Chapter 8: Chapter 7 – Formality has its uses

"One of the greatest mysteries of the world is the subject of human cultures, or rather, how many different ones there are. Every other enlightened race showed a far greater degree of cultural unity in retrospect." -Angmar Eisenbard, scholar and historian, on a lecture of cultures around the world.

The Prancing Bard deserved its reputation as the best inn in town, Cal thought. Since she took the offered free stay, she also indirectly implied that the apology was accepted, which likely had already reached the governor's ear in Port Serda by now, which should have helped the man breathe easier at least.

 

The food served in-house was of excellent quality, though they failed to elicit an epiphany like Helga's special stew did, but it was the soft, downy mattress that really pleased her. Yesterday night she literally fell asleep within moments when she laid down on the bed, so comfortable it was.

 

She had spent the past day and a half all over Hoststadt, busy with supplies she figured would come in handy in the near future, as well as how she sampled the wares of the many streetside food stalls present enthusiastically. Originally she had planned to leave town after a day, but the invitation from the governor changed her plans, and right now she was in her room, as she checked the contents of her pendant for some more "proper" clothing to wear.

 

A closer look at all the things Xain packed inside the pendant led her to a rather richly decorated wooden container that she had not checked before, relatively thin, and rectangular in shape. She brought it out of the storage and opened it, and found three sets of formal court clothing, all dyed in the deep blue color only worn by either the royal family or those they owe a life-debt to.

 

Of course that brat packed her some clothes that befitted her"station".

 

Cal sighed, and took one of the neatly folded sets of clothing in hand and changed into it. The whole ensemble was made of Sea Arachnid silk, a fabric created from secretions of a spider-like sea monster that were ranched on some islands for their silk, and one of the archipelago's best exports. The silk glided smoothly on her skin, yet she knew the fabric was so tough it would easily have turned away most blades - a practical reason why the imperial court ministers were so fond of it, for their formal clothing had foiled assassination attempts quite a few times in history.

 

The trousers were extremely loose, with the lower end nearly twice as wide as the upper end. Five deep pleats were at the front and two pleats were at the back of each leg, while strips of fabric around the waist were to be tied to provide a comfortable fit.

On top of it went the tunic. The one she received ended above her knees, with slits on either side that started from the waist and no sleeves - a variant of the formal wear worn by military officials in the empire. Civil officials have ankle-length ones with long sleeves that ended halfway down their forearms.

 

A vest of black Ocean Wyrm leather with golden embroidery was then worn on top of the tunic, the embroidery on the left breast the Al-Shan equivalent of medals she has heard other kingdoms use to award feats of arms, while on the right breast was embroidered her name and rank in flowing imperial script.

 

Then she clasped a belt made from the same leather tightly around her waist, the large belt buckle made of platinum and engraved with the imperial crest, two sharks that chased each other's tails inside a ring made of a Leviathan which ate its own tail.

 

It was the head covering that truly made her glad that Xain gave her a military version of the court dress instead of a civilian one, for the formal head covering for civilian ministers consisted of a long, thin piece of silk that would be wound around their hair into a tight, compact headwear. Military officials get away with a much simpler one, a simple, triangular piece of embroidered patterned silk worn much like how a sailor would wear a bandanna.

 

The brat even had the foresight to include an ornately engraved spearhead meant to be attached to the end of her braid, as well as a pair of machetes with heavily decorated handles and sheaths, but on closer inspections were perfectly functional weapons - a distinction the majority of ceremonial weapons failed horribly on.

 

Not that she ever went anywhere unarmed anyway, not with the existence of storage artifacts, but the thought counts.

 

The Governor was prudent enough and sent a carriage to pick her up, so she took up on that offer and leisurely watched the streets it went by as it brought her to the governor's mansion.

 

The "dinner" itself was more like a garden banquet, set in the estate's large, thriving garden, with magical illumination that chased away the dusk, and a buffet table set in the middle of the garden. Servants catered to the whims of the guests, while the guests either mingled in groups or had some more private conversations between themselves.

 

When she got out of the carriage, the same steward that she met in the gatehouse the day before came to welcome her, as he bowed with a flourish, while by the entrance to the garden, another servant dressed in the livery of the estate audibly tapped a staff to the tiles, and loudly announced her entrance.

 

"Presenting! The Dame Grand Marshall, Archmagus Celeysria Ambervale, of the Al-Shan Empire!"

 

Needless to say, the announcement caused quite a few eyes to turn her way, some widened as they laid eyes on the scars on her arms and face. Most at least seemed content to keep to themselves, as only two individuals made to approach her.

 

One of the two is a middle-aged human female, if a rather short one, as she barely reached Cal's chest in height, dressed in fine livery and with her salt-and-pepper hair tied into a severe bun. She proferred her hand for a shake.

 

"Eugenia Horst, Lady Governor of Hoststadt. Enchanted to meet your honored presence, Archmagus Ambervale." Said the woman. "This is Archmagus Jörgund Horst, my great-great-granduncle and protector of Hoststadt."

 

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The granduncle she introduced turned out to be a dwarf - which definitely explained why the governor was so short for a human - of advanced age, both his hair and beard completely turned gray with age, yet with a cheerful, friendly mien to his face. "Archmagus." He said as he in turn offered his hand for a shake.

 

Both of them used their mana and probed one another during the handshake. Neither resisted the probe, both as a sign of goodwill between archmages, and as they allowed a greater insight into one another's capabilities.

 

That quick probe told her that Archmage Horst was a Primary-Earth mage of great power, though his mana reserves seemed barely one-third of hers, which was probably due to his advanced age. From his slightly widened eyes she knew that he detected her Water-Blood affinity, and her rampantly abundant mana reserves.

 

"Age's been taking a toll on me of late, lass." He said with a sigh, which confirmed her suspicion. "Though I daresay even at my peak, my mana barely reached half of yers to begin with." He admitted humbly in addition.

 

"I haven't done much to boast of with it, sadly." She shrugged. "As you well know, my affinity lends itself poorly to constructive pursuits."

 

"Hah! Nonsense, if the tales I heard of ye are even half-true, even those you sport are nowhere near enough badges of honor to cover half of it." Dwarves did consider scars received in honorable combat to be badges of honor, if she remembered her lessons right.

 

"Well, not like I can keep them anyway, they fade in about a month or so." She replied.

 

The old dwarf seemed disappointed when he heard that, while the governor looked at her enviously - now that she looked closer she saw some faint traces of an old scar on her cheek covered by expertly applied make-up.

 

They engaged in small talk while they nibbled on the many kinds of finger foods spread on the buffet, and accepted a flute of wine from time to time courtesy of a passing servant. For what it's worth, the governor was smart enough to have noticed that Cal had little taste for politicking, and only perfunctorily introduced a few people, while she kept their conversation on other subjects.

 

"Is there anything at all we can do for you, archmagus?" The governor asked as the night setted and the banquet started to wind down, when some attendants already took their leave.

 

"An up-to-date map would be appreciated if you could spare to part with one. I am uncertain how valid mine is given that it was dated five years ago." Cal replied honestly.

 

"Why, certainly." The governor clapped her hand twice, and the old steward was soon by her side. "Horatius, kindly fetch a copy of a map of the coalition for the archmagus, the most recent one."

 

The steward departed into the mansion, and returned with a rolled parchment soon, which he offered with both hands.

 

"Much appreciated." Said Cal as she accepted the map, and made it vanish into her pendant. "The ones I could find in the local cartographer's guild were all either too small-scale or too old."

 

"Merely a trifle, where might you be headed if I may inquire?"

 

"For the time being, Paradise. I'll think of a further destination from there later."

 

"A wonderful city, that." Chimed in archmagus Horst. "Even if some of the inhabitants are oddballs."

 

"Do take care in your travels, lady archmagus. I would not stray from the road if possible, we had an attack by a group of wandering sickle-fiends but a month ago, and some survivors from that group might still plague the woods nearby." Cautioned the governor.

 

"Oh. I'll be sure to keep that in mind."

 

The Governor did not notice that the corners of Cal's lips curled up as she said so.

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