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The Blight
B.2 Ch.2 - Unanswered Questions

B.2 Ch.2 - Unanswered Questions

In the courtyard of a luxurious manor in the heart of the Empire’s capital, a pair of wooden swords clashed together with a sharp crack. The larger swordsman stepped in, swinging from above, forcing the smaller of the two onto the backfoot. The smaller one deflected the incoming blade to the side, sweat flying from the platinum hair that stuck to his forehead.

Lukas countered, thrusting towards Adlet’s belly, only for his sword to be knocked clean from his hands. It landed in the dirt beside him, and Lukas froze stiff as the tip of Adlet’s sword touched his throat.

“Predictable,” Adlet said teasingly. “You’ve tried that same counter three times today, haven’t you lil’ Lu?”

Lukas picked up his sword with a huff, rolling his shoulders to free them of stiffness. His limbs were weary and aching, half from exertion and the other half from the light yet repeated blows of a wooden blade. Even through the gambeson he wore, the sword strikes had started to add up after a time.

“Again,” Lukas said with determination. He lifted his longsword into an aggressive stance over his shoulder, a vom tag, and narrowed his eyes at his brother.

Adlet smirked back, and held his blade out low in front of him.

Alber guard, Lukas recognized, irritation coursing through him. One of Adlet’s favourites.

Lukas began to move slowly to the right, just as Adlet did the same. And so, the game began again.

They held eye contact as Lukas looked for even a moment’s opening. He switched his stance, from vom tag to ochs, feinting before stepping back into a high guard… none of which Adlet fell for. He circled calmly, that irritating grin never once leaving his face.

Growing frustrated, Lukas dropped to a plough guard, and lunged for Adlet’s thigh. Adlet parried, and in a movement so fast it registered as little more than a blur, countered with a thrust.

Lukas shifted to the side, the wooden blade sliding harmlessly past his shoulder. He brought his own sword up, trying to hit Adlet’s wrists, but his brother stepped out of range perfectly.

Lukas’ sword flew from his hands again, caught into a bad bind and then twisted from his grip. It landed at his feet this time, and Lukas grit his teeth in frustration as Adlet’s blade again touched his throat.

“That was a bit better, wasn’t it?” Adlet commented. “Still too slow, but better.”

“He’s six years your junior, Adlet,” Sarian commented from the sideline. “You could stand to be a little less insufferable, little brother.”

Lukas picked up his training sword again, biting back another huff of irritation. Sarian eyed him with a sympathetic expression, then got up from his chair, leaving his mug of still steaming tea behind.

“Adlet, hand me your sword.”

“Eh?”

Sarian held his hand out expectantly, and Adlet hesitated for a moment before sighing and passing it over.

“Suit yourself…”

Seemingly growing bored with the situation immediately, Adlet turned and left them behind, disappearing into the maze-like garden that took up most of the courtyard. This late in the year most of the plants had lost their leaves, but he was quickly out of sight nonetheless.

“You seem frustrated today,” Sarian remarked, holding the sword loosely at his side. “Is something on your mind?”

Lukas raised his sword back into vom tag wordlessly.

Sarian raised an eyebrow, then undid the top button of his suit and began to stretch his neck.

“Very well,” Sarian said calmly, raising his own sword into longpoint guard. “Take out your frustrations, then.”

Lukas launched into an all-out assault. Strike after strike, from high, from low, lunging thrusts to swipes and draw cuts. Sarian blocked each one, never once retaliating, letting Lukas press him backwards with a growing vigour.

“Ha!” Lukas shouted, throwing his whole weight into a downcut.

Sarian parried it to the side, then countered for the first time at Lukas’ exposed flank. Lukas barely got his sword up in time, pushing Sarian’s blade away when it was an inch from his gambeson.

Lukas renewed his offensive, trying everything he could to get past Sarian’s guard, yet he never once seemed to come close. At times it would almost seem like it, with Sarian dodging by a hair or only blocking at the last possible moment, yet nothing connected.

His arms beginning to shake and his breath becoming ragged, Lukas clenched his jaw in anger and lunged once again. His thrust was parried, as well as the cut after it. Over, and over, and over…

Eventually, Lukas dropped his arms to rest on his knees, doubled over and panting for breath. Sarian lowered his sword, having not even visibly started breathing harder yet.

“Something must truly have you troubled, Lukas. Would you care to confide? Or have the days of trusting your eldest brother come to an end so soon?”

Lukas sighed, and dropped the tip of his sword down into the dirt. He leaned on it as he caught his breath.

“It’s… nothing,” Lukas finally said, refusing to meet Sarian’s eye. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

“Hm, which is it then? Nothing, or you do not wish to talk? I’m fairly certain it can not be both.”

Lukas gave a resigned sigh, collapsing to sit on the cold, packed earth of the courtyard ground. Sarian sat in front of him, laying his sword down to rest in his lap.

“You have been acting strangely since the night of the ball,” Sarian said. “I had been wondering what was wrong, but had not expected it to last so long. Do you need help with something, little brother?”

Lukas shook his head.

“I told you, it is nothing. I’m merely… confused over something, and struggling to find answers.”

“Well that most certainly seems to be something.”

Lukas finally met his eye.

“Where did you go the night of the ball?” Lukas asked.

“What do you mean?”

“I looked for you during the ball,” Lukas continued. “Yet I did not see you once after we arrived. Same as Kurtis and Leon. Where did you go?”

“That is what has you bothered?”

Lukas looked away, a bit embarrassed.

“I’m confused,” he said quietly. “The announcement did not happen, I could not find you, and no one has been answering questions since. Father still hasn’t arrived in Kasin, Kurtis and Leon don’t leave their rooms, and this is the first time I’ve seen you in days.”

Sarian listened carefully, waiting until Lukas was done to speak.

“I was not aware that you were so troubled, or I would have spoken to you sooner. My apologies, Lukas.”

Lukas sighed, and some of the tension left his shoulders.

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“Some of the higher nobles from Kasin cornered me early on, and I was busy speaking to them in a booth for longer than I had expected,” Sarian said. “By the time that was finished, and I was ready to re-enter the ball properly, a captain of the Royal Guard had come to speak to me on some matters of importance. That lasted until the very end of the ball… it was a rather boring evening, all considered. I did not even get to meet Princess Alyssia.”

Matters of importance…?

“What business did the guard have with you?”

“Nothing you need concern yourself with, little brother,” Sarian said, smiling at him. “Just some politics, is all. Enjoy your freedom from such things while you have it. You’ll be desperate to escape it someday, I’m certain.”

Could it be… the assassination plot? Lukas wondered. If it concerns Alyssia, then perhaps they were informing Sarian… or maybe questioning him.

For the first time, the frustration Lukas had been harbouring turned to concern for his brother instead. It was very possible that the guard had gone to question Sarian, maybe even threaten him, or at least as much as they could get away with without sparking direct conflict between the houses.

“Are you safe, Sarian?” Lukas asked in a whisper.

Sarian looked at him with surprise.

“Of course. All is well, Lukas. I’m to be wed to the crown princess, remember? Don’t waste your time worrying for me.”

Lukas looked for any sign, any subtle hint at all that Sarian could be lying. He found nothing. Sarian didn’t even seem to be controlling his expression… Lukas couldn’t detect even the barest trace of dishonesty.

Yet still, a suspicion grew. Sarian wasn’t telling him everything. No one was.

“Understood,” Lukas replied after a brief moment.

“Good. Now, if you ever need to take out your frustrations again, I’d recommend finding a different sparring partner than Adlet. He’ll most certainly make any frustrations worse, rather than better.”

Then with a wink, Sarian rose from the ground and walked back to the little metal table where his tea lay. He leaned the wooden sword against a chair, took a sip of his drink, and gathered the few scrolls and papers that had been strewn out across the table.

“Evening comes quickly this time of year,” Sarian said. “See yourself inside before the sun sets. It would be most unfortunate to catch a cold so far from home.”

Lukas nodded and watched as Sarian packed up and left the courtyard, leaving him in a peaceful silence. The courtyard was suddenly very lonely, and the late autumn air against his bare skin put a shiver down his back. Lukas got up and packed his own things, throwing his cape over his shoulders to stave off the chill, and left the courtyard as well.

Unlike Sarian, who’d gone towards the main building of the manor, Lukas entered an outbuilding attached to the wall near the back of the garden. Even inside the wealthiest district of Kasin, the manor had its own walls and towers, though they were rarely guarded. As it was, Lukas made his way up through an empty, dark tower, moving half by memory as he wound his way up the spiral staircase.

At the top of the abandoned guard tower Lukas sat down in a rickety wooden chair, letting himself slouch low with a deep exhale. The top of the tower was open around the edges, only a stone railing between him and the plummet to the base of the wall. There was a tall, peaked roof over his head, though, pointed like a witch’s hat.

His mind still raced with all of his unanswered questions, and he drummed his fingers against the table in front of him idly.

Just what was Sarian keeping from him? Who else would know? Where had his brothers gone during the ball? Was this assassination plot against Alyssia even real, or had Cassius been playing him all along?

Were he and his brothers safe? If someone was after the crown princess, and Sarian was betrothed to her…

Lukas sighed, shook his head and slapped his cheeks. Too much time around Elias had turned him paranoid, surely.

Wait… Elias?

Lukas froze as his most peculiar sibling came back to mind. What was it he had mentioned, right at the start of the night…

‘Do you think there will be an assassination tonight?’

At the time, Lukas had written it off as his brother’s paranoia, buried underneath his shock at someone being so blunt as to open a conversation like that. But now, in light of his conversation with Cassius…

Beside him on the edge of the railing, a small, dark bird landed in a soft flutter. It chirped at him, and Lukas shooed it away with his hand.

I’ve tried to speak to Sarian, Kurtis and Leon, Lukas thought, puzzling through it in his head. Yet they’re all unavailable or tight-lipped. But if Elias knows something, then maybe…

The bird chirped again, and Lukas frowned as he tried to shoo it away once more.

But what could he even know? And if he did know something, why casually bring it up in such a manner? If-

The bird fluttered its wings impatiently, chirping again louder than before. Lukas turned to shoo it away more firmly this time, then did a double take as he saw it clearly for the first time.

In the centre of the bird’s eyes, a faint blue light glowed in rings that shifted and clicked in unnatural patterns. The bird was unusually close to him as well, staring intently into his eyes without any fear. And there, strapped to the bird’s ankle, was a tiny scroll tied together with a line of blue silk.

Bewildered, Lukas reached out and untied the scroll. The bird chirped happily, then flew away.

“Carrier pigeon…? Who would…?” Lukas wondered half aloud. He pulled open the knot around the scroll, unravelling it with curiosity only to become even more confused.

Inside, the scroll was blank. He flipped it over, checking both sides back and forth. Still blank.

“Who’s sending blank letters?” He asked himself, flabbergasted.

Shaking his head, Lukas set the scroll down face-up on the table.

Right, where was I again…

He didn’t have time to even begin collecting himself, for in that very moment, the scroll began to glow. A faint haze surrounded the edges of the parchment, something that wavered like heat over a hot road, and was hard to look at. Lukas squinted to try and see more closely, recoiling from the paper a bit yet too curious to fully draw himself back.

Before his very eyes, in a glowing blue ink, letters appeared all at once on the paper.

‘Good evening, Lukas Von Lichtenwald.’

Lukas gaped at the tiny scroll. The letters faded from sight as quickly as they came, only to be replaced immediately after.

‘You can respond with a quill of your own, if you’d like. Don’t worry. Whatever you write will fade in moments.’

Lukas looked around the tower for any sign of a quill and inkwell, cursing himself for not remembering to carry his own. After a few moments he found some, sighing in relief as he pulled them from another table near the opposite wall. He walked quickly back to his own table, checking to see if another message had appeared. A third message had just bled onto the page as he sat down.

‘If you require some time, that is fine and well.’

Lukas smiled as the unfamiliar handwriting faded from view again. There was only one person he could imagine who had both the access to an artefact like this, and the desire to use it to talk to him.

‘Good evening, Prince Cassius,’ Lukas wrote. The black ink of his own quill soaked and stained the scroll, then slowly faded just as the blue ink did.

A moment later, a response.

‘You could at least act surprised and awed. Are you aware of how expensive these scrolls are?’

‘Here I thought they cost nothing, when your father is a sorcerer.’

‘Fair enough.’

Lukas leaned back in his chair, a childish grin on his face. This… this was a real magical artefact. Something that even nobles of the Lichtenwald family’s status did not use flippantly. And yet, now he was using one for something as mundane as a conversation.

How absurd. How novel. How interesting.

The capital was proving to surprise him more and more as time went on, it seemed.

‘I suppose you did not send me such a scroll for idle chat,’ Lukas wrote.

‘Idle chat? No, I wrote to discuss the weather, in fact. Quite the matter of concern recently.’

Lukas chuckled.

‘Have you news to share, Cassius?’

‘Indeed I do, and even more questions to ask. But, not through letter. Perhaps you would care to join me in the palace tomorrow?’

Lukas paused before responding. Did he really trust Cassius? Just as importantly, if Cassius was asking questions about the Lichtenwald family, did Lukas not have a duty to withhold that information? Was he even capable of withholding anything from the wizard prince?

‘I spoke with the guard. Would you perhaps care to learn why the announcement was cancelled?’

Lukas drummed his fingers against the table as his curiosity roared to life. Damn that prince… he knew just how to bait him.

‘Or perhaps you’d like to hear about what your dear eldest brother got himself into that night?’

‘What time should I arrive?’

‘Noon. Don’t worry, I’ll let the guards and servants know you’re coming.’

Lukas watched the last words fade off the page, leaving behind not the faintest stain of blue ink where they once were. He continued staring at the blank paper for a time, waiting to see if another line would appear. When it did not, he slumped low into his chair.

Slowly, a smile built on his lips.

Kasin was turning out to be very interesting indeed.