NELNIFA CORLEDIA has a weak voice. When outrage sparks because of her mistake, she diverts the attention to the real problem: the truth to why their territory is poor. This takes Nelnifa to fishing ports, weaving districts, and back to the very plac...
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
2404 Crescin 15, Velpa
They didn't find Marshal Ilphas that day. When he did return that night, Marshal Laie said he denied ever setting the palace on fire. "The old feeder told me he'd never even used magic that day," Marshal Laie had said when Nelnifa dropped by the office the other day. As expected, she didn't find Ilphas there either. Laie shrugged. "So, we're all at a loss, Princess."
And they continued to be at a loss several days later. After being held back at the palace for safety reasons and not being allowed to go home, Nelnifa stomped and moped inside one of the guest rooms available in the manor. It was supposed to be accomodation given to visiting emissaries from other territories or even the Seelie Court representatives based in Lanteglos but the rooms were largely unused because well...no one ever comes most of the time.
During the unexpected downtime, Nelnifa spotted a fresh batch of parchment and a set of a quill and a bottle of ink lying on the desk. Then, an idea sparked in her head and she got to work. Now, as the frenzy around the manor has died down, Nelnifa strode towards the manor's exit bearing the product of her work a few days before.
As she walked, she tore the seal placed upon the brittle envelope and drew the folded sheet of parchment stuck inside. When she opened it, Seravel's response tumbled out. He always did have the best handwriting out of all of them.
A smile pulled against the corners of her lips, knowing her friend was still alive and well. Seravel Rovodia, one of the sons of the Fire Potentate, was one of the few friends from other territories she had. They, along with Ariden Sarethol from the Earth Sprite territory, Avalora, met during one of the many Potentate conferences in Lanteglos.
It was a silly memory, consisting of Nelnifa getting lost in the winding corridors of the Imperial palace and the boys being up to some mischief. She remembered bumping into them by accident and that night had been one of the most fun-filled days she had. For some reason, it involved a panicking servant, buckets of agrubian paint, and a whole lot of scream-laughing.
Since then, they agreed to keep tabs on each other once in a while and that usually involved a catching-up letter once a year. However, with the things happening with Nelnifa, she had written to them for an entirely different reason.
Now, her eyes scanned the page and the lines of ink scrawled into it, trying to absorb its meaning as her feet slogged through the downward path away from the manor. It pleases me to know that you're doing well despite everything, Seravel had written. He was truly the most soft-spoken and gentlest person Nelnifa knew. To answer your question, I will tell you as briefly as I can.
The letter broke off into a new paragraph. No, I admit I have not seen the baskets you are referring to in any of the trading squares in Lanbridhr. I've checked here in Calca to no avail. My investigation from the inventories in the other cities yields the same result. I have also asked around my circles about the salvia but none of them seem to know what I talked about. I, myself, am at a loss as to what salvia might be and what kind of baskets Desara seems to be weaving.
