“Should we truly place it here?” Nightingale asked.
“There’s little value to it if we don’t have it sowhere of symbolic relevance,” John responded, while working with the Guild Hall console. “Plus, we have an incredible amount of space. This is as good a use for it as any.”
With the tap of a button, a rectangle of white stone vanished. Behind it was a new room, adjacent to the few corridors that went through the inside of the sizable star fort upon which John’s Palace resided.
An inviting gesture was made and the harpy took the lead. Gracefully striding, the flowing skirt of her midnight blue dress whispering, she entered the newly created opening.
There was little to see. For the most part, it looked like soone had taken a large kitchen knife and cleanly cut a chunk out of the northern point of the star fort. The ceiling was three tres up, a nice, luxurious distance. On demand, there could be further expansion up and down. All walls were made from the sa white stone John had remade the original star fort from. The original grey had been a bit too shabby for his splendour, not to ntion decayed by the wheel of ti. All that filled the room at the mont was the periodic pillar that assured structural integrity. The rock was not enchanted and thus the laws of physics required their tribute.
By John’s estimation, the surface area they had to work with here was about 312 square tres. That was the equivalent of a large family house floor. There was also plenty of space to expand downwards, up to and past the surface of the water. John had not tested just how deep, but the Guild Hall did continue downwards too. They could bury themselves into the guts of the earth, if so required.
“You sure you want to do this as our date?” John asked, while he followed Nightingale. The harpy headed towards the edge of the room. With no walls or windows, they could see the Earth Island sprawl out to the north. Only pillars of undecorated stone went alongside the outer rim.
Nightingale stopped by the edge. One more step and she would have dropped off, fallen twenty tres into the moat below. An insignificant drop, all things considered.
“I believe this fits both of us,” she responded. “I have no intentions to eat in a restaurant or visit a place of entertainnt. To shape is to make lasting mories. Besides…” Her feather’s rustled as she fanned and then re-folded her wings. “…I may be the slightest bit nervous.”
“And here I thought you would be able to deal with stage fright.”
“To sing before nobles and a nation are two different affairs. A nation that shall soon be mine as much as you are mine.”
“I don’t think I own Fusion,” the Gar told her, earning himself an amused glance by the harpy. “What?”
The harpy raised one of her wings in front of her smile. “You can proclaim that, if you want.”
Sighing, the Gar put his arm around Nightingale. “I should know better than to add more Royalists to my harem.”
“I am no Royalist; I am a student of justice,” Nightingale countered. “The question is not which system is always optimal, but currently. To advocate for the immortal philosopher to assu the mantle of the king is just – particularly when that man has a Class to assure the ability of his progeny.” She led him towards the centre of the room. “Republics, oligarchies, even dictatorships have their uses.”
The Gar sighed again. “You will arm tra with better argunts… that will be a thorn in my side…”
“You must not do what you wish not, John.” The harpy lowered her wing and revealed her now neutral expression. “I see great benefit to your nation in a royal and few noble houses. Legitimacy depends on adherence to justice. You have good people around you. Checks and balances sabotage their efforts.”
“That which kills the parasite also kills the symbiote,” John summarized and sighed for the third ti. “It’s not like I don’t understand…”
“Of course, you understand,” Nightingale interjected softly. “No doubt crosses my mind.”
“…it’s just that it violates my principles to assu such a power for myself. What gives the right?”
“Legitimacy.”
The Gar shook his head, he could not agree to that. With that gesture, the conversation changed directions. “Well, whatever form the elites have, you want to please them. So let’s get to that, shall we?”
“Certainly.” Nightingale placed a kiss on his cheek and then distanced herself from him again. “We are to strike a careful balance between dazzling and modest. We must be inviting to all parties and maintain what goal is served in this place.”
“Guess it’s ti to plaster the Fusion symbol all over the environnt again,” John suggested, only half joking.
“A sizable version of the Federation’s symbol would be appropriate in the main room. Should we have a foyer?”
“Wouldn’t be a good place for luxurious gatherings without a place for coats to be taken,” the Gar suggested.
“You are correct,” Nightingale agreed. “Perhaps a kitchen to prepare and store sweets and als to go with the tea?”
“Never a wrong idea. They’ll need a side entrance, so it’d be best if they had a room by the corridor. Right or left side?”
“Does it matter?”
“Since this is the first thing we put down here, besides the Guild Heart? Not really.”
“Then let us go with right.”
The triangle shape of their working area made carving a room out of the corners a bit awkward. John made a quadratic main room for the servants to work in and put a general rest area for them in the corner, thus utilizing that space in the most productive manner he could. With the first walls erected, their canvas beca more limited. As options beca more limited, creativity was put into more productive channels. An infinity of choices hampered the mind.
“What shall we do with the left, my John?”
“I think we should sort out the main hall question first,” the Gar responded. They moved in the direction of the edge of the room. “I am thinking a large, circular room. We will close all of these gaps between the pillars with glass, except two on each side, serving as entrances to a large balcony that protrudes outwards.”
“Circular would not be an effective use of the space.”
“I don’t think that’s a primary concern here,” he confessed. “It’s your decision though, this is your space.”
Nightingale pondered, then nodded. “I approve of your idea. However, I do wish to compromise the circular shape with this northern corner.” She gestured with a talon at the part of the unfilled space where the star fort ford its point. “Place a plinth there, I will have a statue placed that fits the the of the environnt.”
The Gar did as his woman desired. Walls were put up, doors carved in. There was a big, unused space between the servant’s area and this main hall, which John swiftly appropriated for bathroom usage. It had to go sowhere and that fit nicely.
That still left a third of the space unclaid. “Smaller rooms will serve well,” Nightingale stated. “Not every gathering will demand this large a hall. Individual lounges, akin to those that you have upstairs, would be most welco.”
Even after carving three rooms of varying sizes out of that area, there still was room left. They put an art gallery in there, just to fill things out, as well as a small library. With those in place, they got working on the details. “Fusion symbol on the roof or the floor?”
“The roof,” Nightingale decided swiftly. “Make it a do.”
John tapped the necessary buttons and the stone above them rose and curved as if a giant was pulling at its centre. Soon they had a smooth do above them. The Fusion symbol was in John’s pre-sets. All he needed to do was find it, scale it, and then confirm. The six-coloured symbol looked bare on the otherwise featureless, white-stone.
“Details will take quite so ti,” John said.
“Indeed. What do you think about a rim?”
“I think a good looking one would take quite so ti,” the Gar got a bit more insistent.
“Best to start now then.”
John let out a half-annoyed, half-concerned sound and walked over to Nightingale. Placing both hands on her hips, he turned the harpy towards him. “We won’t get this done today no matter how hard we try. I want to tend to you for a bit.”
The goddess of the night leaned forwards and put her head on his chest. “I appreciated the distraction.”
“You shouldn’t distract yourself until the last mont.”
“I am experienced with stage fright.”
“…Co here…” he softly spoke to her and brought her to that newly ford balcony. It did not have a railing yet and so they could sit down on its edge. Their feet dangled over the drop. Nightingale grabbed his left leg with her talon. Her torso was leaned against his. Lovingly, he caressed her wings. “You’ll be fine.”
“I know,” Nightingale mumbled back. “I know I will. If they accepted Nathalia, they will certainly accept .”
John chuckled a little bit. “Way to throw Nathalia under the bus there.”
“Do you know what cascades her return and subsequent declaration as your patron goddess created?” Nightingale asked.
“Quite large ones,” the Gar responded. It was easy to forget, with how she acted most of the ti, but Nathalia was among the most known goddesses and dragons out there. Even though she had slept for the better part of 600 years, the world had rembered her. When she had suddenly returned in the tournant, that had obviously left its mark. “Nathalia has the advantage of being… prideful.”
“You are standing in a glass palace, be mindful of what you throw.”
John laughed, a little louder this ti. “A different kind of pride. Nathalia lacks self-doubt, you could say. That lets her do whatever she wants.” Nightingale cooed when he scratched her behind her elf-like ear. “I’ll admit: I find it adorable how worried you are.”
“My doubts have so use then,” Nightingale responded sarcastically. “Your sadism is manifesting.”
“Only because I know you’ll be fine,” he assured her. “You are my songbird. I pledged to you the world. You won’t disappoint .”
Nightingale inhaled deeply, then exhaled slowly, forming a musical scale as she did. At the end, John felt that she was completely calm. Outwardly, she looked no different. The way her foot held onto his was less constricting. She separated his gaze from her lips with a raised wing. “I will be utterly honest: were we not pressed for ti, I would be all over your cock right now.”
After several dates during which the topic of sex was largely and intentionally avoided, the confession had John react with an amused and desperate wheeze. “I am a terrible influence on you,” he stated.
The lady of the night embraced him with her raven wings. Darkness enclosed them, shut out the entire world. There was only the two of them. Nightingale leaned in closer. eting her a quarter of the way, John hastily claid her lips.
Heated, their tongues whirled around one another. The harpy gasped, as he pushed into her sensitive mouth. Her lavender eyes glowed softly with power. Hunger rose within John, hunger that he would not be able to resist if he teased himself for too long. Ripping himself away, he almost lost himself when beholding his date. Nightingale remained still, her mouth wide open. The depths of her mouth twitched. Before thick drool could flow past her lips, she finally closed that inviting hole and swallowed hard.
“Thank you,” she cooed.
“That was my pleasure,” John guaranteed. They sat for a bit in silence, just gazing into each other’s eyes. The sun wandered towards the horizon, tinging the sky in many colours. Slowly, reaching for sothing truly divine, he frad her face with his hands. She nuzzled into one palm, then the other. “I love you.”
“I love you too.”
“I couldn’t ask for a more fitting patron goddess for Fusion. Whatever the Federation is and whatever it becos, I know you will have the people in mind.”
“I will always put you first, my John, and that ans creating a realm in which we are happy.”
They kissed again, almost innocently this ti, as the last bits of daylight vanished.
Then, in the distance, they heard a single violin. The drawn-out note was gradually joined by other instrunts. Soft and slow, a lody played, spreading from the main stage in the Comrcial District through the speakers all over the Guild Hall. The clouds above pulled together into a thick layer.
Suddenly, the entire Guild Hall was subrged in twilight. Whispers all around could be heard, despite the distance. Thousands of people simultaneously speaking out in wonder. Then the lanterns along the roads ca to life. Shining softer than usual, they illuminated paths towards the main stage. Travelling pulses directed the masses in the direction they had to go.
It was beautiful and it was all as John had planned it. The orchestra and the promise of the last event pulled the visitors towards the main stage. It was a spell without mana, an incantation without words. Magic was in the air.
“Ti for my last pre-vacation address,” John whispered to Nightingale. The harpy chuckled, behind a raised wing, and gave him mischievous eyes. “What is so fun- Oh no, she wouldn’t… Who am I kidding, of course she would.”
“You are powerless to stop her,” Nightingale said.
That was a true fact.
User Comments
0 comments from readers