With a throbbing headache, Eadwald slowly furled his eyes and stared at the shifting wooden ceiling of the room. He let out a soft moan as he relished the softness beneath his body sinking into the bed, his mind drifted back to his room, hearing the tiptoeing of Sigi as he waits for him to wake up in the short hallway separating their rooms, the slow turn of pages as Amiriniel reads one of her books bought in the market after another caravan visited them from the south, the sizzling of breakfast while Mirdbruil hummed some old song.
And the spade striking into the frozen ground, the conjured heat melting the ice while Ulrich groaned with each lift of the heavy earth before he planted some now flower, he bought to please Mirdbruil for staying out too late or once more after Aelfsigior or Gna reported him once more leaping head first into battle. This momentary illusion faded the moment he turned his head and faced Priernuss good as new sitting with a solemn expression on his stubbly half-aevhen face.
“Good morning.” He said in husky tone, forcing a smile on his face. “Where am I?” Eadwald slowly rose from the bed, the headache increasing as he now sat facing Priernuss, cold seeping in from the floor beneath his feet.
“In Vhoragos, namely in one of the best suites of the Scrupulous Phaerun.” Said Priernuss while his eyes circled the quite spacious room filled with beds littered by tousled sheets and pillows.
“The others?” Feeling his throat dry, Priernuss levitated a wooden cup filled with water to Eadwald who took it. “Down eating breakfast. I told them to go ahead.”
“Even father?” As soon as he spoke out those words with haste, a palpable, gloomy shadow dimmed the suite. The silence accompanying it broke when Priernuss took a deep breath while locked his eyes then opened them piercing Eadwald.
“There is no easy way of saying this, but I am afraid he did not make it. I and Aelfsigior were the last one who stepped through the portal while Ulrich held back the revenants from passing through.” Eadwald froze and his eyes welled up with tears but he forced them back whence they came.
“Then we have no time to lose. We have to head back and help him!” He said forcing each word as he felt pebbles lodging in his throat.
“Listen Eadwald, it is too late. He is gone.” Priernuss said as comfortingly as possible. “You don’t know that. Father is strong enough to cut through some nameless dead even if it takes days.”
Priernuss sighed, halted him when his firm hand grappled onto his shoulder and pulled him back. The two faced at each other, Priernuss’s mind racing for the right words. “Even if that is the case, we will arrive late be it on foot or through the gate.”
Eadwalds’ brow rose questioningly. “Greigor Gates are not perfect. While it eases the travel by not needing to fear the night ands its inhabitants, time does not halt its march. Look!” Priernuss lead him to the window where the two stared out to the narrow street of Vhoragos’s third inner district obliquely stretching downwards. The rays of the Illius mingled with faint tints of violet, caerulean belonging to the autumnal season of Septupruo following after the chaotic spring season of Indaemetrua.
“I am truly sorry to say this, but we are too late either way.” Priernuss said, sorrowful tones burrowing themselves into each word of his. “Now come and eat. You need it.”
**
The Scrupulous Phaerun was one of the finest establishments in Vhoragos, near the palace district sitting on the top of the steep hill the city was built on almost eight centuries ago. It was built by the Canisia family, consisting of lievhei whom integrated into the Empire around its establishment in Elhyrissian during the dawn war and remained loyal to them, though as many of their kin fought against the spreading Empire, they were only allowed to join the pariah legions, including the nineteenth.
The edifice itself followed the Uethlidian Style of rigid geometrical silhouette, in its case a pentagonal shape erected in one of the corners of the fourth inner wall bathing constantly in the shadow of a hexagonal watch tower of homogenous dark stones stacked neatly together, rhombus contoured windows on all three levels and a singular chimney where conjured flames spread a temperate warm across the vast interior expanded by spatial enchantments woven into the building pillars.
The whole ground floor consisted the bar and dining area where they also recorded the guests in the lodging tome. Eadwald slowly descended the narrow stairs placed in the center of ground floor facing rows of long tables, the far broadening and tall counter where three different folks scoured behind, filling the empty kegs of the patrons and guests, while from behind them in a faux walled fashion, tantalizing scents of boiling broths, soups, roasted meat and saccharine pastries swelled across the ground floor.
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“Thank the One and the Eight your fine brother!” As soon as he stepped down, the floor creaked softly beneath his feet and Azugh who sat with the others near the stairs sprouted from the bench and rushed him. “I should be the one to say that.” Eadwald said pushing the sorrow away, forcing the smile on his face as their arms locked firmly together.
“You know how we are. Need more than that to kill an orkh.” As he said those words, Azugh welled up with remorse then turned and pulled Eadwald along softly. “Come, you must be starving.”
Aelfsigior noticing him smeared the sorrowful expression of his face and greeted him shortly before moving on towards Priernuss. Eadwald stared at the two whispering, knowing the contents of their whispers even without hearing them, though for now he ignored the certainty and sat down besides the others at the table clouded by disconsolateness.
Not knowing what to say, Eadwald started by reaching for the keg placed before him by the stolid plant-folk attendant of tender and wintry floral epidermis and raised it high up. “To Lioba! May she rest peacefully and may we meet her again one day!” The others followed as Aelfsigior and Priernuss arrived and almost blurted out a final farewell to Ulrich too but stopped themselves out of vain hope, of absent possibilities of his survival.
“Where is Hevaeck?” Eadwald asked while gorging on his early morning repast consisted of freshly smoldering pork slices and crunchy bread fresh out from the nearby oven.
“Well he departed not long after the healers finished patching up our wounds. He said he has some business to report, though he said he shall visit us once he done so.” Ashnan answered while he stirred his fisherman’s soup which consisted mostly of the inhabitants of swimming in the northern rivers and lakes, a close kindred of his.
“Hope before we set off.” When he spoke those words, Priernuss and Aelfsigior looked at each other then the latter turned to Eadwald.
“That won’t happen. We shall stay here and wait until the Draennith Praetoriir come to pick you up.”
“They can pick me up back at home.” Eadwald retorted resolutely. “I won’t leave until I confirm father is alright at home.”
Aelfsigior straightened his posture while mustering his strength in tandem. “As your current commanding officer, we shall stay here until they arrive. Then we may convince them to take you back with us to confirm whether he survived or not.”
Before Eadwald could contest, Gna pushed his shoulder down keeping him in place. “We both know Ead that he is a tough bastard. If he survived, he would flip out not just because traversing the north is dangerous, but because wasting the Draennith Praetoriir’s time is not a wise choice, especially if you want to be amongst their ranks one day.”
“Fine. I’ll stay but at least I want to send a message to home.” He calmed down and continued to munch on his breakfast. “That we can do.” Aelfsigior added then continued their morning feast in a gloomy silence.
**
“You have done well Brother Hevaeck!” Hevaeck stood alone in the dim room lit only by the candles circling around the nonagonal rug. On its dark surface, embroidered contrastingly was a lean figure of blindingly white epidermis, wholly devoid of features, hair or beard, its arms spreading and rotating periodically like a dial.
“I am unworthy of such praises. I can only thank the Almodo for the success of the mission so far.” He uttered while in a kneeling position, facing the rug with closed eyes, his beard hanging down while pushed against his dimly purple robes knitted from the finest of linens, its luster enhanced by the slime of southern oozes occupying the cavities of the deserts.
“Well said! Though it was surprising to hear that the Queen of the Damned attack on the monastery. Are you sure she was aided by the Nightscale?” The tall man whose deep, sonorous voice accentuated each word with eloquence echoed through the space and trembled Hevaeck as it evoked the memory of his friends, his few students forced into an accursed existence.
His warm breath streaming from his large nostrils rustled his graying beard as he stared up into his eyes burning with conviction. “I am most sure of that. Only he could elevate that wretched specter to destroy the wards of the Amber Lord!”
“I believe your words my friend. Though my doubts lie more in the fact of your belief his servants lurk in the city.”
“I have no concrete evidence yet, but I believe they are responsible for ailments of the city. Which is why I’d like to request increasing our agents watching over young Eadwald. Now that he is here, they shall most certainly will try to eliminate him like the boy in the south.” Hevaeck said with a solemn tone as he reminisced of the perplexing forest of crimson grown where once a small quaint village rested amongst the vibrant dunes.
“So be it. Though it may take time, so try to find them and eliminate them before they can act.”
“I shall do so. The next time I’ll report I promise I shall be bringer of good news.” Hevaeck said and exhaled tiredly when the projection before him faded into the darkness of the room. He walked to the nearest window and glared at the menacingly mounting walls of Dhaugruz beneath the gathering black clouds.