Into The Rift

Darkening Skies (14)

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The entourage of retainers stops us in our tracks. Douglas instigates a few light shoves against the servants, muttering as he marches through the entrance. They failed again to take the hint.

I stand strong against their aggression, unamused by their hospitality, "No, that's not going to happen, period. We can handle our stuff just fine, no need to go that extra mile."

One of the braver servants pushes back with a stern look, unwilling to accept the ultimatum. "It might be imprudent of me to say this but—"

From the side, Anja steps forward with a raised tone. "Noble as our intentions are, we must abide by their wish. They seek to carry their own belongings. It is their right, we are to accept it, even if the code deems otherwise."

"Idiots just can't take our hint can they?" Douglas shoots back with a cold glance. "No way in hell we're giving them our weapons."

The servants drift to our rear, some holding an offended look. They trail silently behind this time, giving everyone an unobstructed path ahead through the hall. "You're doing your jobs, I understand that. But we don't need any assistance, so save yourselves the effort."

"W—we... understand, it would be unbecoming of us to not honor your wishes."

The head servant steps up, forcing his way to my side. "Then, let us guide you to your rooms at the very least. This honour is ours to uphold if nothing else."

Considering his request, I wave him off to the front. It seems reasonable enough. "Go ahead, I won't stop you," I say, urging the man forward.

With a spirited nod, the head servant recalls his entourage to the front. They race ahead to take the lead position forming two files that mirrored our own. James catches up with the surroundings as we trudge through the palace interior, its halls forming a complex web of passages and junctions.

"They didn't hold anything back," he murmurs, then turns around, "half the damn walls are covered in something."

"Yeah," I admit, gaze touring across the ceiling. Murals loomed above, their abstract impressions an endless constellation of colours and shapes—and on occasions, people. "Something new everywhere you turn."

The murals showed advanced signs of aging, the kind that spanned over centuries. In some examples, it was almost impossible to formulate an interpretation because of how much was lost to time. That Warden really did mean it when he said the palace was old.

"Wonder what else they've got in store for us. At this rate, I'm half expecting bigfoot to serve us drinks," Robert briefly muses over comms.

I step in with a reply, slightly amused by the mental image of that famous cryptid in formal attire. "If that thing shows up, might as well start believing in mermaids."

"There's a chance they actually exist," James interjects with a scoff, "Hell, it wouldn't be a surprise. We've all seen the ecology report on New Eden. World's filled with tons of exotics."

"Of course you'd be excited over it," Douglas looks over with a dry tone, "Sometimes I wonder how'd you even make it through selection."

"Me too... not complaining though," James returns with no small amount of pride. "There's lots for me to be proud off, wouldn't trade it for anything."

After concluding the conversation, a warm silence takes over. With the promise of accommodations just around the corner, I was more than a little curious as to what the locals are able to provide—and to what extent.