2407 Crescin 19, Reshpe

The clouds had changed from thin strips to thick, fluffy sheets in the time Ariden had spent inside this stupid room. A few paces from the desk he perched on, a scholar dawdled on and on about trade and economy. Ariden resisted rolling his eyes. Was there anyone fond of sitting in one place for hours and passively drinking knowledge in? Besides, where in his life would he even use this lecture?

His father might beg to differ, at least. Being the Potentate, the highest ruling body in the Earth Sprite territory, Avalora, he actually had somewhere to use these lessons for. Now, with Ariden next in line in taking up that mantle, it wasn't a far-off possibility.

A sigh filtered off his lips, a silent breeze to avoid detection from the scholar. He didn't even know who he was speaking to. The Potentate insisted on changing lecturers on a weekly basis and had them talk about different things. Ariden had long ago given up trying to remember anything about them—including the things they've taught.

As per schedule, Ariden dragged himself to this room and stared out of the open windows, studying the sky and its varying patterns. At least it was interesting, despite how slow they seemed to be. Time was lost to Ariden's senses and his rear began to feel stiff. He needed to walk this off. Maybe later. After lunch, maybe?

His gaze flitted towards the sky again, after briefly checking if the scholar still wasn't noticing he wasn't listening at all. These clouds had it easy, didn't they? Just zip through the sky, collect enough moisture from the soil, get heavy and gray, and let everything out back to where one got it from. Most people would cheer at the prospect of rain, even praising the gods for something they didn't do. Only when the rain got too much when people started complaining.

What about Ariden, then? Where was he headed? Was he making a difference by just sitting inside a musty lecture room, wasting away in the three-story manor that's supposed to be Avalora's seat of power? Because right now, he was as good as a parasite siphoning his livelihood off his people's versallis. He wasn't doing anything note-worthy nor was he helping anyone. Even the girl in the Temple was doing a lot more than him.

Heat flared in his cheeks at the sudden intrusion of the girl into his thoughts. He swallowed against the growing lump in his throat. He didn't even know her name. Since he saw her running around in the Temple of Earth's decorated halls, her blond hair flapping in the wind and her angular features fixed into a passive frown, he hadn't been able to forget her. She didn't even know him, and if she did, she probably thought of him as some unreachable ledge. Under no circumstances would they operate in the same sphere.

Soon, much to Ariden's relief, the lecture finished and he was kicked out of the room, albeit in the most respectful way filled with head bowing and profuse thanks. Ariden bobbed his head along and escaped the awkward interaction by ducking into the next corner in a few long strides.

He only let his sigh rip through his lips when the scholar's form disappeared in the opposite corner he was in. It was no doubt leading to the Potentate's office. He waited a few minutes more, resting his head against the marble wall's smooth surface, letting the lingering cold seep through his scalp. When he deemed it alright, he pushed off the wall and sauntered deeper into his chosen corridor, taking the way to take him straight into lunch.

When the contents of the fairy potion he pilfered from the kitchen disappeared without an aftertaste down his throat, he mussed his nape-length hair. A wince crept into his face. His hair used to be longer and, with it being sheared off lately, left his neck exposed. He kind of missed having a little tail bouncing off from its twine and against his back with every step he took.

But sadly, purification rituals require males to have shorter hair for some absurd reasons. Still, Ariden couldn't not follow since...well, he's supposed to be the Crown Prince. Insane, right?

His feet soon took him out of the palace ground, past the tall wall circling the compound. On the horizon, Ariden spied the Municipal, a one-story building where the Court Advisers and other important people he couldn't name work. A large garden spanned the space between the palace and the wall, boasting a plethora of colorful flowers, towering trees, and buzzing pollinating insects.

The sun shone down upon Ariden as he tore through the garden, unseeing. It was something he saw every day the gods gave them. There wasn't anything new, just perhaps a new blossom erupted or a branch fell off during the night. Earth Sprites dressed in plain olive pilzai passed Ariden by, giving him a brief nod to whom he returned to gesture. They were the ones responsible for tending to the garden and ensuring everything was blooming as intended. Incidentally, they were also the ambassadors in charge of welcoming guests with official business with the Palace or the Municipal.

His hands rubbed the metal ring holding up his own pilzai against his shoulder. Unlike the fairies he had just passed, he was prone to wearing a long-sleeved tunic and a pair of trousers underneath. The only reason he had was it gives more room for him to store and carry things while keeping his hands free.

Once he cleared the thick wall with nothing but a quick nod to the sentries posted in one of the four cardinal entrances, he stepped into the city that was Otralo. Not that the Palace wasn't in Otralo. He just preferred to refer to them that way. Made life more interesting.

The streets bustled almost according to schedule. As Ariden passed by, nobody gave him special attention. Not everyone noticed him coming out of the Palace and certainly not everyone would be able to tell him apart from all the faces and bodies zipping from one place to another in a blink. That's what he relied on every time he visited the city proper and saw for himself what the scholars only droned about.

Tamus, Avalora's version of cart-pulling animals and a distant cousin of the dagrine, grunted as they ambled down the lane prescribed to them and the carts they pulled. Merchants dressed in their colorful robes and coats either sat on the coaches or were found on the side of the road, feeding their animals from buckets of straw or easing their thirst with water from wells scattered around the city.

Shops bearing all kinds of signages and names flanked the streets, guiding the sinuous twists and turns with their sturdy, brick walls. Earth Sprites, as well as other fairy races, scampered around in a chorus of hurried footsteps and rustling clothes. Ariden stepped out of the way of a hurrying man. The Vhun had his eyes on the cobblestones to even thank Ariden for giving the berth.

Ariden spotted another corner veering away from the main and perhaps the busiest road and came up with a dimmer but emptier street. Unlike the main road which came around the palace and continued into the well-known trade routes like the Jewel Route and the Quarry Path, this one led to the outskirts of Otralo where no one bothered to go unless they had specific businesses inside.

Not Ariden, though. He just wanted the right amount of background noise in order to clear his head. The main road was too hazy and the Palace was too quiet. So, he had to make do with these streets. The soles of his sandals scratched against the cobblestones, stirring dirt as he went along.

Soon, the smell of freshly baked bread filled his nose. He must be nearing a bakery. At some point in his pointless journey, the smell of incense used only in the weekly rituals replaced the dominant scent. On other instances, it was the smell of upturned dirt and processed manure.

Ariden glanced up at the sky. How long was he walking around? The lefts and rights he took had already been erased in his mind. He couldn't walk all the way to Jehnasson now, could he? Not with the sun almost setting.

His shoulder flew backwards as a heavy weight slammed into it. He knitted his eyebrows and looked back to see a short boy breezing past him. What's his deal? Could he have stepped out of the way if he saw Ariden coming? Why the need to bump into him? Where did he even come from?

Ariden clicked his tongue, annoyance rippling at the surface of his skin. He looked behind him again, watching the boy's crimson mop of hair bounce atop his head with each step he took. Ariden's instincts flared for unknown reasons. That bump wasn't random. He watched how the boy seemed to clear the way just fine with other passing pedestrians.

Then, it hit him. Ariden felt the pockets of his trousers. The once-bulging weight against his leg was gone, leaving the space deflated and, well...empty. Xyndall's asscheeks. It's a robbery.