Chapter 2

The hollow clattering sound of the brass bell that hung in the corner of the room broke the peaceful morning air. Amarana groaned in frustration, reaching down for a thick set of trousers that lay beside the bed and throwing them at the bell. Only managing to stop the ringing for a few seconds before the thin chain connected through the wall began ringing the infernal alarm again. Sitting up in bed and brushing her hair from her eyes she stared at the bell in annoyance, Sunday after Sunday the custodians of the barracks seemed to forget she didn’t have training that morning, with Master Rictus busy supervising the sparring sessions of her youngest silver siblings. The ringing continued to pound painfully against her sensitive ears. Her legs shuddered as her feet touched the cold stone floor of the wooden room, pulling herself out of bed and swiftly crossing the small chamber and unhooking the dented bell from the chain. She turned, spiking the cursed thing into the floor, flinching as it pinged sharply against the stone. For a moment she considered crawling back into bed but doubted she would get any more sleep. Letting out a tired yawn she turned grabbing a cup off the heavy wooden chest that functioned as a nightstand, finishing off the remaining water in the glass at her bedside before beginning her mornings workout.

Amarana stood in a low crouch on the rug in the center of her room. A heavy stone sphere held out horizontally in front of her, sweat running down her forehead. Suddenly the door to her room flung open and she jumped in surprise dropping the stone with a loud crash to the ground, scrambling for the robe that hung on the corner post of her bed. Head Custodian Yllessia marched unabashed into the room wearing a dark red dress with her pristine white apron sitting on top. Her hair a perfect braided coil resting on top of her head not a hair out of place. Amarana was convinced that her voice grated just as much as the bronze bell,

“Mara. What are you doing? Why aren’t you ready? This is not the time to be dallying!” she shrieked. Mara just stared at her, with a confused expression on her face. The matron crossed the room to her, taking her by the wrist. “Did no one tell you? You're being assigned Housefang, I sent Dewark to come get you ready that scatter brained boy!” Mara froze in shock, the statement crashing into her like a frigid wave to the back. Her thoughts scattered in the confusion leaving her mind empty, unable to process the words. Yllessia dragged her toward the bed sitting her on the corner, she turned and began rifling through the trunk beside her. Finally Mara was able to stutter out a response,

“H.. Hous.. Housefang? Now? How is that possible? Rictus says none of the fledglings are anywhere close to being promoted.” The custodian turned from the chest with a wide wooden brush in her wrinkled fingers. “That is always Master Rictis from you young lady” she snapped, but then seemed to hesitate a moment before answering. “But you are correct in that none of the fledglings have been recognized as a full Pact mage.” she said, taking the brush and began to run it through Mara’s deep brown hair. “Your charge is to be Lord Cortenan, he just recently took the oath and was assigned the position and rank of a full fledged mage…” The implication hung in the now silent air. Someone with the skill to be considered a fully realized practitioner of magic, requiring endorsement by a council member before taking on the Pact.

“You're saying he was a Rogue Mage!” she protested, trying to keep from raising her voice. Turning to look Yllessia in the eyes interrupting the rhythmic motion of the brush. Frowning at her Yllessia grabbed her head and turned it harshly to face front again and continue to brush the tangles from her hair.

“Lord Cortnenan did in fact study magic independently under his father before coming to join the Pact. And yet I would remind you that serving as Housefang to any mage is an honor beyond reproach to any werewolf of your clan.” Mara sheepishly faced the wall at that, the both of them sitting in silence while her hair was brushed.

Standing from her work Yllessia turned and began to make her way toward the door. “Go clean yourself up, your new uniform will be waiting for you when you get back. Gather your things and collect your weapons from the armory you're expected to meet the good lord by the pavilion at noon.” Before Mara could even respond she pushed the door open and strode from the room, likely in search of anyone who had ignored the morning bell. Now alone in the room she rose from her bed still trying to collect her thoughts. A rogue mage? She moved toward the opposite door within her barrack that led out onto the white sandy beach, shuffling as though sleep walking her thoughts a haze of shock and anxiety. Stepping onto the cool morning sand she strode toward the calm blue water, a group of her younger sisters ran past through the deep mediterranean sand, red in the face as they struggled to keep up with Master Hunting’s quick pace. She smiled and waved at them as they passed remembering the days of grueling training she’d gone through in her youth. These days only Master Rictis seemed to have anything left to teach her, she grimaced rubbing the large bruise on her bicep he’d given her during their last sparring match. But all that was about to change, she stopped suddenly in the middle of the beach the realization finally dawned on her. Despite herself excitement began flooding into her, she was finally going to be a Housefang!

She dropped her robe to the ground and began running for the shoreline, crashing into the shallow sea water. She turned floating on her back the morning sunshine warming her olive tanned skin thoughts racing through her mind. She had been wanting this for what felt like forever, at twenty-five it had been seven years since she had completed her training.Brutal training along with a litany of stern teachers had prepared her to fulfill her role in the contract that protected her clan from the Inquisition. Ever since she was a girl the role of Housefang had always seemed like a far off dream, her life had always been working toward a position that felt as though it would never come. The daring and dangerous life of a warrior, the personal bodyguard to powerful and noble mages of the Pact. She let her face sink beneath the waves, washing the sweat from her skin and clearing her mind. Maybe it will be ok. Who cares if he used to be a rogue mage he joined the Pact eventually.. Right? She stood up in the ocean, the lapping waves coming up to her waist and water streamed off her thin muscular frame. A feeling of calmness began to return to her as she rationalized the news. Crossing towards the shore she grabbed the thick robe off the ground dusting the sand from its side and began using it to dry her body, letting her hair dry in the sun as it rose higher into the sky. She held her fingers up to the horizon and squinted into the bright light, only eight in the morning. Good she wanted plenty of time to prepare herself.

Back in her room she examined the dark colored uniform laid out for her. A simple set of undergarments made up of underwear and a thin shirt went on first. This was followed by a long pair of thick black trousers and a black linen shirt that buttoned up the collar. The final piece of the uniform was an antiquated cloth tabard that hung on the edge of her bed. It was a deep navy blue color and emblazoned on the front was a crest that she assumed belonged to her future lord. Stitched into the emblem was the depiction of an elk reared up on hind legs, a pale green snake latched onto the beasts leg. It looked familiar and she was certain that she had seen it somewhere before. Unable to place it in her mind she pulled the tabard up over her head pulling it into place on her shoulders, there were strings connected to the sides in order to tie it closed and prevent it from getting in her way. A pair of boots rested beside the bed to complete the uniform but she ignored them, grabbing her own from next to the door and slipping them on. Mara observed herself in the mirror approvingly looking into her own deep brown eyes. The uniform was simple and managed to cover the majority of the pale scars that scattered across her arms and neck, exposing only the faded scar that crossed her forehead and the heavy scar that interupted the thin hair that ran down the sides of her face. It was sharp and easy to move in, she recalled stories told by some of her older silver sisters that claimed some mages insisted upon their female Housefangs wearing fanciful dresses for their uniform and was glad to find it didn’t seem as though Lord Cortenan was that vain. Turning from the mirror she stepped again from the room this time out into the hallway of the barrack, she turned inward down the corridor that led deeper into the hillside that the Iralycus compound was built into. Making her way out of the barrack the walls went from stained wood to plain molded earth, her path lit by flickering lanterns connected to the apex of the sloping ceiling. The only person she passed on her way to the armory was a low ranked custodian balancing precariously on a ladder cleaning soot from the inside of the black iron lanterns. Inching carefully between the ladders legs and turning through the familiar hallways she began climbing a set of narrow stone stairs that led up onto a wide, flat field.

Stepping up and out of the stairwell Mara squinted her eyes against the sun over the crowded sparing ground. On her left stood the simple stone complex that functioned as the clan's armory, keeping weapons in ones personal quarters was forbidden during peace times. On her right expanded the massive training field marked with white paint which was filled with a handful of her younger siblings led by Master Rictus practicing a series basic combat stances in quick succession. The sparring practice must have gone far worse than Rictus’s lofty expectations for them to be practicing something so basic. Turning to the left she approached the wooden armory door which was propped open by short squat stone. Peering inside Mara could make out the slouched silhouette of Florence, head looking down at a spearhead grasped in one hand as she polished the cold steel. Her long black hair was in the process of falling out of a loose bun amidst her focus as she hunched over the haft of the spear that was resting across the arms of her wheelchair. As the rusted hinges of the door creaked open Florence looked up from her work using her remaining leg to spin the chair toward the noise. Her eyes alighted on Mara flashing up and down the uniform, recognition and surprise dawning on her face as she quickly understood the meaning behind the clothing. Shooting up from the chair on her one leg she leapt forward toward Mara wrapping her arms around her neck and let out a shriek of glee so loud Mara was forced to cover her ears, the spear shaft clattering to the floor at their feet. “How could you keep this from me you ass, I can’t believe you finally got appointed!” she grinned slightly loosening the death grip she had around her friends shoulders.

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“I didn’t find out until this morning” Mara was able to wheeze out, “The Banshee herself nearly broke down my door to give me the news”.

“So who's the lucky mage, as far as I’m concerned none of the fledglings deserve you but I suppose Hendrickson isn’t so bad.” Florence’s eyes wavered down to the crest embossed on the uniforms tabard and a perplexed look began to force its way through the jubilant smile.

“ Lord Cortenan, Yllessia said he only just joined the..”

“Agrivon” Florence interrupted, finally releasing the hug and pulling her chair back up behind her. Mara blinked in surprise looking down at the crest in realization, the mark had looked familiar to her; it was the sigil of.. “Darius Agrivon” Florence almost seemed to pull the words from her mind, “One of the founding Pact mages, wasn’t he the one to abandon his oath? Apparently his son has been making big waves with the Regulators, they say no one has been able to prove any of his supposed rogue actions.”

“You’ve heard of him?” Curiosity fluttered up in Mara’s chest as she grabbed a chair that was leaning against a nearby rack of polished spears pulling it up alongside her companion's station.

“I'm surprised you haven’t, apparently the young lord was somewhat of a recluse for as long as anyone can remember. But if you believe the rumors, since the death of his father he has been going off the rails, dodging Regulators and Inquisitors alike wielding magic with complete disregard for the pact.” Mara’s face paled and her mornings fears began to bubble back up, she stood and began pacing down the racks of weapons and armor in quick anxious steps. Reading the worry on her friends face Florence wheeled forward toward her.

“I'm sure everything will turn out alright. I mean he did bind himself to the Pact in the end right? Surely that's a good sign?” She stammered trying to be consoling.

“I thought the same thing this morning but I grow less and less sure of myself the more I think about it.” Mara turned back, pacing the other way toward the front of the chamber where a slender wooden box rested bolted to the wall. She popped the latch open, the lip hanging down like a shelf revealing a short and slender sword. Sheathed in finely stained leather the bone handle of the sword fit well in her hand as she lifted it out of the box. A large black pearl sat in the pommel glaring up at her as she affixed the scabbard to her belt and drew the shining silver blade. The sidearm was the last piece of her uniform, it was more ornamental then she liked but it was still functional when it came to battle. She lightly felt her finger against the razor edge wincing at the soft burn of the silver plating against her skin. Behind her she felt Florence rest a comforting hand on her back.

“You don’t have to agree with him or even get along. Don’t forget that by protecting him you're protecting all of us too. That's what it really means to be a Housefang regardless of who your master is.” Mara turned and smiled at her sister, Florence was the closest thing to a real sister she had ever had and somehow always knew what she needed to hear. She pulled her into another hug squeezing the clerk into her chair. She was right, reputation aside she had a responsibility to uphold and she was proud to do it. What right did she have to complain about her assignment when Florence would never have the chance. The wound from the Hellbeast that had taken her leg would mean she’d never have the opportunity to be a warrior of the order much less a Housefang despite her years of dedication.

“You're right, I’m overthinking things again. Are you going to be here for much longer, I need to see Master Rictus before I meet the mage himself at noon.”

“I'll be here, and if you don’t come say goodbye before you leave I’ll be putting a few holes in that fancy new uniform of yours,” Florence said laughing and waving the spearhead around in front of her.

“They’d have to drag me kicking and screaming to do otherwise,” Mara grinned, smacking her friend's hand away playfully before turning and jogging out the door onto the training field.

The sun was high in the sky now and the uniform made Mara feel too warm in the summer air. She wiped a drop of sweat from her cheek as she approached the group of trainees that had seemingly got back to their sparring practice under the careful eye of the master. Her silver siblings of this age sparred in slow practiced movements careful to not actually wound their opponent with the sharp silver tipped spears. Though he made no sign of it Mara knew Master Rictus saw her approaching, she stopped a dozen or so feet behind him standing and waiting in an attentive stance to be acknowledged. Many of her younger brothers standing out on the field stole glances at her poised in her crisp new uniform but continued with their practice. After another five minutes the middle aged man pressed a whistle beneath his thick red mustache and let out a piercing sound into the air. The young warriors stopped their flowing dance and stood facing him spears held to their side with the butt down against the ground. Master Rictus turned to inspect her looking at the uniform with a stoic cast on his face, his expressions never reached his mouth but his eyes wrinkled at the corners in an expression Mara had learned to indicate joy. He lowered his head and bowed slightly, placing a hand on the handle of his sword. She returned the bow and drew the silver blade, its reflection a blinding glare in the sun.

Rictus lunged forward drawing the long iron blade at his side in a cool fluid motion bringing it up at an angle toward her with both hands. With one arm she flung out her blade to intercept the attack, their swords met and Mara struggled to defend against the blow. Rictus was a human, physically much weaker than her and yet his strikes were always so hard to completely block. He stepped back pulling his sword up along his side before thrusting it forward toward her chest. As the sword speared forward she angled her own weapon to intercept, parrying the attack and sending the blade just to her side nicking the flowing tabard. As the two blades scraped together sparks flew and the flawless mirror like blade was scratched and sheared. Pulling back from the blow he grabbed her wrist as she spun forward to counterattack, suddenly pulling her into a great bear hug, lifting her feet off the ground. Looking down at him she saw for the first time the Weapons Master's face pulled into a wide and proud smile as he released her and patted her firmly on the shoulder.

“Sorry lass, I just can’t stand seeing such a pristine sword. A perfect blade tells the tale of a right cowardly warrior.” He jeered, glancing at the sword still gripped in her hand.

“I know, that's why the Order Master bid me to deliver this one to you, now another will have to be made.” She laughed earning a light hearted grunt from her teacher.

“You’ve spent too much time ‘round me miss, afraid I’ve ruined what could have been a right proper lady” He turned and began walking along the edge of the field, waving a hand to dismiss the trainees. Mara sheathed her sword and turned to keep up with him, “I think we both know that was for the best. Plus I’ll have you know I aced each and every one of my tortuous etiquette classes. “

“Mmm, yes such a star pupil, I guess one of those lazy mages finally made enough of themselves to be worthy of your greatness” he said with a heavy and obvious sarcastic tone in his voice. Mara flushed at the comment facing away from him as they walked. The comment seemed to affect her more than their usual banter.

“What's the matter, Scratch? This is good news after all.” He stopped walking, holding his hands together behind his back.

“I know it is, I'm excited I am, it's just..” She looked at him, what would he say if she told him the truth. The last thing she wanted was for him to make an ordeal of it. She smiled imagining him breaking down the Order Masters door with that old rusted iron sword shouting about rogue mages and unfair treatment. But was she really being treated unfairly? An opportunity to fulfill her purpose after years of waiting. A chance that arrived far sooner than it otherwise might have and to a highly prestigious family line at that. A firm and resolute feeling came over her, she would not wallow in stress and anxiety over it any longer. “It's still sad to leave behind my family. You, Florence, I'll even miss Yllessia a little bit.”

“Don’t worry lass, it's a part of growing older perfectly natural. I'm not ashamed to admit even a tough as nails man like me missed my parents when I left home.” He ruffled her hair and turned to keep walking.

She turned to follow trotting quickly to pass him, pinching him on the ear as she did. “Awww, you're saying you think of me like a daughter?” she teased as he smacked her hand away. He rolled his eyes and waved her off, turning to head toward the armory.