Emisarry Of Time And Space Chapter 211 212: Humans.

(A/N Many thanks to all for the Power Stones and Golden Tickets; they are greatly appreciated. As always, feel free to leave comments or reviews. Enjoy!)

Power Stones, give them to me.

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"So I've heard you're seeking a companion," Falad remarked.

"Yes. Can you offer assistance?" Seris inquired, allowing a subtle hint of strain into her voice—enough to convey sincerity without appearing desperate.

Falad gave a soft chuckle. "Calm yourself. Tala wouldn't have directed you to me if he doubted my ability to help."

As he spoke, Seris seized the moment to scrutinize him more thoroughly. Falad was, for lack of a better term, opulent. While of average height for a Sylgrid, his rounded physique suggested a life of comfort rather than excessive indulgence. His attire was peculiar—multiple layers of form-fitting, textured cloth that conveyed an air of both ceremony and practicality, as if designed for prolonged wear without discomfort. His uniquely shaped ears were adorned with numerous rings and piercings, each distinct, likely indicating his standing or affiliations. A neat, small brown mustache graced his upper lip, bestowing upon him a surprisingly dignified demeanor.

He bore a resemblance to the Sylgrid they had encountered earlier near the Ruk, but this individual was better nourished, refined, and undeniably influential.

This fact immediately sparked a question in Seris's mind.

Why was he alone?

Individuals of apparent significance rarely traveled without protection, especially within a capital city fraught with tension and under intense security measures. Seris subtly extended her spatial awareness, carefully probing for any hidden defenses without revealing her intentions.

No one else was detected in the vicinity.

No guards lay in ambush. No lurking presences were felt.

This suggested either Falad possessed exceptional confidence in his own capabilities, or the capital itself provided such robust security that he deemed personal escorts unnecessary. Seris noted this observation without comment.

"There is nothing that enters this capital that escapes my attention," Falad continued, clearly relishing the situation. "I am indebted to Tala, so rest assured—I will find your friend."

"Thank you," Seris replied, offering a slight bow of her head.

"Excellent. Then let us proceed inside. You can elaborate on your friend's identity once we are settled," Falad stated, already turning and gesturing for them to follow.

"You have an alternative route in?" Erevan interjected, deliberately picking up the conversation's thread.

Seris appreciated the opportune timing. If she remained the sole speaker, it would eventually attract unwanted notice.

Falad glanced back over his shoulder with a smile. "Naturally. You wouldn't be the first to attempt entry into the capital undetected. Many have tried." He gave a short laugh. "Most were unsuccessful."

Seris exchanged a swift glance with Arlen.

He perceived her meaning immediately.

"I still fail to grasp how one couldn't simply blend in with the thousands entering," Arlen commented, exhaling softly. "It seems almost straightforward."

Falad's laughter subsided somewhat. "That is a perilous assumption, my friend. Underestimating the Sylgrid has led many to unfortunate fates. If you are apprehended, the repercussions are... dire."

"Even now?" Arlen pressed. "With such a large influx of people?"

Falad nodded, his voice lowering slightly. "Especially now."

Seris tilted her head, feigning mild inquisitiveness. "Tala alluded to a significant event approaching, but he offered no details."

Falad laughed again, though with less amusement this time. "He acted wisely in not elaborating. It is not information intended for casual dissemination—particularly not to outsiders."

They continued their trek for another thirty minutes, gradually moving away from the primary thoroughfares. The surrounding forest grew more dense, its roots coiling across the ground like dormant serpents. Sunlight struggled to penetrate the thick canopy, plunging the area into a dim, shadow-laden atmosphere.

Ahead, partially obscured by dense foliage, a wall came into view.

Falad halted.

He turned to face them, his expression shifting to one of seriousness for the first time since their encounter.

"We are about to gain entry into the capital," he announced. "Therefore, I will be candid with you."

They listened intently, offering no interruption.

"No Sylgrid will discuss the ongoing occasion with you; in fact, many are unaware of its specifics. However, it is of paramount importance—critical, even—and security is at its highest level in decades."

His gaze moved deliberately across each of them.

"The sole reason I am prepared to facilitate your clandestine entry at such a juncture is the obligation Tala owes me. For him to expend it on your behalf signifies his profound trust in you. I shall extend the same courtesy—but understand this." His tone grew stern. "Trust holds little value when the consequence of failure is death."

This warning was not an exaggeration; it was a stark statement of fact.

"I expect strict discipline," Falad continued. "Discretion. And unwavering obedience. Should you adhere to my guidance, you may depart this city alive. And perhaps, locate your missing friend."

Everyone nodded in agreement.

"Excellent," Falad declared.

Reaching into a pouch integrated into his attire, he produced a small, verdant gem. This gem emitted a faint, internal luminescence. He then carefully inserted it into a shallow indentation in the stone wall.

A soft hissing sound ensued.

The stonework moved with an uncanny silence, parting just enough to reveal an opening. Without a moment's hesitation, Falad stepped through.

The others followed, their spatial awareness heightened to its maximum setting.

Beyond the wall was a passageway.

It was constricted, smooth to the touch, and plunged into absolute darkness. Falad lifted the gem, which instantly brightened, casting a subdued green illumination that barely pierced the gloom ahead.

Silence enveloped them.

Only the faint echo of their footsteps resonated through the corridor.

The tunnel forked multiple times, splintering into various routes. With each junction, Falad navigated unerringly, his movements betraying a practiced familiarity with the path. It was evident that this was not his initial journey through this secret way.

After approximately another thirty minutes, a discernible alteration occurred.

A faint glow materialized in the distance.

It was golden.

And warm.

Reminiscent of daylight.

Their progression quickened somewhat. Soon, auditory cues reached them—the murmur of voices, the sounds of negotiation, peals of laughter, and the distinct thrum of commerce.

They halted before a curtain fashioned from beads, hanging at the terminus of the tunnel.

Falad drew the beaded curtain aside and advanced.

They found themselves in a merchant's stall.

The immediate shift was striking. Brightly illuminated shelves adorned the walls, laden with intricately carved ornaments, fragments of jade, finely woven textiles, and implements of unknown function. The boisterous clamor of the capital city reached them from beyond, muted yet persistent.

Falad guided them further into the establishment, away from the entrance, until they arrived at a counter situated at the rear.

Another Sylgrid was present.

He looked up as they drew near, a single eyebrow arching slightly.

He seemed to understand.

"Falad," the Sylgrid addressed him plainly.

"Jak," Falad responded, placing a different gem upon the counter. This one was distinct, adorned with delicate etchings that shimmered in the light.

Jak accepted it without a word.

He was about to indicate that they should depart when his gaze shifted unexpectedly.

Brown skin.

He became momentarily still.

"Humans."