“To live is the rarest thing in the world. Most people exist, that is all.”
- Oscar Wilde
The guarded infirmary cell was silent in the first hours of the morning and the man lying on the cot finally slept, sedated by the strong potion he had been fed.
The window was merely two hands-breadth in height and width but that was sufficient for the man crawling inside. It looked grotesque as he contorted his figure to fit around the center bar more liquid than solid, more bestial than human.
Raising himself up from the floor little crackles could be heard as his bones shifted back into position and even the face regained its fullness. There stood a black-clothed man with only a small patch of skin visible around the eyes. Everything else was covered in black leather and fabric. Unhurried he drew a small slender vial then stepped closer to the bed, the mask on his face crinkling where his mouth should be, hinting at a smile.
Vanessa forced her tired body to dissolve and resolve again behind the man. A precise strike caught him on the back of his head and the assassin stumbled before forcing himself to turn only to be hit again causing him to fall unconscious. She drew strength from the demon in her shadow and felt the rising resentment of the creature.
Feeling for any hidden means of ending his life she removed a false tooth with a painful sounding crack. The man gave an involuntary groan at that. Finally, she bound him with some flexible rope she had on her person. Stumbling with the weight of the distant sun on her shoulder she staggered for the door and knocked from the inside before once more forcing herself to dissolve into mist.
The guards outside looked at each other uncomprehendingly and then one of them opened the door before looking inside.
“Alarm!”
Inside a storeroom in the basement, long fallen into disuse Vanessa scrawled some runes containing a warding spell on the door and then fell to the ground completely exhausted before drifting off into a deathlike sleep.
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Study of the King inside the Palace
King Vilander von Margrinar looked up from the documents arrayed before him. “Lieseleta, my dear, what brings you to me this fine day.”
“Father, forgive the interruption but I come to request justice for me and my friends.”
The large room was dominated by a heavy desk. Beside it stood a few shelves holding books and scrolls, the windows were shrouded with curtains and most of the light came from glow globes. Offset columns set into the walls at regular intervals framed pictures showing ancient kings and queens.
“I have heard there was a problem at the Norngrad Fortress. I have dispatched a knight inquisitor to look into it. Do you require more?”
“It was clearly an attack aimed at my supporters. The whole situation was a setup and they even tried to drug my friend, Alyssa- with Blood-Crystal nonetheless. It could have killed her and implicated the school, me.”
“Do you have any evidence?”
“That is the reason I am here. If I had that why would I need to ask.” She looked fierce for a moment and her father raised an eyebrow then laughed.
“Good. That is what is needed. Don’t beg. Demand. You are a princess and my daughter. If you were still meekly clinging to my trousers I could not well accept your candidacy for the throne.”
He stood up and brushed a hand over his beard. “I am willing to entertain your wishes but I would need to have something, somewhere to begin the investigation. Yes the guard, but that is too wide a field for quick results.”
A knock sounded on the door.
“Yes? I asked not to be disturbed, what is it?” Irritation colored his voice.
The door opened and an older servant bowed deeply. “My deepest apologies but you wished to be notified if something new came to light regarding the guard. There was an attempt on the unconscious guardsman. The Assassin was caught.”
The sunlight threw a line of brightness across the king's lower face and as his mouth widened in a cruel smile, sharp white teeth gleamed.
“Finally.”
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Somewhere in the Crooks
The bald man in the white golden robes stood before the hovel in the Crooks. Behind him stood a squad of royal knights. On the ground lay some thugs bleeding but still alive. Well- Most of them.
He spread his arms and spoke words precise and cold. Pale light gathered between his hands and flowed over the ground adhering to the dirty hut. He clenched his hand and a scream sounded unearthly and distinctly non-human. Another gesture and the wood and mud broke and ran like molten tallow. Inside the building was a complicated circle wrought on a metal plate and inside that circle stood a being made of sinewy tentacles, lithe and androgynous bound by pale light, like a fly caught in amber.
“Towermaster, what do you wish of us.” One of the knights tacitly asked.
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Nordmark Keep in the Northeast of Margrinar
Zygmund von Nordmark stood straight and felt the power coursing through his veins. He had never felt better. So what if he could no longer tolerate the sun. And what of the blood he now needed. That was nothing against the cost of the medicine in the past that had not helped a fraction of what this did now. Peasants were only useful when they served him. And if that was as a vessel for the blood he craved? Perfectly acceptable.
Lately, he had begun to feel a great presence to the northwest. When he slept he saw her beautiful face. She was radiance personified, a deity fallen to earth. And he heard her Whispers promising regency when Margrinar accepted her rule.
He could hardly wait.
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A Townhouse in Kronenburg
Tharus Iram von den Zwei Brücken elder vampire in the service of the Heartstealer grinned and then laughed. Helping someone take power was only reasonable when the power that was granted could also be taken away. He had no illusions as to the trustworthiness of his highness Carl Askander von Margrinar. He killed his elder brother and tried to frame and kill his younger sister. Trust? He would have lived his long life in vain.
He held the note gotten from the dead-drop before he crumbled the piece of paper and let it be devoured by a pinprick of void. Slowly the scrap turned in on itself and dwindled before finally becoming dust.
So the princeling needed his help. What subterfuge and guile did not yield force should supply.
For a moment his features grew pensive. A lot of relatively sure ways to gain an advantage had turned out disastrously. Harming instead of helping their cause. There were several highly competent antagonists working against the prince. He did only know of some. Perhaps it would be time to withdraw. He pondered- Fold or raise, the ages-old question.
He had the Nordmarks firmly in his control due to turning their patriarch. Men were always greedy and life itself was the grandest prize. But if he withdrew there would be no good opportunity for another decapitating blow. It would probably be a protracted affair and with the elder races looking on they could never be sure if not one or more of them would find offense with the undead empire they were building.
And so he came to a decision.
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The arcane exhibition drew near and the preparations that were suspended due to the death of the prince resumed.
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Sideroom near the King's study, the Palace
“Towermaster.” King Vilander nodded cordially. “Kestrel.” He gave a half-smile at the woman sitting on the other side of the long table opposite the magician with him sitting at the head. “Please report your findings.”
“If there is no complaint I will go first, I have much to do and less time,” The youthful-looking mage appeared to smile, “than I would wish. The Lyru Demon was summoned by a vampire. The one in question had the reek of the Heartstealer, at least according to the demonic creature so take that with a grain of salt. The name of the vampire is Tharus further monikers unknown. The demon had the express permission to kill the princess too if it were possible. The subject is sadly no longer available for questioning. The ritual circle and general circumstances of the summoning will be studied further. There will be another report. I will be going, have a good night your highness.”
“Thank you. I wish you fruitful endeavors.” Vilander’s face was dark and pensive as he gestured for him to leave and turned towards the woman. “Speak.”
“The assassin is a member of the Dragons Teeth. They really like the old myths and are an old-fashioned and even older organization. They don’t work for money mostly its favors and big ones at that. The contact that relayed the order mentioned a highly placed sponsor in the palace. But that is all. He was required to kill the guard. What follows is supposition. That they used such an expensive means is most likely because they have an arrangement that lets them use ‘assets’ as needed for a certain goal. Otherwise, it would be inconceivable for such a lowly pawn to be graced by their attentions.”
“Concise, vague in the details but not unexpectedly so. We have to be ready.”
“I think they will make their move during the Arcane Exhibition.”
“I think so too.”
“Should I…”
“No. I want to see who else is disloyal enough. I will take precautions.” The smile was devoid of warmth. “And then we will prune the great tree of our nation and cut away some deadwood.”
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Wisteria Dorm
Alyssa woke with a scream, panting heavily. She sighed in relief as she saw the reassuring bottom of the bunk overhead. A warm arm snaked around her and pulled her towards Mireille who had insisted despite her protests- What would happen if her left arm touched her unprotected flesh- to join her. Secretly she was very glad that her friend was close.
She pulled the glove off with her teeth and looked at her left hand, then closed her right eye. Dark shadows swam beneath the surface of her flesh, black flames danced on her fingertips. She remembered the moment when she had simply let the void flow through her. She had been one with the cold, one with the darkness, she had felt complete.
She looked on as the void ate into the fabric of the quilt and a thread slowly rotted through. She did no longer feel the smaller streams of void energy it was the same as her blood pumping restlessly, you did not feel its flow- did you?
She felt light and somehow detached, the mere cold of weather and wind, even the warmth just now everything was distant. What did she want with all that? She drew an oval of darkly flickering flame only she could clearly see into the air. She listened to the girl breathing behind her and saw the light shining through the window slowly brightening.
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Alea woke sometime before noon. Getting up and getting ready she looked at Mireille and Alyssa, the latter seemed to be awake and lazily played with her grey-white hand. Darkness flickered above her fingers. “I will go get some breakfast. Should I bring you some too?” She planned to enlist Lorelle if it came to that.
“I’m not hungry. But bring some for Mireille, please.” Alyssa answered.
“I will get enough for you both. You have to eat.”
“Mh.”
Outside she wandered down the corridor and greeted some of the other girls. Inside the dining room sat Prior Bertram and looked up from the tea he was sharing with Madam Gosling, the dorm mother. “Ah, Alea. Just the person I wanted to see.”
“Good morning.” Alea nodded a greeting toward both.
“Alea, dear. Did you come for breakfast? I could warm up some soup.”
“I would be grateful. And could you please add some for my friends?”
“But of course.” The matron stood up and walked towards the kitchen. The room became still but for the noises from outside a slight crackling from the fireplace as a coal burst.
“I would like to extend an offer. You can think about it when you are able. Times being what they are we might not get the chance for a formal audience so here it is- Alea von Graufurt I would like to anoint you as the saint of Jaros, god of mysteries and the watcher on the threshold to the distant dark. You are uniquely suited and there is no one else. The darkness gains in power. Windkeep is sorely besieged. Undead troops are roaming the northern reaches of Rivenlorn and even here the hand of the Heartstealer is felt. Think about it, but don’t take too much time.” The older man stood up nodded toward Alea and knocked on the doorframe leading to the kitchen, “Thank you for the tea. It was delicious! May Jaros be with you.” And following an indistinct reply from Madam Gosling he left.
Alea looked after him and was too stunned to answer. She had heard a similar offer long ago. Then it had only been a possibility and now? She looked back toward the room and thought of the look in Alyssa's eyes. Not everything could be solved by strength but many things were eased by it.
"Your breakfast, young lady." And with a smile, the older woman came back with a serving tray full of food.