1.1.2

Uluh Zin's heart began to race as he saw the commotion at the end of the hall. Servants bustled back and forth in and out of doorways near the main entrance, some carrying flowerpots and statues, while others laid the traditional blood-red floor mats in front of the massive stone doors. Uluh clutched his digipad to his chest as he awkwardly ran to catch up with the man in the dark suit.

"Elder Tollen," he gasped as he approached, pushing his glasses back up his nose. he received no answer. "Elder Tollen," he repeated as he caught up to the man's side.

"Hello, Uluh," said Tollen, a stocky, dark man, old enough to be Uluh's grandfather. The medals running down his sleeve rattled as he walked. His wrinkled face betrayed his true nature. Even at his age, Tollen was in perfect physical condition, and would his rank not prevent it, he would gladly pick up a sword and fight on the battlefield himself.

"Isn't she early?" Uluh asked the older man.

"Yes, Uluh." he abruptly replied.

Uluh pressed a button on his digipad, and waited for a response from the book-sized device. After a moment, it beeped, and displayed the week's schedule. He scanned the screen.

"A few days early, according to-" Uluh looked up at Tollen. The Elder was in no mood for such conversation. Uluh powered off his digipad. There was a pause, and Tollen sighed.

"Yes Uluh, it would seem so." The two spent the rest of the walk in silence.

By the time they reached the doors, the servants had finished their work. The mats were all in place, creating a walkway lined on either side with stands displaying the imperial standard, the silhouette of a horned woman. As the pair approached the doors, the doors let out a hydraulic hiss, and slowly began to open. Tollen and Uluh stepped out into the wind and darkness of the cliffside landing pad, just in time to see the black craft drop out of the clouds.