The True Colours of an Empire_Ch:1_Dragonborn 1

When visiting the capital city of the Khecasha Empire, one could easily mistake it for the hometown of giants. The reason is its gargantuan buildings that stand high on the land of the Khecashian people. The towering noble house of the Lomamantle family stands taller than the rest of the noble houses of Khecasha, like a watchful father of the capital. Early in the morning, the sun peers through the buildings. As the sun rises over the tops of the buildings, bringing light onto the massive city, the houses look like a hive of ants exposed to the outside. And in the afternoon, when the sun meets the horizon, the Lomamantle house's shadow slowly sweeps all over the town like the hand of a clock, as a metaphor for its power and long history. A closer inspection of the building shows that its stone surface has been carved with sword marks, depicting the battles won, territories conquered, various other achievements and the blood spilled honour of the empire’s history. These carves are proudly displayed as an honour to the empire, for the people to see. Two figures enter this building with a particular purpose in mind.

Two of the standing guards of the historical halls guided these two persons through the mansion, the home of many ancient paintings containing prideful historic moments. Passing through the foyer felt like passing through a physical timeline as the paintings were displaying the ancient tales of the house's accolades. The two individuals were being seated in a rather simple room. The room was filled with the smell of fresh fruits, and a tingling smell of ash from the fireplace. The chairs were sown with the finest of thread and the dark oak wood, and were well consistent with the orange and red coloration of the house banner.

“His lordship will arrive shortly, please be seated.” As the guards closed the heavy doors, the light of the candles sealed those two inside the room.

The larger one of them, whose mane is tied on certain ends, starts investigating the room, then stares at the fireplace and patiently awaits the arrival of the man who removed them from their prison cells. As he momentarily looks at the flame and recalls the events that led him to this moment, a smile is drawn across his face. He throws another piece of wood into the flame.

The smaller figure touches the skeleton of a rare deceased creature that was kept on the cabinet, in the room.

“The bones of those things are rather…fragile. Be sure not to break our host's trinkets.” The man with mane says.

“Drachma, I have the hands of a musician. It would be rather unbecoming to grip something with such an extreme force.” As soon as the smaller one finishes his sentence the door of the room swings open, revealing the guards who brought them in that room, and behind them the patriarch of House Lomamantle, Aeren Lomamantle. 

The man’s head is proudly angled up, like a statue. His reddish blonde beard is finely trimmed, like a nicely restrained forest of maple trees in autumn. As the man walks toward them, his words meant for the guards are spoken throughout the room with authority. “I will be fine here. Leave us alone.” The guards, without a moment of hesitation, leave the room.

“I have given you the invitation to visit my home. Now I shall deliver the reason for you being here.” He says, tossing a drawing of two shadow figures leaving a factory.

“Citizens are saying that they saw these two escape a month ago. And while the guards are handling this situation, I figured I would bring you here. The house of Lomamantle wishes to bring these creatures back into captivity. This mission is to be executed secretly. We managed to convince the populace that it was a rogue mage. Reports have stated that these two beings are headed to the town of Vada.”

Drachma stands up, “So, you wish for us to bring in some lizards, and they can wield magic too?”

T.B.C.

Writer: Alejandro Faverzani.

Artist: Nayeli Zelaya.

Co-writer and art editor: adifferentway.