Garden Of The Abyss

"Urr...my grandfather used to bring me here."

Quickly brushing off Getrude\'s question, clearly holding some level of shyness to himself--they made their way inside the tailor shop. Inside the high-maintenance establishment, holding finely woven clothes, the shop owner was left in awe at the size of the new customer.

"--Come this way...I need to take your measurements, Sir."

The frail old man ushered for Noah to follow him into the room behind the store counter while the knights waited.

"So, what\'s the plan, Cap? The road to Grandeuve is dangerous, especially around this time of year. I hate to admit it, but we\'re not adventurers--journeys like this aren\'t exactly our strong suit."

Damien asked while they were left to wait while the tailor obtained Noah\'s measurements.

"I have something in mind."

"Whatever it is, you know I have full trust in your decisions, Captain."

"I know, Sir Damien. Thank you."

Her fair smile and hooded eyelids which sat over her steely, emerald eyes nearly caused the knight to lose his composure, fighting against the blush that wanted to inhabit his cheeks.

Nearly hitting his head on the threshold of the door, Noah stepped out with the flabbergasted tailor—who looked at the taken measurements as if they had insulted him.

"I— there will be an extra charge. I have nothing in this man\'s size, I\'ll have to make something on the spot."

"Price isn\'t a concern, isn\'t that right, Sir Damien?"

A rare, conniving smile displayed on her lips as she looked up at Damien, who reluctantly accepted his fate. In truth, Getrude never carried money on herself.

"How long will it take?"

Damien hovered over the elderly man\'s shoulder, who was rubbing his palms together over a wooden workbench. Only a couple balls of raw material such as yarn sat atop the table, much to the confusion of the onlooking knight.

"Oh, worry not, I\'ll only need a few moments."

"A few moments?"

"Hoho—it is the speciality of my family line. Mined: Weave!"

Waving his hands in the air above the material, it unraveled itself under the mystical command he released.

Each string of fabric stretched out, cooling around each other before forming into a tangible shape.

"Fascinating. This is your family magic, Sir?"

Getrude watched as the fabric weaved itself, hovering in the air.

"That is correct. I guess you could say it was...tailor-made for this."

"—"

"—It is almost done now…"

Coughing into his hand, the elder tailor moved past the silence that followed his attempt at humor.

Twiddling his moustache, the man hummed and waved his wrinkled index finger in the air like a conductor. A obsidian blazer, hazel trousers and a white dress shirt were formed—gently setting themselves down on the table.

"Give them a try, Sir."

Stepping aside, the tailor gave room for Noah to take the newly formed set of clothes.

Without batting an eye, Noah dropped his worn trousers to his ankles, kicking them off—much to the shock of those near him.

"Sir, I meant in the fitting room!"

"—!"

While the other two were left flustered, with Getrude seeming almost offended to have seen the dangly bits of Noah, Damien only let out a complimentary whistle.

"So damn annoying. It\'s just a p—"

"Go!"

"Alright, alright."

Yawning into his calloused hand, Noah lumbered into the fitting room with the newly woven clothes in hand.

"That man is going to be the death of me…"

It sounded as if the fitting room held a rampant bull in it as constant thuds resounded, sounding as if the man had fallen over. After a few minutes of this rambunctious sounding dressing, the golden-haired otherworlder stepped out from the navy curtains that acted as a doorway to the room.

Covered in clothes befit for a high-maintenance nobleman, Noah looked as if he were a kid forced into these clothes by his mother.

"Pft-!"

Damien had to shield his mouth, his cheeks puffing up as he fought the natural reflex to laugh at the stiff sight.

"Sir Damien...control yourself."

Although she said that, Getrude was shaking as if she was fighting the urge to heckle at their recently acquired companion.

Itching at his neck from beneath the tight collar of the dress shirt, it was apparent the man was not made for this type of wear.

"You finally look presentable, Sir Noah."

"—Whatever. I need some booze already."

Paying the handsome fee for the magically woven outfit, the three headed out into the town which sat under the fluffy clouds of the evening sun.

It was a sight most who grew up in the capital grew used to, but on this particular day with the ultimate foreigner at his side, Damien felt entranced by the colossal walls that protected the city. They were a feat most claimed had to be done by magic; yet it was commonly known that it was the masterful work of King Taelion--the "Architect Ruler". Guarding the top of the pearlescent, divine walls were a plethora of guards that stood on watch beside the massive mana-reavers; canon-like devices that flung incarnated spells. Though, it was a role that men seldom wanted to partake in, as reaching the summit of the cloud-reaching walls required being hoisted up by the shoddy, rickety wooden elevator that was hoisted up. Seeing that sight; he couldn\'t help but smile knowing the feeling of safety it likely provided for the citizens.

It seemed Noah earned his payback for the uncomfortable outfit forced onto him, drinking away Damien\'s coin once they found the nearest tavern.

"Another for the man! Nay, the beast!"

Cheered on by the onlookers, Noah slammed down yet another empty mug, containing only residue foam within the cup.

A graveyard of mugs sat on the table, another victim of Noah\'s endless alcoholic lust being set down in front of him, presenting the translucent, golden liquid.

With a single lift of the mug over his mouth, the liquid disappeared down his throat as the tavern goers cheered him on.

"Go! Go! Go!"

Slamming the mug down to claim victory over another glass, the colossal man let out a bellowing belch that shook the legs of the table.

"Am I being compensated for this…?"

"Compensated with the satisfaction of being a hero to this kingdom, yes, Sir Damien."

"—That\'s cruel. I can\'t even have a drink of my own now."

Watching his money being drank away as he sat beside the man who\'s only thought was beer, Damien felt his stomach sink with every mug ordered.

Droplets of the amber liquid spilled onto the table as Noah dropped the alcohol into his mouth rather than sip it, wiping his mouth with his sleeve—much to the dismay of the knight who just paid for it.

Getrude attempted to halt Noah\'s glutton for beer out of fear of him becoming abhorrently drunk—but he proved to be nearly immune to the effects of alcohol.

"Remind me never to challenge this guy to a drink-off."

After dozens of tall mugs had been drained into Noah\'s stomach, he left with a satisfied smile perched on his face.

"We lost more time than I had realized. We\'re going to need a ride."

Getrude looked up at the obsidian skies which inhibited the pearlescent stars that watched over the world.

Looking at the row of stationary carriages waiting for customers, the maiden\'s sights set on the scarlet and gold carriage, hoisted by a dragon-like creature covered with tangerine skin.

"Are you available?"

"Depends. Where are you headed?"

The coach driver who sat atop the cushioned, light brown seats asked the lady knight, stroking his vanilla moustache.

"Not far, to the Ternsdel estate. Can you take us there?"

"Hmm...a two hour ride south of the capital. I can do it. Please, enter."

Gesturing his hand towards the door placed on the side of the large carriage, Getrude entered first, followed by the two men. The interior of the dragon-drawn transport resembled a nobleman\'s room more than the innards of a carriage.

There was more than enough legroom even for someone of Noah\'s stature, with dark brown leather seats that washed away the tiredness of their bodies. Much to the knight\'s horror—a shelf of drinks was placed next to the seats.

"Off we go!"

The crack of the harsh leather whips resounded against the resting dragon\'s back, marking the start of their humble journey as the carriage began to move.

"The Ternsdel estate, huh? I didn\'t think you were friends with the young head."

"Why is that? I have many acquaintances within Mastorn."

"No, no, I didn\'t mean you. It\'s just...I\'ve heard the head of the Tersend estate has isolated herself from the matters of Mastorn. I heard she isn\'t exactly fond of humans either."

"That\'s why she is our perfect ally."

The bumps that rocked the carriage confirmed that they had left the smoothly built streets of the capital.

Getrude closed her arms, keeping her arms tucked against her chest as she used the time given to them to relax. Each time the spinning wheels ran over a dip in the road, her shining locks bounced against her shoulders.

At times like this, resting as she finally set her stern guard down—Damien couldn\'t help but be bewitched by her glowing beauty.

Finding himself staring at his Captain for enough time to make him come off as a creep, he shook his head before leaning his head back against the rumbling interior of the coach.

Any attempt to get some sleep was thwarted as the alcohol had finally caught up to Noah, who was snoring like a sleeping boar on the scarlet carpeted floor.

Each deep, crackling inhale and exhale vibrated the floorboards.

"Captain, you awake?"

"I wouldn\'t be able to sleep if I wanted to."

"I hear you. This guy is really something else…have you met any of his kind before?"

Damien\'s almond-shaped silver eyes looked over at the slumbering otherworlder as he spoke to Getrude, who slowly parted her closed eyelids.

"I have."

"Really? I can\'t say I\'ve ever met an otherworlder. Argonauts make sure of that."

Adjusting her emerald cape, running her hand over the fluffy material that decorated her shoulder plates, she only nodded with a slight smile before responding, "They aren\'t much different from us."

"Is that so? Noah here is an exception to that, I guess."

"Indeed. He is an extraordinary man."

"Extraordinary? This colossal drunkard?"

Getrude nodded her head once more at her subordinates\' comment, standing up and taking one of the glasses displayed, dropping a few ice dupes in before filling the cup with amber liquid.

"Mastorn has treated his kind like devils, with absolute prejudice fueling the hunt of otherworlders. I\'m sure he\'s experienced his fair share of that, and has had losses of his own here. Yet...he doesn\'t seem to bear any hatred to us."

"—"

Hearing those kind, somber words from the Captain as she took a sip from the class, Damien looked over at the snoring man.

"I guess. In my opinion, it\'s just the booze keeping him happy."

Damien brushed his gauntlet-covered fingers through his verdant tufts of hair as a slight chuckle left his lips.

"There is a reason he was the chosen envoy of the Outlander, Sir Damien."

"Even so, was a drunkard really their best option? Makes me wonder what they\'re all like if this was their pick."

A large bump was hit in the road, abruptly waking up the snoring Outlander before the coach driver announced their arrival, "We\'ve arrived at the Ternsdel estate!" He announced with such gusto and passion that they feared he may have waken the slumbering village folk.

The carriage could be felt turning around the courtyard of the estate before finally coming to a halt.

Upon exiting the couch, which seemed as if it were going to crumble over the weight of the formally dressed giant—the sight of the Ternsdel estate was overwhelming. The vibrant torches which fought the darkness, placed along the length of the mansion could hardly cover the entirety of its size.

Paved with smooth stone, the gardens that lined the entrance of the manor inhabited exotic foliage the knights had never seen, with ancient, slumbering trees which stretched their limbs out in the air.

"Shall I wait out here for the ride home?"

The coach driver asked, rummaging his hand through a pouch of peanuts, shoving the salty snacks into his mouth.

"That won\'t be necessary."

An answer came, but not from the three passengers.

Vanilla, somewhat spiky hair hung down as far as her waist, her amber irises welcoming them with their gentle sheen. Rather than a maid uniform, the woman of unorthodox beauty wore an obsidian and hazel butler outfit, with a fluffy skirt than stayed just above her knees.

"Greetings, revered knights. I am Myara Greitasveil, representing Lord Ternsdel. The lady has informed me that you will be staying over tonight."

"—Thank you, Myara."

Getrude gave the maid a firm handshake, letting out a visible, icy breath as a result of the cold night.

"We\'re staying here?"

Looking up at the massive home built to stand above modesty, Damien didn\'t know how to feel about the idea.

"—As long as the beds are warm and their booze is in stock, I\'m happy."

Noah cracked his neck side to side, stepping in front of Myara as he looked her up and down. The long-haired maid\'s nose raised to the air, sniffing a few times before her warm gaze set on the towering man.

"Your scent...you\'re an otherworlder, aren\'t you?"

"Do I still smell or something?"

"Oh, pardon me. You see, I\'m a beast woman so I can\'t help but catch onto certain smells like that."

As if proving her claim, Myara smiled with rows of sharp, spotless teeth.

"A beast woman?"

"Demi-human, to be precise. Please come in, Lady Tersdel is waiting inside."

Without any convincing, Noah followed behind the Demi-human maid, looking as if at any moment his taut clothing would be ripped by his large body.

"How did they know we were coming?"

"The workings of demi-humans are efficient, indeed."

"Eh?"

Left with a vague answer, Damien paused for a moment before catching up with the woman in shining armor, entering the manor of the demi-human noble.

The fragrance of sweetly scented candles was the first thing to meet the guests\' nose upon walking through the tall oak doors.

Immediately upon entering the front lobby of the manor, they were quick to notice the differences it bore from the standard abodes of nobles. Inside of the home, an ancient, thick tree stood in the center of the initial room, surrounded by a pair of staircases.

"Welcome, Lady Getrude, Sir Damien...and esteemed Outlander. My name is Freida Ternsdel, I hope your journey here was a relaxing one."

Overlooking the ground floor from the staircase balcony, the youthful maiden introduced greeted them with a delicate voice. A blue rose sat atop her head of silky, umber hair, flowing down her thin shoulders. Only one of her opalescent lavender irises watched them, the other covered by her lengthy locks. What quickly caught the eyes of the two men were the perked-up animal ears that resembled that of a wolf\'s one, sitting atop her head.

"Thank you, Freida, for acting on such short notice. I am in your debt."

Getrude humbly bowed forward in gratitude of the demi-human noble, earning a gentle smile from the girl atop the staircase.

"I- It\'s an honor to meet you, Lady Ternsdel. I\'m grateful for your hospitality."

Following the lead of the golden-haired maiden, Damien bowed forward in the presence of the young lord.

"Ur, I\'m Noah. Thanks for letting me stay over."

Not even attempting to show respect to the girl, Noah kept his hands tucked in his pockets as he lazily gave his gratitude to her, only bowing his head once he felt the threatening, verdant gaze of Getrude sink into him.

"Please...such words embarrass me. Save your thanks for after you find your stay here to your liking. I must say, it is an honor to welcome such prestigious figures into my home. Come, supper should be almost ready to be brought out."

Freida made her way down the spiralling staircase, lined with cerulean fabric. The stygian, flared dress she wore with hints of cyan complimented her innocent beauty, still--Damien found it hard to believe such a young girl was the head of a powerful family such as this.

Freida greeted them face to face, with Myara beside her. She barely came up to Noah\'s waist, her fluffy ears twitching a few times before she gave them a smile, heading into the large white doors that stood to the right of the room.

"Oh—forgive me, it slipped my mind."

Freida stopped just before entering the dining room, looking back at the knights, checking their armor.

"What is it?"

Damien didn\'t know how to feel about having the young lady\'s eyes scanning him, averting his gaze.

"I\'m sure the armor you\'re wearing isn\'t comfortable. Myara, can you show them to their rooms and a change of clothes?"

"—That\'s not necessary."

Getrude smiled at the gesture, waving her hands but quickly being dismissed.

"I insist."

"O...okay."

Behind that innocent, warm smile from Freida, was the true strength of a noble. The next thing they knew, the two knights were following the demi-human maid while Noah headed into the dining room to wait with the lady.

The walls of the rich corridor exhibited no paintings of past family heads, only displaying natural sceneries—pastures of flawless greenery, mountains which reached for the stars, and the abodes of great beasts.

"Here we are."

Myara stopped in place and turned to face the two knights as her long set of snowy hair bounced with her movements.

"Sir Damien, you will be staying here."

She gestured towards the door on the left.

"Lady Getrude."

Her hand pointed to the room across from Damien\'s.

"Waiting on your beds is a change of clothes suited to both of your measurements. Please feel free to take a bath as well. I will be waiting downstairs if you need anything."

The demi-human maiden showed her spiky smile before bowing, moving past the knights back down the corridor.

"I need a raise for this."

Letting out a playful sigh, Damien opened the door to his room.

"Consider the experience your raise. I\'ll see you at the dining hall, Sir Damien."

Giving him a smile, Getrude went her own way into her room.

Stepping into the guest room chosen for him, the size of his room garnered only a single, instinctual response from the knight.

"What the hell?!"

It was larger than his entire house, with an oversized bed surrounded by a thin, crimson curtain. Finding the bathroom--his jaw fell agape at the sight of the bath that spanned the size of his bedroom at his own house.

The colossal bathtub was already filled with heated water, wasting no time to throw his dense armor and sweat-stained undergarments off, allowing himself to sink into the welcoming water.

"Damn, this almost makes this day worth it…"

Damien let out a satisfied sigh, perching his arms on the edge of the porcelain bath. It wasn\'t just the naturally rejuvenating nature of water--a sweet, fruity aroma rose from the water, allowing the tired knight to sink into pits of absolute comfort.

"Sir Damien. Sir Damien...Sir Damien!"

Constant knocking against the door followed alongside the voice that raised in volume, finally shooting Damien\'s eyes open. Flailing about as he returned into consciousness, his limbs sent waves of water over the edge of the bathtub.

"...Crap, I totally passed out on accident," Damien ruffled his own hair, which draped over his shoulders after being released from its ponytail state, "Yeah?"

"Lady Getrude already finished her bath and is waiting in the dining room with everyone else."

He took Myara\'s words as a nice way of saying "Hurry up", which he complied with--lifting himself from the comforting embrace of the bath as water clad itself against his toned body.

Wrapping his lower half with a fluffy white towel and returning his verdant hair into a ponytail, Damien casually opened the door--only to find the dutiful maid was still waiting behind the bathroom door.

"Ah!...Why\'re you still here?"

Damien had nearly dropped his towel, holding a wide-reaching blush as Myara retained her warm smile at the sight of the half-naked knight.

"I was told to escort you to the dining hall."

"...I still need to get dressed. I can find my way to the hall, thank you."

Walking past the maid and to the new change of clothes that rested on the bed, he expected the beast-woman to leave the room--only for her to still stand there in wait.

"Fine...Just wait outside of the bedroom, would you?"

Myara nodded her head in silent compliance, posting herself outside of the guest quarters as Damien finally let out a sigh of relief before getting himself dressed. Even as a symbol of justice and nobility being a knight, the garments prepared for him were exuberant beyond his own tastes. The breeches given to him choked his thighs to fit their shape, sliding the olive tunic over his body as the ruffled collar and sleeves itched against his skin.

Each step he took, he feared that his body would tear through the skin-tight garments, taking each stride carefully as he held his chin up. As he made his way to the dining hall, Damien swore he caught Myara giggling at him as he walked like a newborn calf in the uncomfortable attire.

Awaiting him in the quarters of supper was a sight that made it all worth it--stepping into the room to see the dress that Getrude had been given to change into. The moment she saw him enter the room, noticing his captured gaze--a faint blush filled her fair face as she attempted to hide it by shifting about.

It was in all honesty a simple dress, fluffed at the bottom with narrow sleeves that ran down her slender, yet toned arms. The pale verdant fabric the dress displayed as its primary color formed a set with her emerald irises.

The moment held still in time was interrupted by the sounds of Noah shoveling the food set in front of him down into his throat, eating as if it was his final meal.

Freida was sat in a chair almost comically larger than herself, resting her chin against her hands as she held a wide smile.

"Now, let\'s talk business."