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Fyra
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Eleforian Elite Guard
Brian followed Whisper without question. Her voice had come out as an order, and it was obeyed as so many had been since he had come to the order as an orphan at the age of eight. The light dimmed, and they approached the entrance to the shrine. Brian frowned. The stories said that it was blocked by brambles and had only a small trail to it... But looking around, he saw that even if it had remained that way in the years since it had been consecrated, the battles that had been fought here, on the ground in front of it, would have cleared the area. The first step into the labyrinth was strange. Brian felt a wash of...something. Pressure descended upon him, and he glanced around, almost expecting there to be cobwebs.

He didn't expect there to be bones, even as few as there were now. He didn't expect the man-shaped blasts of magic fire residue on the walls. As Whisper stepped over the skull, he nearly tripped over it, stumbling as he realized what it was. Swiftly, he swallowed, and tried to keep composure, as if it had never happened.

Stepping into the altar room, Brian paused, flinching back as a shadow wisp flickered in the lantern light. One hand dropped to his sword, the other reached up and clasped the medallion that hung around his neck. His eyes opened wide as vague images came through the room. He could recognize the Mad Lion, standing at the altar, overlaying his daughter's body. There was fervent fire in his eyes, blood covering him, and a dead man sprawled across the altar, his heart cut out. An unfamiliar, dark haired woman, tall and graceful, held a tome in her hand, open to a page. Even as she held it, a streak of white was growing in her hair.

Fear ran through him, and Brian gritted his teeth. Whisper would not have brought him to a cursed place. She, herself, seemed so very comfortable, as though the room brought her peace. The presence that swirled around him pulsed and the young man forced himself to step forward, to let go of his sword, though he continued to hold the medallion around his chest so hard it was putting dents into his skin. His voice was quiet, and echoed eerily to his own ears. "Why would the Cult of the Blood ever have anything to do with your father? Aside, obviously, from this... I mean, before. Who betrayed him?"

----

Echo nodded as she thought, still moving towards her destination. She was unsure if she should try to introduce the new young nobleman tonight or the next party. For safety's sake, decided it would be better to wait a few days. Rodney was hosting many small parties, and it would be no large thin for a new nobleman, perhaps one from the south, to come and experience someplace new. She would have to speak about it with Rhondo in any case. "Well, learn the servant's clothing. You can pass unseen if you are a footman or page. Nobody pays attention to them.' her lips barely moved, and her voice didn't make it past the sound of her bells chiming gently as they walked. In a few more moments they would be at the gathering, and he would either have to shift his disguise or go to the barracks.
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Respite · Phenvast City


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