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Lost Concord
Chapter Fourteen: Rancorous Suns

Chapter Fourteen: Rancorous Suns

“I am often told that my path of righteousness is naive, that in the long war it will only hurt me. I know that, it is true, but tell me this Warborn. When the world is full of hate, when only war and misery is open to us, is it not our duty to show kindness and attempt to rebuild what we destroy? I believe that is the way of the pious, the way of the holy man. My people may be outcasts, but we are not heartless.”

- Final sane words of Lord Centerious days before his transformation into a Revenant.

“They aren’t ready for this, they are sheltered and oblivious…” Carleon cautioned as he shifted his stance alongside his warhammer. The length of the weapon was held firmly by his hands, as he allowed the head to rest on the floor, whilst his gaze looked to the summoned to their left. A hint of distaste and bitterness crossed his expression, as he saw that the summoned for the most part were excited. Each one speaking to their friends and groups, and even through the cacophony of chattering, he could make out words of joy and sheer anticipation.

“I just hope they don't shoot us with spells, considering how hectic it is in real battle.” Much in contrast to his own thoughts, Jio said a light jest. His own words laced with a mocking yet equally joyful tone, as he shifted his own stance, loosening his previously guarded one with a sigh. To which Carleon could only reply with a disapproving shake of his head. For Jio couldn’t care less about the other summoned, as long as they did not hamper their own survival and activities. Even he felt excited about the prospect of going to the Fae Lands.

“Just imagine it Carleon, a scene of battle like what Benedict described in the past, a fight for our life. Ruined by our allies hitting us with a stray spell. It’s a funny thought.”

“Reality is less funny Jio, it wouldn’t bode well for either side if that happened.” Carleon warned, one hand letting go of his hammer to idly scratch his forehead. “I don't want to die like that, neither do you.”

“None of you will die.” Cut in a sudden voice, firm like a blizzard yet equally sonorous and beautifully effeminate. In an instant they knew who it was, and Carleon by instinct gave a respectful bow which Jio hastily mimicked. It was Aniara, who in their heated but whispered conversation had walked to their side. This sudden appearance of hers had baffled Jio, who as he had hastily mimicked the bow of Carleon, nearly drew his sword in shock.

“I will not allow it.” There was a thin smile on her pale expression, as with one hand she offered the helm she had been holding on to for all this time. It was to Jio who she offered it to, and the boy could not help but widen his eyes in clear recognition. Not a minute too soon, his hands shakily plucked it up from both sides, holding it up so he may stare at the eyeless and murky sockets of the skeletal helm he now held. The helm which was supposed to belong to his friend.

“What do you mean?” Carleon asked without even looking to her, his own gaze levelled clearly to the skull helm that Jio was staring at. Though unlike his friend, he looked to the forehead of the helm, and there he saw the clear engraving of the Templar Cross. It was colored a dull red, noticeable due to the near pitch-black color of the metal used to wrought it in shape.

“Spare me your consideration to my honor, I believe you know why I say this.” Now with her voice growing far colder than usual, sounding with venom and rising irritation, Carleon raised his head to look to Aniara. Her expression was as cools always, never betraying a single emotion upon the pale face of hers. Yet her eyes, to which Carleon assumed could even express emotion, showed her rising fury.

“I do not know what you mean…” Unable to hold his gaze, Carleon looked away with his thoughts now in disarray. The calm he tried to hold was shattered by this, as Jio who now looked up offered the death mask to him, which he gladly took with one shaky hand. ‘Shit… Shit… Shit…’ He idly cursed within his mind, as with the death mask of his friend, he chose to direct his attention to it closely. As if it would give him the excuse to stop Aniara from speaking to him.

It was however, a hopeful delusion that rewarded him with a firm grip on his armored wrist. From there he felt it, the metal slowly turning cold with his own flesh beneath feeling the rapid drop in temperature. It was frost so cold, that it felt like his wrist was burning. Yet he grit his teeth, as Aniara who now was near the two spoke, whilst Jio experienced the same thing. From how close she was, it looked as if she was whispering to them.

“Ignorance damns progress.” She says, parroting the very phrase Benedict had said to her a month before this very day. They shivered at it, as it brought the memories of that day surging back. Though the memories were only enhanced, as she began to whisper and dictate those very events to their ears. Forcing them to relive those days through some strange means.

“Ignorance damns progress, can you not hear us out?!” He tells me as his armored hands slam itself upon my wooden desk. It shook the inkwell on my table, nearly spilling its contents upon the report I was to make to my liege. From behind him, came you two. Moving with due haste, with one lagging back to close the door, before joining the other to restrain your friend.

“I shall hear you out.” I say, a frown upon my lips as the light of the moon shone down upon us through the open windows behind me. I look down, but not before seeing a look of relief within Benedict’s eyes, as you two merely watch in silence. This was his plan, not yours, but you willing came along, or initially. He had lost to Damien a day ago, the dishonor brought upon it has been tearing at his heart and mind, as he and many of the summoned have a simplistic pride.

It is not wrong, I understand it completely. That is truth, and you know it.

As I pick up my quill and dab its pointed tip to the inkwell, Benedict speaks. Not before having to whisper a few choice words to you two, assuring you that this will work, and that the blame will only be on him. This elicits a soft smile from me, for it is amusing to see such boys try to strengthen their hearts and resolve.

“We want out of this place. We want to get out of Isalabi’s walls and into the greater land beyond this city.” He says this with a desperation unlike that of a man wishing redemption. His mind is clouded by what he had experienced, though not so much as the rage within him. He has tried to ask the same thing before, yet I denied hearing him out, for it is useless and fruitless. Except for that moment.

“What will you hope to achieve outside?” Without willing it, I could not help but laugh as I asked that. I knew what he wanted, what you three wanted. It was adventure, it was a chance to see the world for what it was, and to become your own man.

“Experience!” He reasoned, his body tensing as he straightened his posture. This I know as the rattle of chains ring out thanks to the acoustics of my office. “Aniara, I know we are children here, I know that I’ve recently been defeated by Damien. Surely however, you’re not blind to the fact that what we learn from instructors is… Not the same thing as the real deal.”

He is right, so I nod in response, not allowing him to hear me speak as his explanation was not yet satisfactory to me. It wasn’t worth it to allow you three to go outside, it was risky and foolish. He needed more than that to convince me. So he continued speaking, his voice bearing much desperation as it did fury. Just like a child.

“There’s little we can learn here. I know that’s foolish of me to say, considering you yourself tutor us in the art of battle, and defeating the various creatures the Lonesome Frost has to offer. But I am not referring to you Aniara, surely you know that the other summoned are getting support from other nobility. Especially with the Heralds of their chosen Gods clearly bolstering their capabilities.

We do not have the luxury and blessings the other summoned have. We’re the runts of the litter, with little value in us that it’s a surprise King Asairos has not forced us to take Gods just to fit in. For that I am grateful to him, rest assured that I harbor no illwill towards him. Though this is why I am adamant in getting out of these walls Aniara, for if we cannot even be graced with a sliver of the blessings the Gods have given to their chosen, then allow us to earn it.”

I expected a more flawed reasoning, considering Benedict was overtaken by much emotion as he spoke. It is so clearly heard within his voice, just like an open book for me to discern. Yet his reasoning was sound, though still lacking, yet curiously thrilling in its own right. One that echoes loudly within my veins as a Sahdun.

“How shall you earn those blessings?” I ask with an unintentionally cold tone, as I pause the writing of my report. Letting only the rattling of chains ring out, for Benedict moved as he talked, unable to stand still as he gave his explanation. “You are Godless as you’ve said. How can you earn the blessings that the summoned have, when you lack their enhanced skills and their potential?”

My words were seemed to be a sword, reaching out and cleaving the resolve of your friend unto twain. But I was wrong, it made him grin, it made him much more manic in his posture and words. For he motioned with one armored hand to his own bosom, tapping then at the chestplate that obscured whatever apparel he wore beneath it.

“In my world, humanity waged war without magic. We persevered and found ways to slaughter one another through will and ingenuity alone. We waged war that would not make sense without magic, and should have not been done without the aid it gives. Yet we did so for we wanted it. We defied the laws of our world to slaughter and kill, progress was geared towards it despite many denying such a thing!

We killed hundreds, thousands and then millions in the name of our religions, country and dogma! There was a war waged solely through swords and will, named the Hundred Year War! Then there were the wars that captured our entire world! Occurring twice with much more bloodshed by each iteration!

We are the product of that world Aniara, we can claim such blessings through our will alone! We will struggle for it, we will bleed for it, but in the end we will grow through adversity. Because we do not wish to be shackled here, suckling upon the milk of false expectations and venomous words of our ‘allies’.

What we wish is for misery, we seek it because through it we will grow. If we experience it truly, then we may know what to expect and adapt accordingly. We’ll become stronger because of it! Like a sword tempered in the fires of a forge. We ourselves must experience the same with the harsh realities of this new world.”

His argument had much fire in it, yet it relied on knowing your world. I knew little of it, for you three were reclusive and careful in what you said. Yet I felt my heart beat furiously as he explained. For a race without magic to wage such a life of bloodshed, was awe inspiring in many ways than one. It’d shame me if it didn’t inspire such a thing within me. For his words rang true, for it reminded me the way of the Sahdun.

So with a grin of my own, I said that words that allowed you to escape the stifling walls of this city. The words you swore an oath to.

“I understand.” I began, that grin of mine never leaving my face that perturbed you two, and even Benedict. “I hear you clearly, and I am convinced.”

Elation was seen clearly on his face the moment I uttered those words of approval. Though I was not done, with my approval you would have been wise to assume that it came at a cost. Which you three readily accepted.

“I shall instruct my Royal Guards and the Guards of the city, to allow you passage outside. Though this comes with a condition.”

“What is it?” I heard him ask, excited and his anticipation clear on the edge of his voice. It was so pleasing to my ears truly, it reminded me much of the culture of my own people. “Any condition is worth it if we are allowed to get out of this place.”

“First, you must swore this with your honor and freedom on the line. That in this leniency of mine, you shall never tell my liege of this very event. That you three found a way to elude my guards, that in your rather candid desire of freedom, you escaped and left this place.

Second, no matter what you shall not die. This you must see through no matter what, for I shall not allow the hopes of my world die because of this consideration. In addition to that, you will fulfill your duties as I see fit, for the betterment of this world and most of all… Of the Ivory Concord.

Lastly, commit no crime. It will stain my honor should you do this, and I will personally see to it that you three will find absolution in any means necessary.

Should either of these three are broken, you three are bound to my beck and call. This cannot be negotiated, nor can be removed. This is my conditions to you Godless.

Do you accept?”

A wise man would have needed a minute or an hour to ponder upon the conditions I gave. Yet in is impatience, fury and excitement… He did not ponder, instead, he answered with a loud malign laughter. Bitterness no longer coloring his tone, instead clear apparent joy. One hand reached out to me, and I took it with a natural flourish.

The cold metal upon my bare hand was of no discomfort, it felt warm instead to me as I gave a gentle smile to him. He was a fool, but a fool after my own heart it seems. One that you cannot help but adore, for their simplicty shined like a virtue.

“It is a deal.” He says so firmly, without even asking for the thoughts of you two. Maybe you have had pondered upon it before barging into my room? Maybe you followed because you have changed his mind regardless? Through this, your fates have been sealed, our honor bound together forever more till I let it go.

And yet… Here we are.

Silence came to them as they did not know how to reply. Aniara’s grip upon their wrist tightened, as they felt their entire arm begin to slowly freeze more and be subjected to frostbite. Through this It was clear that she was displeased, that their continued silence only served further irritated her. Though before they could reply, she released their wrists. The chilling and painful cold that was threatening to freeze their very arms, faded so abruptly that there was no hint of it even existing before, aside from the very pain that their minds remember.

“What do you want?” It was Jio that soon broke the encompassing silence, one hand reached out to held the wrist that Aniara grabbed. Upon his expression one could discern clear distaste and pain, twisting his young features into a near-scowl. Yet his eyes expressed clear palpable fear, that drew a frown from Aniara.

“Your cooperation.” She starts, her frown disappearing as she motioned one hand towards the other summoned. “I demand that you two stay within the walls or reaches of this city, for my liege Asairos and the Winter King will personally drew up the coming plans for the march to the Fae Lands.”

“But we can't stay…” Carleon interjected his own expression bearing pain and uncertainty, which bled into his very words. “Forgive us, but we have no place among the Blessed.”

“You do.” Aniara says flatly, her gaze moving to the weapons they held, yet lingering to what was Benedict’s own blade. “You say that they are unprepared, not ready for the greater world beyond. In a way you are correct, which makes you two necessary.”

“How?” Carleon murmured as he turned his gaze to look to the other summoned. There he noticed a few were staring at where they stood, seemingly trying to discreetly listen, but found it to be futile. As the three whispered in their conversation.

“Do not be daft, your time outside of the walls despite it being relatively short. Has tempered you to the proper path, your stance, posture and look indicates that you’ve escaped death more than once. Your presence is needed due to that, to show the Blessed that experience matters above all.

If it were your friend, he would stay just to spite those he loathes. If you’re confident that Benedict is still alive, then fulfill our deal for the time being. His blade and his death mask is upon you now, honor him through the fulfillment of what he had agreed to.”

“We have something to do outside of these walls.” Despite all that however, Carleon spoke resolute. His brown eyes looking to Aniara’s and showing his defiance. Defiance which in its own way, was breaking the very agreement they had agreed to.

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“It can wait.” She intoned, now her words were akin to a weight upon their shoulders. Without realizing it herself, she had raised her own voice, just enough to draw the attention of the other summoned. Ths mattered little however, as the tension between the two sides were seemingly rising.

One side wished little to do with the following proceedings, the other insisted for the former to stay and delay their plans. None of which desired to budge on the issue, even when their honor was on the very line. This was clearly a situation that words could not so easily solve, yet a sudden voice cut in. Loud, unapologetic and seemingly mocking in its inflections.

“If they are so desperate to get out of Isalabi, even when winter is coming. Then let them! Let them die! It’s clear they have a deathwish! Just like their foolish friend.”

As one might expected, it was Jasmine. Appearing almost near Aniara, in a manner so unexpected that Jio drew his sword by instinct. Soon however as the blade came out of its sheath, his grip upon its handle tightened in clear rising irritation.

“What’d ya say?!” He barked harshly his eyes squinting as he glared towards Jasmine. Despite this however, Jasmine only chuckled mockingly as she shrugged her shoulders. Aniara made no move to speak, strangely remaining silent as she observed.

“I said what I said you deaf dolt. You look like some second-grade rogue! I’m impressed you’re even still alive, I half expected for you to be dead just like that criminal.”

“Criminal?!” In indignation Jio stepped forward, brandishing his blade to the side as he shifted his posture. “You take that back you bitch!”

“Why should I? It’s the truth! He was a criminal, a coward and one that shames us who are meant to save this world!” She says confidently, nearly spurring Jio on to strike if it weren't for the fact someone else did so first. Which came in the form of a sudden swing from a warhammer that was heading towards Jasmine, with a speed and momentum that shouldn’t have easily gone unnoticed. Yet it did, and the heavy metal of the hammer headed for her head in a clear arc.

Yet before it had hit, a young voice screamed out to the heavens, accompanied by an almost blinding barrier forming around Jasmine quickly in response. “Protection!” The voice had screamed, ringing clearly moments before the hammer’s head reached Jasmine. It coalesced into that very blinding barrier, circular in nature and dome-like, forming itself around Jasmine to protect her from Carleon’s strike.

“Pardon?” His voice could be heard asking as the head of his hammer struck the magical barrier. One might have expected the sound of hammer hitting something to ring out first, yet it was not the first one to boom out. It was the death mask of Benedict which hit the tiled floor, ringing out in an unnatural chorus that drew the attention of all the people within the hall. Only to be joined by the sound of metal hitting metal, letting out a noise not unlike that of a tolling bell.

“Can you repeat what you have just said?” Mere seconds after the initial strike, Carleon was already drawing back his hammer to strike again. His grip upon the shaft of his weapon was tight and sure, his expression mimicking it by showing only a cold rage. Which in his eyes, was shown to be an almost furious stare.

Already the others were on the move. Yet it was not fast enough as Carleon’s next strike came and resounded clearly, thunderously clashing against the magical shield. Against all the expectations of the people within the hall, the magical shield faltered, cracking under the sheer force it was subjected to. Then promptly shattering into a cascade of beautiful magical shards. All of which made no audible sound, and instead it was the furious rattling of chains that rang so clearly.

Beneath the rain of magical shards, Jasmine stared wide eyed and in disbelief. Her features expressed clear shock, as her pale blue eyes looked to Carleon. She had not expected for him to react this way, she expected for it to be Jio, the one who was clearly brash and so clear with his emotions. It should have not been Carleon, who was stoic and understanding, yet it was him. It was he who acted so quickly, wielding his hammer with deadly ease that she did not have time to register an attempt to dodge or defend herself.

All around here was a flurry of action. Carleon staring at her in spite as he drew his hammer once more to strike her, his tensing movements betraying his utter intent at killing her. Whilst directly to their right Damien and Erica could be seen pushing through the crowd, who were petrified in awe by the sight. Damien himself was in a hurry, his eyes turning gold as he drew his blade from its scabbard. Erica on the other hand was holding what could be described as a wand, using it as she whispered clear words of magical power.

Though Aniara who was nearest did nothing. She did not seem intent at intervening at all as she observed, the same could be said for many of the Sahdun within the hall itself. With the Winter King himself looking in clear intent, making Asairos look in astonishment as the Royal Guards moved to intercept Carleon’s strike. Yet still it did not seem enough, Carleon’s attack was faster than it should have been.

When all seemed to point at a Blessed’s death, a surprise came in the form of Jio’s intervention. He had no hope of stopping the warhammer strike, for it was a foolish thing to even stop with a mere blade alone. Still he did try, and opted for an alternative in the way of using the blunt side of his blade, and striking downwards just when Carleon made his move.

In a desperate gamble, Jio had opted to hit the two chains that connected the hammer to Carleon’s dominant arm. In a show of strength and quick thinking, he had in turn managed to interfere with the course of the warhammer. Allowing Jasmine to be missed by mere inches as the hammer struck nothing but air. There was a moment of silence as the two looked at each other’s eyes, each one knew what they did was in its own way necessary.

-

It happened far too quickly for anyone to have reasonably expected, yet it also ended far faster than one might have assumed given the circumstance. With Jio’s intervention Carleon drew back his warhammer, only to be beset by a sudden spell that summoned vines that constricted his form. He was not worried about this, as his face was that a mask of seething fury, which only intensified when Damien moved to point his blade towards Carleon.

“How dare you!” Damien yelled in righteous fury, his eyes staring daggers at Carleon’s form who only returned it with a dismissive glare. “You would strike a fellow summoned?! Are you Godless this bloodthirsty?!”

It was clear that Damien was overwhelmed by emotion, as his own friend and party member was nearly killed. None could blame him for what he felt, yet in part it was Jasmine’s fault as she had incited Carleon’s reaction. Though Carleon merely frowned, shrugging his shoulders as he instead turned to look to Aniara. Giving her one simple nod, before his attention turned back to Damien.

“Your friend.” He began, his word rolling out in obvious anger as he motioned towards Jasmine.”Insulted my best friend. If you think I will let the fact that we are Godless to be an excuse for her to insult him, then Damien, I will have to ask forgiveness because next time… Jio here won't be enough to stop me. I’ll see to it that she knows how to hold back her tongue.”

“Carl!” Jio quickly butted in, moving forward and holding his friend’s shoulder rather firmly. “Calm down, there’s no need for this. We still have something we need to do!”

Jio reasoned with surprising worry as his previous anger was doused cool by the situation. It was perturbing to see the two express themselves differently, which Damien did not take well as he clicked his tongue. He was being ignored by them once more, he knew very well that they disliked him, but he never expected that one of them would go this far in anger.

The situation itself was growing tense and awkward, more so than before as the Royal Guards surrounded Carleon with their weapons at the ready. It was clear that they did not intend to let him so easily escape, not when he had just attempted to kill one of the summoned. But there was one thing that clashed with the tense atmosphere. It was the sound of clapping, resonating out from armored hands hitting one another.

The source of it was the Winter King himself, whose gaze was firmly fixed upon Carleon himself. For what seemed to be a minute, the clapping continued until the other Sahdun soon joined in, with Uron himself clapping rather excitedly, a goofy grin plastered on his place. All of them save for the Winter King thought of the scene they had seen, as something grandiose. For to them what they had seen was not Carleon attempting to murder a precious summoned, but a friend that would not allow any venomous words to tarnish the honor and memory of his friend.

As for the Winter King himself, he only stopped clapping once the attention of everyone was on to him. Asairos who sat on his throne looked wide eyed, his mind in a total fritz as what he had witnessed was too bizarre to stomach. He had read the reports on the Godless, their actions and their growth throughout their days outside of the city. He knew, as much as one could through secondhand information, that Carleon was not this kind of individual.

He was not that kind of individual to just suddenly attack, to strike with cold hate with the intent of killing so casually. Yet he did, and the Winter King’s clapping made his mind go blank. For it meant this ancient elf was approving of what Carleon did, and what happened next only confirmed that very assumption.

“Donem sat tu veshe.” The native tongue of the Sahdun was spoken with great mirth in the Winter King’s voice, as despite his unnatural tone he expressed great joy. That chilling sound that escaped his cage-like helm of his sending tremors down everyone else’s skin.

“Donem sat tu, Vehjan Mikal.” Carleon replied after a moment of silence, respectfully lowering his head in a sign of obeisance. His own pronunciation of the Sahdun’s tongue was rough, sluggish and boorish compared to the well practice pronunciation of the Winter King. Yet the ancient Sahdun did not take offense, instead he turned to Asairos, leaving much of the summoned and the Godless quite baffled.

“Desha, I have been wrong in my assumptions.” He says to Asairos, who could only raise his brows in surprise. “It seems my disapproval of all the summoned is unwarranted, some of them deserve respect. They posses donem, that is enough for me. So desha, I was too hasty in my thoughts back then.”

“There’s no need for this.” Asairo says, eyes narrowing in slight curiosity as Leila watched silently. Taking everything in as her father continued. “Will we have your full support then against this coming dark?” Asairos asked this almost in jest, to which the Winter King replied with a short laugh.

“Donem sat tu, we will not break the ancient oaths of this Ivory Concord. Though, I wish for you two let that boy receive no punishment.” With what can only be a smirk hidden behind the bars of his helm, the Winter King turned to regard Carleon once more.

“I see no reason to punish him, as he did not truly harm Jasmine.” Asairos says, though his words bearing uncertainty. For Damien looked in utter shock, as with all others aside from the gathered Sahdun. Quickly after regaining his bearings, he spoke out, protesting against such a thing.

“But my King! This Godless nearly killed Jasmine! He did so unprovoked, if it weren't for Erica’s quick thinking she’d have died on the first blow! We cannot do such treacherous things to one another, not when you’ve clearly said the Creeping Dark is active within the Fae Lands!”

Though it was the Winter King that replied first with mocking boisterous laughter. He found what Damien said to be amusing, as he motioned towards the other summoned with one hand.

“What that Godless did was right, your comrade not only insulted the memory of his dearest friend, but spat upon his honor. His reaction was well warranted, his rage singing a hymn of righteousness through his weapon. With two mere blows he fell a magical spell, which shouldn’t have been possible given his lack of a God.

Yet look, I stood witnessed with my own people, to the strength of his honor and will. It is a humbling thought that not only have I seen such a pure rage, but also hear the tongue of my people spoken and understood by one not from our realm.”

“What he did was dishonorable!” Damien reasoned, to which the Winter King merely scoffed at.

“It is only honorable for one to defend their friend’s honor no matter the circumstance. You who is the blessed champion of Aurolos is but a blind child, your thoughts of honor is far dimmer than what I’ve expected.

Plus, it was your comrade that tried to incite such a reaction from them. Her words were mocking them, it is not them that must repent and be punished, it must be your friend.”

“No! That’s unreasonable! She did nothing of that sort!” Damien says heatedly, to which the Winter King merely reacted with a flick of his hand. Which soon caused the very vines that constricted Carleon to freeze over and shatter.

“Ask her yourself Champion. For all I care, it is them that holds honor.” The Winter King says firmly, with him moving his attention back to Carleon who gave a reluctant bow towards him. This brings out an unseen smile from him, as he motioned for the godless to go, as it was clear that they did not wish to stay within this room.

“Go in honor Godless. “ He says, to which the two godless did so, quickly turning around with Carleon moving hastily. Whilst Jio himself lingered, looking back to Jasmine who stood seemingly petrified and in shock, as Erica was trying to gently goad her comrade out of her shock.

“Jasmine, what you saw wasn’t real, it wasn’t real!” He could hear her say, as the smaller and younger girl began to use her wand to use what healing spells she knew. Though he couldn't stay any longer as Carleon moved pass Aniara, who only gave a nod of acknowledgement. But once he passed by her, she whispered clearly for a moment, which reached his ears effortlessly.

“Report to my office tomorrow.” Was what she said, as she moved to disperse her Royal Guards, right before motioning for one to retrieve one of the healers to tend to Jasmine herself.

-

With no one able to hear it, a laugh came as the Godless walked out of the hall. Right behind them a thing of nightmarish quality followed, a being that could only be described as the embodiment of every debased ideals, fears and monstrous lust for knowledge followed them. It was vaguely humanoid, its upper portions resembling a dessicated human covered in an ancient black cloak, whilst its lower half was nothing more than a mass of undulating ichor, tentacles and screaming faces that propelled it forward.

With its own dessicated face bearing a ghoulish grin, with what should be hollowed eye sockets bearing eyes that held strange twin-merged irises that look in want. Matching the fact that upon its hands it held a strange grimoire and a thurible that swayed, holding a mass of eyes that looked around in clear terror. No one else could see it, no one else could hear it, all except for those that held the book it resided. Yet, he had revealed itself to another, to one known as Jasmine.

It did this when its wielder felt great anger, a cold anger like none other, that lured it out from its usual blabbering of information to aid its wielder. Coming out of the book itself and revealing itself to that very girl, who could do nothing but stare in shock. That very look was delectable, so strange that it wanted to see its face squashed underneath, so it gave its wielder a gentle push. A small stripping of inhibition, and it was all that was needed to shatter such feeble magic that tried to protect Jasmine from its wielder.

Though alas, another of its wielders stopped the act. Stopping Carleon from killing that girl, it could have felt sadness, anger or any other emotion. But it didn’t, for as soon as the situation ended it got to speak again. To whisper to the ears of its wielder, telling him of the information that needed to be known, for the Winter King spoke.

Then it was happy, content to follow, content to aid these hollow humans that served as little more than beacons to his disparate kind. For they were denying fate, so desperately trying to fight against it, that it could not help but wish to help, to lust to aid them for its own amusement.

For there was only bloodshed before them. A life full of it that it’d prove so pleasant, that it did not mind letting itself be used for whatever notions of ‘honor’ or ‘morality’ that its wielders clung to. It didn't matter, not to it, for it only wanted amusement. Which these two could offer in full, once they continue struggle against fate itself.

So it grinned more, speaking and speaking to Carleon, who briskly walk, trying to ignore its whisperings. Which was impossible.

“The Sahdun value honor above all in many of their traditions, it is the hallmark of their kind, their primary vir….”