The clock struck 11.
Many things around the Citadel were changing.
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The Lady of the Court of Flowers frowned as the Lord of the Court of Petals walked across her path. They had a moment of tension, their similar Courts naturally causing them to be repellant to each other. But at least the the Lord of the Court of Petals bowed his head and gestured for her to go first into the chamber beyond.
"Will we still be able to see the Game from here?" she asked as she passed him.
"Indeed, the Game will always show very well inside the King's Chambers." He replied.
Any more conversation was canceled out as the Crier announced the Arrival of the Lady of the Court of Flowers.
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The Lord of the Northern Winds unleased his power. He felt the mountains to the north, and the sharpness of the cold. He was the wind, and with it, everything it touched. His focus found at last an old, golden bracelet. Lost and buried in the snow. No one would find it. He would make sure of it.
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The Seawhich arrived, though she was not announced. That was well. Out of water, much of her grandeur was diminished. She had not spent the time to glamour herself into a more attractive form, as was custom. She was not Fae, but the Fae had overtaken her realm so much that there was no where else for her to go.
But she was not here for herself. She was here to watch. Not the Game. No, she came to watch the Lords of Fae, High Fae and Low Fae alike. She came to watch them panic.
She came to enact her own plans, when the time came.
So long as no one cheated, it was clear that Elswith would over come this.
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The Eastern courtyard was in turmoil, as lids were pulled off heavy chambers. The...creatures...released.
The fae who had opened the lid did not fare well. It had always been something of a sacrificial position.
The creatures released had nightmarish proportions, gnarled multiple limbs, and eyes, that was clear. It was not clear where those eyes went and whether they arrived there correctly however. The oozing slick marred the ground where they gathered, as vague as a dream. It was appropriate, as they were captured nightmares from the Human Realm.
Their master whistled, once, low and sharp.
The nightmares' master threw a garment of clothing in the midst of them.
"Get him." Said the Fae.
And the nightmares faded, and disappeared into the pavement.
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"Where is he?" asked the Lord of Grass. She had left the parlor she had been watching the Game. Well, it was more accurate to say that since everyone else had left, she went in search of more people. And there was no place with more Fae of Influence and means than the King's Ball. But she couldn't see the Game here...
Only a few servants lingered near her, but they were no fun. So she went stalking for her peers to talk to.
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The veiled figure in the Sedan arrived, unfashionably early. But this was not a night to be late. Those milling around outside the Ballroom all parted.
As they should.
The Crier drew away upon the veiled figure's entrance, fear clear upon his face. Beads of sweat appeared on the fae's brow, but the Crier did his job well. "Now Entering. The Bladed Master."
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The veiled figure glanced, once, softly at the Crier. The poor Fae froze as the intent was revealed for just one second.
Then the veiled figure chuckled, the sound of broken glass echoing, and entered the room.
The chuckle remained for moments longer, repeating and repeating, like a sound echoing from a deep well.
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In the Stable, Kenton paused as they passed by a mirror, leaning against a wall, forgotten. There was a hum of magic, and Kenton belatedly realized it was showing something to an audience of no one. It may actually be valuable, but Kenton doubted he could take anything from here. 11 o'clock had come, and now a sinking feeling was entering him: Could they get to where the Stable was taking them, and then leave before the turn of a new day? Midnight was fast approaching.
The split between today, tomorrow, and yesterday. And it was very dangerous to remain in the stable.
And yet, despite knowing he should hurry, he couldn't help himself and approached the mirror. Shelby had to backtrack and returned to his side.
"It's the Game." Kenton said at last, recognizing it at last. "Only high ranking servants can watch it easily, though there are some clubs apparently that have a way to view it."
"Mirror mirror in the hall, where is the ketchup?" Said Shelby softly, mostly to herself; another joke perhaps. But the Game played on, and didn't answer her question. "So this shows Branch?"
"Well, yes. It should...."
"Where is he?" she asked, after a moment.
Kenton looked at the mirror for several moments.
"I don't see him."
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The Lord of Dew stepped closer to his companion, as they tried to understand why the Game hadn't turned on yet.
"So strange." Said his current companion, the Senator McLennan. "It normally would be observable from here."
They were huddled against the backwall, as far away from the very crowded party as they could while they tried to solve their current problem. Both were very puzzled, and a small debate had broken out between them as they tried to problem solve. A servant offered them wine.
The Senator McLennan took a glass, frustration on her face. "I just don't understand...did the Servant Branch die?"
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Johnson Fliddlesmight, Clerk of the Servants Keep Hall, sighed as he long last returned to his chamber. He had worried he'd miss the closing salvo of the Game. Since most of his coworkers had been replaced with others that morning, he had fallen massively behind. Then he had been pulled into setting up and preparing the King's Ball. It dragged on forever and ever, and forced him to miss the first two assassination attempts of the Game.
But finally he got free from all of that and went home. At long last he slipped into his night gown, his night cap, and his little slippers with the pointy toes that he loved. At long last, he undid the magic that served as his girdle, and his belly jiggled free at last, and would have snapped off some buttons if he had left his stiff shirt on.
He went to his little couch, grabbing a small bowls of nuts and a blanket. He started munching on the nuts as he arranged his blanket around him. He planned to watch the Game until he got tired and went to bed...Or he'd just fall asleep on his couch again.
He finally got settled, and started the Game.
And saw...
It was just the King's Ball again. He had just come from there.
Johnson Fliddlesmight tried readjusting the Game. When there were little games, there may be several going at once, and sometimes mistakes happened. But now...it didn't work. It just showed the King's Ball, again and again.
He watched, and noticed several important Fae appearing very confused. The Game showed several Fae, a Senator and a Lord, if Johnson Fliddlesmight recalled correctly, complaining about not seeing the Game at all, and hypothesizing that the Servant Branch may have died.
But that wouldn't be, couldn't be. Because the Game was still working. He could see it, even though there was nothing worth seeing currently...
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The Seawhich watched the confusion sweep through the large ballroom. A Servant approached her, and offered her a glass of wine.
She took it, not looking at the servant beyond that initial moment.
But those watching closely would have noticed she smiled into her wine.
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A stranger placed the final detail in her hair, her blue gray eyes glowing softly. The dark crimson rose contrasted sharply with her cool toned blonde hair. Some called it ash blonde, but she had always disagreed. Ash was the color of ruint, after all. And she was far from that.
Her steward appeared behind her. Winning him to her side had been a endless trial, but at long last she had worn the old Fae down. At long last, she had captured his attention.
"Matheus," she said, carefully saying his Harbor name perfectly.
His face twitched, then he pulled back the cloth. There lay a simple, if somewhat wicked looking blade.
"It's almost time for me." she said.
Elswith would never be the Heirling of the Red Sword again. Not if she could help it. Not if it still reached for him.
"How do I look?" She asked her steward.
"To die for." Said a different voice, and Regis entered the chamber, offering her his arm.
"Excellent." She said.