Monday, August 29, 2005

   Chapter 2: Future (part 3)
The city of Quont-Ein was the capital of Anatol.
It was a huge clearing in the forest, cut cleanly out of the woods by gigantic, sloping, pale blue crystal cliffs that descended down to the city. Standing on the top, Pen could see all across the expansive blue-crystal buildings, over the sparkling golden castle, and out to the Anster Sea.
“Isn’t it a lovely view?” he heard the wisewoman say. “No matter how often I go, I am always impressed.”
“Yes,” the old wiseman replied in a quiet, croaky voice. “We are very lucky that the war did not reach it. I don’t believe that there would have been any way to replace it had it been destroyed.”
“Will we be descending now?” Pen asked roughly. Some of Tory’s folks were so scared by his tone of voice that they were silenced. Pleased, he shot them a dark look with his even darker eyes.
Usually he wouldn’t be so impatient, but there was something about looking out over Quont-Ein that made him very uncomfortable. Perhaps it was the brightness of the mirror-like crystal reflecting up to them that made him hate light even more.
“We will meet up here in three hours,” the wisewoman told him. “Until then, go where you please. We will be with the group unless we decide to split up.”
Pen nodded, stepped off the cliff, and slid straight down the blue crystal. Most people preferred to sit for this, but Pen had practice and his soft leather shoes made for a smooth ride. All he had to do watch his balance and stay in control of his feet.
It was a fun way to get into the city, but Pen did not enjoy it. The crystal was blindingly bright from the suns, without any shade until the bottom. He felt his anger growing.
After what seemed like forever, the crystal started to slope straight, and finally up slightly. Pen slowed himself with a hand just before he reached the stretch of green that divided the cliffs and the city, jumping to a full stop on the grass.
Above him, he could hear the joyful screeches of the rest of the group as they, too, slid down. It stirred his anger even more, leaving him feeling like a bomb about to explode. He trotted away into the nearest alley, where the rolling, continuous sound of many voices covered up everything else.
The city was the busiest this time of day. Even in these small alleys, farthest away from the castle, the streets were bustling with people. Elves and angels from all over Nydia came here to trade, to meet people, or to learn new skills or information. Pen liked it best in the smitheries and weapon stores, where many warriors and angels came. He stood out less among other short- and dark-haired people.
The alley he had stumbled into was dedicated mostly to healing. Staring through the clear shop windows—carved from the same crystal as the rest of the city—were mostly middle-aged elves. Some of them noticed him as he passed, even pointing him out to their friends. Pen hurried on to the North Side, where his favorite sword shop was located.
A little bell tinkled as he entered into the musky darkness of the store.

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