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Arlathan is so much more than every where else. It is grand, yes, but also, overwhelming? Confusing maybe. Each enanuvis has differences in how things are run in their lands. What is permitted, what is not. In Arlathan, they sort of blend. It is incredibly interesting, but it does leave one on somewhat more shaky ground than normal. Especially when the city is flooded with people for the festivals, like her, who aren’t used to the city or interacting with the followers of different enanuvis.
She is getting quite a few stares. Grant it, everyone would stare, even at home. But at home they would also step in to help. And maybe laugh. Here they hiss in alarm and draw back. She’s not too worried about getting in trouble, but she really could have used the help.
Determination takes another step forward.
The moss wrapped around her tightens its hold. It has almost completely obscured her sight and breathing is not as easy as it had been a moment ago. She makes it a few more steps before everything goes dark. Then it is just her ponderous stride and an occasional shriek of alarm that penetrates the greenery.
Her teeth are clenched with effort and fatigue is dragging at her before someone actually addresses her.
Sort of.
“Oh, dear,” the voice says. “Er. Can I, um. Are you? Although, I’m not really sure what I, er.”
Determination, still slowly moving her next leg forward, thinks for a moment. “Could you say how far I am from the stairs?” she asks. Another of Ghilan’nain’s handlers would not be so tentative and she does not want the first person to talk to her to get hurt.
“Stairs?” the voice says.
And, well, that’s not really a good sign is it?
Determination’s foot lands and she begins pulling the next leg up. “Yes, if I can get up into really bright sunlight, everything will be fine. Any of the upper walkways should do. I didn’t have the containment spell quiet right, you see. And it’s very impatient. I’ve been gone on the last campaign and, well, it completely missed its normal airing.”
“I... see,” the voice says in a tone that indicates they don’t, really. “Is there no other way to get this... stuff off of you?”
Determination tries not to bristle at the disgust the other had put into the word ‘stuff’. They are offering help, after all. “Not without hurting it,” she says, firmly.
“Right.” There is a pause. “I think there are some stairs to your left. Hold on a moment.”
Determination angles left anyway. At the rate she is moving, it will not be a fast shift in direction. She makes it three more steps before the voice returns.
“I’ve found stairs that are 27 paces at a 340 degree angle from your current facing. There is a spot of bright sun six levels up. Can you make it that far?”
“Yes,” Determination says, feeling the compression of the plant against her chest. She is certain she can make it that far before she can no longer breathe. At least, before she can no longer move. She can hold her breath for a few steps. If she needs to.
The voice stays with her, offering corrections and an occasional “please do excuse us” that would make Determination laugh if she had more air.
The climb is not something she would want to do twice, but, she makes it, step after step until, all at once, she is release. Determination stumbles slightly, bare feet landing on the now quiet moss that has spread itself on the steps all around her. She takes a deep breath, smiling. Her chest expands and contracts with enough ease to make her dizzy and she just breathes for a moment as the first buds appear and pink flowers begin to fill the air. Worth it. So very very worth it.
“Thank you,” she says, when she has caught her breath, looking for the voice. For a moment she is puzzled before she spots the tiny bird, wings moving so fast they blur, hovering beside her.
“You are welcome,” the bird says reflexively. “You’re-” it cuts itself off. There is a shimmer and a slim elf is standing beside her, head titled up to look Determination in the eye. She holds out her hand for Determinate to take; flowers flutter about her softly, which is entirely at odds with the focus in her eyes. “I’m June’s Grace.”
Determination takes her hand and bows over it. “Ghilan’nain’s Determination. And, truly, thank you.”
Grace blushes, her free hand flapping in the air, briefly creating a swirl of pink petals. “It was nothing. I’m pleased to have been of assistance.”
Straightening, Determination finds she does not know what to say next. Surprised exclamations below them, so different from the shocked hisses, draws her attention. Without releasing Grace’s hand, although Determination makes certain her grip is loose enough that Grace could slide free with ease, Determination turns to watch as the flowers drift out over the city.
Arlathan truly is stunning.