Legend of Ransera

“This is a terrible idea,” Valron said for the fifth time as he watched her fixing a silver hairpin to her dark hair – an intricate little thing, shaped to resemble a slender branch decorated with metal flowers. The man stood with his arms crossed, already clad in his dark armor, bow and arrows strapped to his back. He had been rather busy lately, chasing bounties nearly every night.

Their eyes met through the mirror and Iselya smiled innocently. “And as I have mentioned before, it’s just a festival. We’ve gone into festivals before.”

“Usually, festivals aren’t located in mountain fortresses,” he pointed out. Admittedly, the Palace of the First Wind would not be the easiest place to escape from should any problems arise. But then again, she wasn’t expecting trouble. Their life had been relatively peaceful for a few years and the Imperium had no business attending a harvest festival. “You should wait for me, so we can go together.”

Satisfied that the jewelry was secured on her head, the Siltori stood up and inspected her dress. It had caught her a year ago in a random boutique. While she had no need for fancy dresses, the deep blue fabric decorated with golden stars reminded her of a garment her father bought a century ago. She used to keep it in a trunk in her suite back at Ailos – but of course, it was gone now. This night was the first chance for her to dress up and Iselya intended to use it. The long sleeves were slightly see-through, but it wasn’t enough to make the markings on her arms noticeable – unless they started to glow.

“Wait until you finish staking out drug smugglers? That will take forever.” As much as it was endearing, sometimes her companion’s protectiveness can get to her nerves. “Nothing will happen and if something did, I’m not helpless.” To prove her point, the woman lifted her skirt to show him the dagger strapped to her right leg. Small blades weren’t her favorite, but they were certainly the easiest to hide. “And don’t forget, I still outrank you.”

He rolled his golden eyes. “You’re out of practice. When was the last time you actually fight?” The answer was a long while, but she still trained while she could – not that it could substitute an actual battle it was better than nothing. But she simply answered him with a shrug and Valron looked ready to argue again before finally sighing. “Fine. I’ll come find you as soon as I’m done.”

The Siltori grinned and waved away his concern. “I promise I’ll try not to get myself killed at a festival.”

---

The hike to the Palace of the First Wind was longer than she had expected. Iselya had seen its grandeur from afar countless times, but this was the first time that she made the climb. Around her were the people of Kalzasi, the spirits high even though the trek wasn’t exactly easy. A small group of friends arguing over what they would do first. A pair of young lovers excited for their first date. A small family with two children shrieking and giggling as they ran ahead of their parents.

A pang of loneliness hit her for the briefest of seconds.

Iselya wondered what her own family was doing tonight. Countless times she had thought of contacting her family. They must have believed she was dead once the news of Ailos spread across the world. Her last letter to her mother was mundane, telling her that her work as a mentor was somewhat tedious and that she would travel back home next season. Now, she wondered if she will ever get the chance to. But Iselya could not risk it. The last thing she wanted was to put a target on her family. Maybe... Maybe next year. Perhaps if she was lucky, the Gelerian Imperium would have forgotten about her existence by now.

By the time she reached the palace grounds, the Siltori had shaken away most of the unpleasant thoughts. She did not come here to feel sorry for yourself. She wanted to enjoy the night and stop worrying. Attendants guided her to festival and almost immediately her senses were swept over by the everything. Lights that rivaled the glittering skies above her head, music so loud that she could barely hear herself thinking. There were performers weaving fire and water as they danced, a crowd of people cheering as they watched. The festivities must have started quite some time ago.

As her luminescent eyes scanned her surroundings, Iselya decided she would go to whatever caught her eye first.

A crowd had gathered around a stage. Upon it there were several performers all of whom appeared to be human. One stood in the center and was juggling torches that were alight with fire. The second and third performers were just slightly behind the center. They too were juggling burning torches that were being tossed between them. The performers seemed to be timing their movements so that each torch just barely grazed past the others in a feat of dexterity. The display elicited excited gasps and applause before each perform caught their torches and moved into the next routine.

“Remarkable...” He stood with his hands in the pockets of a long coat that was a soft brown in color. A pair of well tailored black pants tucked into calf high boots adorned his lower half while a humble but well made golden-brown vest with white shirt covered his torso. A human man slightly taller than average height turned his head to regard Iselya. He smiled at her.

“The festival, I mean. So many people gathered together, able to enjoy a moment of joy. A much needed break in seasons of late.” The man brought his hands up to applaud as another demonstration of the fire jugglers wowed the crowd into a bout of glee. All around them the palace compound seemed to be becoming more lively. Families were going up to stalls, being handed out food, beverages, and even sweets for children. Caramel apples and freshly baked pies filled the air with the scent of fruits and meats all mingling together. Cider flowed freely and entertainment was there to be found in as many forms as one could have wanted. The Palace of the First Wind was filled with revelers both wholesome and rowdy. Threaded throughout, however, were the silver armored knights that guarded over the palace grounds.



“Leave it to House Novalys to spare no expense for a chance to prove how much they love the people.” The man shook his head with an indulgent smile. He turned intelligent dark green eyes to regard the Siltori woman. Extending a hand, the man offered her a slight bow, lowering his eyes to the ground before meeting her gaze once more.

“Kilian Char.” His voice held a touch of the accents notable to the more eastern Free Cities, further even than Kalzasi. “To whom do I owe the pleasure of meeting, on this bountiful night?”

There was a friendly smile upon his lips, though it appeared as though he were always on the edge of bearing an indulgent smirk.

Iselya found herself wandering to the stage, where men and women played with fire as the crowd cheered. An impressive performance, it was no surprise that it attracted most of people’s attention for now. Out of habit, the former warrior found herself scanning closer for her surroundings as she approached the mass. But of course, there was no obvious threat lingering in a festival. Especially considering the knights keeping a close an eye on everything. House Novalys wouldn’t want any trouble to start on their grounds. Satisfied for now, Iselya let her attention be absorbed by the bright flames flying across the stage.

At least until a deep voice rumbled beside her. “Remarkable...”

The Siltori looked up, realizing that a man was talking to her. Even through a brief glance, it was enough to tell that he was no ordinary commoner. His garment was finer than most that came here, but it was the glint in his green eyes that gave it away. She wondered what about her had caught his attention. Although admittedly, Iselya would never quite blend in a city mostly populated with humans and Avialae.

“Enjoying festivities once in a while can do wonders on one’s morale,” she replied, mindless running her fingers across her deep blue skirt. It did for her at least. She always attended whatever celebration the city would throw. Whether it was because the world during her childhood rarely allowed for festivities or the fact that she liked the bright lights and the crowd, she couldn’t say why she liked fairs so much. “Even the powerful nobility realizes that they need their people’s love. What better way to gain that than throwing one great party?”

She expected him to return his attention back to the spectacle, having already made his comment. That was what she was about to do. But much to her surprise, the human male bowed and introduced himself. Kilian Char, he said.

Iselya gave him a dimpled smile as she racked her brain trying to place where his subtle accent belonged – Valron would have immediately figure it out. It was definitely familiar. Having moved across the land countless times, the places had blurred into one. “Iselya d’Svaris. Pleasure to meet you too.” After three years, the introduction flowed naturally across her tongue. Sometimes, she could even convince herself that it was her real name.

“What brings you to the festival, Sir Kilian?” the woman asked innocently. It did not seem like he was accompanied by anyone. A whiff of sweetness tore her gaze away from the tall man for a brief moment, eagerly looking for its source. Sure enough, a child ran pass them with what seemed like a bag of cookies. “I, for one, come for the food.”

“Aye, that it can. Being able to lose yourself in the simple bliss of a joyous moment...that is a treasure.” Kilian’s eyes grew distant for a moment as he took in the sights of the event around them. At her comment regarding the nobility he chuckled. Crossing his wrists behind his back he nodded.

“A people’s love can be a powerful thing. It can move mountains or it can tear them asunder. I would have to agree with you, there is wisdom in this.” He gave her a sardonic smile as he watched a group of partygoers hobble forward. Two men and two women, the men were drinking heartily from tankards of what could only be assumed was alcohol. The women were laughing in obvious delight of some joke that must have been shared between the four of them. The air was filled with merriment that was only accentuated by the performances happening on the stage and at various corners of the festival grounds.

“The pleasure is mine, Iselya.” He touched the tips of his fingers to his forehead and gave her a sweep of his hand with a tip of the head. A traditional greeting common to the further eastern cities of the northern region of Karnor where they were located. At her question, he shrugged his shoulders with a smirk. There was a glint in his clever green eyes as he looked around him but for all appearances he bore no ill intent given his casual stance.

“I am here to enjoy the celebration. I suppose later, I will visit my brother. It has been some time since the two of us have seen one another. But, that can wait.” He offered Iselya his hand just as the Siltori turned her head in the direction of the sweet smell of cookies.

“If it’s food you wish, your wish is my command!” He wiggled his fingers as invitation to take his hand. “If you want to, that is. I do think that these types of celebrations are best enjoyed in good company. Would you agree?”

Iselya glanced at his hand and pursed her lips playfully, feigning deep thought – perhaps not entirely feigning it. She certainly wouldn’t mind the company, but a stranger was probably not the best of options – not that another option had presented itself. So far, it didn’t seem like Kilian had any hidden motivations. They were also surrounded by hundreds of people in open grounds. Should any trouble arise, she would most likely be able to slip away. She was thinking way too hard on this. It’s sad how much she needed to consider for a little bit of fun.

“Very well, Kilian. I’ll give you the honor of accompanying me for now,” she said with a wink. The Siltori took his hand and tugged him towards the food stalls. “We’ll start with something savory.” Fortunately, it wasn’t too crowded with most of the crowd drawn to performances for now. Mouth-watering foods were displayed all over the stalls, vendors calling out vying for attention. She scanned through them until she found what she wanted. Meat dumplings.

An older human woman manned the stall, with graying hair and eyes that wrinkled as she greeted them with a smile. “Anything I can get for you, dear?”

Bamboo steamers were stacked on each other, hissing with steam as the old woman opened it to giver a few. Hot air and the pleasant scent of meat blew into her face, making her let out a short laugh and stumbled back a bit. “Do you want any, Kilian?” Iselya didn’t want to order too much since she planned on sampling as many food as she could. After giving their order, the Siltori pulled her companion to the side as they waited while the old woman prepared their food.

“You’re not from around here, aren’t you?” the woman pointed out, turning her silvery-gray eyes towards the man. Iselya didn’t meet a lot of people who weren’t native to Kalzasi – partially because she mostly tried to avoid them. It was usually the outsiders who turned to be Imperium hunters. Although according to Valron, Iselya had let too much of her guard down in the recent months. Like letting a stranger tag along in a festival. Her companion would highly disapprove. “So, your brother lives down in the city? Is that why you’re visiting the great Kalzasi?”

Kilian laughed softly as Iselya teased him. He accepted her hand gently, keeping his grip loose offering her every opportunity to slip away if she so desired. He lightly guided her hand to his arm where he let it rest. He walked with her at an even pace, letting the Siltori elf guide the way to whatever it was that caught her attention. Seeing the meat dumplings and smelling their scent wafting up into the air had Kilian taking in a deep breath.

“I do not know about her, but I would very much like at least two dumplings, ma’am.” Kilian gestured to the stall. “Order whatever you like. I did say that your wish, is my command.”

The human gave Iselya a wink. It did not take long for the woman to prepare their order and he barely had time to grab it from the vendor and hand her a few coins as payment before Iselya pulled him away. The man laughed and stumbled a bit as he was tugged along in the direction the elf was pulling him.

“You are stronger than you look, my lady.” Kilian righted himself, making sure that their dumplings were not dropped to the ground before he extended Iselya’s to her. With that done, Kilian took a bite of his first dumpling and let out a low, appreciative moan as he savored the flavor. He quickly gobbled down the rest of that dumpling, seeming lost in the taste until Iselya’s question pulled him out of his musings. He chewed a bit more and then swallowed.

“No, I am not.” He shook his head. “I came from the Republic of Cathena, not far from the city of Savrun.”

He held up his hand then looked around for a moment before spotting what it was he was looking for. Jogging over to another stall he spoke with the merchant there for a moment before grabbing two tin cups of spiced cider. He paid the man then returned to Iselya extending one of the cups to her. He took a sip of his own and hummed in appreciation.

“You are going to ask why my brother is here in Kalzasi if I came from a place as far as the Republic.” Kilian looked out over the crowd and then toward the city below. “My brother and I have not always gotten along. We have fought many times. Our last fight was…”

The human’s gaze grew distant and somewhat sad. “It was not pleasant. He left after it. Traveling first west and then north. It has taken me several years to find him. I came to...to see him. To see what has become of him.”

Kilian took a bite of his second dumpling, then another until he finished it in quick succession. He sipped his cider then gave Iselya a big smile as he shook off the more serious mood.

“But, that will come! For now, the whole night is ahead of us!”