Three long tense days later, the group had arrived at Gully's Port. The journey had been heated as the First Prince and the ancient goddess had argued over Assem. As to add to their worries, they also weren't sure how effective the artifact Cyril had used on them was. But no more apparitions haunted them within the woods, and it had been extremely dull. When they had more people, there was always some sort of entertainment to be had. Singing, dancing, or gossip. There was none of that within their group, at least, not after that argument.
They passed beneath the Old Gate, the guards were more than happy they were gone. Priscilla had noted that the Inspection Officer, a low-ranked noble, had been nervous around Randol. He had been more nonchalant and uninterested in actually inspecting from what she saw. He had been more interested in making conversation with Cyril. This was until Randol had pushed his Royal Token in the officer's face. Afterward, it had been smooth sailing, the officer more than willing to let them by.
Priscilla rode between the goddess's lovely arms again. She had been more than aware of the lustrous gleam; the officer hadn't even bothered to try. It reminded her of a few of the "forbidden" books, stashed upon a high shelf in the study, she was keenly aware that it was a "romance" story. In it, there was a scene were an Inspection Officer had harassed the heroine sexually. This went out for a few paragraphs until the charming male lead came in to save her.
While she didn't remember the rest of that story, she had come to know that it was quite common for inspection officers to do such acts. Of course, to the common folk. In fact, there wasn't a year when some inspection officers had not been jailed for their behavior. Nonetheless, once presented with a royal token, none of them were harassed.
The horses trodded down the Old Avenue, their horses kept in single file and lock-stepped. Stalls lined either side of the large road. Wagons and carriages occupied the center, and in between it all, foot traffic weaved about. The peaceful sounds of nature, the songs of birds and wind, were replaced by shouts. The wagons rattled and there seemed to be someone always being nearly missed by one. Merchants advertised their wares loudly, and some even argued with each other.
Born and raised in the Capital, Priscilla noticed the distinct difference between the two. Here, everyone seemed to wear dull, but practical clothing. The Capital, on the other hand, seemed to be a place where everyone wanted to show off. Fancy large hats and puffy dresses that need the assistance of maids. While here, everyone where simple tunic and dresses, though nicer than that of the folks in the suburbs. It was nicer.
Cyril wasn't impressed. She noted that heavily beaten dirt road. The lack of buildings taller than three stories. Most were timber-framed while a few had some rock foundations showing. The only complete stone structures were the city's walls and the City Lord's castle. Built upon a hill, natural or man-made, she couldn't say, it towered over the port city like a lone sentinel. It was... dull...
The cities she had designed, along with her parents, were majestic, to say the least. Towering stones that caught the passing of digital clouds. City centers could reach stores close to one-hundred stories, though that was the technological cap. Buildings were adorned with murals and--- She changed the thought with a sigh. She made the mistake of comparing a real-world place to her digital empires. Of course, they wouldn't have the ability to do such. Magic, in its very lore, was hard-pressed to complete the feats she had built.
She didn't exactly build within the confines of her own written lore.
Her eyes wandered over the buildings on their sides. None reached higher than three stories. They were timber-framed homes with wood tile roofs. All of them were built up next to each other apartments. She hadn't paid much attention to the homes in Quinn's Wood, it had been a village, and she had not expected much there. This, however, was a city and her expectations were quickly broken. Unlike in anime, there weren't any shops with glass windows. They were open windows with shutters and secured from the inside with security bars. The only structure that had remotely interested her was the castle that loomed over them.
"Noble ladies!" A merchant called out to Cyril and Priscilla, their file forced closer by a small traffic jam. "Your beauty will be complemented by my wares!" He held up a lovely metal hairpin shaped in a moon and another shaped with a sun. Priscilla's eyes lit up, but Cyril only smiled and waved them away with a polite refusal. They weren't much to look at.
"But they were adorable!" Priscilla whined as she leaned over to steal another glance.
"We don't have money." Cyril reminded her. "Desmond the rest of the money on rations."
The merchant's stall was left behind. As if a spell had been broken, shop and stall keepers called out to them. Their file smelled of money, though they had none to spend. Assem's saber came to mind. Maybe she could sell it, Cyril thought.
"Finely tailored dresses here!" A shop girl called out
"Fresh bears!" A stall keep yelled. "Lovely ladies must have lovely fruits!"
One by one, tenders tried to lure the file to their wares. As it was midday, the traffic was at its peak. They were kept to the fringes of the road, close to the shops and stalls. Thus, the two girls at the back of the line kept being solicited. The treatment, unfortunately, was not extended to the non-human in their group.
Mai had to suffer dirty glares and mothers steering their children away in fear. Had she kept her robe, she would have hidden away underneath. It wasn't until one of the stall owners had yelled at her did Cyril and Priscilla notice.
"Filthy savage!" She cursed with disgust.
Then she noticed the stares, and even obscene gestures were thrown up at her.
"Stupid peasants." Priscilla's demeanor changed as she glared down at the people now.
"Why are they doing that?" Cyril had half a mind to dismount and commence a whole-sale beating upon them.
"They hate her," Priscilla said. "She's a beast-kin, and they still hate them from a war none of them had ever fought in."
"War?" Cyril tried to remember if there were any long-held grudges she wrote, but none came to mind.
"The War of the Planes," Priscilla answered. "It happened nearly just over a hundred years ago. The Empire tried to annex the Beastial planes. They had underestimated the tribes and ended up retreating from the planes utterly defeated. The Beast-kin are stronger, faster, and more resilient. Only off-set by their low birth rates, they're forced to be reckoned with. Mai is more human than beast, but it doesn't stop them from hating her. "
"Do you hate her...?" Cyril asked.
"No..." Priscilla asked sadly.
The pair fell silent as Desmond began to shout back at a pair of men who yelled at Mai.
"Would it be wrong to say that I'm jealous of her...?" Priscilla asked. Her voice was barely loud enough for Cyril to hear. She didn't answer. She wasn't sure if she could. The file continued on as they listened to an irate Desmond as he defended Mai's honor with verbal vigor...