The Quiet Hall

Rafeza, the jewel and capital of Erevara, lay ensconced in dense jungles and serpentine rivers, a wonder of artistry. Sandstone buildings with domed roofs and slender minarets shone softly in the light of inlaid crystals. The streets, laid with blocks of polished stone, curved through bustling markets where colorful fabrics cascaded over the stalls, and voices intertwined in a cacophony of chatter.

Bioelectric-powered ornate lamps lined the pathways, casting a warm, golden glow. 

In the center of that city was a great, palatial house; its majesty was unlike anything ever seen by mortal men. Great minarets pointed at the sky like needles reaching for the heavens, water gardens hang from its terrace: glittering rivulets cascading down, sparkling with moonlight that adorned this residence.

In the very center of the palace, beneath a great glass dome, was an enchanted square garden bathed in moonlight. The exotic plants of all colors flourished, and the gurgling of water somewhere from the hidden fountains filled the quiet space. 

From the garden's edge, shadows shifted unnaturally, growing out like liquid darkness until they formed a cloaked and masked figure. 

The shadow condensed taking shape and revealing a slender woman. The women exhaled deeply as though emerging from suffocating confines. She pulled back her hood, revealing her wavy black hair, faintly glowing with an emerald glow. She tore off her mask, tossing it aside and combing her hair back with her fingers. Her fair face bore an otherworldly beauty, her features bathed by the ethereal green hue.

With a step forward, the shadows that clung to her fell away, and she was robed in a dazzling emerald green. It was a masterfully crafted dress, its split skirt swinging elegantly with her as she moved, showing her legs at each step. The bodice was fitted but soft and flowing, embracing her form, while its detailed patterns were like the vines in a jungle.

Her back, bare and striking, was adorned with faintly glowing marks etched in calligraphic symmetry, as if the very essence of the jungle had imprinted itself upon her skin. The markings glowed weakly, giving out an almost hypnotic aura that contrasted with the vibrancy of her outfit.

Her heels clicked on the marble floors, the echo of each step reverberating through brightly lit corridors. 

Soon, the garden faded into the background, replaced by sleek glowing lights and walls that gleamed with an almost ethereal sheen.

Her glowing marks shimmered faintly with every movement, and her luminescent hair seemed to ripple like liquid light, leaving a subtle trail of presence behind her.

She continued her stride, the heels of her shoes clicking against the marble floor. As she walked, waiters, chefs, dancers, and guards passed by and all bowed slightly to her before returning to their work. To each she offered each a curt nod in return, her expression remained unchanged as she maintained a steady pace. 

Soon, she came before the entrance to a grand hallway-its sheer scale and ornate details momentarily left her in a daze.

She sighed softly while mentally shaking her head. "No matter how many times I come here, this place always manages to make me feel so… small," she murmured, her voice carrying a mix of awe.

And at the other end of the hall, an enormous door, a work of art, stood glittering with inlaid white marble and delicate tracings of gold, reflecting dim light.

The door exuded an air of divinity, as though it led to heaven itself. Guarding this magnificent gate were two imposing figures.

The first was an older man with a beard and hair as grey as ash, his demeanor stoic and unreadable. The second, slightly younger but still older than her by at least a decade, had an air of quiet strength. Both were giants, standing at 2.1 meters, their heavy armor radiating an almost unnatural presence. 

Their armor gleamed faintly, perfectly fitted to their immense physiques, but they bore no visible weapons. As she approached, both men shifted their gaze to meet hers, their golden eyes piercing through her composure like daggers. Their stare made her tense instinctively, a tiny bead of sweat forming at her temple.

With that said, she stopped a few paces before them and with a courtly bow she said. "I request an audience of his majesty the king. I have matters to report" She spoke while keeping the tension in.

The two guards didn't say a word, but their eyes stayed on her, unwavering, for some agonizing moments. She could feel the weight of their gaze, like peeling back the layers of her mind. Just when the silence was about to stretch unbearably, they moved. In perfect unison, they stepped aside, their massive forms still imposing. Each reached out a hand to the enormous doors and, with one light shove, opened them. The movement was illogical—doors that size should have creaked and groaned under their weight—but they moved noiselessly.

The woman let her breath out in a quiet sigh as she straightened, taking the gesture for permission to proceed. She stepped further into the vast room beyond, and her senses were at once smothered by its peculiar atmosphere. A gauzy, transparent veil draped the chamber, its silken folds catching the faint moonlight filtering in through unseen apertures. The light wasn't bright but was dim, soothing, casting the room in a dreamlike way.

Shadows clung to the space, gently embracing her as though offering comfort. The chill in the air was crisp and seeped in through her skin, washing away her tension and quieting the storm in her mind. 

The room was smaller than the grand hallway she had just passed but still vast, large enough to hold five hundred people with space to spare. 

Translucent silk curtains hung from the high ceiling, swaying softly with the breeze. The air carried a sense of tranquility.. so deep it threatened to weaken her knees, a silent invitation to surrender to it.. Yet she refused to let the serene atmosphere lull her.

After several long strides, she approached a wide staircase that ascended toward a grand throne. On either side of the throne were vast, open spaces, framed by towering arches that let in a gentle breeze. The throne itself was an imposing structure, shrouded in shadow, and the figure seated upon it was barely discernible. Not that she dared to lift her gaze to look directly at him. Her legs folded beneath her as she sank to her knees, bowing deeply until her forehead nearly touched the floor.

"This humble servant greets the King," she said, her voice reverent yet steady.

From the shadows of the throne, the figure moved, tapping his fingers against the armrest. Glowing purple lines ran across his exposed abdomen, glowing faintly with an enigmatic energy. Though simple in design, the marks radiated an inexplicable weight.

"Speak," the figure commanded, his voice seemed to come not from his mouth but from above as though the heavens were speaking for him.

The woman exhaled deeply, steadying herself even as she remained bowed. Finally, she spoke, her voice firm but tinged with urgency.

"Ava Blanton… she is captured."