"I fear... there iss much to worry about."

It was a solemn regard, spoken by the pale creature of which turned his head akin to an animal, peeking the looming command that was the Dragons Palace. If only such a place lay in ruin, if only it were to crumble into fine particles of forgotten affluence and buried under it's own arrogance. The creatures who ran the show were curiously unforgiving. Judging by the reptilian eyes, they seemed to be the only ones of Dragon descent, the Emperor and his little, bitter-hearted hier. Sindre thought, on any other day, he would be comforted by the promise of care and food on his terms, but this world above the surface wrung any sense of luxury from the proposal. 

There. Large, imposing crimson pillars welcomed them with an impressively sized gate. The walk to the palace had been silent on many parties-- no one had anything worth saying another, and Sindre considered himself a little too stunned from his fake escapade to wish the formation of words. His feet slapped against elaborate tile, cold but not discomforting to him, aside from the few pieces of glass gifted to him by karma. Once the Emperor found out, what would become of his outlandish attempt at escaping? Worse yet, if the Prince found out...

They were presented to a rectangular door, a smaller one with less grandiose to it than other parts of the building, not that the merman could discern what made one door fancier than another. It was knocked precisely three times, then opened slowly, with the motion of a guard that the boys were to enter. The room was warm, kept alight and comforted by the crackle of a fire lodged into the wall. Chairs settled around it, long, bleached fabric that had been fixated to legs and cushion-stuffing. A table settled in the middle, topped with books that were dangerously close to toppling from the size of their piles, like knowledge-filled towers. There was a presence in the room, at the side furthest from the dimming light of the flames. A desk, once again, decorated with books, sat a creature content to scribble in ink and write down findings. It had hair not unlike the merman, white and pale, but with more silvery toned strung through-out, fashioned into a thick braid that fell over his robed shoulder. 

Once again, the eyes were undeniable. A strangely intelligent tone of lime, characteristically spiked by a reptilian pupil. His orbs were partially hidden behind thin, squared spectacles, which now found themselves pulled from his face, one of a man in his thirties, and folded gently between his fingers. "You are not palace staff, nor dragons from what I can pique... so I must inquire, what brings your presence to my attention, gentlemen?" His voice was eloquent, well pronounced in a language that was not his first. Soft, with a grace and upbrought way about it. As too, was the hand that gentle motioned to the chairs in his, as it would appear to be, study. "Do take a seat. The only reason I can fathom that you bless me with a visit is that one or both of you are injured or unwell. Since I can keenly scent your essence, I'll assume you're both bleeding." The tiny crimson rivulets were apparent on Sindre's chest, but it was the blood from Amanti's foot that sought the old creatures nose.

Glasses placed upon the bridge of his face once more, the fire dimmed marginally as a log crumbled into ashes. "With lumps on your heads, too. Care to divulge as to how you came to meet with such injuries, gentlemen? So that I may better assess treatment for you both-- it would help to divulge the species you belong to." This man, who stepped akin to a paw-print in the snow and spoke like wings over water, was apparently, Doctor Lei.