[Flashback] Among Royalty [Ifran]

[Akasha]

Timestamp: 40th of Fall 505AV
Location: North Wind Gardens

The sun was beating down on her coarse, dry plumage far more than she liked. There was no pleasant breeze that day, just hot winds that slammed into her face and irritated her sensitive eyes. But she was curious. Curious of the horizon ahead that revealed a city she had not seen before. Her Chaktawe clan had traversed the sandy landscape earlier that morning in an everlasting search for water, and being the mischievous child she was, she had decided to go on ahead and scout out what she could.

The wide shadow of the dire kelvic passed over the elaborate buildings that made up the core of Ahnatep. Part of the city was in ruins, but she paid no mind to them. She cared not if the denizens were startled at her sudden appearance, but she knew the sun would blind them in their attempt to discern her against the sky. There were palaces and structures alike that emanated a certain subtle glory and pride that most likely encased the whole of the city. She was amazed, it was nothing like she’d ever seen!

But amidst the golden hue of the buildings, a garden in particular caught her eye. She swooped down, folded her wings tightly and dived. It didn’t take long for her to reach the ground level, and at once she spread her wings wide to lighten her fall, and her landing ended with a slight thump that vibrated the ground beneath her. She didn’t stay long in her bestial form, however. Being as large as she was, it was difficult to not grow a sense of claustrophobia when surrounded by walls.

And indeed she was. A garden with high walls, very spacious yet no one seemed to be about at the moment. Just as well. Akasha was defenseless the way she was, particularly because she was lacking any type of clothes. Second nature, however. She felt just as much at ease in her own skin as she did in her feathery body, but the shade sent a chill up her spine. The kelvic shook her head and smirked to herself. A garden all to myself, how convenient! She smiled and skipped along, passing marble benches and certain objects she had no name for.

[Ifran]

There was no soundproof room in which to practice in the North Winds palace, but practice was what Ifran of that same house required. His mellow lyric tenor was not unsuited to his suite of rooms, but certain musical requirements of semhu required tones less pleasing to the untrained ear. And so he walked out onto a wide balcony looking out over the lush interior gardens before loosing his voice into its whistle register, tweeting a sort of articulate and artificial birdsong. When the first difficult passage went by without too great a hitch, he began to walk down the curved stairs to the garden floor, still singing up beyond his falsetto register. When his bare feet hit the floor of the garden, he fell silent for a moment, looking inward to assess the health of his voice. The male voice could seldom accommodate a whistle register, so he had to be careful not to wear it out with excessive use. "A garden all to myself," he said, once again within the comfortable realm of his modal register. He was, of course, unconscious of the fact that he was echoing the words of an intruder.

[Akasha]

The dangers of being in a foreign territory took precedents then. Keen hearing had picked up the footsteps of someone not far off, and Akasha had found herself focusing on the direction it had come from. She wasn’t afraid, stupid maybe, but not frightened. Her curiosity willed her forward, closer to the figure that spoke, mimicked what she said in her mind and wondering who it was that lived in this luxurious palace.

When he had come into view, she froze in place, then blinked, as if doing such would suddenly rid the stranger of the extra pairs of arms that sprouted from his sides. She raised a finger up in amazement, “A mutant!” She cried in Tawna, although she had no inkling the man might not be able to understand her. “How did you do that? The arms, are they real?”

Maybe it was simply because she was rendered shocked by his appearance alone that her words came out childish and utterly lacking in intelligence. But indeed she was a child in a woman’s body, although she kept her distance, she had approached him enough for her eyes to catch every detail on his person she could.

[Ifran]

At the sound of an unexpected voice, his own went quiet and his body tensed into a defensive posture. He hadn't a khopesh on his person at the moment; the palace was supposed to be guarded against intruders. His reaction might have been overblown; certainly there were countless (or he had never counted) slaves and servants and employees of the Noble House within its walls. When his eyes fell upon the naked girl, he was merely curious and a bit amused. "Do you speak a civilized tongue?" he asked in Arumenic. Then, just to be safe, he spoke again in Common: "Do you understand me?" She sounded like a Chaktawe though she didn't look like one to his discerning eye. Certainly she might have been adopted, of mixed blood, or some sort of morphing shaman. He relaxed as his eyes took in the details of her form. There was nothing lascivious in his gaze, though one might easily project such upon the tabula rasa he presented. Nothing lascivious, perhaps, but measuring to be sure.

[Akasha]

Her large, disconcerting eyes took him in just as he was her. To her, he was an exotic creature she just happened to come upon, as if she expected no one to be traversing a garden built specifically for the residence of the palace. Clearly, her common sense had yet to root itself in the recesses of her rather hallow head. But then he had responded to her! She blinked, confusion and surprise mingling into her expression. She couldn’t understand him, but at least after he had spoken in the strange tongue, he had said something else in a language she could understand, albeit at that time, it was harder to manage.

She racked her brain for the right words, translating from Tawna to Common should have been effortless, but for some reason, she was hindered. At least she managed to speak, “I do…” And then she did the dumbest thing, approaching the Eypharian as if he was harmless, merely a statue she could inspect and touch to her heart’s content. She got quite close to him, although he was much taller, she still invaded his personal privacy as if he didn’t hold some weapon on his person he could use to stab her with unexpectedly.

Whatever! She was enjoying herself. “So you don’t know Tawna? How strange, what were you speaking earlier? It sounded like rocks scraping together, really bad.” She grinned, teeth flashing white under the glint of the sun. She stretched a finger out, poking a lightly gilded arm as if testing to make sure it was real. “Why do you have six arms?” And then she thought back on the denizens she’d seen walking along the roads of Ahnatep. “Does everyone here have six arms? You look like a spider.” Rude remarks from a stupid child.

[Ifran]

"I have six arms," he said stiffly, for a man who spoke poetry for a living must respect his language, "because my ancestor is a river-god. Eypharians have six arms. Some have four, but I assume they are less pure of blood." He sighed. "I don't speak Tawna because I'm not Chaktawe. My turn: what are you doing in our gardens?" He was no longer alarmed, exactly, but he was still careful. If he raised too much ruckus, the guards might come and deal unmercifully with her. They needed to maintain a bloody reputation to keep thieves and assassins scared. Ifran wasn't needlessly cruel; he was merely expedient in the manner of most Eypharians. The ends justified the means.

[Akasha]

She didn’t seem to take much interest in his history or the fact there were variations in the arms his people held. Her eyes roamed as he spoke, taking in the architecture, the plants, and of coursing landing back on him once he‘d finished. She pouted.

“Oh, of course, at least that much is obvious.” She said matter-of-factly, waving her hand. Then at his question she paused, putting a finger to her chin as if deep in contemplation. Impossible.

“I flew in of course,” She said this as if it was amazing he didn’t know she could fly. As if everyone in the world could sprout wings and take off into the air. She grinned. “It’s really pretty here, at least. It caught my attention, is that a crime?”

Strange, she didn’t know the concept of a crime but yet she still spoke of it. Akasha tilted her head, watching him with another unnerving stare. “Are you the owner of this place, mister? It’s really big, you must have a lot of stuff in there…” Her eyes trailed toward the expansive doorways, itching to sprint through.

[Ifran]

"It belongs to my family, yes," he replied, eyes keen upon her. She was an interesting study, anyway, and he watched how she watched the world around her. Of course the North Winds palace and its gardens were beautiful. Pretty was too quaint a word for them, but he appreciated the sentiment with a sort of pride of ownership even if he wasn't the head of his Noble House. Yet. "You might want to be careful," he added. "Not everyone will take as kindly to someone flying into their garden. How would you feel if people just decided to land in your nest and root around without an invitation?"

[Akasha]

“Yes yes, your family, of course. But what’s inside?” She began to tug on his arm, pulling him towards the door, questioning. Curiosity lighting her features in almost every way possible. She was a child that wanted more, to see more, to touch more. And she would get it, no matter what at this stage.

The consequences seemed to fly over her head without a second thought. “Come on then! Show me! I wouldn’t mind people rummaging through my nest. I’d just kick them off and see them try to flap their arms like newborn fledglings.” She laughed at the morbid thought, but her arms tightened around Ifran’s own. Akasha would not let him go so easily.

“I want to see it all, don’t be rude.” As if she wasn’t being rude herself for forcing him to be hospitable and barging into his property.

[Ifran]

"Hm," was all he said, letting her pull him inside. No servant or guard would move to stop her with Ifran in tow, not unless he made some noise or motion indicating they should. The servants of the House of the North Winds were utterly well-behaved. The palace was well-appointed as befit one of the Noble Houses. Eggplant-colored Eypharian marble, precious woods, priceless furniture. Even the heat of the desert was mitigated here. Whereas Ahnatep might be overwhelming, their palace was an oasis of comfort and power. "What should you like to see?" he asked.