The car came to a halt with a gentle purr of its engine. Cyrus stepped out, his eyes immediately drawn to the horizon. A giant magical shield spanned as far as he could see, its ethereal glow pulsating softly against the darkening sky. The sight left him momentarily breathless.
They have to be filthy rich for such luxury, he thought to himself. With this, there's no way someone could sneak in here. The very air seemed to shimmer with power, a testament to the strength of the magical wards.
Beside him, Leora opened her umbrella with a fluid motion that spoke of years of practice. Without a word, she stepped within the shield's boundary. Cyrus hesitated for a moment before following through. As he crossed the threshold, he felt his skin tingle, the magic ward rippling around him like a living thing. It was a strange sensation, akin to walking through a curtain of water.
The scene that greeted him on the other side left his mouth agape in wonder. A gigantic neoclassical-style manor sprawled before him, spanning his entire field of vision. It was a masterpiece of symmetry, with large pillars supporting its impressive facade, ornate detailing adorning every surface, and a magnificent entrance that seemed to beckon visitors forward. From one end of the manor, the sound of celebration could be heard - sparkling explosions of golden lights shot into the sky, painting the night with their brilliance.
As they approached the manor, a series of children rushed past them, their laughter echoing in the crisp evening air. They came to an abrupt halt in front of Leora, their eyes wide with excitement. Cyrus couldn't help but stare - each child bore the familiar bestial traits he had seen on Leora. They looked like a captivating mixture of lion and human, a unique feral beauty emanating from their very being. Their sparkling eyes, half-golden and resembling little jewels, regarded Leora with unbridled adoration.
"Sister Leora, you're back!" a little girl cried out, rushing forward to hug her.
"We missed you so much!" another chimed in, barely containing their excitement.
Leora, so that's how she's called, Cyrus mused. Pretty nice name. Unfortunately for you, don't expect me to admit that out loud.
Suddenly, Leora waved a finger, and the children halted in their tracks, their heads bowing slightly. Cyrus felt a pang of sympathy for the little ones, shocked by Leora's cold demeanor.
"Come on, lighten up," he found himself saying. "They're just kids. Don't be such a stone heart, it's obsolete."
The moment the words left his mouth, the children's demeanor changed dramatically. "Hey, filthy human! Don't talk to her like this!" they roared in unison. A deafening lion-like scream burst forth, causing Cyrus to stumble back in shock, his hands instinctively flying to his ears. As he regained his balance, he noticed something different about the children - their teeth. They had canines, two abnormally sharp fangs protruding downwards like vampire teeth, but much more intimidating.
Leora, seemingly unaffected by the outburst, turned to the children. "You shouldn't play here. It's not safe," she said, her voice softer than Cyrus had ever heard it as she caressed the little girl's hair. The child's ears wiggled in response, a smile blooming on her face as she nodded. "Leave now," Leora instructed, and the children obediently resumed their game, vanishing into the depths of the villa's grounds.
"What a game start," Cyrus muttered, slapping his face and shaking his head. Why did he even get involved?
As they continued towards the manor, Cyrus took in the meticulously maintained garden, its flowers lining the cobblestone driveway. Several luxurious sports cars, all of the latest models, were neatly parked near the entrance. The sheer opulence of the place was overwhelming.
"Where are we?" he asked, his gaze scrutinizing every inch of the manor as they entered. The corridors were spacious, adorned with various pictures that seemed to grow older the further they walked. The individuals in the portraits wore clothing that was a far cry from modern fashion, hinting at the long history of this place.
"Are these old folks your ancestors or something?" Cyrus pressed, frustrated by Leora's continued silence. "Hey, you could answer when someone asks you a question."
Why is she so... ah, I already regret coming here, he thought. It's simply impossible for us to vibe together. Sounds like Lork will have to wait a long time.
Leora pulled open the doors to the grand hall, revealing a modern room dominated by a luxurious chandelier hanging high above. Circular windows, shaped to resemble the familiar symbol on the card he had received, allowed the last rays of twilight to filter in. A series of figures came into view, all seated around a round table. Each of them exuded the same bestial aura as Leora. Cyrus noticed that the main seat remained empty, suggesting that someone important - certainly not him - was yet to arrive.
"Leora, you're back. How has it been living with humans for so long?" one of the males asked, leaning back in his chair with a smirk.
"She seems to have lost her manners, to say the least," a female voice added, her tone dripping with disdain.
Cyrus observed silently, noting the tension in the room. Looks like she doesn't get along well with everyone. Given her personality, it's no wonder, he mused.
Suddenly, the door opposite to them flashed open. The sound of chairs being pulled back echoed through the room as all the people at the table stood up, one after the other. Cyrus's curiosity was piqued - who commanded so much attention here? He turned to face the newcomer, and his mouth fell open in awe.
A woman gracefully walked towards them, her presence immediately dominating the room. She wore a long white gown that clung to her form, accentuated by a mantle with lion fur at the collar. Every step she took exuded elegance and power, the sound of her high heels clapping against the marble floor resonating through the hall. In her arms, she cradled a small, cat-like figure. She halted directly in front of Cyrus, her piercing gaze seeming to look right through him.
If Cyrus had thought Leora's bestial aura was intimidating, it paled in comparison to this lady's presence. It was like comparing a candle to the sun. He stepped backward, clearing his throat nervously. With a delicate motion, she moved her hand beneath his chin, gently closing his mouth.
"Their reactions in front of me are all predictable," she murmured, her voice like honey. "Don't fret, darling. There is no need for shame."
Cyrus felt his body tremble slightly at her voice. A part of him wanted nothing more than to fall to his knees and cater to her every whim and desire. It was a disconcerting feeling, one he struggled to rationalize.
"I have fulfilled my duty precisely as you desired, Queen," Leora said, bowing deeply before brushing past the lady.
"When will you cease referring to me as queen?" the newcomer sighed, a hint of exasperation in her tone.
"No one will dare to address you as anything other than that, my Queen," another figure stepped forward, nearly shoving Cyrus aside in his haste to approach her. Cyrus lifted his head, ready to curse at the man, but the words died in his throat as he watched the scene unfold.
The man knelt before the Queen, reverently kissing her palm. She smiled at the gesture, an almost girlish blush coloring her cheeks. One after another, the others in the room followed suit, each paying homage to their queen in the same manner.
Cyrus stood to the side, unsure of what to make of the situation. Was this just some kind of ritual, or was this lady even more demanding than Leora? The dynamics at play here were complex, and he felt like an outsider looking in on a world he couldn't quite comprehend.
Once the others had finished their greetings, the Queen turned back to Cyrus, extending her hand towards him. All eyes in the room fell upon him, an invisible pressure emanating from their collective gaze. What have I gotten myself into? Cyrus wondered, feeling the weight of expectation pressing down on him.
Taking a deep breath to steady himself, Cyrus stepped forward. With as much grace as he could muster, he took the Queen's hand and pressed his lips to her palm. Only then did she take her seat, followed by the others sliding back into their chairs one after the other.
"Do you comprehend why you have been summoned here?" the Queen asked, her voice carrying easily across the room despite its soft tone.
Cyrus hesitated, uncertain of what was supposed to be the correct answer - if there even was one. "I am non-human," he said finally, the words sounding hollow even to his own ears.
The Queen nodded, her expression unreadable. "Your plea for assistance is duly noted," she said, "and time is of the essence."