An Imagined City | With Ustad [NOM/Chain]

A purple-haired woman was lain outstretched under the Plains-scorching sky, lounging upon a satin-covered divan. A book laid beside her, sand covering its pages ever since she had decided it was not interesting enough. A yawn upon her scarlet lips, she stared sleepily at the Sun, and he stared back at her confused. After all, she was lying on a couch stranded in the middle of sandied plainsland, nothing around her except sand and plains. Why would he not be confused?

So how did Zubaidah find herself in this situation, you ask? Well, it was more intentional than you might think.

She had returned from her isolation in the mountains, enlightened about Alma Torran, when she began considering her own world’s problems. Of course, she was one person and one person cannot solve such problems alone, can they? So she wondered about what problem she should make her focus and which person she could make her assistant. After all, she had many favours that she could call in and many friends who shared her ideals.

Indeed, she would soon choose her problem to solve when she found that her horses needed water after their long journey. She would find herself a watering-hole, filled with nomads and travellers, who would inform her about the Plains’ difficulties. It seemed that Tenza’s tribe had continued their excursions, removing Plainspeople from their homes and trade-routes. The tribesmen had claimed several watering-holes as their property, excluding Plainspeople from using them, such that there were tribes wandering the Plains without refuge or respite. On that night, she had decided that it was her duty to provide some solution to this problem.

Yes, she would create her own oasis in the Plains that all Plainspeople might inhabit freely.

Of course, it was well and good that she had decided this course of action, but it was something else that she might put that thought into action itself. For on one hand, she had no experience with city-building. But on the other, she had information on someone who did.

And so, she waited for him upon her satin-covered divan, since her resources and furnishings were now either used or sold. But hey, what could she say? She was a fan of a good divan.

Her wait was soon ended when a silver-haired man came into sight. Zubaidah knew him from his tools and the spot upon his forehead, a feature that identified him as Ustad according to her sources. Of course, she knew that Ustad might have questions about how she received information about him, but she was more than happy to answer if he asked.

To her surprise, however, he seemed to gloss over the issue and discuss the city itself. She was less surprised that Ustad was blunt with her, since Zubaiah had not been specific in her request, but she found his attitude intriguing. It seemed that he cared less who he was working with, and more what he was working on.

‘I must thank you for coming, since I admit that I am lacking in expertise when it comes to city-building.’ As she spoke, she stood from her lonesome divan and joined Ustad’s side, bowing her head with respect towards his arrival. ‘I needed an architect because I was uncertain how I should advance my idea for an oasis city. I knew that one was necessary, but I needed someone adept at such matters to turn my ideas into deeds.’

She looked around the Plains, vast and empty here, and spoke her vision for the future, ‘If I was honest, I had one idea in my mind more than anything else: a city with arches and gates to rival Reim or Balbadd. It was a mad idea, I will concede that, but I hear that you have a tool with the magic to turn that into reality.’

She turned and looked towards his Last Armour, her own Last Armour fastened upon her neck.