Onyx walked the halls without any sense of urgency. Sable was young and full of hot air, but she took the safety classes to heart and wasn’t likely to hurt herself with a poorly done spell.
He reached the room which held the soulsmithed but still empty items and tried to open the door, but the handle wouldn’t turn.
He let out a sigh and gave the door a hard kick.
When it didn’t budge this time he started to worry. He drew his sword and cut all around the door, through the wards and the hinges and whatever was actually blocking him, at this point more guards were arriving to see who was causing such damage to the wards.
With the door free he gave it another kick, this time knocking it into the room.
He saw Sable in the corner, tears in her eyes as the crystals were growing closer by the second. Feebly trying to take control of them but failing to get a grasp of the magic.
Not caring about the cost of what he was doing, Onyx flooded every bit of crystal he saw with dark magic, corrupting the structure and then breaking down the crystals until inert dust was all that remained.
The room would need to be completely redone, much of it was now decayed by the dark magic as well as the acidic crystal which covered much of it, the carpet was gone and the boards underneath were starting to flex under his weight, the paint was flaking and then turning to dust in the air, where once there was a luxurious couch was now scraps of fabric and wood so rotten that it was no longer able to support its own weight.
But he didn’t care. He simply picked up Sable and carried her to her room.
She cried the whole way but Onyx was dampening the sounds, lest they carry to the rest of the house.
Once in her room Onyx stopped containing the sounds, letting the wards in the room handle it.
After a time she calmed enough and was only sniffling, but didn’t speak due to her embarrassment.
She knew it was a mistake to try and experiment with getting her favorite spell into a sword, but she felt that she just needed a little more time, that she could handle any issues, that she didn’t need anyone else to watch her.
Onyx knew this as well, he did not chide her for her recklessness, she would surely get that from their mother. For now he simply sat and held her.
He was simply glad that she hadn’t hurt herself beyond what looked like a cut where she lost her grip on a blade.
Finally someone came to get them, the guests were arriving.
“Master Onyx, Mistress Sable. The party will start in earnest soon, your mother asks for your presence.”
“We shall be out soon. Help Sable to change her dress.”
Sable hadn’t noticed, but the crystals had reached her, luckily her dress was too poor a host for crystal growth and it was dissolved by the acid, harmlessly falling away instead of crawling up onto her person.
“Are you going to be alright? Should I wait here for you?”
She wiped her eyes and sniffled a final time.
“I will be fine. I just need to freshen up, that’s all.”
He stepped out so the maid could get her dressed but stood outside the door to wait for her anyway.
Meanwhile in the ballroom other nobles were starting to arrive from all over the county and Redmond decided to force Harlan to try and find others to make connections with, much to Harlan’s chagrin.
He was starting to realize how much he just expected Balor to tell him all of his knowledge about the political landscape of the county and beyond, yet he said he wanted to sleep and Harlan would be fine on his own.
He saw that the noble house of Verdigris had arrived, then he tried to check his mental list of who was likely to be worth talking to. He knew that the house head had done something fairly minor against him, so that put him down the list of people he wanted to speak with, finally he completely checked them off the list when he saw that all of the baron’s children were much older than himself.
Harlan meandered around for 10 minutes before Ebon approached him.
“You could speak with those two over there.” She pointed to boys who looked to be around his age, though at least a year or two younger. Each of them wore coats closer in design to Harlan’s, lacking the gemstones and or lace which some nobles had.
When Harlan turned to thank Ebon she was already across the room speaking with someone else.
He figured he would thank her later if he got the chance, then he walked to the group.
As he got closer he tried to pick up on what they were talking about, he didn’t want to end up standing silently as they talked about something he had no idea about.
Luckily the topic was fighting.
“I think I could handle 5 wargs, as long as I had a light spell at least.” A boy with a red coat and blonde hair spoke.
“I don’t think so. Didn’t you get beaten by that girl? The one the Redwall trainer took in as a student?” The other was in a slightly darker red coat with brown hair.
“Well did you beat her?”
“I was close. I just didn’t sleep well the night before.”
Harlan decided to step into the conversation at this point.
“She is older than both of you, I think. And she has been working very hard at learning to fight for years.”
The boys looked at him, no recognition in their eyes.
“And you are?” the boy in the darker red coat asked.
“Harlan Fomoria. Ava is my sister.”
The one in the brighter coat flinched at the name, while the other had a gleam in his eyes.
“I’ve heard you made those new weapons, the ones that can use magic.”
“Yes, that is me. But I only do a few items personally for a local blacksmith, I spend most of my time working on my own things.”
“Do you have any of them on you? Wait, before that. I am Dran Folin, no real meaning behind the name.” He started to reach his hand out for a shake before he realized it wasn’t a proper greeting and instead slightly bowed, which Harlan returned.
“I forgot about it, but I can show you something.” Harlan didn’t forget, instead he was waiting for a time where it would leave an impression. With a simple push of mana a harmless black fog fell from the shoulders, dispersing just before it hit the floor.
Dran loved it, the other boy took a half step back.
“And your name is?” Harlan wasn’t offended, instead he tried to disarm the boy’s paranoia,
The boy cleared his throat.
“My name is Emet Teller. No real meaning to the name.”
“Why not?” Harlan was kicking himself for asking the first question that came to mind.
“I don’t know, ask Dran.”
“Not every house is named directly by the king, and when that happens they might get their name from any number of things, or even just because it sounds like a fine name without any meaning. Though sometimes house names change after a member does something worth notice and the king gives a greater name to them. My grandfather was picked because of his good business sense, reputation, and the last baron was deposed.”
“Huh. I guess that makes sense.”
“Where does your name come from then?” Emet asked.
Harlan thought for a moment, he was sure he could explain it, but he was also pretty sure they should already know, if the king made an announcement about him then people should know about the Fomorians, at least that is what he heard before.
“Do you know about the Fomorians?”
“I heard they are wild people living out in the frontier who hate the kingdom and have evil magics.”
Now Harlan did feel a little offended.
“Well, that is partly right. I am one of them. It is what let me make those new weapons.” He didn’t think it necessary to explain much, since he didn’t actually know much, and saying that he is the result of generations of… Evil. He also didn’t know if they hated the kingdom, or if they really just hated everyone.
“Whoa! You have a bloodline?”
“I guess you could say that.”
Harlan found it easy to talk with them, they seemed closer to just someone from town rather than sons of barons. After 20 minutes of them trading stories back and forth he bid them farewell to find more people to talk to, he wasn’t hating this. He even had the thought that he had been too judgmental towards nobility. Which led to the foolish idea of trying to seek out those of higher standing and move past his bias.
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He found Piceous talking with 2 other boys.
They clearly knew who Harlan was from the moment they saw him, he didn’t like the look in their eyes. Like a wolf eyeing a lamb.
“Greetings, you must be Sir Fomoria.”
“Yes, that is me. And you are?”
“Grandry Ironhand.” He reached out for a shake, Harlan not immediately seeing the oddity grabbed the boy’s hand who quickly cried out in pain, much to Harlan’s confusion.
“I can’t believe you would harm me. And I even extended my hand as a lower man would.” Things started clicking in his mind. It was one of their tests, and he could feel the eyes on him, but instead of getting riled up Harlan tried to be peaceable.
“I must’ve put too much strength in my grasp. I heard your name and thought you would be stronger. Can I help to heal the pain?”
As much as he tried he couldn’t seem to stop himself from saying a jab at the boy, but he thought it was still peaceful at least.
“No, I have my own healer, I have no need for your help.” He thought he handled it well, the boy walked off after seeing that he wouldn’t get a rise out of Harlan so easily. Which wasn’t entirely true, Harlan wanted to hurt him, but he kept it bottled up, trying his best to avoid showing it outwardly.
“I’m sorry about that. Grandry is usually nice…” Piceous said.
“Oh I am sure he is. Must be a bad moon or something like that.”
“Anyway. Here is my other friend. Harlan, meet Got, his father is Count Sterling. His lands are north of here, they run many silvermines and manufacture works of art.”
“It is nice to meet you. Are you returning from the academy or will you be a first year?”
“I am returning, I just finished my first year. With a focus mainly on alchemy.”
“I am ignorant on the subject unfortunately.”
“Far too many are. But so much would be lost if we didn’t have it. I heard you grew up on a farm, Is this right?”
“Yes.”
Harlan was waiting for the other shoe to drop, for the insult, subtle or obvious, to be said, for eyes to be on him again, if they weren’t already.
“Then have you ever seen anyone taking soil samples?”
“Not that I remember.”
“Well. The crown will check the soil of farms which report a decrease in productivity beyond normal, and then they send the soil to alchemists to look over and see what should be added to bring life back to the land. While the Greenfield family makes new plants, they rely on the work of alchemists to grow infertile lands into a place which these might take root. They are also the leading force behind trying to turn the great desert in the south into a proper green land again.”
“Oh? That is really interesting, do they know why it is a desert in the first place?” Harlan thought it was neat, but it also sounded like a rehearsed speech to him.
“Well… No one can know for sure. But the lands seem to refuse to let anything grow, and yet it isn’t like it is spreading or destroying the lands close to it. All records say that its border is exactly the same as ever. Yet it refuses all life.”
“All life? Isn’t there people there?”
“Right. Yes there is. But we don’t know how or where they live. I believe the theory that they actually come from beyond the desert. But no one has been able to find the end of it, or maybe they find it is paradise and they stay?”
Harlan was interrupted by a familiar sound. The muffled yelp of someone who had been suddenly frightened, and didn’t want to make a loud noise. But this one was far too familiar.
He excused himself and then walked towards the source, grabbing and downing a drink before placing the empty glass on another server's platter.
He wanted something too cool himself with, he was starting to feel a heat bursting deep from his chest, yet he wasn’t worried about it for some reason. It was somewhat fizzy which he hadn’t encountered before, but he liked it.
The waiters tried to stop Harlan from grabbing more of them but a single look scared them away from the idea.
The distance was short but having to dodge people delayed him, when he arrived at the source of the sound he found Jet. His first thought was to kill him, but he stopped that. Jet had his arm around Ava’s waist, she wasn’t trying to force him off of her but she was clearly uncomfortable with him, which he either ignored or didn’t notice.
Harlan downed two more glasses of whatever they were serving. The heat just wouldn’t subside.
He went to look for Blackstone. The fire in his eyes elicited momentary looks of shock from others around him, unbeknownst to Harlan there was a literal spark of fire which others could see.
He found her finally and then tried to put on as calm of a face as he could.
“Countess Blackstone, would you mind a short chat?” Harlan’s idea of a calm face at the moment was not actively frowning, he failed even that.
She was not impressed, but she followed him away from her group and placed a veil to quiet them down, fully silencing oneself was seen as very rude most of the time, much more so at a party.
“What has you so upset?”
“Jet, he is being too handsy with Ava, and I can tell she does not like this but isn’t fighting back for any number of reasons I am too upset to think about.” He slightly slurred his words.
“How many glasses of sparkling wine have you had?”
“That is what wine tastes like? No, doesn’t matter. Three?”
“You should find a server with water. Drink that. I will deal with Jet.”
She walked exactly where Jet was located, as if she had a motherly sense for the man.
Harlan meanwhile decided to trust her, he found a server and took 2 glasses of water. Then he headed outside to cool off.
He found Sable and Onyx outside as well, staring at a grave. He felt he was in no state to interrupt them so he went around the other side of the garden.
Harlan wasn’t sure how long he walked around. But he was asked to come in by a servant at some point.
The first thing he noticed was the stage which once held the band now stood his family, Autumn and his parents had arrived at some point. At the front of them stood Blackstone, who signaled Harlan to come over.
He nearly jumped right on stage, but his sense kicked in and he went to the stairs nearest him.
Blackstone then guided him to her right side.
“Kneel.”
Harlan did as asked.
“It is by the powers vested in me that I grant the privileges of nobility onto the remainder of the Fomoria house. It is not lightly that I grant such powers. But as a result of an ongoing deal between the head, Harlan Fomoria, and the Royal family. It has been decided that his achievements have gone beyond an individual, and extend to those who have raised him. Now rise. Place these rings on the hand of each member of your family.” Harlan didn’t let it show, but he was completely baffled, he hadn’t given the royals anything in months. Not unless Dahlia was taking things from him without asking. Which he didn’t write off as a possibility.
Blackstone used a small sound spell to whisper in his ear as he approached his family, rings in hand.
“Not Autumn, she is a Redwall. The royals don’t like mixing houses without their approval. Place the ring on the right hand, left from your perspective, on the ring finger.”
So Harlan did as asked, glad for the advice. Harlow had a look like a chicken hung by its feet, confusion on how he ended up here at all and acceptance. Aida simply smiled, wishing it wasn’t a breach of etiquette to hug him. Amber and Ava both had a smug look on their face, like they were expecting this, which worried Harlan to an extent. Finally it was Redmond’s turn, he had equal parts reluctant and happy written on his face.
Then he stepped back towards Blackstone and looked at the rest of the room, they clapped as much as was polite and not second longer.
He tried to track who had a look of anger and who had one of respect, but he couldn’t tie names to any of them.
Blackstone led him to a small side room then she handed him a metal cup of water.
“Congratulations.”
“I guess? I don’t understand why they are doing this though. Is it one of those tests?”
“You and your family are bait for assassins. They don’t want the theocracy to start looking too closely at who is behind the actual advancement of those soulsmithed items.”
Harlan instantly crushed the metal cup and slammed the table. Sending a slight shimmer over its surface but not causing any real damage. The candles on the walls of the room flared and the shadows darkened; they seemed to reach for whatever they could get hold of. But there was no damage to the room.
“I am aware that this is very troubling information. But the royals are sending only the best to watch your family, they are in no real danger.”
Harlan tried as hard as he could to avoid lashing out more than he already had.
“It is alright. You can be angry.”
Harlan tossed the table at the wall, flipped his chair, swore as loud as he could, screamed nothing at all. But Blackstone was unphased.
“You have my word that nothing will happen to them. Warders are being sent to your family farm to make sure that they will be completely safe.”
Harlan was finally coming down, the voice in his head telling him to kill her was being overshadowed by his rational mind telling him that he shouldn’t, that he could actually trust her even if he wanted to run the king through with a spike and let them suffer as a decoration.
“I- AHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHHH.” He decided that he wasn’t ready to talk like a person just yet.
“I understand.”
He sat for another minute.
“Why? Really WHY?”
“It is much easier to split their forces into larger teams and cover only a few targets, rather than send one or two good soldiers to watch over the dozens of mages that are behind the actual work. I knew you would react this way, hence the room. Have you felt like you were in danger since you left the facility?”
“Every waking second of every day I think someone is going to break into my home and kill everyone I know.”
He saw she was genuinely shocked and saddened to hear such a thing.
“I am sorry you feel that way, I can offer no advice for such paranoia.”
“Well CLEARLY it isn’t paranoia. They ARE out to get me.”
“The entire time you have been out people have been watching you and your family, only stepping in when there is no other option, that woman who stayed with you is only the face of your team.”
Harlan picked up the chair he first sat in and placed it upright, leaning on it. He took a deep breath and tried to calm himself.
Instead he flung the chair as hard as he could at the wall, actually scratching the wallpaper this time.
Blackstone was unhappy with this.
“Are you satisfied now?”
“Yes. I think I am.”
“Good, this took much longer than I was expecting, you have too much rage, not even Onyx was this bad. And remember, do not tell your family. This is a threat from the crown, they are not to know.”
Harlan wanted to just walk out of the room and leave the party early but Blackstone grabbed his hand.
“Harlan, I know I have no right, but may I ask a request of you?”
The look in Cimmeria’s eyes forced Harlan to sit down.
“Countess, you have a right to ask and I have the right to refuse, don’t I?”
“I am not going to ask as a countess, I am going to ask you as a mother. Were you a troubled child? Did you ever need to be set right?”
“I was pretty calm and avoided trouble, it just seemed to find me rarely however.”
“Then you know that sometimes putting someone on that better path can be hard on both parties.”
“Did you bring me here to settle all of your family issues? First your daughter and now another one?”
“I’ve lost the will to do what needs to be done to help Jet, I think even Onyx is wearing woolen gloves with him even if he doesn’t know it. Are you willing to help me?”
She held her palms to his like his own mother had done to him, his instinct first wanted to tear her in half, now it was crying out to help her.
“What do you need me to do, countess.”
“Please, call me Cimmeria, and, do you have any scars?”
It took only a few minutes for her to explain her plan and Harlan liked it as much as he hated the target for the plan.