The journey to the castle was a whirlwind of emerald feathers and breathtaking vistas. Shantotto, ever the master storyteller, wove tales of meracydian lore between jabs at the King's incompetence. Adachi, enthralled by the vibrant landscape and her captivating voice, almost forgot the weight of their mission.
But the looming shadow of the castle brought him back to reality. Shantotto landed with a flourish, her fiery hair swirling about her like a miniature cyclone. "Remember, Adachi," she whispered, her face suddenly serious, "keep your story straight. You're a lost Hyur Midlander, a wanderer. No one must know of your... otherworldly origins."
Shantotto, leading Adachi through the grand halls of San d'Oria, continued to talk in hushed tones. The towering architecture of the city loomed overhead, a stark contrast to the open landscapes of Konschtat Highlands where Adachi had first appeared in this world.
"Yanas, darling," Shantotto teased, her voice carrying a theatrical lilt, "your name is positively peculiar. It lacks the subtlety needed for our little charade. From now on, you're Adachi no more; you're Yanas. It has a certain ring to it, don't you think?"
Adachi raised an eyebrow but complied with a nod. "Sure, Yanas it is. But what's the deal with the name change?"
Shantotto, always one to relish in intrigue, leaned closer and whispered, "Names carry power, my dear. And in this city, we're weaving a delicate dance of deception. Yanas will help you blend in better. Besides, it sounds more Meracydian , doesn't it?"
As they approached the guards stationed behind the castle's bridge, Shantotto shot Adachi a meaningful look. "Remember, Yanas, mum's the word. Keep those lips sealed tighter than a coffer in a thieves' den. Let me do the talking."
The guards, clad in polished armor and standing at attention, cast a curious gaze upon the duo. Shantotto, undeterred, approached them with an air of regal confidence. "I am here to see Tarut." she declared, her tone brooking no argument.
The guards exchanged glances but eventually stepped aside, granting them passage across the bridge. Shantotto led Yanas through the imposing gates and into the heart of San d'Oria. The bustling streets were filled with people of various races, and Adachi couldn't help but marvel at the vibrant tapestry of this fantasy world.
As they walked, Adachi, still adjusting to the new alias, couldn't resist asking Shantotto about the change in location. "Where are we now? Last time we were in some open area with hills, right?"
Shantotto nodded, her eyes gleaming with a mixture of mischief and wisdom. "Very astute, Yanas. You catch on quickly. the ritual took place at Konschtat Highlands, far away from praying eyes. The king wanted to keep our little collaboration under wraps, not just because he's getting help from a sorceress but a tarutaru one, and you know how people can be about my race."
Adachi, grappling and confused at her remark, asked again. "So this place is called?"
Shantotto chuckled, a sound that echoed through the cobbled streets. San d'Oria is ruled by King Tarut, and it's predominantly a city of Hyur, like yourself, with a sprinkle of us adorable tarutarus. It's a place where we can navigate without raising too many eyebrows. Now, let's get to the castle, Yanas. The real show is about to begin."
Shantotto, leading Adachi through the grand halls of San d'Oria, continued to talk in hushed tones. The towering architecture of the city loomed overhead, a stark contrast to the open landscapes of Konschtat Highlands where Adachi had first appeared in this world.
As they approached the guards stationed behind the castle's bridge, Shantotto shot Adachi a meaningful look. "Remember, Yanas, mum's the word. Keep those lips sealed tighter than a coffer in a thieves' den. Let me do the talking."
Shantotto chuckled, and said "Now, let's get to the castle, Yanas. The real show is about to begin."
Shantotto, oblivious to the glares like fireflies flickering in the midday sun, breezed through the castle gates with the air of a queen surveying her domain. Adachi, however, felt the weight of each disdainful look like a physical blow. The Hyurs, with their broad shoulders and sneering mouths, made their distaste painfully clear. Even the occasional tarutaru they passed seemed a mere shadow of their kin, their eyes downcast, their once vibrant skin dull and papery. It was a stark contrast to the lively, boisterous tarus he'd encountered when he was summoned, Shantotto.
Pushing a surge of anger down, Adachi followed Shantotto through the opulent streets, their footsteps echoing on the floors. The sheer opulence clashed grotesquely with the plight of the downtrodden tarus he'd glimpsed. It was a cruel show of the hierarchy at play here, a hierarchy Shantotto seemed to dance along the edge of with reckless abandon.
"Charming, isn't it?" Shantotto chirped, her voice tinkling like bells despite the tension in the air. "Reminds me of my own little workshop, minus the cobwebs and stray goblins, of course."
Adachi snorted, unable to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "Yeah, charming. Makes you wonder where all the gold for these gilded halls comes from, doesn't it?"
Shantotto winked, her eyes sparkling with mischief. "Ah, a budding activist! Don't worry, dear Yanas, the answer's rather predictable. Blood, sweat, and probably a sprinkle of taru tears for good measure."
The flippant response did little to ease Adachi's unease. He clenched his fists, the urge to lash out at the injustice boiling just beneath his skin. These were people, short, but still people, being treated like nothing more than discarded toys.
Suddenly, Shantotto stopped, her playful demeanor gone. She pointed toward a pair of imposing doors guarded by hulking knights in gleaming armor. "Well, well, looks like it's showtime. Remember, Yanas, keep those lips sealed tight. Let me handle the Tarut-wrangling."
She starts chanting out loud.
"Blazing runes like burning veins,
Stone to molten tears that rain.
Gates dissolve, a fiery maw,
Castle trembles, whispers raw.
Il Diga Shiza Broil"
The air crackled with anticipation as Shantotto's incantation wove its way through the castle gates. Her voice, normally a playful lilt, resonated with a raw power that sent shivers down Adachi's spine. The knights, faces contorted in a mix of fear and defiance, braced themselves for the inevitable clash.