Eligor
Dusk of Life, Marlight, Hall of Decisions
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It took a good long while for everyone to leave the hall. Small groups of council members formed, discussing the matter addressed in the meeting in hushed voices until the guards kindly requested them to leave. Eligor had gathered up his papers and was about to leave the room as well when he was approached by Yuna.
“Can you spare a minute, Eligor dear?” She asked with an informal tone. Those favoured by Yuna were often subject to a more informal approach, something that annoyed some elders of the council while it was applauded by others. She said it allowed her greater success in cooperating with those she deemed trustworthy, and he was inclined to believe her. Despite her age, she was a very creative and insightful person, traits that let her hold on to her title as chief of the Yrus for more than two decades. So he knew it was her way of breaking the ice and being diplomatic. Despite that though, it still brought a smile to his face, albeit be it a tired one.
“Of course, miss Yuna. I was meaning to seek you out myself, as I think thanks are certainly in order. Without your interference and assistance, I don’t think I’d be able to calm the council down by myself.”
The old woman waved his thanks away with a smile, shaking her head.
“Oh, come on, Eligor. You know that’s part of the calling. Besides, the young ones were getting too riled up and heated. I will do them good to calm down a bit and think about the situation for once instead of jumping to conclusions.”
“You know, not all members of the younger council are like that.”
“Nonsense. They are young. They have passion. And that’s a good thing. Passion is needed to get us old folk into gear, after all. But too much of anything is bad. Let them cool down, so they can use that passion for something productive instead.” The old lady said vehemently. She turned her head, watching some loitering young councilmembers with a gaze that said more than a thousand words.
He couldn’t help but chuckle at her words and demeanour.
“Ha. I can surely agree with that sentiment. I just wish I had your…..knack to put it into words that way.”
Yuna turned her head back to him and huffed.
“You’re just too diplomatic and polite for your own good, Eligor. At times, you just need to drop the façade and just tell them straight what needs to be told. You need… to… work...”
She rhythmically tapped him on the chest with every word.
“... on… your… appearance. And not in the physical sense. You know what I mean, you old coot. I told you this a thousand times. But you just refuse to put your mind to it.”
“My apologies, Chief Yuna, I’d -...”
Yuna raised her walking stick and tapped it hard onto the tiles to cut him off. He couldn’t do anything but blink surprisedly.
“WRONG!” The old Yrus proclaimed. Eligar recoiled, causing him to step back.
“Drop the pleasantries. Just Yuna. No apologies. Is that clear?”
“Well, I-…”
“Is… that… clear?” Her voice was harsh, although the little smile on her face told him she was certainly enjoying this.
He took another step back, raising a hand in surrender.
“Yes, Ch-… Yuna.”
The old woman nodded, apparently satisfied. At least for now. How could such an old woman have so much spirit left? He’d hope he’d be so spry in his old days.
“That’s better. Even an old dog such as you can still learn. Make that your homework for next time, alright? You’ll need to learn it eventually, I can assure you.”
“I’ll endeavour to improve myself in such a capacity, Yuna.”
“Good. Now, I’m going to take my leave. This whole scrambled war business has left me quite exhausted.”
She sighed, and at that moment, it appeared her full one-hundred-and-twenty-odd years bared upon her shoulders. Waving a guard over to help her with the stairs, she walked away, Eligor making a polite bow as she left. Although she glared at him, he just smiled back. Some manners just couldn’t be dropped, after all.
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Walking back towards his chambers on the other side of the council’s building, Eligor paced through the halls deep in thought, navigating them almost purely by instinct, the path to his chambers carved into his memory. Most of his peers, most of them older than himself, had already been escorted to their chambers where they could leisurely think and philosophize about these strings of disappearances, murders, and thefts. It was the elder’s forté, after all, thinking in silence, using their decades of experience to inform their opinions and decisions. Just as he was thinking right now, stepping through these corridors he knew so well, his steps echoing back at him. It was almost as if his past selves were walking here with him, thinking with him.
And some thinking he did. His mind evaluated every little detail, from the facts presented to them at the meeting, to the vocal inflexions of the prominent council members. The conclusions he arrived at were, as expected, not very promising in the short term. There was a fiery passion burning in the younger members of the council, of those of Pyrn and Yrus descent. A certain amount of passion and hostility towards the other faction should be expected, but against all expectations, it wasn’t dying down.
There had been similar cases like this in the past, of the different factions of Hybrid almost coming to blows with one another. This happened every once in a while, it was somewhat inevitable In these cases, although individuals of both sides had been at each other's throats, the elders had always managed to stem the tide.
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Not this time though. Voices of reason didn’t appear to be enough this time. Something, or someone, was fueling the fire. And with one of the Chiefs gone, they didn’t have enough water to quell it, only to temporarily halt it in its tracks.
Murmuring, the Pyrn councilman headed further towards his chambers.
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Grumbling softly to himself in annoyance, Eligor rounded the corridor into the section of the building which held his room. And then something made him stop. There was something in the air, something not quite right. He looked around, the gears turning in his head. Even though he was currently a council member, in his younger days he had been a guide through the Twisted Woods to the south, a forest that shifted and changed due to its proximity to the Night of Life. It was a treacherous place, and one’s senses were honed to their maximum if you’d lived there for long enough, provided the wildlife didn’t scare you away or maim you. Those old senses told him that was being watched. And not the normal sort of watched. This was more… sinister. It felt as if a predator was stalking him, gauging his every move.
The Yrus elder looked around him. It was somewhat late in the evening, maybe an hour after sunset. It was dead quiet, and the candles on the wall threw flickering shadows across the marble walls. Instinctively, he stepped closer to the walls, continuing to walk to his room cautiously. He looked behind him, and in the gloom, he thought somebody dive away out of view. Or was that his imagination? Gulping the fear away that was slowly mounting in his throat, he quickened his pace to get to his room.
The twenty meters of the corridor to his room was abandoned and devoid of the predators his senses were warning him about, but the feeling within him didn’t fade. He’d now realized what else was wrong. The silence. There were no servants that were helping the elders in this part of the complex. The older members of the council were housed inside the building itself, to help them attend meetings easier. He was able to walk and do his thing easily enough, but a few of his nearby co-inhabitors weren’t so fortunate. Even at this time of the evening, there should be at least some servants around. Yet, he neither heard nor saw anything.
His suspicions rising, he reached the door to his chambers. First, he checked the locks. The doors were still locked, and there were no signs of forced entry, scratches, or the like. With a little push, he opened his door, opening it without a sound. Moving slowly and a bit jittery, he moved into the darkness of his chambers, closing the door behind him, and some of his dread left him. Not that it’d do him much good if a decently strong person wanted to enter, but it at least gave him some minor peace of mind. And the guards would surely hear it, even if they were some distance away.
He entered his living room, the area where he did most of his relaxation and eating. It was quite richly decorated, with trophies and relics of both his family and his past nearly lined up for display along the walls. Portraits of family members hung on the remaining free pieces of wall, only visible as black ovals. In the middle of the living room stood a large oaken table, unadorned but sturdy, surrounded by four equally sturdy chairs. He snuck past them all, making his way to the kitchen area, which was just a small room full of cupboards and a small wooden table. He carefully poked his head around the corner and peered into it. Nothing. No signs of any disturbances either.
He wasn’t comfortable with this at all. It just didn’t make any sense. All things considered, he shouldn’t have this weird feeling. He looked around one more time, and this time, his eye fell on the door to his bedroom. And now he saw something that made the hairs on his back rise. The tiniest bit of light shone beneath his bedroom door. Which meant that somebody had lit the candles there. Holding his breath, Eligor put his ear against the door and listened, hoping that some sound on the other side of that protective slab of wood would give him some indication.
The cold oak tickled his ears and he became painfully aware of his sped-up breathing echoing softly through his living room. He straight to try and hear the most minute sounds but to no avail. Only silence made itself known on the other side. Slowly and as carefully as he could, Eligor put a shaking hand on the door handle and pressed down. With a soft crackle, the handle went down and the door slowly swung open into the bedroom.
At first glance, it all seemed in order. All of his books, reading material for late at night, were neatly stacked in the cupboard on the bed’s right-hand side. The bed itself was tidily made too, just as he left it this morning. However, on his bedside table burned five oddly shaped candles, being put into a semi-circle, a rectangular object in the middle. Those weren’t there before…
Cautiously, he snuck towards the candles, eyes scanning every nook and cranny of his room feverously, searching for the slightest trace of danger. Although the room was wrought in flickering shadows, it seemed to be abandoned.
As he reached the candles, he realized what the rectangle was: A small painting. Bending forward, he investigated the portrait more closely. It had something familiar to it, something he almost could put his finger on. And then, with a shock, he realized. He recoiled back, stumbling into his bed. The portrait depicted him. And those candles, those were funeral candles. The meaning of this hit him in the face like a bag of bricks. Gasping for air, he stumbled out of his bedroom, trying to quickly get away from that cruel joke that was being played on him. He leaned on his oaken table, willing himself to calm down. This was all a joke, just one cru-…
Suddenly, a female voice behind him chuckled.
“Did you like my little display? I thought it to be quite appropriate, wouldn’t you agree, ‘Elder Councilmember’ Eligor.”
His eyes widened, his blood turning to ice within his very veins. His old wings trembled for a moment, and he swung around to face the intruder… But before he could stand face to face with her, two strong hands firmly kept him in place and a knife was placed in his throat. The voice then whispered into his eyes, voice hushed but full of glee and amusement.
“No no no, old man. That won’t be necessary. I can’t allow an unclean being such as you to gaze upon my visage, after all.”
“Y-y-you’re sick in the head.” He managed to stammer through his fear. Stall, he had to stall somehow, until help would come. Somewhere, he recognized her voice. It sounded so familiar, but maybe due to her fanatic and triumphant tone, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it. His fear clouding his thoughts also did not prove to be much of a help.
“They’ll find out your i-identity, mark my words.”
“Oh, I highly doubt that. Sometimes, the guards just turn their cheek upon certain activities, especially those activities are brought about by just motivations.”
The woman behind him sighed in an exultant manner and the knife moved that little closer to his throat, the edge drawing a drop of blood in the process. This woman… this creature was crazy, totally insane.
“Aaahhh….” She continued. “I have to admit, you acted like quite the thorn in my side, my dear filthy elder. Your swag over the council’s masses was quite admirable. However, it is all futile before the magnificence of my cause. Don’t worry, your name will be honoured, and your life will bleed away to further a cause nobler than yourself. Although nobody will remember your name, I will keep it close to my heart.”
Then suddenly, it hit him. He knew who this voice was. A wave of indignant rage rushed through his body. Despite the knife on his throat, he called the woman out.
“How COULD you? You’re a council member, aren’t you? One of our own! How could you undermine Yuna like this, you monstrous caricature of a living being? Your plot will be discovered and thwarted, miss-...”
Before he could say anything else, the free hand covered his mouth.
“That’s quite enough. I can’t allow such incompetent filth as you to speak my name out loud. I think it's time you perish now. I hope you enjoyed the shrine I created in your honour. Glad we had this talk.”
With a smooth, practised motion, the woman slit the knife across Eligor’s throat. For a moment, he felt nothing but fear and astonishment. Then, the blood began to trickle and his breath was cut off, dizziness taking hold of him rapidly. It wasn’t even all that painful, the cut barely stinging a bit. Funny, he thought it’d hurt more. As his vision went dim and black and his hearing muffled, he heard a final chuckle coming from behind him and footsteps leading away from him. He had to… stop her.
But his body didn’t feel like complying already. Slowly, the old man collapsed on his knees and then collapsed upon the ground. Feeling the cold floor kiss his cheeks, he finally lost himself to the black void.
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