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“I know, I apologize,” said Igna, “-where’s my phone.”

“Over on the desk,” he pointed. “My lord,” stood idly, “-there’s an important matter to discuss.”

“Take a seat then.”

“Thank you.”

Bedroom, study, office, the full package in a circular tower. The minimalist approach was more convenient than overbearing establishments. The minute hand passed the 12-hour mark, time read 8:00. The duo sat before a projection, “-my lord, éclair has reported the sudden involvement of a spy. We found clothes and scattered belongings on an earlier patrol. The guards question how vestments and items came to be. The person seemed to have teleported away.”

“My doing,” said he snacking on fruits, “-it was late, didn’t have much strength to painfully kill the lass. Her name’s June of the Nisel tribe, a mother of one of the plague victims.”

.....

“I beg your pardon. Was she killed?”

“Yes,” proudly sat back, “-should I ignore an assassination attempt?”

“N-n-no, tis not the matter. Why couldn’t she have been captured?”

“Waste of time,” the fruit bowl emptied, “-Undre, my patience’s running a little dry.”

Brief shakes of the head, “-construction is ready to begin. Vanesa’s cave has been placed under close watch. There are reports of tremendous power wandering the woods.”

“Right. I’ll see to their willful dismissal,” the door opened.

“My lord,” catching his hand, “-I hope you don’t slaughter the refugees...”

“Impudence,” he pulled, “-Undre,” the aura grew, “-don’t overstep thy station. This is an order. I’m sure there are more competent stewards at the ready if a certain someone met his demise,” the handle creaked, “-you really think me a monster...” the door shut, ‘-I guess I am.’

‘Why did I have to stand up to the baron,’ a facepalm echoed, ‘-I’m so stupid. Calm down, no need to get worked up... HOW CAN I BE CALM. June was one of my best friends, HOW DARE HE KILL HER!’ *DRING* ‘-who is it now?

“Hello?”

“Hello, éclair speaking.”

‘Nice, the loyal butler,’ he sneered, “-how can this worthless steward be of assistance?”

“Launch an investigation on the Nisel Tribe attack. I’ve compiled a list of suspects. There’s strong evidence of a potential civil uprising.”

“I know,” gritted he, “-Baron Igna doesn’t seem to realize the people are angry at the sudden changes. What is he thinking, allowing a place for refugees, a safe place for foreigners, it’s unacceptable.”

“Keep the malice in check,” returned éclair, “-do as was said. The Baron’s saved this pitiable town from the savagery of the previous lord. Would it be better to disfigure the townsfolk?”

“No, no, I understand. I’ll forward what information we have on the Nisel Tribe.”

“Good day, Steward Undre.”

“Good day, éclair.”

*Beep,* ‘-enough is enough. Things have to move along,’ a sinister grin beckoned greater trouble.

Out onto the northern gate, ‘-I see,’ multiple key points scrolled, ‘-good job, éclair. The traitor is indeed one among us. The little assassination attempt yesterday was botched. I realized it after killing the mother who acted the part. The killing intent I sensed must have been her special ability. What’s done is done,’ he leaped off the walls headfirst, *Crack,* ‘-her death should bring call for a change of plans.’

“Lord Baron,” saluted the scarce guards.

“Good morning, how was the night.”

“Nothing interesting happened sire,” returned one, “-same ol’, same ol’.”

Horse-drawn carts clopped, “-ello Toen, how’s guard life treating ya?”

He desperately tried to signal, ‘-be silent.’

“What’s the matter,” laughed the old man, “-Cat got your tongue?” a metal bottle flung over, “-have a swig of grandpa’s lucky drink.” Embarrassment emanated off the poor boy’s face, the adjacent guard could but contain his laughter. “-Who’s this pretty girl?”

“Grandfather, that will be enough of fooling around. Get going already.”

“What... forget it. I want to know who this lovely young girl is.”

“Igna Haggard, Baron of Glenda. Nice to make your acquaintance, old man.”

“Oh-ho-ho,” bushy faced hidden under a sports cap, “-tell my son I’m dead.”

“Grandpa...”

“Listen, Toen,” the hat came off,”-I’ve disrespected a noble of the Empire. They’ll surely execute an Ardanian...”

“Old man, you misunderstand. Glenda’s under the Blood-King’s faction. No one will be executed on my watch.”

“Oh... HA-HA-HA-HA, you’re a funny one. Give me a moment,” he pulled on a ragged sack, “-let see here... FOUND IT, HA-HA-HA-HA.” Igna frowned.

“It’s a little dusty,” whatever object he pulled was soon cleaned by a dustier piece of cloth, “-catch.”

‘A bottle of liquor?’

“Courtesy of my old man, the best booze in the whole of Arda. Consider it a gift for being hilarious.”

‘Old man’s Scrum,’ the eyes narrowed, ‘-brewed in Squindale.’

“Oh, I get it,” paused the old man, “-the name, it’s funny. Get it, Scrum. Rhymes with rum and c-”

“THAT WILL BE ENOUGH!” fired a female voice leaping off the wagon, “-I apologize dearly for my grandfather.”

“There’s no need for concern,” returned he, “-I’m sure to thoroughly enjoy the taste of an old man’s scrum.”

“AHAHAHAHA, SEE, THE BARON GETS IT!”

“My lord, let me apologize on my grandfather’s behalf,” the guard knelt, “-he’s being disrespectful.”

“Raise thine head,” hands-on the shoulder plate, “-a jovial old man’s a gift to be proud of. Keep him happy and sane. Moments like these are few and far-fetched, treasure them.”

Horses neighed, “-see you at the tavern later, Lord Igna,” the cart moved.

“-don’t leave me behind,” cried the girl.

“Once again, I’m deeply sorry.”

“Don’t mention it.” A darkened mist teleported the bottle. No other words exchanged; a tall order was at hand. The investigation of Svien’s hill. Tall weeds and the muddied path led into a degenerate bridge of mossy stones. The stream so many spoke about was a rapid river of unmatched strength. Here he thought of a peaceful galloping bed of water. Only a few meters in, the entire atmosphere altered. Trees on the other bank grew horizontally, a weird triangle-shaped opening laid as an entrance.

‘I haven’t seen my little trouble maker, where’s he at?’

“POPS!” exclaimed a distant voice.

‘Above?’ he gawked, time seemed to stop, ‘-a shooting-star?’ he focused, “-no, it’s just Draconis riding a...” straining for a better look, ‘-A WYVERN?’ They plummeted into the river to form a giant wall of water.

“THAT WAS AWESOME!” the gleeful proclamation didn’t quite match Igna’s expectation. Clothes were soaked to the bones, “-Draconis,” a murderous smile had the boy tremble, “-where have you been?”

“I went wyvern catching... I heard the town’s kid run around catching butterflies. When I asked a girl if I could join, she said, ‘ew no’ then ran off. I asked the boys, they said, ‘-real men catch birds’ and kicked me away. My horns picked up on strange auras beyond the hill... I ran to check and saw that dragon-looking thingy.”

“Draconis,” they pointed to the other bank, the ground carved, “-if I didn’t intervene, you’d have died.”

“I know,” he laughed, “-that’s why I flew the bird to pops.”

“Honestly,” palms hopelessly clenched the forehead, “-listen carefully. Kids shouldn’t go around wyvern hunting. I mean,” glancing the carcass, “-it was at least a Tier-8 Steel ranked monster.”

“No, no, it just proves I’m manlier than a man,” cackles escaped into the hill.

“Shut it,” warmly patting the head, “-Draconis, how old are you?”

“I’m eighteen and a strong boy,” he asserted confidently.

‘Hopeless,’ he breathed, “-I don’t get it, are you an ancient demon or not?”

An innocent tilt asked, “-does it matter?”

“I guess not,” *Mana Control: Fire Element Variant – Amber.* “Come along then,” hand in hand, “-let’s go explore Svein’s Hill.”

“Let’s go,” said he loudly.

Every sound resounded; the somber scape brought by heavier foliage heightened his guard. Dead animals wrapped in strange matter littered about, some hung from the branches. The stench of death and marks of struggles and smeared liquids. An uphill climb into a potentially fatal battle. “We should be wary of a strong monster.”

“I only sense weaklings,” said the boy, “-there are signs of demonic rituals. I feel the presence of a fellow friend. He’s close to awakening,” sniffing about, “-inside the cave, way over there.” Signs of meager living accommodations clambered into view. The slope eased into a flat-enough land. Lifeless children curled in a circle and watched. None showed any sign of interest.

“Who are you?” wondered an older woman in a robe, “-you’ve wandered too far into the hill,” she said holding stale bread. “There you go, little pests,” the food flew harshly onto the kids’ marred faces. “Still here?” returned a mosaic response.

“Does it look otherwise?”

“Attitude,” she snickered, “-do whatever you want kid.”

‘What’s up with them?’ he ambled past the starved children, ‘-is this the extent of the slums?’ Draconis’s tightened his grip.

“What happened?”

“The cave, the presence. It’s getting stronger.”

A tiny wooden door blocked the passage. “Draconis, mind waiting here for a second?”

.....

“Why?” he frowned, “-I wanna go explore inside.”

“No,” the head shook, “-it’s better not to come with. I have a sneaking suspicion the cult’s performing a ritual.”

“Fine, whatever. If pop says to remain outside, I’ll obey.”

“Don’t wander off, it’s an order.”

“Whatever, I’m a twenty-year-old strong boy, I can handle myself.”

Moist rocks, slippery steps, a slightly cramped passage into the deeper parts. No source of light nor sound, the tunnel went on for a few minutes. ‘-I don’t sense anything unusual,’ rays signaled the end.

*Thud, thud, thud,* rhythmic stomps bellowed as did the air. Chants, moans, screams, and laughter permeated; a purplish cloud flowed per the currents. ‘-Narcotics?’ he wondered and snuck in behind a makeshift stone wall.

‘A saturnalian party of indulgence. What a blasphemous sight. I was right not to bring Draconis. They’re drugged and humping like rabbits.’ Settled back behind the cover, ‘-the Cult of Vane, worshiper of the Aedric Mistress of plague and illness. The children must have accidentally stumbled on one of their rituals. Here I thought they were gone. Slums huh, quite the ordeal on our hands. What are they trying to accomplish?’

*Infiltration mode, toggled,* commented éclair. A scan of the area showed naught but nameless individuals, an approximate number of three hundred. ‘Only reason a person would venerate Vane is to bring about potentially world-ending catastrophe. Are these Ardanians really going to sacrifice their lives for a curse? The payment is in carnal pleasures and whatever bodily fluids brought on.’

*Doup, doup, doup,* ‘-I know that sound,’ the face froze.

“POPS” the entrance crashed, “-HELP ME!” a monstrous fiend barreled on behind. Quick to catch the boy, he leaped back onto the ground below. A tall stake-like construction held a naked lady prisoner by the head and on all fours. Her tears and pain left to dribbled onto a cauldron. The edifice carried stairs upon which men and women alike took turn climbing.

‘Close one,’ the stone cracked, “-what happened to the strong twenty-year-old?”

“Shut up, that old lady turned out to be a demoness,” boulders peppered the crowd. Some died on impact, others had legs and arms crushed. “I see,” grimaced young Draconis, “-you wanted to look at the ladies alone. Didn’t know my pops was a pervert.”

“Shut it,” palms veiled the unsightly proceedings from the boy’s mind.

“Lady Rouge, why have thee been angered?” they prostrated. The demonic body sunk into an older woman.

“Those two,” she pointed, “-they dared intrude on my reawakening.”

“Lady Rouge,” said a random bystander, “-please allow me to remedy the situation.” The figure swapped from unbecoming to a murderous beast of unknown origin. Drool slumped down the yellowish canines, white pupils, skin of a nocturnal, and the repugnant smell of Aedric strength.

‘Save me,’ muffled the lady atop the stakes.

“Draconis,” settled facing the wall, “-count the holes in the rocks. Whatever is heard, don’t turn back. Promise me and I’ll give you a present later.”

“I’ll count the rocks, it’s a manly promise.”

“Good,” a gentle pat swapped into a demonic presence. “-Now then,” a heavy aura emanated, “-care to dance with death?” *Woosh.*