Hanging from the towering walls on the lower portions of the hall were rich tapestries depicting creatures with hollow sockets and vicious claws. They showcased fierce battles or embattled mages wielding long wooden staves. The scenes varied but most were set amidst dark forests and flames.
I could smell the smoke before my gaze snapped to Blake’s as he touched my waist.
“Battles from long ago,” he said. “Do not look for too long. They are enchanted.”
Fascination tinged with fear crept over me as I glanced at the other paintings.
“Enchanted how?” I asked.
Blake led me away, his hand firmly at the small of my back.
“Mages have been known to become lost in them, their minds never the same,” he said. “It is rare, but some mages can embed their everi into inanimate objects—such as paint. If it is powerful enough, the painting itself can display like a memory for some. The more susceptible the viewer is to what is depicted, the more likely they are to experience it. Best not to observe for too long.”
I tensed and looked forward.
Everi embedded paint?
What else could be laden with everi that I wasn’t expecting?
Now that I was on guard, I felt the myriad of energies in the air.
Everi was all intertwined in such a way that I couldn’t separate one mage from another’s.
“Are you okay?” Blake asked.
“Yeah,” I whispered. “I guess I’m realizing how much I have to learn.”
Blake smiled gently. “Do not worry too much. It will come to you to sense these things on your own, eventually.”
As long as I live that long.
We moved further into the hall when a wondrous scent flooded me with delight. It was somewhere between cinnamon and roses.
“What’s that smell?” I asked, entranced by it.
“It is the timber used for the fire—it is called ‘Haneitari Eru’—it means sweet flowering tree,” he said. “It is a tough species to cultivate but the scent has kept it popular. They usually only grow now when maintained in an arboretum which makes their timber valuable.”
I took a deep breath of the sweet smell. I could understand why. I’d never smelled something so wonderful in my life.
It was disarming.
An odd sensation of worry struck.
“Is Sadrina alright?” I asked, glancing around for a nonexistent window.
“She knows her way to the stables,” Blake said.
The interior was reminiscent of Nightfall. Rich and stately elegance filled the hall with dark woods and chiseled stone walls. It was remarkable how there was no sign of decay, no dust—nothing.
“Ah, Prince Rykiren. We weren’t expecting you.”
I looked behind us and found a small, older man in a pristine and formal uniform. The symbol of the alliance was on his coats breast pocket. He wore a pair of circular spectacles that sat low on his nose and his gray hair was so thin on the top of his head, the glow made it shine.
“Sir Ganforth,” Blake said, lowering his head respectfully.
“Should I ready a room for you and uh…”
“This is Anna,” Blake said. “She is a guest of the alliance. And yes, please. Ready two rooms for the night. We will be leaving at first light.”
