TIR NA LIA - The Royal Palace
The grand hall of the Aen Elle palace was a masterpiece of ethereal beauty, its ceiling soaring high above them, supported by pillars of crystal that pulsed with a soft, inner light. The walls were adorned with tapestries depicting scenes of elven history. Chandeliers of woven moonlight hung from the ceiling, casting a gentle, silver glow across the assembled guests.
Elves of every station filled the hall, they moved with grace, their voices low and melodic. It was a gathering of the most prominent figures in all of Tir Na Lia, nobles, scholars, warriors, artists all united in celebration of their king's pleasure.
Ciri walked beside Avallac'h, her appearance altered by his magic to that of a young elven woman. Her hair, usually ashen and unruly, was now a flowing cascade of silver, and her ears were delicately pointed. The illusion was flawless, but she felt like a fraud, a human pretending to be something she was not, and she did not like it one bit.
"You know," Avallac'h said, glancing sidelong at her with the faint, amusement, "originally, you'd have only needed the ears. You already carry Aen Elle blood in you, after all."
"Something I wish I didn't," Ciri said flatly.
Something flickered behind Avallac'h's pale eyes, a flinch quickly stilled, pride catching the blow before it could show fully on his face but he said nothing, only turned his gaze forward again.
She glanced around the hall, her eyes sweeping over the gathered elves. "What is the occasion for this, again?" She asked in curiosity.
Avallac'h's voice was calm. "The king feasts as he pleases. We are not like you humans, you need a cause for everything. A reason for joy, for celebration, for gathering. For us, the act of celebration is its own purpose."
"You're all plain weird," Ciri said, unimpressed, "and this looks like the dullest feast I've ever seen."
"Maybe to you. But to us, this is a gathering of equals. There is no need for noise and chaos to prove that joy exists." Something almost like a smile touched Avallac'h's mouth.
Before she could reply, a voice called out from the crowd, warm and familiar in tone if not in face. "Old master of mine. Welcome. I confess I did not think I would see you here tonight."
Ciri turned to find an elf approaching with a loose, easy stride, sharp-featured, a faint smile on his face. Beside him walked another, older, tall and dignified, his robes of deep blue embroidered with silver threads.
"Welcome, Avallac'h," Ge'els said, spreading his hands in a gesture of genuine, courtly warmth. "Your presence brings joy to this place. His Majesty has been eager to see you again."
Avallac'h inclined his head. "Caranthir. Ge'els. The honor is mine." He paused, his eyes sweeping the hall. "I was not expecting to see you here tonight. I thought you were attending to other matters."
Caranthir's gaze slid toward Ciri, and something in the way he looked at her made the hair on her arms rise despite the illusion draped over her. "And who is this lovely girl you've brought with you? Your new assistant, perhaps?"
Ge'els leaned in slightly, studying her with the frank, assessing eye of a man who saw the world in composition and color. "Such deep green eyes," he murmured, almost to himself. "I'd be delighted to paint you sometime, perhaps later. Would you be interested?"
"Out of the question!" The words snapped out of Ciri before she could stop them, sharp and immediate, and for one heartbeat every one of them went still, surprise flickering openly across even Caranthir's carefully composed features.
Caranthir and Ge'els exchanged glances.
Avallac'h recovered first, smooth as ever. "What she means to say," he said, a touch too quickly, "is that I have already instructed her to attend to a task for me later this evening. She simply cannot spare the time."
"I see," Ge'els said, though something in his tone suggested he saw rather more than he let on, his eyes lingering on Ciri. "Perhaps another time, then."
Caranthir only smiled and said nothing aloud, though something passed behind his eyes that looked very much like satisfaction. 'She cannot hide her nature, not fully, not behind so thin a guise. Good. The plan unfolds precisely as we hoped it would, General.'
"If you'll excuse us," Avallac'h said, already turning, "I must pay my respects to His Majesty."
Ge'els inclined his head. "Of course."
Avallac'h led Ciri away, weaving through the crowd of elves. The moment they were out of earshot, Ciri leaned closer.
"Isn't that the elf that came to you when we were in your hideout in the forest? The one who found you?"
"Caranthir," Avallac'h confirmed, voice equally quiet. "Yes."
"I do not like that one. There is something about him that makes my skin crawl." Ciri said.
"I wish I could tell you that you're wrong to feel that way." Something tightened around Avallac'h's eyes. "But I don't trust him either. Not since he became one of General Eredin's most trusted men."
"Where is this evil general, then? I thought he would be here, lording over everyone." Ciri said while looking around.
"I didn't see him among the guests tonight," Avallac'h said. "Which likely means he is in your world even now. Hunting for you."
"You told me Caranthir was their navigator." Ciri's brow furrowed. "How can they even open a way to my world without him?"
Avallac'h glanced at her. "You remembered every word of that."
"I pay attention to the important details," Ciri said, unflinching. "Especially the ones that concern my own wellbeing, and my world's."
Avallac'h paused, his voice carrying the weight of a man who was about to reveal something significant. "Caranthir is their navigator, yes. But he is not the only one who can guide the Wild Hunt. There are others less skilled, and there are other portals scattered around your world that connects with ours." He paused, his voice dropping. "Eredin does not trust Caranthir completely. He keeps him close, but he also keeps backups."
Ciri smiled. "So even they do not trust each other. Good."
"Do not mistake their internal conflicts for weakness. They are still after the same goal." Avallac'h said.
"Come, then," Avallac'h said, guiding her with a light touch toward a side archway draped in pale, flowering vines. "The king is not among the crowd tonight. He'll be in the royal garden, as he so often prefers."
"Sure. Whatever." Ciri fell into step beside him, arms crossing loosely as they walked, though her eyes never stopped moving, searching for exits, faces, the placement of every guard she could spot dressed as courtiers.
"Just... try not to be rude to His Majesty," Avallac'h said. "I believe you'll find him to your liking, given the chance."
Ciri's mouth pulled into a thin, wary line as they approached the garden's threshold, moonlight and starlight pooling strangely together beyond it. "He'd better not ask of me what I think he's going to ask of me."
Avallac'h did not respond. He simply led her toward the garden, leaving the noise of the feast behind them.
The garden stretched before them, a labyrinth of hedges and fountains, its paths lit by glowing crystals that pulsed with a soft, blue light.
And at the center of it all, seated on a bench of white stone, was the king.
He rose as they approached, he was an elf who had ruled for centuries. "Avallac'h. I was wondering when you would arrive." His eyes shifted to Ciri, and a warm smile spread across his face. "And you must be the one I have heard so much about."
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