The Wielder of Death Magic

Chapter 345: Letter

“You asked for me, majesty?”

“Gabrielle,” Staxius gave a nod acknowledging her presence, “-care to wait a few minutes?” asked courteously, in no way could she refused. Coughed and unstable on her feet, Serene helped in fetching a chair for the guest. Narrowly gazing upon the laboratory, the puppets spoke volumes in terms of intimidation. Glimpsing back and forth inside where he worked, the eyes felt drowsy.

“Ready,” the door opened with a whistle. “I’ve got the cure,” he smiled and walked to she who sat.

“Cure for what?” paused, she scoured her memories for answers, “-oh, yeah, the supposed antidote,” breathing a painful sigh, her watery eyes oozed of fatigue.

“You’re far worse than the other vampires, what happened?” inquired with a warm stance, her mind felt at ease.

“It’s not that bad, majesty, I appreciate the concern,” she turned to the side as to avoid the conversation.

“Is that so,” paused with the hand holding his chin, “-sure, if thou wish not to discuss, then we’ll leave it as is.” Taking a step closer, “-here,” he handed a scroll, “-why don’t you give it a try.”

.....

“What is it exactly, majesty?”

“Immunity to sunlight,” said nonchalantly, she gave an instant frown.

“Immunity, sire?” asked with narrowed eyes, her doubt was more than obvious.

“Yes, immunity. I heard that thee longed to stroll out in the sun as the days of old. Tis thy chance. Besides, if it works on you, I’m sure it’ll work on anyone else.”

“That’s a fair assessment,” reclined, “-are you sure it’s safe?” she coughed.

“Yeah,” he smiled.

“I’ll trust you,” inhaling deeply as to clear her mind, the ribbon holding the paper was unraveled. Pulled horizontally, a purplish light emanated from the center.

“It didn’t work,” she peered over the scroll, “-majesty, the scroll isn’t working.”

“No, it’s working alright,” pointing at her arms, the purple light had traveled to her neck. It went through her body as if veins, the glow differed in intensity. High to then low, it mimicked a heartbeat.

“What’s happening...” soon, the light would wrap itself around her body. A cocoon of mana drawn from the atmosphere. There was a certain feeling of bliss in that confined space. A moment of happiness, a moment where every single problem turned naught.

“Is it working?” asked Serene intently staring the process.

“Should be ready in three...two...one,” a blinding light enveloped the room the instant he said one. Forced away, the light only grew more.

“W-what is this?” came a softened voice. Murky black hair turned silky, the face which remained hidden revealed. Oval with sharp contours, eyes as grey as the full-moon, a petite dead-tree symbol in between her eyebrows, “-I feel better,” she said in disarray.

“I supposed the formula made expressly for you worked,” he laughed.

“Expressly for you?” turned Serene, “-please don’t tell me that you’ve spent two weeks finding a cure to Lady Gabrielle’s trouble?” vivid to slothful, she stared intently.

“What of the others?” stood the lady in a flash, “-don’t tell me it’s so,” voiced with the same worry of a relative, her hands pressed and intertwined as if praying. Very much confused by what happened, the two walked and stood in front of Staxius with a slightly hunched posture. It gave the feeling of a mother scolding her child. Round and round, the words flowed in one ear and out the other, the noise grew so bad he clapped. The sudden action broke the cacophony of the avalanche of senseless drivel. Frowned, they took a step back and waited with arms on their hips.

“I didn’t spend all my time making a cure for Lady Gabrielle. I had to do so, the low-breed, forgive their soul, need a healthy leader. One who can lead them to safety, one who can protect and one who can safeguard their survival,” pointing to the left, next to the Alchemy room, “-there’s a box filled with scrolls and potions. Take them to the people, say tis a gift from the king. The boon of immunity from the sun, we’re at war, don’t forget. Arda can strike without us knowing. That’s the reason I need all the clan leaders to be healthy.”

“Should have expected as much,” sighed Serene with a lighter visage.

“As you wish, majesty,” quick on her feet, Gabrielle left the laboratory in search of assistants.

“The boon of immunity against the sun. The wonder and utmost privilege given only to pure-bred. Not today, every nightwalker should have the chance to walk out in the open.”

“It’s a good sentiment,” spoken with a worried tone, “-don’t you think they may take it for granted?”

“For granted, who knows and who cares,” he patted her shoulder, “-the people must get what they want. I won’t stop if they want revenge, go out and suck blood o’ plenty,” paused to stare out a map plastered on the wall ominously, “-I have faith in the vampires. They know the sufferance of being shunned and accused of vile acts. Light in dark times will lift their spirits.”

“If that’s what his majesty wishes, then tis will be what he gets,” she bowed and left the room.

Hours later, boxes filled with scrolls were put at the Tied by Blood, clan-house. A mansion of which had its tiled roof coming apart. The yard, desert with a singular tree with no leaves, stood eerily over the line of people. The latter stretched all around the mansion. Tactful with care to decorum, each was given the boon. Flashes of light shone monotonously till night arrived.

“Brother, brother,” leaped off one tree to another, “-are we there yet?” asked a girl with a hooded cloak.

“Soon, sister,” said the other with the same clothes. Night sprawled around the province. Deserted without any torch nor sign of life, a broken-down railing came in view. *If thou wish death, do approach,* was written on a hung sign. The outer perimeter of Noctis’s Hallow. It changed suddenly from normal forestry to one viler and dense. Compact to the point one couldn’t see far, a labyrinth. Cold and blood-thirsty gazes slammed itself on their backs. They who jumped and leaped from tree to tree had more on their plate. Bats flew, vultures and crows voiced their intent, the smell of decomposing bodies stained the air.

Meanwhile, after another hour, “-Lady Fawn,” panted over a guard, “-we’ve captured intruders,” he entered her private chambers.

“What do you mean intruders?” she voiced dressed in a risqué nightgown. Lord Balthazar laid on the bed with a book.

“Two children made it across the forest,” he breathed.

“Across the forest,” quick to slip into a heavy coat, “-let’s go,” she ordered with a sword.

“Take a scarf, you might catch a cold,” added the old man in jest.

“Shove it.”

Running down the hall towards the exit, “-ma’am, is the rumor true?”

“If tis about me and the old man getting back together,” she jumped upon closing the stairs, “-then no,” landing on the wall, she leaped adroitly across the other flight of stairs. Left in her dust, the guard came to a walking pace.

“What’s the matter?” she asked coming up to the door. A crowd had gathered near the fountain with the king at the center. The report went to all the clan-leaders. Shackled by chains, the figures were brought by her men.

“Lady Fawn,” nodded Staxius, “-I heard that thy men captured intruders?”

“Yes, I’ve only just got the information,” she rejoined with the group.

“And I suppose that’s the excuse for the rather chilly outfit.”

“Majesty,” sighed Serene on the other side, “-tis no time to make silly jokes.”

“I suppose,” seeing the intruder approach, the face grew blank. An aura of superiority rose with a semi-transparent figure peering over his shoulder.

“Who are these mysterious people?” asked the spirit with a seductive tone.

“Intherna,” he whispered, “-why are you here, don’t you need sleep?”

“Leave me alone,” her voice echoed with a touch of infancy, “-lemme watch.”

‘Lemme watch,’ he thought, ‘-quite a peculiar phrasing. Lemme watch, what is she thinking?’

“Majesty,” interjected one of the guards, “-these two came in barging for an audience.”

“An audience,” he stood a step forth. The night sky didn’t help, the stairs were aimless trying to provide a bit of night. Sadly, only the faint lamps on the pavements provided solace. “Who are you?”

“Majesty,” instantly on their knee, “-we’ve come with news,” said the boy with a girlish voice.

“I care not,” he voiced thunderously, “-state thy name first.”

“The Enbalar siblings, sire.”

‘Enbalar...’ paused to think, memories of their encounter in Dorchester came in mind. “I see. Remove the hoods and unshackle the handcuffs, these two come from the capital.”

“Sire,” interjected Alaric, “-if they hail from the capital, reason states that they must be spies.”

“They are spies,” he nodded, “the Enbalar siblings are spies.” He faced the mansion, “-nevertheless, we’ll keep them around,” peered over the shoulder, “-on whose behalf are you here, the queen, the general, or the people.”

“The people, my liege.”

“Good,” to that, they headed inside. A secluded room with two beds, a bookshelf, and very minimalistic surroundings. The window was rectangular which curved at the top. Lined with railings, breaking in and out would be a hassle. The faint light from the outside highlighted the dust and hopelessness of said chamber. The floor, made of wood opposed to the other rooms where it was of marble, had an unnerving creek each time someone walked.

“What’s the reason you’re here?” asked Staxius sat on an armchair with one feet on the other.

“We came to deliver a message,” replied the brother with nervous tapping of the foot.

“Surely you know that Arda’s at odds with us. Why did you think upon crossing that border? You could have died, are you stupid?”

“Majesty,” said the sister shyly, “-we don’t care if we live or die. The capital is in utter chaos. Everything is written in this letter; we were sent per the Academy’s order.”

“Is Clareville involved?”

“No,” replied the brother, “-all educational institutes were exempted from the tyranny that ensued. The people were slaughtered without mercy.”

“I understand,” he paused to read the letter. It detailed everything from start to the moment of it being written. It ended with Kreston’s the enemy; they’re planning more than a takeover of Arda. One of the maids overheard that the Saints were planning to send troupes to Dorchester. ” Signed by Youst, the image of what happened became clearer.

“What about the orphanages, they don’t provide money and are run off charity, are they ok?” he asked rather adamantly.

“We have no idea, sire,” replied the sister.

“It may well be in ruins; a lot of people were evicted to the harshness of the wild. There are rumors of a dungeon where people who resist end up as playthings for the Keeper. Many who enter never leave and those who leave are in a body bag.”

‘Damn,’ memories of a child came to mind, one who held his golden pocket watch. Yaeger Aebalar and her sister who was in the underground. Their family was tied to him for he killed their mother as a necessity. ‘All those kids might die for naught,’ side glancing the door, a momentary impulse came forth. One of sprawling out the room and fight the Capital alone. It would work because of the boon of immortality. Even so, even more, people would die, the kingdom would fall as opposed to being relieved. At that moment, a picture of Xula came in mind. Two prime examples of her soft-heart sat on beds. In no way was she going to let the kids be harmed; especially since she was a mother.

“I suppose that’s all you were asked to report?”

“Yes, my liege.”

“Are you returning to the capital?”

“No, it would be a death trap,” said the brother with a worried face.

“You’re not going to stay here, that’s for sure,” he stood, “-I’ll come up with something. Might have to wait a few more days,” the door opened, “-don’t worry, the people won’t bite you.”

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