On the early morning of the 28th of Obritnaum, 1259th of the First Age, Aurelithae’s smooth eyelids quivered as the light shone in from the window of her room. She slowly raised from the silken embrace of her sheets and stretched her limbs contentedly towards the frescoed ceiling while her bright, prismatic eyes with slit pupils opened. Her refreshing delight shattered the moment her sight sharpened and for a moment she noticed the haunting figure of Ivor standing in the soft shadows opposite of her bed.
Even with half his charred cranium exposed, she could make out the madness that still lingered over his tormented spirit. His eyes gleamed with malice and joy at the same time as his gaze pierced through the maturing Aurelithae who was frozen in place. His maw decorated by the blackened teeth slowly opened and a wail of the wind emitted from it, paralyzing her whole body.
At the sounds of footsteps the cramped muscles in her neck loosened and she turned her attention at the opening door, swiftly masking the dread that occupied her face. “Morning my Lady!” Lit by the light of Illius, Akaerith greeted her with a motherly smile that perfectly fit her enchanting pale visage framed by gracious tresses of her red hair. Aurelithae’s perfectly fair lips curled into a relieved smile and she felt the numbness fade from her limbs.
“Morning Akaerith!” Aurelithae said with her slightly deeper, but still silken voice as she rotated elegantly out from the confines of her sheets, her feet immediately reached the soft carpet spreading far at the side of her bed. As she straightened her upper body, her silken ashen red hair unraveled behind her back and as Akaerith reached her to start combing it, she noticed how close her cleavage was to her now.
“Have you slept well my Lady?” Akaerith’s voice brought her out from the slight stupor induced by the minor realization. For a moment she hesitated to answer as her dreams repeated itself since the incident at the temple for the past half a year. “Yes. It was a delightful night. How was yours?”
Akaerith stopped for a moment and turned her eyes in slight surprise at Aurelithae. “Yes, I had a good night too.” Then she continued combing Aurelithae silken tousled hair, with each gentle push down, strands straightened and their gleam amplified as mana poured from the teeth of the ornated comb.
“Have you met with him?” The sudden question froze Aurelithae as she inspected the white as snow blemishes on her perfectly fair skin. “Yes, but only early on before we got separated by some force.” Aurelithae hesitated for a moment with a pensive look, then answered while staring out the window towards the north.
“Did you ask where he is?” Akaerith stopped the combing and asked when she felt satisfied with the result.
“I know he is from the north, but I don’t wish to pry any further. He will mention it if he feels like it.” Aurelithae said with an imperious tone. “I still believe you should mention it to His Highness. There is a divine reason for the two of you meeting in the land of Oneiro.”
Aurelithae heaved a sigh while her eyes gleamed with solemnity. “I will, but for now Father has enough on his belt.”
Akaerith walked regally towards the cabinet and Aurelithae followed after. The nievhen maid tapped her chin with a pondering look as her eyes went through the myriad dresses inside all still in the shape fitted for a smaller Aurelithae. Then her eyes finally stopped on an ebon black toga with embossed with intricate designs of dancing dragons.
Without saying a word, Aurelithae took of her night garments and spread her arms out. The silvery white hands of Akaerith engulfed in a soft arkhaine aura that proceeded into the dress. Within seconds the regally dark toga grew to match her current size and within a span of a moment, it fitted right onto her delicate form.
“Have a nice day my dear lady!” She slowly danced around in the window and with her mood elevated slightly by her own beauty, Akaerith bowed lightly to her before she left to start her day.
This content has been misappropriated from Royal Road; report any instances of this story if found elsewhere.
**
Isocrates leaned against the smooth wall of a towering building – a small shop where a retired aevhen veneficiar worked, mostly selling scrolls and grimoires he found during his service – with his hand held out with a coin hovering above it, rotating around. While his eyes focused on the coin, he watched the patrolling members of the 1st Legion. Inscriptions slithered around the arkhaine point located in what was adjacent to his brain burning the layout of the street and the points where the legionariir stopped or turned.
It was not the most exciting task given to him by Naghig but at least it helped alleviate his mind. It has been six months since he last saw Luelia and no matter how much he tried to pry Naghig, he only received the same answer. “She has her own tasks to do.” A rather unsatisfactory answer each time that rubbed him the wrong way.
He suddenly stopped when the third patrol made their turn and let the coin fall into his hand that curled up before it even reached his palm. “Thanks.” As the door opened a man with tousled long hair, an eyeless visage with pinkish translucent skin with an obsidian collar around his neck – a vampyr saervun – handed him a stack of scrolls.
With slow steps he followed after them as usual, the flowing inscription within his mind now spread towards the other five arkhaine points lessening his presence. His lips trembled as tickling joy overwhelmed him.
While following after them he also swiftly chipped off from the inscriptions and rewrote them to supply the ones extending his sight. Following the events unfolding the temple, a curfew upheld by the 1st Legion and the Inquistoriir of the Temple was ordered by Emperor Terrianis himself. For this reason the streets were much busier during the days as many folk scoured to get their necessities as many could not rely on their significant others to visit the markets on the way back home.
Only those who were not fit anymore for menial tasks remained home, be it because of a severe injury, or because they were in their twilight years. Though these folk now cast vigilant gazes upon the streets and through their family members, reported to the inquisitiir which was the reason Isocrates dusted off his old academical uniform.
The other reason – which also made him worried for Luelia – was that after the attack the New Dawn was the primary suspect for it. With the recent attacks on the inquisitoriir’s headquarters, the many assassination of high ranking custodiir, it was a natural conclusion that the attack, the assassination attempt was made by them too. That was something he accepted annoyingly.
He suddenly stopped at a kiosk maintained by a haggardly old man with milky eyes, wintry gray tousled hair and myriad wrinkles. His garments on the other hand seemed gaudy for an elderly merchant dealing with scrolls containing spells of every day usage, like animating cleaning utensils or conjuring water paired with guiding.
A smile trembled onto his face and he spoke with a kindly tone while his eyes looked past beyond Isocrates. “Hope he did not scare you boy.”
“Wasn’t the first vampyr I met.” He said kindly as while the elderly man reached out and opened his palm with faded nails way grown without care. “Is he inside?” Then he asked in a low tone while he still followed the two golden armored legionariir reach the end of their patrol.
The two stopped at a towering building that stood vacant the last Isocrates remembered. But with the recent events the 1st Legion – that was stationed on the isles – took the building and renovated the inside while setting up a check point.
The elderly man meanwhile caressed the leather scrolls and smiled before he answered. “Yes, he is waiting for you. He is rather impatient so hurry.” Isocrates heeded his words and bowed quickly before he entered the house to the right.
**
The sun-drenched cobblestones streets of the lower levels pulsed with vibrant life even while legionariir patrolled amongst the busy crowd, inquisitoriir and veneficiir hovered above like specters of distant past. At every twenty meters Speakers' amplified voice broke through the crowd's noise, promising gold and lavish food for all those with any information on the New Dawn.
At one such place, a towering figure of hulking mass stood out draped in refined gray garments. Under the hood an eerily handsome visage plastered with curving thin lips bathed in soft shadows parted by the warm light of the Illius.
His round eyes gleamed with wicked bliss as his attention wandered above, following the imperial magusos. As his lips parted in a maddened smile, golden teeth shined and a silent laughter followed as all those around him noticed as his cheeks parted revealing glistening sinew of fusion of flesh and rare gems. The crowd dispersed in panic while their protectors hurried both on the ground and in the sky.
Yet they proved too slow as his body erupted in flames of dark golden that spread and consumed without care. In their wake, nothing remained, just charred images burnt eternally into the ground. A grim reminder to all, change was coming.