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"Oh, my dear lady, have you heard the scandal about that young mistress... Yes, vanished into the night... oh my..."
"I heard that that blue diamond - the one worth a fortune - was stolen. That poor family..."
"The Belyi Tsar..."
The perpetual clamor of parties, the boisterous nobles fond of gossip, the glitzy pleasures. Commoners are often deceived by this veil of luxury, belittling themselves in the process. Yet, in truth, even some among the "noble class" are fooled, squandering everything they possess to pursue utter vanity.
Born into nobility, Kyryll shared certain traits and tastes with his peers, however, he never cared for these rowdy galas. Compared to the hustle and bustle, he preferred the stillness of space - reading alone in a study, for instance. Perhaps it was because he was still too young. A Fae just over a hundred years old is little more than a growing child, how could he understand the point of socializing? Once he has lived a bit longer, would Kyryll view these parties differently?
No. Whether it be in a few decades or even a few centuries, his perspective would remain the same - Kyryll was certain of it. Because right now, all he wanted was to erase his presence from this castle.
"... It's about time. Let's slip away."
Kyryll approached the host - the noble Lady Alexandra - to take his leave. Despite his distaste for noisy parties, as a nobleman, he had to observe the necessary etiquettes.
"My dear Lady Alexandra, today’s gala has been truly wonderful. Regrettably, I must depart for some urgent matters have arisen that require my immediate attention. I hope to receive another invitation from you in the future."
So incredibly wordy. Yet, after speaking, Kyryll still maintained a friendly smile, as if this were far from his first time playing the part.
"Oh, Mr. Flins, I am delighted you agreed to join us today. Yes, take your leave safely. I look forward to seeing you another time."
The lady before him gave a slight bow, and with that, Kyryll made his swift exit.
Tap, tap, tap
In the pitch-black, deserted corridor, every sound became amplified. Kyryll walked briskly toward the guest room arranged by the host to retrieve his personal belongings.
Click
The room was empty... or so it seemed. A tiny figure lay tucked away in a crib by the window. The curtains had been drawn back, allowing just enough moonlight to filter in and illuminate that adorable, small face.
"They really left you here all alone, didn't they, Layla?" Kyryll whispered to the infant.
The child, having just woken up, stared at her brother with amber eyes and a mischievous grin. She then turned toward the bright window, her gaze searching for something. Unfortunately, a towering tree blocked most of the sky, and with the thick frost coating the glass, all she could see was a blurry haze.
Waaah! Waaah!
Kyryll quickly scooped his sister into his arms, trying to soothe her, but truth be told, it wasn't helping much. Little Layla kept tugging at his hair with her tiny strength, squirming restlessly, leaving her brother utterly at a loss.
"Shall... I take you to see the stars then?"
Hic... Little Layla stopped crying instantly, her tiny hands finally letting go of his hair.
Little Layla truly loved stargazing, but she was never one to throw a tantrum for it. Kyryll understood well, what she truly feared was the loneliness, the emptiness of this room. Quite the opposite of him, wasn’t it? Usually, the shimmering sky was enough to soothe her.
Kyryll wrapped Layla snugly in his coat, preparing for their winter night escapade. And of course, if their family started worrying, it would be a real nuisance...
[I am taking Layla home early, she doesn’t like unfamiliar places. _ Kyryll Chudomirovich Flins]
After leaving the note in a conspicuous spot, the siblings' journey began.
A blizzard started to pick up. While the biting cold was never an adversary to the Fae, the snow proved to be quite an obstacle. Kyryll used his flames to melt the swirling flakes, creating a safe shield for his sister. As for Layla, well, she couldn't be more relaxed. She seemed fascinated by her brother’s blue flames, watching them intently and behaving much better than before.
But the journey had only just begun, hardships still lay ahead. Kyryll could only think of one place suitable for Layla to gaze at the stars while giving himself some peace after the party: the "Northern Peak" Tavern. True to its name, the tavern was perched on a treacherous, high mountain - quiet enough and high enough to capture the entire sky. But then, how was he supposed to scale such a height while carrying an infant?
In the blink of an eye, the siblings arrived at the foot of the mountain.
"Sooo high!" little Layla babbled.
"It truly is, isn't it?" Kyryll said to his sister. "Ascending in a blizzard isn't quite ideal, is it? If only you could transform into fire already, that would be wonderful. I could have gotten you up there in a flash, Layla."
"Fire?"
"Mhm. But then again, a leisurely pace is also nice. You do enjoy watching me use my flames, don't you, my dear sister?"
"Mmm-hmm!"
Normal humans couldn't possibly trek to the "Northern Peak," for the path was truly grueling. One had to cross rivers, scale vertical slopes, and traverse bottomless ravines, all while risking encounters with monsters. Moreover, they had to endure the bone-chilling cold on a mountain that offered no source of warmth. Consequently, the patrons of the Northern Peak were rarely human.
Fae had their own ways; it would usually take Kyryll mere minutes to rocket up to the tavern in his flame form. Today, however, he chose the most human way to get there: on foot.
...
"Whoa! Whoa!" Layla cheered after her brother took down a bear.
"You're enjoying this that much?" Kyryll asked. "Then let us continue, we’re almost there."
"Yey!"
The siblings pressed on. Encountering a deep chasm, Kyryll felled a tree to bridge the gap. The trunk later plummeted into the abyss due to the tremors. Well, hopefully, it didn't hit anyone. They then ran into another bear, but this one fled the moment Kyryll ignited a flame in his hand, so it didn't take much time at all.
The blizzard surged once more, and Kyryll continued to use his flames to shield Layla. As the current path was quite steep, he was forced to slow his pace.
Finally, the siblings reached their destination: a two-story wooden house nestled against the mountainside, bearing the sign "The Northern Peak." Inside, a warm light glowed invitingly.
Jingle, jingle!
"Ah! Is that you, Master Flins?" the bartender greeted him warmly. "Oh, and a little lady as well. Greetings, young miss."
"Mr. Ivan, good evening... Ah, just for today, please call me by my name. Using 'Flins' might cause quite a bit of confusion between the two of us."
Kyryll placed his sister on a windowsill, using cushions from the nearby chairs to create a safe little nest for her. Once she was settled, he turned and took a seat at the bar, right in front of Ivan.
"The usual, sir?" Ivan asked. "Yes, and a plate of sliced strawberries for the young lady over there, please," Kyryll replied.
The faint aroma of grape wine in the air, the crackling of the fireplace, and the dim lighting - just enough to see one's way - were the reasons Kyryll loved this tavern. While bringing a toddler along wasn't exactly an ideal situation, he was fortunate that Layla was completely mesmerized by her starry sky. Aside from the rhythmic sounds of the bartender at work, the space was cloaked in silence.
"Here is your 'Praise the great Cryo Archon,' Mr. Kyryll," Ivan placed a glass before the Fae guest.
The liquid inside was layered in shades of purple, transitioning from deep to pale, elegantly garnished with mint leaves. He then stepped away from the bar to deliver the strawberries to the little lady, who remained lost in the stars.
"I’m still quite curious, Ivan, why choose such a name for this drink?" Kyryll asked after taking a sip.
"Who knows? Perhaps a bit of flattery?" Ivan gave a mischievous grin. "To ensure the Great Cryo Archon doesn't tear down this remote little shack. The Great Belyi Tsar himself might have been among the guests here. If he were to hear anything insolent from my mouth, I’d hope... this drink might appease his wrath."
Ivan poured himself a glass of fruit juice and sat down with Kyryll. The two men said nothing, simply savoring their drinks at leisure. The owner of the Northern Peak didn't care if his patrons were nobles or commoners, humans or Fae. This was what Kyryll appreciated most: a conversation that wasn't wordy or bound by formality - just the simple bond between a bartender and a customer, or two drinking companions.
Kyryll occasionally turned to check on Layla before returning to his quiet enjoyment. He truly couldn't fathom what it was about the starry sky that fascinated her so much.
Knock, knock, knock.
The heavy wooden door was pushed open immediately after.
Creak - a tall, imposing man stepped inside. He had snow-white hair and sharp, piercing eyes, carrying an air of nobility. A normal person met with such an overwhelming aura would surely be wary, if not struck by terror. Fortunately, there were no "normal" people in this tavern.
"The usual, sir? Or... what should I call you today?" Ivan initiated.
"Chelovick," the man laughed. "After all, I am but a simple man."
Those who sought out the Northern Peak were usually looking to escape reality. Here, status and names were secondary - things they could decide for themselves. Kyryll was just Kyryll, he didn't care much for disguises, which was why Ivan usually addressed him by his surname, 'Flins.'
Chelovick took off his overcoat and sat down beside Kyryll. This was not the first time they had met. In the meetings between the nobility and the Snezhnayan royalty, Kyryll had often seen this man seated upon the highest throne with a cold, majestic presence, where every word he uttered silenced the entire room. Of course, his name was not Chelovick. And perhaps, in this tavern right now, little Layla was the only one unaware of his true identity.
"Here is your 'Fire-water' and apple pie, Mr. Chelovick," Ivan said, placing the pie and three full glasses on the counter.
Chelovick downed one of the clear drinks in a single gulp and let out a satisfied sigh.
"Now that’s a fine spirit! Haaa... I’m telling you, Ivan, these past few days have been utterly exhausting. Meetings all day long, colleagues bickering for days over a single decision, and I’m the one stuck there listening to it all..." Chelovick said wearily. "And for some reason, monsters in the outskirts have been on the rise lately. Dealing with them is quite a headache."
Indeed, the typical woes of a head of state. Only such a person would travel to a place as remote as this to unwind, scaling a peak this high and treacherous just for a good glass of liquor. And as fate would have it, he had become a regular.
"Oh, and who is this young stranger?" Chelovick turned to ask Kyryll, obviously just pretending not to know him.
"Just call me Kyryll. It seems you’ve been facing quite a lot of unpleasantries in life, Mr. Chelovick?" Kyryll replied politely.
"Oh, Kyryll, a fine name. Haha! You look so young, yet you already have a successor, eh?" Chelovick turned his gaze toward little Layla, who was busy playing with her strawberry slices. "A reliable father, truly - didn't forget to look after his daughter even while out for a drink. Haha! Commendable, truly commendable."
"...She is my younger sister, sir..."
"C'mon now, don't deny it! It’s rare for a Fae to start a family at this age. Not like an old man like me, it took me forever just to have one little princess..."
Chelovick chatted away while taking a bite of his apple pie. Before long, only crumbs remained on the plate. He then proceeded to drain the next glass of Fire-water in a single gulp.
"Haaaa... You’ve got to stay strong, lad. The world is changing rapidly, something is lurking, waiting to snatch away our peace. Those high up in the heavens have their own designs, sigh... if it serves their 'greater cause,' they won't give a second thought to small, fragile lives..." Chelovick’s face flushed a faint red, his head beginning to droop toward the bar as he spoke. "We must strive... to protect our precious children, mustn't we? You're a father just like me, so you must know, how small and adorable they are..."
Thud! His face crimson, Chelovick collapsed completely onto the counter. Judging by his steady breathing, it seemed he had fallen fast asleep.
"Kyyyrill..." A tiny voice called out from the window. Little Layla had finally looked away from the night sky.
"Do you need something?" Kyryll approached his baby sister. Looking at the windowpane, he suddenly realized that Layla had used the frost on the glass to draw something. "The Luscinia constellation? From that book we read last time, I presume. You have an incredible memory, Layla. Hmm... I heard there’s an Akademiya in Sumeru with a Darshan specializing in the stars. I'll send you there to study when you're older!"
"A-ka-de-miya?" Layla babbled.
"Mhm. There will be many brilliant scholars there. Word has it that the exams and studies are quite taxing, if it ever gets too exhausting, just write a letter home to me. The rainforest isn't too hot, but I’m worried you might faint under the desert sun... regardless, I’m sure Layla will become an elite scholar."
"Mhm!" Layla agreed, though she didn't quite understand. Then again, deciding the entire life path for a child who couldn't even walk yet was, admittedly, a bit too much.
Little Layla glanced toward the bar with sparkling eyes, tugging at Kyryll’s hair to convey her desire. By some miracle, Kyryll understood her immediately, he carried his sister back to the seat, carefully pushing his own glass out of her reach.
"A non-alcoholic 'Praise the great Cryo Archon', please, Ivan," Kyryll ordered.
The drunken Chelovick slowly lifted his head and took a sip of water. He looked much better than before, though the exhaustion still lingered. He turned to look at Layla, who was nestled in Kyryll’s lap, and spoke:
"Oh, your daughter looks so much like you, doesn't she?" he chuckled. "She's so tiny. My princess is a bit older than this young lady, but she was just as adorable when she was small."
Kyryll didn't even bother correcting Chelovick anymore. It was clear the man was a persistent teaser, despite knowing the Flins family well, he preferred the joke. Or perhaps, he simply wished to speak of his own daughter to someone he perceived as a fellow father.
"One non-alcoholic 'Praise the great Cryo Archon' for the little lady," Ivan said, placing the specially crafted drink down. It contained finely minced Wolfhooks, was mixed without alcohol, and was sweeter than usual - complete with a straw.
Layla fumbled with the glass for a moment before managing her first sip, her face lit up with pure satisfaction. Then, noticing something interesting, she turned back to her brother and exclaimed:
"Kyryll's hair color!"
"That's right! It’s the same color as yours, too, my dear sister," Kyryll replied.
Despite the name "Praise the great Cryo Archon," the main ingredient was Wolfhook - a specialty from the Land of Wind. Rumors had it that the Anemo Archon was a fond drinker, known for being friendly and free-spirited; perhaps the name hinted at the possibility that the Belyi Tsar and Barbatos might be close drinking companions.
"Oh, that looks tasty," Chelovick remarked. "Barkeeper, give me the same drink as this young lady."
With that, he drained his final glass of Firewater in pure contentment.
The three of them then enjoyed the same drink, savoring a rare moment of peace in their day.