5th of Moon’s Twilight, first month of the year 984:

Andras sat in front of Albestus, in his study of the Druids’ Guild. His leg rocking up and down, he asked again, more for reassurance than for anything else.

“Is it really not necessary to send a search party?”

“For the fourth time today, no. A crow will suffice. Either Noct was on it or they are fine.”

“What, what if he was in?” Andras clenched his fist

With exhaustion overflowing from his voice, Albestus said, “Again, if he was on in he wouldn’t have changed. Please, can we discuss what we found?”

“Shouldn’t we contact the paladin?”

“The paladin was on it.”

“.....excuse me?

“I may have, slightly, let my hubris corrode my judgement. If he had been a true paladin he should have detected the grey mana in the spell circle and be more distraught. I let my gimmick of dousing him in holy light blind me, heh, to the truth.”

Raising, he almost left the chair to go arm a search party.

“Do not fret, he already ran away.”

Sitting again, Andras cursed, “You are getting on my nerves today.”

Ignoring him, Albestus explained, “It is as we feared. While it is a third of the whole spell, it's a grey mana water spell,” He casted a diminutive version of the spell they had seen on the woods and a water whip started to dance on top of his hand, “of the offensive type. A fairly versatile one, but simple nonetheless. The vampire was not an elementalist, not that you can be one if you are using grey mana.”

“Although,” Passing Andras a bronze cube, small enough to fit in his hand, Albestus continued,” it was enough to analyse its mana signature. If you find yourself next to it it should start vibrating a bit.”

“So…”

Albestus interrupted him, “Do not engage alone under any circumstance. You may be able to beat it one to one, but this is only if it doesn’t use magic. You are a man, leave the mages to the mages.”

“I find it, I send you word. Understood.”

Shifting in his chair, Albestus started small talk to distract himself from that spell circle. He could swear he had seen it before, at least partially. It felt too familiar. “So, recruiting at last? A few servants and literate workers? Don’t tell me the legendary ghost castle is going to lose its charm.”

“Noct left me work to do, and one of it was overseeing the hiring of bureaucrats to manage the realm. They were the slaves he had freed before, some regretted not accepting the offer and came to me.” With a bittersweet tone, he continued, “It appears Noct is going to let Soral manage the realm in its totality.”

Nodding, Albestus half spoke, half whispered, “True, only three months until Soral comes of age.”

“....yes.”

A somber silence befalling the room, they entered their private worlds. Both knew that Noct was changing for the better, but he didn’t have enough time to change the fate he had brought upon himself.

Andras got off the chair and saw himself out, “I should go to the castle, they ought to get back in half a week. The storms should have calmed down by the end of the celebration.”

“Goodsbye, Andras.”

Nodding, he left the room.

At the same time, in the outer ring of the city, one of those servants had been assaulted on the way home and had their memory deleted.

…………….

The journey back had been rather uneventful, if not for a messenger crow that delivered a letter. Crows had turned into the north national bird after their exemplary work as bird messengers. Intelligent, quick witted and easy to train once they had been domesticated, they scourged the skies to help the land troops with the war on information. Sending it back to their barony after feeding it and letting it rest, Soral looked around from her seat.

While it had continued to snow almost all the way back, it was more of candid and lazy droplets, incomparable to the storms of before. They were already on their 3rd day of travel and they hoped to arrive tomorrow at a bonfire.

“Have your migraines lessened, long ears?” Asked Likos, while he rested on the inside of the carriage, languidly looking at the cloudy sky.

“A bit. My head still feels like it's going to liquify and drop from my nose, but nothing that I cannot deal with.” Said with shaky words, as she hadn’t recovered yet.

Itmas grumbled from his position, “Not a pretty sight to imagine.” Turning to look at Mulia, he whispered, “Is she alright? She has been sleeping a lot.”

“Exhaustion? She oughta be tired.”

“That much?” Stealing a gaze at the front side, where Noct was driving, he asked, “Could he be stealing her….”

“Do not mutter another word, birdman. Less words have ended better careers.” Warned the dwarf

“But we all saw the m….”

“Did you not hear the dwarf? Shut it.” Now reprimanded Lipos.

While Lia and Likos tried to maintain their trust in their Lord, they could but harbour the same sentiment as their comrade in arms. Mulia had been losing more force each day, and now almost could not stand on her feet. While she maintained a strong front, when the higher ups could not see her she tended to drop, exhausted.

What they would soon learn was that she had been poisoned and that their doubts had helped the poison do its dirty work.

“We should camp soon, it will darken in a few hours.” They could overheard Sorak notifying Noct in a strained tone.

The carriage soon slowed down and parked near the road.

While grabbing the materials to prepare the tents, Sorak noticed that Mulia had fallen asleep. As she had been looking tired these last days, she grabbed the things she needed as quietly as possible and went to help with the tents.

Lia and Likos started to prepare dinner and Lia started to talk about the local flora. In the midst of their conversation, Soral passed near and asked.

“...while the trees here are….”

“Hey, has anyone seen Mulia? Shouldn’t she be helping you both?”

“Em, she is still sleeping in the carriage, I think?”

“I will go wake her up.”

Soral strolled to the carriage and checked inside.

“Sorak!” What she saw inside was not comforting, as Mulia had started to sweat and tremble profusely.

Noct arising from the shadows of the carriage thanks to her scream, he quickly dashed to Mulia and started to analyse her.

“Nether.” ‘Black poisoning.’ His spell had opened him the vision of her internal veins and arteries corrupted by festering mana. A type of curse magic, this kind of spell corrupted blue mana, giving it a darker tone, and made it act in a similar way to grey mana. It ‘ate’ the mana that it had been attuned to and, once it had no more nearby mana, it attached itself to the life tissue, consuming it next. Having started in the guts, it had extended to all her digestive apparatus and had started to seep in her circulatory system. This last one was the one who had caused her drop in temperature, while the sweat tried to excrete the poison. While it could be caused by a normal spell, the most inconspicuous way was to poison the desired target with a food that had good mana conductivity. Plants with high conductivity were used in the fabrication of potions and ointments, as the could be enchanted as well as ‘moon’s stone’, and better materials resulted in way better end products, as the increase in quality was exponential.

Sorak arrived and she started to invoke her faith, asking, “Diagnosis?”

“‘Black lilith’, poison. You are useless on treating this, your global heal will only feed it. Soral, I need you to burn it. I will repair the burnt tissue. The guts, we will deal with later.”

“I have no expertise in fire magic! Aren’t you the one who got….”

“Do it.” Noct was already hard at work trying to limit its spread. With the infected veins already located, he had to micromanage two ‘filter’ spells, shield magic that could be fine tuned to only let certain substances pass by, this time blood, by tuning them to the spell itself. It was a needed characteristic in long battlefields, as to not suffocate inside one's protection. He had to quarantine both ends of the infected zone while also corroding the accumulating affected blood on the ‘filters’, meaning two shields for each blood vessel, to stop further contamination. While it was in his capabilities to also burn the infected tissue at the same time, he feared, no, he thought himself incapable of toying with fire. He had long lost his control over fire, using it to heal was beyond him.

This story has been stolen from Royal Road. If you read it on Amazon, please report it

“Fuck!” Kneeling next to Mulia, she tried to copy the diagnostic spell of Noct and failed, making Noct craft another for her. Seeing the condition of Mulia she paled but got to it nonetheless.

“Paladin, soothe the pain. It is going to hurt.” Sorak got to pray without further word.

“Do I just burn the dyed veins?”

“Everything black that's not guts.”

Soon Mulia screams resounded in the camp, no amount of magic could stop the unforgettable sensation of being burned alive inside of one’s body. In front of Soral’s eyes, she saw how the burn veins quickly turned to dust and almost caused an internal haemorrhage, only for the blood to swiftly return, as a magic spell reconducted its flow to the normal pathway. A few droplets of liquid fell on her right hand as she saw the endothelium of the blood vessels she had burned instantly regrow, followed by a slower reconstruction of the intima, media and adventitia layers. Her sweet soon followed the trend of her brother’s and fell onto the ground, as the concentration needed to burn something so small was starting to take a toll.

Sorak had to silently watch as both mages did their best to heal Mulia, who had fallen unconscious thanks to her efforts. She had decided it would be better to force her to sleep, the danger of her hitting Sorak or Noct would have been too dangerous. The blood that was starting to drench Noct’s left flank made her frown, not that she could see his tears of blood.

“I burned it all!” As soon as she said these words, Soral let herself fall on her back and started to pant, letting her spells fade.

Noct continued for a few moments before stopping his hands.

“It is done. Leave. Sorak, bring me psyllium and ginger. They are needed for the antidote. Be quick, Lia should know” Remembering one of his conversations with his scaly friend, he fished a possible treatment from his memories.

Grunting, Soral had not the energy to muster her indignation with that treatment and, without looking at Noct, she left the Tent. The snow outside cleaned her hand of his blood.

“Can’t it wait?, I think it’s your turn for treatment. The wounds opened again. I am g….” Going to confront Noct, once she took a good look at his face she followed the trend of Soral and paled.

His left eye had turned the same green undead had, and that was the one who had started to cry blood, while the other was its natural brown colour. The wound on his side had opened, as if it had rejected the faith healing she had done and the clothes near the wound were tinted with a reddish green.

“I can deal with them. Mulia can’t. Go, now.” Said coldly Noct as he started to form spell circles.

“You, have you looked at a mirror? You look like a….”

In a tone that made her shudder, he cut her, “I do not care how I lood right now! Bring the herbs, now..” His brown eye turning slightly green and his green eye reverting to its earlier colour, he healed his opened scars while looking at Mulia. “I do not know who thought it would be a good idea to poison our meals, I do not know what was the plan behind. Were they so stupid as to think anti poison elixirs do not exist?” Turning to look at Soral, madness ran rampant in his gaze. His voice calm, he continued, ”I will search for them, I will find them, I will skin them alive. But, first, the herbs. I won’t ask another time.”

Sorak, too unsettled to talk, nodded and bolted out of the tend.Noct turned back to the unconscious Mulia. Not daring to wait without doing anything, he reactivated his spell and monitored her state. Whispering, he started to laugh darkly. “Just you wait and see. I didn’t get my titles by talking things over.”

A few minutes later, Sorak returned with the herbs and Noct got to work.

Under the sound of the mortar and the pestle, Sorak tried to calm him down, “Noct, we have got proof. We can carry this to the Courts and….”

“And what? We have no proof. If she isn’t dead she isn't useful to us. We can’t prove anything.”

“My word would….”

“Your word is worthless. Do you not realise what this was? This was an assassination attempt on your Lady in the very garden of the Countess. Either she was on it or something more powerful was behind. I doubt the Duchess would try to after Soral agreed to her proposal, hence only two powerful foes remain. The ‘Hands’ or the Merchant Association.” Melting a bit of snow with fire, action he didn’t notice he did, he mixed the enchanted plant paste and had Mulia drink it. Once she did, he redoubled his efforts in his spell, as he needed to amplify the antidote for the treatment had come way later than it should.

Taken aback, she fell into the trap Noct had laid for her to change the topic, “Lady Soral agreed to what?”

“Becoming a countess. Ask her later, of no consequence. I will only need to….”

“Lord Noct, shut up. I will not let you do whatever madness you are thinking now.”

With fury in his now bright green eyes, with his face and flank soaked in blood, the lunacy was evident in his tone, “Do you have the means to stop me?”

“We shall see! Do whatever you want!” Said Sorak. She got out of the cart, leaving Noct to his brooding. ‘I should ask Soral for a house arrest order. The fool is only going to sink himself more if he acts rash now.’

Noct stayed inside the carriage tending Mulia

………….

“Yes, Sorak, what did you want to ask?” Questioned Soral, heating herself near the fire. The guards were on emergency look-out after she explained what had happened.

Not knowing which one to pick, she went with two of the three things she needed to say. “Noct is going to act a fool, I need you to talk some sense into him. Leaving that aside, who do you think is behind this?”

“Well….I do not think I can prevent him from killing the bastards. Noct will investigate, and I’m sure I can’t stop him, after all, it was his doll who got hurt.”

“Soral!” Reprimanded Sorak, losing her composure.

“Fine, Fine! I’m just tired and crank. Forget I said anything.” Soral tried to evade her gaze, embarrassed after that hurtful comment she did to vent her ire.

“I am not going to gloss it over this time, Lady Soral! Madam Mulia almost died and here you are, laughing at her! What did she do to spite you this much?!”

Soral, taken aback by the aggressiveness of Sorak defended herself. “Well, I am just telling the truth ain’t I?!”

Sorak, noticing the lie, sighed and asked, “The real reason, Lady Soral.”

Realising her mistake, Soral mumbled, “She is a servant, she will leave like the others.”

Remembering she was dealing with a 15 years old child who had been abandoned by her servants before, Sorak walked to her and hugged her, dropping the matter.

“We are here to stay, Lady Soral.”

“How do I know you are not going to leave?”

“Because I swore to stay by your side.”

Stopping her cry before it could start, Soral switched the topic.

“Was that all, Sorak?”

Sorak scratched her head and asked, “What pact did you accept with the Duchess?”

Soral looked around and spat, “Who told you that?”

“Noct.”

“He shouldn’t have known anything about….Did the duchess approach him as well? Then why did she….Never mind. Yes.”

“And what did you pacted?”

“She will protect me from Noct if I take her side against the Empire in her fight for reformation and the making of a constitution.”

“I see. An ideal worth striving for, if it’s what it seems.” Not waiting to fight again, she hid her concerts for the ‘becoming countess’ part of the rumour.

Detecting something off about the usually idealistic paladin, she asked, “Why so cautious, Sorak?”

“I fear she is scheming. For what reason, if not, would she have proposed the same deal to Noct? And, if it was the same deal, why would Noct have refused?”

Soral said, without thinking much, “Intrigue has never been your forte, Sorak. And trying to understand my brother is a fool's errand.”

With little confidence, Sorak warned, “I pray I will be proven wrong, Lady Soral.”

…………….

“Ugh, my head…..” Complained Mulia. Looking around, she found herself in a tent. “Wasn’t I sleeping in the carriage?”

“You were, yes.” A terrifying voice made her jump and, scared, she looked to its origin. Noct was sitting, with his legs crossed, on a corner of the tent. His eyes shone with the same green she had seen on the zombie he had summoned that long ago. She could never forget that spine-chilling look, that disgusting green.

“Ah, em, why I am…”

“You were poisoned. We treated you and carried you here.”

“...thank you?”

“Next time you are feeling strange say something.”

“...why did th….”

“You were a collateral. The real target was us, me, in particular. Do not fret,“ Killing intent storming inside his greenish stare, “, they shall be dealt accordingly.”

“...really? Why would they try to….”

“I do not care and I do not intend to ask. I think we are past the point of talking.” He didn’t realise his fist had drawn blood thanks to the force which he was clutching them. “I will find them, no matter what or where and, especially, not why. They dare to play these games? I will…..” Before he could finish his diatribe, he felt a warmth he had long forgotten.

“You are scaring me, Noct. I am fine, you saved me again. It’s all good.” Mulia was hugging him. He now felt the pang of pain in his hands, causing him to open them slightly.

“But….”

“Shh. I’m here, you can calm down.” Receding a bit, she grabbed one of her handkerchiefs and whipped some of the blood in his face.Hiding a cough, she joked a bit. “For the healer, you look worse than the patient.”

Exhaustion and pain taking hold of him, he found himself unable to escape from her. His dark thoughts, on the other hand, refused to be trapped by such meaningless act.

“They deserve to….”

“You should change your robe. If it's not cleaned properly before it dies you will give me a hell of a job. I am the one cleaning your clothes after all, Noct.” Whispered Mulia, tightening her soft grip.

“I need to….” His mind calming down thanks to the tactics of Mulia, his voice lowered.

“To nurse me, here I am. If you go, how are you going to do it?”

Giving up to the feelings he wanted to burn, he stayed with Mulia. They talked about tens of simple things, all inconsequential but, in that very reality he used to think as a waste of time, they felt warm. Maybe Noct had let himself be stopped in vain hopes of feeling that warmth again, that he did not know.

‘I am that weak as to let my only righteous rage I have felt in these last years vanish just like that?’ He asked. Looking at the laughing Mulia after telling her one of his childhood stories, he felt him having fun too. Could his memories be a source of happiness? Could there be something worth remembering? Was he deserving of finding it? For a change these questions took a backseat in his mind, he was far too occupied dealing with a too excited Mulia to let his demons sink him again.

Soon enough he had to go get dinner for the both of them, too distracted to see Sorak sneakily retreating from the side of their tent.

Once the next day arrived, they set out again for Bonfire.

………………….

“Home sweet home.” Said Soral, half heartedly, as they crossed the gates of Bonfire. This little journey had been too tiring to be worth it.

Noct didn’t respond, as he felt his self hate increase as he had, almost, voiced those very same words of her. His cheerful mood had been long forgotten, he had too many people to kill for him to feel like deserving it. Sorak had, after all, asked him for help, and he would provide, for his sister's safety if only.

………………