Terrianis pondered as he glided between the proud magusos of the Order of Maghia’s Truth lined along the lofty walls of the Grand Cathedral. All stood in silence, their arms making a downward arc, their fingers furled, entwined before their hip whilst their hooded and masked heads hung down in a funereal manner. A solemn silence settled this minor event of Terrianis visiting to pry open the mind rid of its self.

  Draped in ceremonial coats of leather and processed silken, ending on the bottom with an uneven hemline edged with golden, beneath it a dim purple inlaid with golden brindled runes, geometrical arkhaine symbols whilst on the top, a layered collar arose resembling an open time with its myriad pages inscribed with arkhaine secrets. From its roots, the cloak sprouted cascading seamlessly over their diagonal closure on the front and towards their back bearing the symbol of the Order – the Mystical All-Seeing Eye – and the large hood of seven infused and overlapping layers lined with golden filigree. Beneath it, a shirt they wore, its only part visible, the collar slithering about their necks in with parts of rose petals blossoming, folding outwards.

  Though his eyes focused on the descending path, a childish curiosity led his eyes towards their faces shadowed by their massive three-layered hoods, a metallic mask fastened over their eyes giving them a slight avian look whilst a translucent indigo cloak draped before their lips and cheeks.

  “We appreciate the effort this must tolled on the grand endeavors of the Order, but for a visit this small – it is needless.” He whispered towards Angura who followed in his tail, carefully not to step on the hem dragged across the freshly mopped floor.

  “Worry not my Elhyrissiar, neither of them research anything of importance or of substance.” Angura replied in his usual, sibilant, husky voice whilst his eyes opened only partially revealing the azure pearls ornamenting its center.

  “That much we have guessed. More importantly, how many of them could you vouch for to not slip it into the ears of our enemies.” To this, he could not answer. Angura knew their names, whence they came from, but whether they were compromised or not, that eluded even him.

  “I believe most of these sisters and brothers still yet to be sworn into any of the circles. Many of them come from the plebeian who were lucky enough to be seen by the One and the Eight and be gifted with a meager Tether.” Sussuovar interjected in his own whispery voice distinctly devoid of all emotions – yet Angura could sense venom in each syllable that left his brother’s surreptitious mouth. He could not answer more than a slight nod visible in the edge of his father’s stretched vision.

  Before long, the three draevhe of multifarious power arrived to their destination, the morgue holding the truly living dead body of the assassin who foolishly attempted to extinguish his heir, his dearest child. With a downward swipe of his right hand, both knew he wished to be alone in the damp chamber and as such remained still as he entered. A murmur of steps followed upon the closure of door as Angura ordered away the needless ceremonial gathering of brothers and sisters.

  “Foul bed for a foul woman.” He whispered to himself, slowly nearing towards the naked mindless aevhe whose dagger never left it sheath. She laid motionless, still as a corpse yet upon touch, he felt the warmth of the dragons and even rolled up the lids carefully and stared right into those vacant, crimson eyes. Even though he knew there was no will left in the soul and body, unease lingered in his heart, its cold breath dewed his spine.

  Moments passed in utter silence, as he stared into those eyes, reluctant to peer into the mind rid of its will and self. She was not the first who attempted the foolish endeavor against his family–even himself experienced and faced many would-be killers whose only legacy was his memories the moment their bodies evaporated in a myriad different manner. Some turned into charred silhouettes on the white walls of his room; some bled as their organs turned to sharp stone with a desire for freedom from the yoke of their bones and tendon. The thought was sudden and paled his warm visage looming over the assassins.

  Unauthorized duplication: this tale has been taken without consent. Report sightings.

  As he banished the dark memory, the thought he focused back and tensed his fingers decorated with dozens of gilded, jeweled rings. Lustrous rubies, enigmatic opals, dreadful jets, and mesmerizing emeralds sat in them, great spells dancing within their gleaming confines, yet even those, calming spells could not erase the words of the Oracle, bring him the bravery needed to break free from the hold of stirring, rising dread. Terrianis inhaled deeply the perfumed air, and as it gently parched his throat, he pressed his fingers against the temples of mindless assassin.

  From his tips, etheric needles numbering in the hundreds and thousands by the second protruded and penetrated into her unblemished skin veiled by her dark, ominous hair. The gentle feeling of weightlessness braced his body and soul in tandem, and upon opening his mind’s eye, found himself partially in the dark maze of memories, slowly crumbling and fading away. Led by haste, he flapped through them like pages of a tome, grimoire as most were inconsequential to his desire for confirmation.

  In most of the fleeting, crumbling memories Terrianis recognized the assassin operating in the spire city of Phyrgos, lessening its nobilos and merchants until he slowed the pace, recognizing the sewage system he himself inspected once it was finished by the Earth-Callers. “It is no simple task, but I assure you, my Lord shall make sure the Elhyrissiar shan’t sense your true intentions.” A soft feminine voice echoed through the tunnel, bouncing off the damp, dark marble walls.

  Before his eyes a human of exceptional looks appeared in a long, flowing toga of crimson and black, her skin pale as the Lunarius. Prominent dark eyes stared languidly at the assassin; an assuring smile adorned her crimson lips, dark brownish strands gathered into a regal bun atop her head. Terrianis frowned as he sensed and recognized the foulness of Dusk lingering all about the woman. A sigh escaped him, as deeply down he wished it would have been some foolish nobilos, instead of another agent of the Nightscale.

  Once more his brewing anger needed to be smothered, Terrianis had to be patient until the Almodo’s Chosen arrived and began their training under his tutelage and watch. “With this, they should also suspect nothing upon your wish for employment.” Then as he prepared to leave the crumbling mind of the assassin, the woman lifted out a small parcel from the inner fold of her toga. Terrianis stood aghast and stupefied at first, staring at the imperial seal upon the parcel, an arising ring occupied by the head of a dragon with crested forehead, four horns arising and melding into the rim in a deep bluish-purple shade.

  The seal of his once dearest child, Quarrianis.

  His first thought being that the woman stole it, forged it surfaced in Terrianis’s mind, but it vanished at once, knowing Quarrianis who once occupied the place in his heart where now Aurelithae sat. Deep breaths he took as his blood boiled, wishing to give him the benefit of the doubt. A proper investigation needed to go down, to find out whether the furtive agents of the Nightscale managed forging or stealing one of his imperial seals or he turned against them after Aurelithae took his place.

  Exiting from the vision, Terrianis turned towards Angura who stood statuesque at first glance. But in truth, he strained all his muscles and will to remain still in the onslaught of his father’s will poisoned by his choked anger. “Call upon Sussuovar. We have a task most imperative.”

  “May we ask what you witnessed in the memories of this scoundrel?” Angura asked after a short silence to gather his strength to speak.

  “The enemy infiltrated not just our beloved capital, but even Phyrgos’s splendor is wreathed in the shadows of Dusk.” Terrianis began, his nose flaring, sparks gathering about and manifesting for the naked eye. Before he continued, he pondered a little, then brought up the question manifested in his mind. “Tell us Angura, do you remember who employed or how this handmaiden got into the service of my dear Aurelithae?”

  Angura cupped his sharp chin before answering. “I believe she was a gift from Quarrianis.” Uttering the name, he raised one brow realizing why his father asked such a question. “Do you think Quarrianis betrayed us?”

  “A possibility. But we wish he simply committed a lesser sin of not being as vigilant as before.” Terrianis answered.

  “I shall call upon brother then!” He bowed as Terrianis vanished. Within the confined throne room, released his anger. Fires bellowed like a dragon, the water shifted into flames of wrathful shades.

  Another week, another chapter begins. A short one, focusing on Terrianis finding out who commissioned Vipsaeril.

  A chapter I nearly cut out, as I kinda forgot if I mentioned Quarrianis in the side story before the prologue. Thankfully, I ended it before the reveal. So it still had some place in the story.

  And originally this was meant to be a longer chapter, but the second half became the interlude. In hindsight could have added in another vision, but at this point, I am mostly just focusing on the third volume. So no big changes, just some grammar fixes, changing sentences that feel awkward.

  Regarding Quarrianis, he will get a few more mentions, but he is a major character for the third volume. Possibly a friend or an adversary to Eadwald.

  Tomorrow's chapter is a longer one, focusing on Aurelithae post theft/heist, in a meeting with Grimslaukh, Mirayroth and Naghig. More of a slow chapter.

  Thank you for reading this, and hope you enjoyed the chapter. Take care and have a good night or day folks!

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