Darian and Lucia rounded a corner, the House of Innovation waiting for them down the street.

“It looks odd,” Darian said. “In a place like this.”

The building looked like a regular mansion, the kind he figured nobles lived in. But under the wooden dome of the sanctuary and beside the houses made from giant trees, it seemed extremely out of place.

“It is an odd place, in both appearance and function,” Lucia said, the hint of old annoyance in her voice.

“I take it you’re not a fan?”

Lucia sighed. “The sanctuary is supposed to be a haven, a safe place for those discarded by the fey queen. But my master still allows The Society of all people to have a foothold here. It…unnerves me.”

Darian had explored the sanctuary for about an hour before a fairy appeared with a message. Apparently, Raphael had already prepared everything for their first little experiment. And the location of this experiment was to be the House of Innovation.

“This is where we part,” Lucia said with a bow. “Take care, Darian.”

“You too,” he replied with a smile.

“And don’t let the owner of the house bother you. Palintross may be a supposed genius, but he is still a guest here. Same as you.” She smirked. “Perhaps it is time someone reminded him of that fact.”

“I’ll keep all of that in mind,” Darian replied. Then he waved his goodbyes and walked down the long gravel road.

Place almost looks like it’s from earth. Then as he got a little closer, he heard the familiar hum of electricity. What the hell? Curiosity fueling him, he reached the wide double doors within moments. Stone pillars stood beside him, their edges expertly carved with depictions of battles past. One appeared to show Argus, the sun glowing behind him as he took on an entire army single handed.

The doors opened and an elven woman wearing a maid outfit appeared.

“Darian?” she asked.

A little distracted, Darian nodded his head.

“Very good. This way please.”

The interior of the mansion smelled of cedar, and a dozen different halls split off from the main entrance. Desperate not to get lost, Darian followed the maid down the winding halls. It was as they walked that Darian realized the overhead lights were not from runes or candles, but from lightbulbs.

“Is that electricity?” Darian asked.

The maid, a tall young woman with braided blonde hair, smirked. “Marvelous, isn’t it? And it is but one of Palintross’ many inventions.”

“I did hear the guy was a genius,” Darian mumbled.

“That word is too small for the master,” the maid replied. “In fact, there is no word that encapsulates his brilliance.”

I’m starting to see why Lucia didn’t come with me. They passed a few more maids as they walked, all of them elves and all wearing the same outfits. One or two of them stopped to say their greetings, but the others appeared too busy.

Eventually they met a metal door flanked on both sides by a twisting staircase. The maid who’d been leading Darian reached up and knocked on the door, the sound echoing against the sparsely decorated walls.

“He has arrived, master,” she said, her cheeks blushing.

“Very good Lil. You may leave us.”

Lil bowed, then scampered back down the hall, her face bright red.

“Is she gone?” the man said.

Darian listened for a moment. “She’s already back at the entrance.”

The man chuckled. “That’s some damn fine hearing you have. Now, give me a moment and I’ll get this door open.”

The author's narrative has been misappropriated; report any instances of this story on Amazon.

The sound of shuffling feet and the tap of a metal cane reached Darian’s ears. Then came the loosening of bolts and locks.

“There we are,” the man said as he pushed open the door.

“I take it you’re Palintross?”

The short elven man adjusted his glasses and smiled. “That I am, Darian the Blood Aspirant.”

He was wearing a white button-up shirt and sported a matching set of black shoes, black slacks, and black suspenders. His grey hair was combed over a bald spot atop his head, and he hunched over a metal cane.

“I’ve never seen someone dressed like you before,” Darian said.

“No one in this world, you mean?” He grinned. “I know about you lot. The Gods, Aspirants, earth, all of it. It’s how I built this place.” He waved at the grand building, the buzz of electricity still humming in Darian’s ears. “But I do think I need to readjust the maids. They’ve been getting a little too excited when they see or speak to me. Makes working hard.”

“Readjust…them?”

Palintross waved for Darian to follow him. “They’re not actually elves, in case you couldn’t tell.”

“I couldn’t,” Darian said, glancing over his shoulder as the metal door closed itself.

“Really? They didn’t smell off to you? I guess I finally perfected the formula.”

They walked down a narrow, darkened hall, the walls made of thick stone. Several other halls jutted off from the main one, various odd sounds coming from them.

“Raphael expects a lot from you, kid,” Palintross said. “But I don’t see the appeal, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ll be glad to prove you wrong.”

Palintross chuckled. “I am never wrong.”

They came to another locked metal door, this one twice the size of the last one.

“Afraid of someone breaking in?” Darian asked, noticing the arcane runes carved into the door.

“Or getting out, if one of the slimes doesn’t take.”

Slimes?

The door rattled to life, opening on its own. Shuffling inside, Darian found himself in a massive circular chamber, a sewer grate built into the center of the floor.

“Welcome,” Raphael said, his staff tapping against the stone floor.

“What is this place?” Darian noticed the stains on the floor, and his nose twitched at the scent of blood.

“A room for innovation and experimentation of course,” Palintross replied.

Raphael sighed. “Palintross, please fetch the subjects.”

The old elf grumbled something to himself, then worked his way out of the room, closing the big door behind him.

“I thought you were ready for me?” Darian asked.

Raphael winced as he hobbled closer. “Small complication finding a satyr willing for the experiment. I have many I could order to take part, but I wish for them to do it of their own free will.”

Darian thought about what Jorg said. He doesn’t wish you harm, but what about the rest of us?

“What happens if I can turn one of them though, will you force the others to become vampires?”

“Of course not.” Raphael glared at Darian. “But it is important we see what creatures your skill can turn. Fey are no exception.” The God cast an inquisitive eye on Darian. “You seem suddenly unsure of me. Did something happen?”

Walking to the nearby wall, Darian leaned against it while shaking his head. “No exactly. But I was curious about something.”

“Well,” Raphael said, throwing an arm wide. “Ask what you will.”

“It’s about Argus.”

The God’s face drew into a picture of puzzlement. “No one has asked me about him in years. What do you wish to know?”

Darian fiddled with the sleeve of his white shirt, not sure where to start. “I heard he died in battle. Is that true?”

Raphael frowned. “That part of his downfall is true. Many versions of his death exist, but his death it still was.”

“I asked Lucia about it, but she told me you were watching the battle.”

“I wasn’t simply watching,” Raphael continued. “But I was fighting by the God of the Sun's side. Ofnia was there too, and that treacherous bastard Gallist.”

Gallist Darian had never heard of, but Ofnia was another one of Lonelen’s human gods. I think Fria said her brother Radrick served her, but she’s been missing since Argus died.

“We came to that battleground together to face Atarax. Had Gallist not betrayed us, we would have slain him.”

“But Argus is gone, right? You’re sure?”

Raphael's face twisted into a mask of rage for a moment, bitter memories clearly flooding his mind as he recalled the battle. “I watched as Atarax drove a sword through his chest. And with all our healing and skills exhausted, I was forced to watch him bleed into the soil. He is gone, Darian. He and so many others…”

“I’m sorry for bringing it up. I was just curious. But his religion still seems to be going strong, even with him gone.” Darian paused, eying the God of Season’s carefully. “And some swear they can still hear his voice.”

Raphael snorted. “Argus never liked all that religious nonsense. He was an atheist on earth. But being worshipped has its uses. It actually was his idea to start the panth—”

The far door creaked back open and Palintross stepped through. A maid appeared behind him, a caged rabbit cradled in her arms.

“More stories will have to wait,” Raphael said, a mischievous gleam to his eyes. “It’s time to experiment.”