Augermil slowly descended into the chair which at the moment wasn’t fit for his size. Yet midway through the wooden frame emitted a distant howl as its frame, the soft silken cushion stretched wide and by the time he weighted his arms on the chair’s, a relaxed expression spread on his visage. Middias watched from the opposite chair with satisfaction gleaming in his eyes as the tall dragon praetoriar spread his legs far as he gave himself to the comfort of the chair.
“Excuse my manners!” He swiftly straightened his massive torso and his expression turned awkward as he cleared his throat while Middias looked at his idol with mild amusement.
“No need. This just proves my eyes are still good when it comes to goods.” As he said those words the door slowly creaked open and a small dwarf carrying an expensive silver plate with a large keg and two ornated goblets entered. Her skin while fair, it carried a ting of golden like the sand that spread far and wide around the peaks of the Aethgoorn mountain in the south.
She placed the plate slowly and carefully onto the table between the two and then bowed her head with long graying golden hair before she left. “May I?” Augermil nodded his head and let the head of the house pour the silken cherry drink into the goblet closest to him and his muscled fingers wrapped around its uneven surface as he pulled it closer to his silken thin lips.
Just like always, as the drink flowed down his cavernous throat, Augermil found himself in a momentary, blissful trance as the sweetness tickled her being while it spread within the confines of his gut. He closed his eyes for a moment and let out a short sigh then opened them when he remembered why he came to the Laenaes household.
“I won’t slice around the bush, I came here to inquire on what I’m certain may not be a delicate memory for you, but it is imperative to me, to the capital.” He stopped for a moment as he waited for Middias to take his first sip then continued as the calm eyes turned at him. “Do you recall anything regarding the eve of your kidnapping?”
Middias furrowed his thin brows while his eyes for the first time moved down onto the richly hued birch floor. “Truthfully we remember very little – especially my children whose memories we erased of the incident.” His gaze moved back onto Augermil who could not fault Middias, it was a mercy as children that young should not experience the evils of the world he thought.
“But I did do some investigation myself and hired some adventurers to map out the port and the slums where they had taken us.” He continued and Augermil listened silently as he sharpened his mind and ears. “According to one group, they found a tunnel leading to the sewers, which I suspect they may use to transport their victims without being seen.”
Augermil pondered and at first, he was unsure if the sewers would be used as a hiding place. It was true that one could use it travel without being seen, at least if one took care of the patrolling custodiir assigned to that place. Yet his primal part felt the possibility was not zero as it was an expansive system which even, they could not fully surveil at all times.
“Do you think they may be hiding down there?” Middias asked noticing the pensive look on Augermil’s handsome draevhen face.
He nodded twice then perched up from the chair and carefully placed the goblet back onto the plate. “Yes. Thank you for your time!” He said without mincing his words and Middias stood up and the led his guest, and former idol out his home and watched his back for a while as he slowly disappeared in the crowd.
“Master, should I notify Lord Albron?” After he closed the door, Munatius stood before him with a calm expression. “No, don’t need to. He could not do much and I believe it is time to tone down their attacks.” Middias said as he walked past his elderly head steward and headed back to his office. “Though, I would appreciate if you would contact Mirayroth for me.”
**
Isocrates waited for a few seconds within the confines of two imposing houses with sharp, rectangular frames on the eastern plateau of the upper districts. Ever since he stepped out from the confines of his home, he felt a disembodied gaze piercing through his neck hidden under his voluminous dark mane. Yet when he turned around, when he heightened his senses with inscriptions, no source revealed itself to him.
At first, he thought it may have been the work of the cultists, thinking that his killing the dark aevhen – which still twisted his gut whenever he recalled the haunting image of that strange aevhen – he angered the entity behind the cult. This was further proven to him each night, seeing strange silhouettes in the corners of his small room. One night he even followed the silhouette moving into the room of his parents and watched in terror as it loomed over his sleeping brother who slowly grown into a man like him.
Yet nothing came from this except him being tired and making mistakes during his job – as he now was employed as a steward for a magus on the western plateau. A job that paid way better compared to the previous toiling in the mines in the lowest district. It even granted him the opportunity to learn more about the various things, including the inferni and their vile servants the Daemurnus.
Which once more made him think that the source of his mild plight was the Infaerni behind the cult. He did learn that infaerni and daemurnus both were categorized by the Empire’s scholars on whom they preyed upon. There were those who hunted folk who could not rule in their feelings, and when an Infaerni sunk their teeth into them, these feelings were pushed to their extremes.
Those prone to lash out or even took the name of the Deosos upon their lips on the mildest of inconveniences became wrathful, murderous even. Those who enjoyed the tastes of good food, drink could no longer experience satisfaction and fell into ceaseless consuming with some even devouring their own flesh and bones. And those who believed they could do no wrong, believed they could be judges of right or wrong turned into paragons of pride, and gained an aura which forced others into a wicked devotion.
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The last shook him when he read the texts on the Infaerni, as one of the masterful artworks created by the author themselves bore a perfect resemblance to the small fetish which called out to him, infecting him with an urge in the shop of the elderly haebrian. As he recalled the hauntingly beautiful sculpture, he hated himself for thinking what a depraved creation which should be melted down in the flames of Hogstol Mountain.
At the same time, he felt that whatever haunted him could not be an Infaerni. He knew little of the Umvraothoy beside what the Order of Maghia Truths’ clergy taught them. Beings of strange shapes and forms filled with nothing but hate. And a silhouette while dreadful to glare at night, could not count into that. He raked his brain, but could not come to an answer and amidst these thoughts the cold sensation lessened and he took it as his initiative.
He was already late from his meeting with Naghig, who promised him news on Luelia. Thankfully he was not far from his destination as the feeling of being watched only reared itself when he crossed the bridge dedicated to the Forge Mother, and he could already see the largest establishment in the eastern plateau – The Sleeping Nereid Tavern.
Smooth surface of the door caressed his palms as he gently pushed it inwards, and it let out a serene creak which according to some former classmates of his resembled the moan of nereids – daughters of Lord of the Three Oceans, a minor deos and second son of the Nurturing Mother. “You are late.” There were not many patrons which helped Isocrates spot Naghig sitting at the counter reading a hardcovered book of fine literature, his muscle-bound gray form wrapped in inconspicuous garments of earthly and gravely tones.
“Sorry, had to be careful.” Isocrates said as he sat down onto the tall legged chair. Although he credited the unseen stalker of his to some vile entity, he still decided to make numerous stops just in case they were mortal in nature. “You look horrible.” Naghig noted as he turned his gravely crude visage at Isocrates and noticed the dark rings under his eyes.
“Had a rough week. But you did not call me here to point it out.” He wanted to once more inquire about Luelia, but in the end he stopped as he knew he would receive the same answer as before many times. That she was currently doing the bidding of Mirayroth himself so he could not see her which still ached his heart when he thought about it.
“You’re right. I wanted to talk about your new friends and their offer.” At those words cold sweat slithered down his neck and he gulped while sipping in his keg filled with sour mead he just ordered. “How do you know about them?” He exhaled to calm himself down as he realized his fear was unfound to begin with.
“I have eyes and ears everywhere boy. But I won’t beat around the bush. You shall take their offer.” He coughed upon hearing those words. After he left the lair with Augermil and Nawfal, the former offered to vouch for him if he wished to truly join the First Legion. Those words hit him like lightning and at first, he wanted to decline the offer, but instead he just implied to think about it. Which he did not until Naghig brought it up to him.
Regarding wage, it would pay much better than his current job yet it may put him in a situation where he would betray not just the New Dawn, but Luelia he thought to himself. He himself held little confidence in being a double agent which he voiced immediately to the elderly orkh.
“No need to worry about that boy, we can mold it. And in case you get captured, trust me I already made sure that they won’t learn a thing by prying your mind.” Naghig said confidently as he turned back to his book, reached for small collection of seeds and nuts in the embrace of a small wooden bowl and put a hearty amount between his pristine white teeth.
“Although, your efforts were in vain.” He muttered just as the door moaned open once more. Two tall figures draped in sleek, layered robes of vibrant azure, lightweight segmented, angular plates over them stepped inside. Their faces hidden behind masks with slit eyes and mouth made up of glowing runes, Naghig and Isocrates reflected on the perfectly smooth, metallic surface.
No other could have appeared in them as Isocrates noted to himself as the realization hit him. Only the two of them occupied the eastern plateaus’ largest establishment which usually was filled with the noises of those who seek refuge from the hardships of the day.
The two blindly looked together then without exchanging words, headed towards them in a slow space, their arms slightly held out, sparkling with unseen energies. “Stay still.” Naghig said as his gaze remained on the words beautifully scribed onto the pages.
The one directly behind Naghig reached out, spells formed around his arm reaching towards the orkh who at one moment was seemingly lost in the contents of the book, in the next he lurched up from his seating grabbed the hand to which the veneficiar hunched back and screamed silently in pain before he suddenly dropped motionless onto the ground. A puddle of crimson with a touch of golden formed under his body, flowing from all parts, soaking the high grade robes draping the now corpse.
The other sprang into action but by the time a spell was willed into reality, Naghig grabbed him and with palm open and pressed against his chest at which his organs all failed one by one, his bone broke themselves at his order and skin and muscle torn itself open. Isocrates remained hunched over the counter, taking deep breaths as he watched all this unfold within seconds.
“Don’t worry about them. I’ll clean this up.” Naghig said indifferently as he sat back and read his book like nothing happened the past few moments.
“Shouldn’t we hide them in case others wait outside?” Isocrates voiced his question after he was sure he ruled in the trembling of his body and throat while his eyes glued to the two corpses.
“There are no more outside. These two probably just followed you.” Naghig continued ignoring the reeking corpses as he moistened his fingers while turning the page. His head turned up towards Isocrates who calmed himself down in this short moment. “Take the offer.”
“No. They will definitely discover my secret.” Isocrates resisted. “The sooner you accept the offer, the sooner you shall see her.” He gulped and began to ponder as he looked down at his curling fists. For a short moment, he believed the sweet lie and truly thought of accepting it even if he gets discovered during the first round of recruitment.
“I’ll think about it.” Isocrates heaved a sigh then side stepped the corpse as he reached the ground with a soft thud. “Do not take your time with it. Eternity is on their side.” Those were the last words he heard and as he stepped out, he felt relief wash away the anxiety that gripped him within the confines of the Sleeping Nereid.