Chapter 48
Portrayal
Sorsilia Empire
"I don't know anything. I didn't see anything. I have heard nothing."
Even though she had expected it, Keno was still disappointed. The snow was falling lazily outside the inn, like an unchanging truth, and as such the answers to her questions followed the same inexorable pattern of the past few days. A play without actors, with the vampire in the center and her mission on the stage, whose jokes were beginning to become irritating in their simplicity and directness.
"Again, nothing here," Gagaran had commented, when they had left the inn. The quintessential space for those in search of a good drink and something warm. Above all, the perfect place for those who were looking for information. Keno could not appreciate the first, as for the second... Expectations were rarely fulfilled.
"There's not much we can do. We just have to keep looking and trying," they had been in the Sorsilia Empire for weeks now. The blue roses had wandered far and wide, greeted by commendable welcome, and spirit of friendship that had almost brought tears to their eyes. Until they started asking about the Witch King, at least.
At that point, the atmosphere changed in an instant, and where there was warmth, frost began to set its reign. "And we'd better get away from here, before these looks turn into something worse."
The rumors were an omen of long nights and equally dark events. The cold had come to re-embrace an atmosphere it had found akin to home. In the whispers, sad tales were lurking. And tomorrow inevitably looked bleak.
"The cultists of the red demon come from the north, their words are fire and their blood is pus and poison. They sing of blasphemy and new orders, where lies are law, and treason a virtue."
"News comes of basilisks awakening in the mountains, of chimeras establishing lairs where civilisation has not dared to settle. Perhaps the monsters are the real masters, and they will come to put us in chains."
"The giants of the clouds prepare storms and tempests, ready to bring them down upon us. The serene weather will soon be only a beautiful memory. Let us bathe for the last time in the rays of the sun, before the sunset becomes perennial."
"Who will protect us?"
And at the center of it all, at the juncture of every hearsay, every uneasy murmurs lost in beer and laughter was him. Never directly mentioned, never even indirectly brought into the discussion. He who would protect those people was also the source of their fears.
Yet Keno knew he was there, watching from the shadows. In her restlessness the vampire had glimpsed icy eyes staring at her, stripping her of any semblance of strength, any artifice mounted for defense.
Pure white eyes, like the snow she now trod. Keno wondered if she had been the only one, or if the other blue roses had also been touched by that semblance of white, those uniform flakes that had found an end to a short journey on their petals.
"For the moment, everything seems quiet," Tia reassured. "Nothing that could pose a danger on the horizon," Tina had finished.
The first thing to make sure, once entering an unfamiliar place, was assuring that there were no spaces to get surrounded and stuck. The second was the greatest source of danger. The third a safe escape route. Tia and Tina, in this, proved crucial. If they had not been there to act as support... Keno didn't even want to even imagine it.
"In a couple of days we will be at the capital," Lakyus had said hopefully. Her cleric chain adorned with the azure of the Water God was well hidden, under a pale red robe. For some strange reason, religion was not well regarded in those places. Or, at least, only one was welcome. That the worship of the Water God was known among those people was highly unlikely, yet caution was never too much. "I don't see our friend. Well, not that I've seen him much these days."
Mairon, their Commonwealth contact, was a peculiar… personality. To them, provincials from a remote part of the world, he was a wolf-man like many others. Instinct would have warned to flee from his advice. And, perhaps, it would have been proven right, in the future. But the present demanded allies, and a relationship based on distrust was always better than one based on nothing.
"How you hairless apes decide to refer to me is of no importance," he had explained to them. "But if we are to enter into a relationship of trust and friendship, know that I am not a savage like those you are used to. My people, the aran, which means king, were the progenitors of the commonwealth. My bloodline is so pure that lords and emperors can not boast such nobility. Not that that matters much, does it?" There was something in his spellbinding gaze that caught the eye. Small and clear, they invited anyone who looked at them to enter an enchanted, bewitching world. "Let us work together, to bring peace."
He always repeated that word: peace. How much could a word be repeated until its meaning was lost? A number that would have made the many years which Keno carried in her small frame appear insignificant, for sure.
"He went in search of a new contact," Keno recalled. Some children played enthusiastically in the streets, making the most of the supply of snow that the skies had bestowed upon them. The afternoon air was cold, and the beauty of the sunset, of the sun setting in the horizon, was the only thing that could quiet the vampire's troubled soul, for a little, at least. Just enough to bring her to think clearly. "He was sure to get one by the end of the day, though he wouldn't tell me how." The other blue roses had ... difficulty interacting with the aran. Part of Keno linked it to an unfamiliarity with approaching members of a different race. Good intentions only led so far, after all.
But if someone had asked the vampire what the real reason was, her answer would have been something else, without hesitation.
"What?" Suddenly, something icy hit the vampire. Snow began to drip from the hood. Turning around, Keno could see Gagaran fully armed with snowballs, while Lakyus watched her companion somewhere between disappointed and amused. "Very mature of you," the little enchantress commented.
Gagaran smiled contemptuously at her. "We should follow the example of the brats here and learn to enjoy ourselves. Such compact snow rarely falls on Re-Estize." She finished speaking, and a second cannonball headed towards Keno.
This time, however, the vampire was aware of the attack. She did a pirouette, and gracefully avoided the blow. Without even having time to realize it, Keno's hands were already on the ground, fashioning a small but lethal projectile. Keno's aim was not lacking, and the warrior's size made her a much easier target than she was. Gagaran's chest was hit squarely, and dirty snow began to fall rapidly from her robe.
"See, that's how it's done," Gagaran's expression was even more joyful. The stress accumulated over the past few days began to melt away like their weapons. "Ready for round two?"
"Oh, you are impossible," Lakyus commented. "Let's not draw too much attention, or else..." But she did not finish the sentence. Their leader's beautiful golden hair met cold, and then the shining braids became acquainted with white. One of the twins had hit her, before a reaction could even be mounted.
"Distraction on the battlefield can prove lethal," a warning that encapsulated the great experience of entire generations of professional killers.
"The true warrior is one who expects the unexpected, and acts accordingly." Wisdom, in that case, could even be said to be doubled.
"Ah, is that so?" The fire in the Blue Rose leader's expression awoke, and to think that it could end that age of frost would not have been foolish. "Let it not be said that the Blue Rose knows defeat."
Wars were at times born on a whim. Swift began that conflict, and even swiffer was the rush that led to the swelling of the ranks. Children amassed in the streets found factions to join, and put an end to differences for the sake of one noble goal: victory. Hard-faced orcs joined with graceful moon elves, tiny orcs found shelter behind the more powerful bodies of ogres. Goblins and dwarves hatched plots and created strategies to bridge the unfairness of physical differences.
Even some parents, who at first had looked at all this in astonishment, had been won over by the joviality and light-heartedness, abandoning that useless decorum for something far more fun.
The minutes piled up, and light-heartedness began to dominate the atmosphere. In the end, the Blue Rose could have been christened the White Rose, such had been the tragic fate that had befallen them.
'Funny,' thought Keno, before declaring an end to the fighting. "I think it's enough for today." The traces of red on the cloak still visible were effigies of her victory. 'But the time for fun is over.' Not that there was much regret in the flow of events.
That moment alone would not have lost its value for the future.
The vampire noticed that her companions had also said goodbye to the games, and were back in full adventure gear, ready as ever. The street began to empty, while the lowering sunset remained the only one present to keep them company.
A shadow moved. "He's here," Tina popped up behind her... or maybe it was Tia? The twins had given up their traditional hakama and bows in exchange for clothes that drew less attention, and recognizing them was starting to get... not very easy, that was it. Even their signature red and blue outfits had been abandoned, in favor of more mundane, and less eye-catching, hues. The snow in the hair was for sure not a help. "And he's not alone."
Some barghests howled at a moon not yet in the sky. Keno noticed something unusual in the now disappearing crowd. Bands of knights were moving from side to side, regrouping and then heading compactly toward the ends of the city. They brought with them some prisoners, whose dejected expressions contrasted even more with the shining silver with which the knights were covered. The prisoners wore medallions, with unknown symbols around their necks, on display in shame.
The knights looked around, dividing their attention between the prisoners and their surroundings. Their footsteps were unsteady, and it was as if someone, or something, was following their every slightest movement, as they exchanged whispered words and looks of suspicion.
But Keno did not have time to think about it too much, that the wolf-like demi-human had approached them.
The night was penetrating, and the darkness was chased away by lanterns whose flames crackled placidly, giving the snowy streets a warmly secular and unchanging atmosphere.
"Back already. Did you miss me?" Mairon had a usually cheerful disposition, and tobacco wrapped in simple wrappers that never left his mouth. Yet every time he uttered a word, the only smell that leaked from his breath was a fresh taste of mint. "I'd say not, judging by the way you look," he shot a quick, but not uncaring, glance at each of them, quickly processing the unusual attire of the Blue Rose. "As you can see, I am not alone."
Attached to his arm, he carried a small, tortoiseshell-faced old man, whose sluggish gait lent credence to the rumors that were asserted about the race to which he was related. The wolfman's tail flicked from behind, rising and falling in no particular order. The black fur covered in transparent slivers.
"Who is that? Your contact?" Gagaran asked. Of all of them there in the middle, the woman warrior was certainly the biggest. Mairon's was close, although his build was far slimmer, but to look straight into each other's eyes Keno's companion always needed to lower her head a few inches. "Would he be our future guide? This sweet old man does not seem fit for that purpose, if I am being frank. Not that I mean to be offensive to you, esteemed stranger." The warrior-woman treated new encounters as tavern brawls, respecting the interlocutor, and always keeping her fists within reach of her possible opponent's face.
Officially, Mairon's task was to find a guide who could find them safe passage to the capital. Or, at least, a safe means to get there.
"This is a great opportunity, my dear friend," he emphasized on that last word. "I have here with me something far more precious," the glossy black fur on his muzzle was moved by a gasp caused by satisfaction. The wolfman... L'aran, had an affable smile. "Isn't that right, old friend?"
The turtle man raised his head, slowly, very slowly, and then nodded just as quickly. In all, a whole minute had passed. Or that had been Keno's perception.
"He is not of many words. A habit which, I am aware, would be far more beneficial to the likes of a personality like mine. But it doesn't matter now," Mairon inhaled with that cheap cigarette of his, exhaling little clouds of smoke the same color as his fur. Keno was more grateful than usual for the mask she wore. "What is important is the fact that you will be glad to share with us, won't you, old friend?"
The vampire was already tired of what would be said to be a scene destined to repeat itself one too many times. As she counted the seconds ticking by in her mind, the newcomer's fingers twinkled with a purple light. "Did you buy his help?" She asked Mairon. "Didn't I beg you to be a little more discreet with these things?"
The aran stomped the cigarette he had finished smoking on the ground.
Lakyus gave him a disapproving look, and with her all the few inhabitants who passed by at that moment. Fortunately, the people of Sorsilia were used to minding their own business. Whether this was a good thing was hard to say, but at that moment it seemed like a godsend from heaven.
"Do I look like a vulgar merchant?" The grimace of disappointment hinted at ivory-white fangs. It didn't take too much imagination to see those teeth tearing through the toughest flesh with ease. "Trade is for those who intend to establish relationships based on distrust. I, on the other hand, prefer far more ... friendly approach." There was a fire, in his eyes. A fire that foretold doom. "No, my dear. What I offer are gifts, nothing I ask in return. What I receive is given to me only as a gesture of courtesy. Nothing more."
He made a small bow, bringing his head down to the level of the guest he had brought. Keno, and she was sure she was not the only one of her companions thinking this at that precise instant, had the impression that he intended to take one bite out of him. Instead, he only whispered something in his ear.
'That's too suspicious,' Keno considered. But had not Lord Suveria told them to trust him? Wasn't the wisdom of dragons well known? Or was it perhaps his intention to use Keno and the blue roses to assay the commonwealth's intentions? 'In the end, having had a comrade in common does not make us friends,' the little vampire found herself admitting.
A sentiment that, after a quick glance given to Lakyus, was easy to recognize as understood among all the women in their little company.
'But we are already on the ballet floor at this point. We just have to dance.' In another life, Keno had shown clumsy movements on more than one occasion, celebratory or festive. In another life, she would have continued to provoke her father's thunderous, hearty laughter and her mother's gentle rebukes. 'In this life, however, I could not choose and reject any of that.'
She noticed that Mairon was staring at her, scornfully. He held out his hand to her. "A penny for your thoughts. Don't you trust me?"
"Should I?" Keno asked, accepting it.
"You'd be a fool to do so," he wasn't lying, at least about that. They started walking toward their room, reserved in a small guesthouse off the beaten path and well away from prying eyes. Gagaran made herself the old turtle's escort, exchanging more than a courtesy gesture with him. The warrior had the unique ability to make herself as loved in daily life as she had to make herself feared on the battlefield, no matter what race she belonged to.
"This is not the first time she has dealt with non-humans," Lakyus commented. The young leader had a seemingly serene, and worry-free expression. It was a sign, to Keno, that something was wrong. "I think there were many, from where she came from. Or maybe they were simple magical beasts..." The leader of the Blue Rose drummed her thumb on her chin, trying to remember.
"More likely the latter," Keno said. "She comes from the mountains near the Draconic Kingdom, right? There, relations with other races are quite strained."
"Yes, I think so." Lakyus said, her blue eyes fixed on her sister -that's what she called her comrades- behind her. "In the end, we know a lot less about each other than we'd like to."
"It doesn't matter how much we know. The thorns of a rose are always there, even if covered by the petals. Yet, running the risk of pricking ourselves, we hold them in our hands to smell their fragrance." To savor the sweetness, one had to be prepared to reckon with the bitterness. Perhaps a foolish idea, out of time. Keno was sure that such reasoning had prompted Rigrit to give the team that name when she had founded it in a fit of curiosity.
Re-Estize had been Rigrit's land when it still had another name. And the woman had intended to protect it, even when she could no more. Even when the kingdom had changed its name and customs, and was no longer the image of what she had tried, and probably failed, to protect.
Keno, by contrast... But she did not regret her decision.
"Granny would have agreed with you," Gagaran had heard them, and she had assumed the same easygoing smile that colored her cheeks whenever she noticed being the center of attention. "We roses wither to shield, and lend a hand to anyone in need. Don't fret, little one. No one is here against their will."
The twins patrolled ahead of them, occasionally tapping their feet just right at a different pace from the gait they had been acquitting themselves of, or exchanging trivial phrases of circumstance to give each other directions.
"You humans are curious," Mairon said. He had detached himself from Keno, and started to open the door of the inn where they were staying. "You are at the bottom of the food chain, yet you act as if the top is a thing known to you. Unable to stay in your place, heedless of any consequences, one would almost say that you harbor veneration for pain and bask in suffering."
"The human spirit rhymes with contradictions," Keno replied unfazed. She did not know whether she should feel called upon. Part of her refused to be pigeonholed, another desperately yearned for it. "I do not claim to be a master of Commonwealth history, but blood and tenacity have inked your pages as well. The differences only highlight the commonalities."
The aran appeared to be on the verge to start a counter-argue, and in opening his mouth, the vampire could not help but notice that a bottomless pit might have been what connected the head to the rest of the body. "Perhaps you are right," he found himself saying in the end. "Not that it matters. We have more important things to think about, don't we? You guys need to find your old missing friend and I... need to find a way to negotiate a ceasefire with this hellhole." The current situation of the Commonwealth was nebulous, but as far as Keno could tell, the opening of a further front with the Witch King would have placed far too many strains on the alliance pact between various nations that made it up. "If only I could have a few more resources. What an ungrateful life..." the medals on Mairon's spangle were beginning to lose sparkle.
The first thing they did once they entered the room was to make the old turtle-man sit on a chair. Nothing special, but adequately sturdy and comfortable.
The second was to light a small cooker in the kitchen of the room. The fixtures were showing signs of time, and the frost was starting to become an unwelcome guest.
"Start telling us everything you know... now that I think about it, we don't even know your name," Lakyus reflected.
The turtle-man looked around, and for a moment it was safe to assume that he didn't even know where he was, yet Mairon was reassuring enough, with just a smile, a grin, to dispel his doubts.
"Thingol," he said, after a long pause. His voice was low, but with an almost musical tenderness. "Thingol is my name, fair maidens." The ring he wore emitted a small purple glow, and his wrinkle-covered skin took on a silky softness, as if that warmth turned back the clock to his youth.
"Pleased to meet you, Thingol," Lakyus spoke for them all. Even the twins offered a sweet grape juice to gladden his throat. Keno continued to remain aloof, casting suspicious glances at Mairon.
The aran was quick to catch them, and quicker to reciprocate with gestures of reassurance. He wasn't smoking, yet it was as if his face was shrouded in a mist that made it difficult to outline the contours.
"I'd say we can begin," Mairon pulled something out of his jacket pocket. A copper watch, whose hands stood still. "This will prevent unwanted ears from listening in." He pressed a button, and the hands began to move. "Ten minutes, that will have to do." The walls began to be enveloped in a very thin, colorless layer.
'Concealment magic in such a device?' Questions began to crop up in the vampire's mind. 'Should it be possible? Perhaps it is the material from which it was made? Doesn't seem like iron, or steel. Adamantium, perhaps? What other wonders does our comrade conceal from us?' Equally numerous were the answers Keno wished she could have provided. Priorities, unfortunately, demanded otherwise.
"It was a long time ago," Thingol began to recount, not waiting to be urged further. His pitch became unexpectedly quick and unhesitating. "Our previous emperor was a wise man, loved and well-liked by his subjects. Pharazon, the Fourth of his name, of the Malakar dynasty that has ruled these lands for centuries. The crown of the three stars had never had such a deserving ruler, and never had a more loved and, at the same time, respected man sat on the throne. From him and his bride, two beautiful children were born. Advising the royal family, the great dragon of the east ensured prosperity that we believed was eternal. Friendship and brotherhood were a normal thing here, unlike the rest of the outside world. Some even thought of renaming Sorsilia the Dragon Empire, in his honor. Although I always preferred its original designation: Empire of the Stars."
"He must be Lord Suveria's old friend," commented Keno. For now, everything corresponded to the summary information they had received from the Council of Argland and those small fragments they had managed to gather in Sorsilia. "Please, continue."
"Ah, of course. You see, not everything was obviously a paradise as one might think. The cloud giants living in the mountains surrounding the west borders continued to give us battle, as they had done relentlessly over the years. A conflict originating from the time of the first emperor and founder. A grudge that never subsided. Skirmishes without meaning, but which demanded a price to be paid in lives every year."
"I can understand the plight," Lakyus' head lowered, and for a feeble moment Keno had the impression that regret had taken control of her leader. "Having to bury one's dead is always a sad business, no matter what importance it has for the reason of state."
"A bitter truth, sweet lady," Thingol's lips closed. To open again, it took them a few seconds. "When he ascended the throne, the first action our emperor took was demands for a peace agreement, for such was the wish of Pharazon Malakar. The emissaries returned bringing only negative answers. That was expected, but not for that it was happy tidings. Then it was the turn of the search for a compromise, some might have said that our emperor was ready to bow his head in order to put an end to the matter once and for all, and they might have been right, perchance. But even that would have been a small price to pay, compared to having our beautiful, white snow continue to be stained with the blood of winter."
"A leader knows when it is time to put the welfare of his subjects before pride," Gagaran said with conviction. "To hell with absurd appearances and customs."
"But a leader must also know how to appear strong, so that enemies are not ready to take advantage of him," Keno continued. Old tutors and endless lessons were resurfacing clear in her mind. "I can imagine how that ended."
Thingol shook his head. "On the second refusal, it was time for war. I can still hear the bells heralding the great punitive expedition, intended to put an end to the conflict once and for all. We sounded the trumpets, that time. And we sounded the drums. And we made the steel sing, hoping we would hear the last song. The only one against it was the dragon of the east. Alas, only that time his words were not heeded. Thousands set out, towards the snowy mountains where the palaces of heaven lie."
"And how many returned?" Tina asked. Keno could already imagine the answer.
"Few, very few," if sadness had a precise tone of voice, it would certainly have been that. "We won the war, and the last lord of the storm was made subject. The crown of stars proved too powerful even for the mighty giants. But the price to pay was not small. Even the first prince was among the dispersed, leaving the Empire without a direct heir."
"Weren't there two, of heirs?"
"A prince, and a princess," the old demi-human's voice became gravelly. "One left this world without an heir, the other gave birth to a little child, fragile and ethereal as the night itself, beautiful and eternal as the moonlight, bearer of the blood of the first emperor. It was the first and only time the princess had ever waited for an heir, but all the luck seemed to be concentrated in the birth of that little miracle. Míriel was named, an ancient name whose meaning is found in what remains of the first emperor's language, of which only a few shards now remain. Jewel-daughter, if I am not mistaken. For her birth on a par with a treasure was considered."
"A decided line of succession, then... or was it uncertain?" Lakyus' question was influenced by history. Although not impossible, in Re-Estize it was difficult for the throne to pass to a woman, it didn't matter how suitable she was.
"The people had no doubts, nor did Pharazon. Or, at least, these were the sentiments in the open," Thingol replied. "The child was blood of his blood, loved by the officials for her intellect, and by the lowborn for her generosity. I was both, and I came to know each side of the medal." The pride with which he concealed his frailty broke, for that instant. "Her birth at the height of the war was seen as a sign of something new and renewed. She was... She is the direct heir to the throne of the stars."
"Why the hesitation, old man?" Keno inquired. That was the crucial node, where they could begin their work. "Because something has happened, or now we will not be here."
The old demi-human scratched his head, rocking back in his chair. "Yes...," he said at last, his voice again faint and falling. Until a few moments before he had seemed full of vitality, crackling with an energy that gave comfort with mere presence. "It happened... a few years ago. Two. Maybe three." Now, there was a melancholy that captured the chill of winter in his tone. Old age was an ugly beast, the only curse one could not escape. "The night the stars fell, the night the entire capital knew ruin, such as it had never known in centuries."
"What happened?" Gagaran placed a blanket on Thingol's shoulders, realizing he was shivering. An affectionate gesture, but perhaps unnecessary. It was not the climate that had provoked that reaction.
"Undead," that word was enough to bring a black cloud down over the room. Keno pricked up her ears. "The entire capital became the scene of an epidemic of the undead. No one was able to save themselves. Almost no one. Pharazon and his family, by all accounts, could not escape. Not even the Dragon of the East, some claim, escaped the disaster. I was away on a routine assignment in this very city. Something unimportant, fit for old bones like mine," he paused, or rather broke down, overwhelmed by something impossible to bear. "I have not set foot in the capital since. My beloved Elenion, with its snow-white marble and snow-capped spires." Little groans, which normally would have been the object of pity.
But for that, at the moment, there was no space.
"Wait... wait," Keno burst out. She was grateful for the cloak, which hid her clenched fists. "Are you really saying that, overnight, an entire capital city, made up of the most disparate races, with magical defenses and every other possible security measure, guarded by a dragonlord, fell victim to such a curse?" She was harried, almost as if she had traveled entire mountain ranges in the space of a few hours. Her breathing became heavy, and the taste of vomit, long unknown, became strangely familiar in her mouth.
Lakyus placed a hand on her shoulder, without adding anything else, to calm her down. Gagaran and the twins looked at her with a gaze they had never laid on her before. For Keno, however, only one thing existed at that moment.
"It seems hard to believe, but it is so," Mairon, who had remained silent until that instant, promptly exclaimed. "It is the same news reported by our informants. An entire city full of life, which becomes a source of death after a simple snap of the fingers. Hard to believe, and yet... But someone was spared, were they not, my friend?"
Thingol hesitated. "Míriel... The princess and last heir was still there, waiting alone. Trapped among specters and ghosts, with only bones to keep her company. "
Keno was on the verge of laughter. 'History is destined to repeat itself. But he... he is supposed to be dead.' "And then, what happened? How could the princess avoid such a fate?" It was the only thing she managed to ask.
The demi-human looked around confused. Was he still conscious, or was it the vampire who was out of that world? The vision was beginning to blur, and her mind clouded. "There was chaos. The nobility was divided, between those who tried to retake the capital, and the crown of stars with it, and those who announced the end of the Malakar dynasty. What was that but a sign that the stars had abandoned their support for those who had ruled us for so long? Years of war and division, between those who for so long had finally known a semblance of tranquility."
"And it was at that moment that the Witch King appeared," Mairon continued for him. "You see, my dear ladies. One of our protectorates, not a few leagues away from the borders with Sorsilia, was attacked by one of the self-styled new emperors. Nothing consolidates one's rule but a good military victory. A classic example taken from the good despot's handbook. The protectorate was small, and defenseless, but there was a treaty ensuring peace with Sorsilia, and we had no doubt that old Pharazon was a man of his word. Such gentlemen, unfortunately, are rare to find."
"Yes... I believe that was the case," Thingol fiddled with the ring between his fingers. "You must excuse me, but the crux of old age is to remember events of years gone by with sharpness, and to confuse what one had for breakfast."
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
"How did the Witch King appear?" Tina's impassive expression was a jigsaw enigma missing a piece.
"It's not every day a being like that appears out of nowhere." Tia shared her sister's puzzlement.
Keno's eyes pointed at Mairon. The aran shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows," there was... a particular way the wolf-man dealt with the matter. "The contingent we sent routed the usurper, and we thought we could get into the capital to see what was going on. And lo and behold, out of nowhere, this enigmatic figure appears, wiping out a quarter of our army, causing the remainder to flee in utter terror. The crown of the three stars had already been claimed by this mysterious figure, and with it his immense power." One could almost have said that he was reporting events in which he himself had been a participant.
"Did your golems also take part in the conflict?" The vampire was highly curious to test what their new comrade's response would be.
Mairon's mouth fangs took it as an invitation to show themselves. "I see that you are many informed, even in remote corners of these lands." Then, in the same manner as uninvited guests, they retreated to their perch, in the dark. "No, our golems were busy with another... operation. Nothing to do with our current mission." He assumed a friendly smile.
Thingol nodded. "In any case," he resumed. "The Witch King followed the triumph with blood. All the numerous pretenders were exterminated, or subdued. The latter event… was far more rare." The ring continued to glow, with a violet light that calmed all spirits. The shadows on the walls looked as if they were in a frenzy. "It was he who discovered Princess Mìriel in the capital, trapped there for who knows how long, organizing a private wedding ceremony in great secrecy. At the very thought, my heart aches." And it was true, for the contempt that oozed from his eyes was untainted by lies.
"So he legitimized his claim to the throne, but are you sure the princess is all right?" The question seemed to have struck Lakyus deep down. The hero saving the princess locked in the tower was a classic in swashbuckling stories.
But Keno knew that stories were such for a reason.
"On that I can answer," Mairon said. "At least once a week the princess shows herself to the new officials, specially chosen from the remaining noble families. The capital has been cleansed, and new immigrants come from everywhere to bring it back to the old population. Although... you may have noticed that talking about the new regime is not very... wise."
"So the new emperor has been accepted," despite her words, Gagaran did not sound very convinced. "There's still a lot that's not clear to me, and trying to put the pieces back together seems like a big headache." Normally, a fat laugh would have followed that statement. This time, there was only a dejected sigh. "First of all, I don't understand the question of religions. Judging from the abandoned churches we noticed on our travels, there was a certain pluralism of ideas. Now, however, the mere idea of a different faith seems to terrify them."
Keno thought back to the horsemen they had seen earlier in the square, and the prisoners they brought with them. 'Chains with arcane symbols. Perhaps... priests of an old cult?' Gagaran was right. 'But more than anything, what is the Witch King's connection to the blasphemous sinner? Tsa, Riku... that it's not over yet?'
"Me, I don't think I can help you much on that," Thingol said, heartbroken. "As you said, in private one is still allowed to exercise one's faith. But proselytizing and participating in public life... are strictly forbidden. That is all I know, and all the other inhabitants probably wouldn't be able to tell you more."
"Don't speak. They hide in whispers..." Lakyus' shadow grew strangely larger than normal. "Are they here?" She looked around, and Keno noticed that the fingers had moved dangerously close to Kilineraim.
Only the seven of them. And their shadows. No one else.
"Wraiths..." Tia's body was struck with a tremor. "Clerical magic drives them away..." Tina followed her sister, as she always did.
Keno wondered if this was the key to the answer. In the room, the shadows remained impassive. Not even the wind was blowing. The stove fire was beginning to die out, leaving only gray ash.
"We're done here," Mairon closed his pocket watch. The walls returned to normal. "I will take Thingol back home, and prepare some supplies. We leave tomorrow morning at dawn." Staying in one place for too long could be risky. "I hope this informative story has eased your concerns. There is no turning back from here."
"Be careful," Keno warned. "You don't know what's lurking out there."
"The shadows, my dear." He closed the door, taking Thingol with him. "It's always the shadows."
----------------------------------------
Franklin, City State Alliance
The lounge was packed with guests.
In the background was soothing and pleasant music, enough to relax the spirit but not annoying enough to disturb the thoughts. The notes glided on the piano, in a rhythm that followed a defined circle.
The armchair in which Antilene was sitting was so comfortable that the prospect of getting up already exhausted her.
"Would you like something to drink, honored guest?" There were so many waiters. At least one for each pair of guests, so it was natural that one would approach her as well. "Compliments of our master."
"What do you have to offer?" Antilene listlessly analyzed the tray, holding back a yawn. She had slept enough on the arrival journey, but such was the calmness of that hotel that closing her eyes a second time, and perhaps a third, was damn tempting. "I'd appreciate something strong, now that I think better of it. Something to keep you wide awake."
The waiter, a man in his thirties with a look devoid of any distinguishing features, approached the tray towards her, pointing to some of the glasses that sat on it. "Devil's Fire is an excellent choice. It is a whiskey aged for almost a century in the oak barrels of the former Emperor of Baharuth; with its strong alcohol content, it is in its refined and demanding taste that its qualities lie. The previous emperor of Baharuth offered it to his guests, to taste their nobility, for only those with blue blood running through their veins could truly appreciate it."
"An amusing anecdote, I wonder if it is also true." But she would have bet not. There were more effective methods of controlling someone's blood.
"Alternatively," the waiter continued undaunted, "we have the Knight's Tears. A velvety brandy, with a slight infusion of tamarind, made from the produce of the Queen of Ris's vineyards. It boasts the appreciation of the famous Dark Knight of the Thirteen Heroes, and it is believed that it was the famous champion himself who came up with the recipe, going so far as to be moved even the half-demon once he tasted it for the first time, such was its intensity. Only a second time did such an event occur in history. Many were those who were moved to tears after just one taste."
"Let's go for the second option," Antilene grabbed her glass before the waiter could serve her. The man, unaccustomed to such celerity, found himself stunned for a few moments, but was nonetheless diligent in handing her a napkin. "You are dismissed. And point out that I have been waiting a long time. I would appreciate being received as soon as possible."
The waiter lowered his head, and walked away, disappearing into the throng, not giving the half-elf time to even bring the glass to her lips.
As she sipped, noting with great displeasure that her eyes had remained dry, Antilene considered how different the atmosphere was compared to the city she had recently left, Karnasus.
People laughed light-heartedly, and exchanged pleasantries with equal ease. One wondered whether they were unaware of the war that was brewing, once again, even more furiously, only a few kilometers away from them, or whether they were well aware of it, and had simply decided to live in happiness today, to leave worries to tomorrow.
Amongst the various activities taking place, for there were many and varied ways in which the staff did their utmost to avoid the absurd and absolutely inconceivable disaster that would be leaving their guests unentertained for even a moment, the half-elf was drawn to a young painter. A dwarf with a thick beard, whose brush colors had spilled absent-mindedly through his hair, giving his face a clownish appearance, was intent on tracing the lines that painted a young woman of evident high lineage, who giggled after each of his brushstrokes.
The panel was finished in no time, to be handed over to the one who had lent herself as a model. There were bows to each other, and just as quickly the two parted, not after the girl had slipped a few silver coins into the artist's lusty hands. The dwarf began to look around, probably, or rather, Antilene was sure, in search of a new muse, and paying customer.
Eventually, he approached her.
"Allow me to introduce myself," he said. "I have the good fortune to be Peseudonio Auristogima, of the free cities of East Gait. Madam, I will be frank, your beauty is dazzling," there were no accents or inflections in the way he spoke, yet to the half-elf his expression had something alien about it. "I noticed that you were giving quick and curious glances at my work. Let me try to pay homage to such a divine loveliness with a demonstration of my skills," the dwarf lowered himself so low that he could have called the floor his lover, so close were his lips to it. "A couple of silver coins, enough to pay for the paints and canvas, and a few minutes of your time, nothing more I ask. The price is almost a humiliation for me and my peers, yet it would be a very good deal, of that I am sure. For me, especially."
Antilene gave him a look devoid of any consideration. She finished her drink, calmly. "I don't wish for my image to... spread easily, to put it frankly. And besides, I'm afraid I don't have enough time to model for such high aspirations." In fact, part of her couldn't help but be flattered by such a proposal. Duty, however, was not married to pleasure, and vanity was a fickle mistress. Easy to please, hard to forsake. "I'm afraid you'll have to find another inspiration for your next masterpiece, maestro." She tried to have a consoling, calm tone, just enough so that hers was not mistaken for impertinence.
"On the first point, you have nothing to fear. Not only will I produce a single copy, which will be delivered into your hands, but the style I am spokesperson for is far from mere superficial portraits. I paint the essence, or at least that is what I like to believe. What the eyes and body hide, and the soul reveals, this I try to portray." In ambition, at least, he was very big. "As for time and modeling, I just need to draw a few intermediate lines, to serve as a skeleton for the work. It won't take more than a few minutes. Once the work is done, I will send it to an address of your preference.."
The dwarf could be persuasive, and the lack of activity was beginning to make waiting annoying for Antilene.
"Alright, but only a few minutes," the half-elf stood up, finding herself more numb than she had imagined. "And I want the only original," she approached him, towering over him. "If you lie, I will know." The half-elf's lips joined in a straight line, with the brandy still permeating them. A drop fell to the ground, in tune with the melody the piano continued to compose.
"...Certainly," for both of them, the opportunity to repent had passed. "If you wish to follow me." He led her to a secluded corner of the lounge.
Now that she could look around more clearly, Antilene glimpsed other painters painting for guests. That part of the hall was certainly reserved for such activity, and the feeling that she had only been prey to greedy proselytizing, in insight not very convincing, made its way into the half-elf's mind.
'But now I have accepted... I certainly can't back out.' The stool on which she sat was quite comfortable, Antilene noted. The pose she assumed was natural enough, she thought. 'Hands on your legs, and looking to the right... I think that's the position indicated.' Experience dictated uncertainty, and the references she could rely on were scattered but nebulous.
The books that had constituted her studies had brought back images from time to time, but nothing that could give her a clear idea of what her role in all that must have been. The stories she used to read, on the other hand, much preferred to leave room for the imagination, justifying with poetic license those rare illustrations that, rather than reality, looked to idealized renditions of the heroes and their deeds.
"Perfect. Stay like that for just a little longer," Peseudonius traced quickly, leaving Antilene's doubts in the air. "We're almost done... just a little more."
No one was paying attention to them. Indeed, there was no doubt that someone was merely aware of their existence at that moment. Yet... yet for Antilene that was certainly a feeling that overflowed from the ordinary. To be the protagonist of one's own story, at that moment, was a truth that became overwhelmingly concrete.
When she had killed her father and exacted her revenge, she had put an end to the tale, starting with what should have been the end. Then, events had gone as if backwards, to fill in those aspects that seemed to be missing.
The princess had been courted by the prince, had rid the city of monsters, and now found her beauty celebrated by artists and poets.
'A pattern, woven out of endless events, reproducing as many designs. Beginning, unfolding, conclusion. Mixed together, the conclusion has already been presented, and the unfolding seems only a new beginning.' A story, in the end, remained just a story. 'When I slay the Equestrian King, that too will herald a new rebirth. Or perhaps it will be I who will fall, thereby marking the end of the tale.' The prospect caused her no displeasure, unexpectedly. Was that what it meant to be at peace with oneself? 'To be small, and weak, is not as bad as you might think.'
Antilene was calm. She had closed her eyelids, and the soothing stillness of the darkness almost made her feel like she was floating on that sea.
"Your Excellency Fouche?" An unfamiliar voice distracted her from her musings. An elf addressed her with such solemnity and respect, playing with bowing, reverence and celebration, that Antilene thought she had entered an unfamiliar dream. "My master is ready to receive you. If you will do me the courtesy of following me, I will lead you to him immediately."
"Yes," the half-elf rose, and turned to the dwarf. "Master, are we done here?"
"I have enough material," he replied. "One week, not much longer, and I will have it delivered."
Antilene approached and handed a handful of silver coins into the pouch he carried at his side. "Do a good job, and take your time. I will wait for it at the royal palace of Karnasus." Then, she turned on her heel and followed the newcomer, glancing fleetingly at the artist's shocked expression.
The elf, fair-skinned like moonlight, proved to be of few words, fortunately for them both. He led her diligently towards a spiral staircase, which stretched for dozens of floors, connected to a corridor on which a long red carpet stretched. The walls were bare, but every now and then a sculpture, usually with female features, could be seen enlivening the ambience that little bit.
When they arrived, the half-elf was sure they were in the highest part of the hotel.
"Please take a seat," the elf opened the door to what must have been a particularly important study. Of papers and documents, the shelves were full. At the sides, a few doors connected to other rooms indicated that it was only a small part of the whole. "My master awaits you." A faint scent of lavender tickled Antilene's nose.
"Thank you very much," she took just a few steps, before coming face to face with the one who was waiting for her.
Sitting at a large desk, intent on writing and writing on a large pile of papers, an old man, skinny like a pin, raised his head the moment he saw her coming. "Lady Fouche, is it?" He immediately stopped what he was doing, but continued to keep a firm grip on the griffon feather he still had dipped in ink. "It is a great honor to make your acquaintance. Although we have met before, I don't think you will remember. Let me introduce myself: Philo Orestes, current first merchant of the Franklin merchant's guild, and council member of the executive assembly of our beloved city."
"I don't think I recall, to my regret," said the half-elf. "Memory has never been my pride and joy."
The merchant squared her, almost as if she had been a delivered commodity, to be valued and priced. "I had the pleasure of seeing the show of strength you made against Satrap Tiribazus," he smoothed his long black goatee, the last leathery remnant of black in a thick patch of hair that had long since lost all other color. "Frankly, I never thought I'd see that puffball reduced like that, a... delightful spectacle. Of course, at the time I considered it pure and simple madness."
"One man's folly is another man's wisdom, or so many say," and those many were Antilene. "Have you changed your mind? Or do you still think that continuing the conflict with the Equestrian King is foolhardy?"
Philo continued to look at her, but there was something akin to indifference this time in his gaze. That, or something else. Something far more visceral, masked as emptiness. "I am not a warrior. Armies, battles, glory. These are concepts I prefer to leave to others. And it is a belief I share with many of my peers. Every situation that comes before me is approached with a simple, single question, the cornerstone of my future: 'what do I have to gain from this'? War is a risky business, very profitable at first, but more dangerous with every passing second. I am a simple person; I play to win. The taste of the challenge is important up to a point. When I invest, I also have to know in advance the best time to stop."
"Then is it a game for you?" A risky philosophy, no doubt. A fitting reward would have been the conclusion of it. "But it is not a solitary pastime, yours. The consequences affect many."
When he smiled, the merchant relaxed every muscle in his face, taking on an unexpectedly benevolent air. "You are a queen, if I am not mistaken. The forest of Evasha, I have heard of it. Forgive my frankness, but I have never held great regard for that territory."
'That makes two of us.' "One has to be a great lover of nature to appreciate its lush greenery," Antilene said. "It is not rich in gold or silver, but in trees and fruit."
"I have no trouble believing that," but what lay behind his eyes proclaimed otherwise. "In any case, as queen you should know the grave responsibilities that are placed upon a leader. Countless depend on you and your decisions. Likewise, my employees prosper when I prosper, and the wealth I accumulate is not meant to be stored, but redistributed and circulated. Tell me, is it not better for a man to continue his duty and realize his aspirations through work, and not by giving up his life on a battlefield?"
When someone knew he was in the right, he was ready to defend his ideas tooth and nail. When he was in the wrong, the difference was hard to notice.
"Perhaps," Antilene let her soft breath mirror her state of mind. "What did the Equestrian King offer you?"
Philo pulled out some cigars from the desk. "A near monopoly on New Orcleans carrots. I've been trying to grab those delicacies for years, with little result. The magic formula with which the soils are cultivated gives outsized beneficial effects to horses, but Franklin's guild of magicians has never been able to reproduce the same effects. I could sell them in exorbitant quantities to the nobles of the Empire and Re-Estize." He lit one of the cigars, slowly beginning to gasp. He offered another to Antilene.
The half-elf accepted. The taste of the smoke was not to her taste, but it delighted her to produce gray circles in the air, for how childish it was.
"And, I take it given my presence here, that you did not accept." As to how that concession had been promised, there was not much to investigate. "Prince Alexander relies heavily on your help. Orcleans is siding with the Equestrian King, in all but name. As I understand it, should Franklin also decide to turn against Karnasus, the war will be definitely lost."
Heavy smoker, that Philo. He had only coughed once, but the ashtray was already starting to fill up. "Words and promises are very nice when they are made, but of little use when they do not take form. Not even a magical contract, sealed with curses and counter-curses, could change the factual reality. As long as New Orcleans is free, so will be my allegiance," which hinted that a timer had been placed on his cooperation. A directness that made it easy to bargain with him. "Now, until a few weeks ago I would have gladly taken the risks, knowing full well that these were minimal. And so would many other guilds, not only in Franklin. Can you blame me, perchance? The Union had lost battle after battle, the city renowned for military strength had fallen, and only Ris still seemed able to mount adequate resistance. But alone... not even that old hag could have done much."
The worst thing? There was only truth in his words. A powerful medium for one's arguments. Hard to disprove, even harder to counter.
"And what changed your mind, may I ask?"
"Is there any need to?" The man felt almost offended by that question. "You, Lady Fouche." Nevertheless, he replied amused, crushing what was left of the cigar, very little, against the ashtray.
"Your praise is certainly appreciated," yet, for the half-elf, so sincere did sound his praises as was perceptible their hollowness. "But I believe there has been an overestimation. My contribution has been modest, of little account. A part, a very small part, of the valor with which the heroes of Karnasus were soaked. Have you read Prince Alexander's proclamation? Well, I can assure you that everything went exactly as therein declared."
Philo drummed his thumb, erratically. Small noises, almost imperceptible, but the absence of a rhythm, of a structure, were irritation and nuisance to Antilene's ear. When one was aware that something was missing, no matter how insignificant, a natural reaction was to search for it, to restore it to its natural wholeness.
"I read it, yes. And let me say that I have my doubts about the veracity of those events. Professional bias, if you please. Until I assess the goods with my own eyes, I am disinclined to trust." Of the first cigar, only ash remained. Of the second that had been taken, fate would soon be the same. "One thing I do know though," how much sweat could pivot on a man's forehead? Antilene could get an idea of what was the maximum reachable, at that moment. "From the moment you entered, Lady Fouche, I could feel my insides twisting, and a blade pointed at my neck. In the other rooms, there are at least a dozen personal guards, carefully chosen for their long years of service and usefulness to me over the years. And, in addition, you are unarmed."
"Are you trying to threaten me?" Antilene had not yet finished smoking, but even that had grown tiresome to her. The cigar, still half whole, was extinguished, and became a pastime for her fingers. "Words are wind, and the wind is inclined to change direction. Where do you think it will blow soon?"
"Mercy, no," hastily assured the trader. He laughed, to reassure himself. He laughed, to try to reassure her. "If they are as good as I think they are, every single soldier in my service will have resigned at least a few minutes ago, leaving only dust and equipment as the last pledge of their loyalty." When he saw that the half-elf shared his good mood, he appeased his spirit. "I said I don't involve myself in battles, but that doesn't mean I don't have my share of experiences. I have sponsored many champions in Union sports games, and I like to believe that I have trained my eye to recognise talent."
"And you think I have the makings of a champion?" Antilene asked curiously. "I have had the pleasure of watching Sir Niles and his team at work, and I regret to say that my skills do not even compare to theirs."
"Niles, a great warrior," agreed Philo. "But… As I like to pretend, I keep risks to a minimum. I would stake my entire fortune on you, even if the minotaur were to be covered in the Union's greatest treasures, and you were to be armed only with that half-burnt cigar."
"Too kind."
"It's not about goodness. There is a reason I specifically requested your presence here at my proposal to Prince Alexander, my lady." Philo clapped his hands, and the elf who had acted as chaperone, and who had been waiting behind the door in the corridor, entered gracefully. "It is time. Go and fetch what I have told you."
"Will you be safe, here alone, my lord?" The elf was a fountain of worry. Antilene smiled at him, but could not calm his agitation.
"Do as I told you," Philo blurted out. There was no need to repeat anything else. "Not that your presence could change much." There was no need to say more, the elf had already rushed off.
"He is a very devoted servant," Antilene noted. "You must be pleased. Even though there is nothing for you to fear, he was ready to make sure you were safe."
"He is devoted to my money," Philo replied with conviction. "As I explained to you earlier, the coinage guarantees loyalty. The bonds of honor and chivalry are wonderful, but unreliable. Golden ones, of real gold I mean, are perhaps shabbier, but much more effective. One of the methods I most trust to bind me to others."
"And the others?"
"By blood, of course. But it doesn't surprise me that you didn't think about it." Philo had finished smoking, and his demeanor had resumed a semblance of decency. "I have done my research, Lady Fouche. Your origins can be traced to the Theocracy of Slaine, if I am not mistaken. A great place, I'm told. Full of wonders to be discovered. Wonders like you."
"There are worse places in the world, I guess," replied Antilene, with unexpected, for her, good humor. "But I assure you that I am nothing compared to the magnificent cathedrals of Silksuntecks or the natural views of the six mountains surrounding the capital. And although I have never been there, I have heard that the Bay of the Gods lives up to its name in terms of spectacle. And the temples of the paladins in the south, or the tournaments of the holy knights of the faith in the east..." Funny, the more she spoke, the more the half-elf became aware that there was much she had only heard about, and had not seen with her own eyes. Instinctively, she felt like touching her ears, only to encounter thick layers of hair. 'Something is missing.' But she couldn't figure out what.
"Of that, I have no doubt. I have had the pleasure of trading with some of your countrymen, and extolling the praises of your homeland is a gift I can see you have in common," small, black eyes, which did not let anything out, watched Antilene. "But that was not what I was referring to. Secrets, how many are you hiding? What have you hidden in those sky-defying cathedrals? Are the clouds a suitable place to hide your treasures?"
"Knowledge is power," said Antilene. Once upon a time, there was nothing, then came light, and fire. Greed followed close behind. "That which is concealed, is left far from the gaze of those who cannot understand. My existence was a secret. A blasphemy, and a miracle. Of wonderful things, bringing light where there was darkness, and giving meaning to tragedy, I have seen many. The blood with which I have been stained has not soiled my blade, nor have the moon and the sun stopped moving at my will. The Theocracy is my home, Evasha my origin. Nevertheless, the Union is where I now find myself standing. Look at me, and tell me," she approached him, so that they could meet eyes. "What do you see?"
Philo's dry lips trembled. Saliva and hesitation wet their flesh. "Nothing. I see nothing." For there was nothing to see.
"I'm just a girl, like so many others you might find, going down the streets." It didn't matter how tender, how exquisite... a lie remained a lie. And what falsehoods could not change, neither would she.
"It's a shame..." The merchant was a man who had everything. For such a kind, nothingness was not contemplated. Breathing in, the bones of his ribcage showed off, giving his body an even more fragile air. "We could do so much, together. There is nothing worse than those who do not exploit their potential."
"Such is life. You don't always get what you want." Antilene, however, had reclaimed it. "Right of birth, right of conquest. Meaningless justifications. It's just luck, in the end."
There was a knock at the door.
Philo gave permission to open it.
The servant returned to the room, accompanied by a knight clad in splendid white armor, enclosed by a blue cloak. A swan on a crystal lake towered over the emblem of his chain mail. At his side, a girl hid shyly, barely reaching to touch her protector's side.
"Enter, my dear. Don’t be shy," the girl approached with a graceful step at the invitation of Philo, gracefully raising the hem of the yellow dress she wore. "Allow me to introduce my daughter, Lady Fouche. Eleina is the light of my life and, I hope, will soon be the same for Prince Alexander . Many things I expect from her."
Even seated, Antilene towered over her. 'A dwarf?’ She asked herself. But the diaphragm of the girl was extremely minute, and the face had not even known the passage of childhood acne, so smooth and perfect was it. Mind you, that of early hair. It was the beard that made the dwarf, or so the saying went. A beardless dwarf was not impossible, but it was not the case of that petite maiden. 'A halfling, perhaps? What a rarity. But the father...'
Philo was extremely thin. So much so, that deprived of a few more kilos he would have attracted the attention of all the clerics in the neighborhood, ready to exorcize him on the spot. Without any doubt, however, he was human through and through.
"Is she really your daughter?" Antilene asked curiously. Eleina drew back, uncomfortable at that question. The knight stepped forward, but added nothing.
"Not by blood," Philo explained. "But I took her in when she was still in swaddling clothes. You see, my lady, my wife and I were never fortunate enough to have natural children. The gods, probably realizing the great bounty they had bestowed on us in much else, were stingy with such gifts. Perhaps, however, it was a disguised blessing. Eleina is everything a father could wish for."
"I thank you, father," another bow, more ungainly. Shaking must have been a family custom, if not passed down through blood, handed down according to habit. "I will do my best to meet your expectations, and those of my future spouse." Eleina’s voice was as faint as her body was. That the windows had remained barred was a good fortune, or a sudden gust of wind could have swept her away.
"I meant no disrespect," Antilene apologized. "I was just amazed. I thought halflings had long since disappeared from this part of the world. If my studies were fruitful, they had a small kingdom bordering the present Draconic Kingdom. Since the beastmen devoured it, in every sense, traces of them have also been lost."
"Eleina is not from these parts of the world, but I do not intend to bore you, Lady Fouche." Philo looked at her daughter, and everything was in the way he looked at her, except love. Antilene wondered if it was the same way her mother looked at her, a long time ago. "Rather, now that I have had the chance to get to know our new... ally better, I no longer have any doubts as to where my alliance will lie. The marriage will be celebrated soon, and I have therefore to ask you, Lady Fouche, what are you going to do? I had asked for your cooperation, and I find myself confessing that I could never demand anything that you did not wish to do." Pleadingly, but with a certain dignity.
"You mean about the requested escort?" Prince Alexander had mentioned it as the main reason for that meeting.
"There will be no need for it," the knight burst out.
The large helmet disguised his countenance, but did not conceal his thoughts. One of the arms approached the hilt of a sword, the free one reached out to shield the maiden. "My lord, I have sworn to lay down my life in defense of my lady. Do not let a stranger endanger your daughter's life."
Eleina blushed. Her freckle-covered cheeks grew even redder, claiming scarlet as her natural hue.
Her father, on the other hand, remained devoid of emotion, like a corpse. "You are but a hedge knight, Dionegis. Just as I freed you from misery, I can send you back to it." Philo's voice became unyielding. "You will do as you are ordered, are we clear?"
The knight remained in his position, but had nothing to counter it. “As my master commands.” The steel of his armor creaked, but other signs of protest did not follow.
"Forgive me for this unfortunate spectacle," the merchant hastened to bow his head. "I hope my subordinate's impertinence has not offended you, Lady Fouche. Free them from slavery, give them a hot meal and great treasures, but a servant will always remain a servant. Unfortunate."
"You have no need to worry," once again, Antilene found herself acting as a peacemaker. "He protects what is dear to him, not being afraid of the consequences. Is this not the code that knights are expected to follow?" Philo emitted a snort of approval, unwillingly "Returning to your request, I must in any case return to Karnasus. Riding part of the way with your daughter will certainly not be inconvenient, nor will giving her a watch to prevent unpleasant incidents from occurring."
"Thank you, Lady Fouche," Eleina's blonde hair moved with their mistress. A golden gust almost touched the half-elf as the maiden's devotion reached her "I will do my utmost not to be a burden to you."
"I am sure you will," Antilene urged her to rise, before she disappeared from her sight. Small as she was, Eleina could vanish only by crouching down. "What are the dangers that make you fear for the safety of your daughter, venerable Orestes? Certainly I have no doubt that it is not only bandits that bring you concern."
"Certainly not," if shame could have taken human form, that of Philo Orestes would have been the most suitable choice. "I am somewhat embarrassed, but as fierce and passionate as my involvement has been, not all of Franklin's guilds are of my opinion, regarding this possible alliance. Rivalry is the soul of commerce, and many of my business associates would gladly accept the proposals of the Equestrian King. And not just them... Many other cities harbor traitors ready to discourage this union, by any means available. Orcneas and the magistrate Kostas foremost among them.”
"I had the pleasure of meeting him," the image of the apeman covered in silky robes flashed through her mind, and Antilene couldn't help but feel a modicum of irritation, as annoyed as she was by it "Why should that monkey care about a possible alliance between Franklin and Karnasus?"
"Don't be too hard on the magistrate," there was an unexpected reverence and amiability in Philo's words. Friendship, even. "Orcneas has been the main port of the Union for years, and a pact with the Great Plains would allow them to cross the Narrow Sea, circumnavigating the great rivers that pass through those territories, and take their trade to the northern and central part of the world, to Sorsilia, to the Federation of Delos, all the way to the center, skimming the borders of the Commonwealth."
"It's all about money, in the end." The half-elf was not surprised, but she could not help but be disappointed. "Is that the price of betrayal?"
"It is always a matter of money, my lady," Philo said, convinced of what he was claiming. "But, in this case, there is even more. Orcneas has always relied on the protection of the Union, and this protection is now fragile. There was a company of sellswords serving the city, the Azure Blades they were called, but they were exterminated in the early stages of the war. And if their navy is still strong, I fear the Equestrian King's invasion will not come from the sea. Don't be too hard on magistrate Kostas. Orcneas has also lost much from the war. The Brave himself, brotherly friend of Prince Alexander, was originally captain of the Azure Blades. He and his twin were rumored to be descendants of the sea princess' famous crystal warriors, but now they too are dead."
The argument was convincing, but not for that reason could Antilene say she was persuaded. "I'll let the Union deal with possible internal disagreements. Are you afraid they might engage someone in particular?"
"... Ijaniya," the knight replied. "We suspect that they have requested the services of Ijaniya." He had removed his helmet, revealing a young face, partly covered by thick silver hair. Large violet eyes rested on the half-elf, peering into the unknown. "Is this perhaps a problem for you?"
Antilene raised her hands. "Baharuth's famous guild of assassins. It might be more interesting than I think. But I hear their services are very expensive. How could our mysterious enemies have hired them?" The economic situation of the Union cities, after long years of war, should have been tested. And even Antilene knew how much a job well done would cost.
This time, it was Philo who spoke. "The Equestrian King still has a lot of resources." An insinuation did not constitute a well-founded accusation, but it was not for that reason bereft of implications. "I am afraid of what might happen. As a further precaution, I have arranged for my daughter and I to separate during the journey, so as to confuse any assailants."
'And to keep your hide safe,' cynicism contaminated Antilene's mind, like a devious poison. 'If your daughter should die on the journey, what have you been promised? No. Do you intend to test me, old man? You never bet on the loser, do you? Better men than you have already tried, I am afraid...'
The half-elf began to make her way towards the exit. She laid a hand on Eleina's shoulder. Never had she truly understood how large her palm could be. "You will have nothing to fear, for I will be there."
The young girl began to shake, but tried to stand firm. "I know." The knight protecting her stopped, taking her gently by the hands.
"It is time to go, my lady," he said, and there was a natural tenderness in his tone. "Lady Fouche, if I have been abrupt, it is because my lady's life is more important to me than anything in this world." A sincere apology, though soured by a pride tyrannized by youth. Unexpectedly, Eleina did not blush, but thanked her protector with a sincere, and crystal-clear smile. "I beg you to excuse my rudeness.But I will be frank in admitting that I would have no problem repeating this regrettable behavior, should my lady be offended, in any way. "
"Having someone, or something, to protect is very important," of this, Antilene was of unyielding conviction. "I could never hold a grudge against those who put their own safety and reputation at risk, just for the sake of others. You have nothing to excuse. Protect me too, during the journey."
"I will," Dionegis replied with conviction. "My vigil will be less exhausting, knowing that you are with us."
"Lady Fouche, I hope we can become friends," Eleina said. The girl's clear eyes were like dazzling gems, which could move even the hardest of hearts to emotion. Prince Alexander had been lucky.
'And one man's luck could be another's misfortune,' Antilene found herself considering, looking at the swan knight. "We shall become such," the half-elf promised, leaving those considerations to herself. "Indeed, I would say we are already well on our way." They shared a short laugh, a seed that might germinate into something more, one day. "Venerable Orestes, I count on seeing you at the wedding."
"I look forward to nothing more. I know my expectations will not be disappointed." Philo was already back in the thick of his work, perhaps realizing that he had neglected it far too much. The tip of the griffon feather began to darken. "Dionegis will pick you up around dawn."
"He will find me ready."
Antilene took her leave, returning to the lounge. It had partly emptied, and moonlight quietly leaked through the large windows. The music had stopped, and only the few remaining guests whispered unknown words, almost like an invocation to the star in the sky.
Looking up to the moon, Antilene had the feeling that she was being watched. She remained alone, in her night.