Ad aperturam libri.
-- Port city of Vasshain --
The grey sand of the beach stretched out on both sides, curving out slowly as if to embrace the pale sea beyond. Tiny silver fish flitted about the shallows, under the gaze of Rathtia-Tassakahn. The tall woman stood, clad completely in intricately-woven red robes and adorned with a silver mask gilded with a pattern of flames, transfixed by the small creatures.
Basur'ith-Tassakahn, a few paces to her right, stretched his jaws.
"This," He turned to her and smiled, "is a fine day, do you not think?"
Rathtia clasped gloved hands. "Yes, certainly, it is," She replied, turning her attention from the glimmering mass of water to a sizable ship exiting the docks, long and sleek in it's wooden form. A gull of sorts cried overhead. This was the port city of Vasshain. The land that they - she and her husband - ruled over for over for three years now.
"Rathtia," Basur'ith reached out and placed a clawed hand on her shoulder, so that she turned to him, and the quills along the back of his lond skull quivered slightly. She tilted her head at the green eyes that were, in the light of the morning, so piercing. "you need not be afraid. You know this, yes?"
She stepped closer to him and curled her arms around him. Her robes fluttered in the sea-born breeze that presently swept tiny grains of sand into Basur'ith-Tassakahn's boots.
"Of course, my husband. I am ready, as soon as the Shepherds call for me."
"I am glad to have that news," He rested his jaw on her head - being somewhat taller that his wife - and continued, "because they have."
Rathtia took a step back. "So soon! When do they wish for me to be at the hall?"
"At noon, if it is possible for us to be there."
"You come, too?"
Basur'ith smoothed his quills. "Unquestionably, my wife."
"Then, let us go and ressurect our Oracle." Rathtia nodded, slowly. "I am to be the Oracle of the Shepherds. That is an honour. None greater."
Her husband took her hands in his. "Very well."