9.2
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The sound of what appeared to be a chair scraping against the polished marble floor could be heard clearly in the silence, dragging close to her whereabouts.

Waking up didn't come easily, it felt more like an emergency, as though sleeping had become a dangerous or strenuous thing. Although her heavy eyes managed to open, Yazia couldn't remember anything; her heart began to pound, mind empty. It was as if a hypodermic of adrenaline had emptied itself into her carotid. When a sudden brawl did not come, her body relaxed. Yazia closed her eyes and descended back into the satin sheets.

It felt like home again. For a few moments her body lay there, under the appearance that she was safe and back in Elyrik. Before the Abingorian guards attacked her, rotating her life around and forcing Yazia to seek vengeance. But everything seemed still, quiet. Was she in Zhannar?

Then it struck her. She remembered.

Yazia's eyes shot wide open, and the sun had been pouring an intense light into the room through the arched window; it stung her eyes the longer she kept them open and a quiet groan escaped her lips.

How is it that she'd found herself in this very situation once before? If the Seldarine were watching her now, Yazia grew conscious that she'd appear a fool to them; that she didn't deserve to be in Jannah. Had she been rebutted as an outcast to Sehanine Moonbow? If her value was degraded purely to almost dying each time she'd stepped closer to her goal, then Yazia's many circles of life practising her swordsmanship was not enough to get into Zhannar.

How she'd swept in with a thirst for blood, but overskipped the very fact that others may have come with the same initiative, except to target it at her. Yazia was so tied up in her own scheme, it's own vines cutting deep into her skin that she did not think to realise the flurry of her enemies' motives.

It began to haunt her how much she'd missed. Had the enemies from her past finally caught up?

Sudden pieces of memory flashed within her mind as though she'd just collected the last piece of the puzzle; it suddenly made sense, it all made sense. The look in Aeneas' eyes weren't only of unkind duty, but like spitting venom seeping through the cracks of an open wound--the wound Yazia refused to let heal inside her. He'd wanted to finish what the poisoner had started, or perhaps he had tried to poison her himself with the Silverine dosage. Her bones ached. Not only did she descend back into the sheets, she'd sunk straight back into reality.

But why?

Do they know that I'm--

"Oh, I'm very sorry...did I disturb you? I didn't mean to wake you, I..." The voice beside the bedside trailed off into a whisper.

Yazia didn't recognise it.

But her heart didn't pound or try to escape her ribcage. She wasn't afraid. The voice had a seemingly fleeting comfort to it. Yazia gazed across the room and met the eyes of the Jampurien. The woman's eyes rent with amber when the sun caught in them, highlighting her brown skin.

She dunked the cloth into what appeared to be a clay bowl with the inscription of words forming a ring around its outside. Yazia watched her then pull the fabric from the clean water with both hands and quietly wrung the water out of it, twisting the cloth tightly.

"W-who are you?" Yazia's voice cracked. Her throat once again felt like razor blades.

The Jampurien sat beside Yazia at a stool on the right side of the bed. Only to stay silent for a few moments, she furrowed her thick brows, eyeing her with a piercing gaze. The woman then brought the warm cloth to Yazia's cheek, and tended to the wound. Yazia flinched.

"Careful." She continued pressing on the wound with her palm, the silver bangles around her thin wrist tinkling as she did. "We need to get your wounds to heal. If you keep talking, it's going to take longer."

Yazia couldn't help but stare at her, and stayed silent. This, although wasn't true, felt like the first time she'd had the graciousness of somebody actually wanting to help her instead of needing to kill or use her.

"Why are you helping me?"

"Just call me Nihira," she said and pulled the cloth away, briefly examining the wound.

Yazia lifted her hand to touch the soreness of her cheek, but was intervened by Nihira's hand,  who held it away from the skin. Yazia couldn't see the cut, but she partially hoped that it was just a scrape. She didn't need people, especially now, to intervene on her private affairs and motives. If the King was to find out that she had such a brutal dispute, he'd most likely be inclined to send her home.

"Thank you," Yazia mumbled and her hand dropped to the side.

They exchanged looks.

"He shouldn't have done that to you, do you know him?"

Yazia's gaze lowered, "I did."

"It wasn't your fault." Nihira's voice wove together, forming a tapestry of solace. "I suggest that we do our best to stay far from that halfwit. Or unless, you'd prefer the king to find out?"

Yazia's face stiffened into a frown. The king didn't know? How foolish it was of her to think that he'd known every detail that happened in his courtyard. He couldn't possibly know the whole nine yards of it by himself.

"The king?" She felt the staleness of her voice. It seemed as though Aeneas had tried to take it away from her, to muzzle her down.

"Um, yes. I thought that it would be a good idea to see you wake and let you tell it to him yourself. I'm certain that His Majesty would be able to do something about this. That man, if he is even a man, deserves much worse than what he gave you."

Yazia nodded. "Of course...but you see, I would prefer to tell him in my own time," she lied.

"That's more than understandable." Nihira bowed her head in response.

For a few moments, she lay sprawled amidst the pillows, in a mountain of comforters made of silken sheets. Yazia took this as a good opportunity to scan her whereabouts. She certainly wasn't back in her own chambers so this must've been where Nihira was residing while at the palace.

Slightly to the left of the bed, a night table held an enigmatic little jewel box garnished with an exotic bas relief surrounding it. More polished wardrobes and alabaster statues. An intricately woven tapestry, alternating with golden and vermillion embellishments, coated with sewn black undertones.

Yazia recognised a large depiction of a blooming flower within the center of it, and vines warped around the edges. Almost concealed behind an archway was a dainty bookshelf stand where a pile of books settled, implying that it served as an emergency provision for knowledge.

Although there was no balcony in Nihira's quarters like her own room, two arched mullioned glass windows framed by a thick wooden border, adorned by azure curtains poured a substantial amount of light into the room, from which one could view the ship masts just ahead of the palace and the open sea. Yazia hadn't realised there were seas this far out. Knowing that the blackcoat's followers could be anywhere in Nelaria slightly irked her.

"Oh...I almost forgot, forgive me. You were blacked out by the time I intervened and I couldn't carry you by myself, so Siraj helped me. You're in my chambers." Nihira interrupted, cutting Yazia's train of thought short.

"Siraj?" Yazia turned her body back to Nihira. That name wasn't familiar to her; she assumed killing the King of Abingor would be a task so easy that she wouldn't find time for any acquaintances. It reminded her of how little she knew of the guests staying at the palace, or perchance invited here by the king.

"A friend. You both should meet sometime. I can also introduce you to Kamelya. What do you say, in a few days at the celebratory masquerade?"

This was the first time Yazia heard that there was going to be a masquerade. Her mind quickly relayed back to the tournament, and then the single droplet of Silverine she had kept in her quarters. Within moments, she'd no longer felt better off dead, but a new awakening of vengeance quickly spiralled through her. The king could wait; whomever was scheming against her had to go first.

"That sounds perfect. I'd love to attend." Yazia said.

Out of the blue, Yazia felt she had overstayed her welcome. Even the sky was darkening, casting long shadows outside, the sky tinged orange. The hospitality from Nihira was more than enough to get her by, but a sudden reminder forged its way in the back of her head; she needed to find a way to contact Draven. Yazia needed to tell him everything. Perhaps he'd know more about the Prince of Silvern, or at least could console her on what to do next.

He must know something...

She'd see to it that she would write a letter to her brother.

"I have to go, if that's quite alright with you," Yazia continued and slid herself from the sheets. She slowly stood on her feet; she could feel it, the pressure in her brain, the dizziness attempting to strike her back down.

Within moments, Nihira had stood too and reached to grasp onto her shoulder. "Careful," she said.
Yazia brushed it off. "Oh no, I'm good, I'm okay. Thank you once again."

She felt stupid for leaving so soon, but she didn't quite wait for a response. What she needed to do now was more important than an acquaintance. Besides, who could she possibly trust? Yes, Nihira had saved her life, but how convenient was it that she happened to be there at the right time? Yazia's stomach twisted; she would've been better off dead, but Sehanine must have kept her here for a reason. Nihira seemed understanding enough, so Yazia quietly vowed that she'd try to make this up to her next time they met.

In a few days. The celebratory masquerade.
Yazia stumbled through the doors of the chamber, closing it tightly behind her. Nihira didn't seem the type to follow her, at least she hoped not. Greeted with the pristine halls that winded downwards in front of her, Yazia strolled them in search of her chambers.

Yazia was suddenly jolted out of her thoughts, turning to an oaken door where a loud cracking noise invertebrates through the air, slicing the silence. It echoed, quickly followed by an ear piercing scream that echoed down her way. It could have been a one off, but then it happened again.

And again.

The person, whoever they were, let out a pained whimper. Yazia's hands trembled by her sides, staring at the door. What could possibly be the event ongoing behind it?

She desperately wanted to know, but today had an affair of her own; thinking about meddling with another person's business drained her. It was getting dark. Yazia made a mental note to be watchful over the next few days. Whoever was behind those walls wouldn't be able to hide their injuries for long. Yazia hesitated, but quietly walked away from the door. She soon found what appeared to be her own and slid her way through the cracks of her chambers.

It could wait.

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