Irwyn arrived first for breakfast. It was still dark out - presumably actually and not artificially - when he was woken up by one of the servants, early enough to have plenty of time for a quick meal. A full buffet had been laid out by the time he had found his way to the dining hall - an embarrassingly difficult task as the path there was quite different from the one in the last mansion which he had at first followed on muscle memory. He was enjoying the plentiful selection when Elizabeth arrived. Even so early in the morning she already was more than ready for the meeting including all the grooming as well as that familiar black dress. Taking the seat opposite to Irwyn she opened her mouth as to speak and then paused, staring him down for a moment.
“Your eyes turned golden,” she noted.
“I have been meaning to dabble with body enchantment while confined but kept it off,” Irwyn nodded. “I finally did yesterday.”
“I see,” she nodded and squinted again while blindly stacking food on her own plate. “Is it something you intend to maintain permanently?”
“Mostly defensive, yes,” Irwyn nodded.
“I envy your Vessel can handle it,” she sighed.
“I should still get into better shape,” Irwyn admitted. “Abonisle had shown me that running doesn’t treat me well.”
"It can be arranged," she shrugged. "I am more interested in what you managed. It cannot be just defensive."
"Well, I did make something more," Irwyn nodded grinning. "But I would not spoil the surprise. We should spar again."
"Then I will look forward to crushing it anyway," Elizabeth grinned. "I will reserve a suitable place in the afternoon. But first… my mother."
"So, you are coming along," Irwyn concluded. He hadn't been sure, though expected it.
"It has been implied I would not be disallowed and I am not inclined to just leave you at her mercy,” she nodded. “My mother is devious, manipulative, and dangerous."
"She did help us though," Irwyn pointed out. He had reserved judgment but Elizabeth had never been so direct before. Not uncomfortable and worried, but actually calling the Duchess names. And it would be a disservice to her if he didn’t put weight on Elizabeth’s opinion.
"Because she has a use for us," Elizabeth nodded immediately, staring at him intensely. "Make no mistake, she only ever does things that will provide a benefit. If my mother becomes convinced you are more trouble than your potential could be worth there will be an 'accident' within the month."
"You say that but you did once mention to me that she did care in her own way," Irwyn averted his gaze, immediately wondering if he even should have brought it up.
"Yes," Elizabeth sighed and it was deep with a tremble and the brink of longing tears. "Like a beloved, handmade toy. And that sentiment has weight. A lot of weight. But it's not insurmountable."
"Now I am a lot more worried than I was last night," Irwyn sighed a well. "I don't suppose it will be enough to be just a bit charming and polite."
"It very well might be," Elizabeth shook jet head. "You are already on her side, Irwyn, by the virtue of her staunch enemies wanting you dead. What I wanted to warn you about is to not fall for her visage. It will be a masterful lie, but a lie nonetheless."
"All right, anything else?" Irwyn nodded.
"I think, use common sense. Generally, be truthful, even about uncomfortable things. Half the questions she is going to ask she already at least suspects she has the right answer to. I think the main point of contention might be the far future.”
“How far?” Irwyn raised an eyebrow.
“From a decade to a century, I suppose,” Elizabeth shrugged. “With your talent, you have great odds of claiming a Name eventually. And no one wants to risk a hostile Named.”
“What about you then?” Irwyn diverted, unsure what he would do in a year, much less a hundred. “Do you have plans for such a faraway future.”
“Sure,” she nodded. “I intend to become a warmage, then gather enough power that most people cannot bother me. Likely claim a Name myself if I dare at some point. Then I will be able to do whatever I please.”
“No eyes on inheritance?” Irwyn inquired. She was, by her own admission, sixth in the line to House Blackburg.
“Absolutely not,” Elizabeth immediately shook her head. “My eldest brother is already politically entrenched, not to mention if my father claims a Name he may well rule for centuries to come. And most importantly, I don’t want it. All the responsibilities and dangers of ascension for what? Ego and prestige. I will much rather go kill something that needs killing once in a while as a superb mage and be otherwise left alone.”
“I suppose that doesn’t sound bad,” Irwyn nodded. But it seemed… far away. “For now I have every intention to focus on improving my magic and surviving whatever reckoning comes in four years.”
“Hmm,” Elizabeth nodded, thought about something for a second, then sighed and spoke again. “We should get going otherwise we might be late,” she said and stood up and dismissed the magic hiding their conversation from the staff.
“We are not teleporting I take it then?” Irwyn followed.
“Teleporting to and from the palace is forbidden… and very dangerous.”
“That’s why we walked back yesterday,” Irwyn nodded in understanding. They had used a similar endless hallway as he had been brought through. “But dangerous?”
“The entire capital is sitting on millennia of accumulated Voidborn magics and stolen leylines,” Elizabeth nodded. They left through the front door of the mansion which someone had thought to open for them in advance. “And all of it is concentrated on the palace. With enough Void magic in the air Time and Space can become more… loose. And that makes them hazardous to travel since I don’t actually understand Time magic but just use an enchantment.”
“Hence the hall,” Irwyn nodded, pointing at it not far in the distance. It was a familiar gated arch standing to the side of the road with nothing behind it. But Irwyn now knew that such looks were deceiving.
“They call them the Voidways. Which sprawl across the entire palace and much of City Black,” Elizabeth nodded. “Originally constructed by the Voidseeker, a Named Duke from some 900 years ago. They kind of… graft reality together through the Void? I don’t understand it fully myself since it involves high Truths, however, they can lead anywhere.”
“Isn’t it easy to get lost in an infinite hallway?” Irwyn frowned.
“Dozens get lost there every year and are never found,” Elizabeth nodded. “Mostly servants and meager mages who do not understand the danger. Rumor has it that Demons dwell in some corners, guarding the most secret chambers. Though I have either never encountered one or they let me pass without appearing.”
“But you know your way,” Irwyn confirmed, trying not to sound alarmed. Lost in an infinite hallway full of Void magic sounded like a bad way to go for him in particular.
“I am an heiress to House Blackburg. The Voidways will shift to bring me where I seek to go,” Elizabeth nodded with complete confidence. “And even if the unforeseen happens, there are people who would find me. As mysterious as they are for us, the Voidways are built mainly to transport, not hide things. If my father were to properly look he would spot us in seconds no matter how 'deep' we delved.”
“Certainly reassuring,” Irwyn nodded. By then they had already arrived in front of the archway which was opening for them. The streets around them were empty on account of it being actually pre-dawn, though the surrounding mansions - because that was the only kind of building as far as the eye could see - had lights on. Mostly servants so early, Irwyn presumed. There seemed to be an abundance of those in City Black. Entire caste even.
Then they stepped through, Irwyn protected by a barrier unlike when he had been escorted for the trial the day prior. One made of Starfire - because on the way back he had found out that Flame did not properly block out the corrosive effect of the atmosphere. Instead, the dense Void chewed at the Light in his barrier ineffectually. It caused some damage but it was no intentions against five, not even the anathemic properties would overcome that.
“So, where are we actually going for our meeting?” Irwyn inquired. He didn’t really care all that much about that detail but didn’t want the conversation to stall.
“To a secret parlor reserved for the Duke,” Elizabeth said. “If anyone asks, we have gone to a seamstress. My mother does not want it known that she meets people so out of sight on occasion.”
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“Is it not a bit strange to have a private chamber accessible through here?” Irwyn frowned. These Voidways seemed borderline public, or at least widely accessed - otherwise their entrances would not be so common. Or perhaps it was just a bias in the sample size as he had not seen much of City Black yet.
“The Duke is the sole Lord of this Palace,” Elizabeth shook her head. “Places within can only be accessed as long as he allows. This applies exponentially more to places that had been built with the intent of being hidden. Unless another Voidseeker or similar Named arises no one will be able to reach where we are going without consent.”
“Well, it is not every day royalty personally holds the door open for me, I suppose,” Irwyn chuckled.
“It loses its charm eventually,” Elizabeth did likewise. “Two more corridors, then to the right door.”
“How do you know?” Irwyn questioned, looking at the door to the right they just passed. There were two of those on both sides every few feet. Most of them followed one of a select dozen designs, though some appeared unique. “I don’t think you have been counting and you cannot recognize it from out of sight.”
“This place is almost as Void as the Void itself… more than the upper layers actually,” Elizabeth shrugged. “I listen and it whispers the way. Benefits of my talent.”
“The only whisper I get here is the sizzling of my skin trying to melt,” Irwyn muttered.
“We are here,” Elizabeth chuckled, then schooled her expression. “Be ready.”
And he was as much as he could be. The door was on the smaller end of the scale, just human-sized. Into it were engraved symbols in a script Irwyn did not recognize whatsoever - perhaps the Void tongue - and not much else. Elizabeth pushed the door open and Irwyn followed her in.
Before even taking in the room, Irwyn’s eyes immediately found the Duchess, sitting leisurely behind a large work desk with some paper and writing supplies neatly arranged. She seemed… sharper than yesterday. More focused and intent than the act of disinterest she had put on during the trial.
Next to her stood a maid dressed almost normally, wearing the same clothes as all the regular servants Irwyn had seen - except about 20 red flowerheads decorating the standard outfit, haphazardly scattered all around her torso, plus one on the right arm’s shoulder. Irwyn did not get what it meant but a glance at Elizabeth freezing in place for well over a second told him that she certainly did. Well, it would seem like the Duchess was sure they would be both arriving despite the lack of an explicit invitation for her daughter given the preparations taken.
Standing beside Elizabeth, he took in the room itself. It was obviously painted black… but in a strange way where the corners and the intersection between the floor and the walls kind of melded together, becoming invisible. That way it was impossible to visually tell how large the room actually physically was, taking on the illusion of an infinite blackness… Presumably illusion, Irwyn would believe it if he was told the room was actually endless in the literal sense. What did not help was the lack of any discernible furniture or other decoration besides the desk the Duchess sat behind. Except one, Irwyn realized, his eyes wandering behind and above Avys von Blackburg.
There, as if in the far distance – or just drawn really small – there was something there. Irwyn stared at it with a frown, unsure if his eyes were deceiving him. But he felt beyond a shred of a doubt that it was more than nothing. After a second he realized that there was a single spot that was darker than the complete pitch of everywhere else. The room was already so black that the difference was downright academic, yet now that Irwyn focused on it, it seemed to draw him in.
That is no dot, Irwyn realized, though he wasn’t sure how. “Temzda, that’s what it is,” he muttered, then frowned deeper. He had never heard the word before yet it rolled off his tongue with familiarity. Wait, off the tongue. Irwyn looked up and realized both Avys and Elizabeth were staring at him. Well, there went being careful, Irwyn wanted to curse at his carelessness. He had been too taken by the moment he had actually let the words slip and be spoken out loud. Worse, he wasn’t sure if that was just him being careless or something genuinely affecting his mind. Nor certain which would be better.
“It seems you are surprisingly knowledgeable in Void lore, Irwyn,” Avys smiled wide. “Though not the kind I would have expected you to be.”
“It has come up in our conversations,” Elizabeth spoke before Irwyn could scramble for a response. “The term is not a secret and Irwyn can be surprisingly perceptive to the Void because of its opposition to his Light magic.”
“Yes, indeed,” Avys glanced at him again and he managed to not let anything slip into his expression. He wasn’t sure why Elizabeth covered for him or what the word actually meant but he could ask later. “But please sit,” the Duchess clapped her hands softly, turning towards the maid, “You may leave.”
“Was that really necessary?” Elizabeth asked as soon as the door shut behind the servant. She did not sound happy.
“It seems that it was in far poorer taste than I thought,” Avys paused, looking over Elizabeth’s sour expression. “In that case, I apologize. You have never indicated any sign of care.”
“If I had you would have just used it in a different way,” Elizabeth did not seem to have been made any happier by that, though Irwyn felt out of the loop.
“Perhaps a conversation for another time,” Avys sighed so deeply Irwyn could almost feel the tiredness of it before changing the topic.
“Perhaps,” Elizabeth slowly nodded with a tone that clearly said she meant ‘no’.
“I have invited you to speak of Irwyn’s circumstances rather than your disproportionate mistrust of your own mother. “But please take your seats,” she gestured towards the two chairs across from her and they indeed did. The Duchess waited for them before she spoke again. “So, Irwyn, it is a pleasure to make your acquaintance in private.”
“The pleasure is mine, Your Ladyship,” Irwyn nodded politely. “You seem rather… different than in public.”
“Such are the tolls of office,” the Duchess shook her head lightly. “I am forced to don the clothing of a sheep as the saying goes, lest the other dragons feel threatened.”
“And it is very convincing,” Irwyn nodded. “I would not have guessed if not for all the warnings from Elizabeth as well as the message you sent me.”
“I am glad you noticed,” Avys kept smiling. “It can be hard at times to get something specific enough in a room full of people. Honestly, it always infuriates me when someone doesn’t.”
“You don’t do the dresses if the target won’t notice,” Elizabeth was still frowning.
“There is no certainty when accounting for people, Lizzy,” the Duchess shook her head. “No matter how much you prepare, the human mind can always come up with something unpredictable. It is all about making sure that even if that happens you get your desired results.”
“Speaking of results…” Irwyn jumped in before Elizabeth could retort again “...if it were so easy to get the case against me you wouldn’t have gone with this entire act, Your Ladyship. I am rather curious why it would have been done this way.”
“Oh, the answer is simple Irwyn:” the Duchess looked over at him. “Obsession!”
“Obsession?”
“Yes, Obsession,” the Duchess nodded. “Ah, but it is something that cannot be just said, so picture this: You know of a man whom every day picks up a rock at a specific part of the road, then carries it with him all the way home, where he discards the pebble and stops caring. You find this curious so you confront him. But no matter what you say, whatever you try to argue he always picks up that rock again the next day and brings it to his doorstep, refusing to so much as hint at as to why. If you use force the man would rather cling to the rock than to their own life. Day by day, the man always takes it and then throws it away. Then picture this Irwyn: You realize that for some reason you would benefit greatly from the number of rocks not reducing in number day after day. What would you do?”
“Practically?” Irwyn frowned, not willing to not indulge the duchess. He was not seeing the point, at least not yet. “There are many options. I could bring new rocks there from somewhere else. Maybe bring them back from where the man leaves them. Or more realistically, pay someone to do it on a daily basis. Plenty of slum rats would do it for a pittance if they lived somewhat nearby. Most radically the man could be killed.”
“Yes, that is a practical answer,” the Duchess nodded while Elizabeth kept silent. “Then imagine you wished to rob that man. How would you do it?”
“Discarding magic…” because then it would not be much of a fight, presumably “...When they are leaning over for the rock sound like the too obvious answer.”
“It is not a wrong one,” Avys shook her head. “The opportunity is too perfect to pass up on. You only need to wait for them to pick up the rock as you know they always will. Then Irwyn, a different case: You find the man carrying the rock offensive to your sensibilities so you confront him again, insisting that he stops. When you do the man offers you instead to pay you a significant sum of money to leave him to his habit. You are doubtful but then the man actually pays you in real money. Then when you come the next day the exchange goes exactly the same way. All that wealth just for asking for it and leaving that man alone to his madness. Would you take it?”
“Obviously I would,” Irwyn shrugged. “If it only offended my sensibilities that is. But that is no real harm comitted, unlike what you seem to have done, Your Ladyship. You did not take just a roadside rock.”
“So then, what if it’s not a roadside rock but a single brick from your house?” Avys suggested.
“And I would receive enough to fix it?” Irwyn nodded, understanding dawning on him.
“More than enough,” the Duchess nodded. “So much so that you could pay the artisan double for the mending and still have most of the money left every day.”
“I think I see what you are saying,” Irwyn nodded. “People will not fight you on a ground that they know you will never budge from. Everyone knows that her Ladyship Avys von Blackburg cares about children. That she has caused a war with the Duchy of Yellow over children. Therefore, you can force them to accept bribes in places where they would never do so otherwise. Such as in matters of Pride like my case. You confront them in this way turning a clear weakness into strength, then you - or rather someone else, perhaps the Duke himself - apologize and compensates them for the trouble caused. Except you are gaining something else in the meantime.”
“Almost, and that is a big part of it. Perhaps more than a half. And yet…” Avys kept smiling, though it seemed a bit deeper now.
“You did not ask the most important question,” Elizabeth sighed with annoyance, like someone who had gone through the same riddle before but did not figure out the answer on her own. “Supposedly, no one ever does.”
“Imagine then Irwyn that one day you decided to murder the man,” the Duchess seemed to be barely suppressing a laugh. “So you prepare for that moment they lean down. They have done so every day in the exact same spot in the exact same way. For so long you can barely remember the before. With such consistency it is unimaginable they would do something else. So as they approach that spot you prepare, knowing that in just a few moments they will turn their back to you so that you can take out your weapons and kill them. And just before that moment… the man turns to you and shoots you in the head.”
Irwyn blinked, surprised. That defies the rules of the scenario. The pattern set at the heart of the whole supposition… but that is the point, isn’t it?
“Because you did not ask the most important question,” Elizabeth glumly quoted from next to him. “You saw a man in throes of apparent madness and found it unbending. So you learned to act around the insanity, used it to your advantage. Over and over again. But never once did you stop to ponder: Is the man actually mad?”
“Because no one questions an obsession,” Avys grinned proudly, glancing at Elizabeth who had probably just echoed the duchess' own words. “Because after years it becomes a set fact they cannot fathom changing. And in this cruel reality, all it takes is one fatal miscalculation at the right moment.”