Footsteps of the Vezeshen

[Fenris]

((closed to Kryos))

Fihrinn snarled fiercely against the steel muzzle as the paladins threw open the doors of St. Denebriel's. They yanked hard on the chains, dragging him hogtied down the carpeted aisle. His lips were drawn up in an enraged scowl, and though he couldn't open his mouth, he cursed them every way he knew in his mind.

At the end of the aisle, the paladins fastened the chains to several pews and parted. He rolled into a sitting position as best he could with his wrists cuffed to his ankles. From behind the altar, a tall, spindly man draped in cardinal's robes appeared, stalking toward the prisoner with his nose held high.

"So. You are the Dark Wolf of whom I've heard so much." He peered down at his hostage, then huffed and looked away. "Pathetic excuse for an aberration." He seemed to think for a moment before turning back. "You have quite the record of violence against our paladins, you know. I'd started to think you despised the Church." He smiled. "Delicious, then, that you'll soon be in our employ."

Fihrinn's muscles tensed. Not before you rot in hell.

With vampiric grace, the cardinal stepped to the altar. "Of course, I don't expect you to work for nothing. You never do. So, I've gotten some gifts for you." He turned, and in his left hand, held up a simple gold bracelet.

The wolf snarled viciously. Touch me and I'll tear your throat out, bastard!

The cardinal stalked closer, a predator's sneer crossing his face.

"Any man has his price, correct?" With surprising speed, he snapped the bracelet's clasp over Fihrinn's arm.

The captured spy's back arched farther than most would think possible, and he roared like all of hell into the muzzle. The fur around the bracelet withered and charred, and his body started to convulse as the muffled roars of pain came again and again.

The cardinal seized the bracelet, his hand like a snake's strike. The convulsions stopped, and Fihrinn collapsed against the cathedral floor.

"But, I don't suppose even that will sway you," the cardinal said, dripping with mock lament. "Fortunately, men of my office always know where to find leverage."

A side door opened, and Fihrinn heard heavy footsteps enter the room. With a deep breath, he pulled himself up again, and froze.

Four paladins carried a large cage with golden bars. Inside trembled a Modadh-Duine.

"A hunter caught it in the Axe," the cardinal said casually. "Young male. Very nice fur. He almost skinned it, but the local priest advised him to send it to us." He turned that predatorial sneer again to his captive. "How fortuitous."

[Kryos]

Sunlight spilled through the tall windows of the Grand Library of Eluriand. Flecks of dust could be seen in the rays that illuminated massive volumes filled with history. The library was quiet; most of the visitors had left for home, and the librarians were finishing up the days work. Their footsteps echoed around the massive structure as they navigated the maze of shelves.

Kryos sighed and closed the volume he was reading.

Still no information on the Riders. I must be getting close, at least.

Kryos stood. Grabbing his muandrian’s sheath, he slung it on his back, and then threw on his cloak. He walked down the long aisles toward the doors that led outside. He nodded to the receptionist, and pushed the grand doors open. The setting sun glared into his garnet eyes, as he gazed across the city.

Twilight.

Kryos strode rapidly down the library steps. Making his way through the familiar streets, he noticed that children were playing outside of doorways. Kryos smiled. They no longer considered him a stranger.

As he made his way farther west, he passed the gardens. An idea came to his mind, and he changed course, entering the gardens. Swiftly seeking a secluded spot, Kryos passed all sorts of trees, ferns, and flowers.

Here.

The perfect spot. Two boulders close together, with trees and waist high bushes hiding them. Kryos sat, leaning against the mossy surface of the stone. His thoughts drifted to his home, on the other side of the Mountains of Dusk, as he waited for his Lumneye to appear.


~ / | \ ~

Sometime later, Kryos rose. The waxing, crescent moon was now a beacon in the sky. His mind was tired after fargazing in the Fluenta. Moon Gazing still was difficult for him. Stretching, he glanced behind him at Velicë Arta. The palace rose up above the rest of the city, many of its windows still lit. Kryos turned and made his way out of the gardens, looking forward to return to his room and get some rest.

As Kryos neared the gate, he saw two people leaning against the metal bars. They both wore dark colored cloaks, and both of them had blades by their sides. The shorter of the two was hooded, shadows obscuring his face. The other had light hair, and a pleasant expression on his face. Nearing them, they looked up.

“Are you Kryos Ralshyn?” The light-haired man asked.

“Who wants to know?” Kryos replied, his eyes narrowing.

The man smiled, his left hand moving to his sword. “The Aglar’Lindstra.”

The High Bard of Aglarlin? What could she want with me? Kryos contemplated his options. Well, there was only one rational option to take. To insult the Aglar’Lindstra, well, lets just say it wasn’t on his to-do list.

“Very well. Lead the way.”

The man smiled, his hand leaving his sword hilt. Turning, they both walked out of the gate, and started heading toward the towering form of Velicë Arta. Kryos shook his head, and started after them.

Bladesingers.