The guards led us through the streets of Blacksand City toward the spire. The colossal obsidian formation was still massive, but it was missing a very noticeable amount at the top. Jagged chasms tore through the city terraces girding its length, and countless rockfalls and hardened magma flows broke up the once beautiful bridges and streets.
The city was surprisingly lively, with marketers opening amidst the ruins. Many of the civilians carried injuries, but their eyes were bright, and a bounce filled most of their steps. Children ran through the streets, playing tag and collecting wildflowers that grew between the cracked and broken paving stones.
"See? We did it," R’lissea whispered, taking my hand and squeezing it.
I nodded. "I know, it’s just...I wish they’d stop staring at us."
Elise giggled on my other side. "They can’t help it. The flowers were a nice touch, too."
I fingered the wreath of flowers resting on my head. R’lissea had insisted I wear them, but if it was the reason for the gawking...
No, she was just teasing. I’d been in enough cities to know that it didn’t matter what I looked like. People would stare, whisper, and gawk at demonkin no matter the situation. At least they weren’t spitting and shouting this time. Yet.
"Is that the cathedral?" R’lissea asked.
She pointed to a towering building with slender towers and thick walls. Towering stained glass windows cast colorful motes of light across the street outside the gates. Mana cannons rested over the ramparts, glowing faintly but not charged. Several groups of soldiers patrolled around the walls, offering us salutes. A seventh-level mage sat on a horse with a strange, pearly horn on its forehead, like a unicorn. She nodded at the captain of our guard, but her eyes lingered on me, following us as we passed.
"It’s heavily guarded," Elise said.
"Even if there is peace with the demons, do not think they trust us," Fyren said. "No human in their right mind would allow their Shard to be unguarded at a time . Even if it is scheduled to be taken later today."
"So the truce held?" I asked.
He nodded. "Barely, but Elise managed to convince both Luke and the emperor."
Elise looked at the ground. "I didn’t do anything. I just didn’t want all this death and destruction to be in vain. There has to be something left when this war is over."
R’lissea chuckled. "Don’t believe her. No one knows how she convinced Luke, but I was there when she addressed the court. It gave me chills."
"I wish I could have seen it," I said, eyeing Elise. "I’m sure you did great."
She nodded, fingering her skirt shyly.
The road leading to the first level of the spire was packed with people dressed in clothes that far outshined my modest dress. Their bearing was noble, and even the children felt aloof and composed. Guards and servants trailed behind each cluster, keeping a wary eye on their counterparts. Our guards had to release their auras to clear a way, allowing us to pass in their midst. We caught more than a few dirty looks, which, oddly enough, had me feeling more at ease. At least they weren’t trying to hide their disdain like the common folk.
Our destination came into view on the third level of the spire, some two hundred feet above the lower city. It was a vast, spacious mansion similar to the manors and palaces that had once proudly reigned over the capitol. It was even more heavily defended than the cathedral, with the nobles’ personal guards joining in as they entered the wide gates.
A group of sixth and seventh-level guards checked each family entering before allowing them through. Our guards led us to the front of the line, where a seventh-level man with a dark red beard stopped us, glancing up in annoyance.
"Halt! All those with an invitation must wait-" The man made eye contact with the leader of our guards and sucked in a sharp breath. "Ah, please, forgive me, my Lady. Right this way."
The guard snorted and stored her silver spear in her spatial ring. The other guards followed suit with their weapons, and we passed the waiting nobles into the manor grounds. The outer courtyards were filled with sprawling gardens and fountains. Tables and delicate pavilions dotted the area, with servants passing in and out, carrying refreshments to nobles. Steam wafted from vents in the flagstones, curling around our feet like mist. The flowers and shrubbery were wilted slightly, the ends of the leaves and petals curled in and blackened.
Nobles strolled through the gardens, speaking in low, hushed whispers. Their cautious glances in my direction were unmistakable, yet just as often, they were focused on Elise. Many of the women wore small, displeased frowns, their eyes narrowed at her. Elise, for her part, looked on edge as I did, sheltered beside me in Fyren’s shadow.
Another low wall separated the outer courtyards from the inner. An eighth-level warrior dressed in ornate ceremonial plate stood before the gate, hands resting on the crossguard of a broadsword taller than I was. He was massive, almost all tall as Gathrin, his face hidden behind a helmet with narrow eye slits.
"Lord Blister," our guard said, lowering her head politely.
"Welcome, Lady Ula. You’re cutting it awfully close on time. You didn’t encounter any trouble, did you?" the man asked.
She shrugged. "The Oracle and Hero took more time to prepare than we anticipated. Other than that, there was nothing but a few dirty looks from the nobles. I doubt they appreciated us cutting in line. Breaks a lot of traditions."
Something about the way she said that made me think she agreed with the sentiment. If the pretentious ceremony during the treaty signing was anything to go by, Blacksand was a deeply traditional empire.
Lord Blister shrugged. "Can’t be helped. It was the emperor’s orders, after all."
The soldier waved his hand, and a pair of attendants slipped from within the inner courtyard and presented two empty silver platters to us. The guards set their spatial rings on the platters. The servants turned to us expectantly."
Elise and I shared a look. Fyren snorted and folded his arms.
"You’re not serious," he said, meeting Lord Blister’s gaze.
The soldier didn’t flinch. "None may bring such items into the presence of the court during a banquet. It is law."
"I suggest you revise it," Fyren said.
I nodded, holding my tongue. Spatial rings were enchanted to only yield the mana signature of their owner, but there were many spells capable of bypassing that. I had too many precious things in my ring to hand it into the custody of another out of my sight. Anything of material worth was in Haven, but my most precious things were with me. The letter from Thron, for instance, or the broach given to me by the Glory Chasers. R’lissea hadn’t allowed me to wear them today, but I couldn’t bear to leave them behind.
The temperature dropped, neither man backing down. Ula, the leader of the guards, let out an exasperated sigh.
"Please, demon, do not press us. Under normal circumstances, perhaps we could permit it, yet after last week? None would dare come if another were to enter armed. This is our best way to guarantee everyone’s safety."
Lord Blister nodded and cast an apologetic glance at Fable. "And, erm, I’m afraid animals aren’t allowed in the inner courtyard. Even if it’s a soul bonded beast."
"What?" I asked, gripping my wolf’s fur tightly. "He won’t hurt anyone."
Lord Blister burst into laughter. It was deep and genuine, making my cheeks flush.
"I saw him drag a dragon out of the sky, Oracle. How could I allow a monster like that if even the weakest daggers are banned?"
"But he’s...Fable," I said in a small voice.
I bit my lip, eyes tearing up. I didn’t want to be here, not with Fable. I was tired and sore, and my soul felt terrible. Even with Elise and R’lissea near and everyone watching, I felt like curling up and crying. But before I could, a new presence joined us, gliding up from the inner courtyards.
"What seems to be the matter here?"
Elaine’s voice was soft and unassuming, yet both Lord Blister and our guards stiffened. I looked up to find her frowning, her eyes reading my expression. Between the tears in my eyes and the limpness of my tail, it couldn’t have been hard.
"Nothing, my lady," Lord Blister said stiffly. "There was some confusion around the laws and traditions of the banquet. I trust they are clear now?"
He stared at Fyren, daring him to argue.
The demon’s lip curled in a subtle sneer. "The only thing that is clear is we are no longer welcome here."
Elaine’s eyes narrowed. "On what grounds are they refused entry?"
"They won’t let Fable in," I said, voice wavering on the edge of a sniffle.
"...among other things," Lord Blister muttered. He sighed and adjusted his helmet. "The demon refuses to surrender his weapons and spatial ring for safekeeping."
"Is that all? In that case, there is no need to concern yourself. The laws of the empire are written for all, but they cannot apply equally. No eighth or ninth-level being is crippled without a weapon. This demon could kill you with its bare hands, despite you being of the same level."
Lord Blister hesitated. "And the wolf?"
She glanced at me. I hugged Fable tighter, my lower lip quivering.
"It stays. Now move aside; the emperor is waiting."