It had been in the making for weeks, Alexei remembered as he entered the Great Hall. Wide-eyed in amazement, he wandered around in the throng of his revelling elvenkin. Never before had he seen such a display, even among the grandest of the Balls at the Academy. The finest of silks adorned the walls, draped down from the vaulted ceilings spanning well beyond the edge of eyesight. Walls were lined with sconces bearing torches that burned an azure flame, the torches crafted thousands of leagues away. Alexei had heard among some of the merchants that over a thousand slaves had died to bring them to these Halls for this Ball, for once crafted, the torches deteriorate rapidly and are quickly unusable.
It was well worth the price, Alexei thought to himself.
One of a hundred, a shaved Human eunuch brushed by him, carrying a censer of fragrant incense, its soft tendrils of smoke swirling gently behind him. Alexei breathed in deeply, and noticed the traces of other scents that had become familiar to him on his recent visits here. The Dragon Herb, a hint of milk of the poppy, and a trace of the tarry black plant grown deep in the south. There were scores of other servants, he noticed, catering these to the noble guests with large gleaming serving trays and ornate pipes, harbingers of glee making their way through the incandescent blue fog that lay thick and omnipresent.
Alexei made his way around the vast chamber slowly and deliberately, stopping only to enjoy the goods of a large number of the servants. Drinking from a jeweled platinum goblet, he felt a warm glow settle on his cheeks. The summerwine was light and tart, and potent, surely the finest vintage of the fertile South, perhaps even from the same master tradesman responsible for the black plant he had enjoyed. Whichever was providing these effects upon him, Alexei regarded the Southrons warmly this evening.
Atop an enormous alabaster dais located along one of the walls of the Main Chamber, the Imperial elvenchoir sang a melancholy tune lamenting the long Sleep of the Silver Lady. A full ensemble of the land's finest musicians had been commissioned for the BlueFeather Masque, both winds and strings, and they played in perfect harmony with the singers. Spellsingers created glorious light shows and illusions, phantom dragons and other horrific displays. Among them were a goodly amount of Academy-trained Bards, Alexei noted with pride. And, he also noticed with a wry smile, his friend and mentor, Dai'Makai. Alexei wondered if His Imperial Majesty was aware that an Irekei shared his Halls this evening. Somehow, he thought not, and was glad all the same of the distorting ambience that hid the true color of his friend's skin, even if his costume did the same.
At the thought of His Imperial Majesty, Alexei remembered that he had not presented himself, and strode off to set that right. Dodging in and out of those dancing, he made his way towards the Throne Room, adjacent to the Great Hall. The silkmerchants had become rich in recent weeks, Alexei decided. And the Alchemists. And the Wyrmslayers. And... Alexei laughed. Many had become rich in recent weeks for this celebration in honor of His Imperial Majesty. This was the greatest display of wealth and splendor he had ever seen in his life. The Emperor enjoyed life's creature comforts, and those of his subjects that provided it were well-compensated. As he neared the Emperor's dais, he paused to watch a Human Champion battling an adolescent wyrm for the pleasure of Majesty, he wondered if the stories were true regarding the legion that nearly perished to the man to return these wyrms. Whether the story was true or not, it was a magnificent display, and the Emperor Himself showered the Champion with praise when it was over. Such high honors, in fact, that the Emperor found it in his grace to spare the Champion a long series of appointments with the Torturemasters, and slew him Himself with one might stroke of his wicked, curved blade.
Alexei slipped in among the courtiers, all of whom were dressed in the same fashion as those in the Great Hall, but richer and more ornate. Tight, form-fitting suits made from exotic skins and hides, or sheer silk robes or gowns absent any modesty, masques ranging from the grotesque to the downright erotic, all in a rainbow of colours and plethora of textures. Already the servants were hastily busy clearing the aftermath of the display, and an elvenchoir and troupe of musicians were striking up the music. The crowd dispersed and coupled, and filled the Hall with Dance. The effects of the summerwine and black plant deepened their effect on Alexei, and he was caught unawares as he felt himself grabbed and turned.
The lips that found his were soft and welcoming, and Alexei was taken aback for a brief moment, but did not offer the slightest resistance. A century too soon, his captor broke out in laughter, a crystal laughter to rival even the purest of bells, the sound of icicles in the treetops.
"Your beak nearly put my eye out," she giggled, and played at being mortally wounded. Alexei had chosen a falcon mask in blue for the occasion; it commanded a fine price, but crafted to the highest standards and the finest of its type he had seen all evening. The masquer had advised against the beak, but Alexei had demanded it. He hated himself for it at that instant.
The lilac eyes, the proud cheekbones, the strong jawline, the ivory skin and the raven hair left no doubt of her bloodline. Aleana Comnena, daughter of his grandfather, the Basileus of House Comneni and Alexei's namesake. Alexei had met the Basileus once, but never spoke of the visit even when pressed, and had not been back to his maternal family's lands since. It was well known that the Comneni bloodline was among the purest in the Deathless Houses, and more often than not made unions within the House itself. The union between Alexei's mother and Cymyr Lok-ri, a Gwaridorn, caused a great amount of unrest in House Comneni, and the subsequent death of Aena during Alexei's birth was the source of a great deal more. The unrest settled, but it was made known through whisperings that Alexei had no welcome in those lands, and would be best served by helping the Comneni forget that he Ever Was.
Aleana was the exception. She was Alexei's junior by two years, and they had first met at Elvencourt some years back, merely by coincidence. But they had gotten along famously, and stole every moment they could together. The season wound on, and they frequently found new reasons to extend their stay at court. Their days were spent in the mountainous countryside, their nights in her vast estate at court. Yet, eventually the inevitable duties had called, and they were forced to returned to their respective lands. Corresponding by couriers or enterprising merchantfolk among caravans, ofttimes at great expense to protect their secret, the two continued to grow their relationship, and it what had started from a blood-bond and a youthful, reckless friendship evolved into something deeper, something so consuming that Alexei's feared he would go mad in her absence. In one such message, she mentioned that she would broach the subject of their meeting with her father. That was the last he heard from Aleana; his own messages went unanswered, and before long he stopped sending them altogether. A small, equisitely crafted locket given to him by his father contained a tiny painting of his mother, and he carried it with him always, and opened it often. The resemblance of Aleana to his mother was uncanny even back when they had first met; that was how he had recognized her. She was but a girl, then, Alexei realized. But not anymore.
Masqued as an owl, a flowing feathered cape and tunic, her slender arms and legs were the purest alabaster even in the denaturalizing light. And so they joined in the revelry, euphoric in their meeting, and they danced, the Falcon and the Owl. They talked some as they danced, and even at times Alexei broke out in song, sometimes in the Elder Tongue, othertimes not. Mostly they danced, contentedly gazing into the others' eyes. So blissful was this reunion that Alexei's duty of presenting himself to His Imperial Majesty on behalf of the Academy went unfulfilled and forgotten.
Alexei was not seen until the third morning following, when he joined the Royal Guard in the ritual morning Dance of Dawn on the fields. Going through the forms, gracious and precise, he observed the wane of the Silver Moon, and felt the first rays of the Sun on his face. The sweat had not even dried from his body afterwards when the guard in Academy livery approached, and informed Alexei of his father's urgent summons. They were to leave before noontide. Aleana was not in her quarters when Alexei arrived to give his sad farewells, and he would not see her again before his departure.
~~ Scribed under Bardic Recall by Dai'Makai, Bard of the Academy