternating it with some fruits and vegetables, not forgetting the wine. “On the condition that you would do the same for me during a visit of mine into Tartarus.” He smiled as he extended his goblet of wine slightly into Cassandra’s direction, inclining his head a little as he did so. “I am quite glad with the choice of the Shokath-Kshas for Overseer. I was afraid I would end up with an old gentleman that would rumble into his beard over everything.” He chuckled as he sipped his wine. “I have to admit that I was both surprised and relieved when I saw you enter the Council Chamber.”

Cassandra laughed. “To be honest, there was one short-listed but I just managed to pip him at the post, as they say.” She prodded a vegetable with her fork, and popped it into her mouth, chewing and swallowing before she continued. “Of course, I was surprised to be given such a role. My last post was a roving ambassador, which meant I visited here, there and everywhere.” She frowned a little. “It was nice in a way, because it meant I got to see a lot of places but I never really stayed anywhere long enough to get a feel of the people and the nation.” She gave Da’teril a smile, before taking another sip of her wine. “Here I should gain a good understanding of how the Shakhtal go about their day to day business, and see what makes you all tick.”

Her eyes found his, as she stopped all actions. “As to your visit to Tartarus, if I am given leave to, I would be honoured to show you around the Empire.” She shook her head and laughed lightly. “I feel sure that the Foreign Ministry will pick you a more suitable tour guide for your visit.”

“The Empire? Oh, no no! It is way too huge for a single visit. I was thinking just Erebus.” Da’teril blinked as the idea of travelling all over the Empire hit his mind and he imagined the vast reaches of the nation with which they shared the same ruler. Indeed, for one who lived all of his life in spaces limited by walls and ceilings, with rare glimpses of the blue skies, the size of the Tartarian Empire was quite intimidating. “And I am sure the Shokath-Kshas will not refuse her loyal servant his own choice of guide.” The Lord and Ruler smiled again.

He put his now empty pot of stew besides and reached for a plate with chicken wings. He gripped one with his fingers and nibbled on it a little. “As of your own visits here, simply tell when you are ready. The Council shall not meet again before quite awhile and things are running very smoothly. So to say, I can allow myself some holidays.”

Cassandra leant of the table as he spoke, and helped herself to another portion of various dishes, trying to try at least a little of everything. “The Empress may want me to remain here and continue to do the role I was given, but I suppose we should not give up hope so soon.” She looked at the food she now had on her plate, trying to decide what to try first. “And I did not mean the Empire as a whole. Even I cannot claim to have seen that much of it, and I’ve lived there all my life.” She gave him a smile, before just stabbing her fork into her plate, and letting Fate decide her next mouthful.

Da’teril shrugged as he sipped some more wine. “We could always come up with the excuse that observing the behaviour of a Shakhtal Lord and Ruler when in the Above is part of the program to study the Shakhtal.” He chuckled; his actions paused to admire the vivacity with which the Overseer was trying out the dishes.

“If you want to read some written works, I suggest visiting the Arcanum. If you wish to talk with people, then I can always arrange for those you wish to speak to. Feel yourself at home and be free.” Da’teril smiled pensively. “The Shakhtal are suspicious of those who are acting oddly, for they think that the latter are plotting something. If you behave naturally, you shall have no problems. You shall soon find out that the Five Citadels are not that dark a place as they seem and that they are quite lively. Many things forbidden in the Above by myriads of beliefs or laws here are either tolerated or permitted.”

“I hate to be so blunt, Lord Da’teril, but it is not hard for anyone here to notice that I am different. My entry into the Council Hall was more than enough evidence of that.” She frowned, her food once more forgotten. “Half the people here already view me as suspicious, and the others would probably like to feed me to the crawlers or some other such horror.” She lowered her eyes to her plate and frowned. “I’m not expecting to be the most welcomed person in the city, but being one of the most loathed without having to do anything is a very strange feeling.” She looked up at him, meeting his eyes. “As for the Five Citadels, there will be things there that will be strange to me, Tartarus is a strict nation, but I hope with time, I will grow used to your customs.”

Da’teril shook his head as he smiled. “Wizards hardly account for half the Shakhtal. They are one of the most powerful factions around here, of course, but do not be so pessimistic.” He spoke softly, reassuringly. “Many of the Councillors, I saw, were actually quite intrigued by you, in the good sense. Especially the ones from Kshas-Athun.” He chuckled and shook his head a little. “The warriors from Herith are a stiff bunch, but I did not sense any hostility in them. As of the Traders, you shall see that they adore you. After all, you are the representative of a gigantic new market for their jewellery, textiles and other exquisite Shakhtal products.”


He smiled again, looking at Cassandra. “Your first interactions with the Council happened at the wrong time, but I assure you that everything is not as bad as you think. True, the Wizards do not like you because they see you and the Empire as a threat to such a wide variety of things that I will not even dare elaborate out of fear that my tongue would fall off.” He paused for a brief moment, sipping his wine and looking at the Overseer pensively. “And worry not; I shall make personally sure that you are safe.” He smiled and inclined his head a little, his words seeming not official, but actually ones a friend would say.

“I’m not expecting miracles, Lord Da’teril. I will take each day at a time and wait and see what happens.” She lowered her fork and laid it across her plate, not being able to eat another bite. “After all, I am here on the order of Her Imperial Majesty to ensure that both sides know what the other wants. I am the bridge between our two nations.” She laughed a little at the thought. “I would like to feel welcomed here, but I guess it’s not necessarily part of the job description.” She took a sip of her wine, and cradled the glass in her hands. “Thank you for dinner, it was most delicious.”

Da’teril inclined his head in return to her words. “Thank you for honouring me with your presence. It has been some time since I had an enjoyable discussion with somebody who was not jumping to his warrior or hunting or… uhm… other exploits each second.” The Lord and Ruler sighed and shook his head. “As of the quality of the dinner, I am afraid you shall have to thank my personal cook.” He smiled as he said that. “Now, do you already know what you wish to do now that you have squelched your hunger and thirst?”

Cassandra frowned. “As much as I don’t want to, I suppose I should do a little work.” She smiled brightly. “The sooner I get starter, the sooner I will get some free time to look around the city and get to see all the wonders that you have spoken of.” Placing her glass on the table, she looked at Da’teril. “It has been a pleasure getting to know you.”

“The pleasure has been all mine.” Da’teril said with a cunning smile as he stood up from his pillows and offered Cassandra his hand to help her up. “Your office is on the left once you enter the circular antechamber. Should you require anything, I shall most surely still be here.”

The doors opened again and the servants of before came in to take away the remaining food, yet again in silence, even if they shot periodic curious glances at the Overseer.

Rising from the floor with the Ruler’s help, Cassandra smiled as she brushed her hand over her outfit, checking for and removing creases. “Hopefully I can repay the favour and offer you dinner some time. Until next we meet.” She shook Da’teril’s hand, and made her way over to the door. The stares of the others in the room bothering her, but she managed not to show it as she walked out of his office.

Da’teril followed Cassandra with his eyes as she left the office, his gaze then resting upon the two servants. The two girls bit their lower lips to suppress giggles, yet failing to do so and soon erupting into joyful laughter. The Lord and Ruler shook his head and sighed as he directed himself out of the room and into the circular antechamber. The local equivalent for secretary greeted him with a smile, he simply nodded to her in return.

“I want to see Commander Lioth in urgency.” The woman nodded and Da’teril directed himself back into his room, crossing the two servants on their way out as they carried the remains of the dinner. The two girls yet again shot curious glances at the Shokath as the man remained composed, returning their look with icy eyes, which made the two servants accelerate their pace and vanish out of sight soon enough.

The Shokath went back into his office and headed through it, towards the giant balcony which gave on the city below. He narrowed his eyes as he looked down below, through the darkness, at Tal’lar. “My Lord?” He heard a familiar voice behind. Da’teril turned around to find Commander Lioth before him.

“Swift as usual, my friend.” Da’teril said with a smile as the Commander of the Black Guard inclined his head respectfully. “I wanted to talk about our operations in the Above.” The Lord and Ruler invited the Commander to follow him back into the office, where the two sat down on some pillows and, sharing a Shakhtal drink, began discussing the issues at hand.

Cassandra returned to her office, grateful for the security detail she had been given who made sure that she arrived back at the right place. She settled down to do some work, but was unable to brush away the events of the day from her mind. From the council meeting to the strange look she had been receiving, she finally decided that the day had been long enough, and little under an hour from arriving back at her office, she left and headed off to her rooms.

Once inside, she kicked off her shoes, feeling much more comfortable with her feet free from their prison. Fashion might be important to the Ambassador, but when she was on her own, she liked nothing better than to chill, which usually meant sitting around in jogging pants and t-shirt, though she felt unable to make herself that much at home just yet. She was never certain if someone would come to her door, and she wanted to make sure she made the right impression from the beginning.

The rest of the evening, she did little other than read a book, soaked in the bath and basically lounged around, until finally sleep began to call her. At a time much earlier than she was used to, Cassandra climbed into bed and let herself drift into dreams, hoping that the following day would not be quite so eventful.

And the following day was quite uneventful indeed, as well as the day after, and so on and so forth. Daily life in Shakhtal citadels could appear boring to a stranger, but that is if Cassandra did not take her chance to explore it. And if she did, many things would be open to her, from training halls where recruits for the Black Guard were learning to become the ruthless and fearsome warriors for which the Guard was known, to dance schools halls where young Shakhtal women and some men were learning the art of Shakhtal dancing, that conveyed both elegance and passion proper to the entire kin.

There was also the Magisterium of Tal-Lar, and if she went out into the city, there were flamboyant market places and all sorts of other entertainment. After all, the fact that the Shakhtal lived beneath ground in the relative shades of the caverns (with some light still coming in with the aid of carefully drilled tunnels and mirrors) did not deprive them of their wish to amuse themselves and generally have fun, in between exterior or interior wars. As far as Tal-lar went, Cassandra could feel entirely safe, for the most attention she got were curious looks of the inhabitants, who recognized in her a sure representative of their new Shokath-Kshas, whom they have never seen and, truth be told, did not really care to see. Nothing has changed for the overwhelming majority of the Shakhtal and everybody hoped it would continue on like that for ever.

Da’teril seemed to have vanished somewhere, and all the Overseer could have got if she asked about his whereabouts was that the Shokath-Kshas… euh… the Shokath was tending to his duties. Until, the morning of a day, the latter being certain due to the cavern being brighter than at night, a parchment with Da’teril’s handwriting lied waiting on the table in Cassandra’s office.

Esteemed Overseer,

My apologies for my absence, yet I had to tend to some duties within my realms, more precisely at Kshas-Athun . I can inform you that I have been most satisfied with the performance of my subjects and am now moving on to tend to some issues in Amanthir.

Yet, I already have a request for you, which I would be grateful to if it was accomplished speedily. I require all information available on Tartarian companies that specialize in construction on a high scale, specifically those that have expertise in setting up the needed infrastructure for a city, as well as military installations. Moreover, I need to know which ones of these can be the most trusted with keeping information to themselves and not spreading it to the general public.

Furthermore, I am certain you are familiar with the project we are leading in the Above, for which the assistance of the aforementioned companies is required. We have, as of late, been receiving some unwanted attention from certain entities from the Above. As such, I wish to inquire whether it would be possible to pass our city in the Above for a project of the Tartarian State, or create any other legend that would allow us to not attract any unwanted attention just now.

I look forward to meeting you again upon my return from Amanthir, and so I wish you all the best,
Shokath Da’teril

Cassandra spotted the note immediately as she entered her office. She was a tidy person, to the point of fussy, which meant that if anything was out of place, her eyes would pick it out easily. She walked over to the desk, dropped her belongings into her chair and picked up the letter. The writing instantly gave away the author. Running her gaze over each line of text, she smiled, knowing that it would be easy for her to arrange appropriate assistance.

The Empress set a hit store on her protection of the Shakhtal, and the stipulation that it was to remain private would be easily managed. Placing the letter back down onto the table, she picked up her things, putting them into their usual homes, then settled down into the chair, and began writing her communication to Tartarus requesting the information that Da’teril had requested.

She finished the task quickly, and the message was sent. Sitting back in the chair, she wondered what it was that had tied up her host away from his usual business. After what she had experienced so far since her arrival, she was certain it was better for her not to know.

Hours passed into days and days passed into months, which sped by unnoticed as life in the five citadels went about its routine. At least, it would have seemed to the casual observer than nothing new was brewing, yet it was not entirely correct. In the Above, the sixth “citadel”, which in fact was built following the patterns adopted by surface dwellers, came into being, growing and expanding.

Tartarian companies were doing excellent job on their tasks, building infrastructure and installations. And while they worked, anonymous men in camouflage and full helmets that hid their faces behind what looked like night vision goggles patrolled the outskirts and sometimes came to inspect the progress. The pay checks were never late and the employers let the Tartarians do their job without interfering too much.

The sixth citadel, which was still without a proper name and was referred to as the “Citadel Above” by the Shakhtal leaders, was situated in a valley surrounded by mountains, on which the “men in camouflage” set up observation posts. Not so much to spy on the workers but as to secure the perimeter. It was unclear what threat they were dreading exactly, but no incidents ever occurred.

It was on one of these posts that Da’teril stood along with Commander Lioth, looking down at the valley below and at the construction sites.

“Everything is moving ahead on schedule, My Lord. The Shokath-Kshas’es workers are doing an excellent work,” the Commander said, the smile on his face hidden by the helmet.

Da’teril turned his head to face Lioth with his “goggles”. “Have the workers exercised unneeded curiousity?”

“Not at all, My Lord. They are building, planning, designing. We are paying.”

“Then it seems the Overseer has come up with a wise choice…” Da’teril hummed to himself as he crossed his arms on his chest and looked down below. “These goggles are truly excellent. I shall have to provide further support to the Technologists in the future.”

“And anger the wizards, My Lord?”

“They are already angry, my friend. Besides, I have taken a proactive stance and solved several problems several months ago already, so the Wizards should be no problem.”

“And what about the Foreigners?”

“The Shokath-Kshas seems quite intent on fulfilling her duties and keeping us as secret as possible. Although our abolitionist friends already know… Yet, with Sathala’s help, they shall not be of any issue.”

The Commander nodded and remained silent. He was in charge of the armies and, on this occasion, in charge of overseeing the “Citadel Above”. The politics, plots, conspiracies and backstabbing were the realm of politicians and diplomats and Lord Da’teril excelled in every single of these fields.

The Shokath, in the meantime, gave one last glance at the valley beneath before turning to face Lioth once more. “I shall now return to Tal’lar, my friend.”

The Commander inclined his head in return as Da’teril vanished in the split of a second. The de facto ruler of the Skakhtal was back in his “office”, in his usual clothes, the camouflaged fatigues having vanished during his “trip”.

Yet he was not alone in the chamber, for a group of Shakhtal was already waiting for their leader’s appearance.

“Lord Da’teril!” One of them exclaimed as he kneeled down to open a chest that was standing by his feet.

Da’teril walked over slowly and, lowering himself down, took hold of the object within the chest and then straightened up, bringing along a fine dress. Yet, it was no simple dress, for over a layer of soft white silk were ornations made of silver. Intricate motives depicting a myriad of scenes ran all over the fabric. And even if that was not enough, the dress was quasi-entirely fitted with rubies and diamonds of all possible sizes. Groups of stones were gathered in elegant motives, the whole dress truly being full of splendour, worthy of Gods themselves. On the backside, it was quite heavy, but then again, only those strong ruled over the Shakhtal.

“It is the exact copy of the Karetsah Ruby Dress which was held by the abolitionists.” The craftsman’s eyes were full with pride and it appeared they were shining so brightly as to chase away the darkness that reigned in the Shakhtal citadels. “I can still remember the touch of the ruby dress on my hands. And now I can feel that touch again. It is perfect, just as the original was before they lost it!”

The excitement and pride of the artisan could be understood. The so called Karetsah Gem Dresses were ordered by Uidath for his mistresses and have since then been passed on from generation to generation. The ruby, sapphire, diamond and the greatest of all - the emerald - dresses, four in total. Following the Strife, the four relics, among many others, were abandonned to the "Abolitionists" and, thus, lost by the Shakhtal.

The sapphire, diamond and the emerald dresses passed on to the Shakhovskoy, while the Tal-Nash somehow managed to acquire the ruby one. The rumours, however, went that the Karetsah Ruby Dress was later on lost by the Tal-Nash during one of their own internal conflicts. Nobody has seen the dress for centuries. So if the rumours about the absence of the original proved to be true, then Da'teril was sure to strike a great blow to the descendants of the "Abolitionists" and to their pride with the master piece he held in his hands.

And so he smiled with mischief and nodded to the craftsman, putting the dress carefully back into the chest and closing it. “It is excellent work, Master Kiralth. I shall not forget your deeds,” the Shokath said to the aging master.

“Lord Da’teril, all your wishes are my orders.”

The Shokath inclined his head slightly and then summoned a servant, the young girl peering into his “office” through the half-opened doors.

“Send for the Overseer. We have a gift... or a tribute... for the Shokath-Kshas ready.”

Cassandra stood up from her desk, stretching some life back into her body. She had been spending so long sitting down each day that she was beginning to wonder if she would eventually lose the ability to stand. She rubbed her hands against the lower part of her back and sighed. Looking down at her desk, she noted the various pages spread across it, notes on the construction of the Citadel and reports on the general feelings of those around her.

She picked up one piece of paper, scanned her eyes down the length of it and placed it on top of the appropriate pile, before scribbling down a note on another piece of paper. She was just about to lower her stiff body back into the chair, when her attention was grabbed by the arrival of one of Da’teril’s staff.

Following a brief conversation, Cassandra informed the young woman that she would be along presently, and walked over to where she had placed her jacket. She slipped it on, taking a moment to check out her appearance in the mirror. She frowned as she looked at her reflection, frowning at the image that looked back at her.

“I really need to get more sun,” she told her reflection, as she ran her fingers over her cheek. “I’ll be milk white in another month at this rate.” She brushed her fingers through her hair, and checked her make up, then turned towards the door, satisfied that she was looking decent enough to pay a visit to Da’teril.

Following the usual procedure, she was accompanied by her two ‘guides’, she did not like to think of them as body guards, as that made her feel like every time she left her rooms she was at risk of never making it back. And although she was sure of her way to certain areas, it made her feel more relaxed to know that she had her ‘guides’ to ensure she would not get lost.

It was not long before she found herself outside the familiar entrance to Lord Da’teril’s office. She knocked lightly on the door, passing a few words with her companions as she waited to be invited inside.

Da’teril inclined his head to Master Kiralth as they shared an other round of conversation and then grinned, turning on his heels to face the doors leading into his cabinet. The latter opened, seemingly without outside intervention, revealing the Overseer and her two guides.

“Ah, Esteemed Overseer, pray enter.”

Da’teril gave her a polite inclination of his head as he waited for Cassandra to join him, before turning a little to Master Kiralth.

“This man, my Lady, is Master Kiralth, the best Shakhtal garments craftsman. And also the one entrusted with keeping and safeguarding one of our oldest relics.”

With that, he lowered himself down to the chest standing at their feet and extracted the dress again, its red and white colours somehow managing to play in the shades that reigned in the room. He held the dress in his hands in front of the Overseer, the diamonds and rubies of which it was made sparkling cheerfully.

“This is the Karetsah Ruby Dress, a relic aged dozens of thousands of years. ” Da'teril paused, leaving the Overseer the time to take due notice of the garment he was holding up, before he continued. “It has been a custom for a female Shokath-Kshas to wear the dress. And, as such, it is my pleasure to announce that Master Kiralth has accepted to entrust it to Her Imperial Highness, so that she may wear it for in as long as she is the Supreme Lord and Ruler of the Kin and, thus, preserve the ancient traditions.”

Cassandra entered and greeted both men, then stood silently as Da’teril spoke, her eyes taking in the garment he was showing her. She smiled, impressed with the workmanship involved in such an item. The diamonds and rubies catching the light and sparkling as it moved in the man’s arms.

“Lord Da’teril, I will arrange for a meeting with Her Imperial Majesty, and transportation for Master Kiralth to and from Tartarus. I will also make certain that a high level of security is provided.” She looked at Kiralth. “It must be an honour to be given such a task in life, yet I imagine one has to be very wary of people in such a position.”

She once more smiled and turned her attention to Da’teril. “I know that Her Imperial Majesty will be honoured to keep one of your traditions. It has been her wish to leave the Shakhtal unchanged while it is under her protection, helping to keep it as untouched by Tartarian hands as she can. I believe my being here and the work that our people are doing for yours are the only instances of Tartarian involvement. Other than keeping your nation a secret from those that you do not wish contact with.”

Kiralth smiled and inclined his head in acknowledgement of Cassandra’s words. “Next to my duties as guardian of the Dress, I am also a very sought after craftsman in the Five Citadels. Many of powerful Shakhtal lords and their families wear garments tailored and fashioned by me and my apprentices. And so, when one has many that are interested in his continued well being, the burden of guardianship is not that heavy.”

Da’teril chuckled and shook his head lightly as he listened to the craftsman. He then turned to face Cassandra. “I shall send a team of my Black Guards along with you and Master Kiralth.”

To the unspoken question in her eyes he immediately provided an answer. “Yes, you, My Lady. I want you to personally accompany the Dress to the Shokath-Kshas. You are one of the very few surface dwellers I can trust and rely upon.” Da’teril grinned as he looked at the Overseer. “Moreover, some surface light shall surely do you good, My Lady. And I shall make sure the Five Citadels do not go to outright hell during your absence.”

He paused and then extended his hand, which now held a rolled parchment that wasn’t there a second ago, and gave the scroll to the Overseer. “And while you are there, I want you to hand this letter to the Shokath-Kshas in person. It contains advice on the dress, as well as some minor requests I have concerning her role in our society.”

Cassandra listened to Da’teril, surprised when he mentioned her travelling to the surface, especially when he spoke of getting some sun. There were times when she wondered how much of her thoughts were shared with those around her that she did not know about. She quickly brushed aside the thought, becoming once more her professional self.

“I would be honoured to carry your message to Her Imperial Majesty, but I truly believe that anyone who was bound to the task from Tartarus would do as reliable a job as me.” She smiled, inwardly grateful for the chance to once more feel the rays of sunlight on her skin. She had on occasion gone to the surface to see the work that was being completed, but never remained long enough to get any real benefit from it. “And I have no doubt that the Five Citadels will be still standing upon my return.”

She held the parchment in her hand and gazed between the two men before her. “I will wait upon instructions of when you are ready to leave before making the final preparations with The Empire.” She looked at Da’teril, waiting to see if he wished to add anything else.

The Shokath had nothing to add and so everybody was politely dismissed. The Overseer catered to organisation the Tartarian side of the “delivery”, whilst Da’teril arranged for several Black Guards to travel along with Master Kiralth. After all, except for a select few, everybody considered the Ruby Dress to be the original, and so nobody wished it to disappear again. Half a dozen of the most trusted and seasoned Black Guards were chosen as Shakhtal escorts for the chest. The chest itself was made in the best traditions of Shakhtal craftsmanship, and could resist any shock, physical or thermal.

It did not take long for everything to be arranged. Cassandra called in a Tartarian jet complete with Imperial security officers and everything needed for a safe delivery of the quite important package. The departure was set before dawn, when the rays of the sun have not yet begun to caress the high mountain peaks which housed Shakhtal citadels.

Master Kiralth led the team of six Shakhtal soldiers, all clad into camouflage combat suits, all wearing full helmets and faces hidden, wielding what appeared to be Shakhtal equivalents of assault rifles. Two of them were holding the chest with the dress, while the others formed a protective perimeter around the robe and Master Kiralth. The Overseer was walking nearby, as always accompanied by her two guides, this time clad not into the armours of the Black Guard, but into camouflage combat suits.

The landing strip was devoid of life, except for the Tartarian officers, “men in camouflage” position around the perimeter and, of course, the escort for the package. And to wish them a farewell, Lord Da’teril himself came above, dressed into his usual robes. He inclined his head a little to the Overseer.

“I trust there should be no problems. Allow yourself as much time in Tartarus as you require, My Lady. Should I be needed, you know how to contact me.” With that he smiled, clearly referring to the pendant he offered her in the very first days of her stay at Tal’lar. “Please pass my warmest regards to the Shokath-Kshas.”

With that he motioned at Cassandra's two bodyguards. “If Your Excellency deems their presence is not needed, then they shall remain here. Otherwise, they are at your full disposition, as always.”

Cassandra stood looking at Da’teril, her mind still in a whirl at how quickly her going home had come around. She seemed to be in constant contact with the palace, arranging for transport to take them back to Tartarus and a meeting with the Empress. She had been so busy that she had barely noticed the days fly by. She smiled at the man before her, finding it hard still to think of herself living above ground for a while. She had actually grown quite accustomed to the place.

Her fingers instinctively moved to her pendant as the Shokath mentioned it. “I will be in contact should I need, but I am sure that I have ample protection.” She looked briefly at the accompanying soldiers. “I will ensure that your gift reaches Her Imperial Majesty, and we will return shortly once our task has been completed.”

Dropping her hand to her side, she turned and faced one of the Tartarians who had accompanied the plane. “Are we loaded and ready to leave?” She asked, receiving a brief affirmative in return. Her attention once more focused on the Shokath. “Lord Da’teril, we bid you farewell for the time being. I will send word once we are to return.”

Finishing up her farewells, Cassandra climbed the steps of the plane, the others who were to accompany her following behind. She paused at the top, and smiled down at Da’teril, then disappeared inside the body of the plane.

* * * * *

Alex knocked lightly on the door to the Empress’ office, waiting for her reply before pushing open the door and stepping inside. As he entered, the young woman sat behind the desk met his eye with a smile.

“Your Majesty, we have just received word that Ambassador Darlington and the delegation from The Shakhtal have left.” Alex announced once he was closer to her desk.

Gehenna smiled. “It is indeed a surprise to have The Shakhtal wish to visit. Lord Da’teril seemed so keen on remaining a secret. I trust that this gift that they wish for me to receive will not cause them any problems.” She looked at the clock that rested on the mantelpiece above the fire. “Inform me once they are one hour away, and make sure that they transport to bring the party to the Palace is in place.”

“Yes, Your Majesty.” Alex smiled, waiting to see if he was required for anything else, but a few words from Gehenna had him leaving her to continue her work while he returned to his own.

* * * * *

Cassandra looked out of the window, watching as the flurry of fluffy clouds passed by beneath them. She paused in her viewing and turned to the craftsman sitting nearby. “Tell me, Master Kiralth, is this your first time in a plane?” She had been wondering during the first few hours of the flight if many of The Shakhtal had taken to the air before, and as the saying goes, curiosity finally killed the cat.

The craftsman opened his eyes and looked at the Overseer, a mixture of unease and worry in his eyes. “Indeed, My Lady. First time I am on something purely technological which is flying in the airs.” He paused for a second before continuing. “Our technologists at Kshas-Athun are working on the things you call aircraft… They do fly, quite well… most of the time…”

Master Kiralth arched his eyebrow as he remembered some of the test flights he assisted. “We can truly thank Sathala that there have been no fatalities in such flights so far.” He smiled and sighed.

“I do not understand why the Shokath had us use a plane. We could have simply opened a portal and arrived to Erebus in no time. I am worried about the Dress… such a risk…” The man frowned, pausing again, his features tense. He gave a glance around, spotting some of the Black Guards, who had shut the windows in their part of the cabin and took off their helmets. Their faces were calm and relaxed, even if it had more to do with their training than with their experience of flying. The Black Guards were actually sharing a word with the Tartarian security personnel, most surely about how many bad boys they decorated with bullets (for the Tartarians) and how many evil doers they chopped up with blades and barbecued with fireballs (for the Shakhtal).

“But then again, I am sure you did not really appreciate the Shakhtal means of travel the first time you experienced them, My Lady,” the craftsman said with a smile, referring to Shakhtal warping around. “So I trust everything will be fine.”

The Overseer and the Master chattered for some time to come, not noticing as the plane approached the capital of the Empire and landed at the Erebus International Airport. Which was good for the craftsman, since he did not have the time to stress a lot during flight and when the plane touched down, he smiled proudly, having weathered quite a frightening experience (or at least he thought it was frightening).

The Black Guards put back their helmets, switching their day-vision goggles back on. After all, it was quite sunny outside and none wanted his eyes burnt out by the rays of light. To an unaware observer, they now resembled some sort of camouflaged and well equipped special operatives. Master Kiralth did the same, even if he did not really like his camouflage combat suit and the helmet. He was a fit Shakhtal, his appearance equalling that for a surface man in his forties, but he was not a soldier, never was and felt quite uncomfortable in his temporary garments. But after all, he could not really put on a combat helmet while wearing a civilian suit, since the contrast would be quite weird indeed.

The group then proceeded to walk out of the plane. First, obviously, were the Tartarian security personnel, followed by the four Shakhtal soldiers. Then came two soldiers who were carrying the chest. They climbed the steps down carefully, followed the Overseer, Master Kiralth and Cassandra’s “guides”.

All this happy family was met by the Imperial welcoming committee and shown to the convoy of cars waiting to drive them to the palace.

As they stepped into the cars, Cassandra thought a little about the conversation on the plane. It was true, when she first experienced the Shakhtal way of doing things, she was a little shaken. She would not admit it, but still all the magic use and their travel still left her feeling a little uneasy. The most she had know about magic before she had moved to the underground cities was the kind of slight of hand and illusions performed by magicians.

The cavalcade made its way out of the airport, winding its way along the roads that would eventually bring them to the Palace. The darkened windows were serving a second purpose on the journey, not only keeping the onlookers from seeing inside but also keeping the bright sunlight out. Specially preparations had been made to ensure that the windows were darker than normal, making it almost as difficult for the people inside to see out, but there was enough visibility for the Shakhtal to look out upon the city of Erebus if they so desired.

From the outside, and despite the importance of the visitors inside, the convoy of vehicles appeared very low key. The Empress knew that the Shakhtal were not interested in drawing attention to their location, wanting to remain hidden from a lot of the outside world.

The party finally drew up the drive of the Palace an hour later. The front steps of the Palace were covered with an awning that followed the path of a deep blue carpet that lead from the final stopping place of the car up to the main doors.

As the car stopped, the door was pulled open by one of the footmen, who stepped back out of the way, allowing the Shakhtal to make the single stride in the sunlight before they were safely covered by the awning. At the top of the steps, a single solitary figure stood, her dark blonde hair blowing in the slight breeze. She smiled, and began to walk down the steps as the occupants of the car climbed out.

“Madam Sarie,” Cassandra greeted with a smile, as she guided Kiralth up the steps. “I would like to introduce Master Kiralth. Master Kiralth, Madam Sarie, the Tartarian Minister for Foreign Affairs.”

Emma presented her hand as she was introduced, welcoming the Shakhtal. Her eyes finding the others in the party, before she once more focused on their main guest. “Master Kiralth, it is a pleasure to welcome you to The Empire of Tartarus. Her Imperial Majesty, Empress Gehenna is waiting to greet you inside. If you will follow me.”

Turning, Emma guided the party inside, catching a glimpse of the others, as they frantically began to unload the following cars that would be carrying Cassandra’s cases and anything that the Shakhtal had brought with them.

“I trust that you had a pleasant journey, Master Kiralth. I believe today was a very good day to fly, with little turbulence.” Emma spoke, filling up the time between entering the palace. She moved slowly through their surroundings, giving the Shakthal a chance to look around.

Kiralth got out of the car and stepped into the light, quickly cursing himself for omitting to put on the goggles as he stepped into the shadows of the awning, trying to blink the huge purple spots out of his sight. The black guards who followed him out had no such problems since, unlike the craftsman who was always stuck in his atelier, they had to actually carry missions in the Above and, as such, were trained to sustain daylight for periods of time.

As the craftsman approached Emma Sarie, his eyes could already see quite well, even if some rebellious spots, which by now had turned dark blue, persisted in flying about in front of his gaze.

“An honour to meet Your Excellency,” he said in perfect Tartarian (Sathala be praised for the spell which allowed him to talk and understand High Gibberish). He took his helmet off and bowed to kiss the Minister’s hand. He read in some books that it was how the greetings were carried out in the Above, and so that was how he greeted a woman of the Above. “And a pleasure to be in your fine Citadel.”

With that, he gave a look behind, where the Shakhtal soldiers had already unloaded everything they took along. Two of them took hold of the Chest and were now tailing Kiralth and Emma.

“And... aaah... turbue lenses? What are these?” The Master arched a brow at the Minister as all of a sudden, deep within him a worry woke up. Was it possible something could have happened to their flight? Did the dress run an unforgivable risk? Was he going to give Lord Da’teril a lecture on security?

But his face reflected none of his feelings as he remained calm and composed. Calm and composed, yes, but Lord Da'teril was sure going to hear from him upon his return. A lecture on turbue lenses, whatever they were, but they surely were nothing good.

Emma smiled appreciatively as Kiralth spoke to her in Tartarian. She had been informed about their use of magic and kept in mind that the man might have been ‘cheating’ slightly, but the thought was there, which showed a mark of respect for the Empire. She walked up to the double doors of the Palace, finding them already pulled open by two uniformed footmen.

Hearing the alarm in the man’s voice, Emma turned towards him and smiled encouragingly. “They are merely strong winds that can cause the plane to rock in flight,” she explained, as simply as she could, really not wanting to bore the man with science. “I was informed that the sky was going to remain calm for your flight, which makes the journey far more enjoyable.” She watched Kiralth’s face, hoping that she had eased some of his concern.

She led the party through the grand entrance hall, the sweeping staircase dominating the room, with the portrait of the Empress gazing down upon them from the first landing. As they moved through the building, Emma explained a little of the history, pointing out some interesting paintings and artefacts. Cassandra remained quiet, leaving her superior to deal with the tour.

They moved at a steady pace through the building, until finally they arrived at a large carved wooden door. Each one of the doors had a clue to the room hidden behind in a little carved image that made up some of the detail. This had been added for one of the Emperor’s early in the Palace’s history, who had no sense of direction and would often turn up at the wrong room for official functions. Hiding clues in the doors seemed to be an easy solution.

Waiting for the party stood another uniformed footman. As they approached, he knocked on the door and stepped inside briefly, before emerging as Emma, Cassandra and Kiralth reached the threshold of the room. Without a word, he pulled open the door, revealing a scene of opulence and splendour.

As the Foreign Secretary, the Ambassador and their guest stepped into the room, Emma addressed the Empress. “Your Imperial Majesty, may I present Master Kiralth of the Shakhtal.” Once the party was through the door, it was closed behind them.

Empress Gehenna was already standing as they arrived, her eyes fixed on her guests as they walked through the door. Standing off to one side behind her was a man, whose obvious role was to ensure the safety of the woman in his charge. Despite his obvious presence, he was not intrusive to the proceedings.

“Master Kiralth,” Gehenna greeted as she took a step forward, a smile one her lips. “It is a pleasure to welcome a member of the Shakhtal to my Empire and my home.” She indicated a chair a little distance from where the master clothes maker was standing. “Please be seated.”

She gave a brief smile to Emma and Cassandra before indicating for them to take a seat, leaving the two men with the chest to work out that a table had been situated near to Kiralth’s chair for them to place their burden.

“I understand,” Kiralth said pensively to the explanation on the turbulences, yet it did not make him less angry with Lord Da’teril anyway. Shakhtal ways of travel were much more secure, after all. But then again, they arrived safely to the domains of the Shokath-Kshas and so everything was for the best in the best of worlds.

The clothes maker’s attention was soon attracted by Emma’s exposé on the local history. The Master listened carefully to the Minister, clarifying certain things from time to time to get a better understanding of Tartarian history and culture.

He did not even notice as they reached their destination and they were let into the room where the Shokath-Kshas was waiting for them. Kiralth greeted Gehenna in Shakhtal fashion, by bringing the palm of his hand to his eyes, mouth, then pointing at the floor, then at the ceiling before briefly extending the hand towards the Empress.

“It is an honour and pleasure to meet you in person, Shokath-Kshas,” the craftsman said with a smile before he proceeded towards the chairs.

However, he did not took his seat immediately, but instead watched as the two black guards put the chest on the table dedicated to that purpose. And only once the chest was on the table and the two soldiers took a step back that Kiralth got seated himself.

Gehenna watched the proceedings from her seat, silently wondering what reasons Lord Dateril had for bringing the Shakhtal into public view. Not that the visit had been highlighted in any fashion, but there was always a risk when one of the mountain dwellers emerged into the outside world. Her face revealed nothing of her surprise or her thoughts, her expression merely showed her interest in what was happening in the room at that moment.

Once the party were settled, Gehenna kept her attention on the master craftsman. “It is not often that the Shakhtal make the journey into the Empire.” She knew that the reason for Kiralth’s arrival could not be for a bad situation, as the Empress was sure that someone of higher rank than a clothes maker would be sitting before her. “I hope that your stay will be long enough for you to experience some of our ways of life. The differences in both our nations are very striking.”

Cassandra, who had been living underground for many months, was grateful to be seated where a sliver of sunlight was gently touching her foot. Her eyes were momentarily focused on the window, as the meeting began. Beside her, Emma was listening to the Empress, her eyes flicking between Kiralth and Gehenna.

“Perhaps we can get straight to business, Master Kiralth,” Gehenna suggested, wanting her visitor to be comfortable, and it seemed that the man’s task was a heavy burden for him, especially as he seemed overly protective of the chest that was on the table beside him.

Master Kiralth nodded and stood up, walking slowly towards the exquisitely ornate and decorated chest. “Of course, Shokath-Kshas. I have come here on a matter of great importance, in order to honour an ancestral Taraskath tradition,” he said looking at the Empress. He then proceeded to open the locks on the chest, lifting the lid to reveal a cushion of silk. He removed the cushion and beneath it was something filled with rubies and diamonds.

He reached out carefully and pulled the item upwards, and as he pulled it the item became longer and longer until Master Kiralth finally extracted all of it and straightened it in his hands to reveal a dress of tremendous beauty. Over a layer of white silk were finely crafted silver decorations in motives that resembled everything and nothing at a time. At one point an observer could spark a nightingale flying off to the sky and the moment later the picture changed to a wolf surging upon its prey.

And all over the dress were decorations of rubies and diamonds. Gems of all imaginable sizes ran over the dress, themselves forming exquisite pictures. And even in the dim light, the robe glittered with beauty, spreading around it an aura of passion and might.

“This is the Ruby Dress, an ancient relic of my people. It is customary for a female Shokath-Kshas to own and use it and, as such, it is an honour for me to entrust it to you, Shokath-Kshas, for the duration of your rule. May it serve you well and may you watch over it at all times.”

Gehenna smiled as her eyes fell upon the gift, while at the same time, her mind was racing. “I am honoured to accept this gift while I am considered the Shokath-Kshas of the Shakhtal.” Her gaze once more met Master Kiralth’s. “It is an extraordinary piece of craftwork and a most unusual article of clothing. It is truly original.” And it was this particular thought that was causing her the most agitation.

Getting up from her seat, she covered the short distance to where Master Kiralth was standing. She reached out and took hold of the fabric, feeling it lightly with her fingers. “I will ensure its safe keeping, Master Kiralth, and I will send word to Lord Da’teril of my sentiments and pleasure.”

She briefly flicked her gaze to Emma and Cassandra, who were sitting nearby, both with a different expression on their faces. The younger woman, Cassandra, was looking at the garment with wide eyes. She had never seen anything so stunning. Her eyes were almost as large as some of the stones on the dress. Emma, on the other hand, had age and wisdom on her side, and she was not so impressed with the arrival of such a gift. Like her Empress, she felt that the dress could be much more trouble than they needed.

Catching the look in the Foreign Secretary’s eyes, Gehenna returned to her seat and indicated for Master Kiralth to carefully place the dress back in its chest and return to his seat.

“I will endeavour to find the opportune moment to display your gift,” she said, her eyes remaining on the Shakhtal, her smile once more back on her lips. Her eyes revealed no sign of her concern.