Prince Gyllen Ch. 19

"I wonder..." Gyllen mused to himself before back-pedalling into the corridor walking to a third door yet untried while Min peeked her head from out the frame to watch. When attempting the handle however, the prince was unable make the door budge in the slightest, no matter how much he jostled it. Not anticipating this to be the case, the blond turned his head to the goblin with mystification and mild discomposure in his bonny features before he then went over to a fourth door to try the same thing only to be met with the same absence of avail.

"But how did they...?" Gyllen began to ask, but unable to fully articulate even the first of many questions he had in his head from how utterly baffled he was, continuing to rattle the locked portal on its hinges in stubborn vain before eventually admitting defeat, not bothering to attempt any further doors, as he assumed this pattern would continue onwards down the rest of the brass passageway, and possibly even beyond.

"Ah, prob'ly not worth dwellin' on too much, Goldie. After all, the djinn work in mysterious ways!" Min remarked in a sarcastic, trembling voice aping Jumishat as she motioned her open palms in exaggerated circles through the air while waggling her fingers. "Anyhow, we got loads a' time t' kill, an' I've got a bit a' catchin' up to do with me mags~ I'll let ya get on wi' yer own jollies for now. Oh, an' if ya hear any wailin', don' check up on me...'less ya plan on lendin' a hand~!" Min snickered, winking one of her eyes before slipping her freckled face back into her chamber and firmly slamming the entrance to it shut, leaving Gyllen with little other options but to return to his own appointed guestroom.

Barely taking two steps back into his temporary lodgings, Gyllen could already hear soft murmurs coming from the other side of the wall where Min's quarters were located, though he merely shook his head and paid them no heed, as one learned to do over time from sharing a cabin with the libidinous little goblinoid for weeks on end. Having just come fresh off from a seven day-long haul through the desert without a thorough wash, the blond decided a bath should be the first thing in order, seeing he had found himself invited to a stately feast out of the blue and had to make himself as presentable as possible in the unknown interval of time he had to spare. For the first time since purchasing them, the prince lifted the rover's robes he wore -- now darkened with dust - up and over his fair-haired head before he bundled them up into his arms and headed for the box of drawers, opening the topmost compartment to store them away only to have two cylindrical objects already present within roll forwards from the motion. One was a glass bottle, unopened and containing a transparent, viscous liquid Gyllen was all too accustomed using, and the other was black, slightly curved with a rounded tip and a rotund base not unlike the toys found next door. Their paired presence caused the prince's face to flush scarlet, as it implied the djinn had the cabbalistic capabilities and means to unearth every one of their guests' delights, no matter how private they may have been.

Putting this questionably disquieting postulation out of mind for now, the prince proceeded to, albeit hesitantly, strip and make use of the provided, pre-prepared tub to begin freshening himself up, the tepid waters feeling like soma for his pores after going without bathing for such an extended period as he methodically cleansed his soft, white skin of accumulated grime and his lustrous locks of collected dirt. Afterwards, Gyllen would towel himself down with a provided cut of fluffy cloth, redress himself in his shirt, coat and jodhpurs and proceed to recline on the bed, spending the next couple hours thumbing through several texts taken from the shelves as he waited for his tresses to finally dry. By this time, the merry muffles coming from Min's room had ceased completely, though Gyllen did not pay much of a thought as to what the goblin was up to now, or even whether she remained in her room still, rather engrossed in his reading, even if the bookshelf appeared to be stocked exclusively with Snjórlandic-scribed tomes he had already enjoyed in prior years. Whether this was merely a major coincidence or by conscious design, the blond chose not to mull over.

Afterwards, the prince left his lodgings with the riding gear in hand, desiring to further explore the rest of the city's spectacles. Gyllen travelled through several meters worth of winding interior, turning down sharp right-angles whenever they presented themselves, going around gradual bends almost imperceptible and ascending a spiral stairwell or two. The prince passed by the occasional handmaid or guardsman in garish livery who would warmly smile and greet him politely, which he returned out of habit. Never once did the prince have to ask any of them for directions however, even if the complex's layout was wholly unfamiliar for him, as he appeared to find whatever he was seeking in that moment just fine by regularly going through whichever doors simply seemed inexplicably 'right' to him, leading him through small antechambers, vast auditoriums and even between buildings via parapeted catwalks before coming across the library mentioned to him earlier which he was curious about seeing with his own eyes.

Though he did not plan to stay for long, Gyllen was nonetheless stunned by what he saw: rows upon rows of shelves carved from glossy mahogany as far as the eye could see, each one stuffed to the brim with all manner of grimoires, manuscripts and scrolls, and towering almost as high as the dim ceiling supported twenty meters above by great granite columns. Every scrap of writing ever published since the advent of language and then some must have been held in that place, making Countess Mircalla's collection seem like a tabloid rack! A single lifetime of constant study alone would have been incapable of even leaving a dent in completing the catalogue, and yet a handful of scholars in flowing robes and flat berets could be seen navigating their way between these colossal brackets with purpose, scaling their altitudes on ladders of ridiculous span to seek out just one particular codex.

Overwhelmed by the sheer scope of it all, Gyllen left the library though considered returning at a later date during his stay to try his luck in finding any tomes of particular interest. For now, the blond believed some leisurely equestrianism should be next on his agenda and embarked to seek out the grounds of which the Sultana spoke of. It did not take long before Gyllen happened upon an exit which brought him directly out onto an flat, open expanse of the orange desert by the base of the mighty pyramid atop which Nahas-w-Jawahir was constructed, likely on its rear-facing slope judging by the massive, albeit simple, corral fenced with white metal propped just a few feet away from where Gyllen stood that he could not recall seeing from his initial approach. Within the circuit, a group of warriors-type fellows with scimitars on their sides, tapering helmets on their heads and fluttering white capes on their shoulders rode enormous, sturdy steeds at breakneck speeds, rehearsing various formations and strategies.

Unintimidated, the prince approached the enclosure and, following a concise dialogue with the stablehand, procured a pony to make personal use of for as long as he pleased. Though not quite so elegant compared to Snowcloud, the chestnut-coated horse handled satisfactory and obediently, and it was not long before Gyllen was trotting laps around the perimeter like a professional, though still kept a fair distance from the drills in progress. Time seemed to slow down to a crawl as the prince was returned to halcyon summer days when he would gallop carefree through grasslands and groves, wind sweeping through his long hair and whistling past his ears, all but forgetting of the sand and grit in place of pasture that lay beneath his horse's thumping hoofs. Even the training cavalry paused their practice for a few minutes to observe the blond's expertise, especially impressed when the foreigner felt daring enough to successfully clear a couple of the decently tall oxers dotted about the enclosure. Gyllen was unaware of the small audience he had gained, far too engrossed in his nostalgia to pay much external heed, barely even noticing the hours flying by until the sun had dipped enough in the sky to sweep the once vibrant desert in a melancholy twilight.

It was then that a servant boy appeared and entreated for the prince to halt his activities as tonight's grand dinner party was about to go underway. Returning the pony to its keeper, Gyllen allowed for the young man to guide him to the area where he was to sup. The attendant retraced the blond through hallways, past vestibules and across bridges, some of which the prince swore were the very same he had walked down earlier and yet were now leading him to places of the canton he never before saw, though the impression was difficult to determine for certain given how monotonous the interior hallways were.

Whatever the case may have been, Gyllen was soon brought before a set of double doors, a fair deal larger than any of the others had seen thus far in the city, coloured sky blue and adorned with coiling gold engravings around its edges. The boy then took position by one door alongside another servant of similar age and identical trappings, and together they both pulled their respective halves of the portal open wide with perfect synchronicity. A blinding fulguration spilled forth suddenly from the created opening, briefly dazzling the prince as the once ill-lit copper corridors within his radius bounced the luminescent beams against one another. Once his sight adjusted to the light, Gyllen saw a gigantic, pentagonal hall now lain yawning before him, its walls and pillars covered from varnished floor to vaulted ceiling with kaleidoscopic mosaic, holding three enormous, ring-shaped tables covered with spotless tablecloths and kept so low to the floor, that their occupants -- of which there was many -- could only be sat by its surface on polychromatic zabutons as opposed to chairs. The trio of tables were set in front of a trinity of thrones elaborately constructed from a kind of silverish soapstone and each raised on a dais, though the centremost seat was noticeably larger and uplifted higher compared to the two on either of its sides, all of this kept lit by way of a massive orb of phosphorescent diamond suspended on a slowly twirling wire up above.

Gyllen entered the pleasing chamber with a positive stride to his step as sounds of ongoing conversation, laughter and song intermingled through the airwaves and into his small ears, though his pace soon slowed down to a gingerly crawl once he reached a perceptible range of the psychedelic cast who had already taken their places around the tables prior to his arrival. Teal-skinned giants, antlered men and elephant-face women were but a mere fraction of the kinds of characters socialising that evening, every last one of them a member of some sort of race Gyllen failed to identify, let alone come across in the past, as if they were entities from another world altogether. Even the band of minstrels playing on lutes, zithers and tambourines off to the side was entirely alien to the young man, their snake-hipped vocalist in a spangled dress with flesh like lapis lazuli and braided, black hair trilling out lyrics in passionate Sahra'ramalian. An irrational suggestion of nervousness then suddenly overcame the prince, in the same manner he would have felt as if he had just stumbled across a conclave where his presence was unwelcome. It was not often that the blond felt himself so detached amongst others, not helped by the fact he had yet to espy a single fellow human situated anywhere within the room.

"Heeey, look who finally decided t' join us!" A voice then called out to him, temporarily distracting him from his perturbation. Gyllen faced where he heard the words come and, although he recognised their accent, it took him a moment for his mind to register the one it belonged to. Approaching the prince was a humanoid roughly three feet in height, her skin a lime green, outfitted in a splendid skirt that reached her ankles, with rattling beads hanging from its waist and a split cut in its left side to give glimpses of her smooth, stubby leg beneath, and a short, sleeveless top which displayed her stomach with pride, both pieces of clothing dyed azure and lined with yellow needlework. A type of long headdress of matching design trailed from her crown to her shoulders, tucked behind her pointed ears and allowing only for a tuft of crimson hair to peek out from underneath its right half, a gold chain banded around her cranium and hanging with a single, tear-shaped pearl in its centre, as well as least three distinct carcanets hanging from her neck, and a multitude of bangles jingling loosely from her arms.

"M-Min!? Is that you?" Gyllen stammered out upon seeing his crass companion accrued in such regal trappings.

"Well, it ain't the Emperor of Pavlova, ya twonk." The goblin answered, throwing up her hands. "Ya know anybody else this bootylicious?"

"S-sorry! It's just that you're dressed so...so...formal." The prince stammered.

"What, these? Found 'em in th' closet in me room earlier an' I jus' had t' try 'em on!" Min replied, before making an awkward pirouette to better illustrate all sides of the ensemble, the hem of the dress lifting from the floor as she spun, shewing Gyllen a glimpse of her high-heeled sandals underneath. "Surprised they had any in me size too! D'ya not think they suit?"

"Oh, not at all! I just never knew you had an interest in fashion."

"Mate, when am I ever not fashionable~?" The redhead puffed out her chest, making the human roll his eyes. "Anyway, let's shimmy. It looks like things are about due t' get goin'. I've been savin' ya a spot for th' past half hour." Min then grabbed Gyllen by his wrist and scurried towards the leftmost table on with the boy in tow struggling to keep up before dropping down onto a vacant pillow, taking the prince with her on her descent, his tush crashing harmlessly onto the cushion next to hers. With the goblin on his right and a stern, unmindful lady with the physiognomy of a golden eagle to his left, Gyllen had little else to do but sit speculating what to expect from a djinni's dinner.

The prince was not required to wait for long however, as a deafening silence suddenly befell the jovial atmosphere of the entire hall. Frantically looking around themselves in confusion to find the cause of this abrupt stillness, Gyllen and Min both noticed every eye in the room (for those who possessed at least one visible eye) were all trained towards the triad of thrones that overlooked the chamber, to which the pair quickly turned their own heads over in time to see a familiar purple cloud manifesting upon the centremost seat, quickly forming into a humanoid shape before dissipating away utterly and leaving Jumishat alone sat upon it, her amethyst flesh coruscating even more incandescent by the spherical chandelier than it had in the sun hours earlier, and her lips still curled into the same cordial smile she had sported from when she had first greeted the human and goblin as if it was a permanent fixture of her features.

"Cherished compatriots, dearest advocates and most recent acquaintances, your mistress of ceremonies has arrived~" The queen of the djinn began to expound as she gesticulated with large, sweeping motions. "Welcome, one and all! Let my appreciation be known to each of you who were able to attend this celebration of transition as we bid farewell to the Second Spring and usher in the First of Parched Land! But before we begin the fete proper, allow me to take this opportunity to introduce my beloved heirs as they join us on this sacred eve. Regard them with gentility as you would do with me. Come hither, Azraq! Reveal thyself, Yaqut!"

Jumishat thrust her arms wide open and extended them out to either side in time for two clouds of smoke hiss into the chamber from thin slots near the ceiling that had gone unnoticed by the prince until now. They resembled Jumishat's own vaporous form, but instead of either of them being a rich purple colouration as her own, one of the billows was as deep a blue as the remotest oceans, and the other was as vivid a scarlet as blood from a freshly incised wound. The two wisps quickly swirled their way downwards until they landed onto the cushions of the vacant thrones, upon which they billowed vertically both ways, remoulding into a the vague outline of a hominid before dispersing, leaving an additional pair of djinn seated upon a chair each in their wake!

To the Queen's left sat a bare-chested male with one leg resting over the other - his skin sapphire like solidified midnight, with flames of a lighter hue streaming from his crown and parting at his forehead to run down either side of his face before stopping short at about chin-level, ending in two trenchant corners, somewhat resembling a blazing bob cut -- and perched to her right was a girl as red as purest rubies with her legs crossed in a lotus position, her own crimson head-flames pulled back and bunched within three golden bands to run down the entire length of her spine like a type of ponytail. That was about to the extent where the difference between the pair ended however, as their faces were exact duplicates to one another and could have easily passed themselves off as identical barring the obvious divergence in gender and epidermis, bearing resemblance to their mother's own fair features, albeit with a more youthful air about their miens, looking close to Gyllen's age even though they must have been centuries, if not millennia, his senior!

The offspring were noticeably shorter compared to their matriarch, though still of equal height to one another with similar slight, bough-like builds, though neither were anywhere near as full-figured as Jumishat. The scions at least shared their progenitors unfaltering, winsome smirk and both wore a wide variety of accessories on their ears, digits and wrist; ultra-fine veils across their mouths and semi-transparent sirwals on their legs, each dyed to contrast with the tone of their wearer's complexion: burning orange for the cobalt boy, and leafy chartreuse for the vermilion female, the latter additionally wearing a short-cut vest to hold her perky bust.

"And now, without any further ado, let us make merry this night! Remember to shew courtesy to thy neighbours, and gratitude to the land for gifting us with Her generous bounty...but above all else, enjoy yourselves!" Jumishat concluded her speech by clapping her hands together once, which appeared to signal for several platters worth of exotic cuisine to suddenly rise upwards through the tablecloths like phantom comestibles. Almost every last inch of available space on the rings was now covered with crockery holding a plethora of unfamiliar fruit, meats, salads, cheese, pastries and combinations thereof which the guests began tucking into straight away with gusto. Even Min hardly hesitated when it came to sampling the spread, gorging down on anything within her short reach, vocalising with every mouthful consumed that did not sound wholly unlike the noises Gyllen heard her make through the walls when they first discovered their accommodation.

"Gyl! Ya seriously gotta try some a' this grub!" Min said with her cheeks stuffed to capacity before promptly returning to chewing. Gyllen looked to the piggish goblin, then down to the buffet lain before him, unsure where to begin. As there was no cutlery available, the prince reached with his empty fingers and picked out a small pinkish cutlet, half-expecting his hand to phase right through it from the way it had emerged, but found it to be just as solid as the ground beneath his bottom. The human brought the morsel to his mouth and took a cautious nibble from off its edge, but even that minor bite was enough to send his tastebuds tingling with an agreeable, piquant flavour, the likes of which he had ever had before. Gyllen heartily wolfed down the remainder of the slice and immediately set out to try as much items from off the table as he could possibly manage.