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Chapter 52

When Syra returned home, it was well past midnight, and the Convocation meeting was over.

She was irked that she couldn't return in time to await Varrus in the kitchen, and decided to be extra tough the next time she saw the Undead Crown Prince.

Tenris would discover someday soon that nobody crosses a Vandercross!

Whilst Syra had begun plotting against Tenris, and her heart filled with rage, that didn't mean she couldn't multitask.

Now that she was a stone's throw away from home, she came to the conclusion that the House Guard could do with a little test.

The recent infiltration by the Undead Prince had raised some concerns, and she wanted to see what preparations Rho'dan had set up in the event of another assassination attempt.

It was with this in mind that Syra found herself clinging to the shadows of a building across the street from the Vandercross Estate.

Whilst she maintained this position, dark clouds hovered over the sky, blocking the starlight. The moon was a crescent, barely providing any light. It was so dark, in fact, that even an Elves' ability to see in the night was not very effective beyond 10ft.

Crouched at the perfect vantage point to assess the mansion's defense, Syra began to analyze points of entry, as well as guard rotations.

To begin with, the only approach to the estate was via a wide street. It had been flattened during the war with the Scourge, and damaged buildings dotted the surroundings. There was a clear line of sight of about 50ft from the 2nd story of the estate to the other side of the street where Syra currently hid herself.

The estate itself was along a long road on the furthest south western part of Silvermoon. Sequestered against the city wall, it completely walled off the garden in the back, and presented a U shape between the main building at the back, and two ancillary buildings on the left and right. A 2nd story balcony leading to their room rested above a grand door at the entrance of the main building. Each ancillary building possessed a singular-yet less grand-door as well.

Besides scaling the walls to gain access to the 2nd floor, these 3 doors served as the only entrances.

A translucent-blue bubble ward covered each door, and in fact, a similar film could be seen coating the windows.

During the night, the estate had wards active at all times, blocking every entrance. Only those who spoke the password could lower them.

In the case of the Vandercross Estate, it was an old child’s rhyme from before the Sundering.

‘Sun Sun

Shine Shine

One Son

Nine Divine’

Syra didn't know why Varrus’ father had set up such an ancient rhyme to act as the code, but as of yet, only the most loyal had been taught this password.

The mana shield wasn't particularly powerful, and could be broken by any Hero or mass attack. However it served as a deterrent to lesser threats, and acted as an alarm. Any popping of the bubble would create a loud sound alerting the guards to the location of the disturbance.

It was tricky to bypass, but Syra had done so on multiple occasions whilst doing her mother’s dirty work.

Moving on from the basic mana shield defending the estate, Syra began to examine the House Guard stationed nearby.

She spotted two guards tiredly making idle chatter in front of the main entrance. Their heavy armor occasionally jingled as they shifted uncomfortably in place.

Syra mentally chided them for their inability to remain still, and their lack of Muffled equipment.

That was strike one against Rho'dan's training methods.

Above the central structure sat the Arcane Tower. It was lit up like a lighthouse, indicating a constant power source. A beam of light swept across the grounds in front of the estate in a 360 arc. Any stealthed being caught in its light would become instantly visible. Once that occurred, the Elf manning the tower could launch lethal, cannon sized, concussive magical projectiles. Or it could shoot a less lethal option that paralyzed the target's muscles.

Such buildings were costly to maintain without the power of a leyline or the Sunwell, and typically guarded important places.

Syra had been forced to blitz one before as training under her mother. Dodging the Arcane Bolts was difficult, but doable.

Sneaking past them, in her experience, was entirely dependent on the operator. With her mother behind the controls, none would pass.

As it stood, the current Arcane Tower operator seemed lazy, with wide sweeping arcs, hardly focusing or anticipating on locations where stealthed infiltrators may attack from.

Syra pressed her lips together in disappointment. That was another mark. She would have to find time to educate this lazy malcontent personally.

Moving on with her observation, Syra spotted four more guards patrolling the rooftops. A robed mage joined them on a figure eight rotation.

Syra noticed that all of them were Muffled, and comfortable in their armor. The mage was also refreshing a spell upon them periodically that enhanced sight.

A slow smile spread across her face as she realized that the two guardsman posted at the front door were obvious bait. However, their routes were too predictable, and could easily be bypassed.

Further analysis had her spot two, camouflaged, bow wielding rangers within the eaves of the adjacent buildings. In fact, there was even one resting above the ruined building that she was hiding under!

Perhaps Rho'dan wasn't entirely hopeless as a chief guard, but that didn't mean she was happy with the setup.

Whilst it was only due to her strict training, and enhanced Holy Void sight that she was able to just barely parse out the mana leaking from the ranger’s bodies, that didn't mean that others couldn't do the same.

Her continued practice of Void magic led her to a greater understanding of her own stealth capabilities, and as a result, she could spot others hiding in the shadows that much easier. She speculated if another Highborn, or creature specialized in the Void, that they could develop similar capabilities.

Based upon her analysis of the environment, copious experience, and what she could see, this was the entirety of the outdoor protection unit.

Frankly speaking, she was unimpressed.

Silvermoon's night scene once saw Elves exploring the city no matter the time of the day. However, with the loss of the Sunwell, the people lost the seemingly endless inner energy within them as well. Meaning that things like food and sleep that were once experienced out of desire, had now become a necessity.

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As a consequence, the number of Elves that could patrol at night had significantly reduced compared to the past.

Whilst Syra was disappointed at their fall from grace, she was secretly happy.

Having spent her entire childhood fighting for her life, it was comforting to know that these self-serving, two-faced Highborn could no longer play dress up, and had to act like the paladin/warrior/ranger that they pretended to be for so long.

At the same time, she knew that her husband had a plan to restore the Sunwell. Those same smug Elves who had looked down upon him for all these years were forced to scrape and bow before him now that he held the key to their renewal.

All was right in the world.

Syra’s grin widened as she took one last look at the estate’s defenses, and prepared herself for a breach.

Clad in the shadow of a rogue, the world around her seemed to blur as a shroud of Shadow magic coated her form, making her invisible to all but the most astute.

Flexing her arms, and performing a few warm up stretches, Syra pushed away any of the negative thoughts niggling at the back of her head due to the Void magic, and felt herself unburdened as she thought of her star.

Taking a deep breath, she Muffled her steps, and rolled forward just as the lighthouse-like beam of light swept across the path in front of her.

The watchman in the loft above her didn't notice a thing as Syra bypassed the entirety of the street.

Reaching the side of the wall, Syra noted that the surface had recently been smoothed over and recast in plaster, preventing any convenient handholds.

Syra mentally gave Rho'dan a plus 1 at this addition, yet she was still disappointed at the lazy Arcane Tower operator, canceling out this innovation.

Taking a step back, Syra found some nearby rubble, and took a minute to write an inscription upon it. She then tossed it across the street, creating a clattering noise.

The guards seemed alert, and ready for something, but a moment later, the stone Syra had tossed began to emit the soft mews of a kitten.

Syra overheard the House Guard chuckle to themselves in relief at a false alarm, but all Syra could do was shake her head in disappointment.

Whilst the watchmen were briefly distracted by the mewing, Syra channeled some of her Light energy into her legs, allowing her to easily jump up to the 2nd story.

Ordinarily, she would have to decloak to use a different school of magic, however, since she had learned to combine both powers, Syra no longer had to abide by the rules of common convention.

Now upon the 2nd story, Syra stalked forward like a cat searching for a rodent in the dark.

The guards had swept past her position several times, of which Syra had deliberately walked in a spot where they should have spotted her. That is, if the spell the mage had cast upon everyone was effective, that is.

Firming her lips, Syra wanted to knock this entire unit unconscious when she saw the mage consulting his scrying orb, and looking ‘right’ at her with a confused look on his face.

Syra rolled her eyes in exasperation, and made her way to the door on the balcony leading to her room.

She was going to perform a spell that allowed one to bypass flimsy barriers such as this one, however, as soon as she stood in front of the door, a pressure triggered plate underneath her feet was set off, and a cage of Arcane energy formed around her, revealing her form.

At that moment, pandemonium coursed through all of the guards as they sprang into action.

Arrows were notched on bow strings, the chant of a spell muttered, and swords drawn.

All this was done in a few seconds as the guards closed in on Syra's location.

Feeling slightly embarrassed, she decided not to reveal her identity. After all, the guards wouldn't try as hard next time if they knew it was her, right?

Having convinced herself that her reasoning was sound, Syra went about her escape.

Shattering the cage with an empowered attack, Syra backflipped to the square down below in the front of the estate.

As she ran away, the boom of the Arcane Tower firing shook the ground all around her, yet she was too fast.

Arrows whizzed by, and a homing magic missile chased her until she tossed some rubble in its path, creating a massive, white colored explosion.

Rapidly blinking her eyes at the bright light, Syra met with the rogue stationed in the building across the street, punching them in the sternum before they even had a chance to retaliate.

After running for another mile in a seemingly random pattern, Syra came to a stop within a derelict building.

Squatting down, she played with a broken stick, and poked some ashes as she reflected upon her failure.

Biting her lip, Syra couldn't believe she had fallen to such an amateurish mistake!

If she was caught by the guards, she would be too embarrassed to face Varrus! Her mother would never let her hear the end of it!

Whilst Syra was hyper focused on her fuming, a heavy hand silently placed itself on her shoulder, and clenched down, holding her in place.

She almost retaliated with an instinctual attack, only to stop herself at the last moment as she recognized the redheaded Elf standing beside her.

‘Where did he learn to be so quiet?’ Syra thought to herself as she silently appraised the chief of the guards with caution.

“You know, Lady Vandercross, you could take the stairs like everyone else.” Rho'dan intoned seriously.

“I was merely testing the defenses, Rho'dan.” Syra commented in an offhand, disinterested manner.

“Did you find them wanting?” Rho'dan replied with a savage grin.

Syra wanted to scowl at the guard for his confrontational tone of voice.

“I found them adequate, Rho'dan, but there were a few gaps that I discovered during my foray. Now if you would, release me now, I wish to return to my beloved.” Syra said as she made to stand.

However, Rho'dan’s hand remained firmly clasped to her shoulder, much to Syra’s growing displeasure. It was only due to his connection to Varrus that she did not act out on any of her impulses.

“Look, Lady Vandercross, I know you don’t trust me much, but Varrus is like my beloved nephew. I see the way he looks at you, and I see the way you treat him, and I don’t like it.” Rho'dan leaned forward, and increased the pressure on his grip, then let go.

“Come again?” Syra stood up, and let her hair cover the front of her face.

“His world was shattered 11 days ago. The happy go lucky kid I knew was replaced by a cynic. Your love is the only thing going, and for that, I cannot thank you enough. But don’t think I can’t see what is going on. I do not like the way you have been treating Varrus. I’ll be watching you.” Rho'dan said, taking a step backward without ever turning his back to her, before he disappeared into the early morning fog.

Syra felt the corner of her lips twitch as she watched him walk out of her line of sight.

Who was he to tell her how to treat her man!?

Hmph!

How did she treat Varrus any differently than how a wife should? She cooked his food, took care of his needs, and slew their enemies. There wasn't a more perfect woman out there! Varrus said so!

Syra hotly made her way home-and she most certainly did not stomp all the way-with a swirl of thoughts occupying her mind.

Once she came to the front entrance, she ignored the greetings of the guards, and made her way to her room.

Opening the door, Syra scanned everywhere in search of Varrus, so that she might satisfy their mutual desires, only to find him sound asleep in a chair by the door.

A platter of cold food rested by his side, clearly prepared for her, and a small bit of drool dripped down the corner of his mouth.

All the anger, rage, and pent up desire within her fled like winter giving way to spring.

Syra had a small smile whilst she watched Varrus cutely shiver from the cold coming from the hallway.

Gently closing the door behind her, she slowly picked him up, so as not to wake him, and tucked him in bed.

Disrobing, and lowering herself to rest by his side, Syra stared unblinkingly at his face to burn his image into her mind.

This was the man she had married.

Forget about Rho'dan or her mother.

She chose this. Her. Not her mother, not old man Vandercross. She did this!

Everything of hers was his, and everything of his was hers. They were two parts to one whole.

He was her Star, and she was his Sun.

Oh how she loved him.

Planting a shallow kiss on his cheek, Syra took one last loving gaze at her beloved, then closed her eyes, welcoming the sweet embrace of sleep.