He did not walk. He marched wherever he went. His long strides ate up the distance, and his purposeful gaze was fixed directly on Ellanor. Unfortunately for Ellanor, his destination was none other than herself.
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The Emir of Oroine was responsible for the governance of Island Oroine, the sixth of the twelve islands in the Estrin Archipelago. A bad-tempered, beetroot-faced man with a perpetual scowl, he was more important than the Governor of the Isle of Ostrov, and the Warden of the Dependency of Skála, equal in rank to the Emirs of the other minor islands - Dirite, Mine, Irite, Noroine, Ilyn, Oaryn, and Nyro - and subordinate to the Maleks of the major islands - Estrin, Astrin, Styrin, and Tyrin - as well as the Khaj of the Army, Warlord of the Waves, and the Sky Kharn. And, of course, the throne.
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The House of Estrin was far older than the Narcissian House of Ego, having been the ruling family of the Dominion since its foundation as a sovereign region of Empyrea in 698 YBP - making it 840 years old by this time.
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As Ellanor noticed, the Emir was visibly fuming for whatever reason, and he was definitely looking to take it out on her. His beetroot-red face was flushed with anger, and his eyes blazed with a fierce intensity.
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It was just then that she noticed the knife glinting in his hand. The man lunged forward with the knife pointed at her, looming to stab her. She reacted instinctively because of the self-defense training that EASP had put its members through. She grabbed the knife and had jammed it into his heart with a swift and decisive motion.
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The shock of what she had just done hit her like a falling airship. To make matters worse, the Malek of Estrin Island had witnessed the whole event. Only...he was smiling. His lips curled upward in a sly smile, and his eyes twinkled with amusement.
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"Very good, Ms Etatè," he said with a slight lisp. "This rabid lump of dead weight had the potential to become a risk to me, and you have dealt with my problem excellently."
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The prefect scrambled for words, but they evaded her. She stood there, frozen in shock and uncertainty.
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"I think that I will give you a gift that will benefit both of us," he said, his voice dripping with condescension. "You see, I am here in the East on the request of Khatun Xarai. Apparently, her son's wife is in need of a handmaiden. Gur Khani Jennifer Astrai Estrin-Romanakov will get on well with you, I am sure."
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The name and title struck a chord with Ellanor. The wife of Gur Khan Jiro was a Narcissian Baroness and the great-granddaughter of some Grand Vizier. This was an opportunity that she could not afford to waste.
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"I know what you are thinking," he said, his eyes glinting with mischief. she is the great-granddaughter of the Grand Vizier, Baroness Anastasia Narca Romanakov. You will leave for Estrin Island tomorrow, I have already arranged for a seat on an airship at twelve o'clock."
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And so Ellanor packed her bags with haste while her mind reeled with excitement and trepidation. As she did some final checks before departing, she heard a rustle at the window. She found no trace of a person having been there but for one thing: an envelope.
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It was snow white with a crimson seal that she did not recognize - a cracked compass. She carefully unsealed it with shaking hands. Her eyes widened in shock, and then awe as she read what was written in a neat script.
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Dear Miss Ellanor Etaté,
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It is a great pleasure for CATAE to reach out to thee to inform thee of an opportunity that ought not to be turned down. Informants have identified thee as the new Handmaiden to the wife of Gur Khan Jiro as of yesterday. This position means that thou can influence him directly as well as indirectly through his wife so that when the time comes, thou may carry out one of our missions.
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In return for thy cooperation, we would like to offer you...
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Ellanor tried to calm her quickening heart rate as she flipped the letter to read the other side.
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The following: The position of Guardian of the East and, therefore, a seat on the Assembly of the Sixteen Guardians. A guarantee that we will make thy dream of an Eastern region come true by helping with the formation of the Second Pheasantine Republic. And lastly, our protection until our mission is complete.
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All that we ask for in return is the death of Great Khagan Xantè of the Estrin Dominion of the Northwest and East. His cruel hand has brought suffering and despair to countless innocent souls, and his very existence is a blight upon the land.
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Please destroy this letter once it has been read. We entrust this message to thy discretion and confidence.
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Yours sincerely,
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The Guardians of the North, North-Northeast, Northeast, East-Northeast, East, East-Southeast, Southeast, South-Southeast, South, South-Southwest, Southwest, West-Southwest, West, West-Northwest, Northwest, and North-Northwest as well as the Shield of Empyrea.
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May the Star ✵ light thy way through these trying times.
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