Ankhi tapped her long fingernail on the table to the tune of the music. She felt how it drove into the wood, each tap sinking deeper than the last. Unlike the others, she enjoyed the music of the lower Races. There was something – exceptional about it. A sort of barbaric beauty. She couldn’t quite put it into words. Besides, some of the ballads were quite good when paired with shagging. It felt nice, doing it to the rhythm of the drum. Thinking about that made her think about that beautiful specimen of a pleasurer she had left in her rooms. She wanted to skin Mussarr alive for summoning her on such short notice and then having the gall to be late. Thinking of that, she started tapping another finger, this one in irritation.

She sat in front of a large table, which filled almost the entirety of the balcony, one of its sides level with the railing. The sounds of a banquet rose from the courtyard below, the torches lighting up the frescoed ground and collonaded walls. Listening in, Ankhi could pick out some dribble about war and such other nonsense, but paid it no heed, instead focusing on the music. Still, if even the humans here were talking of war, that meant that Digarza was succeeding in his mission. ‘Where were they?!’ she thought irritably and was about to start tapping her third finger. As her third finger was about to land with such force as to split the table in two, a Window suddenly opened inside the empty ballroom, which led into the balcony. Digarza confidentially stepped out, his silk pala slightly flapping with the wind. Ankhi never understood why her brother liked that ancient one-piece dress, with its uncomfortable shawl draping over his right shoulder, held together by that gods’ awful brooch. The pale-faced man smiled at the sight of Ankhi, his elfen ears twitching, his red crystal eyes shining. Bowing mockingly, he spoke:

“Ahh, my dear sister. What pleasure it is to see you, especially after my lonesome and gruelling journey.”

Ankhi scoffed, though the smile on her veiled face was sincere. As was the one on Digarza. Chuckling lightly, Digarza moved to sit.

“I see I’m the first one here,” he said, taking the seat next to her. Ankhi nodded, resuming her tapping. Digarza looked at the fingers, then at her. One of his shoulders twitched ever so slightly and Ankhi sighed.

“Lousy man,” she muttered, not able to stomach that questioning gaze of his. “Ordering me to appear during my off time while being…”

In a swift motion, Aknhi sliced the air in front of Digarzas neck. A thin line of purple appeared on it, bubbles of blood starting to spill through the gap.

“I am not some Lower slave for you to use your Nur-ĝálin on. Do it again and I’ll make sure you will be left with more than just a prick,” she said in a cautionary tone.

Digarza stared at her blankly for a moment, before wiping at his neck. He smiled ruefully. “Forgive me, sister. You know how it goes – sometimes it’s just hard to control.”

Ankhi looked at him sideways, sarcasm mixing with disgust in her voice. “Hard to control. Bah! That’s no excuse and you know it!”

“Hoho! I see we’re calling the kettle black, are we? Well, let’s see how you…”

Just as Ankhi was ready to make another cut, a loud and annoyed voice echoed through the balcony. “Enough!”

Namkuz entered the ballroom through one of the doors, scuttling in his heavy square-patterned robes, the heavy chains holding his tomes closed jingling. He snarled at the two of them, his rock-like teeth slightly glinting in the bandlight. Pulling a chair opposite them, he sat, placing the books on the table. Taking a deep breath, he looked at the two siblings disapprovingly.

“Think before you act, the both of you!” he spouted through clenched teeth and pointed at the marble doorframe. A large and deep line, like one a dragon’s claw would make, decorated the ornamented frame, stone crumbling down onto the ground. Ankhi gasped theatrically at the sight, Digarza following suit. Namkuz sighed and shook his head. “At least don’t bring the palace down over such a trifling matter.”

Ankhi wanted to object but thought better of it. Namkuz was a total pushover, but he was rarely wrong. Besides, it would be his job to fix any mess they made. And that incessant droning of his did make her exceptionally annoyed. Turning, she placed a hand on Digarza's shoulder. “Forgive me, brother. I acted rashly.”

Digarza smiled at her, patting the hand. “Yes. Me too, sister. Forgive my rudeness.”

Watching them, Namkuz sniffed disapprovingly as he grabbed one of the tomes, prying the heavy metal chain open and quickly passing pages. He reached his hand out to the table. As he did, a small Window opened, revealing a small goblet which the man sipped with great enjoyment. Ankhi returned to her tapping, while Digarza took out that fool string of his, slowly knotting it around his fingers. The three of them sat like that for a while. After all, what was there to talk about? They were summoned. All they could do now was wait. Getting bored of the music, Ankhi instead started rustling with her translucent silk robes. Unlike those of Digarza or Namkuz, these were made to be as loose as possible, the see-through fabric spilling over the chair. Bunching it up, Ankhi made sure the folds at least partially hid her breasts. She did not need another lesson in modesty from Mussarr. Especially not now.

Suddenly, Ankhi felt a presence enter through a Window somewhere nearby. In an instant, the table was standing inside the ballroom, the balcony doors shut, their drapes closed. Mussarr sat at the end of the table opposite Ankhi. Like the rest of them, he had a pale complexion, his eyes a deep red, his elfen ears long and slightly drooped, partly hidden by long white hair that shone silver in the light. Dressed in heavy black robes, he seemed the shining example of an Urian – stern, regal, proud. He regarded them with an analyzing gaze.

“I see we are missing… many,” he grunted in disappointment. “No matter, they will catch up later. Digarza, report!”

Hearing his name, Digarza quickly hid his string and stood, the golden tassels of his shawl swaying as he did. Coughing, he spoke. “Bollardia has declared war. Even as we speak, the king is preparing an army, while border skirmishes are already underway…”

Mussarr noticed the pause. Lifting a bushy eyebrow, he waved for Digarza. “Continue. Do not waste time.”

“…A few days ago, some human stole a slave from the nunnery in Baye. I ordered a pursuit, but word of their success has yet to reach me.”

Ankhi mused in amusement. This didn’t happen often. Not many were able to break through the mind control. Still, the fact that a slave was stolen was worrying. She hoped it wasn’t the one that she had picked out for herself.

“I see. And to whom was this slave promised?” Mussarr asked dismissively.

“My dear sister, Ankhi.”

A silence filled the room. A tense, unnerving silence. Ankhi slowly stood. Moving to one of the walls of the ballroom, she examined the fresco of a saint, slaying a dragon. Smiling, she outstretched her hands, her long fingernails glinting red in the torchlight. Suddenly, she started flailing at the painting. ‘Some worm dares to steal what is promised to me?!’ she thought. She would make sure that... human got what he deserved. She had handpicked that boy since he was first brought to the nunnery! She chose his caretakers, what he was to be taught! He was hers! Hers and only hers! That bitch of a Nun only got to touch him because SHE allowed it!

Panting heavily, Ankhi crossed her arms under her breasts, walking away from the wall. As she did, it suddenly cracked, before exploding into a thousand small pieces of stone. Glancing, Ankhi felt relieved that the wall on the other side of the corridor was only deeply scarred by huge slashes. It meant she was able to hold herself back. Walking up to the table, she sat back down, again folding up her robe to cover up. Digarza only smiled awkwardly, while Mussarr didn’t react at all. Namkuz merely shook his head in annoyance.

Waiting for Ankhi to take her seat, Mussarr placed his fists on the table, leaning on it.

“It is finally time,” he said suddenly. “With Bollardia’s entry into the war, it falls upon us to make sure the races bleed each other dry as much as possible. Namkuz, I leave you to continue your studies. Ankhi and Digarza however I expect to see on the battlefields. A new age is finally upon us!”

Ankhi sighed as she listened to the lists of armies she would have to follow in the coming months. She couldn’t care less about this war. The lower races had their uses, if minuscule, mostly useful as a source of food or entertainment. But what she did care about was the gift that was stolen from her. The mere thought of some human worm as much as touching her property created a pit in her stomach. What’s more, everybody here acted as if this was something unworthy of note. ‘A mild annoyance’ as that old bag of bones would put it. Well, she couldn’t physically force herself to care less about their opinion. Her property was stolen. And they weren’t trying to fix it! As if she was supposed to just calm down and forget something like this!

“I expect everyone to follow their orders,” Mussarr said, sighing as he noticed the rest were barely listening. “May Kilgurash watch over our pleasures.”

“May Kilgurash watch over our pleasures,” Digarza answered as Mussar was already closing his Window. Namkuz also disappeared, the only thing left of his presence being the silver goblet. Before Digarza stepped through his Window, Ankhi grabbed him by the shoulder, making sure to press hard enough to make his bones creak.

“As my brother, you’ll make sure my gift returns to me safely, yes?” she asked in a tone of faint worry. Digarza turned to her, looking as if she had asked to bring her a gem from the Metal Coast. With a shrug and a sigh, he nodded. “Don’t have much of a choice, do I? If I don’t, my poor sister will lose her precious little toy.”

With those words, he smiled at her and closed the portal. Ankhi didn’t pull her hand away instantly, still holding on to his shoulder. For a moment, she felt the searing heat of the magic portal cutting into her skin, before finally letting go, allowing it to close. Thankfully, the searing only left a small imprint.

Looking around, Ankhi groaned as she cracked her fingers, opening a Window to her room. Her newest toy, a large qasqariam with a member to match, stood obediently. As instructed, he hadn’t moved a muscle since her untimely exit. Wrapping her hands around his waist, she whispered. “Let us continue, shall we?”

Stepping out of the portal and into his study, Digarza felt annoyed. His sister loved her dolls. He respected her for it. Not many Urians are dedicated to the Path of Pleasures. But becoming so annoyed over just a single slave?! And then ordering him to take care of it! It didn’t make him boil in anger. But it did make him simmer in annoyance. Sighing, he wiped at the place where she slashed him. It had stopped bleeding, but a slight sting remained. “Guess I better go take care of this now,” he thought, stepping through another window, which led to the camp of pursuers.