Setting
The Throne at the center is that of the Ruling monarch, in this case the current Queen, the Lady Briena. The Throne at her left is that of her sister, the Princess and Regent of the Kingdom. The Throne on her right, the dominant side, would be that of her king. It sits empty, vacant.
Three wide steps lead up from the floor to the dais platform, comprised of yet more silver and gold veined marble, and the dais itself is set back against the wall, behind it a great tapestry of the family.
The windows are of stained glass - a great finery in a world where glass requires much work to make in any high quality - depicting scenes of great import; from the victory over the Orcs during the Orric War a thousand years ago, to the newest depiction of the Queen's Coronation. In the morning and the evenings, the light striking through these windows throws brilliant shows of colored light through the air and onto the floors, sending the gold and silver sparkling delicately.
The hall, in all, is about two thousand feet wide by four thousand feet long, and while large, is easily packed on days of the audiences. Lining the walls under the windows are padded benches and chairs, there for courtiers and lords to rest their feet.
To the right of the dais is a heavy black oak door, it's hinges polished and oiled steel. This door leads into a wide corridor, lined with windows looking out into a lush garden filled with flowers during the warmer seasons, and a few autumn and winter blooming varieties of flowers, before the corridor leads up a flight of stairs and deeper into the castle's array of chambers, rooms, alcoves and suites.
Through a small arboreal archway at the right wall, is a hedge lined path into a small flower garden, roses of all varieties blooming and bringing a heady scent to the area, the sweet smells filtering into the Hall during the Spring and Summer, though a spelled veil of silk covers the entrance during the cold seasons, letting none of the chill inside while allowing for fresh air to enter.
On the left wall of the Audience hall, a wide archway leads to a great ball room, the chamber more like a solarium in that the great, wide room is walled and and roofed in glass, allowing the light of day to fill the room.
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As the last lace was tied, the Queen took a breath, relieved that the fashions of Serenia didn't follow with many human fashions of tight, restrictive corsetry and bodices that made breathing and moving so difficult. The bodice of this down clung delicately to her form, the neck low, the shoulders left bare. The fabric continued to cling until midway down her hips, whereupon the skirts fell in an elegant drape, a court train whispering behind her as she moved toward the seat, settling gracefully before Ardellia and allowing the maid to do her hair, weaving the silken, fiery red waves into a modest arrangement. Finally, the Queen's Circlet was settled on her head, encircling the crown of her skull, gems and gold glittering against the red hair.
Today was a day for receiving audiences, and settling disagreements, rare though they were. Whether her guardian followed or not, Briena descended the stairs to the Audience Hall, climbing the three steps to the dais and settling into the throne that was hers. Her back was straight, her bearing regal, her fathomless, vivid sapphire eyes sweeping the grand hall as those Lords who were on their rotation for court this week took their places in the room, awaiting the first Audience's beginning.
The herald at the other end of the hall stepped into the room, clearing his throat and calling out in a clear tenor voice. "Daelis Taraveyn of Riverside" She sat up, spine stiffening before she forced herself to relax. The man had not been to blame in her near death experience in the Early autumn. Someone in a guise of the groundskeeper had lured her away, on the belief that his daughter was drowning in the river. The real Daelis had been found unconscious with a bump on his head. All they could draw from him was 'Grey, Many Moons.'
The man entered, grey eyes seeking her out as he walked down the room along the fine royal blue carpet that stretched between the doors and the dais. His hands, she noticed, wrung the floppy brimmed hat he favored, though his face and eyes carried joy.. As he reached the bottom of the dais, the Queen smiled at him as he bowed respectfully. 'Lady, I bring news of great joy. My wife and I are expecting again.' And so the day began. She just hoped the rest of it would be just as good.
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The calls of the crickets and frogs filled the night air, and the warm summerâs sun hid beneath the horizon, waiting for the call of morning. Flowers were in full bloom, and the birds sung their sweet siren song from the trees. A warm summerâs breeze stirred from the west just as the sun rose up over the lush wooded mountains to the east; and the sound of silence still fell across Skysong City, but fresh news traveled from the south. âYou lived for a reason. There will be a time where Snow will guard the Rose, and cherish it.â As the caravan rolled through the southern gates, heâd caught the briefest glimpse of fiery red hair in the corner of his eye, akin to the prophet who had spoken those words to him so long ago. It was only later that same morning he learned what heâd seen belonged to King Lionelâs granddaughter, Briena, who he was asked to protect the very same day. Thirteen years later, there he stood, still forever by her side. And cherish her he did.
Lost in reverie, Titan begun to recall the moment he met Queen Briena. For over two-hundred years he had loyally served under her grandfather King Lionel, and all it took was his granddaughter to radically alter the course of his life. It had been true, that he cherished her more than the sun did the sky; willing to even put his life before her own. Locked in the confines of his room, he stood overlooking the balcony like he had many times before. Arms outstretched, what appeared to be grains of shimmering blue sand hugged his form as his breastplate appeared across his chest, followed by a set of metal grieves and sabatons to match. His armament was made from the finest metals in Aedillon; and with his navy-blue, gold ornamented scabbard on his back, a glimmering claymore appeared in his hands, which he quickly sheathed.
As he closed the doors to the balcony and returned to his room, the visage of an ornate crown began to appear on his head. With a usual stoic scowl on his face, whitish-blue locks cascaded over his shoulders and stretched halfway down his back; framing his face, strands hung in his left eye, guarding the dark crimson red hue that lay beneath. His right eye on the other hand was a completely different color altogether, a deep oceanic blue that seemed to flicker with a sense of determination. With snow-white skin, a single scar ran just below his right eye, something he had endured during his time with the Queen. Able to sense Briena leaving her room, he waited several seconds before slowly trailing after her, descending the stairs leading down to the Audience Hall.
To the left hand of the Queen he stood, towering over many of the guests that filled the great hall. Titan was a colossus, and much taller than most elves. With a menacing presence, he kept his eyes peeled on the crowd, a hand over the hilt of his blade as he waited in preparation. Although most were simple citizens of Serenia, it only took one to try something stupid and find his blade planted in their skull. For now, he knew his place, to stand there and say nothing as the Queen went about her business mingling with all the wretches who had come to ask something of her. The only thing that went through his head was the fact that thankfully, he wasnât a king himself. There was no way he could handle such responsibility. His place was on the battlefield, soaking in the blood of his enemies. Or, at the Queenâs side. Fortunately, he had the stomach for either.
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He was unremarkable of features and could have easily been mistaken as a farmer, with only green eyes to set him apart from the crowd that he wandered among, one hand kept on his cloak to keep it from being trodden. While an unfortunate trip wouldn't dampen his mood, it would bring attention to him and that was rather the last thing he wished to deal with right now. No, he had something much more important on his mind.
A chance encounter along the roads of the surrounding lands had put him in the rather unfortunate position where he wished to plant himself right in the center of authority, at the attention of authority and see the queen. Being one who didn't make friends in the short and long term meant he would rather not be seen, but that wasn't an option anymore was it! The irritation brought an inescapable grin to his face as he joined the line of those who sought the audience of royalty to solve their petty problems. They were all terrible and should have just left. After all, she needed to hear about his petty problems.
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The hours trundled along, and as mid-day arrived, so came with it the near end of the line. And with that... Her head cocked slightly as she felt a familiar tread heading up the castle steps in her extended awareness. She knew that particular set of feet. A smile flashed across her face, as she refused to acknowledge that the last time she'd seen him, she and Patch had been harvesting apples when an impostor had led her to her almost death. But what could he be doing coming in through the front doors, and joining the line?
Her fathomless sapphire gaze flicked aside to Titan briefly while she settled a dispute over a loose mare having been covered by the other man's plow horse. The mare in this instance was a prized race-bred Courser, and the stallion was apparently not of the best breeding or conformation. How would her guardian react to Patch, she wondered. The two had never, in her knowledge, met. It would be interesting, she supposed.
Out in the hall, as the last supplicant before Patch left, a signed grant for land in hand and a giddy expression on his face, the herald gazed at the chestnut haired, presumably human man. "Your name, sir?" When given the name, he nodded, stepping to the door and slipping into the Hall, not letting the bemusement show on his face at giving such a name; "Ser.. Patch." At a nod from the Queen, he turned, pulling the door wide to admit the man, while knowing that his wife, one of the maids, would be giving him an earful tonight after she'd helped clean up the mud left behind by those boots.
The Queen's eyes glinted with amusement, having caught the faintest hint of a pause before saying Patch's name. Her eyes left the herald, settling on the man and giving him a swift once over with those fathomless sapphire pools, from the muddy boots, to the hand on the velvet case that held his cards, to the every present, wide grin on his face. "Patch." Warm welcome was evident in her tone of the name. Warmth and the faintest hint of wariness. What trouble had her adventuresome friend gotten himself into this time?
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Finally his head tilted back just slightly, the hood slipping back far enough to reveal his entire grinning face, full of youth and life that was married with a certain age. However it was this that made him very difficult to take seriously, as he rather didn't seem to be taking it seriously himself. It was much more likely that he was just trying to stir trouble and hysteria.
"All I ask is to have a minute of your time to reconvene into a less busy place so that I might divulge what I know."
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The whole affair had been rather uneventful, and by the sixth hour of accepting audiences, Titan had utterly tired of how dreary the dayâs festivities had already been. There was however one incident of excitement in the morning hours, as Titan had just so happened to dote upon the Queen and notice something out of place. With her plunging scoop neckline, her breasts were pressed against her fragile form, and Titan was able to make out the soft curves of the tops of her bosom. Unfortunately, in his time spent with her, heâd seen far more of her than he dared admit; their adventures together having lead them into the most peculiar circumstances. As he edged closer to her, he could just make out the scent of wild jasmine and vanilla radiating off her skin, the smell of the summer hayfields and lavender in her hair. It was almost admirable the way she could hold her head high, regardless of the dire straits that led her there.
As she prepared to entertain her final audience, there was something strange about the man who entered the grand hall next. He was average height for a human, young in appearance, with green eyes and chestnut brown hair. That wasnât what threw him off however. That grin was almost unsettling. And that way the Queen greeted him warmly. Did they perhaps know one another? There were very few friends the Queen had that he didnât know about. Although, there was that stint during the summer where he had to return home. Gods only knew what the Queen got herself into during that time. No matter, Titan knew his place. Standing tall, he eyed the man skeptically, and watched him very closely. There was just something off about him, something his intuition told him not to trust.
Itching to say something, he kept close guard of his claymore as he eyed the man, taking notice of the velvet case in his hands. A weapon of some sort perhaps? âA friend of yours?â Breaking the silence he had held over the course of the last several hours, he stepped off the platform beside the throne Queen Briena was seated in and ventured out into the hall. Standing in one place for so long had gotten the best of him, so he resorted to innocently circling Patch instead. There was just something about him he didnât like. Maybe it was the fact he was a man, and had any relation to the Queen whatsoever. Or the fact that he wanted to speak to her alone. "I'm not so sure I like the idea of putting you two in a room alone." Although Titan had no reservations, he was of a jealous nature when it came to the Queen. While Titan was a prince, he was in no position to rectify his feelings for the Queen; and he knew this. So, why he had them at all was as much a mystery as anything.
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Theatrical as ever, Patch spoke of a tragedy, hand still fiddling with his case. Though he kept his head bowed, face hidden, she had no need to see his face to know he was grinning hugely. As he straightened, she cocked her head, brows lifting. Titan, however stepped from his post, and she gave the Aedillonian a brief glance. *"Yes. I would call him a friend."* The tone of her mental voice was conversational, pleasant, but there was a warning to stay his hand.
Her eyes returned to Patch as he requested a more private setting. It was her break hour. She had no objections. After all, the both knew she could handle herself. However, Titan, despite all their years of knowing one another as ward and warden, still stubbornly clung to the notion that she could not defend herself. He voiced his disapproval almost immediately, and gained a sharp look from the Queen as a response.
"He is a friend, Titan, and I am on my break hour. I would like to get up and walk around, anyway." She leveled a direct look at the tall man as she rose, lifting the front of her skirts with easy elegance as she descended the three wide steps, revealing that she'd sneakily foregone the court slippers during dressing that morning, bare feet padding silently on the carpet as she approached Patch. She was taller than the grinning man be a few inches, but his personality almost gave him a way of being larger than life. It could be amusing, it could be irritating. It was Patch.
"If you would like to take this to the garden, I could use the fresh air, old friend." She nodded toward the arboreal archway to indicate her direction. "And perhaps a light meal." Had she eaten this morning? Perhaps a light snack of an apple while she'd stood on the balcony. She turned on Titan after a few steps, however, stopping long enough to lock eyes with the man and utter in a low, commanding tone, "Stay here."
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"Fear not," he said as he turned and guided a hand smoothly about to rest upon the curve of the Queen's back, "Your Queen and I will be done together long before an hour is up." With any implications meant by that left a mystery, he would quickly stroll for the gardens, if only to escape quick retaliation.
Finally free from the center stage he would relax and almost appear casual. "You know, with all the sneaking off you and I do together, your courts might start to think you have a secret lover," he quipped, followed by a side-long accusing glance leveled in her direction, "Though, I suppose that might drive off suitors..."
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Such a short amount of time passed, at least by the elder's standards, before he could hear footsteps re-entering the room behind the great door before him. First it was many steps with the sound of jewelry and noble attire bouncing about in volume, perhaps a dozen at most, four at the least. Then there was another pause. A very short pause. After it came the sounds of gentle steps, likely barefoot or shoes of soft leather with a second set that sounded bouncy and childish.
As the elder took in the moment, he looked around once again. There was a small way that he might be able to get in to the chamber without the door, and Torcus was certain that all the nobles he would find here today were within, but there were decorations on the wall. Decorations that look to not hold weight well and make plenty of noise when they fall. A perfect reason not to use that route.
Tap, tap, tap came the sound of what the lycan could only consider to be another elf looking to see their queen. The steps moved closer with each tap, but they were not taken with haste. After some period, the elf arrived and the doors opened.
As they finished their movement, Torcus bolted, silently, into the room. Moving around with the practiced step of an ambush predator, the runt moved about the seats of the nobles. As he stalked about them, waiting to hear names to ensure that he had found the right one, the lycan never neared the Queen. He had no interest in here beyond thanking her for making her city so easy to maneuver about.
As the elf got into his speaking position, the lycan began to slow. Beneath his hood and cloak of invisibility, Torcus's ears rose to listen to what the elves would say. He only needed to hear a single name to know the prey he had come in search of.
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Alerted by the mental brush of his sister, Kanixillo paused, an ear pulling back as he listened. Something off in the castle? Hm! *Alright, I'll check it out.* Maelstrom, a truly massive Dire Wolf, and one of a set of twins, looked up from grooming his violet swirled left foreleg, mismatched violet and blue eyes watching the Lycan as Kanixillo set down his tools and pulled off the jeweler's goggles. "Queen wants a security check at the Audience hall. You and Vortex are requested as well." Maelstrom pulled himself to his paws, shaking out his black coat and padded silently from the shop, Kanixillo pausing long enough to flip the sign on the door to 'Gone Out', lock up, and shift to his birth form.
The citizens of Skysong city were accustomed to Lycans; with Serenia being allied to Lycaernus, and Kanixillo in particular being a common sight around here, no one shrieked at seeing him in his birth form, nor did the look sideways at the fifty inch tall wolf padding ahead down the street. As they reached the castle gates, Vortex, a mirror image of his brother, with a lighter pendant dangling from his neck on a silver chain - while Maelstrom bore a pendent that glowed with dark, storm like lightning, and a heavy asymmetrical bangle on one foreleg - joined his brother at the gates, the twins padding side by side, shoulder to shoulder and giving wolfish greetings before turning to business.
Kanixillo passed through the main doors that the guard held open for him, lifted his nose to the air as he entered the chamber that stood outside the Audience Hall, taking several testing sniffs, and running through the various scents that the air brought to him. Elves, the Lords and lesser nobility, and a few people from the Southeast Quarter of the city and the Riverside Trader. One human... Not quite human? Hm! Interesting smell. Mingled with mud and velvet. It was plenty of minutes old, but he set it aside as he caught the smell of a Lycan. An Elder no less.
He kept his face expressionless, ears relaxed and listening, as he casually made his way toward a scent as one of the elves of the Court passed through the doors to the Hall. The scent was seconds old, and not in the right spot. And no one was murmuring about an elder. That felt wrong. It wasn't Aliath or Aleyana. This was one he hadn't met yet; older than the two Elders in charge. A male. Healthy. But not in this particular spot. A gruff woof from Maelstrom turned his head, mane falling over one shoulder as his ears perked. "Yeah?" "Inside."
Kanixillo grinned, turning and padding to the Herald. "Has there been a Lycan in here other than myself?" The Herald looked at him in surprise, then shook his head. "No, Lord Kanixillo. Just you that I know of." The Lycan nodded then pushed the door open, admitting himself and the wolves. Maelstrom and Vortex took the right side, following the Queen's scent out into the gardens to check upon her. Kanixillo, meanwhile, followed the Elder's scent, slowing on silent fours as the scent reached peek strength. Golden eyes swept the area in front of him. Seemingly nothing, but his ears could pick up the sounds of breathing, and a heartbeat. "It's rude to sneak into the Queen's castle without an invitation, y'know. I shouldn't have to be telling an elder such a thing."
A ripple passed through the crowd, as the lords, returning from their breaks, paused, heads cocking as they listened. The mental announcement from Briena that the rest of the day was free of Audience duties brought a few amused smiles to some men's faces. They all knew her adventurous spirit. Sometimes she needed to get away.
The crowd dispersed, the nobility filing toward the door, while the lords filling in their rotation for Court dispersed into the castle, perhaps to their suites to rest, read books, etc.. Soon, the room was empty, the Audiences over. "Care to tell me, one Lycan to another, why the hell an Elder would sneak into the Queen's castle, instead of showing himself respectfully?" His drawling tones were conversational, ears pricked toward the spot he could hear a living being at.
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The runt's head flicked as he heard a small pack's worth of footsteps coming from beyond the door to the chambers. All of them definitely heavier than that of an elf. Controlling his breathing to prevent his heart rate from going up, Torcus watched the doors open with two dire wolves, and big ones too, and a lycan entering the hall. A large pup by the scent of him. Fully grown, but still only a pup in understanding of the realities of the world, if his youthful sent gave anything away.
Watching as the three began moving about the room and following scent trails, Torcus reached into his pocket. His hand left holding a simple seed, one that would not stay that way for too much longer.
The pup reached the runt, staring straight at what couldn't be seen with a moment of confusion across his muzzle that quickly dissipated when his ears faced the elder. Then came words from the pup, a small lecture on what is and isn't considered rude. As far as Torcus was concerned, this pup had no right to condemn when he knew not the reasons for the elder's actions. Hopefully the pup was smart enough to realize such a simple concept about old people.
Suddenly, without the prompt of word or sign, all the elves in the room began to leave, each going to some place their own. The runt remembered the last time that he had to deal with telepaths, as that was the only explanation that he could draw without some form of further information on the subject. Being able to speak without speaking had made the telepaths quite the long fight, able to coordinate the elder's position the telepaths were much better at avoiding him then they should have been. With a subtle huff, the elder decided to stay put and keep his hood up till the nobles had all left the hall.
With the nobles cleared out Torcus took down his hood. What suddenly became visible was a lycan of clay and dirt reds in a green cloak with leather plates placed as to not impede his movement. This lycan's right hand moved a small, visibly growing and budding vine about it while his left hand rested on the guards of a simple steel longsword, though to anything smaller than the short lycan might consider it a bastard sword. Around the cloak of the lycan was a composite longbow that aside from the metal string was just as average as the blade resting on the lycan's left leg and the light crossbow on the right leg. As the lycan looked up at the pup that was just over a foot taller than he, his eyes told of a cold hunter as much as the rest of his body language, even if his body didn't show many intimidating features.
When his mouth finally opened, Torucs said "I hunt that which offends Kii'Toc." in lycan with a voice deeper than his size would suggest and a slight dialect that had died long ago. The elder's arm moved silently into the pocket on the front of his leather skirt, pulling out a small letter written in human with a small blood splotch on it. "Do you know of this prey?" Torcus asked, voice still deep and still in that slight dialect, as he pointed to the name of the noble he had come hunting for.
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Bathing in a flash of blue neon light, Titan's footsteps echoed against the walls of the Audience Hall. Standing there clad in armor, he reached for his back, drawing forth his claymore, dubbed Firebolt. His hands seemed to glow an almost luminescent blue hue as his gauntlets appeared around closed fists, the palms of his hands locked around the hilt of his blade. Instantly, small bolts of electricity radiated off his armor, making contact with the ground with a loud crackle. His hair raising, the tension in the room was palpable as he stepped forward. Instantly the room grew dark and cold, and Titan's voice thundered throughout the hallow hall. "Torcus Taliden." Heâd encountered the mongrel before in his travels. There was a sense of rivalry between them, one Titan was willing to rekindle that very moment if it was required of him. âEverything okay here Kanixillo?â The whole mood was hostile as Titan stood there with little patience for the politics of their kind. Words like elder meant very little to someone such as Titan. Either way, he would cut him down all the same. âWhat is it exactly we can do for you?â Noticing that Torcus was clutching a shred of paper, he peered at it curiously, able to pull one name from its contents.
The name struck a chord in him as he tried to figure why it stood out. Wasnât the noble one of the suitors that had asked for the Queenâs hand? Lathaim. What could he possibly have to do with this situation? âWhat business do you have with Lathaim?â Of a serious note, he lowered his blade, dropping his guard for the briefest of moments as he consulted his better judgement. âYou should save your breath because he isnât here. Quite frankly, Iâm not sure where he is. He is the son of well-liked noble in Serenia.â Being that he came late to the party, Titan had little notion of what Torcus intended for the nobles son. To be quite frank, heâd half-hoped it wasnât good. Titan had little patience for the Queenâs suitors. They came in droves, serenading the Queen in poetry and lavish gifts they claimed were from the heart. This was just something Titan could clearly do without in his line of work. Not to mention, it was hard to suppress his own feelings for the Queen when the subject of suitors came about.
Clutching his claymore, he lifted it up again, with few intentions on letting his guard drop a second time. His last encounter with Torcus wasnât a house call. It was neither pleasant for him nor the lycan. There were a few scars that Titan bore that were in part to Torcusâs handiwork. Perhaps this encounter could remain civil, in some respect. After all, he wasnât about to fight the creature in the heart of the castle with the Queen in attendance. âTell us why you require Lathaim and Iâll see about sparing you your head.â There had been rumors of Lathaim as of late, things that swirled around in the underbelly of society, hushed whispers that Titan had heard about. He hadnât been sure if they were true, but if they were, his doings were said to have intimately involved the lycans.
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Tap, tap, tap, clunk, clunk came the sounds of the footsteps of Torcus's, as of recently, second most hated elf. His current prey had stolen the top spot on that list, though the runt's plans would certainly remove of Titan's competition in that regard. At the sound of the familiar footsteps the elder flicked his head to the elf, squinting at the elf... who was taller than the elder. Then the blue light and crackles of the lightning that did little to make Titan seem friendly.
Torcus, upon seeing one of the few people to have walked away from a fight with the elder, began to glow with a soft, green light from beneath his fur. The small, budding vine in Torcus's hand grew up to his shoulder in only a few moments with dull yellow flowers sprouting from the vine as it quickly spread to form a wood-like layer between arm and world. At the same time, plates of bone began to erupt from his left arm as his hand gripped the hilt of the simple steel blade that sat at his hip. Titan's blade has done more damage to the elder than any other weapon, if only because it has fought the lycan more than any other weapon, and Torcus was more than aware of just what level of damage the not-so-humble blade would do with a single strike.
Then Titan spoke the runt's name. "Snowblooded Titan." replied the elder, his voice far from happy. He watched as Titan spoke, holding his tongue as the elf tried to read the paper in the lycan's hand. Torcus was not afraid to admit that it was a bit hard to read the human's words, their scribbles not being as defined as a practiced writers. As Titan spoke next, he let his guard down. Torcus could not believe the moment, even though it was only a moment, that the elf's defenses relaxed. This was something that the elder had only seen happen when Titan had not known he was there and that was only once that he had seen it happen.
Titan spoke a bit more as Torcus finished processing what had just happened. The elf spoke once more, asking what business the the runt had with Lathaim, the name from the note. Taking a small breath and focusing on Titan, Torcus said "Kii'Toc demands that he breath his last breath for purposefully bringing harm to lands that sustain the Eternal Hunt and I will see him draw it."
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Kii'Toc and the Eternal Hunt, a spout of nonsense that Torcus had been spinning since the age of antiquity. Titan hadnât the time nor the patience to deal with his kind, nor was he prepared to let him loose on one of Sereniaâs nobles. He did however have a better idea that would solve his problems for the time being, albeit being only a temporary fix. Perhaps his memory was a bit faded on where Lathaim was exactly. It could be one of several places, all of which he would express to Torcus. Anything to get him out of his hair. Meanwhile, he would dig into Lathaim himself, and find out just what he was involved in. Heâd only heard rumors thus far, which wasnât substantial enough to simply lock the man behind bars. Perhaps Titan could learn something on his own and handle the matter personally before Torcus had the chance.
âHe either lives in Shoreâs Haven City, which is a three days ride North, or Ravenwall, to the far south, which is a two and a half week ride. But being a lycan, you could probably get there in⊠half the time?â Although he was betting all of his cards on a gander, he hoped Torcus would bite. The last thing he needed was Torcus making a mess of things in Serenia. If Lathaim was breaking the law, it was Sereniaâs business, not a lycan elder.
âIâll tell you what. Being that Shoreâs Haven is closer, Iâll even teleport you there myself. Save you a trip. And if I learn anything in the meantime, Iâll be sure to let you know. Donât worry. Iâll have no problems finding you.â That would remove Torcus for at least a few days, giving Titan ample time to tend to any problems Lathaim might give him. And of course, if any new information developed, he had no true intentions on informing Torcus of any of it. But he didnât know that. âYou will forgive me in advance.â Continuing to speak to Torcus, he had slowly been edging his way ever closer to the lycan, enough so to get within reach. Quickly, and without much notice, he grabbed the beastâs neck, pulling him close before the pair vanished in the blink of an eye. Reappearing somewhere on the docks of Shoreâs Haven, the smell of salt was thick in the air. It was loud as ships pulled into the harbor with their haul, nets loaded with fish, and bells ringing. It was the perfect place to be leaving Torcus.
âWelcome to Shoreâs Haven, Torcus. Do keep in touch. If you donât find what youâre looking for, Ravenwell is only a three weeks ride⊠in the opposite direction.â Words left in jest, Titan didnât spare much time as he did what he did best and disappeared, leaving Torcus on the dock alone. That should keep him busy, at least for a few days. Back at the Audience Hall in no time at all, he looked over to Kanixillo and smiled. âI donât think weâll be seeing Master Torcus for at least a few days. In the meantime, Iâm going to see what I can learn about this Lathaim fellow. Thank you for all your hard work. I wonât hold a grudge if you need to go.â All in a dayâs work. Now the only thing on his mind was the fate of Gaele, and whether sheâd come to any sort of decision on his offer. Of course, she was going to say yes. Who would refuse?
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KiiâToc? Oh joys; a hunt fanatic. Kanixilloâs expression remained neutral, his thoughts making no display on his face as he lowered his head, sniffing delicately at the parchment and reading the name Torcus directed him to, as well as the rest of the letter. Lathaim? Now that was bizarre. His silent analysis of the scent was of a camp of humans, mixed with the Elderâs scent from being in his pocket. The blood? Also human, likely from the last one to have held it before they died. By this guyâs hands? âI know âim, but he isnât prey. Heâs well respected, and as deeply carinâ of the land as our Queen. I donât see him doinâ thi-â A flash of bright blue light signaled Titanâs arrival, and Kanixillo straightened to frown at the Aedillonian.
Ah, well. There was the Lycanâs name. Seemed the two knew each other. Kanixillo backed a few steps away, not caring to be within range of either male, his ears flicking back with mild displeasure at the ongoing conversation. Briena would not be delighted. First an intruder, and now? However, his teeth bared slightly as Torcus made a threat on Lathaimâs life. âIâll remind you that the Queen has jurisdiction in Serenia. KiiâToc or not, if Lathaim is guilty of this, it will be the Queenâs blade that severs âis head, as is her right.â A sharp flash of the golden eyes to Titanâs mismatched blue and crimson emphasized the statement.
A moment later, and he was struggling not to roll his eyes. Well, at least Titan hadnât given the guy an actual map. When Titan returned from wherever heâd taken Torcus, Kanixilloâs brow points lifted. âHard work? My sister called me and the twins in to deal with it. Seems y'must have been drinkinâ, since y'stink of ale. Good day, Titan.â A sharp nod was given as the midnight colored Lycan strode from the Hall on his twos, claws clicking lightly on the marble floor. It was out in the courtyard that he encountered the man with a shipment of pearls from Islehaven, the main city on the islands. The next few hours were spent going over the shipment details, so that the next arrival would go to his shop.
-Exit Kanix from the hall-
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âAnd what do we have here?â Dragged down by the weight of Elle rushing into his arms, he peered around the orchard before his eyes trained on Neirin. âIt would seem Iâm going to have to call this brief fight to a close. Maybe another time, Neirin. I believe the lady is in need of my assistance.â Stepping to the side, he disappeared, reappearing in the lustrous Audience Hall which was now strangely empty. Carrying Elle onto the platforms where the throne was seated, he placed her in the center chair without paying much attention to who the chair belonged to. Inspecting her arm, he placed his palm over the abrasion before his hand began to give off a faint glow. âIâve never done this before, so hang tight.â Holding his touch there briefly, he pulled away only to find fresh skin in the scrapes place. âWell, you still have your arm, so thatâs a plus.â Titan wasnât one to use healing magic, and while he had had some instruction during his days as a student, it wasnât enough to get him out of a serous bind.
âWhere did I leave off last time? Awe yes, Eirelle. She was a blonde bombshell who could do things not even your wildest fantasies could comprehend. Her technique was just flawless.â For some strange reason, heâd come to tell Elle about all of his sexual escapades in his two-thousand year run. And unfortunately, he hadnât finished âThen there was her sister, Nyrrielle, who was a lot more competent than she looked. She could do things that would drive a manâs senses wild.â Stopping in his tracks, he quickly saw a connection between their names. âElle. I suppose the only Elle I didnât have was you.â Eyeing the woman amusingly, he took a step back, hoping to avoid being swatted. âYouâre looking good there Queen Elle.â It was no secret now that heâd sat Elle down in the Queenâs chair. But he suspected the Queen wouldnât mind, especially being that she was in distress. Though, Sereniaâs took respecting their Queen quite seriously, so who was to say how she would react.
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