Shadow of the Abyss

"Yes. My Lord," Stewart Lorvel said. "He is within the Great Halls now. Eating with the Lady Aria."

Edwin wanted to laugh. "Eating? He insults my son, and now he eats—" He stopped, tightening his fist. "No… I should be thanking the boy, shouldn't I?"

Stewart Lorvel bowed. "May I speak freely, my Lord?"

"When do you not?"

"Vanro is your bastard," Lorvel said. "And yet he is treated with a level of respect above the heir." he paused, allowing his meaning to echo. "Some of our knights don't even know that Vanro is a bastard, believing he to be the rightful heir."

"You don't mean…" Edwin muttered, taking a stand, his hulking figure towering over Lorvel.

"Ser Greymort and Liana have both claimed that the bandits they fought were not your average thug. Sellswords, they believe. Though, they can't prove it. But what bandit group would be so brazen not to recognize the banners of House Silvermane?"

"It can't be Vanro." Edwin refused to believe.

"I never claimed it, my Lord." Stewart Lorvel said. "The Silvermanes have many enemies. And now that Lady Aria is to be a Chosen of Aidios. We have all the more enemies. Just the other day, whispers of a Demon Hell Tide are underway. Forwin has faced seven this year alone.

It could have been any number of things, My Lord. But… a bandit attack… is…"

"It feels sloppy," Edwin finished, scratching his stubble beard. The sound it made churned. "And the suspicion of Vanro all the higher." He cursed, growing so silent that Lorvel dared not even breathe. "Tell me about this Hell Tide…"

Seeing his Lord wished to change the topic, Stewart Lorvel happily complied. "It's merely whispers, my Lord, but a Great Baptism of Madness is underway, they say."

"Your source?"

"The Oathkeepers, my lord."

Edwin's expression darkened. "The Keepers of the Realm came down from their Great Mountain?" he began, tightening his fist. "Does this have anything to do with… the stars that fell?" He could still recall it: thousands of stars shrieked from the darkness, bathing the Realm in light some weeks ago.

"It might, my Lord," Lorvel said grimly. "Shall we continue our interrogation of Hilda Strob?"

***

Altair had been buttering his bread when he heard the metal boots racing through the Great Halls of the Manner. He glanced around at the few guards observing his every movement and then Aria, who paid them no mind. He smiled and poked at her plump cheek, amused by the bobbing of her doll-shaped head.

Aria's large almond-shaped eyes shone. "Big Brother Altair, what are you doing?"

"Getting your attention, of course," Altair answered, ignoring the movement outside. "I'm curious: why didn't you join Liana and Greymort when they went to report to your Lord Father?"

"Father gets busy at the height of noon." She explained, too scared to bother him. "Why? Did you want to meet my Father?"

"Not in the least," Altair admitted, staring into her sapphire eyes and wondering of the words that she spoke, 'The Prince who shall burn the world and create it anew.' It had unnerved him as if she spoke of prophecy. Though, the girl was simply a girl from what he could glean from the eye of sacrilege.

Aria made a face at him. "Big brother… Are—"

The doors to the great halls sprung open with a great gust of noise, turning their heads. Vanro strutted in with a few knights at his heel. He stared at Altair beside his Sister and sat across from her, filling his plate with smoked sausage, bread, cheese, and a succulent piece of chicken leg.

"Altair, is it? I heard you aided Liana and Greymort in defending my Sister." Vanro said, stabbing his fork into his brazed sausage, and took a bite. " They say you're a twelve-year-old Sword Master. The finest they've ever seen."

"Is that true, Big Brother Altair?" Aria asked. "Are you a sword master? Can you teach me?"

"A girl learning the sword?" Vanro laughed while his men guffawed, nearly choking over their meal. "You'd be better off learning to embroider. Aidios herself knows the Church of the Sepith will demand it of you."

Vanros' words did not seem to ring through the Prince's ear. He'd too much contempt to listen to bastards. "Are you perhaps interested in the sword?"

"A little." She hesitantly said. "Though I like the spear. Liana uses the spear. They say she is one of the best spearmen within the Third Circle in all the Realm."

"The brothel girl?" Vanros snarled. "Nothing more than a whore playing knight."

"She's not a whore!" Aria snapped at him, clenching her fist. "The Sisters of Sepith have already proclaimed her pure," she uttered, flush with rage.

"Perhaps. But the Slaver definitely taught her how to please a man." Vanro joked.

Laughing, Silv Lim spoke, "She might have her Maidenhood. But I bet those sweet lips have sucked more cock then—"

"You speak as though you are not before a noble lady." Altair interceeded. Amazed by the level of vulgarity in which Silv spoke before his Lady. "Are you not a knight of House Silvermane?"

Silv felt his lips curl down. "I am." He said.

"And did you not take the vow to serve and protect?" The Prince continued. "I believe that is the standard of all knights. Is it not?"

The Knight gave a grim nod, and the eyes of the guardsman at the door, who had been observing Altair's every action, turned to Silv. Servants who waited at the table began to whisper, filling the room with rumors.

"Big brother…" Aria muttered, tugging his trousers beneath the table. She tried to hide the fear as she saw Silv's furious expression, but his presence was filling the Great Halls, and her throat felt so tight she began to hyperventilate.

"Ser Lim!" One of the Guardsman shouted, drawing their spears. "What is the meaning of this? You dare show killing intent before the Lady!" he barked, silencing the Great Halls. Soon, guard after guard began to emerge, spears aimed directly at Silv.

'Are these the ones loyal to her?' the Prince wondered. He reached for Aria, clenching her chest, gasping for air. But before he could aid her. His fingers froze when she spoke.

"On his Pale Horse of End, the Prince will Ride as Worlds Burn," She hissed, her sapphire-like eyes shimmering. Aria gasped, trembling to say more. But as if an invisible weight tightened over her chest. She fainted, falling into the Prince's arms.

Altair's presence unfolded light an eldritch of death, seizing Silv by the throat. The young Knight was brought to his knees and made to bow like a feeble worm that dared not disobey his master. He dared not breathe, dare not speak, dare not think. Silv could only kowtow before the Prince as he stood with Aria in his arms. She seemed so small there, like a sleeping doll.

And yet there was a mystery to her, one Altair found to be irresistible. There was something hidden in her… A power he could not see with his eyes.

"Seize him," Altair commanded, crossing the room toward a young woman dressed in the garms of the Sisters of the Sepith. She wore long black and white robes and a hard iron mask to mask herself against the lecherous eyes of man and sin. He handed the girl to her with gentle care. All the Sisters were proficient healers, and Aria was their chosen, hand-picked by Aidios, The Seraphim of War.

"What is going on!" Lord Edwin barked, storming in with a furious expression. His eyes searched the room and found his son barking at the guards while they held Ser Lim down like a dog. He frowned, finding his daughter unconscious in the arms of one of the Sisters of Sepith. "Vanro, you will explain now!" he ordered.

"It's all his fault!" Vanro pointed at Altair. "H-H-He—"

"A Seventh Circle," Altair said with a hint of wonder, sensing the heavy presence that pressured the room. He marveled at the similarities between Edwin and Aria. They were practically twins in his eyes. From their eyes to their hair, even the cheekbones they seemed to share.

Edwin turned an eye to him, measuring the boy who wore rags yet bore the grace of a king. They had said the clothes made the king, and yet as Altair stood there poised beside his daughter, Edwin felt he was before the King of Yarwin.

"Yes, him, Father. He provoked Ser Lim." Vanro claimed. "He dishonored Ser Lim and questioned his vow to House Silvermane."

"Is this true?" Edwin asked Altair.

"If he says it is." The Prince replied, cool as snow, searching his expression with a smile that gave nothing away.

Edwin did not seem amused, but he would not take Varno's words as the gospel.

"My Lord, a Hilda Strob would like to—"

"Hilda is here!" Altair jerked to the Stewart, stepping in with a startled expression. "Pink hair, Red eyes? Cute? Likes Teddy Bears?" He practically laughed. " So the others came too. Hells, what a mess."

"You know Hilda?" Lord Edwin asked.

"Of course. We're from the same land." Altair told him. "I hope you didn't harm her. She is a Sixth Circle soldier."

"The woman is being cared for in the eastern ward." Steward Lorvel said. "We found her puking her guts out after she fell upon the land in a pillar of golden light. Nearly a month ago. She's been with fever since."

Edwin exchanged a glance with the Steward, and he went silent. "We will discuss Hilda. After this farce. What happened to my daughter." Her aura was steadfast, but there was a bit of worry as he crossed the threshold towards the Sister of the Sepith.

"My Lord," The Sister said. "The Lady is well. Her mind is just disturbed by…" She glanced at the boy through her hard iron mask. "Prophecy."

"Father!" Vanro shouted. "He—"

"Be silent, boy," Edwin said hard as stone. He stared and raised his palm. "I thank you for aiding my daughter. Greymort and Liana have told me of your deeds."

Altair shook his arm. "It's not a problem. Lady Aria is quite the interesting one."

Lord Edwin gave a firm nod and glanced at his Steward. "Find out what occurred here and give out the proper punishment. You needn't ask my permission if the chopping block is involved. Altair, if you would follow me. Sister—"

"I shall bring the lady to her room, my Lord."