Fantasy CAINHURST - RP

[MagicPenguin]

Derwin Shaw
Barracks -> Mess Hall -> Main Gate

Derwin awoke the next morning before sunrise after getting about four hours of sleep. He yawned widely, bleary eye watering. He hadn't gotten much sleep the night of the party either and the lack of proper rest, along with the stress of the last two days, was starting to wear on him. He quickly washed, dressed, and emerged from the Bloodguard barracks, intending to see to preparations for the trip to Lady Fray's manor. He hid his fatigue behind his usual stony facial expression, stoic and calm as ever as far as anyone looking was concerned. Athena leapt down from the roof of the barracks where she'd made her own bed for the night and followed her partner first to the soldiers' mess hall, where Derwin grabbed a few slices of bread, cheese, bacon, and sausage to hold him over for a while.

He ate while he walked, throwing the occasional slice of meat to Athena as he next made his way to Blackrock's main gate. Just outside the entrance, Lady Fray's servants were already loading her carriages with her personal effects. Of the woman herself, there was no sign yet, but that was not surprising. The sky was just beginning to brighten with the first light of the rising sun, and few nobles were awake at this hour even if their household staff was already hard at work.

Derwin called out greetings to the staff and soldiers and situated himself in the gate to oversee trip preparations, his back to the castle entrance. He wanted to leave just as soon as Lady Noire was awake and ready. Off to the side, he noticed the six guards Lucrezia had supposedly arranged, reporting early as Derwin commanded the night before. Of the six, three of them were Bloodguard and the other three were ordinary soldiers, veterans of the castle watch. Derwin knew most of them, though they were not the men he would've chosen for this mission himself. They were fine soldiers in their own right, he supposed, but they were either too inexperienced, too unskilled, or too old and washed up for him to be comfortable relying on them in a sticky situation. He would have preferred to bring six of his most stalwart lieutenants from the Bloodguard, men and women he knew and trusted intimately. Instead, he was denied his own choice in favor of...these people.

Princess Noire was royalty riding into a possibly dangerous situation. No effort should have been spared to see that she was safe. Time and again, however, Derwin saw signs that there was little if any interest in doing that. Indeed, if he didn't know any better, he would have said that the Dark Lord or Lucrezia or both were actively TRYING to make Noire a tempting target for assassins. Derwin wasn't usually one for Black Court politics, but he'd been around Blackrock long enough to know a brewing scheme when he saw one.

Just what are these people thinking?

Derwin's thoughts were interrupted by soft footsteps coming up behind him. He turned and was surprised to see Lady Lucrezia approaching him. His temper had cooled somewhat since their meeting last night, especially after Mawlock's help, but he was still frustrated about this entire situation. He locked eyes with her--something few had the courage to do for very long--and let his anger show in his facial expression.

"Milady," he greeted her coolly.

"Spare me the attitude," she replied. "I've got enough to deal with as it is."

Lucrezia eyed the Captain of the Bloodguard with that familar piercing gaze of hers, but surprisingly - almost bafflingly - she broke eye contact first; instead taking a rather vested interest in one of the wagons being loaded.

"The Dark Lord is...leaning on me." She said eventually. "So I'm leaning on you. The security breach is problematic, and someone will be punished regardless if they're at fault or not. You understand what I am attempting to convey here, yes?"

Derwin winced when she mentioned the security breach--in other words, Klyn's kidnapping. He'd gone over the security that day hundreds of times beforehand and, after he learned of the breach, he'd replayed events in his head over and over, searching in vain for what had gone wrong. He knew no one was perfect--least of all himself--and that it was impossible to account for every threat, but he still blamed himself for what happened more than anyone else. His one job, his most important and sacred duty, was to protect the Cainhursts against such things. And despite his best efforts, he'd failed. When he learned of it, he almost considered resigning his post in shame. He only did not because he knew Noire would still need him today.

"The security breach is all the more reason to be cautious now more than ever," he said. "We know there are actors in play who wish harm on the Cainhurst children. Yet you give me six guards for Princess Noire going into a potentially hostile environment?" He shook his head. "It is almost as if the Dark Lord wants her to be vulnerable, but I cannot fathom why. Is he using her as bait to tempt an enemy? Or does he simply wish this to be some...test of her strength?" Vexation was written all over his face. "She is his own daughter. I do not understand what he is doing."

"For the love of -" Lucrezia began, only to pinch her nose in exasperation. "Derwin, of course it's a bloody test. The Dark Lord wishes to see how Noire manages in the outside world when she's not surronded by guards. Her current constitution is questionable at best."

"She's 15, Lucrezia, and not everyone is meant to be a warrior. I cannot approve of putting any child at risk so callously, let alone a princess we are both sworn to protect with our lives."

Lucrezia clicked her tongue. "Worry less about her and more about yourself captain. So far, we've been unable to discover how exactly Lord Klyn found himself several miles from Blackrock without a single guard in this entire fortress noticing. Those noble brats and Klyn himself have massive gaps in their memories, as if they've been torn out. As far as I'm aware, the security that night was flawless - "

The Dark Maiden moved a little closer, her voice lowered to a whisper. "-someone will take the fall for this. To be perfectly blunt, I would rather it wasn't you. Competent staff are difficult to come by, your infuriating habit to ask questions aside."

"I am the Dark Lord's Captain of the Bloodguard," he replied flatly. "If he is dissatisfied with my service, he can remove me at any time. If he wants my life in exchange for my failure that night, then it is his to take." In truth, Derwin could hardly blame the man if he did just that. "Until then, however, I will do my duty to the best of my ability--even if that means I must continue to pelt you with infuriating questions."

The corner of Lucrezia's lip twitched. It was always something of a tightrope pushing back against the First Maiden, but Derwin had developed quite the talent for it. "Very well. Do try to enjoy yourself."

She span on the spot and began to walk away, only to pause and glance back at him.

"Oh and Derwin - if that Bloodguard you dragged to the Throne Room turns up looking that dishevelled in the future, I'll break every bone in his body in alphabetical order to relieve some stress. Do make sure he gets the message."

Derwin barked a laugh. "Honestly? I might help you do it if not for the fact that he'd probably like it."

"He wouldn't." She replied simply as she waved him off, retreating back into the dark corridors of Blackrock.

Derwin sighed when she was out of sight. Well, no helping it, he supposed. He pointed to one of his illustrious six, one of the Bloodguard. "You. Go wake Arkoth. Tell him he's coming with us, whether he likes it or not. He's got an hour to prepare himself and report here." The man saluted and ran off to do as ordered.

Derwin hadn't wanted to bring Arkoth--he didn't trust the man at the best of times, let alone with a mission as tense as this one. If he left the fool here, however, and if he was unfortunate enough to cross paths with her, Lucrezia might actually torture him just to relieve her stress. Best to bring him for his own safety. No matter how annoying or incompetent he might prove to be.

"This is going to be a long trip," Derwin muttered.

Written with Avari (Lucrezia)

Mentioned : UltrAiron (Noire) Tetro (Mawlock) Athanas (Arkoth)

 

[Tetro]

Mawlock Alderbane & Sepulcher X of Dreadmoor​

Location: Willow Wisp Inn, Crowhaven

Haadrick spoke up, stepping forward and confronting the high priest, "we are not here to slaughter these people, we're here to help them." The high priest's once calm expression twisted into one of disgust in response to Haadrick's words.

"How dare you speak out of turn! To speak such blasphemy- seize this traitor immediately! He is corrupted by the filth of this land. He will be cleansed with the dark elves!"

Mawlock was left speechless with disbelief, as were many of the others. To accuse an Alderbane was no light matter, let alone with the amount of conviction the priest had. But, for them to go against the judgment Haadrick had received went directly against the Church's teachings. The air was still, and all that could be heard was the scraping of plate metal and the clinking of chain mail as a few of the younger paladins shifted uncomfortably, unsure of what to do.

"I said seize him!" The priest broke the silence with the command, looking around at everyone else. Nora moved to stand between Haadrick and the priest, "are you mad?! We are not agents of de-" Before she could finish speaking the priest connected the back of his hand with her face, sending her to the ground with a strike.

Immediately, swords were drawn, spells were cast, and sides were taken.

Blood. There was blood everywhere. Mawlock shook uncontrollably, staring, with wide innocent eyes at the horror that was unraveling before him. He was so excited to come to Hollowvale, to spread the message of light and redemption to those who wished to accept it with open arms. To spread the message of the church.

"Mawlock!" His brother's voice echoed from afar. "Mawlock! Wake up!"

"Wake up!"

~

Mawlock awoke to a female drow patting his face. "Mawlock, please wake up."

"I'm awake, I'm awake." He took hold of her hand to keep her from assaulting him any more. He quickly thanked the servant girl before sending her off to get him something to drink. For the last few years, Mawlock had been finding himself awoken by his servants in various places. Wine cellars, armories, and sometimes his farmhands would find him in the fields they worked.

This time, surprisingly, he was in his room. Sort of. He was in one of the rooms he owned at an inn in Crowhaven. The last thing he remembered from the night before was saying good-bye to Derwin. After that, it was hazy at best when he tried to recall.

Mawlock got up and stretched, letting out a big yawn. His servant returned with a bucket of water just as he finished stretching. "My lord," she bowed as he took it. Mawlock chugged the water, letting some of it spill down his armor. "Do you remember where I put my new book? Go find it." He didn't bother letting her respond. The drow simply nodded and left.

~

A furlough, as the ardent Sepulcher resolved to call it thus. What was perceived to be a nomination of duty, was in fact, a moment of true respite for the necromancer. Having taken his case before the court prior, Sep was led to Crowhaven, where he was to survey the old battlefields for skeletal remains. The matter of permissible digging was quickly resolved with minor oppositions from the lesser nobles. As expected of them, they were quick to adjudge for the benefit of the doubt. But the most prominent resolve, as Sep saw it, was pride. By relinquishing the task to Sep, their claims were questioned by the man. Such was the nature of Hollowvale's residents. Everything was to be questioned, even if it was for the greater good. The greater truth to said good, was the continuous production of a standing undead army. The only thing that stood between them and the Crusaders to the southwest. Sep's day in the field was rather short, with only a few promising landscapes to dig for corpses. The more noble ones were to be delivered home to their families. Even when his duties were filled, he found better reasons to dwell in Crowhaven than to return to Blackrock with haste, if not at all. The fresh aroma of grass and the promise of the azure horizon beckons him. Well, the blue sky to say the least, not pertaining to the seas. The last thing Sep wanted was to be on a boat.

Sep handed his details over to his subordinate, a certain armored figure whose attire bespoke them as a knight. Yet, their concealed visage hid something far more sinister than an average human. With the ledger and maps out of his hands, Sep paced himself towards a nearby inn and ordered a mug of milk. Everyone in the room cast their eyes upon him, as the armored necromancer took his seat. His skull mask beckons the attention, let alone his questionable order, shy of alcohol. There were two things to take from a tavern keeper: beware those that pay in advance and those that never partakes a proper ale or wine.

The necromancer shifted his skull mask slightly, where his lips could match the mug. He took into sight the crowd amongst him. They wanted answers. He would give, only when he had his drink properly. Snatching the hurdy-gurdy from the bard and raised his voice among the quiet attendants. The first string beckons.

"Merits to those who cast their dice.
For he who conjured thoughts with his narrow eyes.
The life of which he sought to bring,
Would till the day of which to sing.
And there she was... endowed a ring."

A brief pause followed as Sep sang in solitude.

"Lisa! Lisa! How fair o' beau ye are!
Lisa! Lisa! Sweetest of makers to roar!
Lisa... won't ye bring me home?"

A face among the crowd stood up to Sep, his eyes met the man with a stern demeanor. The crowd tapped their heels and banged their tables. The build-up to his paces were met with judging attitude as if sizing up the necromancer. It was then, he spoke.

"A traveler estranged, with a skull upon his face.
A tune to make us dance, with a voice to match his pace.
He may yet to see the day, with contempt brewing in the fray.
His tone to mellow, with lads he dared not call his fellows.
But we all knew what we have to say!"

The chorus was joined by the rest of the inn.

"Lisa! Lisa! How fair o' beau you are!
Lisa! Lisa! Sweetest of makers to roar!
Lisa won't you bring us home! Hah!"

Sep continued to make his amends with the doubting crowds, as he skillfully maneuvered the course with precise strokes upon the hurdy-gurdy's strings. He ended with a rough rift and a prolonged ringing of the high key. By the end, all seemed rather placid and content, as the once-quiet crowd spurred into livelihood once again, with Sep able to walk back to his milk. Beneath his mask, he was smiling slightly.

Mawlock could hear the sounds of singing and merry-making. Which was quite odd considering how early it was. It would bring a smile to his face since such jovial energy meant good business, but he had just woken up, so there was no smile. The irritated noble left the room to see what was going on, setting the bucket aside on a table for one of his servants to take care of later.

As Mawlock took his last step down the stairs there was one question he wanted the answer to. Who could have inspired such merriment? His presence caused one or two heads to turn, then three, then six, and so on until most everyone, save for a few of the most intoxicated or unconscious, was looking at him. Silence. It was rare that the noble ever showed up at his own inn and someone didn't get put through a table or have their head roll. Mawlock looked around and quickly spotted the odd 'man' out. Lord Sepulcher.

Mawlock broke his gaze from the noble and broke the silence with a projecting voice, "the great Lord Sepulcher is here, and you've all stopped singing. Go on now, sing!" His expression and demeanor betrayed his words, and thus no one spoke. Mawlock took in the silence for a moment, nodding slowly as he strode to the bar. Slamming his fist hard on the counter he spoke once more, shouting the threat at the crowd, "GO ON! SING!"

Sep locked eyes with Mawlock. Albeit brief as it may, the man's coarse voice was more than enough to dissuade him from intervening. Thus, he spoke not but a slight turn of his head towards the crowd. The necromancer got up, and paced himself towards Mawlock, leveling his fist over his heart as a salute. The crowd was less than inclined to put up with Lord Alderbane's authority, let alone shy from his tempestuous visage. And so, Sepulcher lent his thoughts between them.

"Kind of you to grace me with your presence, Lord Alderbane. I had not the slightest idea of your residence here this day." Sep spoke, intrigued by Mawlock's timely presence where he stood.

Mawlock didn't look at the young lord at first. He kept looking around the room. Once he was satisfied that no one would be singing, at least for the time being, he finally addressed Sep. "Welcome to my inn. Please, let us speak upstairs. I'll have my servants bring us more-?" He looked at the drow behind the bar. "Milk," the servant whispered

Mawlock couldn't help but smile, then start chuckling. His chuckle turned to a laugh and soon he filled the room with his bright and oddly joyous laughter, breaking the tension in the air. The laughter spread to a few of his servants, then some of the patrons, until everyone was in hysterics. He put a hand on the shoulder of Sep, now in a much better mood, and shouted, "a round of milk for everyone!" Those words only made the laughter more intense.

Before he doubled over, Mawlock gestured for Sep to follow him up the stairs. Sep briefly turned to the crowd, whose excitements were as questionable as the extra round of said "milk". He chuckled softly beneath his mask, making way for the stairs with Mawlock. As the door sealed their privacy, Sep eyed the man. Despite being fellow associates in court, they had little time to themselves like this, let alone Sep's departure from Blackrock. For good reasons as any, a man responsible for a fraction of the kingdom's skeletons production and a scrutinous paladin would give way for slipped rumors. Especially behind closed doors. But to Sep, Mawlock was a respectable face among the Black Court's deviant faces. He remained silent throughout, awaiting Mawlock's spoken thoughts, for he was wiser in age and ventures compared to the florist of a necromancer.

As the two sat across from one another Mawlock eyed the man sitting before him. Sep's armor looked pretty cool.

"Sorry for my lack of formality. After a few years of being in Hollowvale's courts, I have lost any actual respect for the institution as a whole. It's a glorified rat race to the seats closest to Ulfric I like to say." Mawlock spoke casually as if talking to a friend. "Please, remove your mask. I'd like to see the boy in charge of collecting the bones of my servants."

"The first, I do concur with your sentiments. Such is the nature of Hollowvale's aristocracy. It is rare to find the proper place nor time where politics are shoved upon the shelves. As for the latter, my Lord..." Sep replied, with a slight chuckle.

"I must humbly decline. Please understand, an oath as a Sepulcher must not be broken. Mask or no mask, I sit before you as true to who I am as you perceive my works to be, my Lord." Sep said. His eyes never once blinked throughout his delivery. Intent on the traditions that bound his name.

Mawlock nodded in understanding. "I see. Your father said the same thing when I asked if he could remove his mask when I first met him. It's something I respect about your family." Just as he said that the female drow who woke him up came into the room holding a tray. On it was the white book Mawlock requested and two mugs of milk, along with a small jar of honey and two spoons. She set the tray down on the table and left with haste.

"Politics though," he scoffed, "a weakness of your father's, as well as many others in this land. If you could even call it politics. It's all unspoken rules, understandings, threats, and direct commands from those strong enough to kill you for not obeying. I mean just look at me. I hold a position in the court not because I can give Ulfric council or provide an army of undead, or anything of great note that most do. I am where I am because I killed enough big-mouthed nobles to earn my seat at the table. So tell me, does that sound like a sound political system?" Mawlock asked Sep as he mixed some of the honey into his own milk.

Sep paused for a while to take in Mawlock's words. The mentions of his father was more or less a sharp detail. One thing was certain, they shared the same sentiments regarding Sep's father. The man was in control most of Sep's life. Even when IX passed, Sep was already knee-deep in his so-called legacy. Everyone treated him by his namesake after his father. He despised it all, yearning to be truly free from the sins of his father. But in the end, the mark was already carved deep within the abyss of his soul. There was no escape from his fate. Once and forever will he be bound to the shadows of his late father.

"A sound political system, my lord? Nay. But surely, it has its merits. The cycle of good men in bad times and good times with bad men is all too familiar for your eyes, my lord. It is the things that bound us to our duties that are the very things that invite troubles..." Sep said, mixing a teaspoon of honey into his milk.

"...The best, nay, a perhaps optimal query that plagues us so is the why. You and I both know that one day, the Dark Lord will relinquish his crown to one of his children. It is in my best interest to see us ready. Should I be wrong, by some miracles, we may yet see a peaceful transition of power. However, what's to stop me from thinking that such a day could never come? There's a storm brewing. It is, as I see fit, that we must strive to do our best. Not for the Dark Lord, not for his children, and certainly not for the sake of self-indulged power. The future children of Hollowvale deserve better than that. My lord." Sep finished stirring his mug of milk, raising his mug.

"So, Lord Alderbane. What say you, that we cast aside the dreary talks of the inevitable ends that plagues us so about the Court, and onwards to the very question that I have been wanting to ask you, sir... have you shaved of late?" Sep finalized with a smile.

Mawlock took in Sep's words. It made him feel a little better knowing the young noble was wise enough. The question that followed after would have probably made anyone else raise an eyebrow. But instead, Mawlock asked his own question in reply almost immediately, "have you?" The lord smirked as he drank from his own mug, never looking away from Sep.

"For someone who dons a mask from dusk to morn', would it matter, my lord?" Sep laughed slightly.

"Would it matter any more if you didn't?" He laughed along with Sep. "And please, call me Haadrick. Titles belong in courts."

"Aye, fair enough. It's not like you are keen on impressing the lassies. Hahaha! Very well, Haadrick, if you insist." Sep toasted, then gulped down the mug's content.

Sep's mentioning of Mawlock impressing 'the lassies', made him stop for a second. A small pain twisted in Mawlock's chest and the face of a Drow woman flashed in his mind. He sighed, setting his mug down, "well, how many women do you know that are interested in a crusader of light? I'm not exactly the most eligible bachelor in the court. There was this one maiden, though, who showed interest in me, and her intentions were hardly flattering. The poor girl was hoping to get Ulfric's attention by removing my head and presenting it on a plate to get a spot closer to him at the table." He laughed, finding humor in the occurrence.

"Fortunately I was able to convince her to become an underling of mine after a few fights. A well-endowed lass who oversees my vineyards in Vinistead, if you're interested in finding a girl yourself." He gave him a playful nudge and a smirk. It was a genuine offer. As an Alderbane it was difficult finding a wife due to the family's strict traditions, so Mawlock wasn't going to be after just any woman.

"And here I was, fearing that your agility in cupid's grove had shy from its glories. I am neither gifted nor pressed for the urges of the flesh let alone the expected formalities. No sir, I rather adhere to the call of my heart. Strange, for a Hollowvale resident, as it may, but I suppose I am not as passionate nor keen as Lord Klyn's intuitions." Sep laughed. While much of what he said carried his spoken truth, Sep had his heart set on a certain someone, of whom he has yet to make sense of. In his nonchalant demeanor, his eyes cast upon the distant horizon was a tell-tale sign that he longed for someone set in stone.

"Ah, you've got eyes for someone already, eh? I know that look well enough. Even if you do have a mask on. Well, if there is any wisdom I can bestow upon you, it's this: pursue it. The worst thing you can do is let her slip away." Mawlock took his book from the tray and smiled at it, setting it on the table a little closer to him. "You'll find no stranger a resident in Hollowvale than I. A crusader of light working for a lord of darkness, in a court of death, violence, and corruption. If anything, though, it would surprise me if you were like Klyn. I figured you for the sentimental romantic type."

Mawlock had Sep dead on, even if the latter had not uttered a name. A slip of a word was more than warranted for the wise crusader. The necromancer took heed of the man's words, even if he does not acknowledge it verbally. Surely, for a man of Mawlock's demeanor, it was best to take his words to heart. And Sep did just that.

"Tell me," Mawlock cleared his throat, now changing the subject, "are you familiar with the libraries of Hollowvale?" Mawlock picked up the white book to look at it before turning his attention back to Sep for an answer.

"The official ones, yes. But the older ones that saw the purges have yet to see my candles. What concerns you, Haadrick?" Sep pinched his chin in thoughts, then eyed Mawlock with his book in hand.

"Have you seen this book before?" Mawlock held up the white book he had closer to Sep. It was slightly larger than the average book. It was white and had gold designs on the spine. Beautifully simple was the best way to describe it. "In any of the libraries you have ever been to?"

Sep studied the book briefly, then shook his head.

"I can't say that I have. Judging from its appeal, it is as foreign to this land, as it is on a black night. How did you come by this work?"

Mawlock sighed in slight relief when Sep told him he was unfamiliar with the book. "It's a book written by my mother. Her most recent one. I had it smuggled here. Ulfric's libraries couldn't teach me much else regarding the light arts that I didn't already know."

"You mentioned purges," Mawlock leaned in slightly, "and I'd like you to tell me about those. I haven't exactly been keeping up with the history of Hollowvale during my life here."

Sep raised a brow, although he was not at all fazed by Mawlock's discreet endeavors. After all, a good read could spare a man from many troubles. The necromancer went on to talk about Hollowvale's history leading up to the purges. Namely the dissents that kept old texts pertaining to Ulfric's claim to the throne of Hollowvale, extensive vampiric studies that would otherwise persuade many to seek after its terrible powers, and the ensuing Hinokan-Cainhurst conflicts. If anything, Sep was a sucker for books. At least the ones he thoroughly finds credible enough, given the burning of records and destruction of libraries during the tumultuous times against the Vampires and Hinokahs.

"...at best, you may take my perceptions on the matter, but the facts lay dormant, beneath the ruins of the unnamed libraries scattered all around Hollowvale. I yearn to seek these facts for myself. Not just Hollowvale, but all of Aether's secrets. Perhaps you could shed some light on... well, the concepts of the arts of Light, as your mother had taken the liberty of discoursing it." Sep remarked, tapping the immaculate tome upon the table lightly.

Listening to Sep explaining it all intrigued Mawlock. When the Hinokah was mentioned he wondered how his cousins were doing out West. The mentioning of vampires, on the other hand, disgusted him. Mawlock didn't feel that way about all vampires though, just the uncivilized ones. To hear about the burning of books bothered Mawlock. It seemed like a waste of knowledge, even if it did invite potential monsters into the world.

"The concepts?" Now, Mawlock was actually surprised. The mentioning of light magic usually got Mawlock suspicious looks or people spitting accusations at him. "You're interested in learning light magic?" He asked with a laugh of disbelief.

"Curiosity is my blood, Haadrick. Besides, it couldn't possibly hurt to ken some insights. Knowledge is... well... knowledge." Sep shrugged.

"I don't know if anyone has told you this, but magic changes you. More specifically, the light and dark arts do. Ulfric is a prime example of what happens when you wield immense dark powers for a long period of time. As for what the light can do to you... Well, it blinds you in ways that can lead to you doing more harm than good regardless of intentions. Neither one is good or evil, they just are. I've seen both extremes. One of which is ruling over Hollowvale." Mawlock's tone was serious, but not too serious. He wanted to warn Sep of the real and unavoidable dangers of the kind of knowledge he was asking for, but he didn't want to scare him away.

Mawlock was dabbling with both light and dark magic, so he'd be a hypocrite if he tried to push anyone away from learning. "And I can personally tell you that it's even worse if you try to wield both for too long." Mawlock took the white book, "but if you're willing to take on the task, I can teach you. I need you to be aware of the risks though. And it may attract unwanted attention. Not many will admit the power light has over the dark forces."

"Are you truly willing to dedicate yourself as my student?"

Sep's eyes met Mawlock's. The light of the day dawned upon them, bound by the glistening cobwebs that refracted a measure of thoughts and resolve. So spoke the lull.


Written With: Pilgrim59
Mentioned: NoQuillToLive (Klyn Cainhurst)