Chapter 24: Brewing War
Appearing in a large hall, Illyan quickly went down on one knee in deference to the man seated on the throne.
"It's been a while Zeuther…" The soft voice echoed lightly in the empty throne room, yet Illyan's head lowered further as the weight of the man's gaze pressed down on him.
"Forgive me Lord Sigtyr, I am late…" Illyan's shoulders trembled under the growing pressure. Just as he was on the verge of collapse, light-hearted laughter filled the room, blowing away the former tension.
"So serious Zeuther, I bid you to call me Odin…You still seem so distant after serving me for so long. Huu." The room instantly brightened prompting Illyan to lift his head, meeting the eyes of his lord.
The seemingly young man ran his fingers through his dark hair, his lithe body moved gracefully as he walked down the steps of his throne. His black robe trailed behind him forming and endless river of black and gold.
His grey eyes seemed to see through everything, filled with the wisdom of a millennia; those eyes were a source of fear to the few who had come across him.
"Hmm…Your abilities have improved; it seems you are up to the task." He mused as he gazed into Illyan's eyes leaning in closer as they flashed in a multi-coloured haze.
Blinking, Illyan turned his head away avoiding the closeness of their faces, "What task is it?"
Odin's smile widened momentarily before fading away as though it was never there. Straightening up, he lifted Illyan to his feet with a slight wave of his hand.
"War." Odin replied simply, suddenly reappearing on his throne.
The weight of the word slowly sank into Illyan's mind, 'War! The Chaos realm is already flooded with suffering as it is.' Worried, Illyan moved to reason with him, but was blocked by an invisible barrier.
Meeting the indifferent gaze of his Lord, Illyan knew it was a done deal. There was nothing left to do, after all, one could not question the gods and remain unscathed.
If war was what they wanted, they would get it in endless ways regardless of the cost.
Odin watched silently as Illyan stepped away from his barrier, determination burning in his eyes. Ignoring this, he tilted his head back letting his gaze fall on the dark ceiling, as he hid a wry smile.
"Lord Zeuther, right hand of the Northern empire is charged to fulfil his duty and lead the troops to war against the Greek!" His voice resounded throughout the kingdom, and the roars of excitement returned to the throne room, the Norse soldiers were ready for battle.
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The chatter of the crowd as they bargained in the unruly marketplace left Maaike astounded. Her head spun left and right as she watched the Minotaur compete in axe throwing.
At the top of an oddly shaped Victorian house, a faerie stood coldly gazing down at the dwarf who stood underneath her window rose in hand as he blushed subtly, declaring his love.
Disoriented at the sounds and mix of aromas, the smell freshly baked cookies, strong spices, the aroma of seafood and sweets. The music was heady and playful, the colours of different clothing styles from different centuries and cultures.
Not sure how to feel, Maaike staggered after Lothar, she had never been in a place like this, it was so chaotic yet so beautiful. Amused, Lothar glanced back at her for time to time, trying to make sure he didn't lose her.
As he approached a small tavern, a man standing by the entrance nodded his head in acknowledgement. Lothar reached back and let his hand fall on Mya's head, turning it back forward before continuing into the building.
Taken aback at her overexcitement, she shamefully remembered that she was supposed to be protecting Lothar and tried to readjust her mentality. "It's not like I haven't seen anything amazing at Illyan's before', taking a deep breath, she pushed the beads that strung down as a curtain across the door entrance.
As the colourful beads fell out her view, she found herself once more astounded at the difference in size between the outside and the inside. It was arranged like an old middle eastern room, with mats and couches of different red shades strung across the floor.
The people there were all passed out on the floor or still drinking. Alcohol was infused into the very walls of the room, in an intoxicating mix with the lit incense in the building. For a moment Maaike felt tipsy, struggling to adjust to the intensity of the fumes inside.
The young attendant waited patiently for her to adjust before guiding her up the stairs after Lothar. Stopping in front of an archway, he bowed deeply before excusing himself quietly.
'Amazing!' she inwardly gasped at his fluid and smooth movements as he vanished from their sight as though with magic.
Looking at the archway, a wry smile made its way onto her face as she noticed the depictions of erotic poses and bestiality. Through the archway, a man languidly sprawled on a large cushion.
His gaze sharp and dangerous, contrasting his sharp angelic features, his tanned skin, bright blue eyes, and golden sun-kissed hair held down by a chain crown.
His fingers completely covered in rings of gold and gemstones were tapping rhythmically on the wineglass he held in his left hand, while his right hand gripped a hookah pipe.
Surrounding him were numerous bodies, male and female, sparsely dressed and passed out in a pile atop one another. Letting her gaze drift back to the seemingly inebriated man, she took notice of his silk clothing. A swath of dark purple and gold wrapped loosely on his body in an alluring yet regal manner.
He looked up as soon as Lothar tapped lightly on the edge of the archway. A lazy smile slowly made its way onto his face, and he relaxed further into his cushion. Beckoning at Lothar with his bejewelled finger, his eyes moved over his body taking in every detail.
Frowning, Maaike moved in quickly, angling her body slightly to cover Lothar. She wasn't sure who this man was, but the danger he emanated suggested that he could probably notice any slight sign of weakness on Lothar.
His smile fell slightly, and he levelled a barely noticeable glare at Mya. Refusing to back down from his oppressive gaze, she ran her powers beneath her skin, prepared for anything.
The air began to thicken around her, as though she was wrapped by a thick fog. Noticing that her breathing was getting heavier, Lothar placed his hand on her shoulder pulling her behind him.
"Enough Kesi…" his voice was indulgent like he was reprimanding his little brother, whilst Kesi's eyes flashed with annoyance. Now free of the oppression, Maaike's eyes moved between the two of them. There was no sign of hostility between them, just quiet acquiescence.
"Am I even needed here?" she muttered realizing that there was probably more to their relationship. Hearing her words, Kesi preened visibly proud of the fact.
Tilting his head, he mockingly pouted at Lothar, "Why would you give me such a horrid nickname?"
Ignoring him, Lothar gestured at the male attendant who had returned from nowhere with a basin of water and a small towel.
"Take Maaike on a tour of the city." He stated and nodded at Maaike subtly asking for privacy.
Forcing down her annoyance at the sudden turn of events, she followed behind the stone-faced attendant, rolling her tongue on the inside of her cheek.
'Why ask for my protection if you're going to just kick me out.' Sighing she decided to focus on sightseeing while she still could, maybe she would find the Star of Arcanis during her tour.