The Humanarium.

Chapter 11 The Blackening.

I've collected the flora they seem to use and have started to create a compendium of the various species and sub species.

They reached the open gates to the town and as they passed under the great stone arch, Harl's breath was taken away.

The town was vast and imposing. Great spires jutted up in to the air and it seemed that instead of spreading outwards, they had built upwards. Moss covered the once pale stonework that had been cut and set long ago by skilled craftsmen. All around them carts, driven by large oxen, wheeled towards the bustling market place in the town's center. Canvas-covered merchant stalls were packed into the central road through town, hemmed in on all sides by tall buildings. Harl was surprised to see so many food stalls, each selling a variety of produce, that he had never seen before. He ran his eyes over the stalls packed with brightly-coloured fruits and his mouth watered at the prospect of tasting so many new flavours.

They stopped en route and Sonora spoke with one of the traders, handing over one of her potions as they talked. The man offered them some of the fruits and meats he had on his stall, smiling as he stowed the bottle in his coat. Gorman took two of the fruits and offered one to Harl. It was bright red and small enough to hold in his palm. When he bit into it, he cried out in surprise. It was juicy and soft, but the sweetness of it made him grin and slap Gorman on the back.

'Strawberries,' Gorman laughed, and then popped a whole one into his mouth.

As they moved on, Harl noticed people staring at him. At first it was just eyes flicking in his direction, but then people began to point at him and a murmur of conversation spread. A small boy even ran into a shop and dragged his mother outside, shouting, 'Look! Look! His hair's a funny colour.'

Excitement burned through the crowd like a wildfire. Soon a small band of children was trailing them through the market. One of them bumped into Gorman's stick and the blind man swatted at the child, causing the rest of them to scamper away.

Gorman placed his hand on Harl's arm. 'Come, it's time we made for the council tower.'

They walked a short way until they reached the bottom of the largest tower in the city. The clean marble structure stood white and imposing over the three of them, its sides decorated with god-shaped carvings. Two guards stood outside and, after a look at Harl, ushered them inside.

The foyer was dark and imposing. The only light came from dull torches guttering on the wall opposite the door they had come through.

An arched door stood twenty paces in front of them, hemmed in on either side by two more ceremonial soldiers, their armour bedecked in jewels and gold plating. The room had carved wooden benches lining the sides seating patient petitioners who stared at the three of them. Harl could feel the thick warm air encase him and the door opposite opened.

A greying man entered and hobbled over to them. His gold embroidered robe marked him out amongst the others in the room. He bowed to Sonora and then clasped Gorman's hand.

'Welcome, friends,' he said, smiling, and then turned to Harl. His eye studied Harl's face and then the gaze lifted to Harl's hair.

The old man nodded and signalled that Harl should walk with him. 'My name is Naldor. Forgive the haste of this greeting, but word of your arrival has scared many. The council will see you right away. Speak the truth and things will go well.'

Naldor led them into a round chamber lined with rows of benches that faced a large semi-circular table. Seated around the table staring at them were six wise-looking figures wearing robes, five men and one woman. There was an empty seventh seat and Naldor walked up to it and took his place.