I stood outside the palace entrance, the grand walnut doors shimmering with fine gold dust in the genial sunlight. The beautiful, intricate work of stone and marble made up the geometric and organic flourishes that decorated the facade of the castle's front. A soft, sighing breeze blew itself through my hair as a light brush of cold tickled my arms and legs. Up here it was so tranquil; horse hooves clacked in whispers against the pavers, high-class merchants and soldiers bustled along on their duties in an almost hushed manner, colorful songbirds chirped melodiously on the wavering branches of bountiful, sweeping trees bejeweled with thousands of blushing flower petals. Beyond it all lay a flaxen image of the resplendent sun, nearing its end for today's tireless cycle across the sky peppered with pastel clouds. The air tasted sweet and floral, a breath of natural lifeforce. I could stand in this position for hours if it meant witnessing the world in this light.
Oh, what stark contrast to the outskirts of the city below. Kunan City, the city of Fae that touches the clouds, was blatant in its segregation regarding species; where I lived in my family's very humble abode, the dirt roads were filthy and crawling with fetid disease, the buildings in shambles and made from wet, rotting planks. Blood ran through the streets as both old and young died pathetically, often by their own hands. These poverty-ridden outskirts all have something in common -- they house only humans. As you travel farther into the city, drastic differences in living conditions and wealth are immediately visible. And what surprise is it that the comfortable, luxurious, large homes and the long commercial stretches of exorbitant shops and bars owned by powerful and skilled tradesmen are all crawling with them, the High Fae of the world, Elves. With their flawless faces, elongated pointed ears, sharp teeth, and strange clothing and behaviors.
They disgusted me, they terrified me, and I definitely did not respect them. Despite this, the awe and dread that the king had imposed in me was unparalleled. I hated him, but I could not stop myself from admiring the unearthly light and aura he seemed to give off. He was ever so slightly different than the rest, more primal and animalistic. His pale blue eyes lacked empathy and even emotion, and I remembered how disturbingly lifeless they were. Not in a tormented, desperate way, but rather in a cruel, completely inhuman way. It's as if he barely saw me, as if I'm so insignificant, so inconsequential to him that my very existence was not deserving of his valuable attention.
And with these intoxicating thoughts and observations I remained in that spot in front of the palace's entrance, staring out into the void. I hugged a wide moleskin book tight to my chest which I was given by the cook, Kat, on my way out. It was a schedule for His Majesty, with all the arrangements for the next month clearly marked with their date, time, and location, as well as any additional information that was necessary.
So I was hired to keep the king accountable regarding his duties. What was he, a child? Why did I have to be responsible for him?
After our little interaction in his quarters, I was immediately and abruptly shown out by the same gray-eyed butler… or at least I had been assuming he was a butler by his attire. But I was beginning to realize just how much knowledge I lack about the world outside my own.
Now came a challenge: how do I return home? The human-village outskirts are so far out and below from the castle, and thus I had arrived here by way of a sympathetic human merchant with a tired old horse and worn carriage. Yet only the talented and wealthy traversed these roads after dawn, and I could tell by their sharp features and ears that they were not human, and therefore would be more likely to imprison me as their slaves than give me a free ride along the smooth and well-maintained roads reserved for the upper-class.
And thus I began to panic. Should I wait hours until the sun sets and the poor merchants come to deposit their share of taxes in flour, vegetables, and other materials? I might get killed,kidnapped, or punished for loitering outside the grand edifice like a pitiful beggar.
My eyes darted around, trying to find something, anything, anyone that would assist me. And after several minutes of no progress, I spotted a familiar face among the crowd just as tears threatened to escape my eyes.
The gray-eyed Elf was unaware of my presence, and appeared to be casually conversing with another male, one taller than him and dressed in a clearly first-rate indigo jacket that looked odd and foreign, with sleeves that flared out and intricate embroidery depicting wings across his shoulders and back. A member of nobility would be my guess, but I could not make out his face.
With a short exhale, I forced myself curtly through the crowd until I was near enough to nervously touch the Elf I recognized on the shoulder from behind. With nonhuman reflex he twisted around, familiar eyes widened in surprise. Dropping his gaze to me, panic spread across his face, much to my confused dismay.
"What is it?" The noble spoke, voice breathy. I realized that he could not see me, since I, as a human, was substantially shorter than everyone else there.
"Nothing, sir. I mistakenly thought I heard my name called out." He straightened himself and, his hands behind his back, discreetly pushed me further back.
"Alright then, I'll leave you to your duties. I advise you to not forget about our conversation, Kingesley." I caught a glimpse of the noble's slanted, upturned eyes as he flipped his shoulder-length glossy black hair and glided away towards a group of guardsmen a little ways away.
"What the hell do you want?" The gray-eyed elf seethed as he turned to me, face contorted in a concerned scowl. Glancing around, he grabbed me by the arm and dragged me into a patch of shade near the castle wall, out of the attention of others.
"I wanted to ask you for a favor," I started slowly, "colleague?"
His brows only furrowed closer together. "Don't call me that as if we're equals, human girl."
I noticed that he was unlike the others in the sense that he was unsure of himself, insecure with his every movement. And he seemed much, much more emotionally sentient than the King.
"Then at least tell me your name," I attempted.
The elf paused a moment before uttering cautiously, "Taro Kingseley."
I tried my best to meet him with a smile as I returned, "I'm Syndra Elwood. I hope we can work together."