The Onyx Throne Pt 01 Ch 20 21

Chapter 20

Mitchell broke the kiss and stepped back from Lethelin feeling dizzy. As he blinked the water from his eyes and looked down at her, she was just coming out of the trance of their first kiss. Her grass-green eyes met his, droplets of mist clinging to each eyelash. Neither said anything for a moment.

"Why did you do that?" Lethelin asked, sounding a little winded.

"It felt like the right thing to do," Mitchell said.

If he had stopped to think about it beforehand, he probably wouldn't have done it. Mitchell didn't even know if people kissed on this world. He might have been committing a huge cultural taboo. She could have taken offense and stuck her wickedly pointed knife in his gut. But she hadn't. She'd leaned into the kiss and returned it with just as much fervor.

Lethelin licked her lips, collecting more moisture from the wellspring on her tongue. She studied him for a moment, then stood up on her toes and pulled him down in the same motion, reinitiating the kiss. There was more heat this time and they wrapped their arms around each other as people came and went through the lush park with no one paying them any mind. Public displays of affection were apparently no problem.

Mitchell felt himself swelling and Lethelin felt it too. As their lips came apart she giggled, eyed him with a devious twinkle in her eye, and pushed her hips into his.

"I hope you're better with your spear than you are with your sword," she said as she leaned in and nipped at his neck.

"I'm going to need a minute before we separate, I think," Mitchell said, feeling his face heat up even with the cool mist of the wellspring soaking him through.

Lethelin gave a throaty laugh as her hands slid down his back and she grabbed two handfuls of his ass.

"Walk close behind me to the fence," she told him with a wicked grin.

She pulled away from him and he did his best to rearrange himself so his erection wasn't obvious and stuck close to her. Luckily, no one seemed to notice.

A few moments later they were at the fence and Mitchell had a chance to see the wellspring in all its glory. The ground just on the other side of the fence sloped sharply down a good ten meters or so into a glimmering crystal blue lake that encircled the wellspring. It didn't look that deep but Mitchell had an idea that his eyes were playing tricks on him. It looked like he could wade across it all the way to the spire but the cerulean depths suggested it was some sort of optical illusion brought on the by the purity of the water.

As he scanned around the huge circumference of the lake, he saw screws that had been sunk into the water and which were pulling it up into large elevated tanks which had pipes running off at different angles. Some of those tanks had other screws connected to them which brought the liquid up even higher. The highest ones connected to aqueducts.

"Those are Archimedes screws!" Mitchell exclaimed. First aqueducts and now the screws.

Lethelin glanced up at him, water trickling down her face, and said "You're doing the thing again where you say words that make no sense."

"It's a thing that was invented over 2,000 years ago on my world," he shouted to be heard over the roar of water crashing down from the spire.

"Well, here we just call them water screws. Not archi... archadema whatever."

Apples. Aquaducts. Archimedes screws. Humans on another world. There were too many coincidences. If he was to be a king on this world, he was determined to figure out its connection to his own.

Marveling at the awesome sight before him, Mitchell noticed something else interesting. There were people hanging down at points all around the perimeter of the lake. He saw them working away at the mineral deposits with small hammers and pick axes. He asked Lethelin about it.

"They're collecting the mineral build-up for use in various alchemical recipes. It's quite useful and it helps maintain the area. There are crews who work daily cleaning up deposits all over the city. The stuff they scrape off the ground and the buildings isn't as useful as the pure deposits from the lake, but it still has to be done. Otherwise, the whole inner city would be coated in the stuff."

Lethelin, grinning, glanced down at his crotch to see if he'd returned to a more appropriate state and, finding him presentable, said they should push on to the bathhouse.

"It's not far. And we definitely need to get you shaved. Your beard is scratchy."

Mitchell reached up and rubbed his hand over his jaw and chin. He'd never grown a beard before. There was one semester in college when he got a little too into the old Seattle grunge thing and had grown a goatee, but once he saw it wasn't doing him any favors with the girls, he'd shaved it off. A razor hadn't touched his face since he'd arrived, however. He was suddenly glad he didn't have a mirror.

Lethelin laced her fingers between his and they veered off to the left and found a path leading out of the park. They passed several other people enjoying the water as they had, and he saw a lot of couples having water-logged picnics. He also noticed more than a few groups of people that were clearly romantically involved--men with multiple women, women with multiple men, and mixed groups of both genders. Race didn't seem to matter much either. Humans with elves, elves with orcs, a handful of dwarves, and a couple of other species he hadn't learned the names of yet.

As they emerged from the last line of trees, Mitchell asked Lethelin about the apparent polyamory that was going on.

"So you can have more than one partner here?"

Lethelin gave him a curious look.

"If you want. Why wouldn't you? Do they not where you're from?"

"I mean, some people do, but it's still a bit of a cultural taboo. Most people who have multiple partners don't advertise it."

Lethelin scoffed.

"Is your whole world made up of Haliks?"

"What do you mean?"

"One of the more fish-brained things they believe is that multiple partners weakens the soul. They call it 'sharing the light'. If you lay with too many people, your soul's light is diminished and you are less able to receive Stollar's blessings."

"Oh," Mitchell said.

"You're only supposed to share your light with one person and that person will be bonded with you in the afterlife for all eternity. So they say."

"Our culture has somewhat similar beliefs, yeah. A lot of it has to do with religion."

Mitchell decided that he hadn't misheard the orc baker earlier when he'd said wives. He must really have had more than one.

"Here people can do what they want," Lethelin continued. "If you only want one partner, you just have one. That's what my mother and father had. She had offers, as I said. But she always said my father was her heart's twin and he was all she ever wanted. She never rebonded after he died."

Her face took on a wistful appearance as she remembered her parents but before Mitchell could ask for more details, she snapped out of her reverie and looked around.

"Anyway, we're here!"

They had emerged from between a couple of beautiful four-story buildings into a plaza. More of the large trees circled another fountain but this one had a large statue at the center, much more impressive than a lot of the other smaller sculptures crowning so many of the public fountains they'd passed as they walked to the spire. This one depicted a four-meter tall voluptuous nude woman carved of midnight black stone with veins of gold running all through it.

Water appeared to be flowing down in a thick stream from the pitcher into a nearly still pool about a meter across surrounded by a wide variety of multicolored flowers that, once again, Mitchell had no name for.

"That's Denass," Lethelin informed him as she saw him staring at the statue.

She was exquisite in every detail. Denass was bent forward holding a water pitcher made of polished gold that gleamed like a small sun in the bright light of morning. Her face was serene and ageless. The smile was loving and welcoming, as if she knew all of your faults, every dark secret and misdeed, but she loved you anyway. Her body was the definition of statuesque. It looked as if, at any moment, she would stop pouring the water and start moving, and he could have sworn he saw strands of the figure's hair blowing in the breeze but when he gave those flowing black tresses a solid look they were as immobile as...well, stone.

The stream pouring out of the golden pitcher appeared unmoving and for a moment Mitchell thought it was some sort of perfectly clear crystal, but as he got closer he saw that there was the barest ripple in the pool as the liquid made contact. But as it flowed out of the pitcher it didn't even shimmer.

Mitchell stood for several heartbeats just staring in awe at the representation of one of this world's gods. He wanted to crawl up on the pedestal and touch it but he didn't see anyone else up there so he figured that would be a bad move. His eyes told him that if he touched it, rather than finding cool stone he would find warm flesh and he was aching to see if he was right.

"Yeah, we get it, she's beautiful. Come on, loverboy!" Lethelin snickered, glancing at his crotch again as she dragged him away. "And don't worry. You're not the first one to react to her that way. Myself, I think she enjoys the attention."

"She looks so real," was all he could say as she pulled him to the other side of the fountain and stopped in front of a large circular building.

The exterior of the bathhouse was made of a cream-colored marble stone that had similar veins of gold running through it as the statue. The large entryway was flanked on either side by two statues of women carved in the same black stone as the statue of Denass dressed in gossamer white robes with their hands reaching skyward in a gesture of supplication. Above them water flowed from the mouths of two faces carved into the marble, one male and one female, between the women's hands and onto their heads before cascading down their bodies.

The building itself was three stories tall and faced with windows that ran the entire circumference from what Mitchell could see. Carved all along the surface were scenes that Mitchell assumed were from this world's past, or from folk tales. It reminded him a lot of the kind of things he would see on cathedrals back home.

Lethelin informed him that the upper floors were for the really rich people. The bulk of the bathhouse was underground and extended at least five levels as far as she knew. Possibly more.

"Can we afford this?" Mitchell asked, as she led him up the wide staircase towards two large brass doors where two very muscular humans, one white and one black, stood in loincloths. As they approached, the men moved in sync and pulled the doors open on silent hinges.

"Yep! Come on, let's get you cleaned up. I bet you're a pretty slick fish once you've properly bathed."

Chapter 21

The inside of the Maiden's Mist reminded Mitchell of a fancy hotel lobby. The air was substantially cooler than the humid desert heat outside, so much so that Mitchell wondered if they had somehow discovered air conditioning without the benefit of electricity. Probably something magical, he concluded. He was irritated for a moment at being born into a universe that had almost no mana but the thought quickly fell away as he took in the palatial setting.

The space was elegantly appointed with more statuary of what he assumed were depictions of various gods, plus some other things that looked like sea creatures to fit with the water theme. Some were beautiful mermaid-like beings while others looked terrifying with too many tentacles, fangs, eyes, or fins. Large broad-leaved plants and trees were spread around the circular space and it felt a little like a greenhouse. The air was so thick with the scent of flora that Mitchell imagined he could almost taste the exotic flavor of the foreign greenery on his tongue.

A handful of people moved about the lobby in various stages of undress. He identified the staff of the bathhouse quickly enough. They were all beautiful and in excellent shape. The males were almost uniformly tall and looked like they stepped out of a Men's Health magazine and the women appread to be heading for a photo shoot on a tropical island somewhere. Most of the staff looked human but there were a few elves walking among them as well as some that looked like a hybrid between the two with less sharply pointed ears and eyes less dramatically slanted than their fellow elves. Their clothing was also similar. The women on the staff wore one-piece garments that wrapped around their necks, crossed over their breasts and became short skirts around their waists. It left plenty of cleavage exposed and their midriffs were completely bare. The men wore loincloths and some had a loose-fitting vest not that dissimilar from the one he wore, while others were bare-chested and glistening. Some were carrying supplies. Others were escorting guests, most of which were wearing robes and some of which were almost nude themselves.

He felt more than a little out of place as they walked towards a circular reception desk made of a deep ebony-colored wood. They were wearing the same clothes they had been for the last several days and, while the water from the spire had helped in washing away some of the road dust, it also left them with streaks of ruddy brown all over his exposed skin where it hadn't been fully washed off. To his dismay, he also saw they were leaving muddy footprints on the polished sandstone-colored floor. He was sure at any moment a staff member would ask them to leave, but no one did.

There was a man and a woman behind the desk and they weren't wearing the gossamer robes of the other staff. The woman, a short but curvy human female with blonde hair and honey-brown eyes was wearing a blouse that was cinched tight around ample hips and flared open at the neck to expose breasts that were almost popping out. The man beside her was slightly taller than Mitchell but in substantially better shape. His oiled muscled shined in the soft light of the magical flames encircling the room and his hair was cut close to his head. His shirt was just as tight as the woman's and seemed to be tailored to accentuate every bulge on his chest. If either of them cared about Mitchell's and Lethelin's rough and dirty appearance they didn't give any sign. Mitchell guessed they must get people in like them all the time since this city appeared to be a bit of a hub between the mountains and the capital.

After some intense haggling between Lethelin and the hostess, the diminutive thief managed to knock off a gold piece - or fang, as it was referred to here - from the price, a fact which seemed to please her immensely. For some reason during the exchange, the hostess kept glancing at some runes that were carved along the surface of the desk. Mitchell was unsure what she was looking for there but - whatever it was - she didn't seem to find it.

"Enjoy your stay at The Maiden's Mist, if it be Stollar's desire," the woman said, her smile forced and her lips tight.

Lethelin pulled the strings on her coin purse tight and secreted it away somewhere inside her cloak.

"Under his shining light, I have every confidence that we will," Lethelin chirped back, her face all smiles and thanks as she pointedly ignored the near scowl of the woman behind the counter.

There was a little discussion as Lethelin gave a description of Allora and Revos but Mitchell noticed that she did not provide names.

Finally, all details settled, the woman rang a small bell. From nearby, a young human woman gave a small bow with her hands clasped demurely in front of her waist. She looked no older than 18 but had long, deep brown hair reaching down to her lower back.

"Please escort our guests to the Silver Grotto and place them in suites twelve and thirteen," the hostess instructed.

"If it is Stollar's desire, it will be so," the petite young woman answered.

Then, looking at Lethelin and Mitchell, she said, "If you would please follow me."

She turned sharply on her heel and headed left away from the desk towards a large staircase that went down. Mitchell and Lethelin followed a few paces behind, her arm hooked into his.

"Priestesses," Lethelin said, her voice pitched low so their guide would not overhear. "No sense of humor."

Mitchell raised an eyebrow at her.

"That woman is a priestess?"

"All the staff here are either priests, priestesses, or acolytes of Stollar. Very uptight."

"Was it a good idea to say that her mother had been mounted by a--" Mitchell paused to try and remember what Lethelin had remarked during the negotiations. "By a 'bankrupt horker breeder'? I don't think she liked that very much."

"I didn't say it," Lethelin corrected him quickly. "Implied, sure. But I didn't say it."

Lethelin gave him a big grin and he heard their guide gasp at the apparent insult.

Seeing the look on his face, she assured him they would not be getting arrested for blasphemy or anything like that. Mitchell only somewhat believed her.

****

After following their guide down three levels and through a long hall bathed in a silvery glow from hovering mage lights along the walls, Mitchell had come to the conclusion that these people loved art. Almost every surface was decorated in some way, either with topiary, frescoes, mosaics, scenes in bas-relief, statues, or paintings.

He and Lethelin were shown to their private rooms which he was told had adjoining doors. Lethelin said she would check on him in about an hour and recommended he take a long soak and scrub himself from head to toe. A shaving kit would be delivered and he could chop off his beard if he wanted.

The room would have passed for a four or five-star hotel back home, possibly at some resort. It was one large square that had been cut straight into the rock. He estimated it was perhaps eight meters across and ten meters deep. The central feature was obviously the tub, although calling it that didn't quite do it justice.

The far end of the room opposite the door was a rather large bathing pool that could have fit six or seven people comfortably. Carved into the back wall was a bas-relief of an underwater garden. Coming out of the wall were statues of two mer creatures, a male and a female judging by their chest anatomy, although their faces were far more fish-like than human. They were each holding a silver pitcher that was angled to pour but no water was coming out. The floor of the bathing pool was done in a dazzling mosaic of two moons transiting a night sky, obviously meant to represent Ithstasy and Vish. On one side, were seats formed out of the stone and on the other was a section that looked like it was made for lying down in but was raised high enough to keep one's head above the water.

Along the wall near the door was a plush bed that looked so comfortable Mitchell almost forgot about bathing. Just the thought of sleeping in a real bed made him groan. He'd been camping each night on the ground for more days than he could properly remember. If it weren't for the thought of ruining the clean bedding he would have collapsed into it straight away.

There was also a table that could seat four, as well as some long sofas and a loveseat spaced around the room. Everything was done in pale blues and greens that he found incredibly soothing. A small sectioned-off area revealed a strange-looking toilet. He saw no handles or levers that might bring in water or flush but he did see three silvery seashells that were inset into a small recess into the wall next to the toilet and he resolved to figure it out later. And he once again marveled at the apparent parallel evolution on this world. A clam was a clam no matter the universe, he guessed.