[ IP ] Sanctuary

It was a balmy evening on the twelfth day of Aethos and the city of Ulturia had drifted into a comfortable lull following the morning's festivities. The sun drifted low in the sky, piercing the clouds, its rays painting a world of brilliant colors. In the dusk light, the sand-colored metropolis shimmered like a golden island cresting above the deep purple of the sea. Half empty jugs of wine littered the streets, rocking gently back and forth as the salty breeze off the ocean rolled over them. Over on Borriger's Alley, one could find an unusual rarity not sold in any of the kingdom's best trading houses: silence. The merchants had shut their doors for the evening, sleeping off their drink until the party began again. Indeed, the city was the quietest it had ever been, though if you had opened your window and turned your ears toward the Temple District, you might just have been able to pick up the quick pitter-patter of feet dashing up stone steps... 
 
 Eyra ran, struggling to keep the long trails of her red festival dress above her feet. Her hair had already fallen out of its intricate weave, and a long, curly, front lock whipped back in forth in front of her face as she climbed the stairs to the Sky Table. It was almost sundown. She could see the golden fire begin to melt into the ocean. *Faster! * 
 
 One after another, she climbed the stairs. Eyra stumbled over a chipped step and tore her dress, but pushed on, finishing the last few on all fours. With a heave she lunged through one of the arches of the ante-chamber and collapsed onto the cool marble floor. She panted, gasping for air. To her left, the sun continued to melt into the sea, its final rays glinting off the water. She had made it. Barely. 
 
 `` You are cutting it close, my dear.'' A raspy whisper spoke from the shadows beyond. `` Even I, the great Zerton, can not undo some spells.'' 
 
 `` There was... a... a...'' Eyra tried to catch her breath. `` A complication.'' 
 
 Zerton's low chuckle echoed throughout the antechamber. `` It's a complicated plan. I expected that. You're the one with all the risk. No need to explain to me.'' 
 
 Zerton emerged from the darkness, his white robes billowing in the breeze. His withered fingers stroked his grey, bushy eyebrows absentmindedly as he stared off into the sunset. With a quick flick of his hand he produced a flask from his robe and handed it to Eyra. She accepted it, but eyed it uncertainly. 
 
 `` It's water, my dear. No more potions for you for a long time.'' 
 
 Eyra unscrewed the cap, sniffed it, and then took a long pull. Satisfied, she eased back into a more comfortable sit. 
 
 `` So what was the complication?'' Zerton crooned, continuing to stare out to sea. 
 
 `` There's *another* girl this time.'' 
 
 `` So? I'm sure you're prettier than her. That's what the spell is for.'' 
 
 `` That's what I thought, but she is pretty. No. Not just pretty, she's gorgeous. The king did n't even send a glance my way.'' Eyra sighed. `` At least he did n't look at Zahra, either.'' 
 
 `` Is this new girl one of the king's other consorts?'' Zerton mused. 
 
 `` No. I've never seen her before. She's not from Ultria. She arrived this morning and has been attracting the attentions of everyone. Even the King.'' Eyra huffed. `` I thought you said this spell would make me the most desirable woman in the city?! Is the part about sundown wrong too?'' 
 
 `` You can test it yourself, if you like.'' Zerton held up a hand and gestured beyond the arches of the antechamber. Eyra said nothing, but continued to glare at the back of his head. 
 
 After a minute, Zerton made a low humming sound. 
 
 `` What is it?'' Eyra asked impatiently. 
 
 `` This other girl... was she wearing anything... strange?'' 
 
 Eyra thought for a moment. `` Well, she did have a beautiful ruby necklace. It was framed with some kind of black-'' 
 
 `` Meat. Horse meat.'' 
 
 Eyra frowned. `` No, not *meat*. I was going to say-'' 
 
 `` You were going to say metal. It's maglamite. She ca n't have horse meat.'' 
 
 A pause. 
 
 `` What do you mean she ca n't have horse meat?'' Eyra asked, her temper rising. 
 
 `` Did you see her eat any meat during the festivities today?'' 
 
 `` Well, no... but I do n't think that means that she-'' 
 
 `` It's maglamite.'' 
 
 `` You said that. What does that even mean?'' Eyra asked exasperatedly. 
 
 `` It means the same thing to her that you ca n't be outside of the Sky Table after sundown.'' Zerton explained slowly, his impatience beginning to show. 
 
 `` You mean-'' 
 
 `` Exactly. Get her to eat some meat. I bet it was Gorgolar... that old trickster. Always one for the jewelry charms. I thought he had died years ago...'' Zerton laughed to himself. 
 
 Eyra sat back and took another gulp of water from the flask. Another competitor? It had been bad enough when Zahra had showed up to try to woo the king. She had been **so** close when that temptress had hooked her coils into his flesh. It had been so easy for her to accomplish in a day what Eyra had worked on for a week. Too easy. 
 
 `` Zerton?'' Eyra asked sweetly. `` How many types of love charms are there?'' 
 
 Zerton turned finally to face her, still absentmindedly fidgeting with his eyebrow. `` Hmm? Love charms? There are many... too many to count. Why?'' 
 
 `` Do any of them involve tattooing?'' Eyra inquired, thinking of the spindly blue ink that twisted up Zahra's too-perfect arms. 
 
 `` Of course! But how did you know-'' Zerton's eyes lit up. `` Another charmer?!'' 
 
 Eyra looked angrily away as Zerton bent over, his laugh echoing throughout the empty temple chamber and into the city night. After a few minutes, he straightened himself back up as the last few chuckles escaped. 
 
 `` I'm sorry, my dear.'' he said, wiping away a tear from his eye. `` But this is truly a story for the ages. This king does n't know what's hitting him.'' 
 
 `` Zerton.'' Eyra said sternly. `` Is there any way to stop Zahra?'' 
 
 `` Tattoos, you mean?'' 
 
 `` Yes. Tattoos.'' 
 
 `` That's a tough one. You'll need to make her cry.'' 
 
 `` With pleasure.'' Eyra said, a cold smile forming on her face. `` Thank you, Zerton. This is for you. I'll need another day of the spell, obviously.'' She slid him a bag of coins across the slick marble. 
 
 `` Obviously.'' Zerton echoed. `` As you wish.'' 
 
 He pulled another flask from his robes. This one was smaller, and was delicately embroidered with small gems. The stopper was an intricately carved wooden eye. 
 
 `` Are you sure you would n't like to let the last dose run its course? You've been doing a lot of dashing back and forth lately.'' Zerton offered. 
 
 `` Just keep making the potions.'' Eyra said as she quaffed the flask's contents and winced. `` Any idea on where I could find some horse meat?'' 
 
 `` The butcher's would be a good start.'' Zerton offered as he retreated back into the darkness of the temple. `` Good luck my dear. I think you'll need it.'' 
 
 Eyra huffed and retreated into the night, managing the stairs a bit more carefully on the way down. The cool evening breeze felt good against her skin, and she felt she had luck on her side now. No temptresses would steal the king from her this time. He would be hers, and no-one else's. Then, before long, all of Ultria would be in her grasp. She smiled and quickened her pace. 
 
 In the Sky Table, Zerton kicked open one of the many chests in his apothecary, dropping the latest bag of gold into a much larger pile. He eased into his chair and lit his pipe, the dull red glow illuminating the dark laboratory. With a flick of his hand he lit two candles, and then reached into a drawer for his ink and quill. 
 
 Putting his pen to his parchment he began to write: 
 
 *Dear Sirs* 
 
 *I am writing to inform you that your spells should expire under certain rules. You are both receiving a copy of this letter so that we are all equally informed. Gorgolar, your lady is to resist any encounter with horse meat. I am certain that should be easy. Perthudair, I am afraid your lady is in for some violence. However, she is not to cry, or her fantastic spell will disappear. I am sorry about that one. * 
 
 *And, for the Gods' sake, will your ladies let mine return before sundown? She nearly did not make it today and I almost had to come up with an excuse. * 
 
 *Yours in health, * 
 *Zerton* 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 

