More Bad News for the Good Guys

[Culix]

Near the top of a mountain in Alerar, one of the smaller individuals to attempt the climb felt a tad nippy. A breeze blew past, showering the child with a fair number of white flakes. "Confound you!" he shouted at the passing air current, shaking off the snow. Luckily, the lad's cry did not summon an avalanche, but it did seem to provoke the wind into blowing a slightly stronger gust in his direction. "Puh!" he sputtered at the snow deposited on his face. With most of it wiped away, the climber continued up the trail. Not wanting to draw out a full-blown gale, he resolved to keep all further resentments to himself, or to express them as unintellible mumblings. Ohh... he seethed inwardly, as he shivered outwardly, Someday, wind... Someday...

After making the latest of these silent, idle threats, the lad paused and opened his bag. He needed a reminder of why he was subjecting himself to such frigid conditions and capricious winds. After all, people like Jannin Relm simply didn't endure such unpleasant conditions without a good reason. So, reaching in, the climber quickly pulled out his bag's newest occupant. Incidentally, it was the same object that had 'mysteriously vanished' from a small museum somewhere in Alerar several days before. The means by which he acquired it were, he would proudly tell others, by deftly snatched it in broad daylight and walking right out, past the oblivious guards. The true version Jannin would vehemently deny. Primarily because it involved him accidentally sealing himself in a chest. The boy remained perfectly still and silent until nightfall, when all had left, mainly out of embarrassment. Then, believing the museum owed him for his time, Jannin looked for some compensation. He made his choice based on two key factors: how intriguing a presentation the curator had offered for each object, and how easily moved each object seemed. Smiling at the object he held before him, the lad believed he'd made the right choice. "The Obscura Imperadore..." he said quietly, and almost reverently.

The object, simply enough, was an urn. It bore some inscriptions Jannin thought he'd find interesting, if he could understand them, but it was, in all other external respects, a very plain pot. What had intrigued the lad were the urn's contents. The artifact held a strange black substance, reminding the boy at times of a churning tar, at times of a swirling mist, and at times of a roaring fire. It seemed to shift with little rhyme or reason. Jannin found that it mesmerized him very easily, if he stared into it for too long. The curator's presentation had proven fairly unenlightening: a rumor of a dark god of conquest known as the Obscura Imperadore -- a name that seemed to have become synonymous with the urn itself -- was mentioned, but she offered nothing more substantial. This didn't bother the boy too much; he distinctly recalled reading something more informative about the artifact. However, to his annoyance, he couldn't remember a thing beyond the object's appearance and that it could bestow great power. On matters of how and whom, alas, he was also oblivious. It once occurred to Jannin he could try to find out by reaching inside and pulling out the black matter. However, in a rare moment of foresight, the lad stayed his hand. Hmm... It'd be really stupid if I died sticking my hand in a jar... Think I'll wait 'til I know a little more.

Which brought Jannin to his present activity: climbing Mount Erebus, and making for the Grander's Order headquarters. He wished to learn as much as he could about the Obscura Imperadore, and for that he would need a library. And, according to what the lad had picked up, that building held one of the largest libraries for miles. That understanding alone was enough to send the boy on the hike in the snow, with next to no knowledge of the people he'd have to deal with. Had he been a tad more introspective, Jannin might have wondered what that said about him. As it was, he merely tucked away the urn and continued along the path, forgetting the wind and humming a cheery tune.

[Raelyse]

The cliché that good news is always accompanied by bad news and bad news accompanied by even worse news was one that always fell on deaf ears whenever it came to Raelyse Salidan. All his life, he had been surrounded by a bubble which not only provided him with wealth and respect but also shielded him from horrible things like bad news and criticisms of himself. Now that he had left his homeland to found and lead the Grander's Order, he enjoyed the same luxuries that he did back in Myrusia. In fact, it could even be argued that his underlings were even more eager to please him because of the fact that he had advanced one more level. Instead of being the son of the king, in the Order, he was king.

"Your highnessssssssss," a nasally voice said, interrupting his concentration. It was the unmistakable babbling of Rickard, an annoying little gnome who the Grander's Order had rescued on one of their raids of the Dwarven mines. Raelyse preferred to call them "Asset Redistribution." Rickard was a slave to the dwarves and some of the soldiers found it amusing to bring him back to Erebus as amusement, to continue his slavery, redistributed to a new employer. The prince of Myrusia had not objected, though the decision to give him the role of personal liaison to Raelyse seemed to grow more and more foolish with each passing moment that nasally voice emerged from in between those two lips. Sometimes, the prince wondered how he managed to part those two things, when a forest of facial hair covered his entire mouth.

"What is it now, Rickard?" The prince responded, obviously showing frustration into his voice. He did not divert his attention from his present task, even though it was not particularly interesting. In all honesty, he had wanted something to do.

"The daily newssssssss, Sir," the gnome responded, instantly pulling a parchment from behind him, unrolling it and slowly reading the words that were scrawled on it. "Four new membersssssssss have been initiated and we now have Miranda Soemamon with us. Clement wantssssss to know when you'd like to..."

For a second, Rickard paused, unsure of how to transfer the information on the scroll to his leader in the best way possible. When he realized he couldn't think of one, he was relieved when his leader did it for him.

"Initiate her?"

"Yessss, your highnesssss."

It was then that Raelyse's frustration became noticeable to him. The gnome's very voice was starting to vex him. Blinking for a moment, he turned to the gnome, lifting his head from his book for the first time and revealing his milky white skin and piercing blue eyes to his servant. "Rickard, my good fellow... Can't you see I'm busy? I'm in a library and what am I doing?" The prince lifted up his book. "I'm reading."

Even though he was not a big fan of reading, even in his youth, Raelyse liked the serene atmosphere of the library. When Erebus was founded, a large empty hall (euphemism for the dwarves' old torture chamber) stood strangely in the north wing of the fortress. Since this castle, hidden away in the Alerar mountains was going to be his home, at least for now, the prince of Myrusia decided that it needed a bit of decoration. A grand ball room had been belt, his bedroom was like no other and yet... all castles he had been to had a library and as such, it was a given. Even though he enjoyed people worshipping him and the superiority it made him feel, Raelyse sometimes liked to escape from it all and just hide away and be by himself. Unfortunately, this pesky little gnome always had a nasty habit of finding him.

The prince of Myrusia then suddenly rose before his shorter servant could make a response, grabbing his cane which rested against a tall book shelf. Standing up and leaning on the walking aid, he turned to Rickard with the most obviously faked sincere smile and shook his head slowly from side to side.

"Rickard, Rickard, Rickard... Do me a favor. I'll be in my chambers but first, I need you to do me this little thing."

"Anything, my lord."

"Arrange all the books..."

"Sir, they already are arranged..."

"Then, do it inside out, upside down and just stay the fuck away from me. And when you're done with that, find someone that doesn't sound like they just ate a carrot through their nose to be my liaison."

The prince of Myrusia snorted as he began to walk towards the exit and away from the literally thousands of books and parchments that lay in this grand room.

"Commoners."

[Culix]

"Phew..." Jannin had just crested a hill, incidentally not far from where the Grander's Order had "liberated" Rickard. "Am I there yet?" A single look told him, "No." A second look, sometimes known as a double take, upgraded this answer to, "Almost." He saw the great stone structure in the same way a canteenless wanderer might see a desert oasis. The dryness of the boy's mouth, as often happened in the mountains, only strengthened the similarity. And there's no chance of this bein' a mirage! he thought, beaming in the castle's direction. The oasis simile had, apparently, occurred to the lad. Almost feeling the leathery covers of the books he'd, no doubt, soon be looking through, he allowed himself a chuckle of anticipation. I'll save the maniacal laugh 'til after the research. With that optimistic thought, he made his way downhill and hurried toward the headquarters of the Grander's Order.

When he drew close enough to accurately gauge its size -- Not bad... Almost a fraction as big as my palace's gonna be --Jannin stopped. He looked himself over with a frown and noticed the run had made him pant a little. Hmm... This won't do... All that exertion made me kinda... icky... As long as I'm borrowin' their library, the owner deserves to see me in all my splendor. Only fair, after all. So, he spread his arms and began to quietly recite the incantation for a spell he'd dubbed 'Freshen Up.' Once he'd finished the short series of arcane words, a feeling of refreshment began to flow over him. All unsightly oil, sweat, and other bits of filth slipped off his body and clothing. Even the few particles of food his dental regimen had missed were drawn away. They all collected into a tiny ball, becoming visible a foot before him. Jannin smiled and ran a perfectly clean hand through his newly silken hair. He shivered at how good it felt. That spell was worth every hour it took to work out. Shame it doesn't help with the panting, though... Ah, well. I can hold my breath a while. Too confident to even reach for his mirror, he strolled past the orb of filth toward the front gates.

Where two guards had observed this strange routine. As a combination of blue and fuchsia tended to stand out in the sea of white, the two men had spotted him the instant he'd gone over the hill. At first, they'd pegged him for a very peculiar dwarf. Perhaps driven mad with a desire for revenge and coming to exact it all by himself. Or hoping to get fashion tips from the Prince. The sentries weren't particularly concerned with motivation; to them, it just meant something to do on an otherwise uneventful day. When the boy drew close enough for them to see he wasn't a dwarf, they relaxed their grips on their spears, chorusing, "Just a kid." They apparently thought nothing of a boy who could climb all the way there. Jannin, by contrast, thought a great deal about their comment. "Just. A. Kid?" he demanded, his cheery expression leaving him as swiftly as the dirt had before. "How dare you! D'ya even have any idea how high above you I am? You two aspire to see my boots! Now, I'll forgive your insolence if ya take me to see the leader here right now!"

The two guards exchanged a light chuckle. There was just something about the kid's attitude... And his clothing would have appeared quite fashionable on an older person... To say nothing of how spick-and-span the boy appeared after his hike... "Heh... Kid, who are you?" one of the guards asked, "Raelyse Jr?" Jannin had entered the situation with no plan in mind. Since the guards didn't seem like they'd be letting him in as he was, and he recalled hearing about the fortress's owner, he decided that moment was as good as any to adopt a scheme. 'Adopt' was an appropriate word, given the plan's nature. "Ah, so he's expecting me," the lad said plainly, a superior smirk entering his face. The guards' laughter slowed to a stop. "Err... You mean you are?"
"Of course. He answered my letter a week ago and said the guards'd let me in today. ... Ya mean you weren't told?"
"Uhh..."
"Ah. I got it. My father said I was expected later this evening, but I'm showin' up early ta surprise him. Obviously, I'm too big a target, so he probably didn't want anyone knowing about me 'til right before I came. So, take me to 'im." Excellent! I didn't even know I could lie that well! Now I'm in for sure! And I'll just drop the act when I get ta the Prince. He's a man of distinguishing taste; unlike these dullards, he'll know a respectable person when he sees one.

The pair digested the boy's falsehood. "Excuse us a moment, your highness," one said, before beginning to whisper back and forth to his partner. "Well, whadda ya think?"
"I'm not really buyin' it. The prince's in his early twenties; I know he's a ladies' man, but I don't see him bangin' chicks at twelve."
"True. But ya know how vain he is. It wouldn't surprise me if he was lyin' about his age."
"You got a point... And the kid does seem a lot like him... Still, I think we would have been given some notice."
"Right. So, ta be safe, I'll wait here, and you go inside to let him know."
"Fuck no! Even if the kid isn't lying, I don't think the Grander is gonna be happy to hear this."
"So what? We did the smart thing and checked with him first. Besides, he's got a temper, but he's not stupid; he's not gonna kill the bearer of bad news."
"Alright, fine, I'll go," the other guard groaned quite loudly before opening the gates and walking to the building, grumbling all the way. Having been too busy congratulating himself on his lies to eavesdrop, the boy assumed the best and began to follow.

He soon found his way blocked by the remaining guard's spear. "And where d'ya think you're goin'?"
"Pfft. Obviously, to my father's stronghold."
"Don't think so. Your 'father' is quite big on security. Nobody outside the Order gets in without his say-so."
"But I'm his son, for cryin' out loud!" Another gust of wind blew by, at which the lad's teeth chattered. "And it's freezing out here! You wanna explain to him how you let his son catch hypothermia?"
"Talk all ya like. 'til my partner or the Grander himself shows up, there's no way you're gettin' inside."
"Urgh..." Jannin shivered. Gotta think up a new strategy... I don't wanna have to cool my heels with this idiot... Reminded of something, he jostled his feet a bit, restoring a little feeling. I hate the cold...

[Raelyse]

Three sounds, in rapid succession of each other warned the members of the Grander's Order that their leader was roaming the halls. When they were quick and loud, it meant that he was usually in a bad mood and any one who did not want to receive the worst possible duty would be wise to jump into the nearest room and hide until the sounds were no longer audible. If they were slower and softer, it usually meant that he was with a woman or was about to go to a woman and that meant that he was more than likely to ignore you completely. If it was somewhere in the middle, it could be anything and to be safe, it would probably be wise to avoid him.

Today, the sound of Raelyse's leather shoes and his sword cane tapping on the tiled floor of Erebus was neither quick nor slow, it was neither loud nor soft. It was somewhere in the middle.

The walls of Erebus reached for the sky, though even on its best day, the blue above was no match for the intricate stained glass paintings that adorned the walls of this mountain fortress. What they depicted was not always clear but what was known was that many recruits and privates had bumped into their superiors as they wandered the corridors, trying to figure out what the beauty above their eyes were trying to depict. Immediately, they would be punished with exercises that their leaders claimed would send enough blood to their head so that they could think properly. When they fell to the ground in fatigue, they began to notice that the beauty above was mirrored or even surpassed by the wonder that stared back up at them.

When Erebus had been found by Raelyse, it was a giant shack. In order to make it fit for him to live, the prince had ordered a dramatic rehaul of the premises. The entire fortress had been retiled with the finest materials from every continent on Althanas, exhibiting the finest designs known to man. Most had been stolen, some purchased and some even crafted. The prince of Myrusia did not care though; it did not affect him in the least. Things like ethics did not exist in his mind.

Most of the library had been information of mining written in a myriad of languages for the benefit of the Dwarves, Erebus' former occupants. Similar to the decorations, the books had been acquired from all over Althanas. The main difference was that even though he had ordered his underlings to attain them, Raelyse only went into the library when he needed to escape someone. If he wanted to read something, he'd get someone to get the book for him.

It was rare that someone would ever approach Raelyse, even when he was outside of Erebus. He carried himself with such grace and exhibited enough self-satisfaction for a small city that no one really had the courage to ask anything of him. So, imagine the look on one of his underling's faces when he had to interrupt the prince as he strode through his stronghold, apparently lost in his own thoughts, a smug sense of satisfaction emphasized in a smirk across his face. It took all of his strength for the guard to move in front of his leader, speaking slowly.

"Uh, Excuse me, sir?"

Raelyse strode by him as if he did not exist, his pace not changing, almost as if to show the underling that he did not exist in the prince's world. The guard mustered up more courage and quickened his pace, speaking again.

"Uh, Excuse me, sir?"

This time the sentence was repeated with more fear and hesitation in his voice. The prince of Myrusia walked a few more steps, seeing the guard follow his pace. Then suddenly, Raelyse stopped, slamming his cane loudly on the ground. The sound of it against the tiled floor echoed throughout the tall walls of the fortress, turning a few heads which quickly turned back when they realized that their leader was involved. As his body posture shifted so that it faced the trembling man before him, Raelyse watched his eyes slowly widen, his lips slowly quivering. He enjoyed this feeling. Having such power and the ability to instill fear was one of the reasons he founded the Grander's Order. He allowed his mouth to curl into a sadistic smirk, only scaring his subordinate even more.

"What?" he asked, a slight tinge of annoyance in his voice.

"Sir, there is a little boy... he... uh... He claims to be your son."

Raelyse hesitated for a millisecond before throwing his head of silver hair backwards and letting out a raucous laugh that echoed throughout the area in the same manner as his cane tap before. It was whole hearted, but was cut short, indicating that he really was feigning amusement, as if he had heard this joke many times before.

He started walking off, the three sounds ringing through the ears of his underlings once more. Not even turning his head as he continued, Raelyse let out a few words that held all the coldness that he usually had.

"Get rid of him."

[Culix]

"-- women to faint, and small kittens to spontaneously combust! Burning down every tree in Raiera would be child's play! The gods themselves are--!" The guard continued to grind his teeth and massage his temples as the boy. Don't kill 'im yet... He could int'rest Raelyse... Prob'ly won't, and then ya can stab 'im... Just wait... He had repeated this mantra to himself a number of times, but was beginning to seriously question the last point. Jannin had incessantly made claims and requests of his temporary attendant, ranging from the almost reasonable "Can't ya just let me wait inside under guard?" to the ridiculous "When the world is mine, I'll consider sparing you." When these attempts proved fruitless, the child seemed to lose his temper and began describing his greatness at length. Though never a particularly religious man, he had to thank the gods when his partner opened and stepped through the gate, ending the babbling.

The returning man wore a face of anger and resentment, and was in such a rage that he forgot to close the gate behind him. He hissed to his comrade, "He said to get rid of him."
"Good," came the reply, as the waiting guard smiled and readied his weapon.
"The fuck you think you're doing? Your dumbass idea probably gave me a mark with the Prince! I'm killing the little bastard."
"Hell no!" The two, by this point, had abandoned all efforts to keep their voices down. "D'ya have any idea how goddamn annoying this kid is ta baby-sit? He just does not shut up!"
"So you had a bad few minutes. Whoop-dee-fuckin'-doo! This could hurt my career!"
"Fine! Compromise: we kill 'im together. Alright?"
"Grr... Alright!"

The two then turned in time to see that Jannin had crept quite close, finished mumbling a series of strange words and extended his hand toward them during their heated exchange. Apparently, when Jannin hears others arguing over who will be allowed to kill him, the lad takes action. They also noted that they had very much gotten into each other's faces, bringing their spears into close proximity. I really hope those shafts are made outta metal... the boy told himself belatedly. Fortunately, they were. The stream of yellow energy flowed from his palm to the weapon shafts, and from there flowed a fair number of volts into the bodies of each. Heh... Shame I don't have time to see the looks on their faces... He sprinted around the stunned pair, through the open gate, and into the courtyard. While his rather short legs ensured he would typically lag behind others, the boy's travels around Althanas had left him surprisingly swift, what with all the things he'd had to flee. He was also quite lucky that the six guards posted in the area had been too busy making idle chit-chat to hear the conversation just outside. They did, however, take note of the hurried stranger and ready their weapons. Aww... Oh, well. I know just the lie... "Don't wanna keep Raelyse waiting," Jannin explained, satisfying them. Firsthand experience had taught all the men that inconveniencing the Grander was most unwise; two even opened the stronghold's doors for him.

The boy regretted that he wasn't able to get a good look at the courtyard as he flew past, but, ever the optimist, presumed he would get another chance later. Once I find the Prince, I'm sure he'll be happy to give me the tour. Sure, he may be a little ticked about my fib, but once he knows who I am, he'll probably take it as a compliment. Again, Jannin held to his oft-disproven conviction that he was well-known. He generally explained away this discrepency in reality by presuming that there had to be a few people who didn't know him, and that he had simply had the misfortune of running into each and every one of them. But surely, he told himself, someone of a prince's distinction musta heard of me! Now, then. Time to ask someone ta point me in the Grander's direction. He put the kibosh on this plan when he reached the doors and heard from behind a faint, "What the fuck was that?" The lad didn't bother turning to see the front guards pushing through and enlightening their comrades. He simply ran into Erebus all the faster, his snow-covered boots slipping a little on the polished tiles, and then ducked down a corridor. Whenever he encountered a suspicious guard -- which was quite often, as it happened -- Jannin shouted what he'd decided was the stronghold's skeleton key: "I was supposed ta meet with Raelyse five minutes ago!" This had the added bonus of the occasional pointed finger.

As he had still not taken a proper rest, running his mouth much of the time he'd waited with the guards, Jannin was beginning to feel a little tired and began panting a little. Phew... Won't be long now. First a meeting with Raelyse, then a more pleasant look around the castle... He smiled and patted the part of his bag where he'd stored the artifact. ... And then research on the Obscura Imperadore.

[Raelyse]

By now, any thoughts, worries or concerns about the unwanted guest had been vanquished from Raelyse's mind, instead replaced by the crippling sense of boredom that now ran through it. Even as foot by foot, he traveled throughout his fortress, he could not shake from his mind a newfound curiosity, a sixth sense that plucked away at his heart strings telling him to investigate this matter. Perhaps it was out of boredom, perhaps it was the fact that he could have another person to toy with. Experience would suggest that it was the latter. The prince of Myrusia fancied himself many things, but one of the more prominent ones were his ability to manipulate people, to toy with them and to exert his own cruel intentions onto them.

He remembered how he had come to procure a young teenage thief. A saucy little minx who had the gall to try and steal from him. She was amateur, despite her claims and it was through skill of his own that the prince managed to turn the tables and steal something of her's for himself. He then forced her to engage in a series of tasks for himself, that she thoroughly enjoyed, despite her clearly unreliable claims. When he was done with her, he discarded her like a roll of used toilet paper onto the streets of Alerar. He did not care what had become of her now.

For a second, Raelyse hoped that it was her again. He had enjoyed the sweetness of her body and the softness of her skin. Memory corrected him though, the statement from his subordinate clearly reminding him that the newest entrant into Grander's Order territory was much younger and much more male and much less desirable than his old toy. He sighed, but quickly rebuffed with a satisfied smile across his small, red lips. This could prove to be even more enjoyable than the last one.

However, Raelyse reminded himself that he had already made the order to turn the little one into a corpse.

As if to snap him out of his thoughts, another underling, one that was slightly more confident emerged from behind one corridor, taking a few steps away from his leader before speaking.

"Uh, sir... I've gathered the 'reconnaissance' officers like you asked and I've assembled them in Operations Room 3. They told me to tell you that they will wait for you to be ready before rendezvous in the meeting area in your quarters, Sir. "

The prince smiled. Even better.

As he began to walk off, he turned briefly and spoke to the messenger.

“Make sure no one enters until we’re done.”

[Culix]

In stressful situations, people tend to lie to themselves. "They'll never look for me in here," is a common example of this phenomenon, and it happened to be Jannin's rationale for diving into a wardrobe. Specifically, the only wardrobe in a room with a door he'd forgotten to close. The boy was actually fortunate enough he'd gotten past the door at all; the guard assigned to that hall had decided he could take no more and, without getting a replacement, had snuck off to take a leak. Incidentally, just as the young mage was settling into his hiding spot, the guard returned.

Seeing the open door inverted the man's newfound feelings of relief and well-being. He considered getting a partner to examine the room with him, but looks up and down the hall told him his options: "Squealer" Sterc and "Blackmail" Trob. Realizing he had nothing with which to pay off the latter, the armored man gritted his teeth. He weighed the possible end results of entering the room and the possible end results of Raelyse finding out about the incident; he resolved to get on a different work rotation as quickly as possible and stepped into the room.

Jannin frowned at these footsteps. He wasn't frightened of the guards -- What kinda threat can a buncha nameless, neanderthalic nobodies give ta someone like me? -- but he was worried about engaging them. A guest, especially an uninvited one, doesn't kill his host's henchmen. It's just kinda rude. And that was the entire reason the lad had found a resting place: he'd finally grown physically tired of running and needed to recover before resuming his search for Raelyse. Standing with bated breath at the back of his box, the boy heard the footsteps walk over to the window, where the guard determined the room had not been broken into, and pause by the large table in the center of the room, as the guard checked beneath it and then determined the paintings on the walls were just as he'd left them. Finally, the footsteps approached the wardrobe.

There was a pause, and then a creak as light flooded into the somewhat musty closet. The guard looked down and saw nothing save the coats that obscured Jannin's presence, then thrust his hand near the top of the wardrobe and felt around, finding nothing but the hooks that held the coats. He sighed in relief and closed the door; he'd reasoned from examining the outside that the wardrobe was neither particularly tall, nor particularly deep, so he had expected any assailant to be crouching, and had checked the upper back as a precaution for a somewhat short individual. The guard hadn't counted on a child, however, and would in retrospect suppose he should have just felt all around the interior. But, at the moment, both boy and man were pleased enough to have not encountered each other.

As the guard closed the door, feeling much relieved, he turned to see a fellow soldier approaching from down the hall, several others behind him. "What were you doing in there?"
"Ah, nothin'. Just thought I heard something."
"Hmm. Well, I hope it was nothing, since the Prince'll be here in a minute. Show these guys in while I go get him."
"Right," came the answer with a nod. So, as one guard left, the other opened the door for the officers.

Jannin, oblivious to the hallway chatter, wondered why there were suddenly so many footsteps piling into the room. Having seated himself on the floor to celebrate his cunning escape from the lone guard, he began to think about how he was going to get himself out of his situation. Ah, well. A little excitement never killed anyone. Again, in stressful situations, people tend to lie to themselves.

[Raelyse]

Confidence incarnate was Raelyse as he strutted like a model on the tiled floor in the more luxurious part of Erebus, the pathway and surrounding area that led to the private quarters of the fortress' leader. Guards were plentiful here, though for fear of enduring the criticism of the potentially volatile prince, they kept the safe distance and observed him from places where they could not find him. As unfinished sculptures of the prince started to decorate the area and ornaments became more flamboyant, the steps that the prince made on the marble floor started to echo more as the ceiling height rose. while the rest of the Grander's Order merely got a plain peach colored ceiling above their heads, the area about fifteen feet in front of their leader's chambers was home to a glitzy glass ceiling, magically tinted so that the light came in different colors each day, depending which one the prince felt like.

This time, as Raelyse approached his chambers' extravagant doors, with the gold handles on either side, he was bathed in red light. Whether it was because of his night of passion or a morning of frustration was unclear, but his underlings learned long ago not to care and just admire the beauty.

The two soldiers standing in front, one of them only closing the door just as the prince approached and sighted them did not have that luxury. In fact, as the prince's facial expression visibly changed from one of nonchalance to one of obvious offence, the two could only watch as their knees shook, their teeth chattered and their pants became a lot wetter. They had not had the privilege of seeing the prince's angry side, though as his slow steps brought him closer and closer to them, his body bathed in red light, they wondered whether they would survive the tell the tale so many had told them. Stories flooded through their minds, particularly the more extravagant ones, but they were quickly forgotten when the prince grew nearer, the red light only making him seem much more imposing and infinitely more angry.

Raelyse loved these moments. The ones where he could exert his superiority over these men, the ones where he could feel so much better about himself. When he was within ten feet of his door and the men who had backed themselves up against it like mice from a cat, a feeling suddenly washed over him. He had no idea what it was, some form of deja vu was the closest he could figure, but still... it was strange and he had felt nothing like this. He paused for a moment, his hand rising as he felt a tremble again, this time in his head, throbbing from the inside.

His visage visibly changed and his mood along with it and when he looked up, all confidence, all excitement at the coming spectacle was vanished. The anger was gone as well and the look that Raelyse gave the two guards in front of him told the prince that the glance was not for them. It was clear that he was conflicting with something internal, for his rage did not emerge from his eyes.

"Get out of here," he managed to stammer out slowly and the guards were more than happy to oblige, nearly tripping over each other and themselves before rushing by the prince and down the hallway, glad that they avoided a possible bollocking from their leader.

The throbbing only got stronger when the prince was alone and his vision blurred slightly. He closed his eyes, moving it into his left hand, which he noticed was wet with sweat. His right hand began to tremble and since it was holding his cane, the prince's balance began to suffer slightly, his entire body slumping and nearly falling over. His knees weakened and his clothes, impeccable just a few short moments ago were now beginning to feel the taint of sweat.

Do I have your attention now?

Instantly, Raelyse raised his head and glanced around, wondering who would dare speak to him like that here, in his fortress. When no one was visibly present, he realized that the voice had not been heard by his ears because no sound had been made. Those words had been spoken inside his head.

"Who do you think you are?" the prince asked rhetorically, because he knew that he would receive no answer. From outside his room, at least. He knew what had created the feeling within him, he knew what had spoken those words inside his head. A smirk formed on his face, the prince impressed with his own intellect. He knew that there was a some form of magic within his room, a magic that had some sort of interest in him. Whether it was friendly or not, the prince did not care. If it was, he would exploit its power for himself and if it was not, he would get rid of it and that would eat up time and get rid of his boredom.

With a swagger that would put a beauty queen to shame, the prince strode forward purposefully, his posture now fully straight and imposing. His hand reached for the door and he pushed it open with all of his strength, crashing either side of the door into the wall, a loud slam echoing throughout the prince's over decorated quarters.

"Alright!" the prince screamed into the area, his head scouting for the foreign presence. "I know you're here, so stop wasting my patience and show yourself! I know you're reasonably powerful so come out already so we can play!"