KENNEN JARMEZ IS TRAPPED. A web of forgotten secrets and buried history descends upon him. With a war looming over their heads, he has to crack the mystery surrounding a particular object in his care in search of allies. After triggering a hidden sp...
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2412, Diori 06, Briss
The blast of wind from the surface ripped Kennen's hair away from his forehead. He emerged from the stairs leading to level ground, the sun's rays stinging his eyes. Hot air tickled his skin, making him regret not shedding the long-sleeved robes he was accustomed to wearing underground. Sweat immediately beaded from his hairline and slid down the back of his neck. Why did they settle underneath Penleth of all places?
Bustling noises greeted him as he shut the trap door leading to another of the fortress' secrets. The Ionarai had done a good job in sheltering most of the ice sprites who didn't want to go to battle, and Kennen has taken it upon himself as their crovalis to make sure they have all they need. That meant enduring these trips to the surface to inquire of matters such as finance, supplies, and records of the recent battles. If they needed to evacuate, Kennen should be informed prior in order to prepare.
The inner quadrant was a flurry of wings, clothes, and carts of weapons. Most of the inventory was here, and only the closest circle to the three generals could enter. With Geradine Draswist representing the faction of the ice sprite army sent to aid in the defense of the fortress, Kennen had earned his pass. With the Chief and the Grand Marshal stuck underground to manage internal affairs, General Draswist answered to him.
He trudged past the near-empty quadrant, his boots disturbing clumps of dried mud on the way. Overhead, the sun made no effort to dim, much to his chagrin. Unbelievable, how he once thought the ice sprites could survive on the surface. Who said anything about temperatures improving? If anything, the surface turned into a desert overnight. For once, he was glad both Courts stopped him from continuing on with that foolish plan.
The command tent, characterized by the long sheets of dusty canvasses strung by metal poles stuck to the compact soil, appeared in the distance. Kennen quickened his pace, eager to get out of the blistering heat and back to the cool atmosphere of the underground caverns.
As soon as he reached the tent's flap, it whooshed backwards and a woman stepped out, a large hood covering most of her head. Probably another ally reporting to the commanders. Not concerning Kennen and his business. He was about to duck inside the tent when his periphery caught a whiff of red locks. Familiar red locks.
"Stop," he said aloud, in a tone bordering on a command and a desperate plea.
The woman followed, her skirts swishing around her legs when she turned to Kennen with an undeniable flair. "Yes?" she asked, a smile thick on her voice. "Do you need something?"
"I know you, don't I?" Kennen said.
A chuckle. "That depends," she said. "I'm known by everyone and no one."
"Enough with the riddles," he narrowed his eyes and tried to glimpse of anything else underneath that hood. The eyes. He needed to see her eyes. "Take off your hood."
"As you wish," the woman said, raising her arms and taking a hold of it. Then, she slid it down. Thick, red hair rippled down her back, framing her round face and complimenting her lips painted wine red. Sharp, aquamarine eyes stared back at him.
