The Medical Wing had been quarantined, for Arden was resting within its halls. She was tucked into bed and several medical experts spoke with Ovelia a few meters away.
Rena, Ana, and Gelehrter were gathered near the bed.
“Blast...” Rena cursed under her breath. “A vampire managed to slip through security.”
“Who was the head of the detail?” Gelehrter asked.
“I am unsure. Order was restored hastily, but it makes me uneasy. The situation presented itself too quickly. There is something not right.” Rena rested her hand onto her hip, now murmuring to herself. She approached Ovelia and whispered softly to her for a few moments before leaving.
The Sanguine Overlord finally waved them off, taking a seat near Arden's bed. Her usual air of command had softened. The gaze of a proud, powerful and otherwise indomitable woman had been replaced by that of someone far lesser, someone who seemed to be prepared for the act of grief.
“My little girl...” She whispered, brushing Arden's pink hair aside. Along her cheek, the wound had closed after many failed attempts. She rested peacefully, unaware of the terrors of the waking world. “I would give anything to go back and not let that happen to you.”
“My Overlord, I have come to report.” One of the Justicar spoke near her side, brushing Gelehrter and Ana away.
“I will hear it.”
“Eloise Delacroix has been placed into custody. We will act according to protocol or await your orders, ma'am.”
“Bring her master to me.” Ovelia's scowl caught him off guard and her tone sent shivers through his body. “I will speak with him. If this is his idea of a threat, then I will answer with my own.”
“Your will be done, my Overlord.” The Justicar was illuminated by glowing pixel boxes, his body disintegrating into nothingness.
“M-Ma'am, might I ask you something?” Gelehrter strode forward and spoke softly. “...What will happen to Arden? Will she be alright?”
“The doctors say she will live. Magic such as lifesap will take some time for her to recover from, as it takes more than just your body's strength. Through a small wound, much of her blood was taken. This is how they grow stronger in battle.” Ovelia now stood upright, her air of command returning as she continued. “Rena has recommended you to me for ascension to Justicar. You will be greater than any knight, but you will not bear a title other than this. She speaks highly of you in reports. As your first assignment, you will guard Arden with Rena's help. As she is still the senior Justicar, you will adhere to her orders as if they were from my own mouth. Understood?”
Gelehrter barely contained his excitement. “Y-Yes, my Overlord!”
“Ana, tell me how you were able to discern the lifesap on the metal of Eloise's spear.” The Sanguine Overlord's attention turned to Ana, the vast ocean of her optics tearing deep into the young smith's psyche. She however remained steadfast against the ocean's waves.
“I remember when a weapon enchanted with lifesap was brought to my home. Stolzer had mentioned then that its dark magic enabled the vampires to mend while they were in combat.” Ana replied. “Or...at least...that's what I can remember.”
“...Did Eisener talk of any other techniques while he was alive?” Ovelia's question burned through her defenses like an lit arrow to a house made of straw.
“I-I...I can't remember. But...I do feel as if I know what you are talking about. Papa's last gift to me was the ring he used to wear. I never took it off...” Ana lowered her head and her voice trailed off.
Ovelia sighed.
Bloody smiths and their secrets. He didn't write a damn thing down but stored it away in that ring. Perhaps he knew how to craft this? The Sanguine Overlord contemplated for a few moments, surveying Ana as she took a stool near Arden's side. I will ask her when she is better to craft me a weapon capable of lifesap.
Rena returned shortly after and glimpsed Ovelia. She gave a quick salute which her superior returned. “My Overlord, if I may.”
“Go ahead.”
“Did something happen?” Her intuition attuned to the excitement written across Gelehrter's visage.
“Oh...perhaps you should expedite his Justicar training. He proved his skill in combat today and I found him worthy.” Ovelia gently smiled to Rena, who's eyes betrayed her solemn expression. “...But first, he must meet the Grandmaster.”
“The Grandmaster?” Gelehrter chimed in after a few moments, halting Ovelia for a split second. “My Overlord, who is the Grandmaster?”
“I will fetch him.” The Sanguine Overlord smirked, speaking over her shoulder. “He loves meeting new recruits.”
A man sat in front of Eloise. He was garbed in the black of the Justicar, the Blessed Star of Sanctuary emblazoned on his chest. His dark hair and glowing emerald eyes studied her. She had been stripped bare, chained to the wall and had been forced to sit on the ground.
Her skin bore the resemblance of a being who had freshly perished, the hue sickly pale. The scarlet of her corneas bore the mark of a vampire, the hunger and lust for blood. She remained steadfast before the man, who surveyed even the slightest of her movements. Chagrin had been laid onto her like a blanket onto a child and her wrists bled from her earlier struggles.
The chamber resembled a giant metal box. On the floor where she sat and attempted to struggle free from her binds, marks had been carved into the stonework from thousands of others before her.
Between the man and the prisoner was a bowl which was enchanted to keep the blood within it cold.
“You can't do this to me.” She squeaked after another attempt at breaking the chains.
“If you tell me what I wish to know, then you will eat.” The man replied.
“I don't know what it is you're asking for!”
“But you do.” His gaze pierced through her and his words struck a nerve.
“Lifesap? What would I know of lifesap?”
“It was enchanted onto your weapon. A smith of great skill can do such a thing and we are looking for one. Do you happen to know who did this?” The man simply waited for her reply as she now thrashed about, the hunger within her eyes growing. Her binds groaned, but remained steadfast.
“I don't know anyone of that name!” She bellowed and slipped, her head crashing against the floor. Eloise dangled for a moment, unconscious.
The man stood upright and grasped the bowl of blood. He headed for the door behind him, taking one final look to the woman. He shook his head in dismay, witnessing her futile attempts at resting against the wall.
Before Ovelia could address him, he made the first notion. “Hello, my Overlord. What brings you to the dungeon this time of night?”
“I have come to inquire about a few things.” She sighed and turned her attention to the window. Fashioned against the wall was a one way window where they merely watched the disgruntled vampire merely stare at the adjacent barrier for a time.
“She has not fed in quite some time. Lifesap helps to alleviate that, but it is by no means a way out.” He murmured and set the bowl inside of a strange device which seemed to devour the contents. “What else have you come for?”
“Gavilis, what are your intentions on this girl?” Ovelia crossed her arms as she addressed him, watching as Eloise helplessly sobbed.
“No doubt she was sent to challenge Arden and hope to win. The challenge rules as stated by Ernald in the First Eon during the War of the Magistrate are as follows: 'Thou shalt not stain the blade with filth of magic, poison, or trick, but face the opponent in truth.' It is taught among all practices of military, whether or not they like it.” Gavilis continued his low tone and appeared to study the vampire before him who now decided to wail. “She seems to not know the implications of such an act. I would hope she cooperates.”
His movements could be called poetry. Gavilis was a tad shorter than his superior but held the presence of mountains. Skin of ivory and the slight tint of olive trapped his organs inside of his body and the man's dark hair was parted just over his left eye. To some, he was the splitting image of Ernald, but Gavilis was merely Gavilis. The Grandmaster of the Justicar peered tirelessly, the Dwyn lineage enabling his curiosity to be his only need for survival. His emerald eyes shone like he was born yesterday and with the life of thousands of questions lined behind them.
“Rena's student, Gelehrter, seems to be coming along well.”
“Oh, I've heard much about him. He was Stolzer's, but then was inherited by Rena when he passed. I am glad to hear the boy is doing alright.” Gavilis's demeanor remained still despite the cheerful manner within his tone. “Is he fighting like us?”
“In a lesser manner, yes.”
“I will have to meet him. This one can wait in the mean time.” Gavilis beamed and headed for the door. His longsword, battered and worn, was retrieved as he turned the knob. She followed him outside and met his stride. Gavilis nodded to a Justicar who was stationed outside and they headed into the observation room.
“You are excited for this one, aren't you?” Ovelia commented and waved aside several individuals fighting for her attention.
“Training a Justicar is a massive undertaking and I am appreciative of Rena for helping him fight like us...however, the magical and academic route is what he lacks. I will have to give him reading material and his own Blessed Star, though it will have to be in Rena's care for the time being.” Gavilis rounded the corner and increased his pace. Ovelia followed suit, but found no need to match his speed. “I will wake Arden. She has had enough time to recover.”
“Gavilis, it has only been a few hours.”
“Lifesap does not demand much of a Mortem's energies to resist. This may be her first bout with it and thus, she is Justicar material as well.” His analysis of the young Mortem heir worried Ovelia, though her visage veiled it well.
“Her first meeting with Lifesap, but you wish for her to become a Justicar at such a young age? You are jesting, I am sure.”
“I—do—not—jest—My—Overlord.” Gavilis halted at the lift and turned his emerald eyes to pierce into hers. “She was not killed in the initial blow, but fainted. Most are destroyed and devoured. That is why the Blessed Star was crafted.”
“I understand, but you will not take--”
“I am not asking, my Overlord. 'If one survives the lifesap then they are Justicar.' That is what you said, wasn't it?”
“Indeed, but Arden is--”
“She is your adopted daughter. I understand your feelings toward her but--”
“I will think on it, Gavilis.” Ovelia held out a hand to stop his advancing. The doors to the lift opened and they stepped inside. A lever was turned over by Gavilis.
“I am not taking no for an answer, my Overlord. I will tell the tale of Ernald.”
Ovelia grimaced.
“You will not deny me this.”
“If you must.”
“Rena will teach her.”
“Unheard of.”
“Mortem must learn somehow.”
“Yes, from other Mortem.”
“There are others, but they are--”
“Dead, or missing. I remember.”
“Dwyn are able teachers, but they--”
“Are awfully persistent.” Ovelia sighed and the doors opened again. Ruckus from both Gelehrter and Rena as they danced about. Arden and Ana clapped with the rhythm they made.
Gavilis glanced to Ovelia, who made no remark. He strode into the Medical Wing, his presence causing them to halt.
Rena's eyes grew to match the moon and she snapped to attention.
“G-Grandmaster!” Rena saluted hastily, activating her Blessed Star.
With a wave of his hand, the protective magic was dispelled. “You will have no need of that. I am glad to see you alive and well, Arden. Who are our guests?”
“This is Ana and Gelehrter, my student. I believe this is your--” Gavilis quickly strode over to Gelehrter and drew his worn blade.
“Humor me with a duel, young one.” The Grandmaster of the Justicar's emerald gaze focused onto Gelehrter as he bowed. They took a few steps back and moved the beds over to form a pseudo arena. The boy answered him and faced his new opponent with a bow.
“''O, Lord, bless this conflict. Ensure no harm comes to those who uphold your holy word. May the victor grant wisdom to the living.'” Gavilis ended the prayer with a quick lunge, similar to that of a fencer.
He does not wait. Gelehrter dodged a few blows and finally drew his blade. Their steel sang as they clashed together. The duel was ended quickly however; Gavilis's fist burst into flame and plunged itself into his sternum. Metal hissed at it melted instantaneously and Gelehrter staggered backward, his breath forced from his lungs.
Gavilis merely waited for him to recover.
“W-What...kind of duel...is this?” Gelehrter wheezed and finally gripped his blade. The steel in his hand quivered as his muscles attempted to hold the weapon aloft, his stance weakening.
“All recruits are tested by the Grandmaster. Their worthiness is judged by their duel and if you are found worthy, then he will bid you welcome. If you fail...” Rena's voice trailed off and she turned to Gavilis.
“If you fail, you are dead.” His answer struck deep into his psyche. “When a Justicar is in the field or even off-duty, that is when others think you are the weakest. Your first lesson is in your own endurance. I am life itself, beating you down. I am unrelenting, will you be found wanting, or will you triumph?”
Gelehrter gritted his teeth and swiped toward him. His steel met air however, as his sight failed him.
“Justicar are often beset by many enemies, often at once.” Gavilis said as he waved his hand over the boy, his energy returning to him. “I have given you a chance. Disarm me and you win. Don't and you are dead. This mercy I allow because you had performed well in the Grand Tourney today.”
He shook his head and mounted a new defense. With each blow, sparks ignited into the air. Steel rang like the rhythmic drums of war. Their steps back and forth seemed to morph into a dance of death, each additional blow met equally.
Gelehrter glimpsed an opening in his defense. With a turn, he turned his blade in the middle of its flight, smashing Gavilis's hand with the flat. Instinctively he released his weapon, but as the strike landed, so too did Gavilis react. He kicked his sword into the air with his knee, the blade bouncing harmlessly into the air. His fist clashed against his jaw and he spiraled off his feet.
The Grandmaster of the Justicar caught his weapon with a wry smile.
“Clever. Come, again.”
Good sign. Gavilis doesn't toy with anyone, they usually are dead. Ovelia thought absentmindedly.
Gelehrter struggled to his feet. Ana attempted to rush to his side, but Arden gripped her sleeve, shaking her head.
They stood now facing one another. Another rush and steel met steel again. They danced for awhile longer, fists and elbows crashing against their forms. While Gelehrter felt every sting, Gavilis appeared to merely grunt and swallow the agony.
Finally, Gavilis lowered his guard and dropped his weapon. Gelehrter's sword met his skull, the barrier around his body taking form. Sparks showered him as the weapon split in two, his longsword tolling as it met the wooden floor.
“Good, good.” Gavilis held out his hand and smiled. “This first lesson I give to you is in humility and conviction. A Justicar's tenacity is what guards him when he is weakened. Should you be ambushed by many, you must not falter. Your own strength is enough to trample mountains and the Blessed Star will aid you.
All Justicar are awarded the Blessed Star of Sanctuary, an emblem which is powered by your own conviction. Your virtues, your intelligence, your will. This gives your armor strength and is more powerful than any smelted steel. However...”
“It is not allowed in tournaments. Ernald's rule since the beginning, he said then it was cheating.” Ovelia shrugged.
Gelehrter took the hand of his Grandmaster, suddenly shaking as the force from every blow finally become bare. “T-Thank you, Grandmaster.”
“Now...Arden.” Gavilis's gaze took to the youth who remained in her bed. “I will meet with you tomorrow. You are Justicar as well.”
“Y-Yes...yes sir.”
“Mister...Gavilis?” Ana stammered. Gavilis raised an eyebrow at her but feigned a reply. “Please...tell me what manner the Blessed Star is made from.”
Ovelia and Gavilis exchanged glances.
“I am a craftsman, sir. My papa was Eisener Wille.”
“That fellow?”
“Yes, he was...” Ana swallowed a knot in her throat. “...was the greatest.”
“Do not worry of such things for now. Now is a time for stories.” The shift in his demeanor caught everyone but Ovelia offguard. “But...you will experience it for yourself. A magic will be prepared and you will know it as if you were there. Come along, fix the room.”
This tale has been pilfered from Royal Road. If found on Amazon, kindly file a report.
Hastily they scrambled to align the beds with the others. Arden had attempted to help, but was hopelessly discouraged by the pain in her legs.
Rena aided Gelehrter in removing his armor.
When they had finished and the remnants of Gelehrter's longsword salvaged, they each took to a bed, either to sit or lay.
“Close your eyes and imagine a time before time began...” Gavilis and Ovelia chanted, waving their hands in unison. All but they fell suddenly into a deep slumber, their dreams fixated on a time before time began.
Water flowed endlessly in the soup filled with life. Beings formed into one another, morphing into other versions of themselves. They tirelessly evolved and reproduced.
However, in the expanse of the sprouted universe, the center coalesced with life as well. Collections from each planet which bore life in the entirety of existence had been placed there. Fields of green, forests of rising deciduous trees, lakes and oceans. All of the aspects from other planets dotted the landscape. From towering cliffs which rose nearly to the heavens, white wastelands covered in sparse flora, to oceans flowing endlessly into the horizon, life flourished.
The Father had descended to witness His own handiwork. He weaved His mighty hand and built flesh and bone. In His image, a man and woman took the stage.
“Ernald and Eloise.” He addressed them, their names labeling them for their endless lives. “You will guide the masses which inhabit these lands. From your minds will inventions of new aspects come to fruition and from your hands will they come to life.”
They appeared dumbfounded and refrained from fixating their gaze onto him. He raised His hands and in moments, knowledge flowed deep into their minds. The brilliance of this new knowledge dyed the corneas within their eyes a deep ocean blue, the vast understanding of the world taking shape. Language, infinite tongues from life itself, sprouted from their mouths. Hastily they spoke to one another. Disbelief, then to understanding.
“Protect this place. It is Sanctuary, a place of peace. Honor it and it will cherish you. This is my final gift to you.” The Father had vanished into nothing, His form elevated into the heavens above.
Ernald and Eloise stared into the chaotic ocean within their eyes. Truth returned their gaze. They shared both hair of white, pale ivory skin and peak physical form. All had been revealed to them and they knew all.
Thousands of leagues passed by them as they sprinted without growing tired. Sleep never found them. Hunger or thirst took no notice of them. They existed happily, living in their state for thousands of years.
Finally, Ernald spotted a new form. He greeted them with a wave and they hurried over.
“Hello there, I am Ernald. This is Eloise.” The phrases were repeated until the being understood.
“What manner of creature are you?” Eloise inquired.
The short being shook his head and shrugged.
“...A dwarf.” Knowledge from deep within took shape. The being, standing barely to their torso, was stout and hardy.
So it repeated thousands of times over. Their knowledge sprouted from them and in their knowledge came teaching. All manners of intelligent life were taught by Ernald and Eloise.
However, one day a being approached Ernald. A man.
This man, strong and capable, handed him a primitive weapon. This thing had been carved from stone.
“I challenge you.” He spoke in his strange tongue. Ernald understood, but did not know what he meant. He grasped the tool and his body reacted to a lunge from the man.
The man swung his weapon in malice and was instantaneously parried. Their duel went on for quite sometime until Ernald struck back. Rage took him. A being ultimate knowledge being challenged by one whom he had taught. All of his skills, his knowing, his speech. His own way of life was thanks to Ernald.
And with a blow to the skull, it split. The man slumped over and Ernald released the tool from his grasp.
“Mortem.” Other beings referred to him then. Eloise was not spared from the title. It was then that they were given another name by mortals. Mortem. Death.
Death. Too quickly did they learn of it and too quickly was their lesson a harsh one. The concept had been known to them, though the reality of causing it was alien.
Ernald and Eloise were not approached in the same manner again. If one wished to speak to them, they stood at a distance.
Thereafter, lessons of building took place. They set forth from then on to build a tower in homage of the Father. To visit him again.
Cities rose around the tower, as workers established families and settled. The sprawling Market District shaped around the concept of bartering.
However, as they ventured out into the darker reaches of Sanctuary, they met with a new threat.
This threat was a biped and resembled a man, or woman, but it drank the blood of its own.
Weapons were constructed. Massive towers and defenses erected.
One night, they struck. The defenses which Mortem and others had come to rely on failed them. Their own trust of their own creations failed them.
Ernald and Eloise met their adversary, the vampires, on the field of battle. Eloise fell shortly afterward, but it was Ernald who fought for eons.
His struggle, his strength, his prowess. All was taken from him as his body failed him. Mountains of corpses tallying in the millions were left in his wake. A path leading from the mighty Citadel to the far reaches of the Northern District were laden with the lifeless.
And it was near the end of this path where he fell.
Before he could accept death, he prayed.
Gelehrter woke with a start. Cold sweat beaded down his forehead and the vivid dreams played through his mind thousands of times over. He wiped his face clean with his sleeve and slipped out of the bed.
The only other individual awake was Gavilis. The Grandmaster of the Justicar studied them as an artist would study a painting.
“You bore witness to old magic.” He mumbled. “Ernald's tale is one filled with many things we of the later generation could never understand. I have lived through his tale and I still do not comprehend everything.”
“You...?”
“Yes. I was one of the many from that time who took his lessons to heart. Ernald was a great fellow and it is why I hope for Arden to join us.” Though he appeared to be only a boy, Gavilis's eyes betrayed his age. “Sanguine Overlords are fantastic and everything, but it is the Justicar, the Templarate and knights who win wars. They are stronger than all of us, but we are the ones who march to die.”
Gelehrter remained silent and turned away.
“This story is one all Justicar must know?”
“It is a reminder of our failure. Justicar were formed then and could not help our Sanguine Overlord, Ernald, in any way. We watched him die.” Gavilis seemed to be lost in thought but continued briefly. “...Many lessons were taken from that fateful day. I buried my master and the vampires hid, knowing that we would mobilize against them. Since then, its been cat and mouse.”
“Sir, will there be war?” Gelehrter asked.
“Time marches on, young one.” His answer was met with a raised eyebrow. “We will see in the coming weeks. You should return to your dreams.”
The following morning, they had roused themselves from their slumber. Gavilis and Ovelia had left in the middle of the night—Gavilis after having a short word with Gelehrter—which was both comforting and disturbing.
“I should be heading to the stall now...I hope no one stole anything.” Ana mumbled and rubbed the sleep from her eyes. Hastily she retrieved many of her items, dodging looks from the others. Her stubborn nature stole the sound from the air and she left without another word.
Gelehrter watched her leave. Arden and Rena stretched, oblivious.
“We should find the Grandmaster before he finds us.” Rena commented, pressing her fingers against the emblem on her chest. The spell of protection activated and the Blessed Star was illuminated, the dark armor stitching itself over her clothes. “Come you two, up.”
She motioned for them to follow. Arden grumbled, pulling on her tunic, her pants and boots. Her weapon, however, was nowhere to be found.
Gelehrter strapped his sword hilt to his side, the rest having been broken the night before.
They ventured from the Medical Wing shortly after, stepping into the lift. A quick pull on the lever allowed them to travel into the darker reaches of the Citadel. Torch sconces were lined along the wall evenly, but the glow from the flames seemed to be absorbed into the darkness. Their boots were muffled by thick carpet which released tiny puffs of grotesque air. Rounding a corner and heading farther still into the dim hall, they entered the interrogation room.
Tables and chairs were set farther from the door, most of the seats facing the only two entrances: one to the room itself, the other into the holding area. Counters lined with various instruments were within arms reach of the window which allowed for viewers to watch interrogations. There stood Gavilis, the Grandmaster of the Justicar. His boy-like nature took them aback, as his solemn demeanor betrayed his youthful appearance. He surveyed the only occupant in the interrogation room: Eloise.
She had more attempts during the night to escape, her forearms covered in her blood. Her mouth had been stained with her own essence as she licked her own blood as it trickled down her arms.
“Rena, Arden, Gelehrter.” He addressed them but took no time to glance over. Instead, Gavilis's eyes focused intently on the nude vampire before him, studying her form. “This is the vampire which used lifesap during the tournament, is she not?”
“Vampires are not human.” Arden spat. “You shouldn't give them--”
“They have a right to breathe like you do. Remember that or I will remind you what its like not to.” Gavilis snapped.
“Yes, she is the one.” Rena chimed in. “Where are her belongings?”
“There.” He pointed to the table behind him which her armor, clothes and weapon were all carefully lined together. “Several others were here during the night. They took notes if you wished to read them.”
Rena already busied herself with studying the contents of many scattered notebooks. She handed off others to Arden and Gelehrter, whose attempt at stomaching the clawing sprawl of handwriting was heartbreaking.
“Most of the wounds on her body she has caused herself.” Gavilis explained after a brief silence. “When a vampire hasn't fed in quite some time, the glow in their eyes becomes much more noticeable. Delacroix are the only Great House—Great Houses being Mortem, Dwyn and Delacroix—to have experimented with vampirism. Those who do however, are forced to relinquish their name and never return.”
“She still is proud of her lineage, though they denounce her.” Gelehrter observed.
“It is rather painful to watch.” Rena grimaced. “She is named after Eloise, the first?”
“Yes. Its a rather popular name.” Gavilis fell silent and raised his hand to signal for them to approach the window.
Eloise's eyes lulled into the back of her head before she regained consciousness. Desperately she struggled in vain against the chains, blood trailing along her skin.
She lapped her own essence and tears flowed from her eyes. Her moans of agony echoed through to them.
“What a dreadful sight.” Arden mumbled.
“It is cruel, but we are Justicar. She would not show mercy if she were in our shoes. As part of the investigation process, we break their will. Eloise will beg soon, she only has so much blood in her body.” The Grandmaster of the Justicar spun on his heels and waved his hand over a small device. The pot formed itself into a bowl which then filled itself with red drink. The surface of the container released a mist into the air and it trailed with Gavilis as he then headed into the interrogation room.
He strode to the center of the room, the lights overhead brightening as he approached. With great care he laid the bowl to rest between them. They were equal distance from the bowl on both sides.
“Y-You...you again.” Eloise feigned her strength, attempting to stand again. Her legs wobbled and she crumpled to the stone floor with a thump.
“Tell me what you know of your spear.” Gavilis's emerald gaze fixated to hers. “Who forged it?”
“Who do you think did it?” Her lips loosened after a spell of deafening silence. “He's still out there, you know.”
“I am aware. You know the rules of the Grand Tourney, what drove you to cheat?”
“I could not best a Mortem. Nobody can. If you have a remote chance, you've got to make it weigh in your favor.” A smirk played about her lips, weak though she was. “I won the match.”
“You did not. Enchanted weapons are banned from the tournament.”
“Then why did nobody know it until a smith—a new one, I might add—recognized it?” Her question carried little merit, however.
“Lifesap is an enchantment which has not been seen or documented in quite some time.” Gavilis answered quickly. “It is long enough for the populous to forget, as the vampire threat had been nearly wiped out.”
“Nearly?”
“Yes. The defense matrix has been good to us, as you should be.”
“You think you know.” Eloise leaned against the wall, her confidence rising from deep in her gullet. “But even you could not hope to--”
“If you spill, I will let you eat and go home.” Gavilis tapped his fingers impatiently against his knee, his tone shifting.
“...Yes, quite. Valtieri forged it. He gave it to me and convinced me to enter. His argument was: 'You could redeem yourself in the eyes of the public and reclaim your Delacroix name.' I bought what he had to sell.” Eloise shrugged.
“How many more vampires are in hiding?”
“Many.”
“Estimate.”
“...Many.”
She must not know how to count very high, or she actually has no idea. Gavilis analyzed. He stood upright. His emerald gaze tore through her, confidence being replaced by fear. Magic weaved about his hands as the blood within the bowl forced itself down her throat. Her body felt rejuvenated, though distraught, as her eyes blankly stared at the wall adjacent to her. The corners of her mouth were covered by foam and she fell unconscious.
Gavilis exited the room quickly. He motioned for Arden and Rena.
“Her clothes and armor.” Gavilis then shifted to Gelehrter, who seemed at a loss for words. “After they clothe her, help me clean her up and get her out of here.”
“But sir, surely she knew more?” Arden asked.
“Not enough to keep her longer, her usefulness was wearing thin.” Gavilis then entered the room again.
Rena and Arden hurried after him, Eloise's clothes and armor in hand. They hastily unchained her, clothed her, fitted her armor to her frame—Rena took the time to quickly clean her wrists, mouth and other areas of dirt. Gelehrter lifted her ankles while Gavilis took the arms. They heaved her into the observation room onto the floor. Gavilis gently pushed them aside. He waved his hands about, her body suddenly vanishing after a few complex incantations.
“...What in Sanctuary's name did you do?” Arden whispered.
“Sent her to a tavern, the one nearby. It is a trusted place for Justicar and I have an arrangement with the owner. If a strange body appears there, alive or dead, they are taken care of.” Gavilis smirked.
“Sir, I must speak with Ovelia concerning a mission we must partake. Please test Arden while I am away.” Rena unfastened her own weapon and held it aloft for Arden to take. She blinked and grasped the sheathed weapon. Without further delay she was gone.
Gavilis then answered by drawing his blade. The observation room had nary any space for a duel, as the table was only a few feet away.
“Sir, Rena just gave you orders.” Arden appeared to panic, but she unsheathed her weapon. Cold sweat beaded down her forehead.
“Nay, it was her intention to leave you here while she is briefed.” He assumed his stance.
He led the prayer.
“''O, Lord, bless this conflict. Ensure no harm comes to those who uphold your holy word. May the victor grant wisdom to the living.'” Gavilis lunged, his sword seeming to escape his grasp.
Arden was met with a fist to her gullet as she blocked the attack. She fell into a coughing fit but recovered quickly.
She swung in a wide arc and missed purposefully, turning about to sweep his leg with her foot. The confined space however only allowed for her boot to crash into a counter.
Their steel met in a shower of sparks, Gavilis shoving her into the table.
She crashed into the surface and turned, his sword cutting into the wood with ease. He feinted with a step forward, his pommel clashing with her shoulder.
He showed me mercy. Gelehrter concluded, his back to the door to the interrogation room.
For a spell, only the sound of steel was heard. Arden grunted as another fist met her stomach, her visage rising into a scarlet.
Gavilis appeared to wait for her to recover. The instant had been given and Arden stepped past a vertical cut. With a singular slice to his chest, the longsword shattered. The Blessed Star of Sanctuary emblazoned on his chest shone brightly for an instant as his conviction guarded him.
“Ah...good, good...” The Grandmaster of the Justicar smiled. “I have no words to say. It has been some time since I have crossed swords with a Mortem and lived. It was my intention to end the fight quickly, but you prevailed.”
Arden panted heavily, the hilt of Rena's blade shaking in her hands. She feigned confidence and grinned like a clown. “A-Aye...”
“Come, you have a blade to replace and a briefing to attend.” Gavilis shooed them out of the interrogation room and into the darkness.
The two stood in the hallway in silence.
“...Did I win?” Arden asked no one in particular and seemed at a loss.
Gelehrter shook his head and headed off to the lift. She followed suit shortly after, holding the broken weapon in her hand. With a press of a button, the elevator doors opened. They stepped inside and pulled the lever, the lift taking them away.
“You do not talk much.” Arden observed.
“I choose to listen.” Gelehrter said.
Arden made no other attempts to continue as the doors opened again. They strode from the elevator and into brighter halls, the torches seeming to welcome them. Massive metallic doors met them soon afterward and opened as they approached.
The fireplace in the living area cackled with a blaze. In the corner of the room was an unusual mass of flowers which had been placed on various tables carelessly. The familiar portrait of Ernald glowered at them dubiously, his lapis lazuli gaze appearing gentle.
Rena spotted them and rushed to Arden, holding out her hand.
“...He--”
“I know, give it here.” Rena motioned again. She sighed as she surveyed the damage to the blade. The majority of the weapon was useless as the blade had broken near the hilt.
Ovelia stood upright and smiled as she spotted her daughter. “Good to see you well again, dear. Come, I must brief all of you on your mission.”
They took to their respective seats on the couch across from the Sanguine Overlord. She sipped at a mug of coffee, sighing heavily.
“The Council wishes for me to have a Royal Vizier. Though I am loathe to oblige them, I must fill the role. Many candidates sent me letters, gifts, flowers, promises...the list goes on. One however caught my eye. In their letter to me, they briefly mentioned something we all have had quite an interest in for some time: 'I will aid in all mundane matters, as is my want, but I request full privilege of the Grand Library, for I wish to research magic. I am formidable in the art of magic and have some expertise in the studies of Wrath of the Ancients.' Her name is Accalia. I am told she is a Mortem, a snow elf. I don't know if either of those details are correct, but your mission is to escort her to the Citadel safely from the Northern District.” Ovelia explained and as Wrath of the Ancients left her lips, Rena's eyebrow rose.
“What knowledge does she have of Wrath of the Ancients? I thought they were all destroyed, my Overlord.” Rena inquired.
“Most, I believe have been. All of the machines which were destroyed were carefully documented.”
“Mother--”
“I am your Sanguine Overlord as of this moment. Your are my Justicar, though new as you are. You will refer to me by my title or not at all.” Ovelia's words stung Arden deeply, but she recovered quickly.
“My Overlord, I am...aware...of the need for a Royal Vizier. Could it be that they wish to spy on you?” Arden's question was met with silence.
“That has been noted. You will leave from here and head to the Northern town of Burm. Snow elves will greet you and before you go, I would recommend learning some semblance of their formalities. Do not let them think Justicar are fools.” Ovelia nodded to them. “Be swift.”
“Yes, my Overlord.” Rena and Gelehrter stood from their place to leave. Arden however remained seated.
“...My Overlord, if I may.” She addressed her superior and mother at the same time. “I wish to have a blade commissioned. One which will not break.”
“All weapons have a point where they will not function any longer. Such things only exist in myth.” Ovelia stood and barely was able to escape from her daughter's persistence. “Be swift. I have a Council meeting to attend.”
“I wish to have a visit with Ana before we leave.” Arden growled, turning now to Rena.
“Aye, I wish it as well. Arden does not have a weapon and neither do you.” Gelehrter commented.
“I will allow it. Let us be off then!” Rena motioned for them to follow after her. The group exited the Sanguine Overlord's living area and toward the lift. They accompanied her into the gigantic chamber after the elevator released them. Knights, their squires, Council members, mages, a gaggle of individuals were running amok with worry in their eyes or hurry in their legs. Weaving through the crowd and heading down the stone stairs leading out of the Citadel, they headed for Ana's smithy.
“It is a shame we don't have much leave before a new mission.” Gelehrter commented.
“Indeed, but I am glad for it.” Rena replied.
The skies were dotted with sparse clouds. All manner of people were gathered in the market, whether they wished to purchase produce or other oddities. Spits roasted massive animals and spun lazily as the cooks monitored the meat. Various merchants tried in vain to reach customers and everyone had an item to haggle.
Bartering was common as many would trade livestock for vegetables or clothing. Elves often parted with their wines or cloth for dwarven crafts.
Arden halted for an instant.
“What is the matter?” Rena asked.
“Do you believe I am cut out for this?”
“An odd question, but we are in a hurry. I will answer it for you when we see Ana.” The eldest of the three motioned for her to trail behind her. “You and I will duel. Often Justicar duel one another in closed locations to either practice or assert an opinion. Perhaps it is time for a formal lesson.”
“Formal? You usually hand me a book to read.” Gelehrter pouted, crossing his arms.
“Aye, it is because you are hard of hearing no matter what I try to cram in that puny brain of yours.” Rena remarked, heading in the general direction of Ana's smithy. The streets farthest from the markets were filled with children playing and running about. Smoke rose from chimneys high overheard, carriages rolling by. They greeted Rena and her company, taking notice of the Justicar's Blessed Star.
“Hail, Justicar!”
“How are you today, Justicar?” They did not ask for her name. Most would not give their name if asked, as it was taboo to jeopardize their missions.
“I am well. How are you today?” Forms of this reply left Rena as she ventured onward. As she rounded a corner into an alleyway, however, she deactivated the protective spell. Her mail hauberk, covered by a tabard emblazoned by the Blessed Star of Sanctuary, was worn in many areas. Often she mended her pants or clothes when the time arose. She tugged on her belt and tightened it before she emerged from the alley.
“You forgot to remove your Justicar's garb, didn't you?” Gelehrter teased.
“Hush. I am the superior here, not you.” Rena grumbled.
Arden was unimpressed.