Chapter 784: Conflict (2/2)

“Right. I was promised a feast at some point,” she said.

“Of course,” Ormont said and gestured towards one of the doors. “We will feast. To celebrate this day of change. Be it for the better.”

I do hope so, Ilea thought as she joined the dwarves. There’s a lot of conflict potential. Aki was right. Let’s hope they prioritize the safety of their people. And let’s hope Aki can protect himself against any attempts to overthrow him in the future.

Then again I have the keys. And they’d have to wait decades to get in even if they had them. If they can’t get someone as resilient as me to do it. Aki is the least of my concerns.

She sighed.

“Exhausted?” Hatta asked as she joined her, the two entering a long hall illuminated with warm light. Stone chairs and a stone table stood at the center, everything prepared, a team of cooks waiting.

Ilea looked up at the lights before taking a random seat. “Yes, honestly.” She leaned back and rested her head on her fist. “What is it now?” she asked, looking at the woman.

“It… its fine,” Hatta said and sat down next to her. “I guess we should be flexible enough to have our seating order rearranged. Especially now that more guests will surely join us.” She made sure the nearby dwarves heard her.

“I took someone’s chair?” she asked.

“You really are not a diplomat,” Hatta said.

“No,” Ilea confirmed. “I can move somewhere else.”

“It’s fine. You sat down. You shall remain,” the Maker said.

“On another note, why stone? Nearly everything. In every Taleen place I came across,” Ilea said.

“It’s around. It’s durable. A little uncomfortable,” Hatta said.

“A little,” Ilea murmured, ash flowing down to create a comfortable cushion. “Why then?”

“Getting too comfortable leads to stagnation,” Hatta said. “It is the death of a civilization.”

“Should be the goal instead,” Ilea said.

“An interesting question. Subjective I suppose, to the person asking,” Hatta said. “But you did not come to that kind of power with being comfortable.”

“I’m often comfortable. I just happen to enjoy killing monsters. Incomprehensible ones that destroy your mind before you even reach them,” Ilea said.

The woman nodded. “I can imagine.”

Ilea looked at her for a few seconds. “No. I don’t think you can.”

Hatta considered and smiled. “Fair. Maybe I can’t.”

The cooks got to work now that everyone was seated, distributing plates of steaming food. Ilea was surprised to find the first dish already quite varied. Various roots and vegetables mixed with mushrooms and a brown sauce that smelled both earthy and spicy.

“I don’t suppose you have a lot of meat here?” she asked.

“No,” Hatta said and smiled. “But our diet is variable enough. Is it tasty to someone that came from outside?”

Ilea grinned. “Of course it is. It’s wonderful,” she said and continued eating, asking for more a few minutes later.

The dwarves started to seem slightly intimidated when she simply did not stop. At least the cooks were considerate enough to get the empty plates out of the way.

Not like they can’t count the plates I finished. Maybe I’ll crack their high score on my first feast. She drank from the large jug, downing the ale before she slammed it down. The gesture seemed to amuse some of the dwarves.

“This is hardly the best ale I’ve ever had,” she said, looking back at a group of waiting cooks. “Try this one,” she said and summoned her last barrel of Walter’s ale. It was high time for a visit anyway. “Can they join us?”

“If you wish for them to join the table. They shall,” Hatta said, raising her mug towards the cooks.

They looked around and at each other.

Some of the Guild representatives didn’t seem too happy about it, others downright snickering.

Ilea summoned ash to provide chairs for the others. “And I suppose here’s some food from my favorite cook, and a restaurant in Ravenhall. You’ll have to visit sometime.” She summoned a few dozen plates from Keyla’s creations. She could justify it as a diplomatic move. “A gift, I suppose. For the feast.”

“Is there poison in there?” one of the dwarves asked, getting a few glares from the others.

“I don’t know. Probably not. I’ll heal you if you start dying. Promise,” Ilea said as she cracked open the barrel and started pouring mugs of ale. Ah this youth and lack of power. Being able to get drunk off this simple brew.

The first cook took a sip and nodded slowly. “Yes.”

“Human made,” Ilea said, grinning.

“I’m sure it was inspired by a dwarven creation,” one of the cooks said. “Or they bought the recipe.”

“Fuck off,” Ilea said and laughed, refocusing on her food as the dwarves laughed and shared around the barrel and food. For a while everyone quieted down, eating what Keyla had created.

Shutting up the entirety of the Taleen ruling class. Or what I assume to be their ruling class. “You are the ruling class of the Taleen right?” she asked Hatta.

“The representatives here speak for their Guilds. And the Guilds are the governing body of the Taleen, yes. There were once kings in various cities, but the Makers stood above them, even then,” she explained.

“Good to know things like that when you plan to negotiate with said Taleen,” she said, glad she didn’t have to stop eating. Telepathy was nice.

“The three question marks make up for a lot of missing tact and knowledge,” Hatta said. “Though I find your approach refreshing.”

“Refreshing compared to what?” Ilea asked. “Or did you lie about your age?”

“Refreshing compared to what I learned. From books, and lectures. One doesn’t have to experience everything to gain some manner of understanding,” Hatta spoke.

“Not everything. But some things,” Ilea said. “Like flying.”

Hatta smiled. “My grandfather used to say the same thing. Maybe now I’ll get a chance to try it myself.” She swerved her mug around and looked at the liquid before taking a sip.

“Was he around before?” Ilea asked.

Hatta nodded. “Yes. And he taught me things that could’ve meant death. Even now… no. With the Guardians gone, there is no danger. And still it feels… like it’s there. Always watching. We tried to break out. Many did. Others accepted it. Some welcomed it. Entire generations in conflict.”

“Sounds fucking shit,” Ilea said, downing another mug. “Try this one,” she said and handed the dwarf a mug of Walter’s mead, from her second to last barrel.

Hatta drank from it and froze, wiping at her eyes.

“You okay?” Ilea asked.

“This is mead… isn’t it? Honey wine,” she said. “It’s so sweet. Sweeter than it says in the books.”

“There’s a lot more things out there,” Ilea said, realizing the noise level in the hall had picked up by quite a lot. They weren’t exactly singing and shouting yet but it was getting close. “Were you allowed to fight? To train your magic?”

“It was very limited,” one of the warriors said. “For exercise mostly.”

Ilea grinned. “I know the Guardian doesn’t like his machines destroyed, but maybe he can sacrifice a few hundred for a good cause.”

Joori growled at the suggestion but someone slapped his shoulder.

“When have you last used your sword?” someone asked.

“I didn’t need it,” Joori said.

“You will now,” Ilea said.

“Aye. I will. To protect the people of this city,” the Paladin said as he looked at her, drinking from his mug.

“If you want to use it on me, give it a shot. I survived the Sphere. I think I can take you,” Ilea said with a smile.

“Your provocations don’t-” Joori said when someone punched his shoulder.

“Joori!” one of the cooks shouted, others soon joining in.

“You don’t seriously think he can hurt me?” Ilea asked, seeing the somewhat worried look on Ormont’s face.

He glanced at her.

“You have survived in Kohr. I have been there to hunt,” she sent.