He arrived within half a day, at the gates of Nashaki. Flying high over the desert, farther than any arrow could reasonably reach him, he traveled unmolested through the sands of Nashaki, watching as the little people moved beneath him, in caravans, in clans, in scattered groups like rat stoor on the dirt. He only spared these groups a fleeting glance before riding on ahead of them with his dragonling. At times, flying by himself, at others reclining on the comfortable saddle of his companion. The creature was faster than he, which did make him slightly envious. But the fact that Chryseus was his at least alleviated some of his jealousy at the idea of anyone being faster on the wing than he.
At any rate, he arrived at the gates, and there descended before the ground. He had no wish to trespass or cause trouble here, while here. He only had a mind to look at what the storied city of the desert had to offer.
The guards spared him a glance, and then waved him in. It was almost too casual the way they treated him. Yet, he tilted his chin upward, and moved past them. All around, there were eyes upon him. His glorious coloration and strange glow. Kalortah couldn't blame them. It would be hard to ignore such grand beauty. He didn't think that any avriel, whether mortalborn or no, had golden feathers, afterall. And if they did, they surely weren't rich enough to afford the rich fabrics that he wore now.
His green eyes took in the surrounding city folk. Unfortunately for him, he'd arrived at a slightly less affluent neighborhood, it seemed. He probably should've done some scouting ahead of time to determine which of the gates led to the richer district. But as it was, he simply enjoyed the walk, travelling alongside his dragonling. The creature nuzzled his shoulder briefly, signalling that it was getting restless. "Go on Chryseus, have a look around."
Chryseus cooed happily at him, and then took off into the air, flashing its brilliant wings as he lifted off. Leaving Kalortah alone for the moment.
Kalortah's eyes took in the area around him, wondering if there was anything worth salvaging in this section of the city. Children began approaching, getting curious now. Kalortah snapped his tongue at them, cruelly cursing them in Lorien. This had the effect of scattering the beggars. At the sound of his Lorien tongue, however, there appeared in the corner of his eye, a sudden show of color on a distant rooftop. He turned slowly to look at what that blue color was. But by the time his eyes hit upon it, whatever had made the silhouette was gone.
“THIEF!” The words were shouted, and Kalortah’s hands shot to his satchel, wondering if he should guard his belongings. After a moment, the panic subsided, and nobody could locate where the voice had come from.
Eventually, he made his way through the main thoroughfare in the center of the city, around the Spires. Along the way, his hand grazed the satchel once more, but this time found the cold gooseflesh of a hand trying its luck in his pocket.
Before he could grasp the hand, it flew away with a trinket.
“What! How dare you steal from the Voice of Calamity!” Kalortah cried, and gave chase.
But this was no ordinary thief. It was an avriel, and she took flight almost as soon as she had filched the copper-gold band from his pocket.
He gave chase, flying after her. She tried to fly low over the buildings, in hopes that she would tempt him to greater heights and lose him among the lower elevations.
Kalortah was familiar with that trick, being an expert at flight himself. He was not fooled, and managed to dive down, intercepting her and knocking her out of the sky as he grappled in mid-air with her.
They landed, he mangling her wings along the way, rendering them sprained and unable to fly. They both landed in the dust, in a well-trafficked alley. Before she could run away on foot, he already had his sword out, and pointed toward her.
Kalortah held his blade, pointed directly beneath her chin as he tilted her head upward, with the slightest flick of his wrist, touching the flat of the adamant blade against the soft skin under her mandible. She was pretty enough, but then, most avriel that still bore their feathers were near perfect examples of beauty. She had dark blue feathers, with a greenish opalescence to them. It was no doubt a benefit to her, here in this city scape that so rarely saw rain, to blend in with the blue skies above.
Kalortah asked her name, using their shared tongue of Lorien as the street sweepings pretended not to look. “Lotema.”
“I couldn’t hear that. Could you say that again?” Kalortah rolled his words, a silent threat evident in his tone.
“Lotema!” She said.
Presently the guards came. Kalortah still held her at blade point, the copper trinket still clutched between her fingers. “The guardsmen looked from Kalortah to her, and frowned, “Pardon, is this the one who cried thief?”
Kalortah shook his head, without taking his eyes off of Lotema. “No, she did. As a distraction.” He replied to him in common. “I suppose it was meant to prompt me to check my most precious belongings. Then she struck, and tried to fly off. Clearly she was not quick enough.”
Kalortah’s lips twisted into a cruel smile, as he regarded the little thief.
“Shall we apprehend her, eminence?” They asked him, taking his show of wealth as a sign of status and thus giving the proper amount of respect.
Kalortah thought about it a moment. What a waste it would be, to lose such a skilled sneak? He actually could use people like her, to do his bidding. He thought about the Phoenix Urn, wasting away in his Tower in Scalvoristown, under the stewardship of his traitor family. His green eyes flashed in irritation at the very idea of them living in the lap of luxury, at his expense. He could use someone like her… to steal back what was his.
“She will be coming with me.” Kalortah stated with condidence that was difficult for the men to deny. “She belongs to me now.”
The guards glanced uncetainly at Kalortah, but then bowed their heads. “As you wish. Take her in chains, or in rope, but she must leave. We will not abide thieves in our city.”
“She will come willingly. She cannot run from me.” Kalortah said, waving off the offer of bindings.
So saying, he bid her to rise, and then sheathing his sword, grasped her by the upper arm.
They made their way out of Nashaki. And while Kalortah hadn’t found as much of the treasure he’d thought to see in this city, he’d found something that might prove even more valuable.