Rise of the Archmage Alister

Duke Blas rushed up to the three of them before they had the chance to open the door to the ballroom, looking a little out of sorts. However, he was still dressed rather similarly to Alister’s own outfit with a long black coat, grey vest, and all the fine, intricate silver embroidery that came with it. They also came with the more traditional black breeches, which Alister had always thought looked uncomfortable, and now determined he was right. Though he resembled his son, everything he wore was all the more regal and fancy. As much as he hated these social events, he knew that he needed to look the part.

The metaphorical sweat drop on the back of his head was visible as he spoke with Alliana. “Sorry I’m late. I got ah… caught up with the animals,” he admitted, just getting a look of annoyance and a matching sigh from Alliana. From behind, down the long hallway, came Felthinus. The same arrogant grin adorned his face, carrying the panache that Blas’ posture currently lacked.

“I reminded him of the time,” Felthinus said, clearly amused. “My sweet little brother always forgets himself when playing with the creatures.”

Blas glared at him for that comment. “Whatever. Let’s just go. If I take too long, Amaiara will be annoyed at me… and that won’t go well for anyone involved here,” he said, thinking about the fact that the snake woman may well be clingy tonight as well… but she had an extremely keen sense of hearing, and thought the better of actually saying such out loud, or even saying it telepathically. Though he couldn’t tell for sure, it was likely she was keeping an eye on any such messages going in or out of his mind. She was a protective nature spirit.

Blas straightened and cleared his throat, taking on a proper posture for once, before throwing wide the ballroom doors. Without missing a beat, the Master of Ceremonies called out their presence. “Now entering, Duke Blas Severin the Second, Lord of Beasts, Savior of the Labyrinthian Underground, Archdruid of Rythwith, and his wife, Duchess Alliana Ordthea Severin, Lady of the Stars, Jewel of Ordthea, Rose of the Southwest! Followed by their son, Margrave Alister Ordthea Severin the Third! Next comes Margrave Felthinus Severin the Third, White Whale of the Lyra Sea! Lastly comes friend of the Duke and Duchess, Wisteria O’neah!”

There were already a number of guests in the ballroom, the Duke and Duchess not wanting to arrive first to their own party. The better to make a fashionable entrance. All eyes were most certainly on them. Tense whispers filled the air, no one wanting to be the one to break the silence that followed the booming voice of the Master of Ceremonies. That was until one strangely dressed woman strode her way over to them, completely unbothered by any notion of social position. The woman had dark grey, almost mud-colored skin tone, with notched, pointed ears that made lightning bolt shapes. Her eyes were a solid black, with flecks of green around an oddly shaped pupil; it looked like a slit, but less sharply defined. The woman had curly, extremely voluminous, honey-brown hair that ran all the way down to stop just above the floor… which was saying quite a lot, with her muscular, seven-and-a-half-foot frame.

She wore a chiffon dress, sheer, dark teal in color, and very easily showing her body through it… with nothing underneath. She was completely unabashed in her partial nudity, not caring about the stares her small breasts got. A wide, Cheshire grin adorned her face, revealing sharpened teeth as her forked tongue flicked out to taste the air. “I welcome the duke and duchess to my territory… and Felthinus, I suppose,” she said cheekily, cupping Blas’ cheeks. “How have you been, dear? I’ve missed you, ya know,” the woman chastised, before slipping into a hug, completely unprompted and socially inappropriate. This just got a sigh from Alliana, who rest a hand on her shoulder.

“Amaiara, please. We do have to observe social propriety,” she said in a tone that made it clear the woman tested her patience, “I request you reserve such… familiar behavior for behind closed doors, yes?”

This just got a stare from the snake in woman’s form before she leaned down and gave the Duke a kiss on the cheek, smirking. “If you’d like me to restrain my affections, perhaps don’t go and vanish for five years, yes? You mortal types do tend to easily up and die in such periods of time,” she said, sighing, “But fine. I shall. At least until the man comes to his senses and accepts to being my mate already.”

After this she squatted, staring at Alister quietly for a long moment, “You were an infant when last I saw you. You’ve gotten marginally bigger. I told your father that he should hand you an egg when you were born, but he said no, that a large, man-eating snake is dangerous for children… I told him this was only the case for WEAK children, but he simply could not be convinced, since his clutch was so small.”

Alister stared back, uncertainly responding with a simple, “Thank… you?”

Amaiara continued unfazed, “I like you, child. I like your father most, but given that he is your father, you have a decent chance to grow up into a less annoying human than most. I also like your mother, although she is as stuffy as a full toad at times and seems to be the reasoning behind your father’s stubbornness,” she said before standing and looking to Blas, “Blas, if I cannot have you, can I have him when he gets older?”

This just got a groan from the man, “No, Amaiara, that’s called grooming. That is wrong.”

“I do not groom. I am not a mammal.”

In this strange interaction, Felthinus had managed to escape the group and was mingling with the crowd that was slowly coming out of their quiet stupor. Amaiara shrugged and set her eyes finally on Wisteria.

“Blas,” she started, “this little saintling will bring you trouble. You know this, right? I think the trouble will be well worth it if she uses her abilities for your sake, but trouble nonetheless. Little saintling, you stink of the gods. Did they polish your hair and eyes for you themselves?” Her tone was somewhat chiding, clearly having a distrust of the gods.

“Amaiara, be nice. She is a friend. And yes, she is a saintess,” he said, his voice quiet as he said that, “I know that minor gods have tried vying for your territory in the past, but that doesn’t mean you have to be like this to every saint or priestess that you see.”

This earned him a soft huff, “Very well. I suppose I must give credit anyway… said gods were delicious.”

“She’s basically a minor goddess herself, Wisteria-Ow,” Blas got chopped on the head for that one, his hand rubbing the spot as he rolled his eyes, “Though she hates the very idea of being something like that. She considers herself a guardian spirit, moreso. Though I HAVE pointed out to her that accepting worship in the form of food is still worship.”

“I am not a stealer of territories! This has been mine and is mine. It is as simple as that. I respect those gods of you humans that are larger, like that Inyet woman or Temera woman. It is the small ones that are annoying and pester me from time to time,” she huffed again, folding her arms, fuming at the thought, “They seek to take my territory for their own.”

“Because minor gods fight that way… yes,” he sighed, “Don’t worry about her, Wisteria. She must like you well enough.”

“If I thought the little saintling a threat I would have eaten her, yes.”

Blas tightened his ponytail back into place, “No eating anyone please. Though you say all this as though you don’t have saints and priests of your own…”

“I do not! Priests and saints are soft, selfish beings, just as demanding as they are groveling. My ‘priests’ if they must be denigrated so are DRUIDS. Not soft. They are stewards of all life in this place, not just the whining masses.”

“O-oh… so… you’re that kind of nature godd-erm… spirit, miss… I see,” Wisteria muttered, unsure how to react to this woman that had such a chaotic nature. She felt like she was a weird third wheel just being around her. She continued, bowing slightly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Lady Amaiara.”

“Hmph… at least the little saintling has manners. Come child, you will feed me plates of this ball’s food,” she said, seemingly satisfied with her reaction. The snake woman grasped Wisteria’s arm unceremoniously and began pulling her away.

“H-huh?!”