albany
Everything was overwhelming Albany. The smells, the colors, the sounds, the voices-
The Palacio’s domes and turrets echoed sound like a motherfucker, and Albany had never been in a place so loud her entire life. The whistling wind and her mountain’s groans were her earworms, not chittering laughter, sharp voices and brittle krystallin.
The hallways were winding, long and wide. They were lined with glittering tapestries, ornate paintings and kohn verminian scrawl. Statues and pillared altars occasionally found a place off the sides, but Albany hardly had time to notice them.
The group of herself, Viaris, the Lux Deorum and her council, and the stern looking one moved through the Palacio, deeper. Albany was in the back of the procession, taking note of how all others moved so they could pass through. She watched Viaris laugh and joke with the Lux Deorum, a few of the council members listening idly as well. Albany watched the silver-haired, angry-faced one softly scowl, eyes darting around the party as though she were looking for something.
Albany would’ve felt out of place if anyone noticed her, but everyone seemed preoccupied. She was herself anyways as well, taking in the sights and sounds of the Palacio.
Eventually, they came to a large corridor, open and wide. The room inside was large, low tables of wood and stone with pillows and blankets covering the floor. Krystallin lit it all a low blue.
The party began to process inside, the stern-faced one stopping just outside the door.
As Albany tried to follow Viaris inside, the stern-faced one blocked her with an armored arm.
“We only require Viaris for this meeting,” The stern-faced one’s voice was low and monotone. Her blue eyes bore into Albany’s own as she took a step back.
Viaris turned back to look at the two, visibly sighing, “Celette, at ease. Albany, go explore, dear. We will catch up later.”
With a curl of anxiety in her stomach, Albany nodded, turning away and rushing down the hall.
Why do I feel so weird?
Why did that all feel so weird?
Albany kept her head down as she wandered, mind receding as she picked herself apart, breath coming faster and faster each moment.
Why did Viaris leave?
Why did they all ignore me?
Why did they all ignore everyone but each other?
They seem so different from everyone at the Jezoin temple.
Her heart panged. She missed it.
Like a sudden gale, she was filled with overwhelming sadness.
Albany nearly gagged as her breath wouldn’t slow.
I miss the mountains. I miss the solixen fields. I miss the hills and the creak. I miss Fria and Nanol. I miss Denai and Variti.
I miss home.
Albany moved so that her back was against a wall (which, she noted, in the back of her mind, was made of craggy stone as opposed to the smooth she had seen before). She laid a hand on her chest, forcing her heaving chest to move steadily. After some (great) time, her breathing slowed and her body tingled and twitched with exhaustion.
“Gods,” Albany whispered under her breath, sighing and running a hand through her hair.
Where am I even?
Albany looked up, finally taking in her surroundings.
It was immediately clear why she came here.
It was quiet.
The walls were low, rough stone. There were wooden and cloth doors covering openings in the walls, lit low by small growth of krystallin between them. Albany saw a few devout, dressed in a deep teal move slowly and nearly silently between rooms. She had heard of this type of devout, but had never seen them before. Store-maidens.
Most temples didn’t have them. They didn’t have a reason too. Very few places on earth required specific devout to manage their stores, but if there was any place that needed an entire fleet of them, it was the Palacio.
They were specially trained, learning all about the miscellaneous, exhausting list of things kept in the stores. They memorized where they were, what they did, how much of it they had and how to acquire more. It was a job for more reclusive, solitary devout. But, it was fulfilling work. They could mix and brew things that no one else on earth could.
And Albany watched as they flitted around the stores.
She took a deep breath, approaches a group of two of them with a wave.
“H-Hello,” Albany’s voice was weaker than she would’ve liked. “Is it alright if I look around the stores? I’m visiting from the Jezoin temple.”
“Of course,” One of the blue-clad devout replied with an easy smile. “Let us know if you have any questions. Feel free to use anything within reason, unless its container is marked with circular outline.”
Albany nodded and was about to say thank you, but the other devout spoke up, head-cocked to the side, “You said Jezoin, right? Isn’t that Viaris’s new temple?”
Albany was a bit surprised; she didn’t expect any random store devout to know that. She laughed (it was fake), and nodded, “Yes, she is the high priestess there. She is my mentor, actually.”
Both of their eyes lit up. They clasped each others hands, “Wow!” One said, eyes wide. “You’re so lucky! I’d give anything to be mentored by a master like Viaris.”
“She is fantastic, I can openly admit that,” Albany laughed, a sheepish thing. “I’ll take my leave now. I’ll let you know if I have any questions.”
She turned away, hearing the two whisper and giggle to each, calling another store devout over.
Albany frowned as she walked deeper into the labyrinthian stores, brow creased.
Is Viaris really that well known?
I am in Diamus, people are bound to more of her here than anyway else.
The devout looked to be older than Albany, and she was nearly on her 23rd sun.
Had Viaris been their high priestess at one point or another?
It wasn’t impossible, fuck it was highly probable. Viaris only left to be at the Jezoin temple seventeen suns ago.
Plenty of people at this temple used to be under Viaris when she was the high priestess.
Why didn’t I think about that?
Because she never talks about it.
Gods, Albany’s head hurt.
-----------------
Albany took the chance to distract herself.
The stores were massive. Endless even. There was plenty to explore and get lost in. And, there were hardly any people with her. Though she could occasionally hear the deep vibration of masses moving above her from the Palacio’s main floor, it was mostly insulated by the rock around her.
She dipped in from storeroom to storeroom, marveling at all of their contents. She found pigments of all types and colors, ground up into fine powders for dyeing and painting. There were bottles of all different types of oils, some smelling putrid and acidic while others like rich seeds from the northern hills.
There were several stores of drying meat, all hung on racks, aging in the darkness. She could smell the aromatic spices and sea salt from several stores away.
She walked down one of the curving hallways, nerves sufficiently calmed by this point. She entered another store, this one covered by a silken, pink cloth.
In this store, there was another person. The only one she had come across in her musings. She nearly stalled but kept moving to inspect the many glass jars the store held.
The other person was inspecting a jar of dried leaves with a great amount of scrutiny, mumbling his breath.
Albany couldn’t help but notice his clothing, extravagant in a... purely foreign way. He wore tight, black pants and a white, loose top, the fabric nearly glittering. It was pushed up to his elbows, revealing a beautiful mess of stained skin. Long, stained lines of indigo markings. It didn’t look permanent, but it was striking nonetheless. His hair was wavy, curling around his face. Woven within his dark brown, nearly black locks were small pieces of luminous krystallin, sending small shafts of light into the dimly lit space.
Albany went to the opposite side of the small store, inspecting a jar filled with imperfect, black pearls.
An ornate jar on one of the top shelves of the store caught her eye. It was a warm red, made from clay and painted with a deep indigo. She recognized the kohn verminian on its side. She reached upwards, straining. She went to her tiptoes, pointing her slipper-clad feet.
She carefully gripped it with her shaking hand, biting her lip as she grappled with the earthenware. Sweaty palms lifted the thing from its place, moving to struggle opening it. She moved it under her arm, pulling at the sticky cap. With one strong tug-
dUMBASS...
The thing slipped from Albany’s gripped, cascading onto the stone floor. The vase shattered, spreading a fine pearly pink pigment over the ground.
Albany tensed immediately, staring downwards at the perhaps priceless pigment she just fucking whiffed onto the ground. She dropped to the ground, trying in some way to salvage it.
“Oh dear! Are you alright? Are you hurt at all?” The man who shared the store (Albany had fully forgotten about him until that moment) spoke from above her.
Albany shook her head, reaching out to grab the large chunks of hard pigment. She reached into her waist bag, a shaking hand calmly pulling out a small glass bottle, “I’m alright- no cause for concern.”
The man seemingly ignored her, following her to the floor and gathering up the chunks of broken glass.
Grateful as she was, Albany poured her focus into carefully collecting the clumps of pigment. When she finally filled the jar, she felt the eyes of the man on her. He had wrapped the bits of broken vase in a piece of cloth and tied it, though his gaze was trained on the pigment Albany clutched.
“Oh gods- I apologize for staring. I’ve just never seen any sort of... anything like that! The stores here have so many interesting things!” He exclaimed, a jovial lilt ringing in his voice.
He shook his head, rising, then extending a hand downwards. Albany took it, gently pulling herself up to stand.
He was a tad bit taller than her, but entirely different in physique. Where Albany was toned with well-used muscle, he was soft, and shaped with delicate curves. His skin was a few shades paler than Albany’s sunny tan and much less worn. One of his eyes reflected a moss like green and the other a molten warm brown. They crinkled at the corners as his full lips pulled into an even warmer smile.
He was beautiful, purely and truly so.
“O-oh gods,” Albany stuttered, letting out a nervous laugh and running a hand through coppery hair. “It’s no trouble. Thank you for helping at all.”
“It was hardly any trouble at all.” He merely chuckled at Albany’s flustered response and continued to smile, the krystallin’s light bouncing light off his cheeks. “I have to ask, you have the look of a Victusian. Are you from Diamus?
“Ah, no actually!” Albany’s voice shot up an octave. “I’m a priestess from the Jezoin temple, in the western mountains. I just arrived to visit for the festival. And... I assume you’re from off landmass?”
“Yes, I work as an ikan for the Idakaj line of the throne of Terran Imperia,” He said such a phrase of weight so easily it almost made Albany confused.
He works for the imperial line?
Who in the Gods name am I speaking to?
The man moved, holding up the fabric door of the store leading outwards, “Would it be rude for me to ask your name?”
“No, not at all.” Albany spoke as she ducked and exited. “My name is Albany Redre- and, um, yours?”
“My name is Markis Dupure,” He moved just outside of the store, bent at the waist to grab Albany’s hand, and press a soft, simple kiss onto the tanned skin.
Customary or not to Terran Imperia or not, a flush crept its way towards her ears.
Markis raised an eyebrow, unfazed, and grabbed her other hand and did the same thing. A hushed giggle came from a few wayward store devout. Albany felt her face burn even hotter.
“Would you like to accompany me back to my chambers? Maybe a glass of Imperian tea will calm your nerves” Markis’s voice was soothing, like spring honey.
How did he know I was nervous?
I mean, he did say he was an ikan.
Albany shook herself from her thoughts, nodding and smiling, “As long as it's appropriate, of course. I don’t want to impede any of your plans.”
“My charge is occupied for the next few hours with pleasantries and has given me some time off. It’d be wonderful to have company,” Markis beamed a warm smile at her that she couldn’t help but return.
Markis reached over, grabbing her hand in his own and guided her from the stores. All the while, Albany was drenched in her own thoughts of how different things were here.
AnD if SHE could STAND it OR NOT!!!!!!
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