The Cruel Horizon

Without warning, Eris slips her arm under Obinai's, guiding him gently forward. Her fingers brushing against his skin. His heart skips a beat, and for a moment, the world around him seems to slow down, the quiet sound of their footsteps on the dirt path the only thing he can focus on. Her presence, so close to him, makes everything else feel distant.

Eris doesn't seem to notice—or perhaps doesn't care. Her voice is soft, playful as she speaks again, breaking the silence. "You don't need to be so tense," she murmurs, her words wrapping around him like a soft caress. "I'm not going to bite."

Obinai chuckles nervously, trying to shake off the unfamiliar warmth that fills him. "Hard not to be," he replies, his voice betraying a hint of unease. "I didn't even hear you sneak up behind me."

Eris laughs, a sound light and carefree, and it sends a shiver down his spine. She pauses for a moment, then speaks again. "Maybe you didn't want to notice me." She lets out a small, coy smile as she watches him from the corner of her eye.

They continue walking, the path winding ahead of them, but the weight of Obinai's thoughts pulls at him. After a moment, Eris turns to him. "So… how did you end up here?" she asks.

Obinai's smile fades, his lips pressing together in a tight line as his chest tightens. He looks away. "I don't…" He struggles to find the words. "I don't know. I was about to be saved, and then…" His voice falters. The memories flood his mind, threatening to break through.

Before he can continue, Eris gently rubs her hand along his arm, the touch soft but grounding. "Shh," she murmurs, cutting him off. "It's gonna be okay. You don't have to tell me everything right now."

Obinai doesn't reply immediately, his breath shaky as he forces himself to focus on right now. They walk in silence for a while, the soft crunch of dirt beneath their feet the only sound between them.

The dirt path eventually gives way to cobblestone, and the ground feels firmer, smoother beneath them. The stones underfoot are worn smooth, evidence of countless years of use. As they walk, the path widens. Obinai's steps slow as they approach a grand gate looming ahead of them.

The gate itself is breathtaking—massive, intricate, and imposing. The metalwork gleams in the sunlight, forged into elaborate patterns of vines, leaves. The designs are...strange, but undeniably beautiful.

As they approach the grand gate, Obinai's senses are suddenly overwhelmed by the flurry of activity in front. The sounds of bustling movement, chatter, and the rhythmic clink of tools fill the air. He watches, eyes widening, as elves in various forms of attire move through the streets. Some wear simple tunics, others in more elaborate robes. But what catches his attention most are the creatures he's never seen before—short, stocky figures, almost human in shape, but too small and far more muscular.

Eris walks confidently toward the gates. Obinai, trying his best to keep up, notices her effortless grace.

As they reach the entrance, a guard with steps forward, blocking their path. His armor is striking. The metal gleams under the sun, reflecting a soft shimmer, and the engraved patterns that snake across the armor catch the light in a way that makes the entire piece seem alive. The guard stands tall, his posture unwavering, and his green eyes—sharp and alert—scan Eris and Obinai .

In a language that Obinai can't understand, the guard speaks, his voice respectful but firm, his eyes flicking to Eris with recognition. "Tiraemyn Edhel, lenn-sil?"

Eris tilts her head slightly, a knowing smile spreading across her lips as she nods. "Yes, I know this looks bad, Jamis," she says. "But he's a friend of mine." The words flow from her effortlessly, a gentle command that seems to ease the tension in the air.

The guard's expression softens, and with a respectful bow, he steps aside, allowing them to pass.

Obinai can't help but feel slightly out of place. His eyes flick nervously back to the guard and then to Eris, who continues. He hurries his pace, falling into step beside her, eager to put distance between himself and guard.

The kingdom of Eldoria sprawls out before him like something out of a dream, as if it were pulled straight from the pages of an ancient storybook. The streets are paved with weathered cobblestones. The buildings rise proudly on either side of the street, made of sturdy, weathered stone, their facades adorned with wooden beams. Roofs are covered with slate or wooden shingles, giving the city an organic, rustic beauty. As Obinai's gaze shifts to the horizon, he sees the peaks of towering spires in the distance, their pointed tips glinting in the sun, as if they themselves are reaching toward the sky.

As they walk deeper, the sounds of the city become more pronounced—voices raised in conversation, the clang of hammers on anvils, the calls of street vendors as they peddle their goods.

He notices the shops lining the streets, each one a miniature world of its own. The wooden signs hanging above the doors are adorned with elegant, looping script that he can't decipher, and the wares inside the shops range from rustic trinkets to finely crafted jewelry. Bakers stand in their open stalls, the warm smell of freshly baked bread and pastries filling the air. Blacksmiths hammer away at their anvils.

The marketplace is alive with color. Stalls are overflowing with fresh produce—vibrant fruits in reds, oranges, and greens—and fabrics that shimmer in the light, from thick, homespun linens to delicate silks that ripple like water in the breeze. Musicians strum lyres, their melodies weaving into the air, while dancers twirl in the middle of the street, their colorful clothes swaying in perfect sync with the rhythm of the music.

Eris moves through it all with ease. She's unbothered by the clamor, smiling at vendors as they greet her with nods or waves. Obinai can't help but be swept up in the vibrant energy, his eyes flicking from one thing to the next, trying to take it all in.

As they walk deeper into the market, a vendor calls out, offering a piece of fruit, and Eris pauses. "Would you like to try one?" she asks as she holds up a plump, shining berry, its surface a deep, rich purple.

Obinai hesitates, unsure, but something about her tone makes him smile. "I… sure," he says.

Eris hands him the fruit, her fingers brushing against his hand as she places it in his palm. Her gaze lingers on him for just a second longer than necessary. "It's sweet," she says softly, a playful gleam in her eye. "You might just like it."

...his stomach growls...

He takes the fruit, the vibrant color catching his eye, and bites into it. The taste is unlike anything he's had before, sweet and rich, filling his senses with warmth. As he chews, he looks up at her, noticing the way her eyes glint with amusement, but there's something else there too—something deeper, something that makes his chest tighten slightly.

"Good, right?" she asks with a small smile.

Obinai finishes chewing the last bite of the fruit, savoring the unexpected sweetness as it settles in his stomach. He lets out a small, appreciative murmur. "Mhm," he says absentmindedly, looking over at Eris.

But as his eyes move across the market, the colors and movement overwhelm him. Elves move gracefully through the crowd, their pointed ears catching the sunlight. They move with a fluid elegance, their flowing robes and fine fabrics almost gliding along with them. He notices others too. Again he sees these small, muscular beings with scrunched faces, their bodies rippling with power despite their short stature.

But then something catches his eye—an walks by towards the middle of the street. A humanoid figure, but with deep red skin that stands out from the crowd. Obinai stares for a moment. He swallows the last bite of fruit, the tangy sweetness still lingering on his tongue, and points toward the man. "What is that?" he asks, the question almost slipping out without thinking. A bit of purple fruit is smeared on the corner of his mouth.

Eris glances at him, and with a gentle smile, she places a hand on his arm to guide it down. "That man," she begins, her voice soft, "is a tiefling." She pulls a small napkin from her basket, dabbing the corner of his mouth gently.

Obinai's eyes widen in surprise, his voice a little sheepish. "Sorry... that was a bit impolite," he mutters, feeling slightly embarrassed as she wipes his mouth.

Eris just smiles and shakes her head. "It's fine," she says. "This place is new to you. You'll get used to it."

He nods quickly. The air is thick with the scents of fresh-baked bread, sizzling meats, and exotic spices. Each smell weaves into the next, forming an almost overwhelming tapestry of aromas. The cacophony of sounds—vendors calling out their wares, the clang of metal on metal from nearby blacksmiths, and the laughter of children running through the streets—creates a vibrant atmosphere.

As they walk deeper into the heart of Eldoria, Obinai can't help but express his awe at the scene unfolding before him. "This is fucking great," he says, his eyes wide, drinking in the life around him.

Eris laughs, a sound light and full of joy, her laughter like a melody. "You're not the first one to say that," she teases, glancing sideways at him.

But as they walk, Obinai begins to feel the eyes of the crowd on him. It's subtle at first—just the occasional glance, a curious look. But soon, it feels like every face is turned in his direction.

He tries to ignore it, but it becomes impossible. "Why are they staring at me?" Obinai asks, his voice low but laced with discomfort. His body tenses, and he glances sideways at Eris.

Eris stops walking, then turns to face him, her eyes softening. She takes a slow breath, looking around them for a moment before answering. "First, your clothes." She gestures to his tattered hospital gown, now stained and worn. "And... you're human." A little sadness creeps in her gaze, but her voice remains steady. "I'll explain why that's a big deal, but for now, we can't be out here for too long."

Obinai opens his mouth to ask more, but before he can, Eris grabs his hand gently. "Come on!" she exclaims, as she tugs him forward with surprising strength. The movement is swift, and before he knows it, they're weaving through the crowded market, slipping between stalls and dodging vendors.

They run together, her laughter trailing behind them like a shared secret. The crowd parts as they move, the energy of the marketplace surrounding them, but they feel like they're moving in their own little world. The sounds of the market fade into the background, replaced by the rhythmic pounding of their footsteps. Obinai finds himself almost caught up in the exhilaration, the sudden speed and energy making him forget...if only for a moment.

They reach the center of the kingdom, and the atmosphere shifts. The air feels heavier here, the grandeur of the space evident as they approach another set of gates, even more imposing than the first. These gates are tall, this time their edged with intricate engravings of mythical creatures, twisting vines, and scenes of what appears to be battles long past. The metalwork glints in the sunlight.

As they approach, two guards step forward, their armor gleaming in the daylight. The intricate engravings on their armor match the patterns on the gate itself, and the elves move with a silent, practiced efficiency that makes Obinai's throat tighten. One of the guards steps forward, his posture straight. He speaks to Eris in their native language, his tone polite but firm.

"Eris, virathel narumin esse guestorin?"

Eris doesn't flinch, keeping her hand firmly in Obinai's. She responds with a slight roll of her eyes. "Jeez, Ruwan. He's a dear friend of mine. He just needs to clean up, that's all." She waves her free hand dismissively.

The guard hesitates for a moment, eyes flicking between her and Obinai, but then he steps aside with a reluctant bow. "Cernak, Princesa Eris," he says, his voice now softer, and they pass through the gates.

With a soft smile, Eris leans closer to Obinai, her voice dropping to a quieter tone. "This is the palace," she says, her pride unmistakable. She gestures grandly toward the imposing structure ahead of them. "What do you think?"

Obinai halts, his gaze locking on the scene before him. The ground beneath their feet changes to soft and plush, meticulously manicured lawn that stretches out before them like a green ocean. Vibrant flower beds burst with colors—rich reds, purples, and golds—lining the path in delicate, symmetrical patterns. Neatly trimmed hedges frame the landscape.

In the heart of the lawn stands a magnificent fountain, its wide basin made of gleaming white stone that catches the sunlight, giving it a faint glow. The fountain is intricately carved with unknown scenes—floral motifs interwoven with representations of the kingdom's flora and fauna, each detail almost alive. Water cascades gently from the basin, creating a soft murmur that blends with distant calls of birds.

But it's the palace itself that truly takes his breath away. The structure looms large, an architectural marvel made from the same white stone as the fountain. The palace stretches out across the skyline like a mighty guardian, its massive wings sweeping outward as if to embrace the sky itself. Soaring spires reach toward the heavens, casting long, elegant shadows across the grounds.

The façade is adorned with gold and blue embellishments that catch the light with each movement of the wind. The banners—deep blue with intricate gold stitching—flutter proudly from the battlements, while gold filigree lines the archways and windows, adding opulence to the already grand structure.

Every window and balcony is framed with delicate stonework. The roof is tiled in shimmering blue, contrasting beautifully with the bright white walls, reflecting the expanse of the sky above.

As Obinai takes in the scene, his eyes drift to the entrance—two massive, dark wooden doors. They are engraved with scenes that appear to be from Eldorian history, tales of legendary battles, and figures from a time long past. The gold inlays on the doors sparkle in the sunlight, depicting battles with creatures and monsters, along with some strange figures Obinai can't quite identify.

Flanking the doors are towering statues of famous Eldorian heroes and heroines, their stone faces solemn and proud. They stand tall and imposing, each sculpted with exceptional care, their faces frozen in expressions of determination and strength. Yet, as Obinai looks closer, something disturbs him. Most of the figures are fighting—swords drawn, arrows nocked—standing over what appear to be fallen humans. Their forms are twisted in agony, faces contorted in pain.

Obinai feels a subtle unease as his gaze shifts between the statues. But he isn't given time to dwell on it as Eris, still by his side, continues walking toward the entrance.

Obinai finally speaks, his voice breathless, almost in awe. "Wow," he murmurs. His eyes stay wide as they trace the outlines of the palace, drinking in every detail. "How...?"

Eris glances over at him. Her lips curl into a teasing smile. "It's a secret," she says.

Before he can press further, she suddenly breaks into a playful jog. "Hurry up!" she calls over her shoulder.

Obinai blinks, stunned for a moment, before quickly catching up with her. He follows her through the palace gates, his footsteps echoing against the stone pathway they get onto from the lawn. As they move through the entrance.

The path ahead is wide, with tall marble pillars standing like sentinels. The palace looms larger with each step. The air smells different here—clean, rich with the scent of fresh flowers and the faint, earthy fragrance of the palace's carefully tended grounds.

...they approach the door...