It had been days since they began their journey from Akropol. The travel was hard, and the terrain grew rough and desolate. What was lush forests and sparse overgrown fields cleared into massive sprawling foothills and steppes, overgrown grasses and beat-down dirt being all the two found in their journeying. Æðelric felt lost, though he hardly vocalized it to Wenke, he thought often that perhaps his companion wasn't so well versed in travel after all, his mind growing worried the further they drew from anything vaguely resembling hospitable land. The winds swept the ground upon which they traveled, fearsome gusts which rushed past and made the man wrap himself tightly in his cloak. Long before the smaller feline had drawn the rough-hewn woolen blanket from his travel bag, clinging tightly to it to retain what little warmth he could in the face of such harsh weather.
As the days wore on, so too did the weather, storms intermittently besetting them, their camps growing increasingly rugged and shabby. The further they walked, the more the king-to-be complained to himself, finally vocalizing that inner turmoil of thoughts, of anxieties that they were well and truly lost, that as soon as they should run out of food they should be long dead. "Have you the faintest of our terminus, Wenke?" The man huffed, panting headily. He found himself constantly uncomfortable, his clothes having grown sweaty and dirty in spite of the biting cold about them simply from the raw intense act of travel. The smaller cat's ears twitched, his fiery red hair almost alight in the wind, whipping and swaying about like the biting snaps of a fire. He nodded as his sturdy legs pushed him onward, looking back to Æðelric, "Aye, that I have. I understand it appears we've gone in circles, that we've strayed hither and thither, but you've need for trust, good King..."
The larger man huffed, his knees aching with the strain of so many hours of walking, their pace feeling to hisself almost untenable, that they'd sooner perish from exhaustion than actually find somewhere he was sure. He grunted again as they came to the apex of another long meandering slope, able to gaze out over the many more that were to come, steppe appearing to fan out as far as the eye could see. He squinted in the face of the heavy wind and light drizzle, hair dancing across his forehead as he turned to Wenke, still his bubbly self... yet even here, he could see signs of fatigue. The feline's smile was less garish than usual, more an acknowledging kindness, a slight twist of the lips. His soft fiery hair was wind-dashed, whipping about his head, jewelry jingling about his face as he stood and looked up at the man. Ever so slightly he could see an occasional shudder running up the smaller cat, the cold clearly running him ragged, his battered blanket growing tighter seemingly with every moment they stood, his feet restlessly playing at each other and the ground, as though to warm themselves with pure friction.
"You look tired, Wenke. I'm tired. We've been walking for probably over a week, our stocks of food and water are no doubt nearing a low point. How are we going to manage this...?" The king spoke up. His voice was smaller than before, less accusatory. Something about the gentle look of his companion had eased his nerves, and much of the tension within his body was removed, yet now he found himself replaced with a deep want to protect themselves, and to ensure the two would survive wherever this journey would take them. The smaller cat sighed, his eyes drifting off gently into the distance; When Æðelric tried to follow their target, he saw hisself only looking far far afield. Beyond many a hill, in a direction covered by cloud and incoming storm. The feline drew his gaze back upon the larger man, that weaker smile drawing wider, "After we've come all this way, after you've mended your wounds, and healed your ailments, and grown strong, powerful, and strapping again-" The king blushed at these words, brow furrowing as he puffed out his cheeks, Wenke continuing, "After all this, you've want to sit, and to find comfort and ease, while your lands are reaped, and your birthright is swallowed whole, and they who know not the truth of your survival mourn your death? Verily, my king-" His voice grew playful at the words "my king", savoring the embarrassment it gave the larger man, "- I am indeed tired."
"My exhaustion is great, my feet ache so, my body is chilled to the bone, I've grown dull to the continued ration we've needed to allot ourselves of dried crackers and of aging herbs. My eyes have grown weary to the continued growing hills, the vast infinite rolling ocean of green and grey. Even when skies are blue doth my mind wander. Yet, I continue to walk. I've that feeling deep inside, and so I walk. Mayhaps it shall be, Æðelric, my friend, that we shan't find ourselves with great reward from this journey, but we must persevere. Even in our weakness, may we find the strength to go onward." As the king stood, shocked by the sudden fiery and passionate words flowing from the small cat's lips, he gained yet a further surprise. He found himself, within moments, grasped by Wenke, their dainty arms and makeshift cowl wrapped about his midsection, clinging tightly upon him. His purr was gentle and soft, a low rumble hardly able to be felt, but present enough to make his heartbeat pace. His feet remained firmly planted, his body stone still for a moment, before, leaning forth, he set his chin atop the cat's head, grasping round him and leaning tightly into this embrace, tears gliding down his own cheeks for the first time in what felt like an eternity.
He'd forgotten what this felt like, this raw and emotional closeness, yet all at once it cascaded and overwhelmed him, sweeping and crashing into the large feline as though it were the winds that beset them; And in that moment Æðelric felt warmer, more at home, and safer than he had even at his home hearth. They stood together like that for long, wordless and tall over the land about them, before, at last, they separated and continued forward. The man kept a much better pace with his companion, the two walking side by side. Sometimes the larger cat felt as though Wenke were purposefully slowing hisself to keep astride with his own speed, but he didn't dwell upon it long. Still yet, their travel was long and arduous, their journey carrying them for days over the same dull and desolate hills and valleys, the natural splendor undeniable, yet the inhospitably just as much so. It were as though the world itself were cursing their journey, making heavy their feet and harsh the winds... yet the travels were not as they had been only a few days before. A rhythm began to make itself clear to the young king, where there was once a foggy mist of murky questions grew instead a raw comprehension of things to be.
He felt within his body itself an eminence, a powerful pull dragging him in a direction, a direction familiar to his eyes as one which he'd many a time seen Wenke track, always seeming to lead down to this point, no matter how turned around he grew, no matter how many times he read and reread the stars, always still this way onward; And, for once, it was elucidated to him, made sense of. The feeling ebbed after some time, but it flowed back in before long, growing stronger, something he more easily could intake and utilize. He at once understood why his odd tribal friend never could in exact words describe it. Verily, it wasn't dissimilar from an energy, but it was something rawer, more primal. Something he felt from within, and yet simultaneously from without, as though an internal compass was pointing for him a trajectory, and guiding him. He could walk with the motion of the world as it were, following an internal process which once was alien to him, yet now grew normal, especially when he finally could process it through familiar senses he'd felt long before. Indeed, he'd had similar energies about himself and the world around him.
He recalled how in the days after his father had died the castle grew darker in spite of the shining of he sun, remembering hisself that there felt almost to be a foreboding, this raw and intense feeling which pierced through him, growing the closer he drew to his coronation. The warmth and comfort that the keep used to represent all at once was dashed away, and this time from much more than simply grieving and mourning, there was something more intense at play, all of which came to a culmination that faithful day. The galloping of hooves was strong beneath him, his royal steed a powerful courser which had carried him on many a hunt and falconry expeditions, as well as all throughout the kingdom of his father to oversee the lands which he would one day rule. Yet as he rode, his ear flicked, picking up the distinct sound of more hooves arriving behind hisself. As he looked over his shoulder, there he saw them, his twin siblings, bows drawn. Before he could utter a cry they let loose, their shots firing true. He heard the wind whistling as the arrows flew before terminating in that dull wet sickening crunch as they found his horse, and it found only a few more steps before he felt the loyal beast go limp, the man shrieking as he was sent careening over a cliff.
That dark energy twisted and fought within his stomach as life flashed before his eyes, memories careening through his overwhelmed mind as he fell from his saddle, his body quickly connecting with the side of the sharp decline. In spite of the quickness of it all, time lazily flowed past, it feeling like an eternity before that first impact upon the cliff. A heavy thud rung through his body and bones, vibrations that made him feel ill as his back smashed into the earth. He felt his body leave the face of the cliff a moment longer, not a moment passed before another heavy crack rang out as this time he'd managed to roll to his front and side, crashing into a mix of dying wood, stones, and more compacted dirt. Impact after impact rang through his body, his bones feeling as though they were vibrating like the bells of a church, cuts dug into his form and bruises beat upon hisself, until finally a last heavy strike sent him into blackness. He still knows not how long he continued to fall down that cliff, everything too blurry and too overwhelming to properly track such a thing, and indeed he knew not for how much time it took for Wenke to find him, slumped limply besides his horse.
The beautiful courser laid dead, given the mercy of a quick demise, a sacrifice taken for the sake of killing him, but there still remained signs of life within the large figure of the young king-to-be. Wenke helped him long ago to fill in the blanks of what had happened when he was found. How his body was a heap, twisted, bloodied, and battered. That day he'd worn a gentle white garb, by the time Wenke had seen it, parts of the cloth almost appeared more crimson than anything else. The small cat was shocked to find the figure alive, the remnants of what had happened painting to him a story of a terrible accident, one which surely would kill most men. What felt so unbelievable to Æðelric then was made illuminated and real now, how Wenke had found the man not by sound, but by feeling. Drawn toward something he went, picking his herbs and drawing off from the land, so that, shockingly, the small feline was quite well prepared by the time he'd found the poor nearly murdered king. He'd been lucky in one way, not only had he nearly been felled in so abundant a place as one of the many royal hunting grounds, but so too had he nearly found his demise with a creek quite close. It took not long for the small feline to begin at his work, already well enough acquainted with his tribe's medicine to well take care of the larger cat. Before long the man found himself dazed and growing closer to consciousness, near-entirely undressed save for his braies. Upon his head, though he could hardly make the effort to reach up and feel it, he felt a cool wet cloth.
The world about hisself was blurred and confounding, and yet in spite of this overwhelming feeling, there was a strange warm radiance spreading over his body. A feeling of safety, and of comfort, as though there was nothing truly to fear, the horrible dread which once racked his mind and form now a distant memory, and before long he could finally feel and see the source of it. As his hazy vision grew sharp again, he saw that over him sat a dainty man, far shorter than he, gently tending to his wounds. Tattered strips of fabric lay strewn about the stones of a small creek which ran beside the two, Æðelric's body propped slightly upright by way of a boulder. He gently breathed, watching as the wet cloth in the gentle hands of this stranger was applied to all variety of cuts and bruises about his body, blood gently dripping over the ground which he laid. He could recall from there the continued calming aura which spread off Wenke as he began to speak, his words soothing him as though he were a kit again, listening to his mother coo to him as she tended to the scrapes and bumps of a day out roughhousing with his brother and sister, the twins always rough when at play. The stinging of the washcloth touching to his wounds, and of the strange poultices and washed herbs which he laid within the makeshift bandages he wrapped the king's wounds with receded far far away, and he felt all at once at ease.
Indeed, these were the sensations, feelings, and thoughts which he ruminated not on before, but which danced through his mind as he grew intelligent to the energy about him, to the raw and intense power of the world and as he followed that pull alongside his companion, his friend for whom he grew very very thankful. A few more days travel beset the two before, at last, they spotted a change in the constant monotony of the steppe. There, laid out far enough that one need squint to see, the two could see smoke drifting from small cream-colored shapes in the distance. "I... I can't believe my eyes! It mustn't be! Be that not apparition, doth my eyes not deceive me, Wenke? Look! O'er yonder, by all which reign from above, it's true! We followed through with it, we followed through with it and... and we've made it!" The large man spoke, bellowing in a voice so cheery and boisterous that Wenke could help not but smile, bouncing softly, his mood perking up all at once, that smile returning to its former wide grin. "Yes! Yes I can see it! I told you, Æðelric! I told you we weren't running amok without reason, look too, at how many there are! There must be a whole village there!" The excited smaller feline responded, practically rocketing forward as the two quickened their pace, excitedly chattering the whole way. As they grew even closer the forms of the village's dwellings grew apparent, strange circular structures, not entirely dissimilar from the pavilions the king-to-be could recall from tours about the various war and mercenary camps in years bygone, but still different. Their shape was sturdier, less a drapery of cloth, and more a firm wrapping.
"I've seen not a structure of this sort, doth this be a permanent settlement?" the man wondered aloud, his companion pondering for a moment before he spoke up, reminiscing in a gentle smooth tone, "No, I'd not say so. In fact, I'd say this is a temporary encampment, these homes, while alien, remind me somewhat of my own home..." He looked wistfully onward, slowing his pace a little, the larger cat following his stride accordingly. "From what I recall, you've not seen your tribe in a long, long time, be that so?" The feline's query soon came, Wenke nodding gently, "Aye, indeed... Yet their memory still remains, no matter how long ago it was that I started my travels I still remember... We lived similarly, I'd imagine these homes are similar." He paused for a moment as he navigated around a small excessive incline in the hill, clambering over a few rocks, looking back as Æðelric followed. "They're sturdier than a tent, but not made to lay forever as the houses at Akropol, or indeed those of your own homeland, "my liege"..." The feline snickered, sticking his tongue out as the larger cat puffed his cheeks out, crossing his arms for a moment before drawing into a chuckle, shaking his head, "Oh Wenke, I just can't believe it... They almost feel as a mirage, like whilst we drift beneath one hill and crest another they'll all of a sudden dissipate and be gone before our very eyes..." The short cat's ears twitched, his tail flicking as he giggled, purring out, "Well, I would suppose if this tribe is too like my own, they assuredly could make off by the time we ever come close!" The larger man shaking his head again, lips now pressed into a firm smile as he gave a playful shove at his blanket-covered shoulder. "Aye, be that so then I'll surely have your pelt for bringing us on so arduous a journey for nothing!" He smirked, the smaller cat shoving back as they continued on in great spirits.
It wasn't long before the two drifted near enough to the settlement to properly take in its sights, the wind seeming to calm to a breeze as they drew closer, as though nature itself were confirming that this verily was the place they were after. They could see figures dotted about the odd structures, walking to-and-fro, tending to daily tasks. Here they'd spy a lady and some men filling jugs with water collected from cisterns and barrels, chatting back and forth. Æðelric and Wenke both snickered at the likelihood that these people were no doubt talking of much juicy local gossip. There they'd spot small trading stalls built up in front of homes, or people porting about various goods. The makeshift streets, mainly comprising of foot-pressed paths branching off from natural packed-dirt seemed relatively low in population, though they could spot many a figure dotting the distance, even seeing some returning toward town with wheelbarrows, packed loads, and often picks in hand. The more they looked, the more this place felt all at once familiar and alien. "The women dress not dissimilarly from the men!" Æðelric noticed with great surprise, earning a soft snort from Wenke, who'd speak back, "Aye, and indeed they do similar work too! This isn't too dissimilar from my home... much stranger to me is that." The small feline pointed to the carts and miners, tail flicking, "It isn't often you see metallurgy in spots alike this." He finished, the large man blushing a little that his friend's observation was not only more interesting than his, but a tad less rude.
It didn't take long for their approach to be noticed, figures growing within earshot to the two men, speaking in a strange yet gentle and beautiful tongue, one which flowed and drifted through the air, not dissimilarly from how the wind carried itself about. Certainly for Wenke it wasn't a tongue he'd ever heard, both while with his tribe and throughout his travels alone. "I've a feeling we're soon to figure that mystery, Wenke..." Æðelric concluded as he spotted a man approaching, his eyes clearly fixed upon the two. His dress was as fascinating as that of the rest of the peoples living within the town, a thick overcoat laying over most his body, its front affixed aside by buttons and his waist wrapped tightly by a red sash, a red sash just like all the rest of the tribes wore. Both Wenke and Æðelric took interest in this particular element of dress, the two glancing to each other, down to the smaller cat's own sash, then back to those of the people around them. Even stranger though was the metallic cylinders upon the man's breast, the stranger, and seemingly all others in the community, bearing a dagger as well, decorated richly with engravings and jewels. Almost everybody here looked to be a king, even those returning from the mines. Before long the man called out, his speech deep and gently accented, his hands splaying out as he made his introduction.
"Greetings, travelers!" the man bellowed, his lips drawn into a wide toothy grin. "Allow me to welcome you two to our small community, Alaa Majalat. My name is Bashir bin Nida al-Majalat, but you may simply call me Bashir, my friends. Might I call the two of you friends?" His smile was genuine and soft, a certain twinkle in the man's eyes which made the two feel safe and not at all as though they were stepping into somewhere alien or frightening. Wenke softly nodded, and Æðelric spoke up, "Aye, that we would take no offense to. Mine upmost apologies for our intrusion, and though this may sound quite absurd, we've walked from rather quite afar, and are well... simply amazed to have found you in the first place." Bashir's eyes widened, he looked incredulous for a moment, but he found not reason to doubt the two, especially considering their condition. They looked wind-swept, ragged, as though they'd gone through a great gauntlet just to arrive, the story of their journey told all at once through their visage alone. The man nodded, "And it's very well too that you have found us, we're not quite so easy to nail down, not nearly as much as our capitol!" He chuckled, the word making the two felines before him look up in deeper interest, Æðelric's ear twitching, "Aye, be you part of a kingdom then, Bashir?" The man tilted his head for a moment, seemingly doing a mental calculus, as if chewing on the words, he paused a second longer before responding, shaking his head, "Not exactly. We like to call ourselves Alkumuna, we're less a strict kingdom with a settled leader so much as a loose confederation of peoples, all of whom agree upon what should be done to make our lands prosperous, and to make our lives fair and better for each other."
The large noble feline's eyes drew wide, the concept mildly foreign to him. He could vaguely recall similar concepts spoken of in a few historic lessons, especially those of foreign peasant revolts, but he'd never heard precisely of a system such as this, even among the tribals. Wenke, on the other hand, grew even more invested, his brow furrowing as he looked serious for a moment before a dazzling sparkle took over his eyes, a look of sheer amazement running over his face. "Your dress and homes, they felt familiar to me and all of a sudden it's clear to me why! You... You must be Komuna!" Before he could go on, Bashir grinned ear to ear, a look of recognition in his own eyes as he nodded, "My grandfather told me of people who dressed similar to you. While your companion here, little feline, clothes himself in a manner unfamiliar to me, I felt something familiar about you. I think our peoples have crossed paths, many a moon's cycle ago. Please, may I see your hand?" He queried, the suddenly shy and embarrassed feline nodding, drawing his dainty and gently paw from his makeshift shawl, the man rotating it and nodding, humming, "Verily so, my grandfather spoke exactly of these markings upon the back of your hand. How incredible it shall be, then, that we shall cross paths again." He smiled. Æðelric was amazed, not only by the sheer almost impossibility that long ago these cultures had met, but at the man's presence itself. Bashir, while shorter than he, was a figure of sheer awe, a dazzling and warm aura flowing from him, his tongue smooth and reassuring, his dress fascinating, and indeed the way he treated them in spite of just meeting them being with nothing but utmost respect. Indeed, thought the king to himself, this was where he was meant to find hisself.
"Indeed, my village's grandparents and great grandparents, some of them told stories of your people, though not many... They'd been on their travels when they met you I'd imagine, many moons before I was even conceived... How incredible..." The smaller feline purred, himself at once put at ease by this familiar presence. "Verily, but my friends, you must have great need to go through such lengths to seek us out, no?" His head tilted to the side inquisitively, suddenly betraying his own great curiosity about the two bedraggled travelers. "Well... I am King-to-be Prince Æðelric von und zu Seltebia, and this here is my friend Wenke." And, continuing the large noble began to spin an old yarn, a tale which was told him many moons ago, when he himself was but only a kitten. He spoke of that old ancestor of his, and of the many enemies to their newly established kingdom, telling how they found themselves at once invaded by a mass of enemies far greater than they'd had defenses. He spoke warmly as he recounted this ancestor traveling far afield, how they'd met a great and mysterious tribe, and that they'd aided him in repelling the invaders and solidifying the rule of his noble lineage in Seltebia. He seemed almost breathless at times, catching himself up in his own tale, the story known throughout his home, treated as half mythology and half reality, his brain more so beginning to treat it as fact by the moment. Bashir hung onto every word of his, eyes wide and electrified. All at once he smiled again, nodding excitedly, occasionally catching himself in his mannerisms and slowing down, composing himself. "How fascinating indeed, and I will tell you this now, friend. My people, we've a similar tale to yours indeed... I think especially the elders will have great interest in a conversation with you, if they may?" He questioned, head tilted. Wenke's eyes brightened up, excited at the chance to meet and speak with more people, to learn more. In all his travels he'd never seen anything like this, his ears constantly devouring the details of their conversation while his eyes were on a swivel, observing all manner of customs strange and familiar, and catching all sorts of intriguing sights.
Children rushing to parents, people chatting and strolling about, even a young man showing another how to use some strange mechanism, the other watching on with similar intent to Wenke, who hisself had no clue what the two were even looking at. The smaller cat was practically jumping with excitement as his noble friend nodded, smiling, "That would be magnificent, Bashir." The man quickly turned, waving them to follow at his back, "Let us be off then, it's not a long walk from here, you'll find our town to be quite simple in layout!" He smiled. They tailed behind the man, both taking in the world around them, at the strange decor of the interesting homes about them, of the magnificently interesting array of objects dotting the outsides of them, the wrapped bundles, the barrels of metal rods, the village beginning to grow abuzz with the hum of nightlife, the sun having began to crest beneath the mountains since their arrival, people chattering, eating, and laughing amongst themselves. The young king heard at least similar language to that of these people, it being not dissimilar from the speech of the few visiting nobility of the kingdoms residing in the particularly fertile crest along the rivers that cut through the Tarkhiri desert. He couldn't tell much more about it, and before long his mind would be devoid of thinking on it as they came upon a particularly fascinating set of structures.
There laid a few of the buildings in a semi-circle, with one far larger rested at the middle, various draped cloths overhead providing cover from the sun during day, shiny beads and wooden pegs swaying in the wind, gently chiming as the soft sound of music and speech drifted from the central building. The two traveling felines sighed as their feet rested upon the carpet beneath them, Bashir nodding, "I've need to speak for a moment with these elders before you meet them, however I'll send out for somebody to help the two of you to refresh yourselves, my friends." He smiled, the two returning the expression, looking to each other. "Well, how's this for a royal welcome?" Wenke grinned, "What was that about "von und Seltebia" or whatnot? I've never heard your full name Æðelric! So regal, so refined!" The larger cat started to flush and chuckle as the smaller feline made all manner of expressions, bowing and clasping his hands together, setting them to his cheek, "Goodness, do you take that intonation to the ladies too, Æðelric? So imposing and dashing, it's miraculous you've not a queen as of yet!" He laughed, the big man finally pushing him back playfully, shaking his head, "Quit it you! Such ignoble conduct when we're about to have a chance meeting as this! Hey!" He called out all of a sudden as the small cat roughhoused with him a small bit, gently shoving back and clamoring about him, only earning more warm laughs, the two growing still and flushed as there emerged from the flap of the large tent-like structure a man and a women, themselves snickering a little at the sight, the look of recognition and whimsy in their eyes immediately sending the noble and the tribal cat into laughter, shaking their heads as they walked forth. Though they shared not a language, it was clear enough to Æðelric what they wanted to do, though Wenke for his part was more confused, moments away from stepping into one of the warm steaming tubs of water before the larger cat stayed him by putting a hand at his chest, gently pushing him back.
"Oh Wenke, for all your talk of worldliness you know, this is one of the more humorous faux pas I've seen! Be it not clear they're here to help us wash? If we're to have a proper meeting, I'd reckon we ought not to smell like a cross between a whorehouse and a farmer's sty, wouldn't you agree, dear friend?" He playfully sneered, snickering. The smaller cat crossed his arms, ears flattening a little for a moment as he blushed, soon returning to his usual bubbly giggles. It was then that, by gentle touch, the people directed them, helping them to kneel and remove whatever extraneous items they had on their person, laying them aside upon a sheet rolled out by another person who'd emerged from the tent. They all were less densely dressed than the people about town, losing those sturdy coats for sheer tunics, some of the men and women clad in sheer headscarves made of a lightly colored linen, a similar tone to the rest of their clothes. Wenke flushed a little as they helped to remove his jewelry and even piercings, and Æðelric found his own surprise as they removed not only his sword and waistbelt, but also his shoes, cape, and leggings. Indeed before long the two found themselves nearly disrobed, clad only in undergarments. Before long they were guided gently to kneel before the basins, the water smelling warmly of rose and oils, the scent soothing both the feline's nerves, reminding the noble somewhat of the fine baths he'd take at home, and making the tribal snicker as he thought back to the few times he'd seen bathhouses in Seltebia and its surrounding environs. They dipped their hands deep within the water, rubbing at them as their presumed attendants dipped washcloths into the water, giving them a moment before guiding their hands up near to the surface to gently rub with the smooth linen cloths, a purr beginning gently to arise from Æðelric, which made Wenke laugh. "That good, ah?" The smaller feline snickered, nudging the larger, "Hey! It's been long since I've had such fine treatment, mayhaps to you a cool stream is fine enough for bathing, but for me this is a far better treat!" He blushed, simply making the short cat giggle more.
Before long they were directed onto low cushions set behind them by that third person, hearing more speech rise up from within the cloth walls of the tent as their feet were softly guided into the basin, even Wenke purring somewhat as he felt the warm waters. "See‽ I told you!" He huffed, to which the feline sighed, nodding, "Alright fine, I guess it does feel quite alright..." The larger cat puffed up his cheeks for a moment before shaking his head, snickering softly. "Thank you, Wenke." The cat's eyes went wide for a second, washcloths gently running along the two of them as they were tended to, working at their upper body and their underarms, water cascading and rippling down as the wind played with the jewels, metals, and wooden beads hung about the ceiling of the overhang, music lulling out from the tent as the air grew ever more aromatic with the warmed essential oil and flower scented waters beneath them. "Oh... oh?" the feline stammered, the king looking to him, reaching and setting a hand at his soft shoulder, gripping it firmly, "Thank you for getting me here. Without you, and I truly mean this, I'm not getting emotional just... I'd surely be a dead man. I'd be lost in a world beyond my understanding, one which you've seen it fit to help me to comprehend. And, truly, above all else... Thank you for being my friend..." He hung on those last words, smiling softly to the smaller cat, the feline's heart racing at the words, this deep kindness combined with the sensations of being so gently cleaned overwhelming him all at once with such a raw and intense positivity that he could nearly find himself crying, barely managing to hold back as he smiled back, "Of course, Æðelric. I know it's strange, but I care deeply for you, and I want for you to prosper, so thank you Æðelric, thank you for being my friend too." The two sighed, leaning back and relaxing as their bathing was complete.
The two who had been helping them clean disappeared into the tent, that third attendant bringing forth fragrance, dripping it over the chests and hair of the two men, their lips parting in an encouraging smile as they motioned for them to rub it in. The smaller cat's gentle hands made quick work of the oils, smiling at the gentle scent and looking over to the larger noble. The man found it harder to do so, a bit embarrassed as he nodded in thanks before looking to his companion, making a mocking look to him. "What!" The king called out, the smaller cat snickering, "Oh nothing, it's just... you're a funny man, Æðelric." He said, looking away, the third attendant walking off, this absence of sight allowing the larger man the chance to knead the pleasant fragrance into his fur. It was then that those two who'd initially brought out the fragrance returned, nodding for them to rise, which they quickly did. In their hands they held clean linens, nodding for the cats to raise their arms. Before long they were dressed back up, the two attendants carrying the basins to where they'd left their previous clothes and beginning to wash them. "Can't say I've quite ever had treatment like this..." The short feline gasped, "Truth be told, myself either... Sure, perhaps within mine own castle, but that was... unique to say the lease." The larger man snickered, the two chattering for a moment before at last Bashir pushed the tent's flap aside, stepping out. "Ah, there we are my friends! You look refreshed indeed. Care to join the elders and I for a meal then?" He tilted his head, smiling. The two cats nodded, stepping forward and following as he led them inside, the sight all at once incredible. The interior was richly decorated with blankets, cushions, rugs, and lamps, a few figures they recognized as miners returning earlier now sat, just as richly decorated as they themselves had been, some sharing in food, others in drink, and others yet crowding around pipes and laughing as they dined.
The feeling within the room was incredibly gentle and communal, even among the raucous laughter and back-and-forth of some of the rowdier people, Bashir gently leading the two cats around the large group of people within what they came to realize was some form of feasting tent, their guide and greeter as it were gently pulling another more dense looking tent flap aside and ushering them in. When they stepped within the room they found it a lot more low-key, geometric patterns of warm candle and oil lamp light spattered about the room, incense softly burning from a few burners as they were met by a group of older men and women, dressed in a mix of clothes similar to that of those outside and those inside the tent, all reclined on a series of cushions and couches, a feast of food and drink laid out before them. The elders were garishly decorated, sporting plenty of jewelry and fine silks, clothes woven with beautiful patterns all throughout, even those dressed in the simpler tunic undergarments worn by some of the other locals. One of the older women, a lady clad similarly to Bashir sporting a garish headdress with jewelry about her crown ushered them over with a wave, smiling at their curious eyes as she spoke up, "Many thanks Bashir! See to it you go and get yourself fed now boy, your mother would simply be furious if I let you grow ill overworking yourself again!" The man's face reddened, piping up, "I'm no kitten any longer, you know this Rashida!" The woman smirked, lifting a pointed well-manicured brow, "But you are hungry, are you not?" As if on cue Bashir's stomach growled, the room bursting into laughter, even the two nervous felines who'd just been led in snickering a little, their guide flushing as he raised a finger as if to speak before laughing to himself, shaking his head as he walked out, allowing the tent flap to drop behind himself.
The older felines composed themselves, the lady, who they'd gathered was named Rashida, speaking up once again, "Now... you two must be the travelers our lovely "little" Bashir spoke of! Even dressed in our linens, your awkward way of poking about immediately betrayed that much to us!" She grinned, a few of the elders around her snickering as the two cats stood, Wenke gently kicking at the ground as the older woman held her arms out, "Oh I'm just nagging the two of you, please come now! Have a seat and help yourselves, we've been greatly excited for this moment!" An older man whose eyes had been frosted over by age nodded along with the others, the man clad in a longer form of the usual coat, giving it the effect of a robe as he raised a bony hand, "Indeed we have!" He rasped, his voice croaking and aged, "There's been talk for days, omen of the arrival of visitors!" Another piped up, calling out, "The energies within the lands, they are shifting!" This man leaned forward, an overweight and jolly man with a thick mustache and beautiful outgrown and curled hair draped over his face, smiling, "The lands grow more energetic, there's a certain raw kineticism we can feel... the world is excited, our dear new friends!" Wenke spoke up, blushing at all this attention, even Æðelric himself looking taken aback at all this, "Really...?" He stammered, wringing his hands, "Excited for what exactly, elders? If it may be quite alright to call you so..." He flushed. The group laughed and nodded, Rashida giving response, "My boys, that is quite alright... but understand..." Her voice remained gentle and playful, but her tone serious, trying to make it very clear the gravity of what was happening, "History is to be made today."
Before long the two finally sit before the group, Æðelric helping himself gently to some of the foods before hisself, humming at the richly spiced flavors of the delightful dishes which were laid out, occasionally sipping upon the clear clean water, its cool temperature refreshing him deeply. Indeed, his little friend began too to devour of their offerings, catching himself a bit embarrassed in how ravenously he ate, but he truly was hungry and quite sick of their prior diet of dried bread and whatever old vegetation he could spare from his pouch. Another elder spoke as they ate, the noble pausing to listen while Wenke couldn't help but continue eating, occasionally looking up innocently to the snicker of one of the elders as they watched him eat. The elder who spoke was gaunt and incredibly old, his fur having long since dulled, dressed only in a soft white linen gown, her hair tied back as she began, her voice sweet as honey, deep and smooth, hardly dampened by age, "Now, understand yes, none among us, even those of us moments from departing from this journey onto the next, are aged enough to have met your ancestor, young Æðelric. However, we well know the story you told. In fact, this story is not simply a fairy tale as many no doubt remember it to be, as happens all too often with so aged a history." She shook her head softly, Wenke's ears flicking at her every word, the larger cat leaning forward himself, intently listening to her every word as she continued, "But, my dear boy, you see it is far more than that, it is truth, a long and storied truth. It was an event which took us from an already strong tribe into our current prosperity, a story of cooperation that is much more than legend. Please, let us regale you, and you too, our sweet and ever-so-hungry Wenke." Her last words earned chuckles from those seated about the cushions, the shorter feline's ears lowering a little as he blushed gently.
"Long, long, long ago. Many moon cycles before you, I, or even our elders long before us were born, there had been a young upstart by the name of Crafft, Crafft von und zu Seltebia-" The king-to-be's ears shot up as he spoke up, accidentally interrupting, "My ancestor! All the peoples, noble and common alike, still call him "der Große", the Great!" He soon caught himself in his speech, blushing as he quieted down, the woman smiled knowingly and nodding, "Indeed, the man known not only for his large stature, but indeed too for his rule. Well, my dear boys, you see his kingdom was in grave danger. Seltebia was a far cry from what you see now, a collection of earthen and wooden structures, a few stoneworks, and a loose set of holdings strewn about a far smaller amount of the mountain valleys you no doubt know quite well, and that I sense even your tribal friend is indeed familiar with. This kingdom, you see, was beset upon from all sides by enemies, some with names you'd no doubt recognize, names such as Winttal, Tercultira, perhaps even the Jagdreiss. Indeed there too are many names you'd not recognize. These lands saw the domineering power which Seltebia could hold, the riches that might be produced from its mines, the fertile grounds of its farms, the clever knowledge of its craftsmen. They knew that if they were to eradicate this kingdom to be, that they could claim great riches from it. And so, having already lost many allies in its foundation, Seltebia was alone against a confederation of enemy kingdoms, viceroyalties, and principalities." Her words were electrifying, the mention of these kingdoms shooting sparks and shivers up the noble's spine, Wenke himself having long since paused his eating to listen on in awe, his tail softly swatting side to side beside him as his ears twitched, most the elder's attention drawn upon the lady who so well knew the tale.
"See, Crafft, your great ancestor, he hisself was wisened to the ways of old. Where others thumbed their noses at the tribals, the shamans and the magi, he instead listened intently, taking each and every word and holding onto it, learning more of the world than these contemporaries of his. He remembered mention of a mighty tribe from these nomads, whom he'd always seen to it to give court unto, and to treat as he would any other noble family. As the ides of war came over his kingdom, he sought out one of these tribes, and from this tribe he was led by a tribal, a tribal who was worldly, who was well traveled, who had spent far longer without his home, than within. This man took him far, until at long last, he and his procession of guards came at last to the ancestors of our tribe, within our great and mighty capitol, then called Abu Hadid, now called Abu Maedin. The city was far smaller then as it was now. This tribal, he served as an intermediary to your ancestor, and he spoke with a great and mighty man, one who preceded our ways as they are now. He was a fair man, a man who believed in his people, and who wanted to see them prosper, the man who helped found our way of life as it is now, all are equals. I suppose it would be possible to say that our two greats converged then, indeed!" She snickered, the other elders laughing as the two felines waited and watched with bated breath, the woman swigging from a cup before continuing. "This man's name was Adil Abu Alshaeb, and when your ancestor met him he was taken immediately by his composure and his prowess. He was a sharp tactician, utilizing unheard of tactics, and beyond all else he'd something most, if not all, did not have. Cannons and mortars." The noble cat gasped. Could it be true that in an age of spearmen and chariots that indeed this tribe did have gunpowder? And yet, here lay the proof, the surviving generations of this great tribe, himself immediately dazzled and in awe at them, listening as the elder lady went on.
"And so to the negotiations table they went, and seeing the opportunity to truly give birth to his people, and to let them live freely, Adil Abu Alshaeb agreed to help Crafft der Große as you call him, in exchange that his people might receive whatever reward they might wish for. It'd been a long shot, and in fact the initial idea was floated first by Crafft, but seeing in it opportunity, instead of going the safe route of avoiding this conflict and continuing as semi-pastoral semi-nomads, our great ancestral leader took up yours on his offer, and so they set forth on the war path. Immediately horsemen rode from the capitol to the surrounding villages and nomads, summoning all men and women to the call of battle. We were smaller and in some respects weaker then than others, certainly far more so than we are now... however we utilized cunning tactics, our great leader and his generals inventing novel new tactics, ones which led our skirmishers to victory after victory... of course, our cannons and mortars greatly helped as well... And it was through this cunning of tactics and of our novel innovations that we'd outsmarted a great foe, helped your ancestor to fell them, and routed them away from Seltebia, enforcing surrender upon them, and indeed gaining for Seltebia the remaining entirety of the valley and mountain range that now surrounds your home, my dear boy." The lady paused for a moment, looking about the room, seeing all eyes now transfixed upon her, smiling warmly as she drew another sip from her chalice, her soft motherly gaze landing once amore upon the young king-to-be. "Well, as you know, indeed reward had been promised unto our people, and so reward they took. The story you know continues to be somewhat true in that relatively little was asked for, but of great and lost import is one detail. Bashir told me what you said, that all that had been asked for was new herds, and this is only half true. Indeed, we asked for and were granted a great many heads of sheep and a great many cattle, however, what is less spoken of was the other half of that reward..."
"Simply all Adil Abu Alshaeb asked for beyond this greater herd was knowledge and training. He wanted for his metallurgists to know of finer techniques, for while our bronze was powerful, their steel was indeed strong itself. So too had he asked for the assistance of jewelers, and of other skilled craftsmen, all of which was received and passed generation to generation. This exchange of knowledge was great, while Seltebia would eventually develop cannons and mortars, as indeed most kingdoms no doubt have, within a few generations our people, blessed with the gift of knowledge, and with a great many young craftspeople trained under the finest men of your lands, had developed a handcannon. It was rough-hewn at first, basic, but in due time it was perfected, and now..." The lady reached behind herself, drawing up one of the strange long poles Wenke had spied earlier elsewhere in the camp and holding it out to Æðelric, who took it in hand with great awe, "Now we have within ourselves no doubt the world's finest and only weapons of their kind. A mighty piece of equipment, better yet than even the crossbows of the Tarkhiri desert, better than the longbows of the Winttal, and yes, far more powerful than the spear. This is what has given our people the strength to go on, even within our unique way of life..." The noble lifted the back of the object, it was a carved piece of wood, not dissimilar from the stock of a crossbow, though far better shaped to the body of a person. Upon its back was hammered a metal plate, and throughout its front was laid rings, likely to squeeze the wood down to the strangely hollow metal shaft atop it. At its right side was a plate and a strange series of levers, one lifting to a recessed pan, and another able to be cocked back, and again further back, seeming in some manner attached to the lever at the bottom of the strange thing, the lever which could be cocked sporting some form of clear hole straight through. He lifted it into the air, putting it to its shoulder and gazing down the shaft to the bead at the end. He was shocked by how intuitive the thing was, feeling hisself already growing an understanding of it, even without knowledge even of what it were called, gasping as it hit him that this was a cannon on an incredibly small scale, on an infantry scale.
The elders sat silently, a clear signal for Æðelric to at last speak, Wenke at his side gazing up with a mix of amazement at the strange shaft before hisself, but also with amusement at the manner with which the larger feline held and twisted it, like a child gaining a new toy, finding his curiosity almost cute. He smiled up at him as the man looked forward to the elders, holding the device back out to the woman, who took it and set it back behind her. "When I was riding on the eve of my coronation, upon a traditional great hunt, my sister and brother, twins, attempted at my life. They let loose arrows and felled my horse, leaving me off a cliff to die. If it weren't for Wenke, my dear friend here, I'd have died." The smaller cat flushed a little as all eyes drew to him, nods and curious glances scanning the feline, no doubt many of the elders not having taken someone so young as he to be quite so skilled a physician. "Verily so, I found him bloodied, I know not what pointed me to him, but I followed it..." the short man squeaked, blushing still as the elders nodded, returning their attention to the noble, who continued his speech, voice booming and passionate. "I... I am rightful heir to the throne! My life has been attempted upon by mine own blood, made kinslayers! It is with great certainty that I can say a great many within the kingdom must be mourning my death, all while my siblings destroy it. Please, I must beseech you for your help once again. Seltebia needs your help once amore, yet this time our enemies are not from without, but from within!" His voice is fiery and intense, the flame of the lamps glimmering in his eyes as he stands to speak, body poised and intense, releasing all the strain from his constant thoughts of this great strife, and the elders nod. Rashida at last spoke once amore, "Please, let us speak amongst each other for a moment, dear boys." before turning to the elders, all beginning immediately to speak excitedly in their local tongue. The two cats exchanged nervous glances to each other, Æðelric's breath pitched and intense, before they finally looked back to him. "Æðelric, boy." The older man with a mustache spoke, "Show to our eldest lady, she who told you the tale, your signet, and make promise unto our people to give unto us the same kindness which your ancestor gave unto us, to answer to our strongest need, and we shall give unto you our sworn word of defense, to place you back upon the throne." The strong young man nodded stoically, his signet being the only piece of jewelry that had not been removed by their attendants, the feline stepping forth and showing to the elder woman the ring.
She gasped audibly in shock, smiling as she clasped his wrist, leaning down and putting it to herself for a moment before releasing it, looking up and nodding, to which the cat finally spoke up, "I, Æðelric von und zu Seltebia, promise that when those usurpers have been loosed from the throne, and when my birthright is rightfully returned, that unto your fair tribe I shall extend whatever be'est thine most treasured desires, to give great aid to your people, just as you are to give to mine. If I am to fail thee then let it forever besmirch my family name." Wenke noticed a short man at the corner of the room writing fervently upon a scroll of paper, bringing it along to the large strapping noble cat, looking up to him. Gently he poured wax about the bottom of the letter, written in an unrecognizable script that looked akin to the most gorgeous of cursive, holding it up to Æðelric, "Then press yon ring o'er the wax, noble king, so that all in the lands may be summoned here at once to form a warband, that we might give aid unto thee." Spoke up the short man, his face aged and rugged. Without a moment of hesitation the young king pressed his signet onto the wax, feeling the still-warm substance radiate heat over his fingers, watching as immediately the small man set forth out from the tent, a ruckus arising outside as Rashida looked to the two men, nodding, "Be it so, dears. We've set off a dispatch of horses to the capitol city, worry not Æðelric, our steeds are some of the fastest and most fine creatures, before long you shall see to it that an army has amassed on these hills, and so too shall you see that we will march behind you." The elders nodded in agreement, and the noble took a kneel in thanks, at last sitting beside Wenke, who looked to him. He looked serious, giving that intense brooding expression he recalled from so many days ago, a fire returning within his friend, the flaming biting licks of chance, of the possibility of reaching out and grasping at what should not be possible, at taking a great chance for what you feel is right.
This has been an incredibly long time coming, like over a month coming. I am really thankful to have a community backing me like y'all who will give me the chance and support to do something like this, it means a ton to me and it's made me absurdly happy and helped a lot with the stress of making this piece come to reality. It has all sort of finally come together into something I can actually be proud of and that brings me great joy, and I'm so happy for that. Thank you to everybody who waited and who kept rooting for me along the way, you guys are so absurdly awesome, and hopefully you all really enjoyed this piece, I know I had a blast of a time working on it, especially doing research for little details I wanted to scatter about the piece and in doing the writing. I haven't done a ton of SFW writing as of recent, but it seriously is a powerful art that I really greatly enjoy, there's a few scenes throughout this story I feel really proud of.
What this has really taught me is that I should study up on my lighting theory, that or just next time follow a method of background painting that makes it easier to render shdfhgdsh -- Lastly, I might edit this story some (changing phrasings, reworking spots, etc.) if I feel the need, but generally I think this is the finished version of this piece. Considering how exhausted this one made me, I've no clue how I'm going to even attempt doing the next part of this with my idea of how it should look, but who knows, maybe I'll have learned some more arts techniques that'll help, we'll see. Anywho, tomorrow I'll be getting the monthly piece sketched out for July if I don't do it tonight, Also raffle will be held same as per usual, with an announcement on Friday.
But for now,
Here's some MCR (yes, seriously)
Cheers~!