The past converges...
The Duke took a very deep breath. He was a servant of Huul, he dealt with Fiends, and so he steeled his heart for more dire news. “Yes!” he stated grimly.
“Your daughter’s nanny is a doppelganger, placed to watch over the Hagchild.” His hand crackled on his Saber.
Then Hazé turned and looked at the Duchess, her fingers spreading in the beginnings of a spell. “And your wife is a Poison Heart Warlock.”
Despite himself, the Duke froze. His incredulous eyes turned to the woman who shared his bed, his life, the matron of his family.
“My Lord!” protested the Duchess, taking a step back, her face still calm and composed. “She is merely using these events to cover a greater lie! Do not believe this!”
“You’re a Powered in your prime years, but you no longer have a period, because Poison Heart Warlocks are sterile. Ergo, no more children,” Hazé continued calmly. “By Consuming the Duchess, you can imitate her Casting ability... but you cannot improve on it, so you’ve not improved at all in the past six years. I believe she was a Sorceress? You cannot even swap spells out.” Hazé touched the silver crescent at her throat. “As she had an Infernal bloodline, your Pact won’t react to hellfire, which would normally reveal it. But there will be no concealing the demonfire if you are touched by moonfire, Warlock.”
Hazé’s moon symbol lit up, and moonfire shot out from her hand... at the Duke, who was startled enough for it to strike him in the chest.
Instantly the devil chi in his chest roared up at the anathemic energy, enveloping his body and chasing away the white moonfire that tasted of holy power.
“My Lord...” the Duchess spoke up, worry coming up in her eyes, seeing her husband standing there, now fully covered in the flames of the Damnation Heart.
“Such a trifling will do no harm to my Lady,” Duke Gilderalz said flatly, staring at her with eyes that had lost all emotion.
Her hands came up, and magic sparked, failed as stars went off on Hazé’s fingers and stopped whatever magic she was about to wield. A spray of moonfire washed over her.
Puke yellow-green-black demonfire howled up from her to fight it off, while hollow, empty hellfire flickered at the ends of her fingers.
She knew her disguise was done, and lifted her hands to call on her powers-
The Execution of Nessus came down on her left shoulder, exited through her right hip. Hellfire exploded throughout her body, and demonfire raged up in protest. Her eyes had just enough time to meet his, sparking with anger and hate, and then a swathe of crimson-black flames came across to take off her head.
Hazé watched, unmoved, as the woman fell to the floor. Demonfire pulsed, overwhelming the hellfire and putting it out as it bubbled out of her wounds. As it did, it pulled away the mask of the Duchess Gilderalz.
For a moment, the woman revealed was short, mousey, face scarred by disease and beatings, clearly someone who had seen much suffering, none of the elegance or beauty of the Duchess visible. Then the claws of the demonfire emptied her out from within, and her skin split, flesh devoured as spectral claws reached up into the writhing mess. For just a second, the woman’s face was visible as the claws tore her spirit free from her mortal shell, and as she screamed out silently, they dragged her down to complete her Pact.
The Duke looked at the smoking remains of the woman who had killed and replaced his wife for years. “Why would they go to such lengths?” he asked in an iron voice.
“Who says the matters are related?” Hazé asked calmly. She gestured, and the image of the woman arose in illusion, captured in perfect detail, then condensed down to a piece of paper in her hand. She set it on the dresser next to her. “Find out who she was, and likely your questions will be answered.
“As for the doppelganger, they are often Hag servants. They wouldn’t need two minions to watch over a Hagchild. Replacing a Duchess is a far, far bigger game. Indeed, the harm a revealed Hag could do would be minimized in a place such as this, as she would likely be killed before she could escape.
“No, the Hag’s purpose would be insult and humiliation, bloodshed incidental. Have you crossed a Stormhag before, Your Grace?”
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His face was grim as he looked east. “Zouma the Ill Wind lairs in the mountains to the east. She wrought havoc on the weather and preyed upon the peasants in my grandfather’s day. There were conflicts, and they came to a manner of agreement which has lasted most of a century.”
“You may wish to review the wording of that agreement,” Hazé said politely. “As matters stand... what will you do with the child?”
His grip tightened on his Saber. “You would bring her away with you?”
“I will.”
“Will you speak of this?”
“Her ancestry? To none here, and I will take her far from this place.”
“Then take her immediately. I will deal with what has become of my wife.”
“And the shapechanger?” Hazé asked pleasantly.
The Duke looked at her, strode to the door, and threw it open.
“My Lord?” the guards on duty asked, eyes flicking past him for a moment, and noting the bedchamber in disarray, the Moon Priestess standing at the far end... and no Duchess...
He said nothing, closing the door, turning his head, and shifting with his gaze, his eyes coming to rest on the matronly woman standing near to his youngest daughter.
Her eyes widened as she read his mind. She started to move-
Errant’s fist crashed into the side of her head, bouncing her off the wall, and before she could move, she was spun around and sent stumbling backwards towards the Duke.
Fire divided her from head to crotch, and a backhand sent her flying, to bounce heavily off the walls and leave a smearing trail of burning purple ichor behind as her halves fell to the carpeted floor.
Veis’ instinctive scream was covered up almost as quickly as she stared at the corpse of the nanny she’d known all her life... whose body was changing into something that was not her nanny before her eyes.
Hazé calmly stepped out of the bedchamber, closing the door behind her. Everyone looked at her, and who was absent.
“Father, where is mother-?” Guteriz was naturally the first to speak up.
“Your mother died years ago,” hissed the Duke, staring at the now-grey, featureless remains of the doppelganger’s burning body, before moving his eyes to Veis, who shrank back at the chill in them, and then to the Priestess. “Go! Take her!”
Hazé moved forwards smoothly, taking the small child in her arms without much effort, and sweeping grandly away. Veis trembled as she looked back at her father, and the emotionless, killing eyes there.
“Daddy?” she asked once, before Hazé found the stairs and started down them, taking them out of line of sight.
“Hush, little sister,” Hazé said softly. “None of this is your fault, but it is not something a man like him can tolerate. If we do not go, he will kill you, and everyone will agree it is a righteous thing.”
“A righteous thing?” Errant was right behind them, a frown on his face, following his little sister out, not caring about his father’s anger. “Your Holiness, what is going on here?” he asked calmly.
Hazé turned at the bottom of the stairs, meeting his blue eyes with her green ones easily. “You are the youngest son, Errant?” she asked easily, taking in his total lack of fear, yet wary respect.
“I am, Your Holiness,” he said calmly.
“Heaven speaks of you,” she said softly. “The current Duchess was replaced by a Poison Heart Warlock.” His cheek ticked and his eyes narrowed at her words. “Your little sister here is a Hagchild via a Stormcrone, and I am taking her from here ere she be killed.”
“What is a Hagchild?” Veis asked softly from her shoulder, eyes wide and trembling at the words that her own father was ready to kill her.
“Shush, do not let others hear you say that,” Hazé said softly. She extended a hand to Errant, who, caught between bemusement and concern, still took it fearlessly.
His eyes dropped down almost a foot, staring at the image inside the shell, a girl who was younger than he was. “I trust we shall meet again, young master,” she winked at him, one of those green eyes flaring silver for an instant, and then she turned and walked away.
“Veis, she will take good care of you!” Errant said, following after them, reaching up to the tears starting to fall down the little girl’s cheeks.
“Are you coming with me?” Veis asked, cheeks puffing out.
“To a land of priestesses and sorceresses? While I admit that sounds very fun, you know how well I do among Casters, little one.” Veis giggled despite herself, as his disdain for magical stuff was very well known. “However, I will visit, yes? She will tell me where you are, and when I am old enough, I will come find you. Is that alright?”
Veis nodded as soberly as she could, and Errant smiled. “She is going to save your soul. Be strong, little sister. I will come for you!”
“Thank you, big brother! I will be waiting for you! Promise me!”
“You know I always keep my promises, Veis!”
They were outside the gates, the guards standing aside, acting happy to see her go, all of them wondering what she was doing with Veis with her, and the family runt following behind.
He stood up on tiptoe to kiss her forehead, and Veis almost managed to smile.
The Priestess made a gesture, and the wind blew past. Like a silvered shadow, they were gone along the Lived-Lines, back to a previous point in space.
Heaven speaks of me, Errant repeated to himself. She knew I was a Warlock before she came here. Truly high in Sylune’s favor, probably asked Heaven about details of the family before she came.
And she is going to administer the Ritual of the Silver Queen to my little sister...
That his sister was a Hagchild did not bother him, but there was no way his father could possibly tolerate her being around, even were she cleansed of the Hag Curse.
He would see her again... or she would burn in the moonfire of the Silver Queen, before the Curse would be allowed to take her, dying as Veis Gilderalz, and not some shrieking stormcrone.
He knew what his own task was. His eyes turned to the east, cold and harsh.
It was time to kill him a stormcrone!