The Malias region of Tromalius was mainly mountainous, with peaks so high that they seemed to be reaching the sky. The mountains were glistening white and light grey with milky rivers, streams and lakes running through them. The rugged beauty of this landscape surely left the beholder in its awe as it did Xiran.

"There," Sulran pointed towards the ridge of the mountains, where white globe-like structures had been constructed. These must be their abodes, Xiran thought to himself as they swiftly landed outside one such structure.

The strong wind had tussled their hair and Xiran tried untangling them with his fingers and adjusted the long white robe-type costume he was wearing.

He realised that the globe had been constructed out of tree bark and its leaves, just like a wooden house would be with white paint.

The door was rather small in size as Sulran knocked on it and it opened, inviting them inside. Both of them slightly bent their heads and entered the strangely-looking house.

It was a long passageway with white fumes on the walls, lighting the path that led to an open space with a dome-shaped ceiling.

"Welcome to my humble abode," a sweet feminine voice welcomed them and Xiran found himself staring at a beautiful middle-aged woman with snow-white hair and Celeste blue eyes.

Donning a shiny silver gown and jewellery created from beads, pearls and gemstones of multi colours. The woman stood in the open space with a subtle smile, her curious eyes fixed on Xiran. Her stature was rather short, about 5 feet in height.

She slightly bowed seeing Sulran and he raised his fingers to his forehead as did Xiran in a gesture to greet her.

"What brings you here? Prince Sulran," she humbly asked as Xiran curiously gazed around, taking in the jars, bottles and vials that lined the shelves on the wall opposite him.

"Moiga! This is my nephew, Xiran. He recently received his markings and I want you to inspect them and inform us of their hidden meanings and power," Sulran made the introductions.

"Certainly, but I didn’t know you had a nephew," she gestured for them to take seats on circular wooden stools.

"It’s a long story, he just returned to us," Sulran added taking a seat and Xiran followed him. Moiga proceeded to the table in the corner with a jug and a couple of glasses on it. She filled them with a light blue liquid from the jug and sauntering over, she offered them the drinks.

"Thank you!" both men took the glasses from her and sipped the drink. It tasted similar to berries but a bit tangent. Xiran wondered what it was made up of.

Moiga eyed him with a sexy smirk, she hadn’t seen a Silver Blood that handsome in a long time and she craved such men. Her race, the magic-bearing race, was shorter in stature as compared to Hawsires and Karltians, who had been blessed with tall heights.

"Thanks for the drink, let’s get to the task at hand," Sulran placed the glass on the table and Xiran followed his lead.

"Yes, if you would show me your markings, I would be able to translate them for you," Moiga eyed Xiran and he didn’t appreciate the look she carried.

But he did as he was told, wanting to get this over with. He threw open his chiton from above his waist and Moiga’s eyes almost bulged out from the shock she received seeing the inky pattern.

"For the love of Kalci (the goddess, Malikus worshipped) such raw and potent power," she exclaimed, drawing near him and extending her hand. Her long and pointed nails grazed and followed the pattern as she stared at it with wide eyes and mouth slightly agape.

Xiran tensed under her touch as her fingers brushed against his warm skin.

"You are a marvel. A true spectacle of the remarkable force that is coursing through your body. It is emanating a captivating aura of vitality and strength," she murmured, clearly awe-stricken by what she was seeing.

"What do you mean?" Sulran questioned, drawing near them so she could explain. Xiran just stood there with a creased forehead unable to comprehend what was intriguing this petite woman in front of him.

"See these patterns," she pointed to his torso and all the way up to his neck.

"Yes?"

"Well, they indicate strength, physical and mental. He is extremely strong and no one can rival him in that department at least not on Tromalius. And this here, she pointed to patterns on his arm, means he can shield himself and the people he wants to protect against an attack. It also indicates that foreign powers won’t work on him, unless and until he meets someone stronger than him. Which I highly doubt," she explained.

"And of course you know the usual circular and triangle patterns. I am sure you have explained to him how he can teleport and call other Malikus for help using them."

Both men listened quietly as she made revelation after revelation. Xiran was too stunned to speak.

"And this," she pointed to a very small pattern that looked similar to a heart, "It means his body and soul belong to someone. Someone he deeply loves and cares about and because of whom this pattern originated in the first place because that is the starting point. Do you have a Sernera?" She pointedly asked, raising a single eyebrow at him.

"I do," Xiran stared at that small heart-like point, the size of a large dot. This was all because of his love for her.

"Ah! That’s disappointing though, you would have made one specimen for my collection," Moiga teased, withdrawing her hand from his body, learning he was a committed man.

"Moiga! You never give up. Spare my nephew, he is about to go through a bonding ritual. His heart and soul are booked," Sulran clasped his hand around Xiran’s shoulder in pride. A beaming smile lit up his face learning how powerful and special his nephew was.

"I know. I don’t go for committed men and this one is special and so does his Sernera because his markings will listen to her more than him. They originated only because of her, so it’s more like her power," Moiga explained, taking a step back and pointing to that spot. A wry smile graced her lips.