The Market of Eterealm

   Ariana sat excitedly in her litter as she was being carried to the city market, struggling to conceal her excitement under a cool mask of composure. Her two brothers sat beside her, content in the peaceful silence inside the litter. It was nowhere near as silent outside, with the clatter of hooves and the shouts of merchants being ever-present under the golden sun, but she had by now accustomed herself to the sound, shutting it out. Like her brothers, she was wearing an embroidered red garment that marked her out as the daughter of a nobleman, a golden pattern on her shoulder assorting her to the Azkaran family beyond the Red Sea. She had been told that the people in these lands were not accustomed to the subtly dark complexions that were ubiquitous in her own nation, yet those that she had met conveyed the deepest of courtesy and respect, giving her faith that her day would be pleasant.

  The last time she had been allowed to visit a market was when she had been eight years of age, fully confident in her safety among the vast crowds. She had been heartbroken when her father declared that this was not to happen again. His stern voice still echoed in her mind. He had not given a reason, but later one of her maids explained that the shopkeeper at the store where she had purchased an amulet had been brutally murdered the subsequent night. There were rumours that the king had ordered the murder to regain the payment, but she would never believe that. It was more likely that others have beheld the excess golden coins she had given as a token of gratitude, and grown jealous.

  But that had been four years ago - an eternity past in another world. This was a different city in a different land, filled with people who could merely guess at her status. Thus, her father relented after no considerable pleading on her part, seeing no danger and eager to return to the matter of his summoning. He had been called to the High Lord's audience, but didn't bother to reveal why. She did not mind, though. Her mask of stillness slipped, and a smile graced her features, refusing to be restrained. But she let it stay. The occasion permitted it.

  Closing her eyes, Ariana let the crimson light of the litter permeate through her eyelids, fluctuating as she was carried by the appointed escort. She had began dozing off by the time the lulling motions of the litter ceased, and sat up with a politely concealed yawn when it did so, her eyes shimmering at the wonders she was to see behind the door. The litter was lowered on the ground and one of the guards appointed for their safety opened the door - a man by the name of Shannon. Truth be told, she was beginning to grow fond of the old man due to his kindly nature and loyal service, regardless of what she had been taught. He bowed, extending a wrinkled hand to assist her from her seat. She took it, and stepped out into the open, squinting at the brightness of the afternoon.

  She was not to be disappointed. Before her was a lively street filled with men, women and children dressed in the most wonderful shades of colour, most pacing at their leisure and gazing at stalls, while some rushing past to complete what must have been diverse errands. Elaborate decorations dotted the roofs and balconies - colourful shapes that hung on wires and rotated gently in the warm breeze, wonderful tapestries of all shapes and sizes, and strange plants with waxy round leaves that seemed to glow under the sunlight. Trees were planted strategically in curvy patterns around a square past the nearest buildings, the sound of birds coming from the leaves that grew on them.

  Ariana took a step along the paved road that they were standing on, her eyes filled with amazement. Taking a deep breath, she took in the entire scene, smelling the perfumed air. She thought she could hear Shannon or one of the other guards saying something about how they couldn't stay there for long, but the voice felt like little more than a passing fantasy - one that was dispelled by the succeeding calls of merchants advertising their goods.

  It did not take long for three guards to position themselves at her sides, eyes alert. She was discouraged for an instant to see that Shannon was not one of them, but it made no matter. The rest of the guards went to accompany her brothers, while two remained behind to guard the litter. Her safety assured, she sprung towards the mass of people, letting the wonderful confusion wash over her. A boy rushed past her with a bag in his hands, and she smiled in his direction, marvelling at what life must be for those fortunate enough to be so free.

  Turning, she walked towards the nearest stall, attempting to regain her composure with minor success. On display were fine clothes of silk and satin, accompanied by assortments of shoes and boots of innumerable types and materials. The merchant smiled at her. "The best finery from the lands of Erkemeteq and Immanuel await the smooth touch of your skin, my lady, woven by no other than Semmetez Artamis himself, at your service." He bowed deeply, his head lowered before her. She could do no more than smile politely and leave, however, to which he responded with a gracious farewell and a flourish of his hand. She did not wish to part with her current crimson attire - it suited her well, and Ariana felt that it reflected who she was, and her future role in the world.

  The next hour was spent in an exhilarating exploration of the vast selection of colourful stalls and standing merchants who have gathered from all around the world to showcase their treasures, all but a few boasting of wild journeys that they have undertaken in their quests for excellence. After a while she began noticing undue attention from all around her, likely due to both her escort and the clothing she was wearing - an effect not diminished by the regal appearance of her flushed face. So they see my status, she thought briefly after realising. But she did not mind. She did not expect that there was much time for her left in the market. Her father never enjoyed her being away for prolonged hours.

  From what she recalled from her last experience at a market, this one was distinguishably different. The most blatant difference was in the use of colours - red was no longer ubiquitous, being strangely lacking. Instead, all was a bright white and yellow, with occasional touches of lapis lazuli to add additional vibrancy and clearness. Unlike the last time when a rain had threatened to descend, the sky was entirely clear save for a lonely cloud, and even that was visibly vanishing under the summer heat - a heat that made things shimmer all around. She preferred it this way, she decided. But she would not have minded differently - any weather was a welcome respite from the austere confinements of her private quarters.

  Ariana could not remember such a wide range of items on display at home. She had walked past books transcribed by students of the College of Drakerish, bottles of ancient wine and other beverages from Urn, a caravan of birds from lands adjacent, a merchant with a single large diamond protected by six mercenaries, a jeweller that specialised in rings and amulets, and a cohort of artist competing to decorate the homes of those wealthy enough to afford their masterful creations. She had in fact purchased a golden necklace that now was decorating her neck - this time she refrained from expressing her gratitude in material payment - and was most pleased with it. The day was wonderful - if only she could be this free forever.

  She smiled sadly. One of her guards gently informed her that the litter back home would be waiting for her in less than half an hour. She really did not wish to leave, but there was nothing else to do. Her father would become furious if she disobeyed, likely locking her away for years to come. Sighing, Ariana decided to investigate a final stall before her inevitable departure. Time had passed quickly, and she did not wish to spend it on unnecessary walking - so she selected a perfume stall not far away.

  As she approached the stall, a kindly old woman beckoned her forward, waving with a wrinkled hand. "Approach, o my lady, and explore the legendary perfumes of the seas of Khar, made from the rarest gifts that the waters have ever been known to reveal." Her mouth twisted in a toothless smile, but her eyes were wide alert with the energy of youth. "This vial here, the green one, is a favourite of mine. The recipe was designed by the great alchemist Sarrez Osontamo, and perfected through centuries by subsequent masters. One drop, and all of Eterealm will bow down to your sweet face, to pledge their hearts and souls as yours."

  The woman was bowing as she said it, a gleam in her eyes. Curious, Ariana looked at the red vial before her. "Show me then, I pray thee." The old woman's smile widened, and she uncorked the delicate container, closing her eyes momentarily and hesitating before moving very slowly to hold the vial before the girl.

  Ariana smelled the perfume. Within moments the surrounding sounds - the birds and chattering nobles and the sound of distant hooves - faded into absolute solitude, and the smell suffused through the air, caressing her gently. She did not believe that she had ever known a smell so sweet - it had a strong scent of the sea, of crashing waves and searing salt, and yet delicate touches of deepflower and roses that dispelled the harshness of the former, combining with it in wonderful harmony to give rise to a sensation that she could not imagine paralleled. Her lips curled in a smile - she did not notice. A stream of images came rushing through her mind, forming birds and swirling dancers and the fiery proposition of a setting sun. She breathed in deeper, feeling drawn in by the unseen vial before her. She began discerning weaves of undertones in the sensation, a fabric of a thousand different smells that combined to form what she was sensing. She had never known as many perfumes in her life. Gasping in ecstasy, Ariana was about to take a second breath when the smell vanished as suddenly as it had come, leaving behind a miserable sense of loss.

  The old crone's smile widened at Ariana's reaction. She brought the vial to her own nose, inhaling modestly before sealing the perfume in its timeless confinement. "Hmm, I see that you were not left disappointed, my princess. Perhaps you will care to grace this red vial over here as well? It was engineered by the warmages of King Baelor not long after the forging of the world. He ordered a compound that would give him strength in court, bending his rivals to their knees, inspiring respect into at the time unruly court nobles. They gave him what he wished for." The woman picked up the vial, holding it with utmost care as she spoke. She stared into Ariana's eyes. "With its help, the rebellion of Quarth had been put to an end within weeks. Within the month, no man or woman dared to speak against him. But he felt that this influence over others was wicked, and unnatural. He had the compound burned and the recipe buried not long after. By legend, the warmages were massacred the night after they were ordered to destroy the substance, confining its secret to the grave. But in truth, a select few of us have always known." She raised the mysterious vial high, gesturing at it with the other hand. "See for yourself, child. But to do so, you need to pay a price."

  "I have gold," Ariana said, fingering a pouch at her side, her eyes filled with wonder. Inside she was still clinging to the memory of the green vial, refusing to let go. She could hardly await what the next one had in store.

  "The price is not in gold." The woman's features shifted, and she hesitated for a moment before reaching for a clean dagger beneath her table. Ariana's guards moved to draw their own swords, but halted uneasily as the woman lay down the dagger on the table in front of her without seeming to notice. She proceeded to find a small cup, laying it beside the dagger. "I will need a drop of your own blood to activate the perfume, and shield you from the effects reserved for your enemies. Come here child, and experience."

  "I advise we leave," said one of the guards, the others nodding their approval. The old woman merely fixed her in her gaze, a faint smile on her wrinkled lips. Ariana thought for a moment. Her father would be furious if he found out, but perhaps she would be able to convince her guards to keep the secret. She knew, however, that she would forever regret declining the offer if she did so.

  Cursing herself, she raised her right hand. "Stand down." She paused for a moment, uncertain, but took a step forward.

  "You will not be disappointed," said the crone, reaching gently for Ariana's hand. Taking the dagger in the other, she guided her hand towards the cup, and used the sharp blade to create a cut in her index finger. Ariana recoiled from the pain, but she was firmly already held by the other's bony fingers. She winced as the woman squeezed her finger, forcing a small stream of blood to come out. When her hand was finally released, she thrusted it towards her with a jerk, holding the place where the cut was made. Breathing heavily, Ariana did her best not to tremble as the pain slowly receded. Her guards shuffled nervously, ready to draw their own blades.

  The woman once again did not seem to notice. She had already busied herself extracting a precise amount of blood from the cup and combining it with a drop of the liquid in the red vial, mixing carefully with a brush. Finally she looked up from her craft, and raised a wooden spoon with a single crimson drop on it, extending it at Ariana. The drop was much brighter than typical blood, a gleam of sunlight forming a rim of light around it. Hesitantly, Ariana took it with her unafflicted hand, and looked at it for a moment, scared.

  Then she brought the drop to her face, and inhaled.

  "Breathe deeply, Ariana, and tell Ulfar to enjoy his gift." The woman's lips were moving, but the sound of her voice was washed away as the fumes entered her nose, dissipating through her throat and into her lungs. She fell to her knees, gasping, her entire body filled with excruciating ecstasy. A torrent of fire and ice rushed through her mind, obliterating thoughts and memories alike in a relentless storm that left her unable to focus on anything aside from her immediate sensations. She tried to cling to her mind in a reflex, but found herself on the ground as her identity was scorched from inside her skull. The flames turned to assume the form of a girl in a red suit, but a gust of force sent the image scattering in a thousand fiery fragments, causing her to emit a spasmodic shriek.

  Eons seemed to have passed before the burning world began to fade at last, the darkness nullifying all pain and suffering as it advanced. The flames slowly died down, leaving a sense of deep respect and veneration for someone she could not remember. The world was silent. There was something she had forgotten, something about a market, but she could not remember. She merely lay there, a pool of vomit in front of her, but she did not react.

  Finally the darkness won, and she merely floated, unfeeling and unthinking.

  "Tell Ulfar to enjoy his gift." The words were the last thing that went through her mind before all went still.