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CHAPTER IX:
The Last Night of Nobility
Morning,
23 Flamestar 1011,
The Age of Night
26 Days until the Night of the Moon
Grazzli Estate, Fioranz
The morning light was beginning to pierce through the foreboding halls of The Grazzli Estate. Belzon had made a fire in the fireplace, and was staring at it. The flames were dancing in the black beads that were his eyes. Síbela, still in her night gown, came down the spiral staircase and noticed her father, not moving. Unusual deep lines of worry etched themselves on his immortally young face. Visible signs of turmoil were consuming him as the flames crackled.
"Father," Síbela spoke softly, her voice carrying a gentle melody of compassion. "Have you… been up all night?"
As Síbela's voice broke the silence, Belzon slowly shifted his gaze from the mesmerizing flames to his daughter's concerned face. The flickering light reflected in his dark eyes, creating an eerie glow that seemed to mirror the unrest within his soul. He blinked wearily, as if awakening from a trance, and a faint smile played at the corners of his lips.
“My child… you would not know the sights I have beheld in this city this night.”
Síbela froze. She had seldom seen him so wrought and consumed with concern. Even as Governor… he was always jovial and resolute… brimming with confidence. But not this morning. The Governor’s voice carried weariness, as if he had been sapped of all his breath. "There are depths of darkness I have encountered, sights that would burden your young heart."
Síbela's breath caught in her throat, her eyes widening with a mixture of anticipation and concern. The words hung in the air, fettered with unspoken truths, as she sensed her father's need to shield her from the harsh realities that plagued his mind.
"Father," she spoke, her voice soft yet determined, "I understand your desire to protect me. But I am not a child anymore."
Belzon’s eyes met Síbela's, gratitude and apprehension mingling in their depths. He reached out, his weathered hand seeking solace in the touch of his daughter's gentle hands. The warmth of their connection offered a brief respite from the weight of the world.
"My dear Síbela," Grazzli's voice carried a mix of love and urgency, “You are the most precious thing in this world. You represent so much more than you know. You are the embodiment of… hope.”
Síbela’s eyes began to well up… she really knew something was wrong now.
“...there is a storm on the horizon, one that threatens everything I have spent my life trying to create. In the depths of this night, I have witnessed omens and heard whispers from Umbraneth that tell me you are in grave and imminent danger."
Síbela's heart raced within her chest, her pulse quickening with a blend of fear and determination. She felt the gravity of her father's words… particularly that one. Umbraneth. The realm of eternal shadow… a mirror kingdom, of phantoms and wraiths.
As Síbela absorbed her father's words, a mixture of emotions surged within her. Grazzli's declaration of her significance, the weight of his concern, and the mention of Umbraneth, the realm of eternal shadow, all coalesced into a sense of impending danger that sent chills down her spine.
“Father… you’re… talking mad… what’s gotten into you this morning? Are you well?”
Belzon continued to stare stonely into the flames.
Tears welled up in Síbela's eyes, their shimmering droplets reflecting her growing unease. The magnitude of her father's words washed over her like a tidal wave, sweeping away any remnants of her previous tranquility. She clutched onto his hand, seeking solace and reassurance amidst the mounting uncertainty.
"Father," she whispered, her voice quivering with a mixture of fear and determination. "Are you… okay? Umbraneth? Why are you talking like this… W-why am I in such grave danger? We’re… here… in the heart of the Empire. We have guards at every door of this estate."
Belzon's grip tightened, his eyes brimming with a fierce protectiveness. He could feel the weight of his daughter's concern, and it pained him to see her engulfed in this storm of uncertainty. His voice, though tinged with worry, held an undercurrent of unwavering resolve as he sought to ease her apprehension.
"That's exactly why you are in danger, child!" he exclaimed sharply, causing Síbela to flinch, rising and towering over her. For a moment… she thought she could see his face begin to show the dreadful reptillian features she had seen in her mirror.
Síbela's heart raced within her chest. Something was truly wrong. Her father was always tender with her… but in this moment… she… feared him. She took a deep breath, steadying herself as she absorbed the gravity of the situation. Though fear still clung to her, a determination began to flicker within her spirit.
Belzon's eyes bore into hers, their depths filled with equal parts love and concern. He knew the journey that lay ahead would be fraught with peril, yet he remained resolute in his duty to protect his daughter.
"You must leave this place at once," Belzon declared, his voice firm. "Gather your most valuable belongings. I am arranging for your departure immediately. Time is of the essence, and we must act swiftly if we are to ensure your safety."
Síbela's mind raced, a whirlwind of conflicting emotions churning within her. Protest rose within her like a storm, threatening to unleash its tempestuous winds.
“Leave? Father… leave Fioranz?”
“No, child. Leave, as in leave the country!” Belzon snapped. “As far away from the Empire’s hounds as possible!!”
Síbela blinked, her eyes glistening with tears. She was overcome with a mix of powerful emotions that had welled up in her stomach and behind her cheeks. She couldn’t control her thoughts but soon realized… it was happening. Her world was crashing down before her. Even if this was some strange drunken episode or a result of some Venganzi alchemy gone awry… she knew there was no coming back the same from this conversation.
“But… Father… what about my wedding? Daryusz.”
Síbela's voice trembled, her words catching in her throat as she mentioned her impending wedding. The thought of her love for Daryusz that she had now resigned to, the plans they had carefully woven together. It all seemed insignificant now, compared to this strange looming danger that supposedly threatened her very existence.
Belzon's gaze hardened, his voice filled with urgency and a hint of harshness. "My dear Síbela, you must understand the gravity of the situation, I will not repeat myself. I will shackle you and send you away if I must." he insisted, his tone almost biting. "This is not the time for personal desires or dreams. We are on the precipice of a catastrophe, and your safety must take precedence over everything else."
Síbela's heart constricted, her breath catching as she absorbed her father's words. The edges of her vision blurred with tears as she struggled to reconcile her love for Daryusz with the pressing need for self-preservation.
"But Father," she pleaded, her voice quivering with both desperation and defiance. "I can't simply abandon everything, everyone I hold dear. There must be another way, a way to protect ourselves without sacrificing everything we've worked for."
Belzon's features contorted with a mix of frustration and concern. He reached out, gripping Síbela's shoulders firmly, his touch almost bordering on rough. "You don't understand, Síbela," he snapped, his voice began laced with a tinge of desperation… his countenance dropping… it was a rare emotion from a ven… one she had never seen before. He too… was afraid. He continued. "Umbraneth… knows no bounds, and its darkness threatens to swallow us whole. If we do not act now, there will be no future, no love, no dreams left to protect."
Síbela recoiled slightly, her heart pounding in her chest. His words stung, his intensity overwhelming. Yet, deep down, she recognized the depths of his love and the urgency that drove him to such a brink. A flicker of understanding ignited within her, pushing aside her own desires in favor of survival.
As Síbela carefully considered his words, the weight of the situation bore down upon her. The room was filled with a tense silence, broken only by the crackling of the fireplace. Suddenly, a sharp knock echoed through the hall, causing her heart to leap in her chest.
"Quickly!" Belzon's urgent voice rang out, his tone filled with a sense of impending danger. Síbela's eyes widened, and without hesitation, she darted toward the door. Her nightgown billowed behind her as she rushed to answer the call, her mind racing with a mix of fear and determination.
With a shuddering breath, Síbela met her father's gaze, her eyes glistening with both fear and determination. "I... I will do as you ask," she murmured, her voice filled with resignation. "I will gather my belongings and prepare to leave."
Belzon's grip loosened, his eyes softening with a mix of regret and relief. His voice was now tempered with a gentle sorrow. "I know this is not an easy decision, but it is one that must be made. Together, we will face the perils that lie ahead and find a way to preserve what truly matters."
"Síbela," Belzon's voice carried a mix of urgency and determination, his eyes fixed on his daughter. "Listen to me carefully. You must gather your belongings quickly, but do not leave the estate just yet. Instead, make your way to our boathouse on the peninsula. It's a secluded spot, hidden from prying eyes."
Síbela's eyes widened, her heart quickening its pace in response to her father's words. The mention of the boathouse brought forth images of tranquility and refuge, a place they had often sought solace in happier times.
"But Father," she began, her voice tinged with both concern and curiosity, "why the boathouse? Is it safer there?"
Belzon's grip tightened on her shoulders, his eyes filled with unwavering determination. "The boathouse is a sanctuary, a place we can regroup and make further plans," he explained, his voice filled with a sense of urgency. "There are fewer eyes and ears in that secluded spot, and it will provide temporary shelter until we can assess the situation and find a safer path forward."
Síbela nodded, her mind racing as she absorbed her father's instructions. The boathouse... it held memories of family outings, of peaceful moments spent by the shore. Now, it would become a place of refuge in the face of uncertainty.
"Travel light," Belzon continued, his voice steady yet filled with concern. "Take only what is absolutely necessary for our immediate survival. We must be prepared for a swift departure when the time comes."
Síbela's hands trembled as she envisioned the boathouse, nestled by the calming waters, would be their temporary haven amidst the storm. She understood the significance of her father's instructions and the need for caution.
"I... I understand, Father," she replied, her voice filled with a mixture of determination and trepidation.
Belzon's gaze softened, a glimmer of warmth in his eyes amidst the turmoil. "You are strong, my dear Síbela," he murmured, his voice filled with love and reassurance. "I have faith in you. Together, we will weather this storm and emerge stronger on the other side."
With a nod, Síbela turned to face the task at hand. She ascended the spiral staircase to her quarters and hurriedly gathered the most essential items, her hands moving with a sense of urgency. Each item she chose held a purpose, a lifeline to their survival.
Sibela moved through her room with a mixture of determination and sorrow, her emotions woven into each careful fold of fabric. She approached her closet, the door creaking open as if echoing the weight of her decision. Inside, amidst a collection of dresses and trinkets, nestled her most cherished possession - a Drü bow and quiver.
As she reached for it, her fingers trembling, memories flooded her mind like a rushing river. With a gentle touch, she traced the bow's intricate carvings, each mark telling a story of its own. It had been a graduation gift from her teacher, a symbol of their shared love for archery and the bond they had formed during those fiery moments of practice. The bow held not just power but also the memories of laughter, competition, and the reassurance that came from knowing her father was always by her side. She remembered her time at the Fioran Academy as a youth, her betrothed, Daryuzs... and him.
As Sibela packed her belongings, the weight of the bow and quiver felt both comforting and bittersweet. They represented her connection to a past that seemed distant yet ever-present in her heart. With each item carefully placed in her bag, her mind conjured images of the boathouse, a sanctuary amidst the storm. She envisioned the tranquil waters, their gentle lapping against the shore, and the sense of safety it provided in a world filled with uncertainty. In her mind’s eye she saw… Íbolín. Standing beside her, their gazes were locked for a moment, before she shook it off.
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With the bow and quiver carefully secured among her belongings, Sibela closed the closet door, taking a moment to absorb the weight of her choices. She knew that the road ahead would be treacherous and fraught with danger, but Belzon had filled her with something she was not accustomed to feeling… fear. Whatever it was that had shaken Belzon’s jovial state was clearly something she had to acknowledge.
Leaving her room, she made her way through the halls of the estate, and down to the basement, where a cold, salty draft came in from a dusty door. She struggled with it momentarily, but wiggled the door open. The passage lead to the Fioran wood, where she could safely make her way to the northernmost part of the peninsula. She took a deep breath, then pushed herself forward, her steps purposeful and swift. Her mind focused on the path that lay before her, the boathouse serving as a beacon of hope in the midst of uncertainty. As she reached the threshold of the estate’s basement, she cast one final glance back, bidding farewell to the life she once knew.
Downstairs, Belzon had risen and dusted himself off, but scrunched his face as if he had been sleeping to appear inconspicuous. He took a last breath and went to answer the door which had been sharply knocked. He used a light amount of arcana and opened the large gate.
“Oh thank goodness you’ve come, Valora.”
Before him stood the tall, eyepatched figure of Captain Valora Minsz. Her uniform was pristine and she had a no-nonsense look on her face. Her armor and sabatons shone and her red hair was tightly tied in a bun.
“You summoned me, Governor?”
Belzon took a quick scan of the courtyard and saw no one. He then whistled and motioned with his head for the guards to leave the doorstep and maintain a wider position.
“Please. Come inside.”
“I don’t have all day.” She said sharply.
“It is of grave importance, Valora.”
Valora squinted… intrigued.
As they stepped into the den, her eyes were immediately drawn to the stunning silver stone flooring that shimmered in the light. Soft red velvet rugs added a cozy touch, inviting guests to sink their toes into their plush texture. The room was adorned with beautiful accent pieces, each carefully selected to complement the overall aesthetic.
“Please sit.”
Valora took a look around and had a seat.
“What’s this about, Governor? Why are you pushing your guards back. What’s this important thing you’ve gotta tell me?”
“...You’re in grave danger, Valora.”
Valora chuckled, in disbelief.
“It’s too damn early for this.”
She shook it off but then realized it was not a joke.
“What’s the threat this time?”
“All Chimeras and Lybankind are in peril.” He said, bluntly.
Valora’s eyes widened.
“Oh?”
She dismissed him, in resentment. “What else is new.”
Belzon's face tightened with a mix of frustration and concern, his hands clasped tightly together as he met Valora's skeptical gaze. He understood the captain's jaded response, the weariness that came with a life of constant threats and challenges. But this time, the danger felt different, more insidious.
"No, Valora, listen to me," he urged, his voice filled with urgency. "This threat is unlike anything we have faced before. It's not just a fleeting danger but a growing darkness that threatens to consume us all."
Valora's eyes narrowed, a glimmer of curiosity shining through her hardened exterior. She leaned forward, her gaze fixed on Belzon, waiting for him to continue.
"I have seen them with my own eyes." he confessed, his voice laced with a mixture of fear and determination. "Forces at work, seeking to eradicate those they deem lesser races or abominations. They see it as a threat, a corruption that must be eliminated."
The room fell silent, the weight of Belzon's words hanging in the air. Valora's fingers tapped rhythmically against her knee, her mind processing the information. She had always been aware of the dangers she faced as a Chimera, a being of mixed bloodlines. But the gravity of the situation seemed to intensify with each passing moment.
"Is this your evil coven?" Valora asked, scoffing, her voice filled with a mix of defiance and concern. "I told you Grazzli. My men and I have scoured the city in and out. There is no evil society plotting in this city."
“No, Valora. Their existence was never in question. I told you that I was aware of this society… but it is confirmed what they have been up to.”
Belzon's eyes met hers, the weight of his knowledge evident in his gaze. "Power, control, and the preservation and furthering of their own twisted ideals," he replied, his voice tinged with a touch of bitterness.
"My brother Galzon is to soon be appointed governor of the Arlian province. He and his party seek to maintain a strict hierarchy, to extinguish any threat to their reign. It is no secret, but now it is confirmed. I have watched them murder a… len…”
His eyes stared off into the distance as he remembered the foul beast that lied before them, after Galzon had flashed the magic mirror on the lyban sacrifice.
“... this… this very night. They believe that by eliminating all Chimeras, they can solidify their dominance over the Lyban race. And as you know… Ven given to prestige and power as much as my brothers will always isolate and eliminate obstacles on their path to… more.”
Belzon shook his head with a seemingly heavy heart.
Valora's jaw clenched, her fists tightening at her sides. The room seemed to shrink around her as the reality of the danger seeped into her being. She had fought against discrimination and persecution her entire life.
"I find your… accusations of the Governor-elect peculiar. But rest assured, if what you say is true. They won't succeed. Nor will anyone else. Not on my watch." Valora declared, her voice steady and unwavering. "We have faced adversity before, and we will face it again. I will not let fear dictate our actions."
“Have you ever killed a Venganzi?” Belzon asked, frankly.
“...No. But I will do whatever I have to, to uphold my oath.” Said Valora. “I believe in this empire.”
Belzon nodded, a mixture of pride and concern evident in his expression. "That is why I called upon you, Valora," he said, his voice tinged with gratitude. "I know we share the same dreams for this continent. And you are a symbol of strength and resilience to those dreams. You and my daughter, Síbela. Gifted and unmatched in your skills… and your beauty. You represent all that could be. I trust that you will lead Fiora with courage and protect them from this looming threat."
Valora rose from her seat, her gaze fixed on the horizon beyond the den's window. The Flamestar had risen higher in the sky, casting its golden light upon the land. She took a deep breath, her shoulders squaring up as a newfound energy surged through her veins.
"You need not worry, Governor. This empire is in safe hands, so long as I am at the helm of it’s legions." Valora replied, her voice filled with determination. "All citizens, Lybans, Venganzi, or Chimeras will be safe under my watch. That is why Sir Szartán appointed me."
Belzon's face softened, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and concern. "Yes, Valora," he said, his voice filled with unwavering belief. "You are mighty indeed."
Valora nodded, her gaze flickering with a newfound fire.
“But it’s not enough.” He said, somberly.
“Even you, do not have the power to overcome the tide of darkness that is about to sweep over this world. It will make those plague years look like Ihitan twilight.”
Valora blinked… she was starting… to believe him.
“Alright, Governor. Enough. I need specifics. What are you telling me. Who do I need to bring in for questioning? Where should I be looking?”
“There’s no time for that.” Said Belzon. “You must leave. At once. Grab only the essentials. You must flee!"
Valora laughed.
“You have got to be kidding me.”
She looked at him, grinning, but upset.
“He will destroy me. I am certain, Valora.”
Belzon paused and sighed.
“But… I’ve made my peace with my strange Venganzi life...” He said, rolling off in a melancholy voice.
Valora shook her head as if he was speaking nonsense.
“...Have a good day, Governor. I suggest you get some rest. I think you may have had a little too much to drink last night. You are perhaps the second most powerful person in this empire. Your brother is not coming to kill you. A newly minted Governor would be too obvious of an assailant.”
She began to march off before suddenly, the gate barred itself… seemingly on it’s own, enchanted.
“Valora. Please!” Belzon pleaded firmly, raising his voice.
Belzon's voice cracked with desperation as he called out to Valora, his eyes filled with a mix of anguish and pleading. He grabbed her hand. "Valora, I beg you, please listen to me," he implored, his voice laced with a vulnerability that was rare to witness. "I understand your skepticism, but I cannot stress enough the gravity of this situation. My daughter's life hangs in the balance as well, and I fear that without your protection, she may not survive."
Valora halted in her tracks, her body tense with conflicting emotions. She turned to face Belzon, her eyes narrowed as she regarded him with a mix of frustration and sympathy. "Governor, I admire your… concern for me, and determination to protect your kin, but I cannot pledge myself to a cause that I do not fully understand," she stated firmly, her voice tinged with regret. "I have dedicated my life to upholding justice and defending the innocent, keeping my promise to Sir Szartán. I cannot blindly follow you or anyone else but the Venrex into the unknown."
Belzon's shoulders slumped, a heavy sigh escaping his lips. He understood Valora's reluctance, her desire for concrete information and a clear plan of action. But time was running out, and the darkness loomed ever closer. He rose to his feet and pulled her in, embracing her. For a moment she resisted… but she did ease into his arms.
"Valora, I wish I could provide you with all the answers you seek," he said, whispering into her ear, his voice filled with a mix of frustration and sorrow. "I will soon tell you everything… and if fate allows… I will meet you wherever I send you… But this threat... it is cunning, elusive. It strikes from the shadows, leaving no trace of its existence until it's too late… I can’t stand the thought of… losing you both.”
Valora's gaze softened as she looked into his eyes, a flicker of empathy crossing her features. She could sense the desperation in Belzon's voice, the love and concern he held for his daughter, and the love she thought… he had once felt for her. Yet, she remained resolute in her decision.
“You know we can never be, Bel.” Said Valora, pushing him away. “We’ve been through all of that.”
“But what if we could. This… could be the path.” Belzon said.
She stepped backwards, ripped herself from his arms, and shook off her feelings, returning to a business-only voice. She thought about it momentarily, but then became resolute once again.
"Can you hear yourself? Do you realize how absurd this is? I cannot abandon my post, Governor," she replied, her voice filled with determination. "I will continue to protect and serve the people of this empire to the best of my abilities. But I cannot undertake this mission without more information, without a clear understanding of the dangers we face."
“You will be disposed of, Valora. Galzon will convince the Venrex to do terrible things.”
Valora blinked.
“They will take you. It will not be difficult. And not only that.”
She was balling up a fist.
“They will be quick to sacrifice you. Consume your entire body after they’ve ravished it. Destroy you in flame and shadow. I beg you! They will use your unique and majestic soul to empower themselves and the wraiths of Umbraneth.”
Belzon's face contorted with a mix of anguish and resignation. His gaze fell to the floor, his voice barely a whisper. "I... I understand, Valora," he murmured, his tone heavy with disappointment. "I understand you find it ridiculous. I understand it seems too much, but everything I tell you is TRUE! Despite how… outlandish it sounds. I have seen these things with mine own eyes, Valora!”
He became quiet once again.
“I also know I cannot force you to do something against your will. But know this... You, my daughter, and the fate of all Chimeras and countless others hang in the balance. I pray that you reconsider, for their sake."
Valora's resolve wavered for a moment as she watched Belzon, his shoulders hunched, his expression filled with a profound sorrow. She knew the weight of his words, the immense responsibility he bore as a father and as the governor of this land. But she also knew the weight of her own duty, the oaths she had sworn to uphold.
"I am truly sorry, Governor," Valora said softly, her voice tinged with regret. "I cannot pledge myself to protect your daughter at the cost of forsaking my duty to the empire. I will do everything in my power to ensure the safety of every citizen, but I cannot embark on this path with you."
With a heavy heart, Valora turned away from Belzon and began to walk away. The gate, as if guided by an unseen force, swung open before her, allowing her passage. She cast one final glance over her shoulder, her eyes meeting Belzon's filled with a mix of sympathy and determination.
“I will, however, keep this strange and peculiar conversation to myself.”
Belzon lurched over, in defeat.
"May fate be kind to us all, Governor," Valora said, her voice filled with a solemn resolve, making for the gate.
"The truth is… we always face some impending darkness every day. We will meet it with the same reason we have now. I’m… not saying I don’t believe you. I’m saying… we will always be prepared, so you needn’t worry about this. No one will harm you or your daughter."
She saluted him, then marched off, leaving him hunched over in his seat. She lifted the bar off the door and left the estate, beckoning the guards back to the door.
Belzon… wept.
“You are not prepared, Valora… we... are not prepared.” He said, under his breath.