A bright alabaster cloud hovered above the whole garden district of the Radiant Keep. Pure snowflakes fell from it while the youngest of the Emperor’s children watched with gleaming eyes, smiled when the snowflakes touched their soft faces adorned with various hues of draconic scales that matched their slit pupils. At every entrance pairs of Impirith Praetoriar stood in silence with their eyes behind the masks focused on the children and their caretakers.
“Do you remember the first time His Majesty conjured that for us?” Anguraa asked his Albron as the two passed by in the pathway acting as a boundary between the two sides of the enormous garden.
“I remember mother animating a golem from the snow. But I must say it is a surprise hearing you reminiscing of those days.” Albron said as he slightly diverted his gaze onto Anguraa.
Anguraa held out his clawed right hand smiled softly like a serpent when a snowflake fell onto the tip of his index finger. “Do you think of me as such a cold person. I miss those days when all we had to focus on were our studies and practices.”
“But this isn’t why you came to me isn’t it?” He swiftly pulled his arm back to his side and continued on his way with Albron following on the left.
“True it is not. I wish to enlist the help of your inquisitoriar as I am afraid to admit – but my men reached their limits.” Albron stopped for a moment as he took one last look at their siblings raising the snow and forming it into sphere before bombarding each other.
“Didn’t most of the captives died already?” Angura’s eyes focused on his brother searching, inspecting every little contortion that may occur on his striking aevhen visage.
“Most certainly did. But there are still a few in a mindless state with their memories intact just shielded with spells beyond what my subordinates are used to.” Albron said with honeyed words as they reached the end where the statue of their grandfather stood in a proud stance, his gleaming figure frozen in time exuding power.
“What makes you think that my inquisitoriar have the capacity to solve this little problem of yours?” Anguraa asked while his attention remained on the mesmerizing sculpture’s head with a stern visage.
Albron pondered on his next few words for a moment. “I’m well aware of your little Talos endeavor. Who do you think father ordered to get your material for?”
Anguraa’s eyes lit up in surprise as he turned to his brother. “Quite a surprise brother. I always thought you have the same idealistic thinking as our late-sister and uncle has.” He spoke those next words in a cold tone with half a smile.
“I once had them.” Albron said while containing the scorching desire within his fists.
“And not anymore?” Anguraa interjected before Albron could have continued.
Albron inhaled deeply before he voiced his answer. “After Sister’s death born from following her ideals? No, I am not that foolish brother.”
“I can spare a few of my hypnomancers.” Without hesitation – and to the surprise of Albron – Anguraa spoke those words as he turned around and left not waiting for his gratitude laced words. Albron watched with a cold-eyed stare as his back became distant before his body evaporated in deep, indigo arkhaine particles.
**
After Aurelithae brought the merchant family to the hideout on the lower district, she returned to the Indomitrion Bridge at the center of the valley. Her attention focused on the sculptures each hewn to show off the perfected and exposed form of each kin.
Each of these sculptures, beyond being carved from the purest marble unearthed in the heart of the continent, also harbored arkhanite stones. Stones that were inscribed with mind altering enchantments that called out to the viewer and increased their desires towards their loved ones. Which in a few cases led to the separation of mates.
“Good Day Miss Luelia!” Her body squirmed a little as the all too deep, and once again familiar voice of Isocrates reached her ears and brought her attention away from certain parts of the statues depicting humans and half-aevhens.
“Day to you too Iso. And still no need for honorifics. We’re all equal in the New Dawn.” She forced her attention onto Isocrates and forced a faint smile onto her face while speaking.
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“I’m afraid that will stick with me for a while. So what brings you to here?” Isocrates asked as he juggled the baskets between his arms when one got tired by their weight.
“Just like the view from here. Need help with those?” Aurelithae asked as she noticed his head and arms gradually matching in the same reddish hue while sweat poured down his round head.
“Oh these. These are not that heavy.” He said as his arms trembled while lifting the heavy baskets filled with chopped wood embedded with fire crystals that at a simple insertion of fothiila matter release flames that focus on the wood only, while also emanating heat that fills the homesteads of the capital.
Against his humble wishes – and with a click of her tongue paired with her slightly angered expression – she grabbed one of the baskets while pouring her mana into her right arm’s arkhaine points. “Thanks!” With a slight pout the two went their way towards the streets of the western side where Isocrates and his family lived. Halfway off the bridge, bright alabaster clouds appeared above the city and soft snow started pouring. Children looked up to the sky with bright eyes as they flooded the streets with laughter.
“Was there snow where you lived before?” Isocrates broke the silence as they reached the boundary of the wide street decorated with trees on each side blooming with golden and red leaves. Each tree was carefully planted into a perfectly measured square plot barricaded with marble that contrasted the dark hues of the earth.
“No, it was actually not far from the western shores. Only heard about it from mother and how it tenderly blankets the north all year.” Aurelithae answered with half-truths as she stopped for a moment recalling the gentle stroke of her mother’s hands while her soft, velvety voice tickled her ears.
“Always wanted to see what the basin looks within those gloomy peaks.” Isocrates said as he tilted his head up and let the snow grace his handsome face with sharp, manly features that included his prominent jaw, straight nose with a well-defined bridge and wide, dry lips surrounded by a dark bush.
“You know the Host would kill you and raise you into undeath as soon as you step one foot inside.” Aurelithae said with a serious tone, her eyes pierced through him.
“Do they? Or is that what the Temple wants’ us to believe?” Isocrates said as he met her gaze.
“Regardless of what they say, they are definitely not too keen on letting anyone see what lies in their lands.” She spoke while walking up to him and the two continued onwards in awkward silence.
As they headed in the direction of his home the two spotted Naghig at the corner of the Somber Horn tavern. A slightly smaller establishment compared to the Sleeping Dragon tavern that took up the space of at least three homes.
“Good, both of you are here. That saves me some time.” He said with a grumpy expression on his grim visage veiled under his gray hood.
He led the two inside, with Aurelithae being the only one mildly surprised when she heard those words. “Come they will need these.” Isocrates said pointing his eyes at the basket in his hand. Without saying a word, she entered the tavern after staring at the Radiant Keep hovering high in the paled sky.
**
The Domua Somna – commonly known as the House of Rest – was the final resting place of all the members of the Imperial Family built into the bottom layers of the Radiant Keep. It was a vast system of a necropolis where their pale, cadavers rested frozen in time.
Metallic steps echoed through the north-eastern section’s corridor as Albron walked through the alabaster lit corridor. A hundred and more plaques decorated the walls, each with familiar names he heard through his life carved into them, under numbers from which some even appeared distant for him. He looked at each with indifferent expression while his eyes darted constantly as he searched for the one.
“Finally.” He muttered in a tired tone as he placed his palm onto the marble plaque with a name all too familiar and painful to remember of. The scale patterned metal retreated like a scared horde of ants into his vambrace, exposing his onyx claws first, then his hand – a fair hue with a slight tingent of the lunar phase of the sun. He inhaled deeply as he placed his perfectly smooth palm onto the cold surface of the plaque and felt the chilling sensation of his mana coursing through his anima veins and out into the plaque itself.
He took a step back as he watched the name and the numbers disappear as if the marble regenerated itself like damaged skin and flesh. Then the whole corridor started rearranging itself as the ceiling grew in width and became even more distant. The wall grew in height and width as the plaques except the one in front of his handsome visage – covered in intricate patterns of onyx scales – remained in place while the rest retreated akin to a frightened herd.
The marble of the plaque itself converged to the edges forming detailed frames with spatial runes carved into them slowly by disembodied hands that lit up with a deep bluish arkhaine hue. It also expanded in shape and size as it took the form of a door. Where once the marble laid, now a pristine mirror surface stared back at Albron without his reflection staring back at him with the same taciturn gaze.
The air he inhaled moments ago left him in a slow and measured manner as he stepped through the mirror surface without disturbing its peace. On the other side he was greeted with the all too familiar sight of three silent figures resting atop their unspoiled marble beds facing the ceiling with a fresco of the Silent Shepherd guiding their tender, childish figures towards the Gray Gates of Asphodel.
The room itself had no torches or even Lumides – arkhaine stones imbued with the light similar of the suns – yet there was light coming from an unseen source that parted the wicked shadows that would claim those three. Albron took small steps towards the center of the oval-shaped half room and got down onto his knees as he muttered a silent prayer.
He raised back up with his torso strung, his elbow on his armor clad knee. Hot air breezed his upper lip as he mustered his voice. “We have to talk.”