Tenebrosia exited through the smaller doors at the sides of the Conjuriation Parliament's highest floor. There were four, and Tenebrosia stood on the top. This level overlooks the entire city. The architect of this metropolis is truly magnificent: there were towering edifices surrounding the Parliament– each containing houses, offices, shops, and furthermore. With the blend of human architect and human nature, there were valleys within the city that anchored houses releasing white, thin smoke from their chimneys, while some from their machines. There were also platforms strongly riveted to the sides of some of the towering structures with pillars, furthermore supporting them below. Additionally, there were cords all across the city, from the layered floors all across the city to the streets themselves below, where small, copper-colored automatic railcars– powered by magical liquid pumps– would hang onto these thick, metal threads and take Windstrew's citizens to which designated stop they wished to be dropped off at. Whether it be on the upper floors or the streets down below, these vehicles– called cab saloons– are a convenient way for one to travel across the city than riding a taximeter horse-carriage on the streets below.
Fortunately enough, there was one cab saloon near where Tenebrosia was standing. Moreover, there's one approaching now as indicated by the small bell of the stop ringing and its accompanied light glowing and darkening each second. Tenebrosia tilted her head slightly before walking there with a strut as her boots clanked each step on the stone tiles of the Parliament's fourth level, her cyan-boas that hung from the bangles clamped to her wrists graciously fluttered to the afternoon's wind. She looked down at the streets below– her eyes gave the slightest awe, but no sound from her lips to give a reaction. The ground below was no more than eight hundred feet from where she was standing.
Seconds later, the cab saloon finally reached the stop. The small gate that blocked the small platform leading to the carriage soon opened as a young woman, along with her husband, exited the cab saloon, passing by the taller Tenebrosia. As they left, Tenebrosia walked with grace as she stepped on the metal platform leading to the open doors of the small vehicle. She took a seat amongst other citizens and anthropomorphic critters that sat on the brown seats. Inside the carriage were posters of the king and queen, with framed advertisements of new products being sold across the city. At the back of the carriage was always the daily news; nothing interesting or noteworthy this time.
Tenebrosia is to visit an old friend, and that old friend is located at the far western side of the city. The ride itself is somewhere she estimated to take half an hour, considering the stops. She looked at the window, her elbow resting upon the window frame as she curled her gloved hands into a fist, leaning her head onto it.
Deep in thought, Tenebrosia closed her eyes, and reminiscent memories came lingering to her clouded mind– a contrast to what she physically shows on the outside.
...
"You dead-raising witches! You plagued our lands with your decay magic!" a farmer cried out, his anger bubbling as he threatened a younger Tenebrosia– no more than ten, who wore a ragged cloak bearing the symbol of the Maidens– with his pitchfork, his feet crunching the fertile soil with his threatening stance. His wife is beside him, sharing the same sentiment, and their infant child cries within the arms of its mother. "You drove 'way business! Look at what you've all done!" He pointed at the rotted crops, flies buzzing around them.
"Simmer down, you insolent fools! You accuse of what you believe, not of confirmation!" A slim, tall, hooded figure unveiled her snood– Ragena. "If the sweet testimonies of the Cardinals claimed the end times are upon us with no evidence, would you believe that too?!" cried the woman with charcoal hair, flowing into the wind. Her sleeves tucked, and her pantaloon swaying gently with the morning wind, serenading it.
Silence came onto the farmer's tongue, and Ragena nudged the smaller Tenebrosia, who was only standing as tall as the former's hip. Tenebrosia was staring so apathetically at her accusers before she snapped from her indifferent gaze and moved along the gravel path. The outskirts of the country of Galamona are harsher for the Maidens due to their traditionalist views.
Moments passed, and the two reached a large house located in front of a waterfall's crest at the top of a cliff, and its river below stretched across several miles, which led to the kingdom of Windstrew, its lights and steam power being gazed from here, with the directions of the river stretching miles more. The house was a refuge for the Maidens; a marginalized group feared by a society despite their magicka being more than just necromancy or hellish forces. They, too, were the overseers of one of the two fundamental parts of magic, along with their Cardinal counterparts. However, they lack the respect that the Cardinals received due to social stigma.
Ragena knocked on the door, and quickly, another Maiden opened the door. "Sister Ragena, you've arrived," she bowed her head in sisterly respect, then glanced at little Tenebrosia before looking back at Ragena. "Get the little one with the others." Ragena nodded back and gently pushed Tenebrosia to get inside. As the two entered the house, the Maiden who opened the door for them closed it behind them. Within the house was a domain lit by candles, their flames yellow and orange, giving the interiors a homey hue. The home was clean, and the foyer alone was filled with magical technology to observe the Sombre magic.
Ragena led Tenebrosia to the home's attic, where they accommodate other little girls and boys with one Maiden reading them stories, as well as feeding them jam boule– a puff pastry containing sweet berry jam. "Sister Malika, please do take care of this little one. Poor thing requires a lull from outside," Ragena gently lifted Tenebrosia with magic, a dark-purple aura wrapped around her before she was sat with the other kiddiewinks. She was one of the older ones, the oldest being no more than twelve years old.
"Do keep them busy, would you, dear?" Ragena smiled at Malika, with the latter replying: "Of course, sister." The attic door closed, and Ragena soon left.
...
Meanwhile, Ragena met with more of her Maiden sisters at the makeshift gathering table in the dining room to discuss events that had transpired over the last few months. The long table gave enough room to the ten Maidens, excluding Malika, to gather on. "You can't keep embracing lost orphans under your wing, Ragena," one of the Maidens, Taralon, said. "She's justified with that, we cannot hide these children under our shadows. These people will suspect we're using them for ritualistic purposes, given our fractured reputation. They strike us as the very demons themselves– not as humans– you know that."
A sense of gravity fell upon the room. Taralon continued: "However, the Conjuration Parliament of Windstew sent us a scroll through an avios. Telling us one of us would have an opportunity to sit on the Director of the Sombre Arts– a position that has been empty for decades now. Given how little we've migrated here from Eradicia–" Taralon was sharply interrupted by the graceful fluttering of Ragena's cloak, which she placed firmly onto the standing rack."And risk a riot from the citizens of Windstrew down past the rivers of Galamona just to get this position. Hades and Elysium know how damaged our image is. The last director went missing, as the history books say, may the gods themselves have mercy on how and why she mysteriously vanished." Taralon slammed one of her palms on the table, and the other Maidens watched them dispute, daring not to intervene. "Ragena, listen! This could be the chance to restore the history of the Sombre! Reclaim the pride of us Maidens! We've been suppressed for thousands of years because of society's fear of our dark arcanes!" Taralon calmed herself, wiping the sweat off her forehead and mending her hair to appear proper. "Long ago, annals had us standing shoulder to shoulder with the Cardinals, overseeing darkness along with light. Then, people feared because we summoned demons, raised the dead, manipulated the darkness– and the Cardinals? Cowardly, those fools didn't even defend our honor in fear of retaliation, thinking they're insane for defending folks like us– and look at us! Degrading as a clan!" Silence befell. The Maidens gasped, and Ragena looked at Talaron– considering the choice. Her gray-green hue of eyes locked with Talaron's blue ones, behind her iris was obvious frustration.
The silence was so deafening and long that the owls' fluttering of feathers and hoots, along with the slow sway of the leaves from the trees, and the soft, crashing sounds of the waterfall outside, filled that void of sound.
"Would you dare let us vanish?! Our name in vain?! Consider your choices, Ragena. This could be the sole hope we Maidens sought, do not brush this off as nothing but a suggestion." Talaron sighed and backed herself off the table, having her eyes read the scroll again.
"I'd take it into consideration." That phrase alone caused Talaron to freeze, and she looked back up to Ragena's gaze. "As the eldest of the Maidens here, I'd take this risk. For the name of the Sombre." This caused Talaron to listen further; the other Maidens within the room joined with Talaron's intrigue in the situation. "My sisters, we've been fractured as a clan for too long. I suppose you are right, Taralon. For if there are no overseers of darkness, then who gets to balance the odds with those who oversee the light? Who gets to remember our name?" Ragena sighed, looking at the table, before looking back up again.
"I care for all, and I care for you, my sisters. And I will ensure your names are remembered in respect and not of fear." Morale was then raised. Sister Malika then appeared holding cups of freshly brewed tea for the ten of them. As each grabbed one, Ragena asked, "Malika, how're the little ones?" "Tucked asleep," Malika responded as she sipped her tea. "How long have you been waiting here, anyway?" Ragena asked Malika. However, the other Maidens were conversing with each other about the future with the Parliament. "Not long after you placed the new girl in the attic. I was picking out our tea leaves in the garden, then I prepared the tea in the kitchen."
Then she paused, "How did you meet that recent girl, Tenebrosia?– that is her name when I asked her." She sipped again. "Poor thing got raided by scowl bandits. Her parents were viciously battered and robbed from their traveling merchant carriage. Their horse was shot dead, for leather, I assume. Fortunately, by the gods, I've come across their path and flamed those criminals– no more than nine of them." Ragena paused and sipped again as she looked down at the brown tea, then she spoke. "The little one cried on my arms, and so I took her under my wing and gave her the cloak for warmth. We traveled the road for many hours." She sipped again before putting her regal cup down. "I apologize if she is more apathetic than the rest. Give the little one more patience. I'm sure she'd come around." Malika smiled at Ragena's words. "Don't fret about it.
Little do they know, Tenebrosia was sitting on top of the staircase, hiding between the wooden handrails. Listening to the Maidens. This caused her heart to bloom slightly from her sadness, and she saw Ragena as a guardian– almost like a second mother. She'd vowed to make her proud someday.
...
The cab saloon doors opened, and now the present snapped open Tenebrosia's eyes. When she realized it, she was at her stop. There was no other person within the saloon but herself. And so, she then stood up, smirked, and flipped her hair before exiting with grace.
The west side of Windstrew was extremely busy. The moment she left the cab saloon, she was at a riveted platform way above the ground. This, too, overlooked the city, much like the Parliament's building. The platform she was on was riveted to the massive walls of Windstrew, walls that protected the city. Taximeter horse carriages were mounted by noblewomen and their husbands, and little critters roaming around.
"Fish for sale!" "Pies for just three coins! Get 'em while they're puffy and hot!" "Jewels! Jewels! Please do examine my precious jewels!" Several Paragos offered their best wares to potential customers: the passing crowd. Their tucked shops, little buildings the shape of squares– maximalist and their products all on display both at the back and front, displayed for any possible consumers. Indeed, this part of the city is one of the busiest locations of Windstrew, a hub of Paragos merchants, chefs, bakers, artisans, jewelers, and more to sell their products for coins.
–
SUZUNA'S BIOLOGY BOOK
[Paragos]
These little critters are absolutely adorable! Oh– look at their chubby, little bodies! I want to just... squish them! (Scribble that.) These short bipedal creatures are no more than three-and-a-half feet tall! Taller than an avios! The biggest these creatures can get is barely above four feet, still cute!
The Paragos (or Paragosi for plural!) have a caniform-like body standing at their itty-bitty-bipedal-paws! They have their cute, pudgy stomachs and small patterns near their eyes are colored in either black and white, and the main color of their fur can come in white, gray, red, or orange.
They can indeed speak! And they are very intelligent with their dexterity. They can even cook, craft, and even so much as to trade! Among us humans and fellow anthromorphs alike, they are considered to be our "companion" as a society. Most people who work hard or want a new family member as a close friend, like me, live with one of these little ones!
Most of their family species integrated with ours, while some of those who decided not to still made their tribes and shelters! My team and I even see them frequently in our journeys on studying how the environment and its critters work! We also made contact with these little tribal folks, classifying cute critters like them as 'Paramosi,' Paragosi who wished to live in the wild. We gave them food, and they gave us healing herbs! Nice!
Though it's still being studied how they came to be in our evolutionary tree, just know that I'm researching with mine every single day. She's very adorable!"
–
Tenebrosia passed the crowd, the Paragos vendors still yelling at bypassing customers about their new products. Tenebrosia's tall figure makes her stand out even in the sea of a busy part of the city. Her heeled boots, still with their golden ornaments tightly wrapped around them, clinked at each gracious step she took.
At the very end of the platform, there was a small but multi-floor clump of small shops and houses. Despite its size, it was less busy, and it looked down on the riveted platform's street. Tenebrosia took the stairs, passing merchants discussing with buyers and children playing with their kites, men and women helping together with their laundry. Tenebrosia finally reached her old friend's shop, her intended destination. It was a weaponsmith shop tucked tightly between houses, with a lone sit in front of the shop's small, wooden desk.
"How is that commission I've asked you to do, Khanih? I do hope you've done wonders with those demon shards I gave you last week.
A bearded, old Paragos, gray, with black patterns on his stomach and eyes, and a scar on his right eye, wearing a dusted apron, came out of a small door at the right side of the wall. His walls were filled with extraordinary weapons, unconventional yet cohesive, and absurd– but Tenebrosia knows Khanih was no ordinary weaponsmith. He alone can deliver a combination of a cannon and a sword, and still make it work as a force of destruction. "Ye, ye, I hear ye. It was no mere request... that would be three bags of coins, Tenebrosia." The grumpy Paragos jumped to a platform matching Tenebrosia's height, resting his elbows on the table while he looked at her with a sarcastic disinterest. But then, the two shared a laugh."Oh, spare me. Don't empty my coins–" "As if that can happen." Khanih interrupted.
And the two shared a jovial laugh again.