46th of Ash, 120th Year of the Age of Steel
Talon finished tugging on his boot. He rolled his ankle experimentally, testing to see how supple and comfortable the leather was. He would undoubtedly be doing much dancing and standing on ceremony that night. He wanted to make sure that he was not going to end up with blisters because of the event. When he was satisfied he rose to his feet and finished fussing with the cuffs of his coat. He tucked his wings in close so that the servant helping him dress could fasten the cloak appropriately around his shoulders. He tugged at the high neck collar for a moment.
“Something troubles you, my Shinsei.” Talon looked up as a woman entered the room. She wore the ceremonial armor of one of the Silver Hand, the personal guard of House Novalys. He recognized his mother’s seal at the clasp of her cloak. The woman was a Siltori elf, as were many of his mother’s attendants. She had long dark black hair and a smoky ash color to her skin that complimented the luminescent quality of her violet eyes. Talon gave the woman a smile.
“Is it that obvious, Tarshenna?” He had known Tarshenna since the time he was a boy. In those years she had never grown any older to his eyes but such was the nature of the long-lived Siltori elves. This was his mother’s most trusted handmaiden and someone who often stood in as a motherly figure for him when his own parents were preoccupied with matters of state. Tarshenna stepped forward. She cupped his face and Talon looked into her eyes even as she stared into his.
“Only to those who know you, my prince.” There was a beat of silence as she seemed to search for something in Talon’s features. “Sometimes I still see that bright eyed boy running in the gardens chasing after the minova bats. You have become a fine man, Talon. Trust in that.”
She released Talon’s face and gestured to the servants. Talon knelt and spread his wings so that the decorative pad could be added to the arms of his wings. When they were finished, he stretched and folded them experimentally to make sure nothing pinched. Gently, they began running their fingers through the feathers of his wings, making sure that they were adequately groomed. It was as he was rising back to his feet that the doors to his dressing room opened once more and in walked his companion and bodyguard. The raven-winged Avialae was dressed impeccably in a dark black coat accented with blue trim that was more reminiscent of the styles of his homeland of Gelerand than of Kalzasi. As he entered, he bowed low. He gave Tarshenna a crisp nod of his head which she returned slightly. Talon could feel from Aoren that the man was still on edge. He was spending practically every waking moment striving to make up for the incident earlier that season.
“The guests are arriving, my Shinsei. Your mother is requesting your presence in the grand hall.” Aoren ran a hand through his hair. He repeated the gesture, apparently trying to get his hair to cooperate with whatever it was he thought it should look like. Talon wordlessly stepped forward, gently knocked aside Aoren’s hands and moved to straighten his hair himself. His friend’s hazel eyes looked at him with gratitude. Talon sent a silent thread of reassurance and comfort across their bond before squeezing his shoulders in a show of support.
Talon adjusted the cloak over his shoulder before taking a deep breath. He took one last look at himself then made his way out of his suite of rooms. At his side were his personal entourage along with Tarshenna. The walk from his rooms to the grand hall was mostly quiet for him. The palace was abuzz with activity as servants and staff moved with purpose to tend to the needs of guests and residents of the estate. It was not long before Talon approached the doors reserved for use by his family. Gathered there were all the core members of House Novalys, which was largely all that was left following the decimation of the family at the hands of Jacien Novalys. Seeing his family gathered there, it was a painful reminder of that dark period in their long history. He pulled brothers and sisters into his arms, fussed with their clothing a bit, bowed to his step-mothers until finally he stood in front of his mother.
The Iron Queen of Kalzasi wore her customary black with silver accents. Ever the proud sorceress, the jewelry upon her person exuded arcane power and an austere form of opulence. As he approached her, she reached for him. Talon went to her, bending at the waist so that she could cup his face gently and place a tender kiss upon his brow. His mother smoothed her hands over his shoulders as the rest of his family lined up behind him. The procession would be a formal one, with Talon at its head, proclaiming to the audience that he was the host of this evening’s festivities in place of his father who was still travelling abroad.
“You look just like your father.” Talon smiled and bowed his head to his mother.
“Does that include his preference for wearing chainmail instead of formal attire?” Sahfri laughed softly, which was joined by his step-mothers and the rest of his siblings.
“Come. We are fashionably late, as is to be expected.” Sahfri stepped aside, going to stand directly behind him. On her right and left were her fellows, the Second and Third Wife of House Novalys respectively. Behind them was the procession of children beginning with his brother Rien as the Secondborn Son. Talon was not the eldest but as the Firstborn Son of House Novalys, he was his father’s direct heir and would be the inheritor of House Novalys and all that was at its command when the time came. At the doors were Aoren, Tarshenna and his step-mothers head guards respectively. He nodded to them and with that signal, they opened the doors to the grand hall. There came the ring of a gong, announcing the arrival of the royal family.
Talon strode forward with the practiced grace born from his life as a warrior and his grooming as a noble of Kalzasi’s premiere House. He wore a pristine white coat with a high collar. The cloak over his shoulder brushed lightly across the floor. Gold accents and tassels hung from his shoulder along with a mix of silver and gold embroidery. The sash around his waist was silver just as the shirt he wore beneath his coat was a bright white to match the coat itself. This attire coupled with the silvery cast to his wings in the light of the enchanted globes and chandelier’s that illuminated the hall made Talon almost shine.
“His Royal Highness, Talon Alexios Novalys, First Son of House Novalys. Lord of the Palace of the First Wind. Shinsei to Savien Praetus Novalys, Thirteenth Shokaze of Kalzasi and all its realms.” As the crier announced him, Talon stepped forward so that he was in full view of the attendees of the ball. The grand hall was packed with people, the vast majority of whom were from the upper echelon’s of Kalzasi’s society. The Great Houses were all represented there, in their traditional House colors. Members of the nobility just below them and plenty of prominent members of their society. Talon steeled his nerves, he felt a swell of support from his companion across their bond.
“Welcome, guests! Welcome to the Harvest Ash Festival Ball. On behalf of my Father, our Shokaze and Sovereign, may this night reflect the prosperity of our nation and the strength of our family. Come, let the festivities commence!” Talon raised his hands. He drew upon his kinetics and brought the aether flux into view. With a flick of his thoughts he tugged on the strings of several paper decorations hanging on the ceiling of the grand hall. The decorations unfurled, designed to open up into the shape of the silver star, the symbol of House Novalys. From within them dropped a harmless bit of dust touched with the illusory magic of Masquerade. The effect saw a veritable shower of falling stars upon all those gathered only to dissipate harmlessly above their heads. There was applause and then...then the music began and Talon began to make his way to the floor.