The carriage passed the steel gatehouse, escorted by four Paragons atop their large onyx mounts. A sensual feeling swirled in the air, one of strange recognition and belonging.
The city was warm, yet strangely not as warm as she had expected, as if a silent force was cooling it to be just livable. A hot summer day seemed to be the norm here, and it allowed people to wear anything from robes to dresses, yet nothing too thick or warm.
Willow gasped a little as she saw a lady wearing a beautiful, ornate Japanese robe, depicting a blooming cherry blossom tree. It went from her neck down to her knees, with long sleeves hiding every inch of skin.
'How pretty...'
Obsidian rolled his eyes, quietly sizing up the competition and status of the city.
'Seems to be prospering... Women are quite nice, too, but Moss should be able to compete just fine. Good.'
It was then that a shadow loomed over them, and even Obsidian couldn't help but freeze.
The Ark loomed, a nigh skyscraper of marble, steel, lapis, and redstone adorned sparsely with golden, onyx, and silvery hues. A silent presence descended over the carriage as they approached it. One Willow found familiar, yet had never felt this intensely.
'...S-Some druids who passed by the orphanage did say I had some meager insight into the supernatural... Is that why I feel so fuzzy?'
Then, her stomach dropped with an unseen weight.
Her head boiled as her gut froze over, a shiver crawled down her spine, the kind one felt while being watched. It felt so wrong, sweat formed on her brow as her muscles twitched against the air subtly, as if trying to choke something out of her.
That "Something" tugged her eyes to the right, and they snapped to the inside of the carriage, finding a creature looming within.
Its body was a humanoid, yet its spine pressed against its back as its ribcage squirmed against its skin. Its pale, sickly, and dark limbs stretched too low while its neck stretched too tall, its form curved to fit in the tiny space it had available, as its maw, not too dissimilar to that of a man's, creaked open.
Her eyes were glued to every twitch of its large, twisted frame. It had a man's body, its expression an unreadable frown with no pupils to speak of. Its mouth was outlined in the thinnest silver lines, its insides a thick, green glow.
It breathed onto her, and she breathed in the foulest scent she had ever smelled - Rotten eggs and fish, along with an undercurrent of withering flowers, sour honey, and damp moss.
Willow couldn't breathe; her heart seized with horror as it locked eyes with her. She paled, gulping down a growing urge to vomit. Her pupils dilated as a strange green glow emanated from its white eyes: The only feature adorning its dark face.
She didn't dare notice, but her eyes glowed a weaker, subtle green back at it, barely enough to be called a glow at all.
Its neck crackled and snapped as it grew longer, its arms melting to the floor as its legs became one with the carriage walls. The sun struggled to pierce the void as Willow finally managed to glance, for just the briefest second, at Obsidian, who lazily rolled his eyes at her distressed look.
"Oh, please, you just have to bend for the first powerful man we come across, put yourself together."
The beast vanished the second his voice echoed in her ears, and Willow took a deep, shaky breath of fear and horror.
"Y-Y-Yes..." She stuttered, hand moving to clutch her pounding chest, crumpling her dress together, causing it to ride up slightly, revealing a bit more of her upper thigh.
'S-Should I tell him...? No, he wouldn't believe me...' She took a deep breath and sighed, steadying her nerves. 'I wish I could trust him... Anyone... Fuck.!' A lonely feeling filled her heart, but she sucked it up, the sensation vanishing into her sunken stomach.
Obsidian glanced and smirked, pleased with her obedience. "You're finally getting it."
Obsidian felt nothing except for a calm and calculated sharpness as they rolled down the slope leading into the ravine and past the bridge. Entirely unaware of the strange creature that was near him mere seconds ago.
Michael, along with two other Paragons, watched the convoy approach the immense gate of The Ark, escorted by four Paragons.
"Stay on guard." That was all Michael said as he recalled Charice's anxious look before he headed out to greet the diplomats.
The carriage doors swung open, and Obsidian nodded at his guard, who informed him of their arrival.
Obsidian stepped out first and, without a second thought, approached Michael, who seemed to be in charge. The guards turned with him, leaving her to step out without nary a hand, until one of the Paragons escorting them silently offered one.
"O-Oh..." She blinked in surprise at the polite gesture, her hand instinctively snapped away from him to her chest, her senses still on alert as the strange sensation of being watched persisted. His eyes glanced at her body and the gaps revealing the tiniest bits of skin, but he immediately corrected himself.
After a few seconds, the Paragon returned his hand and slightly bowed.
"I apologize, faithful Miss." He said, his gaze snapping to the floor and then her eyes. This time, he avoided her body entirely, looking into her eyes.
'H-He's not looking at my outfit anymore...? Wait, he apologized?' A strange sense of worth swelled in Willow's heart, but it was quickly replaced with dread. How was she supposed to seduce them if they weren't interested in her, or worse, if they had self-control?
'And why can't I get rid of this feeling...' She shivered, the gaze of that creature still crawling in her soul.
Before she could speak out, the Paragon turned and walked away.
"Willow, come introduce yourself!"
Obsidian's voice quickly snapped her out of her stupor, and she rushed to join him at his side, doing her best to ignore the wind on her skin.
"She is my sister, a fellow noble of pure blood and daughter of my father, Lord Druidae. Sister, this is Sir Michael, the champion of this realm's ruler." Obsidian introduced and lied in the same breath, looking at the nervous teen with expectation.
She nervously cleared her throat under Michael's look; his gaze alone seemed to grind her spirit into a fine powder. She managed to squeak out a few words, albeit without making eye contact.
"U-Uhem, My name is Willow Druidae Moss. It is an honor to meet you."
She introduced herself with the Druidae name, and Obsidian looked in contentment, even if her greeting lacked the seductive flourish he had hoped for.
Michael was not looking at her, but rather at the fearful creature trying to hide deep in her eyes.
'A weak spirit. It's stronger than her; it must be severely wounded to make a contract with a weak shaman such as herself, if she is a shaman at all, given her insecure positioning and lack of totems...' His eyes glanced at his colleagues, who nodded, confirming his suspicions.
'She might not be trained at all. If she becomes possessed, we'll purge the spirit as a favor. Still, it would be rude to mention her spirit in such a negative light if she is a shaman, so I'll observe for now.'
Not to mention, she will be more grateful if they save her at her lowest, but Michael refused to think that way. He would help when his station allowed him to; that is all.
Michael bowed, hand over his chest armor as he reached out a hand and gently kissed Willow on the back of her palm, "It is an honor to meet you, my lady." He felt the spirit retreat from her hand, an unseen green texture to her skin, retreating to her core. The Paragons were paladins of Order, feeling supernatural actualities was as simple as making eye contact; skilled shamans could hide from their watch, but few were that good.
The fear of the spirit was understandable; spirits feared the Gods almost as much as they feared wyverns, as they should. The Gods nearly drove them to extinction, and the wyverns found them to be remarkable trophies, or worse, brood mates. Nurses of sorts.
'In her stomach.' He pinpointed, 'It's taken over her stomach, but is spreading into her veins too... It's not being aggressive; no harm is being done. Quite tame for a spirit.'
His deep voice, fit body, and profoundly confident demeanor made Willow blush red, her eyes falling away from his. A strange sensation accompanied his knightly kiss, as if something was piercing deep into her, chasing an unseen shadow away. Michael couldn't help but smile a little, likening her to a scared bunny.
He cleared his voice and stood tall, hands behind his lower back, brushing against his halberd, which was strapped to it.
"Allow me to formally introduce myself, and the nation you bear witness to." He breathed, his eyes glowing a dignified purple as an old oath surged in his heart. A royal purple glow filled his third core.
"We are the Paragons, divinely sanctioned protectors of Consort Charice, who rules over the August Maximar Republic with saintly providence and divine right. My name is Michael, The Consort's Chosen and second in command. We are honored to welcome you, respected diplomats of the outside world."
The purple glow faded, replaced by his more mundane brown eyes, which still seemed to cool the air. His tone took on a less grand and more serviceable tone, carefully measuring the reaction of his potential adversaries.
"The Consort awaits you in the Throne Room; our servants will happily take your belongings to your rooms in the meantime. You can take your guards with you if you wish; otherwise, they will be escorted to their lodgings, placed near yours, of course."
"Thank you, Sir Michael. The Federated Kingdoms will remember your kindness. My Druidae Guard will take our items to our rooms, just show them the way." Obsidian prattled with a practiced politeness, his smile as real as his integrity. He motioned for the guards to pack their belongings, carrying bags and satchels from horses. As they did this, Michael couldn't help but narrow his eyes at them.
'They're throwing such open looks at Miss Druidae, don't they realize how obvious they are?' He silently looked down at the lady, who seemed to shrink under not only his look. 'She's aware of it too, and clearly not comfortable.'
Michael breathed deeply, silencing any judgmental or offensive commentary, even as his fist couldn't help but close.
He checked on his colleagues, who looked back at him, realizing he was making sure they weren't appreciating the girl's curves. With an almost offended shake of their head, they looked firmly ahead, never straying below eye level.
'The Paragons are keeping their eyes firmly level, good. We must give a strong and disciplined first impression... Though this Obsidian failed to inform his entourage of that, it seems.'
Not to mention their dark armor and large halberds, along with their towering stature, being nearly two meters tall, made them positively terrifying to see. Charice was short, yet he was akin to a child of dust next to his escort.
As if realizing the disciplined nature of his future victims, Obsidian snapped his gaze to his guards, who quickly pretended to work again.
'Imbeciles! I'll rip them apart when we get home.' That promise had weight. Obsidian hated nothing more than having his ego bruised by incompetence, especially the incompetence of men he picked for this mission.
After that display, the Guards quietly unloaded all of their baggage, Obsidian's gaze was as heavy as their untold punishment.