sbdcsierra Chapter 735: The Fang & Thorn Part 1
Chapter 735: The Fang & Thorn Part 1
Chapter 735: The Fang & Thorn Part 1
“Hello, Calex.”
Calex slowly turned around.
Stryg sat on a chest, leg crossed over his knee, Krikolm in hand. “Let’s talk.”
Calex stared at the scarlet blade, his expression surprisingly calm. “So, the legends are true. You found the ‘Blood Fang.’”
Stryg blinked. “You know Krikolm’s name in the old tongue?”
“I had an extensive education. My mother believed it was necessary to know my enemies and that included the Seven Ruling Houses of Hollow Shade. The fact that you have the ancestral sword of House Veres tells me a few things.” Calex turned his back to Stryg and walked over to the small table covered in various bottles of spirits and wine. “Would you like anything? Blood-wine, perhaps?”
Stryg shook his head slowly. “No. Thanks.” He knew his body was relatively immune to poisons. Even if it wasn’t, his own regeneration would prevent any lasting damage. That didn’t mean it wouldn’t hurt. Then again, he had never truly been poisoned by his enemies before.
Not that they hadn’t tried. Stryg thought about the recent assassins who had tried to kill him and every titan back in Hollow Shade.
“You sure?” Calex asked.
“Yeah.”
Calex poured himself an amber liquid into a glass and drank it down before pouring himself another. “The Blood Fang was lost when it disappeared with the Blue Rose. The fact that the sword isn’t cutting into your flesh tells me you are a direct descendant of Stryga Veres.”
“I could simply be a distant relative who happened to find the sword.”
“Not possible. That sword bonds to the direct bloodline of its wielder. No distant relative could hold that hilt without cutting themselves. The Veres that reside in Hollow Shade know this. It’s why they stopped looking for the sword long ago.”
“Because they are from a distant branch of the family,” Stryg guessed.
“Precisely. They are not Stryga’s descendants. The only way they could wield the Blood Fang is if the last owner transferred ownership to them, a branch family. Which, of course, Stryga, or any of her predecessors, never would. Ebon Lord Koval designed the sword in that manner to prevent branch families from trying to steal the Blood Fang.”
“Which is the symbol of leadership within the Veres.”
Calex nodded, “And therefore, if one does not own the Blood Fang, they cannot claim true leadership. In concept, it prevented infighting within the Veres and attempts at usurping the Veres throne. But that all fell apart when Stryga disappeared with the sword. Your family fought each other for power until none were left standing. All except for one, the sole survivor. Ironically, he had no interest in ruling.”
“Uncle Gian,” Stryg muttered.
“That sword represents more than leadership. It represents a thousand years of one of the greatest vampire bloodlines the Ebon Realm has ever seen. And now, it lies in the hands of a goblin hybrid, who looks more like a northern drow than either vampire or goblin. Which makes me wonder. Did Frost Rim have a hand in Stryga’s disappearance? Is it mere chance that your arrival coincides with the movements of the Frost Rim lords? Or has this plan been in motion for centuries?”
“I have nothing to do with Frost Rim,” Stryg said adamantly.
Calex dragged his desk chair over to where Stryg sat and placed it across from him. “So you say. My family has many spies in Frost Rim and every other Great City, for that matter. None of them had ever heard about you, until you showed up in Undergrowth. You’re an anomaly and a dangerous one at that.”
Stryg glanced at the sword in his hand. “Fair.”
“So,” Calex reclined on his chair in a lax manner. “The question is, why doesn’t your mother wield the Blood Fang instead of you? She is an Ebon Lord. You are not, yet. So why you? What makes you so special?”
“Earlier, you called me dangerous, but you don’t seem very afraid of me.”
“Should I be? If your plan was to assassinate me, you wouldn’t have made your presence known when I entered the tent. I can only assume you really do wish to talk, at least for now. As for what happens after our conversation, well, that’s up to both of us, isn’t it?”
Stryg regarded Calex with a curious stare. “You’re different from when I met you in Undergrowth.”
“Yes,” Calex took another sip of his drink. “That tends to happen when your mother is murdered and you’re forced to take over an entire city-state in her stead.”
“...Stupid question, I suppose,” Stryg admitted. Neither of them was the same person they were only a few months ago.
Calex tapped his fingers on his glass, an idea turning in his eyes. “Tell me, Lord Veres, how did you manage to slip into not only my camp but its most guarded tent?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
“I walked.”
“What?”
~~~
…An hour earlier…
The Undergrowth encampment sprawled over four wide hills. Green mages had erected watchtowers of stone all across the perimeter. Several archers and an orange mage were stationed at each tower, searching for anything that moved in the tall grass. Retinues of soldiers patrolled the perimeter, with a group passing by a tower every five minutes.
There was not a single blind spot that Stryg could see. Even worse, he spotted what appeared to be red mages casting wards across the perimeter, while also putting down totems every several meters. No doubt they were enchanted with brown magic to alert anyone who came too close.
Despite their massive force of thousands, Undergrowth wasn’t taking any chances for an attack in the night. It made sense. Hollow Shade was not too far off in the distance. A small, fast squad of mages on centaur-back could potentially reach them and attack. Though it would be suicide to try and face an entire army alone.
“What does that say about me?” Stryg scoffed wryly to himself. He was crouched low and used the tall grass as cover. He got as close as he could without risking being spotted by the watchtowers. Now he sat on the ground, debating what to do.
Honestly, he thought this would be easier. He could practically hear Gale’s heavy sigh of disappointment. Tauri’s military training would probably kick in and she would go on to regale him about war strategy and how stupid of an idea this truly was. She would be right, of course. Except he wasn’t a general leading an army into battle. He was by himself.
The thought of going back to Hollow Shade first and convening with his friends and family, and maybe even the council, about what to do next was tempting. But there was no time. Frost Rim and Undergrowth’s armies could march into battle tomorrow. Stryg needed to act and perhaps being alone was his greatest advantage.
All he needed was to get to Calex. It didn’t matter how, so long as he reached him. Stryg rubbed his wrists. A mage’s shackles were designed to stop chromatic mana. It would do nothing against elemental chaos. And that certainly was an advantage he could leverage.
With a plan forming in his mind, Stryg took a deep breath, and stood up. It occurred to him as he walked towards the encampment that they might shoot him before trying to imprison him.
“Fuck,” he muttered to himself.
He was in plain view of a watchtower. One of the stationed archers leaned down to where Stryg was walking, when one of her comrades said something. She turned back and laughed at the joke.
Stryg hurried past the tower. He’d much rather set off one of the wards or enchantments and have soldiers rush in and capture him, than get shot at. Sure enough, as he walked right up to the perimeter, he noticed a faint translucent red dome across the encampment. There was too much space to actually protect anything, but the wards were enough to alert the casters of intruders.
“Here we go,” Stryg gulped and stepped through. The dome rippled around him, like a hand cutting into still water. Stryg waited for a moment, expecting a hundred soldiers and battle mages to come rushing in. But when a minute passed and the horns hadn’t sounded in alarm, Stryg glanced back at the wards in question.
Were they not fully set up yet? The red mages had only just cast the spells. And something of this size could not be done by one or two mages, rather a hundred or so. The other mages must not have yet completed their part of the spell.
Stryg walked over to one of the totems and kicked it. The hollow metal statue fell over with a thump. Stryg looked around. Still, nothing.
“Huh.”
That was odd.
Shrugging, he walked into the camp. A few seconds later, thirty or so battlemages in the dark greens of Undergrowth rushed into the area. Stryg showed them his open hands and stood stock-still. The battlemages ran past him and formed a wide circle around the fallen totem.
“Where is the breach?”
“Any sight of intruders?”
“Not yet.”
“My lord, the wards are intact. No sign of damage or entry.”
“Search the entire. Ask the nearby watchtowers if they saw anything,” barked one that clearly appeared to be the leader.
Several mages nodded and sprinted off.
“My lord, the totem is intact, as well. There is no damage that I can see. I think it may have fallen over,” said another mage.
“Fucking idiots,” the mage lord cursed. “They couldn’t even be bothered to put the totem upright. I want to know which battalion was in charge of setting up this section of totems. I want to know what imbecile failed the simplest of tasks.”
“Right away, my lord.”
Stryg stood awkwardly a few paces away, unsure of what to say or do. None of them were paying him any mind, they weren’t even looking in his direction. Deciding it was better not to say anything, Stryg kept walking further into camp.
The tents were uniform in formation and appeared identical. He wasn’t certain which way was to Calex’s tent and asking someone did not seem like it would lead to any fruitful answers. He debated simply capturing a soldier and ripping through their mind with purple magic. It would work, if they knew where Calex’s tent was. And something told Stryg that the average soldier would not be privy to such knowledge.
He needed to find someone of rank. They could at least guide him to where the leadership was staying. Stryg picked a random direction and walked from one row of tents down to another. Surprisingly, he soon found himself standing in front of a tent covered in wards and totems. A row of soldiers and battlemages stood outside. The thorny black rose sigil of House Thorn was displayed across the tent.
One would think that they would keep the temporary home of their leadership more discreet while traveling across enemy lands, but Stryg supposed only Sylvan folk were so prudent. He stared at the row of men and women who oddly seemed incapable of turning their heads a few centimeters and looking in his direction.
Shaking his head, Stryg walked past them and walked straight into the tent.
~~~
“You expect me to believe you just casually walked into my tent? And no one tried to stop you?” Calex asked.
“I don’t think anyone saw me.”
“What?” Calex frowned.
“I know. Strange, isn’t it? I’m still trying to figure it out.”
Calex narrowed his eyes. “Even if you cast some sort of black magic to hide in the shadows or even used a purple illusion to conceal your identity, my men would have stopped you before letting you into my tent.”
“Like I said, they didn’t see me.”
“The wards and enchantments would have gone off the moment you set foot anywhere near this place.”
Stryg shrugged. “What do you want me to say? Your wards suck?”
“The truth. I’d like you to say the truth.”
“Alright. What do you want to know?”
Calex swirled the glass in his hand and stared at his reflection in the amber liquid. “Did you kill my mother?”