Whereabouts

Dorma awoke with a start, gasping as she rose to a peculiar sight--instead of a dismal, Dragon-infested peninsula, she was greeted by a room of blinding silver, and found herself in the company of lavish pillows and sheets. The softness of the bed was almost comfortable enough to lull her back into a deep slumber, but resisting the urge to rest, she quickly pulled the duvet aside and leapt to her unsteady feet. The feeling of powerlessness which assaulted her body, an after-effect of her tremendous mana usage, forced Dorma to balance herself on the bedside cabinet. She had been changed into some plain, loose-fitting clothes, with her robe and hat arranged neatly on a nearby chair. Moving towards the bedroom's single door, she nearly fell over as the handle slipped away from her grasp, having already been pulled down by a visitor. As the door opened, a young Elf girl carrying a meal recoiled as she saw someone standing in the doorway.

"O-Oh… so you were up." Hastily balancing her tray, the Elf blinked, "Are you feeling alright?"

"An Elf…?" She muttered, clutching her head, "Where is this?"

"This is Aelf'ahlnohma, the homeland of our people." She answered, "Her Majesty informed me that this isn't your first visit, so I won't bother you with the specifics."

"The Elven capital?" Straightening her posture, Dorma turned her head to admire the unbelievable craftsmanship of the room's architecture, "...Are Yula and Lotte here, too?"

"Your comrades were also rescued. Although, they haven't woken up yet." The Elf replied, "Are you feeling well enough to eat? I was instructed to bring you a meal in case you were awake."

"That would be lovely. Please, come in." Stepping aside to allow the Elf room, the two of them made their way to the room's immodest, gold-trimmed suite. The tray was flurried with exotic dishes--meat from monsters native to the Aelven Weald, herbal soups and magically-grown vegetables. Elves placed a great deal of pride in their resourcefulness, though despite the silver city's graceful culture, its cuisine wasn't always the most appetising to a human palate.

"My name is Din. I'm Her Majesty's handmaiden." Lowering her head, the Elf introduced herself, "I've only had this position for a few weeks, so please forgive me if I don't show you the proper respect."

"Don't worry yourself. Very little offends me these days." Dorma waved off, "...Then, those spears of magic we saw during the battle…"

"Our scouts reported seeing a small army of humans camping just outside of the peninsula a few days ago." Din explained, "Her Majesty assumed Tor had begun its march against Tiamat after losing Shulm, and so departed with a number of mages to lend her support. It seems they arrived just in time, considering the circumstances leading up to your collapse."

"That's right. We…" Suddenly frowning, Dorma's eyes became fierce, "Does Tiamat still live?"

"She is incapacitated, for now. But her Dragons still plague the skies surrounding Shulm."

"So we pulled it off after all…" She sighed, sinking into her chair, "-But we don't have the upper hand quite yet. The Queen of Dragons will be flying again in a matter of months, if we're lucky."

"That's true." Din agreed, "I've spent most of my life away from Aelf'ahlnohma, so my knowledge about Demon Ages is a little scarce, but I know that Tiamat can't truly be killed without using the Hero's Sword of Light."

During her own travels 500 years ago, Tiamat had devastated almost the entirety of Tor before she was finally defeated. Emerging victorious from an early encounter with the Queen of Dragons, and without the aid of a Hero, to boot, was quite the feat. Even if she wasn't truly dead, halting the spread of destruction throughout the world was going to be much simpler with Tiamat out of the picture for however long her rebirth would take.

"If you're feeling well, then Her Majesty requested a meeting with you as soon as possible, Lady Dorma." Din began, "-Would you mind coming to the throne room once you've finished eating and getting dressed?"

"Of course. I won't be a minute."

Letting herself out of the room, Din left the healing sorcerer to her devices. All things considered, she had many reasons to be happy about her situation. Her comrades-in-arms were safe, Tiamat had been temporarily defeated, and the Anti-Demon Leagues had proven to be a magnificent success. But even so, her mind wandered to less pleasant thoughts. Like her weary partners, the events of 500 years ago had left deep scars. Death, despair--even 5 centuries after the fact, Dorma often found her nightmares plagued with the wailing faces of those she had failed to save during that time. Was such a tragedy really about to transpire once more? It was known by the Elves that the coming of the Demon King was cyclical--fated to repeat, but even their lofty archives hadn't survived each and every Demon Age. Just how many times had the world been choked by darkness? How many more ages was it destined to repeat?

What were they--her, Barion and Shilahi? Abstractions of a time gone by? Or, were they still the same fated saviours they had always been? Dorma didn't quite know if she had the willpower to endure another romp through the gore-soaked battlefields of her youth. As she finished her meal and changed into her sorcerer robes, she was reminded of her missing staff, sacrificed to ensure Tiamat's defeat, and sighed as she donned her wide-brimmed hat, stepping out into the silvered hallways of Aelf'ahlnohma's royal spire.

She had visited the city exactly once--when the fable of the 'Hero' had demanded it. Still, she was overwhelmed by the city's puritan beauty, admiring the view from the spire's many windows as she strolled to where she remembered, or perhaps just imagined, the throne room was. Of course, despite the longevity of her people, the previous Queen of Elves had passed since Dorma's last visit, leaving a new ruler--her only daughter, upon the throne. The thought reminded Dorma of a somewhat strange conversation she had shared with Barion during his surprise visit some time ago, but the intrusive thoughts entering her mind were quickly waved away as she crossed over the grand hallway which preceded the spire's throne room.

It appeared like the illustrious Queen of Elves wasn't holding court that day, with how empty the decorated chamber was. As Dorma entered, the masked woman who sat upon Aelf'ahlnohma's throne was quick to dismiss the spear-wielding guardsmen standing at attention in the room, leaving only the two of them, alongside the Queen's lady-in-waiting, Din, occupying the grand hall. Dorma wasn't one to bow, but she had developed a great respect for the previous Queen during her time in Aelf'ahlnohma, and thought it was only polite to show the same courtesy to the woman's only daughter.

"Please, do not lower your head." The Queen requested humbly, "If anything, I should be prostrating myself before you, Lady Dorma."

"Her Majesty's words are too kind." The sorcerer replied, "I must offer my thanks to you for rescuing my comrades, however. To go as far as housing them within this sacred, hidden city is a decision I shall remain eternally grateful for."

"It is only natural that I would extend the invitation." She proclaimed, "After all, it was my own mother who once sheltered you and your comrades from the horrors of the Aelven Weald, was it not?"

"You-" Stammering, Dorma suddenly found herself a little on-edge, "You know of that?"

"Of course. Truth be told, I was ecstatic at the opportunity to meet you, Lady Dorma. The stories of your exploits during the previous Demon Age comforted me during many a fearful night in the days of my youth." Beneath her all-encompassing crown, a warm smile appeared on the Queen's face, "Why, were it not for your efforts, it is unlikely that Aelf'ahlnohma would have been spared from darkness. No words can express my gratitude, and neither can any gift or title be worthy of your exploits. For as long as you remain here, no expense will be spared in ensuring your comfort."

"You may be surprised to hear that I'm not the only 'Hero' to have paid a visit to Aelf'ahlnohma recently." Dorma smirked, "Although, I don't think Barion was in any rush to speak with you."

"Yes. It is unfortunate. I was…" For an instant, the Queen paused, "-interested, in meeting him."

Gesturing towards her handmaiden, she continued, "As it happens, Din was travelling with him at that time. The two of them were successful in liberating a number of slaves from Shulm, whom they returned safely to the city. It's how we came to meet."

Dorma was surprised, "You travelled with Barion, Din?"

"I did. He never mentioned anything about being the Legendary Hero, however." Crossing her arms, the girl seemed somewhat displeased by the question, "Although, considering some of the things he did, I'm surprised I didn't piece it together myself. He doesn't hide it well, in retrospect."

"That does sound like him."

"Actually, one of the last things he said to me was that he wanted to visit an old friend of his." Din finished, "-I suppose that person was you?"

"Correct. It's a small world, isn't it?"

"He gave me a magical hairpin that supposedly used to belong to you. It can record sounds." She replied, "You wouldn't happen to want it back, would you?"

"What, that old thing!?" Giggling, Dorma waved her hand, "I can't believe he still had it after all this time!"

"He did tell me you would say those words exactly."

"Ah- he didn't try to harass you or anything, did he?" Dorma's expression turned sour, "I know what he can be like sometimes."

"Not directly."

"That isn't quite the answer I was hoping for…"

Recovering her composure and clearing her throat, Dorma realised she was still in the presence of royalty, and turned her attention back to the queen.

"In any case-" She began, "Is there anything in particular you wanted to speak to me about, Your Majesty?"

"As a matter of fact, I wished to discuss a matter of great importance." The monarch in question answered. As she rose from her throne and descended the short, carpeted staircase, the Queen placed a conflicted hand upon her chest, losing herself in thought before raising her head to address Dorma directly.

"Aelf'ahlnohma wishes to form an open alliance with Tor."