Smaragdos, city of stone flowers

As it turned out – some time later, when they actually reached their new destination –, Celsian had been right; Smaragdos was a gem of a city, and seemed to have come directly out of a fairy tale: even though it wasn’t as imposing and majestic as Kruos – it had to be expected, though, since the latter was the capital of the kingdom –, there was something magical, mesmerising, about the architecture itself, with its high pinnacles and glass spires, connected by elegant arches, as well as with the green grains that meandered along the cream-coloured walls of the town buildings and created flowery patterns on them. Actual plants and flowers were everywhere, but one of the most fascinating things was the presence of numerous sculptures depicting various elements of nature in such a detailed way that they seemed alive. Cherry on top, despite being quite the important city, it was small enough to be comfortable and not to get lost into, which Opal appreciated. The residents too seemed generally happy to be there.

So, of course, to the surprise of absolutely no-one, she was looking at everything with her nose in the air, in an effort to print in her mind as many details as possible. It was truly a tragedy that there were no cameras in that world full of examples of splendid architecture.

“Opal, please watch your step before you-”

She heard her friend’s warning, but it came a bit too late and not even a second later, in pure Opal fashion, she tripped with a yelp and found herself on the colourful ground, composed by yellow and green stones – very pretty, she had to admit, even though admiring it up close hadn’t exactly been her intention –.

Celsian winced as if she’d felt second-hand hurt. “-fall.”

“Ouch” Opal commented, pulling herself in a more upright position and dusting her hands off. She knew she should’ve paid more attention to her immediate surroundings and less to the architecture, especially when she was walking, but how could she resist when everything was so interesting? Moreover, they didn’t know if they would’ve had the opportunity to visit calmly again – there was the very distinct possibility that they would’ve had to escape from the city, after all –, so she had to take that chance.

“You okay?” Celsian asked with a lopsided smile on her face, that was half concerned and half amused, extending a hand in her direction. She was now wearing a dress that matched Opal’s one and had her hair styled in a different manner, in order to appear a touch less recognisable. For the moment, it was working – it would’ve probably been totally useless if someone who actually knew her met her, but for anyone else it should’ve sufficed –, also because, as Ametrine had told them, there weren’t many guards patrolling around.

“Yes, don’t worry.” Opal took her offer and let herself be helped to get back on her feet. “For better or for worse, I’m used to this” she said, dusting her legs off too.

Celsian snorted. “I can’t imagine why.”

“Hey, you two!”

At the sound of Ametrine’s voice, they both turned around. Like Celsian, she’d had to change her hairstyle – for which she had enlisted their help, since she had never bothered to learn more than one way to tie her hair –, but for the rest she’d just forgone her armour, even though she’d adamantly refused to part from her sword – she was right to say that she would’ve needed it if they had to fight their way through security measures, and they hadn’t found the strength to try and convince her to leave it behind, even though it was a dead giveaway if someone knew what to search for –. They weren’t used to see her without her armour, but she also seemed a whole other person if one ignored the sword attached to her hip, so their main goal was achieved. In her hands there were three straw hats, and she seemed disgruntled.

“Ah, you’re finally back!” Celsian exclaimed, clapping her hands.

“I did not stay in the shop for long, but you have somehow managed to disappear from my sight in record time.”

Okay, so maybe getting lost in Smaragdos was easier than what Opal had first assumed, especially if you were a tourist, but what else was she supposed to do? “In our defence, it’s truly an amazing city” she said. “We couldn't simply stay put.”

“Right?” Celsian grinned, flapping her hands in pure excitement, while her eyes sparkled with glee. “Did you notice the stained glasses?”

“Yes! They're beautiful!” Opal surely shared her feelings. On the windows, the most recurring motifs were the sword ones, like in Kruos, but whenever they were present they were always surrounded by flower patterns of all kinds, which accentuated the illusion of being in some sort of magical flower garden. It was no wonder at all that her friend had wanted to return there.

“Oh, Opal, please, not you too.”

“One of these days you’ll understand what it means to enjoy life outside of your duty, I’m sure of it” Celsian commented, rolling her eyes. “Anyway, give me that hat!” she said, pointing at the one with a big yellow flower stitched on the top and completely changing the topic at the same time.

By the look on Ametrine’s face, she seemed a bit disconcerted, but she wordlessly handed the object to the thief nonetheless. Or, maybe, she was so disconcerted that she didn’t know how to react. Celsian had that effect on people, after all.

The latter pushed the hat on her head and smiled, delighted. “How do I look?”

“Like a kindergartener, so I guess it still serves our purpose” the knight answered, perfectly serious, as if the undercurrent of sarcasm that characterised pretty much all of her interactions with the other wasn’t even there.

Celsian knew better, of course. It was their usual dance, after all, and they were both keenly aware of each and every one of its steps, having performed it time and time again. “Oh really? Well then, in this case…” She grinned and, in one fluid motion, grabbed one of the two remaining hats and happily pushed it on Ametrine’s head. “There, now we’re matching!”

“Hey!” The knight used one hand to grasp the hem of the object, which sported a big purple flower on the top, fuming more or less visibly at Celsian’s behaviour.

“If you want, we can trade” Opal offered, thinking she didn’t like it and gesturing at the remaining hat, which was a simple straw one, devoid of any patches or decorations. “I don’t mind.”

Ametrine thought about it for a second, but then sighed and shook her head. “No, it’s fine.” She smiled tentatively, and it was a touch awkward, but it was nice. That expression, paired with the new outfit, made her seem way younger; lighter, even, as if at least a part of the worries weighting her down had lifted for the time being. For an instant, Opal was startlingly reminded of the girl in her dreams: she seemed older than what she probably was, too, and Opal briefly wondered what she could’ve looked like if she was more carefree. She was distracted from those thoughts, however, when Ametrine continued to talk. “We mainly need them to protect ourselves from the sun, after all” she said, gently putting the hat on Opal’s head. They probably still attracted some level of attention, but it was better to pass as funny tourists rather than suspicious people.

“And we also get to have nice souvenirs from this trip. A win-win situation!” Celsian exclaimed, always seeing the bright side of things and living the time of her life while she was at it. Opal dearly hoped they wouldn't have had to run from that city with guards hot on their heels, that time. “Anyway, let’s go! Information won’t gather on its own!”

That said, they headed for the city centre, where there was the Guildhall. By asking to the townspeople, they had discovered that it was where Rutile had his office, open to the public during the day for those who needed his help, and so they had decided that they could’ve as well tried first the legal way in order to talk to him, to Ametrine’s satisfaction and peace of mind and to Celsian’s disappointment – Opal had needed to reassure her that, yes, they would’ve used at least a bit of blackmail if nothing else worked –. When they reached the main square, however, they instantly spotted a ridiculously long queue in front of an elegant albeit somewhat sober building, that could only be the Guildhall.

“… what the hell” Celsian commented, stopping in her tracks.

Opal brought a hand to her mouth, pensive. “Maybe something happened? Wait here a second, I’ll go and ask.” She got closer and approached a few of the people who were at the end of the line. “Good morning! I’m sorry, are you all waiting to meet Rutile?” What was his surname again? Opal had to make an effort to remember it, but then, finally… Ah, yes! “Rutile Titania?”

One of the people, a distinguished man, waved a finger in front of her eyes, a disapproving look on his face. “You should address him as Lord Titania!” he exclaimed, sounding more upset than her parents and teachers put together when she disrespected her elders. Was Rutile that important of a person? “However, yes, we are here to meet him, or try at least. Many of us may have to return tomorrow, though, since we have not arrived at dawn nor slept in front of the door.” Wait, was he serious? He sure seemed so. A few seconds passed, but he didn't change expression. Oh dear, she realised with horror, he’s serious.

Opal wasn’t sure she had managed to maintain some semblance of poker face – the fact that she had never won a single poker game in her life should’ve probably given her a clear answer –, but who could blame her? From that man’s words, Rutile seemed that world’s equivalent of an idol. It was a bit much, if you asked her. “I… see. Thank you for your time.” Even though he ought to have a lot of it in front of him, to be honest, if he was there since who knew when. “Good luck.”

He nodded, focusing his attention elsewhere, and she returned to her comrades.

“So?” Celsian inquired when she was close enough.

“So, your ex-classmate moved up in the world and became a pop star, apparently.”

Her friend was puzzled, to say the least. “Sorry, he became a what exactly?”

“A very important person, as we call people like him where I come from. I swear, I’ve seen less people waiting to talk to the actual king.”

“Okay, so… what about that queue?”

Opal shook her head, dejected. She knew she was on the cusp of crushing all of Celsian’s remaining strands of hope, but she couldn't do anything about it. “It’s better if we get in line.” She glanced at it. Not even a minute had passed, and a few new people were already there. “As in, right now. Better we get ready to wait an eternity, I guess.”

Her comrades didn’t seem thrilled at the perspective – only Rutile’s fans would’ve been, probably –, but still they steeled their hearts and did as she’d told them.

They waited together for a glorious half-hour, before Opal started getting impatient. Another one, and Celsian joined her in her frustration. After two hours spent just standing there under the southern sun – the straw hats had been a very good idea –, even Ametrine, who was a trained knight and was used to stand guard, was restless.

“What is happening now? The line stopped moving” she said with a frown, unnervingly tapping her fingers on her arm.

“Lord Titania is on his lunch break” a woman from the queue answered her.

“Ah.”

Ametrine’s tapping grew faster, while Celsian, who had long since chosen to sit on the ground, groaned in desperation.

“I told you we should’ve just gone with the kidnapping.”

The knight for once didn’t rebuke, a calculating look in her eyes, as if she was actually considering the idea, and Opal decided that it was a good moment to remind them that they needed to eat too. They took turns to stretch their legs and – thanks to Ametrine’s savings – buy food at nearby stalls, losing as much time as they could, but it didn’t take them long anyway.

At some point the line of people started moving again, but, hours and hours later, Opal’s group had officially run out of ideas of things to do to fill the boredom. Celsian had shown them all of her best and super-secret magic tricks with rocks, Opal had completely depleted her stock of games, and Ametrine, after having gone through her workout routine – twice –, had been desperate enough to bend to their pleas and participate in their impromptu activity of sharing silly anecdotes with each other. It would’ve been a wonderful bonding experience, truly, if the knight herself wasn’t seriously considering crime as an acceptable alternative to the prospect of waiting even more.

After having managed to enter the Guildhall and another small eternity, at least from their point of view, the line finally, finally cleared, but the door to Rutile’s office, now visible, slammed shut in front of them. Apparently, the opening time had just reached its end for that day.

“Oh no, you do not” Ametrine murmured under her breath, stomping closer to the door with her fists clenched, with all the boiling determination of someone who had had to wait and stand under the sun for hours and hours.

“I like your energy” Celsian commented, smiling and giving her a thumbs up. Then, as an afterthought, she added: “… When it isn’t directed at me, of course.”

Ametrine forcefully opened the door, and the thief popped inside the office, soon followed by the two of them.

“Good afternoon, buddy, may we request a last-minute meeting?” she asked, waving a hand in greeting, her grin full of teeth.

What answered her, from behind a wooden desk full to the brim with books and papers, was the voice of someone who was absolutely done with his job. “Oh, no, not again.”