The Museum

[Azjah von Drachen Walde]

The Museum

Azjah rose at 4:00 AM which is her usual time. She had things to do in RhyDin, but the thing weighing most on her mind was the trip to the Museum. On Rigel, her family had been a great patron of the arts. Since she’d been in RhyDin, there had not been much to support. But she’d found the city’s museum, such as it was, and now she had a new cause.

The building is located in the Old Temple District, which had been hit very hard in the recent violence and genocide that had gripped the area. Karen Wilder, the Commander of the Templars, had said that most of the Catholics had fled the area and settled in other regions, foregoing any chance of return to the district. That left many empty homes and businesses where remnants of the aggressors could lurk and cause small pockets of trouble.

Rakeesh had also said that recovery in Old Temple would take a long time due to the level of destruction that had been wrought there. But the museum had remained standing through it all. The old, ornate building was made of stout stone, and had weathered the violence better than most of the surrounding structures. Unfortunately, the collections in the Natural History wing were nothing spectacular, and as such, would do little to bring in badly needed revenue.

Gifts, donations would help the museum survive, but without renovation and additions to their collections, the museum could not possibly survive. Azjah planned on trying to remedy some of the shortfall in the Natural History wing, where her passions lay. Here she could do something useful by providing the museum with valuable additions that might help bring in new visitors and badly needed revenue.

Last evening, she had discussed the museum with Xeric, and on an impulse, had invited him to join her today. The Russian had surprised her by accepting her invitation, and so she prepared herself for the outing. She chose a silvery grey silk suit for the day. The fitted skirt swept just below her knees, and the slit in the back came half way up her thigh. The jacket was fitted, but still allowed the concealment of her weapon and shoulder holster. The black silk blouse had a high collar and hidden buttons. She kept the upswept chignon, and slid the three platinum picks into her braids before adding a platinum and sapphire necklace to rest atop the obsidian silk as a starfield against infinity appeared. Matching earrings and bracelet completed the ensemble.

She arrived at the Baron’s home in Dragon’s Gate five minutes before she had promised him that she would be there. Gabriel was not by her side today, but Eoin was, and Azjah suspected that the Russian might be more comfortable with Eoin about. He exited the Maybach and rang at the front door of the manor house, speaking to the retainer who had answered his ring. “Please give the Baron greetings from the Marchioness von Triberg. She has arrived and awaits his pleasure for their appointment to visit the Museum.” Eoin gave the retainer the Marchioness’ personal card and a brief bow before returning to the Maybach to await the Baron.

[Xavior Mues]

He rolled to face the window, still unable to relax his mind
enough for sleep to claim him. Xeric tossed and tumbled restlessly in his
bed. Pale moon light shone through the window, stretching across the
Russian’s bare form where he lay seeking repose.

The soft sound of foot steps approaching his open door brought
him upright into a sitting position on the edge of his over-sized bed. A
slight form stepped from darkness into the moon light, which shone through the door and into the hall beyond. Xeric immediately recognized the dark hair, the flawless ivory skin, and the beautiful woman to whom they belonged. Leaning forward in slow motion, he reached for her.

With a gasp, Xeric woke up abruptly. A sharp stab of
disappointment knifed through him as he realized it was only a dream. He managed to calm himself with several deep breaths, and freed his thoughts from the extremely vivid dream. Giving a soul-deep sigh, the proud Russian, who was a five time Baron, the current Baron of Dragon’s Gate, the Lord of Mues, the man who called himself as hard as a nail in a coffin, and the lovesick fool that he was, laid back and stared at the stars until dawn broke over the horizon.

Dawn brought with it activity. A means of keeping the vivid dream at
bay. He stirred from his bed, where he'd found no peace the night before,
to begin morning ablutions in preparation for his trip to the Museum.



Standing before his vanity mirror, Xeric was tying the last of
several small, silvery,bells into his hair. He had decided to continue
wearing the twin braids, and the bells, after speaking with the
Marchioness; they managed to hold her attention, perhaps they would catch someone else’s attention as well. With one last glimpse at his appearance, he turned away from his mirror and stepped out of his dressing room door. His hard soled boots made a sharp snap upon the stones with his every step; the marble halls of the Dragon’s Gate Manor echoed, the sounds reminding him of how empty it really was.
“M’lord, the Marchioness and her escorts are waiting your
appearance in the great hall.” One of the many servants, that Xeric hadn’t
gotten used to, stated in a dry tone. Without a reply, Xeric continued
into the Great Hall.

[Xavior Mues]

With a wince, Xeric set the steaming mug of coffee back on to the table
top. “I’ve got to remember that steam means hot.” He mumbled to himself.

The trip to the museum with Azjah had been one of the most interesting
things he had done in sometime. The Marchioness seemed to have a love of old rocks and things of the sort. She grew very animated during the discussions with the Curator about donations for the exhibits. Azjah’s
request for a donation had the Russian unconsciously scratching his chin.
“There must be something old and interesting around here, well, besides
me.” He said with a grin.

“Forgive me milord, but I’m not sure I heard you correctly.” A
grizzled, bent, old servant said in response to Xeric's odd comment. The
Baron replied by shaking his head. “Nothing.” Xeric abandoned his coffee
and stepped through the kitchen door, heading out toward the back of the
manor properties. After a few exercises to loosen the muscles in his legs,
the Russian fell into a ground covering run away from the manor. His
loose, loping gait, carried him through the Dragon’s Gate district, out the
Battlefield Park gate, and into the woods of Battlefield park.

The sound of deeply drawn, slow breaths, and the dull thud of
boots hitting the forest floor, were the only signs of Xeric’s presence in
the woods of Battlefield Park. The Russian fell out of his stride, pressed
one hand against a tree, and swept his eyes over his immediate
surroundings. His brief visual search revealed trees, little undergrowth,
and a few scattered rocks. Still pulling his breath slowly and deeply,
Xeric leaned over, grabbed one of the rocks, and threw it at a tree forty
paces away. The Russian leaned over to grab another rock; however, the
rock he chose wouldn’t budge as he attempted to lift it from the ground.
Using his hard soled boots, the Russian kicked the ground around the stone to loosen it and unsuccessfully tried to pick the rock up again.

Stripped to the waist, the Russian noticed the sun was only
twice it’s height from the western horizon. “I’ve spent the entire day
playing with this rock.” He growled. The five by seven foot boulder he had managed to uncover with his hands and his belt knife laid to his left. The rock seemed to be made of slate on the bottom and had been intruded by Granite. The granite had a very high content of both Biotite and Muscovite, which gave it an enchanting glitter. The metamorphic boundary between the sedimentary rock and the igneous one had created a garnet rich zone that added to the sparkle. Xeric's specimen was a beautiful example of igneous intrusion creating a contact metamorphic boundary with sedimentary rock.
“Azjah, better appreciate this. Women and the trouble
they cause men.” He mused to himself. With a sigh Xeric fell back into a
run towards the manor; he needed help to move the boulder.