Chapter 6: Gratitude

(Fantasia)

I hated the cold, and this inn was no exception, no matter how inviting the open blaze of the hearth was. The innkeeper was in a very light-weighted tunic and seemed to be sweating profusely even though the hearth was a good ways away from his little desk. Although the innkeeper seemed cordial enough, he seemed to despise us and everyone else in his inn, with particular disdain for the roaring flames before him. 

Some salt-and-pepper flecked Nocturnas were near the flames, discussing questions of the multiverse in low tones as they clawed their black scales off to reveal their fresher, lighter tones they wore in climates like these. 

An assistant of the innkeeper led us upstairs to our private suite while the innkeeper went outside to cool down. The assistant was a slight boy of about twenty-four, with dark, brazed skin and bright tawny eyes. I imagined he wasn’t from these parts and had somehow befriended the innkeeper in his travels. 

He led us to our room without incident but did bow to us as he left. Our room was quite unimpressive and to a great extent, under furnished with two, queen-sized beds, a small kitchen with the fresh ashes of a recently lit flame in the oven, an oaken table with four chairs, a wardrobe with two armour stands next to it, and a balcony to look out upon the walls of the crater we were in. 

There was no gold filigree, no royal violet curtains, no decoration of any kind save for the balcony which was closed in by a tight metal shutter to keep heat in, no running water, and nothing but daylight to see by. There was barely enough metal in the room to make a single coin. I scowled at this, we were royalty! We deserved better than this. My mother looked around the room before sitting down on the bed and nursing our brother. I could only imagine what my father would think...