Aodh took a step forward. The gesture must have been a sign of sorts, for he had only taken the one when on all sides light blazed forth in great green bursts. A ring of torches illuminated his surroundings. Though there was precious little to see. Aodh stood in the centre of what was a large round room. A room without furnishing or decoration when he looked up he saw no ceiling. Beneath he could make out strange writings sketched into the stone floor. Though he could understand none of it, he did recognise the letterings. Desra had learned as much and noted what he could down on paper. Aodh wished he could decipher what the etchings meant.
He bent down to examine the floor when suddenly he felt a surge beneath him and heard the door to the tower close behind him. Aodh had a hand on his blade when without warning he was thrown backwards as the entire room suddenly shifted and rose up. He tried to grab onto something but there was nothing to grab onto, the floor sped upwards into the emptiness, rising at a speed which caused his stomach severe discomfort. The torch scones had disappeared, though curiously the green light remained, blurry and racing past.
Fortunately his ride did not last long.
As suddenly as it had begun it stopped. Aodh breathed in a deep sigh of relief. Wiping himself down he looked around once more. Nothing had changed, everything was just as it had been down below.
He looked around and found the same single door. Not wanting to be within the room any longer Aodh hurried to make his exit. The door opened to him before he had taken more than a few steps. He stopped abruptly as the moonlight suddenly came pouring in. Since arriving in Tralor, and even in its surroundings he had only seen darkness, veiled skies and misty outlines. The only source of light coming from the green flames so ubiquitous in the under city. Now the world around him was perfectly revealed, the moon’s light shone unnaturally bright, illuminating everything in its milky glow. Yet, he knew that could not be possible. It had barely been past midday when he’d entered the city, not near enough time had passed for night to have set in. More Vampir magic, there did not seem any other explanation for it.
Composing himself, Aodh made his way out.
Whatever composure he had regained soon vanished however. The disappointment of what he’d seen below disappeared along with it. This then is Tralor, he thought. From what he could tell they were high up in the clouds, perhaps above them. The moon seemed closer somehow, and it shone proudly casting light all around him. Everywhere he looked he saw great palaces, each one neatly spaced out from the next. Just as the towers below were too. Aodh guessed that the towers below were actually the foundations for the extravagant structures he now gazed upon. Though that would have meant they must have been each hundreds of feet in height.
“Aodh Rua.”
Still in a sort of trance Aodh looked down to the bottom of the steps to where a new company of soldiers awaited him. These looked far more formidable than any he had seen down below. There were no thralls here, only half bloods. About twenty of them, they were covered head to toe in dark black steel, with sharp edges, and a helm that showed only their eyes. The Household guards. Each one looked identical, their armour was heavier and more imposing looking than the typical half blood piece.
Despite how impressive the twenty appeared it was to the figure that stood at their Head which immediately attracted most all of Aodh’s focus. Even on first look it was clear. It was one of the Princes. A Pure Blood.
He was quite magnificent looking.
There was little point denying it. Aodh had always thought of himself as handsome, even amongst Foxlings. Yet he found himself straightening his back a little on seeing the Prince.
He was clad in Tralorian armour, though he wore no helm himself. He was tall, even taller than him and though lean was undoubtedly muscular. He bore all the features Aodh had been prepared to expect of the Pure Bloods. The wings naturally drew his eye first, though folded he could see they must have been quite large indeed. They hung by his side, almost as dark as the armour that their owner wore. His skin was pale, but more than that, pale in a way that was almost blindingly white.
From Desra’s writing Aodh knew that Pure Bloods were only ever born with two colours in their hair. That of black or silver. This one had both, the streaks of black and silver blending seamlessly together. His face was expressionless but the eyes blazed out at Aodh. They were red, as he stared down into them only one thought came to him. Blood. It was the same exact colour, deep and piercing.
“Aodh Rua? The Foxling of Desra’s Dynasty?” The Pure Blood repeated.
Recovering himself, Aodh offered a low bow.
“Yes, forgive me. I was a little disorientated by the moonlight. Evidently you are expecting me.”
“Yes, we have been aware of your progress here. I am Count Terav of House Azareel. My Prince instructed me to lead you to the Royal Council Hall. There you shall be presented to the Heads of the Twenty.”
House Azareel? Aodh thought quickly back to the manuscript. Azareel was the House of Prince Ar, it was to him that Aodh was to deliver Desra’s message. Now was not the time to mention such a thing however, and Desra’s words repeated inside his head. “Let no one see its contents but him.”
“Very well then Count. Please, lead on. I am eager to meet your Leaders.”
Terav nodded in response and stepped aside. As one the half bloods followed suit, creating a path for which Aodh could pass.
Slowly he made his way down the steps. There was a single smooth black stone road leading straight ahead to where he could make out what looked like a large temple in the distance. Smaller, lesser paths led off to the main road towards the palaces on either side. Each one was walled, and from those few that he could see more of the warrior household guards attending their gates.
Aodh smiled as he fell in alongside Terav. The Vampir did not smile back, but kept the same expression on his face as he set off towards the temple beyond. He appeared young though with the Pure Bloods young could easily mean hundreds of years, and old thousands.
“Those are palaces? Of the Houses?”
“Yes.”
“And the half bloods too?”
Terav shook his head, “They live beneath. Only Pure Bloods are permitted in this part of the city.”
“And the thralls?”
“Beneath the half bloods.”
“I see.”
Aodh cast a sideways look at Terav’s armour, just one suit of such Tralorian steel would be enough to elevate him to the greatest of warriors were he to acquire one. Greatest of warriors outside Tralor at least, he reminded himself.
“So why were you chosen to escort me?”
“Someone had to.”
Aodh laughed, though Terav tried to maintain the cold, austere look of a soldier at work he sensed something more beneath.
“You are a Count, yes? That would make Arval your uncle?”
“I suppose it would, yes.”
The notes Desra had given him had contained writings on the makeup of the Pure Blood Houses. Each one had a Prince, its Head. Then came his heir, be it son or brother, he would be likewise named Prince. All other males, uncles, cousins, sons, were referred to as Counts. It was likewise for the females as a Princess or Countess. Aodh felt glad he was armed with some manner of knowledge on the Pure Bloods, little as it might have been.
“Why not Kings?”
“Sorry?”
“Why Prince? Could they not be named Kings?”
Now it was Terav’s turn to look at him sideways, he shrugged.
“We tried to have a King once. It did not serve us well. The last House to call themselves such died out thousands of years ago.”
Aodh waited, but it seemed Terav was not willing to expand.
Slightly disappointed, he turned instead to admire the trees which lined the road alongside him.
Each one was identical, in both height, width and even in the amount of branches they carried. They were undoubtedly trees, yet the flowers which grew upon them were equally undoubtedly roses. Aodh frowned up at them, the roses were not red either, but a dark violet in colour, velvet like. He’d never heard or seen such a thing.
“How old are you?”
“Why?”
“Why not?”
Terav laughed, “You are quite different to any Elven Visitors we have had here. Though, maybe not so different from the dwarven ones.”
“They have visited?”
“You think you are the only guest to be granted an audience here?”
“No, I am not even the first Foxling.”
“Ah yes, your leader. Desra.”
“Ahh so you were alive when he came? That would make you at least eighty then.”
“I never said I saw him. I merely know he came. As do you. Does that make you at least eighty also?”
“A fair point. I am forty two.”
Aodh looked at Terav expectantly.
“You think because you told me yours I am bound to tell you mine?”
Aodh continued to stare.
“I am younger than you, by about ten years.”
“So you were born here on this continent?”
“Yes. One of the few who were.”
“Do you like it?”
“I like Tralor.”
“But you would rather you went back to your home I’m sure?”
“If you are sure then there is no need to ask.”
“Most of you would rather go back I presume? Else why would I be here?”
“Why indeed?”
“And your people? They do not venture outside?” Apart from those few guiding him there was no other being in sight.
“Why would they? Their palaces have everything they need. Unless they have a formal reason to do so I do not see why they would be venturing outside.”
“Is it not boring for them? To remain in one place.”
Terav laughed, “They are not compelled to. And the walls betray their actual size, were you to see within you would know why they have no need to be without.”
“You have an interesting way with words. But I will believe what you say. There is much I don’t understand about this place. It must have required much skill and means to create. Magical means yes?”
“You will forgive me Foxling, but I believe I have answered enough of your questions. And we are almost at the Council Chambers. Any more of your queries will no doubt be answered inside. Come, it is time for your audience.”
Aodh decided not to press his questioning, though he spoke amicably, it did not seem a good idea to probe Terav too far just yet.
A case of theft: this story is not rightfully on Amazon; if you spot it, report the violation.
Instead he turned his attention to the building which now loomed up before him. A series of steps rising high circled the huge building which had the shape of a half-sphere. As if someone had cut through a ball and placed it down flat.
That in itself was intriguing enough, he had never seen any buildings so large and of such a shape. Yet its shape and size were mere side notes. It was what covered its walls that captured all of his attention.
The entire building was covered in frescoes, an endless stream of illustrations. From as far as the eye could see Aodh saw great scenes of battles, duels, councils, lovemaking and more he could not readily identify depicted over the entire face of the construction. How one could have created such spectacular murals and how long it might have taken to do so was quite mind boggling. Aodh had witnessed art before, indeed Desra was something of a collector back at the manor. He had never been much interested, but even he could admit the sight before him was an awe-inspiring one.
“Do not ask,” Terav already had his hand up as Aodh turned to look at him. “For that is not of your concern. Just know that it would be impossible for any hand other than a Pure Blood’s to create such beauty.”
Aodh resisted the urge to roll his eyes, arrogance was clearly a trait the Vampirii Pure Bloods were not immune to. Still, as he admired the artistry it was not hard to see why. He would too had his people created such a colossal work of art.
As they came to the entrance to the Council Halls Terav gave a nonchalant wave of his hands and the doors opened before him.
Aodh's eyes went wide but he managed to hold in his breath. He knew magic existed, Elves had some wielders, and Dwarves made use of magical rituals in their forgery. Even humans once had those called Maegists. Men practised in both magic and physics, he himself was the result of one those same Maegist creations. But Vampir magic used by the Princes was alleged to have been on an entirely different level. Innate skills passed down from one family of Pure Bloods to the next, the ability to open doors with the wave of a hand was quite a striking one. Even if it was clearly not a significant one for them judging by Terav’s lack of impression.
Inside the dark passage, the only light came from more of the green torches which lined the hall on both sides. As Aodh passed by one torch sconce he saw that the green light illuminated not from a flame but from an emerald placed inside it.
Their route was almost identical to that outside, one main path with smaller ones branching off of it. Terav continued straight ahead until the passage opened up to a wide open area. Here light rained down on them, craning his neck Aodh could make out the very top of the domed building above them. Even with his eyesight it was not easy to make out, though the opening must have been quite big judging from the level of moonlight coming down. Again Aodh was surprised, though perhaps he shouldn’t have been, it was hardly a shock that the moon was preferred to the sun by such creatures.
“Here Foxling, this is where I leave you.”
Terav gestured over to where a pair of half blood guards stood either side of ornate red doors.
“The Princes await you.”
“You will not be joining me inside.”
“No, it will be just you. I will remain here for your return.”
Aodh nodded, “Very well. We will continue our conversation then.”
Terav shook his head but laughed, “Conversation? If that is what you call it then so be it. I wish you well Foxling. Now go, Those inside are not best kept waiting. Some of them want to kill you after all.”
Aodh was only just registering the Vampir’s words when he was given a gentle but firm push forward. The two guards moved aside and the red doors opened before him, seemingly of their own accord.
He was about to turn around and ask just what Terav meant by some when he heard his name boomed out from the mouth of a herald inside.
Aodh felt compelled to enter. Some of them want to kill me? I haven’t even started their contract yet, Aodh thought as he was ushered inside and to the middle of the vast room.
It was not dissimilar to an amphitheatre, stood at its centre Aodh felt almost like a pit fighter. All around him were rows upon rows of seats, enough to hold hundreds. There were not hundreds there at that moment. Only the twenty Princes. They sat alone interspersed all over the room, each one perched up high looking down on him from what looked like thrones.
Like Terav these too had all the classic features of pure bloods. But many did certainly look older. He knew their kind could live thousands of years, though they were not immortal. Even they died eventually. A few elderly, if still stately and dignified faces looked down on him. But there were youthful ones too, Princes almost godlike in their appearance.
One of the oldest looking ones frowned down at him and began to speak in a language Aodh could not understand. The Vampiric tongue was smooth, its words flowed and rippled throughout the room. Aodh spoke a little elven, and some of the tone seemed similar, perhaps a little harsher maybe, but he could not make out anything they said. Still, as twenty pairs of penetrating red eyes glared down at him it was not difficult to decipher what was the subject of their animated discussion.
Aodh waited patiently as the elder’s words provoked animated responses from several others.
He focused his attention to the thrones and those sat on them. Each one had the names of the House elegantly ascribed above them. Though Aodh could not understand nor speak any of their language. He could read their letters. That along with the information Desra had given him allowed him to recognise which Prince he was looking at at least.
He let the speaking continue for a few minutes before he finally had enough. Coughing loudly he took a step forward.
“I am Aodh Rua. A Foxling of Desra’s dynasty. It is he who sent me here, for I believe I am to carry out a contract under your orders.”
His words broke into their discussion and stopped it rather abruptly.
“Yes, you will have to forgive us Foxling, there are some amongst us who remain unconvinced of what has already been decided. They will understand soon enough. I trust your journey was a peaceful one?”
The Prince who addressed him was old. Yet he carried dignity and pride in his stance, and from his eyes alone Aodh could tell he was a Prince of significant stature.
“I had some…. interesting diversions along my way.” Aodh was careful to keep his voice steady, he would not cower, no matter how powerful the people stood analysing him might be.
“Giants, dwarves, elves, satyrs. Even some of your own kind. You are not the first welcoming party I have come across.”
The same elder as before leaned forward from his throne. The name above him read Azareel. So this must be the Prince Arval Desra spoke of.
“You killed one of our servitors in the forest, yes? You did this alone?”
Aodh frowned, “Servitors? Ahhh the half blood, yes. Yes I killed him.” He shrugged, “Rather easily in fact. Him and his thralls.”
Prince Azareel laughed, “Him and his thralls eh? Hear that Lusdan, the Foxling killed him rather easily.”
“And?”
The Prince, who must have been Lusdan, responded with obvious disdain, he looked not much younger than the elder who laughed at him. “What of it? I am supposed to care about Half bloods now am I?”
“Well of course not, though you did seem rather confident beforehand that it would succeed.”
Lusdan dismissed the derision with a wave, and settled instead for glaring down at Aodh.
“We were compelled to offer an examination of sorts.” Azareel continued, “To show that you are worthy of the task we would bestow upon you. You understand, I am sure.”
Aodh took out the Half-blood’s tooth.
“Completely.”
Azareel clapped his hands, “Ahh you see. A Foxling. Warriors all. “I did tell you. The Foxlings are resourceful. The test was unnecessary. And you lost a half blood for no reason, Lusdan.”
“I have lost a worthless servant, one not fit for purpose. And we have learned that this Foxling has some skill at least. I would not consider that unnecessary.”
“You are Desra’s chosen. Pray tell us young Foxling. Why you?”
Aodh turned away up to his right where another of the Princes now spoke to him. This was no elder. This one looked every inch the Pure Blood. His hair was a silver so fine it looked like it could be made into jewellery with the right tools. On his brow he wore a circlet, a single large emerald glowed in its centre, the glare of it highlighting the Prince’s high cheekbones and perfectly aligned face. The name above his throne read Vayne.
Aodh tilted his head slightly, “For a contract such as the one you desire, I am best placed to fulfil it. My own skills are aligned with what is being asked of us.”
“You believe you have the skills necessary to travel beyond our Continent, over what you here name the Endless seas, to a land ruled over by the Dragonkin?”
Aodh bobbed his head from side to side, “More or less.”
“Convincing.”
“And what exactly did Desra tell you about this contract of ours? What do you know of it?”
Yet another Prince questioned him, the inscription behind him read Presar.
“Only that I am to work as your spy of sorts. To gain information on the Dragonkin. How they are now organised and what it is they plan next. Though I’ll confess, there is much I do not know about it. Desra told me himself that the other details would only be revealed to me upon arrival here. And here I am.”
A few of the Princes began to argue once more in their tongue. Aodh had never wished to understand a language so much as he did now.
This time the quarrelling did not last long. Prince Azareel seemed to end it. He turned back to face Aodh.
“There are some not pleased to see me?”
The Elder smiled at his question, “Nothing of the sort, we were only trying to decide whether or not your hair is red and black or black and red.”
Aodh couldn’t help smiling, the old Prince was surprisingly full of life. The Vampirii clearly were not all as haughty, cold and menacing as he’d been led to believe.
“You have heard no doubt of what happened at Orbran.”
A new Prince spoke down at Aodh, he looked more middle aged than young or old. A scar running from one side of his face to the other distinguished him from the others. Feergar, there was no mistaking him from Desra’s descriptions.
“The Dragonkin have decided that one continent is not enough. Now they wish to make moves on this one also. We intend to combat that. Not only here, for here we are secure, but there also. But to do so we need information on them, something we have precious little of without any outpost on their lands. That is why we have need of you. You will be positioned within one of the DragonLord’s domains as one of their Burned Men. Though we have attempted to do the same with thralls they have too much of us in them to avoid detection. It is our hope that you will be able to blend in as one of the servants. From there you must watch and listen, learn as much as you can about their movements, their leaders and any plans they may have in effect. When you are deemed to have information valuable enough you may return.”
“It is your hope?” Aodh shook his head, “That means you are not sure? Are not the Burned men branded, made slaves to their DragonLord by that same DragonLord’s flames. You don’t think they will uncover me as they have uncovered others.”
“So you are aware of the Burned men,” Prince Vayne answered him, “Good, that is a start. And you are correct of course. Which is why measures must be taken to ensure that you are a Burned man. In all but nature.”
“Meaning?” Aodh did not like his tone.
“Meaning that you will be given a spell to replicate the mark of the Dragon. A spell created from scales of one of the Dragons that escaped their defeat at Orbran. He won’t be able to detect you amongst them. You will be human enough, and have his own genes enough to bypass his screening.”
“You are sure about that?”
The Prince shrugged, smiling “More or less. We are offering you the equivalent of a Kingdom, surely you understand that there will be some risks.”
“Some? Being stuck on the Dragon continent whil-”
“It is not the Dragon continent. They might hold it for now, but it is not theirs.” Vayne broke in.
“Fine, either way it is a great risk for me to be so far and so alone.”
“It will work. I give you my guarantee. And be aware though it is not a true burn, it will feel like one. A necessary aspect to ensuring the validity of the illusion.”
“So I will feel as if I’m being burned by Dragonfire?”
“Yes.”
“This Kingdom you are offering better be a big one.”
And Desra better make sure I get most of it after this. Burned by Dragonfire. It was not an experience he ever wished to have, even if it was not the real thing, feeling like it would be terrifying enough.
“You will need time to prepare, for the burning and for what to expect.” Azareel announced, “For that you will remain here at Tralor for a few days of preparation. I am afraid that is all we can afford, the Forbidden Seas will soon freeze and we cannot wait until they thaw to set sail. Once you have been adequately informed and prepared you will be taken to the Coast where our ship awaits you. From there you will set sail for our homelands.”
Aodh only nodded, it seemed he would have some days for questions at least. Though he wasn’t quite sure a few would be time enough. Still, he was growing tired, so many red eyes staring down at him, as if into his very soul was exhausting. He wished to be away from their glare.
“You will be kept in the guest chambers, within the inner city. It bares little resemblance to any forest, or to your manor home I’m sure. But it should suffice.”
Aodh bowed slightly at Lusdan’s words, though he picked up on the mockery in them he was keen not to show any anger. The Vampirii prided themselves on being above the other people of the continent, in both power, intelligence and everything else. Aodh however was determined to show that Foxlings at least were a people to be respected, ones who could control their emotions.
Behind him he heard the great doors opening once more and Terva returned to guide him back out. Even before he had made his exit, fresh arguing broke out behind him. Not all it seemed were convinced by him, or the plan to send him as their agent to lands so far away. Aodh saw no reason to worry on that now. He was here to complete a contract, if the Vampirii rejected that then he could not be to blame. Even Desra would understand that.