Shadow at the temple – Chapter 6

Having had little choice in the matter, contingent on that she sought to prolong her operations and impercesm-making opportunities in Dezasha, Eyren committed herself to the layout which Malkiz had set for her and headed off to the Lunentian Inn amid the western sectors, which isn’t in fact immensely remote from some of the administrative regions of the city. Not wishing to leave her companion on her lonesome, however, Eyren guided Razz with her towards it, in hopes that they’d approve of letting the raptor be stationed somewhere in the premises.

The first aspect she notes is how this is undoubtedly a finer establishment than the more regular lodgings out by the harbor, placed by the side of one of the canals which flows and separates districts of the city. As much as one could point out how the curvature of the roof edges, the flower decorations or outdoor serving areas are all instances which would prove its higher stature from its commoner competitors, what gets Eyren’s crosshairs aimed at it is the fact that it’s got windows. Not of glass, but leastwise apertures with neat and complex designs on its surface which can be opened and closed. A heap of inns she’s visited throughout the continent either don’t explore this factor whatsoever in their design, or can’t afford to be picky enough to have it constructed. Furthermore, while it’s isolated from its adjacent section – partially by the canal but equally a small garden – what she can spot beyond the doors when she passes over the minor bridge is that a guard is posted in the outskirts.

The guardsman beside the door isn’t heavily armored, even if he carries a zhao, a quite common single-edged saber-like weapon in Shaim Xil. Situated in his white-blue robes, he parks a hand on the hilt of his blade and rises, quizzically eyeing Eyren and her raptor. She does appear like a warrior in her outer, ergo she doesn’t blame him for his unrest.
“This is Lunentian”, he says in Ahteron. “What is your business here, jáwimder?”, he asks, using a word which Eyren knows refers to an outsider.

“Uh, I’m here to see an…associate of mine.”

At that, the guard narrows his eyes a touch.
“What is your name?”

“Eyren.”

At last, the guard’s shoulders and expression slackens and he seats himself upon his chair outside once more.
“I see. I had a specific reference to let you in. Please proceed inside, chouken.”

Internally, Eyren has to question whether he wouldn’t have permitted her entry if she hadn’t been up front with her name. Do they regularly demand express accreditation in order to be allowed within here, or could it have just been due to her attire? No matter, she figures.
“Would be it okay if I station my raptor friend out here too?”

With a reluctant look at her, he shrugs his shoulders.
“Granting that she doesn’t become a nuisance…very well. For the time being, it is permitted.”

Eyren nods in apprehension and leads Razz aside, to one of the sides of the inn, concurrently whispering to the raptor in Foerngu-en.
“Don’t bother him overmuch, got it? That’s just gonna get you in trouble.” Razz chirps in response and rubs her nose against Eyren’s cheek, but it’s unclear whether she’s in on this. “I’ll come back and check on you later.”

Upon entering the establishment through the front door, Eyren finds herself in a type of lobby, what she assumes is the reception area, another highly offbeat component in regular inns. She can note two corridors to separate quarters, where peeking around one corner helps her see a set of stairs leading up. Besides the dark-wood interior and the sundry pots with to her unknown ornamental plants, there is a woman in a set of light blue robes, her eyes reptilian, her bobcut hair black and skin pale, besides the scales which linger over her cheeks and neck. She smiles mannerly when Eyren approaches, speaking in Junvishti.

“Welcome to the Lunentian inn, most gracious guest. How may I assist you?”

Scratching the back of her head, Eyren croaks forth her obviously foreign accent.
“Uh, I am Eyren. I am here to see a guest who is staying at this inn.”

“Ah, I see I see. Please provide the designation of this guest, and I will do my best to assist you with the matter.”

“Yes, that is…a tricky situation to get into, because-“

Fortunately, Eyren’s bumbling attempt is closed off by a man exiting from the western corridor, having probably sat in a room to the side somewhere. He’s clad in a coat above what Eyren would deem is leather armor, full beard and hair black, skin a light brown-purple, plus some avian feathers around the rear of the neck.
“Miss Eyren?”, he asks in Ahteron, but his accent is problematic to hunt down. “I’m one of two guards for Lady Zarqui. She entrusted me to fetch you.”

Eyren arches one brow with unhidden symptoms of confusion. Zarqui? Not a moniker she’s familiar with in the least. Could it be Malkiz’s other alias, then?
“Oh, I see. Take me to her, then”, she says, not even questioning it outwardly. In spite of that the clerk by the desk acts a bit indecisive, she doesn’t gainsay them and gestures with her hand for Eyren to go along.

Crossing the threshold of the steps and striding upwards, Eyren reaches another corridor with what she assumes is the next floor belonging to suits one can rent, but there’s only a handful provided, meaning each one has to be exceedingly commodious. Being guided to one where a second guard is holding, the pair doesn’t go with her, but flag for her to check in, which she does and they shut the slide-door behind her.
Had she been impressed by the exterior, the interior steals its thunder through and through. Not solely is it a space that has to encompass leastwise three rooms, but its decorated to the max. High-quality dark wood furniture, various paintings of landscapes and symbolism which Eyren isn’t familiar with in a range of colors, dangling lanterns along the roof and walls, not to mention an opening to what Eyren presumes has to be a balcony. This is a hotel of opulence which Eyren has never even stood inside before, only defended from the outside when she was a Rittmark squire.

What stupefies her additionally is the person who slips into the quarters she’s currently situated at, who Eyren would instantly mark as a woman, and a gorgeous one at that. She wears a long and fine white-pink silk dress with a bit of a deeper neckline, albeit it possesses sleeves that slither down on the sides. Scrutinizing this stunner who advances on her, seeing the brown hide, the slim shape which sashays forth, the luscious blonde hair which hangs over her shoulder, the tail which flick behind her, not to mention the feline ears above, she-…wait a minute. Shit, doesn’t she look practically the same way as Malkiz?

“Eh, are you…lady Zarqui?”, wonders Eyren, sticking to Ahteron.

With a more engaged flicker of her ears, this woman levels her right hand on the adjoining hip, lists to the side and smirks slyly.
“What’s the matter, shadi Eyren? Has my new getup flabbergasted you to the point where you can’t recognize me?”

His tone really is something as well, distinctly sweeter, but virtually unrecognizable from the man Eyren nattered with beyond the warehouse. Or should Eyren actually consider him as ‘she’ now?
“Uh…I mean, I do, but…”, Eyren mumbles and fidgets a hand over her neck. “I…hadn’t expected this. You’re really…Malkiz?”

Giggling sweetly, Eyren can sense how the chord tugs at her heart in a vein she could’ve never foreseen.
“You may certainly address me like that in private, but outwardly I prefer ‘Zarqui’ while I’m in this guise”, she says, but in one of the northern languages.

“What the-…
You speak Goetejul?”, she asks in the same tongue.

“Mhm. I am fluent in numerous tongues across this continent, I believe you’ll find.”

“Herrsangu…you’re not what I’d imagined at all.”

“Hehe. Is it the accommodations you’re referring to…or something else entirely?”, Malkiz wonders, adding a wink at the end.

“Ahem. Maybe…both.”

Prancing up to Eyren deviously and smoothly, Malkiz wraps her right arm around Eyren’s left, and draws her onwards, guiding her to settle them on the accessible chairs. Once she’s close to a cupboard just past a corner, Eyren looks up to note an animal perched up there against a shelf, who meets her gaze with a bend of his head.
“Oh. Karsift is here too?”

“That is right.”

“So, he gets to be by your side wherever you go, eh?”

“Mhm. He flies with me from end to end of my journeys. And expressly in the more extravagant parlors.”

“You just waltzed right into the lodge with him on your shoulder?”

“Ah, not quite. I do have to preserve the impression of my current personage, and Zarqui does not have a pet raven openly. It wasn’t hugely straining to let him in through the balcony, however.”

“Heh, that’s good to hear. Oh yeah, that reminds me – is Razz free to be stationed near the inn? I don’t want to have her caged in a stable all the time…”

“Without condition, yes. I did caution the caretakers that an associate of mine with a raptor would be making an appearance, which was acceptable to them, assuming that it is not a permanent arrangement.”

In minutes, Malkiz has taken a chair in conjunction with Eyren and she ensures both that the two of them tightly, but furthermore that Eyren is placed on her right.
“So, um…I have a question”, goes Eyren.

“Yes?”

“How should I…address you right now?”

“Oh. You won’t have to overdo it or manufacture an original alias. Malkiz is suitable.”

“Yeah, fine, but…should I say ‘lady’, then?”

Cocking a brow and letting a smirk play on her lips, Malkiz shrugs her shoulders.
“For Zarqui, yes, that would be befitting of her stature. In terms of my normal personality, I do not really mind either way.”

“So, either works?”

“Perfectly. I have invariably lead a fluid existence, in the seam of independent identities and values. I rarely care for specific norms or philosophies. A person’s selfhood is not defined by their gender or anatomy, but their behavior and deeds.”

Eyren seesaws her head with some sympathy.
“Suppose I can dig how that plays out. Haven’t met a heavy load of people close to your stock, but also never had any gripes with ’em either.”

Having stated this, Malkiz’s ears twinkle briefly and she pushes a little nearer.
“I am pleased you feel that way.” Widening her hand over the table, where a fabric lies above with a knitted icon of some sort of horned creature depicted, Malkiz grasps a bottle and some short glasses next to it. “Would you care for a sip of arakeshu?”

Eyren knows the name, a local variety of rice wine, extremely popular and moderately strong too. Not as affordable as the cheap beer ‘twisingek’, but undeniably higher prized.
“Oh, yeah, don’t mind if I do. Haven’t had this in at least a year or two.”

“Aha. You have sampled their beverages often, then?”

“Whenever I’m here, sure. Their beer isn’t as tasty as our mield, but their wine is something else.”

“Hah, I cannot dispute you on that topic.” Shifting the bottle in her hand, Malkiz pours up two glasses for them, which they both clink afterwards and imbibe a gulp from. “If you are identically mindful of the native delicacies, I ordered a meal of ‘shoo-nea dwom em khri-yoo’ to be prepared, but it might take an hour or so.”

Another title Eyren has heeded in the past, being a spicy genre of steamed fish.
“Mm, yeah, excellent choice. I’d never turn that down, even if I normally settle for guangishyu”, she says, instancing a salted fish meal.

Malkiz titters a smidgen.
“I was not certain whether you would be adept or not in the local culture, but I hear now that you must be quite a regular.”

“Hah! I’ve dwelled here from time to time, yeah. It’s one of the better venues to find profitable commissions at, but I do like the food and people as well, won’t lie.”

“This likewise pleases me, for I won’t have to illuminate the neighborhood for you, then. Since we have to linger for a session, though, what do you say we have an exchange about some lighter topics to start with? I would wish to find out what the guards responded to you, as to added missions.”

“Oh, sure. I mean, I spoke with my contact Minhai, one of the members of the regional guard force.”

“You cited that you would seek to prolong your visit to her?”

“Right, but I didn’t bring your name up. And she claimed that she’ll keep the proposal in mind, yet she couldn’t ignore the fact that she was…well, a little disappointed with the lack of valuable results on our last go. Like, I effectively came to her emptyhanded and then requested she pay me again for coming jobs…”

“Ahh, quite right. She cannot be blamed for this, but nor could you, I feel there’s an argument to be made for. Nonetheless, I assure you that her attitude and our outlooks will alter in the not-too-distant future.”

“Guess I’ll have to take your word for it. While we’re sitting here together anyway, is it fine to tell ya that I’m curious of a few factors that we haven’t worked out?”

“As regards my endeavor or the terms?”

“No no, not related to the assignment at all, as a matter of fact. It concerns you and your associates.”

Crooking her ears aslant for a beat, Malkiz bobs her head.
“Oh? Well, in the event you have queries of me or my organization, ask away. I can satisfy almost anything.”

Is this an objectively sincere statement or not? Eyren can’t distinguish distortion in Malkiz’s voice or her visage, but she’s remarkably hard to read. Guess Eyren will let it slide.
“First things first: have you been in contact with Nivra?”

“The Resistance fugitive? Not personally, being that I do not associate with shadi Nivra, but I have been introduced to her and she did look to be in good health.”

“Has she gone underground somewhere?”

“Indeed. Whereas I cannot attest her exact whereabouts for you, she is temporarily frequenting one of Ne Jesut’s coverts.”

“Ne Jesut…”, Eyren mutters and cups her hands around the liquor glass. “Osvij recited that moniker to us when we initially chatted, but it’s seriously not an organization I’ve picked up on anywhere else.”

“Heh, not a jaw-dropping notion, I hope you will understand, for we are a comparatively secretive fellowship.”

“Yeah, I did put that together. But going by that you are all hush-hush, what makes you two accept that I’m entitled to know of it?”

“I cannot speak on his behalf, suffice it to say, but if I were to theorize by founding it on our conversation, he reasoned that you can be depended on to keep certain secrets and not betray it to the world.”

“How come?”

“You were happy to safeguard shadi Nivra, even with your own life, a woman who we aspired to collaborate with.”

A retrospective emotion inundating her, Eyren presses her fingers slightly into the tip of the cup.
“Well…that’s true, but…”

“And to be clear, I respect his actions. What you were amenable to sacrifice, for someone you had affiliated with for but a few days and while denigrating yourself as a ‘bounty hunter’, is frightfully uncommon. And we must take heed to nurse such relationships carefully.”

“I…um…” She clears her throat and struggles not to feel embarrassed about the laurels heaped over her. “It just sounds, y’know…risky.”

“Sometimes you have to take risks for the sake of prospective, beneficial partnerships.”

“But like, I’ve never even stumbled on your movements throughout any of the places I’ve been to, and I visited virtually every province throughout my Rittmark education.”

Malkiz flips her head a bit and her tail curls in a gripping fashion.
“Oh my. You are a Rittmark knight?”

“…uh, he didn’t tell you?”

“Osvij? He did not.”

“I see. But eh, no, I’m not with them these days. I quit after ‘graduating’. It’s a…complicated story.”

“Hmm. I admit that I should very much cherish being audience to this tale at some point. But to play off your alleged point, and to be very frank with you, Ne Jesut was extremely uncommunicative and relatively unknown until recently. I was recruited merely a couple of years back, and they were not known to me either.”

“Who were you with before, then?”

“Among…other shadows”, she says vaguely.

Eyren selects not to poke into that, for fear it might somehow spawn a rift between them.
“Okay, but to me, it sounds as if you aren’t very secure in your stance.”

“An accurate point of view, of a fashion. Ne Jesut operates quite loosely, in spite of that they have had a recruitment surge in the latest decade. They barely permit anyone – that I am aware of – to be acquainted with the entire leadership structure, besides through occasional messengers and the like. I do not even know who is really in charge.”

“Wow, that does come across as…super strange. To me, anyhow. How can you be sure there is a leadership, then?”

“I am not, but each mission and task entrusted to me can be understood from a sort of interrelated net. The actuality of me having this disguise and the present made-up position is on their account.”

“Huh. They have impercesm then, I’m guessing. And what of the name? What does it translate into?”

Malkiz shakes her head.
“Another mystery to me. I believe it commences from a vocabulary somewhere in Vitaloña, and supposedly, it means ‘eleventh factor’.”

“…and what’s that about?”

Malkiz shrugs.
“Again, I am clueless. I have ruminated on it in the past, and wondered if it could be linked to the Shades of Creation, since they are ten.”

“O…kay. Then, what, they’re proclaiming to be an eleventh god or whatever?”

This induces a snicker out of Malkiz.
“No no, shadi Eyren. We are not that arrogant.”

“Wasn’t trying to accuse you specifically…”

“Heh, I realize, yes.”

“Oh yeah, this reminds me. That word you keep addressing me with, ‘shadi’…what does that mean?”

Yet again, Malkiz virtually seems to have an inclination to test Eyren somehow, or if nothing else quip with her, for she winks slyly at the knight.
“You do not comprehend Hooshay, then?”

“That’s…one of the languages in Ngoyamen, right? But no, I barely get a single word.”

“Mhm, Hooshay is the speech of the central lands, and one of the most widespread on the whole.”

“You were born there, then?”

“If you had not been qualified to heed it from my accent, then yes.”

“You’re from Kubitauf?”, she says, citing the largest market on the continent, located smack-dab in the center of the whole shebang.

“Mm, in that region. Although Kubitauf is merely the marketplace. Mimhor Bashru is the city it belongs to.”

“Right, sorry. Always forget.”

“At any rate, ‘shadi’ is a form to address women with, which would be reworded into ‘miss’ or ‘mrs’ in Ahteron. For men, it is ‘mzteer’.”

Eyren bobs her head pokily.
“Mm, okay then. What was that other word you used earlier, when we were out in the alley?”

“Hmm. Could it be ‘mrabang’ you’re talking about?”

“Oh, yeah yeah, that one.”

Twisting her mouth into a little cryptic smile at this stage, Malkiz lifts her right hand to stroke a finger over her own lips in consideration.
“It is…a term of endearment. You could render it as ‘good-looking’ or ‘darling’.”

Snorting softly, Eyren crosses her strong arms and tilts her head.
“Do you usually flirt with people you’ve only just ran into?”

Even if the spy doesn’t shift her arms or fundamentally her body in broad strokes, Eyren detects how Malkiz’s tail slinks over her posterior.
“The right ones, sure.”