Cristin (11)

 

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Chapter 2: The Elders

Story Snippet (11) POV: Cristin

The Elders of Crystalys had always been described to be the pinnacle of modesty, ‘perfection,’ and timelessness; a glimpse of the future all Chandalyns dreamed of achieving, and Cristin now knew why such vocabulary was used to modify them. 

They stood as three side by side, draped head to toe in pure white cloth and decorated with crystal, not a single sign of having skin under such drapes; even their faces were covered by white masks. They were backdropped by extravagant pillars and arches of marble, each one with complex but purposeful designs; and in front of them a sleek and delicate veil of translucent fabric. Cristin had never seen anything like it before, such fabric was probably the most expensive thing ever produced in Crystalys.

Yet this was not what caught his attention the most. Each Elder stood without anything near them, as if to show that they needed no such commodities to prove their status, with the curtain acting as a wall between the normal and the ‘perfect.’ No, what they had was height, like such that Cristin had never seen before; all three towering over him by stance alone, and with the voids of the masks watching him enter the space, Cristin suddenly felt very small and insignificant.

Cristin stepped into a crystal spiral on the center of the floor, his shoulders and neck stiff as he stood as straight as he could.

“Cristin of the Amethyst House,” the center Elder spoke then, his voice soaring through the room, “you are aware of how rare this is?”

“Yes, Your Timelessness,” Cristin spoke, feeling as though his lungs were constricting.

“You are a lucky boy, as most will live to never lay eyes upon this room; of course, you should be aware that this is a most dire and special occurrence?”

“Of course, Your Excellence.”

The black gaps where the Elder’s eyes were continued to drill into Cristin.

“Then I will not delay.”

With a barely conceivable movement all three of the Elders motioned toward something, and Cristin watched as two Onyx Division Chandalyns pulled in a figure.

Four weeks it had been since Cristin saw Kasi, and his eyes widened at his appearance. His cheeks sunken and lacking in color, his eyes sporting dark black circles, and his clothes clinging much looser on his frame; his eyes looked distant, the black of his sclera swallowing up the light of his yellow irises as he seemed not to notice much of what was occurring.

Cristin wished to shout, to ask what happened, but he dared not utter a word in front of the Elders, instead staring at the spectacle as Kasi was brought in front of him. 

“Cristin of the Amethyst House, you have been summoned here on the basis of translation between us and this Creature.”

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