Welcome to Gaia! ::

Ok, I didn't get to the wedding... that will happen next chapter. But who? who? who? Feel free to guess...

**********************
Nineteenth Movement - The Civil and Proper Use of Alchemy

"Well, we both saw that she was made out of poison." Narshe had been pondering the mystery of the creature she had encountered the previous day. Cosette nodded. "And she regenerated her head!? That's pretty impressive. There are only a few things I know of that can do that... It's a shame, but I'm really not an expert on these sorts of things." Narshe tapped her forehead in quandary. She and her master sat alone in the parlor of the villa, Narshe polishing her glasses as Cosette smoked thoughtfully from her gilded pipe.

"Where is Hylie?" Cosette asked at last.

"It's the day she usually goes to town. She's probably getting acquainted with the area now."

"And Malgrave?"

"He's packing--leaving for his home back in Europe for the weekend." Narshe stopped suddenly, and slammed a fist into her open hand, crimson eyes lighting up. "That's it! Malgrave mentioned something to me once about creatures that could be made with Alchemy."

"Oh, really?" Cosette sat back, crossing her arms.

"I can't remember what they were called... but he said they operated on different chemical principles than most living creatures. Perhaps that's what the 'poisonous girl' was..."

"Hm... maybe it's worth asking." Cosette took a deep breath from her pipe, then placed a hand over her mouth. As she breathed out smoke through her fingers, it took on the shape of a small bird, which whisked away and out of the door.

A few moments later, Lord Malgrave's soft knocking came at the entrance to the parlor.

Cosette invited him in and, after explaining what exactly she had encountered asked his opinion.

"Hmm... well, artificial creatures can be created with Alchemy, but they're far too... hmmm... crude to resemble what you encountered. Most are shambling abominations that die within hours. Those that can survive are usually unable to sustain their biologies. Naturally, creatures created from such chemistries require rather esoteric and unconventional food to sustain themselves." The man in red leaning back, folding his hands over his waist. "I'm planning to leave with Ghaith for India this evening, but if you wish to accompany me for a bit, there will be an... exhibition of sorts... this afternoon in one of the downtown areas. You might be able to witness these creatures firsthand." Malgrave smiled his sinister smile. "It's not an event for the weak of stomach."

"Of course, I'd be happy to accompany you." Cosette did not hesitate to accept the challenge. "And I'd like to know what business you have in India as well."

"That's little concern to you." The noble sniffed, "but it's unbecoming to leave one's estate unattended for too long."

"I'm asking because I have business in that area as well. I presume Ghaith would not object to a detour to take me to Nateel's monastery as well?"

Malgrave was clearly displeased by this development. "He's a man of business. If you pay him, then I'm sure he will oblige you. May I take leave?"

"Yes, and thank you." Cosette waved a hand, and the smoke which filled the room seemed to pull aside the door in order to make an exit. "Would you pack my things, Narshe?"

"As you wish, mistress..." Narshe stood.

"And don't call me 'mistress'." Cosette looked at her with a narrow glare.

* * * * *

Lord Malgrave, Hylie Mignon, and the young Empress Garidion walked together through the streets of Chicago, following the twists of the city down into deeper and shadier parts. It reminded Cosette of her journey to meet Malgrave through Ziphlin. In searching for him back then, Cosette had seen a side of the city she never imagined existed--it was an unseemly side she perhaps could have done well without realizing.

As she saw now, these "hidden cities" of the old empire were not limited to Europe. They passed first by tarot fortune tellers, then shady bars and esoteric apothecaries offering strange amenities and remedies. Another alleyway revealed to the two a bookstore that seemed to emanate with black magic, and another fortune teller standing before a menagerie of caged animals--a haruspex willing to grant future insight at the price of an innocent animals' life.

Cosette objected to blood sacrifice--it was very rarely necessary, and perhaps entirely avoidable--though she had been forced to use it herself in a few dire situations. Her objections were entirely professional, naturally. Her arguments might follow something like this.

All divination, at least in arcane magic--comes from some source, usually a fatespinner class demon with its myriad eyes all across the world and time. Other spells follow similarly--just an exchange with some demon or other, be it a destroyer slinging fireballs or a mourner charming the weak-minded. There are various things a demon desires, but the shedding of blood is what allows them to grow stronger. If a demon sheds blood by its hand, or blood is shed in its name, its powers grow.

This isn't a problem in itself, but as a demon grows, it needs more and more blood to grow stronger... eventually the sacrifices must become larger, until the magician loses his credibility, and has to pay exorbitantly for even small services. It's certainly best to avoid blood, and wheedle out favors through other means.

Cosette nodded to herself, satisfied with this line of thought. Perhaps she should put all these insights into a book of some type... her ancestors had written books of magic, but they were all in obscure languages or strange dialects. What her empire needed was a handbook to explain to the layman what kind of magics were healthy and proper.

As she was lost in her thoughts, Hylie spoke up, "so, what the hell did you drag me back to see?" She was looking around the town uninterestedly.

"We brought you to carry luggage. Not to see, and not to speak." Cosette clipped, upset at having her musings intruded upon.

"Today, I'll introduce you to a true gentleman's sport. I daresay you should find it quite engaging, demon." Malgrave laughed.

The three of them had arrived at a great door, set inside a building in the shadiest portion of town Cosette had seen yet. She couldn't believe it was the same city they had walked through from the villa, with its flashing lights and clubs and high class fashion and fancy restaurants. This area was dark, unlit, and filled with ragged-looking people who gave Cosette a hungry stare as she passed by in her finery.

"What sort of place is this?" Cosette gave the building a critical look.

"An arena, of sorts." Malgrave motioned to the two strong men guarding the entrance. They stepped aside with a nod, and bore open the building's heavy doors, allowing the three visitors entry.

The inside of the arena was vast and decorated. It was a circular room, with a pit at the center. It was tiered, so that onlookers could sit or stand over the railings and look down upon the spectacle below. Smart-looking waiters and waitresses were serving drinks and food to well-dressed men and women, who sat at tables on the upper tiers, while those in more common clothing sat around bars and ordered drinks on the levels below.

"Well, well, Lord Hulbrenth Malgrave Landraner... the Southern Asian champion, and highly ranked in Europe as well... to what does our humble establishment owe the honor?" A small, round gentleman in a black tuxedo stepped forward, proffering a hand to the tall vampire. He wore a monocle in his right eye, and his graying hair was swept to either side in a fairly standard part.

"You are in the presence of royalty." Malgrave looked over to indicate Cosette. "My acquaintance tonight is the Witch Queen, her Dark Majesty Cosette Garidion. It would be more fitting that you show your respects to her first."

"G... Garidion!? Why... such an honor... I had never imagined... well of course, no picture exists, so I could not have known..." the man seemed a bit shaken, but managed to recover in time to make a low bow. "I'll clear the best box for you both at once. Oh, forgive me, I'm Whitham, the owner, very honored." Whitham bowed again, before signaling some of his staff to take suits and hats from the guests. "Will your servant be dining downstairs?" Whitham looked at Hylie with a careful eye. He seemed to know what to look for in gauging his customers. "We have imports from the Underworld, freshly summoned this evening. I'm sure it will suit your tastes."

"You are dismissed." Cosette nodded to Hylie, as she and Malgrave were led away and up several flights of stairs to the highest box. The two were seated at a private table, overlooking the arena down below. There must have been several hundreds gathered here tonight, all eager to see whatever sport it was that Malgrave had his interests in. The two were presented with opera glasses to watch the spectacle below, and menus to begin making their order.

"Will you be entering tonight's event? It's a regional tournament." Whitham smiled an expectant smile. Perhaps he was hoping to announce an international challenger to his audience.

"Well, it would be presumptuous to enter a competition on my first visit... I'm not carrying enough samples for a tournament anyway." Malgrave hissed, looking over the edge of the box casually. He reached a hand into the left breast of his vest and took out a vial of faintly fluorescent blue liquid, corked with an ornamental glass stopper shaped like a raven at the top. The substance had a sick, uneven look to it. It moved in the glass vial of its own volition, as though trying to grasp some way out. "But, if you're going to do a few warm-up matches, just to get the mood right, perhaps this will do."

"I'm sure the crowd will be pleased to hear we have a alchemist of your caliber among us this evening." Whitham took the vial gingerly and placed it in a specially made case one of the waiters offered him. The case had five empty slots for such vials. As the decorative case was clicked shut and locked securely, their host bowed again to Cosette and Malgrave. "Please, let us know when you wish to order, and we shall prepare you a dinner fit for royalty."

The two guests thanked him, and began browsing the menu.

"My English isn't good enough to understand what any of this is..." Cosette sighed to herself. She traced out a small sign on the menu with her finger, and the words reshaped themselves into familiar Romanian.

"I suggest you wait until the game begins." Malgrave looked over the box again. With the opera glasses he had received, he could clearly see the sandy floor of the arena below. "It may affect your appetite."

"So, why don't you explain to me the rules?" Cosette put down her menu, which reverted to its native English as it left her fingers.

"Oh, you'll see soon enough." He tapped his painted nails together and smiled an unnerving smile at the Empress. "In the days of the Renaissance Empire--or more precisely, in its swift rise to power--chimeras were used as weapons of war. The art of creating such beasts eventually evolved into this sport as you see it today." A voice began to bellow out over the stadium, just pleasantly audible from the high box where Cosette and Malgrave sat. "It seems it's starting."

"Tonight, we have a special treat for you all!" The announcer bellowed, "a special 'warm-up' match, just to whet your appetites for tonight's tournament! Our special guest, Lord Hulbrenth Malgrave Landraner, a leading competitor in Europe and Asia, offers his talents for show against one of our higher ranked members here from your own hometown of Chicago--Tony Sarl!" There were cheers and jeers from all sides, as the crowds on the lower levels shouted in anticipation, and those at the higher levels chatted excitedly.

"The stock will be chosen by random draw, as per official rules..." The announcer reached into a hat offered by one standing beside him, and drew forth a slip of paper. "Dogs!" he cried out, to another round of calls from the audience.

"Dogs?" Cosette gave Malgrave an inquisitive look.

"That formula was generally balanced, so it should fare well... though goats would have been a better stock for it." He seemed to be thinking intently.

Two men in heavy gear brought forth a pair of snarling dogs, probably strays from the city, and attached their chains to hooks on the floor at either end of the arena. From behind these two came two more valets, each with a locked case in hand. As the announcer and judge nodded to each valet in turn, the cases were unlocked, and two vials brought forth. They were too far away to see which was which, but from the indication of the announcer, Malgrave's formula would be the one on the left.

The burly men each took hold of a dog, and wrapped a gloved hand around each snout, prying the beasts' teeth apart. The valets then stepped forward, each uncorking the vial in his hands and draining its contents down the dog's throat. After the each of the creatures had swallowed the substance forced upon it, both pairs of men stepped back, and retreated to the entrances to the arena, stone gates slipping down after each.

"And so, it needs a minute to take." Malgrave explained, as Cosette watched intently. The dog on the right, the one fed Sarl's concoction, tensed up its body and bristled its fur suddenly, letting out a howl that cracked midway through into a high wheeze. Scales and horns pierced through its skin in a small pool of black blood, as its tail grew to become a long, whiplike implement with a large stinger attached. The beast's claws grew and transformed into talons, black and bristled with sharp hairs. The thing was panting heavily now, and an acidic green liquid dripped from its jaws. It broke its chain easily, pawing the dirt as it stepped forward on impossibly powerful legs. The once sickly dog, no more than two feet in size, was now easily as large as a full-grown bull, and infinitely more deadly.

"Ugh, that's revolting." Cosette swallowed hard and tried to look away from the perverse aberration. Curiosity, however, brought her gaze back to Malgrave's creature. The dog whined as though it were in pain, then dropped onto one side, apparently dead. A few moments passed.

Nothing changed.

People on the lower levels were beginning to jeer, while those on higher ranks talked in hushed voices among one another. There was silence again as the dog's body bubbled.

The creature was spreading out, thinning, as though it had lost all consistency and become a liquid version of what it was before. Only a still beating heart, now laced with veins and corrupted flesh of various colors, remained in the center of the mess. The dog-puddle bubbled up and gathered itself together, levitating from the floor. It was now more gas than liquid, but a gas tightly held together as one consistent creature.

The crowd was rapt with excitement. They had never seen a creature quite like this one. The announcer made a comment about 'exotic Asian secrets of alchemy' and 'rare herbs collected in the heart of Africa'. With a growl and a hiss like steam, both creatures lunged forward at one another.

"This is perhaps the most advanced kind of 'living poison' alchemy can create." Malgrave explained to Cosette. "As you can see, it's nothing so graceful as what you seem to have encountered." Cosette merely nodded. She was just grateful that she had waited to order dinner until after the contest.

The spherical creature spread itself out as a cloud and surrounded the horned monster, snaking in from all sides. Its throbbing heart dodged the strikes of the beast's barbed tail as tendrils of living toxins snaked towards its mouth, nose, and the open wounds in its hide left by the emergence of horns. Just as the black miasma reached inside the monstrous chimera's nostrils, the vicious tail of its adversary struck home in its heart. A splash of acid and chemical life cascaded down upon the back of the more tangible creature, which choked and gnashed violently as it continued to be invaded.

"Creatures like this are rare to find in a contest of this nature, since chimeras are especially resilient to poison. Luckily, I had herbs on hand which are too rare to synergize with anything these Americans might have." Malgrave watched the action from above, making mental notes of his creature's performance. As the black cloud sucked one of its tendrils back in and regenerated a portion of its heart, the alchemist nodded to himself. "I tried to emulate what you described to me earlier today in this chimera. Perhaps it will prove to be more of a success than I thought."

The horned chimera was now writing on the ground, thrashing about with no hope of reaching the heart of its attacker.

"Just a bit more..." Malgrave looked anxious. The cloud around his chimera was growing thinner, but its victim seemed on the edge of death as well. "No!" A cuffed fist slammed the table. Around Malgrave's chimera, the black cloud of poison that made up its body grew too thin to support its hovering heart, which dropped from the air and dried up in an instant. It was mere dust by the time it reached the floor of the arena. The black miasma swooped out from the remaining creature's nostrils and vaporized in the air.

"What happened?"

Malgrave cursed, then explained through gritted teeth. "Creatures like this have a very limited lifespan... their gaseous bodies collapse constantly, so unless they kill quickly, they will expire on their own before any other kind of chimera." He took a deep breath, and straightened back up. "This is what I find hard to believe about the creature you encountered. No chimera could put out as much poison gas as you described based on its volume. And even if it had, it would have run out of biomatter and died in the process."

"I see." Cosette tried to purge what she had witnessed from her mind. What kind of person could create such a cruel sport, and what kind could participate in one. If she had found Lord Malgrave unnerving and forward before, she now found him disgusting and perverse. She ordered some alcohol from one of the waiters to try and clear her head.

"And the winner?" She asked. The horned chimera was still thrashing about violently, attacking the walls and the ground below it in some hope of escape.

"Well, war chimeras like those Enlu used are created through years of potion-therapy, are vastly more powerful, and live for eons. However, these accelerated breeds require only a few minutes to live, fight, and die. It's just a matter of seconds now before the other one follows mine. Such is the lot of lesser beings." Cosette felt sure he was grouping humans along with chimeras in his statement. They must all be equally insignificant in the scope of a vampire's immortal life.

However, Sarl's chimera did not shrivel up and die after a few moments. It continued to ram the wall. More specifically, it continued to ram a specific portion of the barrier, that began to crack. People were getting worried on the lower levels.

Malgrave looked grim, "There must have been some sort of reaction between the chemicals in our chimeras... it could be troublesome."

* * * * *

"It's not stopping." One man looked nervous on the lower level.

"Well, they'll have to shoot it, or something." Another was watching intently. Gunshots echoed from the lower level, as a few valets attempted to shoot down the beast. Bullets glanced off of its hide, all to no avail.

Hylie Mignon downed another shot of whatever was being served at the bar and grinned over the railing wider than any normal human could manage. Her green eyes were flashing excitement at the spectacle she was watching. With a growl, she taunted the chimera on, as it smashed its horns once more against the wall below her.

The crowd which had been thick around her first was now thinning out. As the beast clawed up on the wall, Hylie yawned. She was tired of waiting on the thing. Her sense of propriety, weak as it already was, was completely dulled by alcohol as she dropped herself over the side of the arena and landed beside the chimera.

As the demon tumbled, she landed a side kick into the chimera's neck, which sent the both of them crashing into the dust of the floor. Hylie stood back up, swaying slightly, and stretching her neck from side to side. Spectators were gripping the rails and the establishment's staff looked about frantically, wondering what to do in such an unprecedented situation. As the chimera leapt up and charge, Hylie clenched both her fists together and met its rush with a single swing, calling forth the full depths of her Destroyer's might.

There was a sharp yelp as the beast's neck snapped, and its body spiraled twice through the air before smashing into the gravel and sliding to a stop at the arena's opposite wall. Hylie shook her hands, as though she had touched something very hot. As she looked up to the crowd for approval, there were mixed reactions. At first no one was sure of what to say, but at last cheers began to spread up from the lower levels of the stadium. Someone from the lower levels, the servants' ranks, had managed to take down the beast in a single blow. The riffraff from which she had emerged, at least, were excited.

As the remaining chimera's body withered into dust, the gates to the arena opened, and Whitham, followed by the announcers, valets, and strong men who had brought the dogs approached her.

"That was... amazing." Whitham was a mix of fear and admiration. "You, you're Empress Garidion's servant, aren't you?"

Hylie nodded, standing proudly.

"Are you... interested in a part time job, perhaps?" Whitham offered, a salesman's smile crossing his features.

* * * * *

"Well, that was a disaster averted." Malgrave looked down. "At least they got the good show they wanted."

"And you're not the least bit upset over losing?" Cosette read his expression a little too well.

"It was an experiment, nothing more. My more orthodox concoctions would have easily won, as I'll prove at the next event here."

"I'm surprised that such a bloodsport exists within my empire..." Cosette looked away. "But I seem to have read somewhere about this sort of thing. Maybe it was in mother's journals..."

Dinner was a largely silent affair, and, after they had finished dining, Malgrave had a valet fetch Ghaith. The privateer appeared a few moments later, wearing a loose uniform of apparently middle-eastern origins. His decorative eyepatch still covered his right eye--an eye Cosette had enchanted once, transforming it into the Evil Eye, which sees far and wide across the earth. From his expression, Ghaith seemed pleased to see them both.

"Milady, Lord Malgrave." Ghaith bowed, "darkness has fallen, and the I'dad al-oda is prepared to fly. Are you ready to embark?"

"Yes, I think so." Cosette nodded to Malgrave, who assented.

"Hylie will carry our things." Cosette ran a finger around the edge of Solomon's Key, the glowing pendant the hung over her pale neck. A few moments later, Hylie indeed appeared, the excited thrill of battle still evident in her posture and features. She was carrying a large number of trunks, and a few bottles of spirits that had apparently been awarded by her admirers after the battle.

* * * * *

A few uneventful days of flying took them across the sea and over India. Were it not for a few storms brewing in the north, Cosette would have found herself at Nateel's home straightaway. However, in light of the weather conditions, Ghaith thought it best that they take refuge at Lord Malgrave's palace for a day or two.

The Idad' Al-oda touched down at dusk in a wide courtyard upon a plateau in the Midwestern part of India. the weather was cooling, but still quite a bit warmer than Illinois. This annoyed Cosette, who had expected to spend her time in Tibet, and thus had brought along only her furs to wear. Since Hylie had not come along, it fell to Ghaith to carry the little empress's luggage, a task he undertook without complaint.

Malgrave, carrying his own things, stepped out of the airship first, greeted by a chorus of "Papa! Papa!" as six young girls rushed around him. Cosette, watching from the doorway, was even more surprised to see a young woman walk up behind them and throw her arms around him in an embrace.

"Ah, Parvati, it's good to be back." Malgrave's voice had the slightest hint of relief beneath its standard nonchalance. "You're aging wonderfully."

"Who are our guests?" She spoke in Hindi, and looked Cosette up and down without reverence. Her dark hair was braided into a knot upon her head, then fell down in three long ponytails behind her back. It blended softly into a caramel-colored complexion accented with large, black eyes. She was wrapped in a Sari, a single sheet that formed a full body covering when properly draped. As to her features, the woman was rather plain. She could not have been more than a few years older than Cosette.

"This is her majesty, Cosette Garidion." Malgrave explained. "I told you of her in my letters."

"Oh yes." Parvati smiled sweetly, giving a curtsy. "I was a dear friend of your great-grandmother Aktrise. I'm sure we will come to be good friends as well."

"That Parvati?" Cosette remembered reading the journals of her many grandmothers. She had heard mention often of someone named Parvati, but Aktrise had not been among the living for many years. "You're..."

"Despite her looks, Parvati is several centuries old." Malgrave explained. "But come, we should make acquaintances inside, milady." He tried to lead the way in, but was being tugged along by the six children, each dressed similarly to Parvati, though their features were each far different from hers and from one another.

Ghaith and Cosette followed Malgrave and his family into their palace--a great building of white stone, filled with works of art and literature and science. It was a far cry more grand than the Villa Vivikadvra--but it was a palace, not a villa, after all.

"Lord Enlu granted me this place for my service." Malgrave explained, "I used to rule over a large portion of India, before the empire fell. At that point, I secluded this palace from human society, and retreated here."

"Its spectacular." Cosette was struck by the grandeur of the place. Servants dressed in western formal wear took their heavy coats and luggage, as Malgrave and Parvati led the way from the grand courtyard entrance down red-carpeted marble halls and into the sitting room of the palace.

"It's little compared to the Dark Emperor's palace at the height of his power." Malgrave recalled as they entered. "The Imperial Architects summoned and assembled this place in a single fortnight with their magics. His own palace, Domus Noctum et Diem--the house of Nights and Days--took those same masters six years to create. Such a shame that the empire's most glorious achievement was lost." Lord Malgrave himself seemed lost in thought for a moment.

Parvati leaned in close to him and whispered a few words into his ear. Malgrave nodded, without a smile, and turned back to Cosette. "Milady, Parvati will take care of your accomodations. I have to attend to the children for the moment." He breathed a sigh, and bowed himself out of the room.

Cosette sat down in a rather enviable wing-backed chair, while Ghaith stood at attention beside her. The sitting room was vast, and filled with interesting pieces of art--masterworks of the Renaissance Empire--and strange technomagical devices which Cosette recognized from her history books. The little empress was surprised to say the least that she should find a woman so close to the unnerving Hulbrenth Malgrave--and even more so to learn that he had children. As she looked for a way to put these awkward thoughts into words, Parvati spoke up.

"You probably find it a bit surprising that Hulbrenth keeps me and my adopted children here." She explained.

"Exceedingly," breathed Cosette, relieved that Parvati had elected to answer her most pressing question for her.

"I've stayed here in this palace for three centuries, kept young by Master's potions." She did not seem ashamed or embarrassed at her situation. Cosette supposed explanations must come naturally after three hundred years of giving them. "He keeps me for my blood--apparently he finds me more appetizing than any other creature he has encountered. Much like humans will pay a high price for a rare wine, some vampires keep humans as slaves, taking their blood at intervals."

"You don't seem like much of a slave." Cosette noted, though she had heard of such horrible practices before. Apparently Narshe had kept several of these 'pet' humans in the past as well, until one of Cosette's grandmothers had finally forbade it.

"When he was a young man in Africa, Hulbrenth himself was brought to Europe as a slave. It was your ancestor, Enlu, who freed him from the rule of his masters during the rise of the Renaissance Empire. Since he endured so much cruelty from those masters, he vowed never to keep a slave. Though a vampire cannot truly know love, I feel that he must remember his humanity somehow... he is so kind to me, and to my children. He'll be telling them one of the stories of his adventures now..." Parvati smiled a smile that seemed so familiar to Cosette. It was like Knale's smile--the smile of someone who is at perfect agreement with the state of the world.

Cosette could tell that Parvati was truly happy. But with Malgrave... it was difficult for her to imagine cold Malgrave--the sinister, cruel, calculated Malgrave--being described in such loving, familiar terms by anyone. Perhaps the young witch still had much more to learn about the hearts of humans--and vampires.

"Whether he can truly love me or not, I love him. I love him enough for both of us. I'm sure that's not difficult to understand, especially for someone like you. Everyone must be chasing after the hand of such a beautiful young Empress."

Cosette looked around unsure of what to say. As her eyes met Ghaith's eyes looking at her, she quickly looked down with a bright blush. "R...regretably, I know little of love."

"Well," Parvati smiled again, "I'm sure it's just a matter of time. Let me lead you to the guest suites. You must be tired." The woman stood, and beckoned to Cosette with one hand. "Your usual room is already furnished, Ghaith."

Ghaith bowed at the waist and walked out, leaving Cosette to follow Parvati down another hallway.

To be continued...

I'm counting on you to correct Malgrave's latin for me when he describes the palace "Domus Noctum et Diem--the house of Nights and Days" ^_^

I'm really proud of how this story turned out. I imagine that reactions to the ending will be rather varied. We shall see...

Twentieth Movement: The Dark Inside Her

This story is a continuation of chapter 19, “The Civil and Proper Use of Alchemy”…

Cosette awoke with a yawn, stretching her neck as rays of gentle sunlight crept over her face. She had managed to retreat away from them once or twice, but there was no more escape without falling off of the fluffy bed, and she was becoming exasperated with her own laziness anyway. Shielding her eyes from the sun, invading through its huge window to the southeast, Cosette rose and dismounted from the high four post bed with a small hop. Padding across the carpet of the expansive guest suite in Malgrave’s palace, she found that all of her luggage was already laid out.

Not wanting to cause a fuss, she picked a simpler outfit, one she could put on without assistance from any of the servants in the house. As she finished tying the black ribbon around her long, silvery hair, she realized that she was not alone in her room. Reflecting in the room’s large looking glass, Cosette caught the figure of Knale Sye Kolor, standing near the curtains of the room’s single massive window.

“You… you were watching me dress?” Cosette whirled around, unsure whether to be shocked or confused.

“No, I’ve been watching out of the window.” Knale spoke calmly, without turning around. “You may have a pretty face, but I’m not really interested in you.”

“I thought demons didn’t have reflections either.” The little empress looked back into the glass again.

“Ah, well, as it happens I have a human soul.” Knale turned to Cosette, tapping the ornamental piece which held her cloak together. It was like a red crystal, held in place by a web of gold. Inside the crystal, a soft flame seemed to burn, producing its own flickering light. “One needs a human soul to commute between all the aspects of this world, since it is humanity which completes the gap between the many facets of reality.”

“Oh, is that so?” Cosette looked critically at the jewel. “And what did that cost you?”

“Eternal youth, beauty, and power–The usual offerings.” Knale shrugged with a soft laugh. “It’s because I have this that I can appear in your world… did you not ever wonder why Nidhoggr or the Domesday Clock or any of the other hidden powers don’t simply come into out the world and have their way with it? They lack that critical element–a human soul. That’s why we have to use humans of particular talent–such as yourself–to accomplish our means.”

“You seem free enough to me. Why haven’t you just brought your demons in and done your worst?” Cosette looked disinterestedly at some of the books left on the guest table, including a historical record of her ancestor Enlu’s life.

“That wouldn’t be fair to the others,” Knale smiled her serene, perfect smile–the smile of one who is at perfect harmony with all the world. “Besides, I don’t want anyone else to catch on–they might try to copy me, and that could truly be disastrous.” She walked around from the window, coming to stand beside Cosette, who was still looking idly about. “Besides, I’m delighted with your progress, my pet–I certainly don’t want to step in and steal your spotlight.”

“Hmph.” Cosette turned away, stepping out from before Knale. “It’s time for me to depart.”

“Yes, yes…” Knale scratched her neck with one long nail. “Give my regards to your cousin–and her masters–won’t you?” Before Cosette could make any reply, Knale’s form faded in the rays daylight and vanished, melding once more into empty air.

*****

After a breakfast and some light conversation, Ghaith and Cosette bid farewell to Malgrave, Parvati, and their children, and boarded the I’dad al-oda to set off for the chilly reaches of Tibet to the North. Once they were up over the clouds, the sailing was smooth and the sky was clear. Cosette lost herself in a science fiction novel which Archeme had mailed to her, reclining idly on the cushions of the airship’s sitting room. She looked up when Ghaith came in, carrying a sketchbook and some charcoal. He sat down at the table on the other end of the room, and began scratching away idly in the book, glancing up now and then at Cosette.

“What are you drawing?” She asked at last, overwhelmed by the sneaking suspicion that she was being watched.

“Oh.” Ghaith startled for a second, turning the sketchbook facedown. “Nothing really.”

Cosette saw right through that. “Are you trying to draw a picture of me?” She asked.

“Well, now that I have this eye, I thought that I might put it to some use, and take up the arts.” His Romanian was definitely getting better than it was when they had first met. Had he been studying that as well?

“How thoughtful. I admire that you’re cultivating some artistic talent. You don’t object to showing me?” She held out a hand expectantly.

“I’m just a beginner.” Ghaith stated. He did not seem ashamed of his lack of skill, but accepted it with the kind of reserved detachment his confident attitude dictated. He handed the girl his sketchbook with a blank expression, his one black eye calm, while the all-seeing right eye glowed softly opposite it.

“Hm… you’ve got some talent…” Cosette brushed aside a lock of hair, while she looked at the rough picture of herself. “Let’s see…” she glanced over at Ghaith, and took the piece of charcoal from beside him. She made a few swift strokes on the page, adding in his figure beside hers on the couch. After a minute of drawing, she set the book down for his inspection. Cosette’s expert depiction of Ghaith looked rather stunning beside the man’s amateur scrawl of the empress. After another moment of consideration, she reached over and corrected a few missing details on the sketched Ghaith’s coat.

“Art is much like magic, did you know?” Cosette began explaining, as Ghaith marveled over the piece. “In fact, artistic talent was one of the tests used to gauge magical talent in the Renaissance Empire. You see, both art and magic involve the same idea–reflecting the truth within your soul into the real world. The only difference is that with magic, your canvas is the world itself.”

“I’m impressed.” Ghaith sighed, looking again at the comparative two pieces.

“You could do that too–you have the talent, just not the technique.” Cosette pointed, noticing that his expression was a little less confident than before. “Don’t look at me, look inside yourself. What do I really look like to you? Draw from your heart–not from your eyes.”

“I’ll try.” The young adventurer took his book and charcoals back and turned to a new page. Closing his eyes for a moment to solidify the image in his mind, he began to sketch.

“Relax.” Cosette watched his hand move across the paper, cautious at first, but more and more freely at her command. A few minutes later a decent–though still imperfect–picture of Cosette had taken form upon the paper.

“See, you’re doing better already.” Cosette studied the picture. “Perhaps not enough to start practicing Sorcery, but you don’t really seem like the type anyway.”

Ghaith sat back and looked at the picture. He seemed satisfied with the results. “Do you mind if I put some music on? I think it will help with my practice.”

“It’s your ship.” Cosette shrugged, tossing her hair back as she sat down again, finding her page in the novel once more. “Do you write?”

“Not outside of my receipt-books.” Ghaith shook his head, placing a record onto a newly purchased gramophone. As he set the needle to the disc, distinctly Middle Eastern music began to play through the cabi. For the first time, Cosette noticed that the place did have a very culture-specific feel to it. An Arabian rug covered the floor, while a pair of scimitars were crossed and braced to one wall. A map with scrawlings in Arabic adorned the back wall, and the curtains drawn to reveale the sea of clouds outside were handwoven with delicate care.

“Why do you ask?” The adventurer looked back to Cosette, who had lost herself in thought.

“Oh,” she came back to her senses, “I was thinking of putting together a book. But don’t worry about it.” Cosette attuned her ears to the music. It was a gentle, flowing sound, like the kind for a slow dance. “Do you dance?”

“Somewhat.”

“Can you teach me?” Cosette stood up, trying to catch the time of the music with the tap of one foot.

“I…” Ghaith took a breath, looking for explanation. “In my culture, we have dances that men do, and dances that women do… it’s seen as improper for men and women to dance together, so I was never taught any such things.” He seemed disappointed in himself.

“I see.” Cosette was clearly crestfallen. She picked up her book after a moment, and tried to fall back into her reading. At last, she closed the novel with a sigh. “I’m going back to my room for a rest. These English novels are tiring to read.”

Ghaith nodded to her, with a smile. She returned a halfhearted smile as she left.

*****

“Cosette!” A pair of tan-skinned arms threw themselves around Cosette as her cousin Nateel embraced her with a great lunging hug. “I’m so excited that you could come!” The two of them were standing before Nateel’s monastery, Cosette in her heavy furs and Nateel in her standard ascetic’s robe, her shoulder-length black hair hanging loosely in the crisp mountain air of the plateau of Tibet.

“Let’s get inside. I’m freezing out here!” Cosette was reluctant to let go of her cousin, more because that would be relinquishing an extra source of heat than anything else. She hurried inside with Nateel. Ghaith, who had accompanied her from the airship, followed after one of the initiates of the monastery, himself eager to find shelter from the harsh cold which Nateel and her followers seemed to take in such stride.

A large iron fence surrounded the place now, tipped with spikes and gridded together with interesting and mysterious designs. “This fence is new, isn’t it?” Cosette noticed the implement.

“Some of our monks were attacked by robbers one evening, so we thought it best.” Nateel explained, a look of genuine sadness upon her features. “It’s terrible that you can’t escape the wickedness in this world anymore, even in a place as remote as this. We close it at night once everyone is inside, just for safety’s sake.” She noted, as the two of them passed through the large metal archway and into the monastery’s warm interior.

Cosette and Nateel walked alone through candle-lit hallways of the stone monastery, the sounds of solemn chanting and the ringing of bells being the only sounds to penetrate the eerie silence of the place. Cosette wondered how exactly anyone could live in such conditions, but then again, she shared her home with vampires and demons–who was she to judge?

“So, what’s the big event? Like always, you’re keeping secrets until the last minute.” Cosette shook her head, marveling at her cousin’s enthusiasm.

“Well, are you sure you’re ready to hear? Actually, I wanted to say so in front of everyone.” Nateel was leading her towards the main hall of the monastery, a place where they could sit in the relative comfort provided by a large hearth and cushioned chairs.

“Everyone?” Cosette asked.

“Yes, I invited the whole extended family, and Archeme too.” Nateel smiled. Her dark eyes squinting shut in excitement.

Cosette stopped in her tracks. “So… Etlinde and Lydia are here too?”

“Of course. Why?” Nateel showed a concerned look when she read the worry on Cosette’s features.

“Well, we haven’t been getting along too well…” Cosette tried to explain the numerous attempts on her life by both of her distant cousins.

“I see.” Nateel had a matter-of-fact tone to her voice. “Well, I’ll just have to make sure everyone plays nice then. I’m sure once we talk things out, we’ll all be friends again.” She nodded, convincing herself instantly.

Continuing to the end of the hall, Nateel pushed open a large door and stepped inside with Cosette. From the fireside across the room, Lydia, Etlinde, and Archeme’s chatting voices hushed, and their faces changed to display vastly different reactions.

“You made it!” Archeme’s face was all cheer, beaming from her wheelchair at Cosette’s entry.

“Hello, cousin Cosette.” Etlinde’s expression was as haughty as usual, her medals flashing in the firelight. Lydia sat quietly opposite her, her expression as unreadable as usual beneath a silk veil covering the lower half of her face.

“So, now that we’re all here, I can tell you what the big commotion is!” Nateel was radiant with excitement.

“Yes, do tell.” Etlinde gave a look of cool interest, as Cosette and Nateel approached, Cosette taking the last empty chair by the fire, just beside Archeme.

“Well… are you ready?” She was holding in suspense, and even Lydia couldn’t hide a flash of curiosity in her eyes. “I’m getting married!”

“What!?” Archeme’s eyes got as wide as Cosette had ever seen them, and Etlinde snapped her fingers next to her ears to make sure her hearing wasn’t failing her. Cosette was stunned with disbelief, and Lydia sat back in her chair with a quiet laugh.

“I don’t know what to say…” Cosette shook her head.

“Oh Nateel! I’m so happy for you!” Archeme leaned her head forward, unable to reach out to her ‘big sister’. “Come give me a hug!” Nateel came forward and embraced her warmly.

“But… you’re a nun…” Etlinde put her gloved fingers together in a pensive gesture.

“Nuns are Catholic.” Nateel waved a hand carelessly. “The Elder Ones don’t forbid marriage. In fact, it was their revelation that inspired me to go through with it. You might say my match was made by the gods themselves!” She laughed.

“So where is this lucky groom?” Lydia mused.

“He’s out making preparations, and won’t be back until very late. Its unlikely that you’ll see him until tomorrow’s ceremony.” The woman explained.

“So tell us about him! Is he tall, dark, and mysterious? Rich, powerful, talented?” Archeme was excited. Apparently she had been reading too many pulp novels lately.

“I’m the tall, dark, and mysterious one in the relationship, unfortunately.” Nateel wagged a finger. “And I want you to get to know him without any preconceived notions, so I’m not saying a word.”

“That’s hardly fair.” Cosette sniffed, trying vainly to coax out some more information from her cousin.

“Well, deal with it.” Nateel put her hands on her hips with a smirk. “Now, I have to get ready! We’re fitting the dress tonight–it’s a Chinese style robe–and I have other things to oversee too. I’ll leave you ladies to yourselves. Do be civil!” Nateel laughed, as she left the four of them alone.

There was a short silence in her wake, punctuated only by the crackling of the large fire in the empty room, illuminating the various tapestries and lithographs that decorated the walls.

“Well, I’m happy for her. This is really exciting!” Archeme’s grin was wide. “I can’t stand the suspense!”

“That’s Nateel for you.” Cosette smiled and shook her head. Though somehow, somewhere deep inside, something felt just a bit… wrong. There was something she couldn’t put her finger on that seemed off about the whole situation…

“Isn’t it about time for you to start looking for someone too, Lydia.” Etlinde cocked an eyebrow at her cousin, “most women in your part of the world marry at what, fourteen? You’re a bit slow, eh?”

“I have little faith in men.” Lydia looked into a distant corner of the room, batting her brown eyes once. “They’re all just after my money. It’s disgusting.”

“What, there’s more to you than money?!” Cosette gave a look of false shock. Etlinde and Archeme laughed in spite of themselves.

Lydia gave Cosette an unreadable look.

“But seriously… doesn’t something feel strange here?” Cosette had a thoughtful look upon her features. “I mean, this is rather sudden, isn’t it?”

“It’s highly irregular, but that’s Nateel, is it not?” Etlinde stood. “I’m going to get some rest then, if it’s all the same to you three.”

Lydia stood as well, her purple silks following her like the sheets of some royal ghost. Her step clinked with the sound of jingling coins and jewelry as she exited the room, following Etlinde.

“I think you’re just letting the suspense turn into worry.” Archeme sighed. “Try to relax, and be happy for her.”

“You’re probably right.” Cosette nodded, still failing to convince herself that the suspicions she had were all in her head.

“I’m going to get some sleep as well. It’s really getting late, and I’m sure tomorrow is going to be really exciting!” Archeme radiated another happy smile.

“Alright, do you need help making it to your room?” Cosette began to walk behind the girl’s wheelchair.

“Not really, but sure. Let’s talk for a bit on the way.” Archeme sat back as Cosette pushed her out the doorway and towards her room.

*****

Lying alone on one of the spartan mattresses of the monastery’s guest quarters, Cosette found sleep fleeting. The nagging feeling somewhere inside her was growing, and every little creak of a door or whistle of a breeze through the corridors set her golden eyes wide open and alert once more.

“Worried, are we?” Carmine’s voice echoed in Cosette’s head. “What a perceptive girl you are.”

“You feel it too?” Cosette spoke aloud, wondering if Carmine could hear her regardless.

“It’s natural to be apprehensive when you’re being watched.” Cosette could see Carmine’s face in the mirror across the room. It made speaking to her more natural when there was some image to communicate with.

“By Etlinde, or by Lydia?” Cosette’s eyes darted around the room, which was plain and simple, with only a bed, small desk, her bags, and the mirror.

“By something far more… dark.” Carmine said delicately. “They who watch from outside the realm of mortal sight have their eyes upon you tonight. You should be wary.”

“What do you mean, is there some danger?”

“More than you can imagine… but look, here it is, back from its journey… hungry for the taste of human blood.” Carmine’s features looked sinister. “Don’t go hurting yourself, or we won’t be able to meet like this again. I’d be so lonely–Rozalina never visits me anymore.”

“Mother?” Cosette leaned forward in a moment of surprise, but Carmine’s form had already vanished from the mirror, leaving Cosette to look at herself, still half-covered by the sheets of the bed. Above, there was a terrific sound, like the wrenching and twisting of metal against metal clashing together in a huge crescendo which finally died off into the silent, cold night.

Gripping the sheets with a little fear, Cosette tried to calm herself. “That must be the gates closing.” She drew a deep breath. “Nateel’s betrothed would be back then. That’s all it is.”

However, she couldn’t shake Carmine’s words from her mind. Danger… hungry for human blood… what if Nateel’s gods had asked too much of her, more than even she knew? Cosette’s mind was playing with her. What did she know? A few cryptic words from Carmine, a gut feeling of unease, and the crashing of what was obviously a metal gate upstairs… not a single substantial cause for worry.

…but still.

Cosette jumped at a knocking on her door. “Who’s there!?” She readied a spell, crackling red energy forming around her right hand.

“I’m unarmed.” Etlinde’s voice called from outside the door. “I wanted to speak to you.” The spell in Cosette’s hands faded after a moment of consideration.

The little empress stepped out of bed and into a pair of soft slippers, crossing the room to unlatch her door. Etlinde stood outside, wearing a lacy nightgown, her light blond hair falling loosely below her shoulders. She was actually a rather pretty girl, without all of her weapons and military brass on. Confirming that her cousin was indeed unarmed, Cosette pulled the door the rest of the way open, and Etlinde stepped inside.

“Rather chilly up here, isn’t it?” Even when trying to be conversational, the Führer’s voice was measured and slightly commanding.

“What did you want?” Cosette sat back on the bed, as Etlinde took the desk chair.

“I’m here to talk to you about Lydia.” Etlinde explained.

“You seem to get along with her rather well.” Cosette shrugged, obvious contempt creeping into her voice. “What does it concern me, except that you both want me dead?”

“Lydia pays the bills, but that doesn’t mean we see eye to eye. She commissioned us for a weapon recently–”

“Remiliss?” Cosette interjected. That was the name that Lydia’s living weapon had used to describe herself.

“You know about it?” Etlinde had a mild surprise in her voice.

“I fought it.”

“I’m impressed.” The Führer crossed her arms and showed a small smile. “It reminds me why I’m honored to have you as a rival.” Etlinde continued. “We created Remiliss from an item Lydia gave us–some sort of stone that eventually became the heart of the weapon. It’s a supercatalyst–it multiplies the chemicals that make up the weapon’s body.” Cosette’s look was blank. “It generates something from nothing.” She explained at last.

“So?” Cosette, who was not an avid student of the physical sciences, was not too impressed.

“Have you ever wondered where Lydia’s powers come from?” Etlinde asked. There was a change in her tone. “It’s likely that she possesses more such stones–one of which lets her transform herself and other things into gold.”

“And you want that stone.” Cosette sat back. “So, you want me to help you kill Lydia. Amazing.” The girl shook her head, “you’ll betray anyone, won’t you?”

“In the interest of my men and our ideals, I’ll do whatever I deem best. What sort of leader would I be otherwise?” Etlinde cocked her head to the side. “You should be more aware of the people counting on you too. The relationships between powers and nations aren’t as crude as those between two individuals.”

As Cosette was about to reply, another sound came from outside. This one, however, was far less explainable than the gate-closing sound Cosette had caught before. It was like a squelching, slopping echo, coming from one end of the hall and slowly moving down towards their door. As Etlinde and Cosette both heard it, they both froze and trained their ears to it. Aside from the continuous chanting and faint ringing of bells, the silence was punctuated only by the steady slurp-slop of whatever thing was making the noise, approaching steadily at their door.

As the thing passed by their closed, unbolted door, the noise of its motion stopped. Both cousins looked at the door in preparation, Etlinde putting her hand on the chair, ready to use it as a club, while Cosette’s fingertips glowed faintly with arcane energy.

After a few seconds of steady waiting, the sound moved on. Cosette heard a faint voice seem to come from the direction it slithered off to. “Nateel, my love, I can wait no longer… I long for our souls to become as one…” It was a very human voice, at least from the faint whisper Cosette could catch. “Let us commence the ceremony now.”

“But, my cousins?” Nateel’s voice was also faint, wavering softly, as though she was somehow unsure.

“They sleep soundly, do not trouble them… we can simply inform them of the happy union when they awake.”

The voices trailed off. Etlinde looked to Cosette and found her blue gaze returned by the empress’ golden one. “Perhaps you were right about something being… amiss.” Etlinde’s wide eyes returned to their normal size as she relaxed her posture once more.

“Something’s definitely not right here.” Cosette gulped. “We need to help Nateel.” Cosette remembered Knale’s words earlier on, she can enter this world because she has a human soul… but that would be disastrous in anyone else’s hands… this thing, whatever it is… Nateel’s gods must want to collect her soul for themselves! And if they did…

Etlinde could read the expression on her cousin’s face well enough to realize that the danger was serious. “What is it?”

“If this marriage is carried out, it will be the end of all of us. Nateel’s gods must be trying to get a hold on her soul!” Cosette looked down at the pendant, Solomon’s Key, hanging around her neck. Askimilar… come to me! She silently tried to summon Hylie, but she could feel no connection to her servant in this place.

“Nateel’s gods are real? I thought it was just a cult…” Etlinde put her hand back on the chair, glancing around.

“They’re very real, and very dangerous.” Cosette’s look was becoming more worried. “We’re already inside…” she clenched a fist in realization. “We’ve been dragged into a dream world from the moment the gate closed. These… these beings can only live outside of the world. But, if they get to Nateel, they could use her to break out of this realm and come into the real world–as living gods of darkness.”

“Right.” Etlinde, not too knowledgeable on such matters herself, decided to trust Cosette’s expertise. “My weapons are in my room, I’ll go there, while you wake the others.” Etlinde Marjoli Nimoy stood, heading to the door.

“Wait, don’t separate from me.” Cosette grabbed her shoulder. “If we lose sight of one another, the dream might split apart, and we’ll never find each other again.”

Etlinde nodded, and led Cosette along with her. The two cousins scurried down the hall, passing by Archeme’s room. The door was ajar, and the place empty, confirming Cosette’s fears and heightening Etlinde’s worry. Searching Lydia’s room gave similar results–empty, yet all the woman’s things were in place. Was she wandering alone as well, or already lost to this closed, endless dream world?

The two made it to Etlinde’s room at last, where the young Führer clad herself in a heavier, kevlar undergarment, girding her two pistols and her saber.

“We need to get to the basement.” Cosette thought quickly. “Nateel showed me a device there once, something that bridged the gap between our world and the dreamspace these creatures inhabit.”

“So we need to destroy it.” Etlinde stated, searching through some other bags.

“I would think.” Cosette caught a bundle Etlinde tossed her.

“That’s a fencing coat. Put it on.” The girl obeyed. The thick coat was heavy and uncomfortable, but not enough to inhibit movement. Cosette could feel that it was thick enough to resist sword slashes, and maybe even bullets. She had reservations about how much use it would be against creatures which could twist the very stuff of reality to their ends.

Exiting the room, the two cousins proceeded downwards and onwards through the monastery, until Cosette found the switch to the secret passage Nateel had showed her before. Cautiously, guided by a light Cosette conjured, the two headed down the winding steps, spiraling downward into the abyss below.

There was a light and noise and motion in the chamber at the foot of the stairs. Below them, Cosette and Etlinde could see Nateel, wearing a beautiful robe, that seemed to shine with its own faint blue light. She looked up, and noticed the two of them standing above.

“Cosette? Etlinde?” Nateel’s gray eyes seemed to stand out against the shadows on the stone floor below. She was standing with a large collection of monks, all chanting, before the large doors which led to the chamber where her “monolith” was kept.

“Nateel, stop!” Cosette yelled. The doors were begining to creak open, and a darkness that fought back the light seemed to reach out its tendrils along the floor.

Etlinde jumped down the last two stories of stairs, and landed behind Nateel with inhuman acrobatic grace. Brandishing her saber to clear a perimeter around herself, she looked to Nateel. “You’re putting yourself and all of us in danger! Tell them to stop!” She glared into her cousin’s gray eyes.

“They?” Nateel had a confused look in her eyes. Etlinde was not looking at her anymore, and Nateel followed the Führer’s gaze as she turned around. Beyond, there was a gaping darkness emanating from the doorway, and a hundred eyes of all shapes and sizes, watching sinisterly in the darkness. That same slurping sound radiated from the darkness, like gnashing teeth and tongues, thirsty for Nateel’s soul. “Oh, so they’re not hiding behind the shadows anymore… they’ve become that bold.”

“It’s my fault.” She dropped her eyes. “I’ve resolved to do this, Etlinde, Cosette.” She looked up, a proud yet reluctant smile crossing her features. “I’ll give my soul to avert the destruction of this world. It’s the only way.”

“What?” Etlinde dropped the tip of her saber, confused.

“Cosette… I looked too far and too deep for the truth to life’s mysteries and meanings. What I let loose, prying for answers in the darkness… it’s my responsibility to seal up again.” She swallowed, and her eyes seemed wet. “I… I don’t do this lightly, you know…”

“No!” Cosette finally reached the bottom of the stairs. “They’ve lied to you, Nateel! You don’t have to do this! You’re being deceived!”She tried to press forward, but the cloaked figures around the foot of the stairs repelled her. “Agh! Get off of me!” There was a red flash, and then another, and another. Streaks of crimson energy sheared apart the monks holding her. As they fell to the floor in pieces, the bodies of the initiates turned to ash, then skittered away into the shadows. They too were a part of this living nightmare.

Etlinde didn’t need any more signal than that. She began cutting down the crowd that separated her from Nateel with uncanny precision, saber flashing and pistol cracking in the shadows of the room. Fighting physically in time to match Cosette’s battle-magic, the two approached Nateel, repelled by a throng of shadow born horrors.

Nateel turned her back on both of them, and began walking toward the open, rune-covered door, the living darkness welcoming her with a myriad of hungry smiles.

“Nateel!” Cosette screamed, the arcane power around her congealing into a burst that disintegrated the monks repelling her into dust. She was racing forward now, reaching for her cousin,who was only a few steps from the door. Etlinde had cut herself a path to the door as well, and was now in a dead sprint opposite Cosette.

“Stop, you fool!” Etlinde lunged forward. Cosette made a grab.

Both just missed a handful of Nateel’s hair as the last strands of it vanished into the darkness. Without a second thought, Cosette plunged her gloved left hand into the darkness, and it closed upon something. She could feel teeth gnawing and gnashing at the corrupted flesh of her hand, but she held fast. “Help me!” She looked to Etlinde, who was quick to assist, and grabbed Cosette’s shoulders with one hand, using her free hand to wield her other revolver at the remaining monks.

Struggling, the two of them pulled. Cosette felt an incredible pain her hand. For a moment, she was thankful for Carmine’s curse–no natural limb would have withstood the slicing darkness within the room. “Now!” Etlinde shouted, firing her last shot. She spun around and put both hands around Cosette’s waist, pulling both of them to the ground.

With a long, high scream from somewhere beyond the door, Nateel was forcibly withdrawn from the darkness and deposited in a heap on top of Cosette and Etlinde. The claws on Cosette’s left hand had left five deep punctures in the woman’s shoulder, and she was crying and yelling, eyes wide.

The screaming from beyond the door continued, louder and higher, until it was deafening. The cloaked figures made up of shadow which had resisted Cosette and Etlinde burst apart, becoming one with the darkness once more, as a suction began to emanate from the door, pulling every mote of living darkness from the room.

“Hold on to her!” Etlinde yelled over the roaring wind and deafening scream, as Nateel thrashed against the both of them. Each locking an arm around their cousin, Cosette and Etlinde grasped the stones of the floor, desperate to hold against the rushing pull of the darkness.

Looking back into the door, millions of disembodied, angry eyes glared at them from beyond the darkness, as the giant gray doors began to slam shut. Disoriented, it was uncertain whether Nateel fought against her cousins or the spinning darkness that grasped at them as it passed by, cascading back into the door.

With a final, wrenching pull, the darkness retreated beyond its gate, and the thing slammed shut with a terrible crunching sound.

Then, there was only the sound of Nateel’s weeping to fill the chamber.

“Nateel…” Cosette disentangled herself from the woman, who now sat sobbing on the stone floor. Behind the three of them, the gray door seemed to fade slowly, disappearing into nothing at last.

“I… I wanted to say good… goodbye to all of you…” Nateel couldn’t look her cousins in the eyes. “I… I started to see them in the dark… watching me out of the corners of my eyes… everywhere, all the time… they were speaking to me. Telling me that I had let them loose… then they began to use me…” Nateel’s watery gray eyes sobbed to look at Cosette’s face. “They tried to attack you in Romania…” she turned to Etlinde, “and you would have been taken too, if it weren’t for Kartika’s intervention… they told me that they had the truths of the universe… that they would teach me things… but… but I…”

Cosette embraced Nateel. “It’s alright. I think they’re gone now. You don’t have to worry anymore.”

Etlinde helped the two of them stand. With a look of tired satisfaction, she looked at Cosette, and the young empress nodded back.

“Thank you both… for saving me.” Nateel looked quite weary, her black hair tossed wildly about, her eyes bloodshot, and her face dripping with cold sweat. Thankfully, there was still plenty of time for rest before morning.

Cosette slept an exhausted, dreamless sleep that night.

*****

“So the wedding is off?” Archeme had a disappointed look.

“I got cold feet, I guess. He told me that he understood though.” Nateel shrugged.

“And he didn’t stay around to meet us?” Lydia’s arms were crossed. “Maybe you did the best thing. He was probably just looking for power within this new religion anyway.” The four cousins stood together just outside the gates of Nateel’s monastery, with Archeme sitting among them in her wheeled chair. The stone building was oddly silent today, with neither chanting nor the sounds of bells.

“Actually, I think I’m going to give up the religious life.” Nateel shook her head. “I’ve given it thought for awhile now… gods or no, I can’t have my life dictated to me by some mysterious voice from beyond, can I?”

Cosette and Etlinde were strangely silent this morning, but at this they each gave a nod.

“I’ve got a new resolution. I’m going to travel the world, in search of real truth–not some grand, unattainable mystery.” She looked out over the snowy mountains and towards the climbing sunrise.

“A good resolution, cousin Nateel.” Etlinde smiled a reserved smile.

As the four guests prepared to leave, Nateel took Etlinde and Cosette aside, putting an arm over each of their shoulders. “Thank you both so much… I would be lost now without what you did for me, in spite of my resistance.” The light in her eyes was alive and joyful, with so much anticipation of the adventures and wonders ahead.

The three cousins shared a last embrace, as Nateel waved them all off warmly. As Ghaith’s airship disappeared off into the horizon, the ascetic was left alone once more.

“Thank you… for drawing us out of darkness and into this world. It would not have been possible on our own…” Nateel spoke with a voice like a thousand small creatures chorusing in unison. The monastery behind her began to fade, collapsing itself down and fusing back into the shadow at Nateel’s feet. A legion of eyes and flashing teeth smiled upward from that shadow, which seemed to fight against the light as though alive. “We have waited too long in dreams and darkness… now, we called Legion–the masters of outer darkness–walk the earth once more… now no one can stop us!” Nateel’s eyes turned a pure black, and she threw her head back with a laugh–a long, chorusing laugh of a thousand sinister beings, each one a living evil unfathomable to the mind of man.

Glad you liked the ending. Nateel is a quite an actress, hm? You never know whats the truth and what's a lie...

I never even noticed that Cosette's voice changed, but you're right, she talks in a much more relaxed tone, not only with Nateel, but also when Archeme is around (Archeme actually talks like that too, which is a bit more justification in the second case). The example you gave is a bit strong, I may go back to edit that later.

So, a fan of Ghaith too? Cosette's relationship options aren't going to be black and white... I'm still just setting up something that will become a major theme later on in the story.

That's the difference between a novel written from front to back, and one written from the outside in. Though, a life is a long time--it's not impossible for both of them to have other loves and relationships in the course of the story.

I decided not to worry about italicizing everything this time. You'll just have to infer where the italics are supposed to be XD

Do you have any idea how hard it is to write with a Voodoo accent? XP

=====================================================
Chapter Twenty-One: Black and White

My dearest daughter,

It has been too long since we have seen one another. Yet still, the time is not right for our grand reunion. Be assured that I am still watching you from afar, and that I am so proud of the woman you are becoming. Remember to treat your servants with respect, and to keep the affairs of the empire in order.

I know you must have worried so much about me, and I cannot begin to ask for forgiveness in leaving you behind as I embarked on this journey. Everything I do, I do with you and your sister's best interests in my heart. The end of the second world war took a great toll upon me, and taught me much about the world. I am not the person I was before that time--I'm sure you remember my final days in the villa.Before we meet, you must learn more about the nature of the world, and of your own power.

On the isle of Haiti, far to the south, there is a learned man who goes by the title of 'Papa Ghede'. In his long life, he has seen many generations of truth in the world. If you go to him, you will learn a great deal. In Haiti, you will meet for the first time Midland, your brother by adoption. He will guide you through that place. When the time is right, I will appear to you once more.

My heart is always with you,

- Rozalina

Cosette took another deep breath as she read through the letter. It had been penned by her mother's own hand, there was no doubt. Cosette had read through journals and books in that same delicate writing, it had a special sort of meaning to her.

"Your highness, may I join you?" Arrant Young entered the open door of her study. She had asked the gentleman to tutor her in the American magical traditions several times a week.

"Yes, come in." Cosette took a breath from her pipe, which she held loosely in the hand opposite the letter. With the doors and windows open, the thick smell of Ritherwhyte was not so oppressive as usual. Despite the cool, Cosette had determined to get the stale air out of her villa, and had commanded the house to open every window and shutter, to both Malgrave and Narshe's protest.

"Is there something on your mind?" Arrant noted the tense expression on her features, even though smoking usually put her in a calm mood.

"What do you know of the Haitian Mystical Tradition?" Cosette put down the letter, and opened a leather-bound notebook which served as her own journal. Taking a pen in hand, she prepared to write.

"May I?" Arrant motioned to a seat, and receiving a nod from Cosette, sat down, pulling out a cigarette of his own and lighting it. He puffed out a small cloud of gray smoke, catching in the rays of afternoon light streaming in through the study window. "Haiti is an island in the Caribbean, a bit south of Florida. They have a magical tradition known as Vodou. It is, like most Western traditions, a service to the spirits, though a bit more arcane in its practice than many." Arrant explained, as though reciting a passage from a book--most likely one of his own. "It began as an African mystical tradition, but was merged with the native islanders' practices and then coated over with the veneer of Roman Catholicism imposed by the French."

"I was thinking of visiting the place." Cosette explained. "What kind of trip would it be?"

"It would take roughly two days to reach the coast of Florida by train, and another two of sailing to reach the island. We would need a guide, of course... do you or any of your servants speak French?"

"Oui!" Narshe entered, carrying a tea tray. She set two floral patterned cups and saucers onto the study's coffee table and filled them with Cosette's customary Ziphlin tea. "Are we going on a trip?"

"I have a guide arranged already." Cosette said, causing Narshe to shrug her shoulders. "I'm more concerned with bringing along some protection. Would you summon Hylie for me?"

"As you wish, mistress." The vampire replied, "Malgrave and I have plans for the weekend anyways." She continued on, licking her lips. "There's a fashion show downtown."

"Fashion show?" Cosette had never known Narshe to take an interest in such things. Malgrave, maybe...

"It's kind of like a gourmet restaurant." She tapped the side of her face and flashed a fanged smile. "They show you the whole menu, then you pick which one you want and--"

"Er-Hm" Arrant cleared his throat, "Do you mind if we start today's lessons, highness?"

"Yes, that sounds good." Cosette nodded, as Narshe left the room, her mind fixed on 'food'.

*******

The trip to Haiti was uneventful at best, and downright boring at worst. Hylie spent the trip training Gruphul, her diminutive Mourner minion, while Arrant was busily scribbling in his notebooks. Cosette had brought a few spellbooks with her, and passed the trip alternating between her studies and browsing catalogs of expensive chairs. A few times, Arrant came in to cross-reference things he read with her opinions, until finally, she stopped him and asked a question.

"Mr. Young, I have a request for you." Cosette did not look up from her reading until she had finished asking the whole question.

"Of course." Arrant stopped putting on his hat and turned around. "What could I do for you?"

"I have a book I want written." Cosette's gold eyes seemed deeply thoughtful. "It will be a textbook of magic for the new empire."

"A textbook?" The man sat back down, taking his notebook and pen back out of one pocket and flipping open to the first blank page he could find. Smoothing out his vest and balancing the book on the knee of his brown slacks, he looked at the girl for a prompt. "Tell me what you had in mind."

"Well," She began, "I want to outline what sorts of magics are to be used in the new Renaissance Empire, how they are to performed, and which practices are to be avoided."

"I see, excellent premise, excellent indeed." Arrant scribbled a few notes. "So you're going to redefine 'white' and 'black' magic? It sounds like an undertaking, worthy of the Dark Empress. And the definitions we have are so vague--certainly something that needs to be done."

"Hm... I suppose that is a good way of terming it. I hadn't thought of it like that, but we do still see white and black magic the way the Church defined them, don't we?"

"So, is there some 'standard' or 'general rule' that defines the new white magic from black? How about a set of fundamental principles?" The man looked at her again, his wiry features waiting expectantly.

Cosette thought hard. She realized that she wasn't sure exactly what sort of things it was that separated 'good' and 'bad' magical practice. Don't be sloppy? Don't use blood? Never agree to a pact without knowledge of the cost? She had a number of important principles, and she felt that deep down inside she understood what the difference between good and bad magic was. But somehow, she just wasn't sure how to put the thing into words.

"That's a difficult question, Mr. Young." Cosette's features seemed crossed in deep contemplation. "Perhaps I could spend some time thinking about it?"

"But of course, of course." Arrant smiled warmly, putting his notepad away. "Such monumental works are certainly not conceived and born in a single day. May I take leave?"

"Yes. Thank you." Cosette nodded, feeling exited about the academic endeavor she and Arrant were undertaking.

"Oh, by the way, majesty," Arrant took his hat down from the hanger at the compartment's sliding door and placed it on his head. "That dress looks stunning on you. You're quite the picture of royalty."

Cosette couldn't help a small blush and an embarrassed smile in spite of herself. "You're far too flattering."

"If only my words were good enough for your highness." He bowed and left her.

*****

In Haiti...

"Ooohh..." Cosette stepped unsteadily onto the pier, Arrant supporting her heavily on one side and Hylie walked ahead, carrying a large stack of luggage.

"Poor thing..." Hylie laughed roughly, as Cosette stumbled forward, looking sick enough to vomit again. "Should I carry you too?"

"Oh my! Breathe deeply. In. Out." The author was trying to coach the young empress as she gradually regained her footing.

After a few minutes, she was feeling right again, but the seafaring experience had certainly not left a good impression on her.

"So, where's our guide, master?" Hylie looked back to Cosette, who was having a pipe to calm herself down.

"Well, the letter implied that he would simply... be here?" Cosette was looking around the crowded port, trying to pick out anyone who was out of the ordinary. Now that she thought about it, it would not be strange for their intended guide not to have any idea of when and where they would be arriving.

Suddenly a hand clasped around her left wrist, causing the girl to jump suddenly. She was held firm in the grip of a young man wearing a metal glove. His body was covered by a poncho with a hood, shadow obscuring his face entirely. As he touched her, she felt a sudden, murderous intent focused upon her.

Hylie dropped their luggage as she heard Cosette gasp in surprise. With a force that sounded like a gunshot, her fist connected with the young man's chest, making a sick crunching sound. To Hylie's surprise, she was the one injured in the attack.

"Agh!" Hylie grabbed her wrist, a mix of anger and confusion. Her crushed knuckles regenerated themselves quickly, and she prepared for another strike.

The youth released Cosette and stepped back, since the sound of the attack was now scattering people. The man threw off his hood and looked level at Hylie. He had calm features, and was apparently younger than Cosette had at first thought from his stature, perhaps only fifteen. Brown hair covered one side of his face completely, showing only his right eye.

"Who--?" Arrant had stepped forward, standing in a triangle of himself, the attacker, and Hylie, shielding Cosette with his own body, a brave yet ineffectual gesture against either of the combatants.

Hylie lunged forward again, and this time she was met with a similar attack from the boy in the poncho. His metal-gloved hand reached around his back, drawing forth a bolt of scarlet-glowing steel. "Marduk, devourer of souls, lend power to my rage." He whispered. Cosette felt a powerful magic in his words--a magic akin to her own.

"Wait!" The little empress yelled. "Don't--"

Hylie slipped under a wide slash from the boy, and thrust her body back up with one hand, spinning her torso to make a kick and the boy's face with one leg. As he ducked under this at the last second, her other foot came around and caught him squarely in the left side of the jaw with an incredible force. "Gah!" Hylie's face showed a grimace as her foot landed dead on its target, which did not yield an inch. The butt of his sword swung around and smashed into the Destroyer's forehead, knocking her to the ground.

In that moment, the sword, Marduk, glowing with its hideous wicked power, seemed to come alive. As it spun above Hylie, blade turning downwards, an eye opened in the steel, and the sword seemed to part into two jowls of grinding teeth, stretching wide as if to consume Hylie.

It was the first time Cosette had seen anything like fear on her servant's features.

"Stop!" Cosette put a hand around Solomon's key, "stand down!" Her command echoed through the air. However, as she held the key, it was not her voice which peeled from her lips, but Knale's. Apparently the power of the key made her orders equivalent to the Strategist's--in every sense.

At the sound of the Overlord's voice, Marduk recoiled in its master's hands, closing back up. Almost of its own power, the sword jerked the boy's arm around and deposited itself into its sheath beneath his mantle.

Both Hylie and her opponent were stunned, looking at one another with uncertainty of what to do next.

"Who are you?" Cosette stepped forward, now confident that she had control over the situation.

"I am Midland." The boy spoke cautiously, still standing ready over Hylie. Neither of them made a move. "I felt an ill intent focused on you. I thought you were in danger. Was I wrong?"

"You felt it too?" Cosette gave a cautious look around. The people in the port had all dispersed, leaving herself, Arrant, Midland, and Hylie alone. She could not sense any other presences nearby. Satisfied of this, she gave Hylie a critical look. "You weren't plotting to kill me, were you?"

"No more than usual, master." Hylie flashed three rows of grinning teeth.

"Well, no harm done." Cosette shrugged. "I can see you defeating Hylie while you wield Marduk--the Dark Emperor's Deadliest Servant--but surviving her blows... I'm curious."

Midland stepped forward and picked up Cosette's left hand again, grasping it in his own. With his right hand, he pulled back the hair obscuring the left half of his face. "Because you and I are the same." The same blight that had spread across Cosette's hand when she had first tapped into Carmine's power stretched up from his neck, and covered half of his face. Where it reached his left eye, only a red glow burned out from the darkness within his skull.

"But... what is this?" Cosette looked down to their two hands, still clasped. She released him, suddenly surprised at how close he was to her.

"Rozalina calls it 'the Corruption'." Midland spoke directly. He had a soft, down-to-earth voice. "Ghede will explain more to you. Come." He motioned to Hylie and Arrant as well as Cosette. "We will be safe in his house, but there is something dangerous at work around you."

*****

Dark skinned servants hurried Cosette, Arrant, Midland, and Hylie into the house of Papa Ghede, which was thick with the smell of smoke and alcohol. Lights were low, and the windows seemed to be blacked out purposely to keep as much sun out of the place as possible. Cosette felt that the house, a large, white-washed mansion secluded on the edge of the port town, was more of a cave than a habitation fit for any human being.

"Amazing... a real Witch Doctor's lair, right here! Who would have thought!?" Arrant was ecstatic, ducking into rooms as they walked through the crowded corridors of the house, and making notes furiously.

"So, you come to see da Baron?" A native in white lace nodded as she spoke, looking Cosette up and down in a way that made the girl rather uncomfortable. The halls they walked down were crowded with cabinets, papers, and debris.

"Baron?" In one room they passed, Cosette saw nothing but taxidermied animals, hanging from hooks on the ceiling, standing on the floor, or mounted on the walls. One was apparently a half-finished project in progress, and had its skins laid out on the table, putrid guts lying in a metal bin to the side of the workbench.

"Papa Ghede, da Baron Samedi." The woman's accent was as think as her three layers of heavy skirts. Pushing through another doorway into a hallway lined floor, walls, and ceiling with red velvet, she continued down until she reached a gilded door with a large crest emblazoned upon it. "E' is a-waitin for you." There were loud voices and laughter behind the door. It sounded like anything but a host waiting on company.

Cosette looked back, and Midland nodded to her. She walked forward to the door, Arrant close at her heels, until the servant's hand caught his shoulder in a firm grip. "An where ye be goin' lad?"

"I thought--" Arrant's eyes were a bit wide as he looked into the servant's dark eyes, heavy makeup, and strangely white teeth.

"Aye, ye be tinkin' far too much." She had a wide grin on her features. "So ye wan' to see da' real vodun do ye? I can feel da' spirits strong wid' ye... Come wid' Elice. She'll show ye... heh heh heh..." The woman grabbed Arrant's ear and, despite his protest, he found himself following her off down one of the corridors.

"Well then." Cosette took a deep breath, then coughed on the thick dust in the air. Unsure of exactly what to say or do in preparation, she cleared her thoughts as best she could before pushing on the door. It was surprisingly light, and pushed open at even her slight touch.

The lights within Ghede's study were bright, and blinded her as she entered. Just as she had stepped fully into the room, the door slammed shut, causing her to jump in surprise. All of the voices she had heard before fell suddenly silent.

"Ahm sorry, girl, but de light's not good for dis' 'od 'ouse." She heard a deep, smooth voice before she saw its source. The study was filled not with books and desks, but a circle of chairs and couches. Five of the seven chairs were occupied by five men, each one frozen in some action--drinking from a glass, taking a puff of smoke from a cigar, looking thoughtfully at a hand of cards. They seemed to be engaged in some sort of card game. Cosette, not familiar with such things, couldn't be sure what they were playing, but it seemed to involve alot of alcohol and smoke, both of which the room reeked.

The only other animated figure in the room was Ghede himself. He was a big man in a black coat and slacks, dressed as though he were off to a funeral. At his side sat a black cane and top hat, and in his hand he had a glass of red alcohol, too thick for wine, but too dark for whiskey. He looked at Cosette through a monocle, before taking a drink and making a motion with one hand for her to take the last empty seat in the room beside him.

"Befor' ye sit down, tell me what cards Ern'st be holdin'." He pointed to one of the frozen figures across from him, and Cosette read off his hand to the Baron.

"So, t'was a bluff! Ga ha ha ha..." He had a hearty, booming laugh. "I put 'dem to sleep as you come in, 'an 'dey rememba' nottin' when 'dey wake." Cosette could see up close that the five men were not men at all, but expert taxidermies of men--merely stuffed, preserved corpses.

"Now den', anyting t' drink?" The man asked.

"If you don't mind--" She sat down on the leather couch. A look around the room showed just about everything to be made of fur, bone, or leather. The card table was stretched with soft fur, as was the carpet. Even the glasses the men were drinking from were conglomerates of bone and glass.

"Ye' fa' too young fe' dis' drink, girl." He cut her off with another laugh. "So, ye' wan' to know 'bout de' Corruption, eh?"

"Yes." Cosette answered. She began working the buckles on the glove that bound up her left forearm.

"Aye've seen 't a'ready, an' 'tis no' much for my appetite." The Baron shook his head. "Befo' I tell ye 'bout de' Corruption 'dough, I must ask ye--do ye kno' de' differen' of White n' Black magic?"

"Of course." Cosette replied without thinking, then remembered back to her conversation with Arrant two days earlier.

"Jus' as I t'oght." He read the uncertainty in her eyes. "An' what is 'magic'?" He made a wide gesture around the room. "Now I learn ye de' truth. Ye see, girl, de' magic is everywhere. It is everything." He spoke more seriously, emphasizing each syllable of everywhere and everything. "It is de' force which move' de whole wide world, from de' risin' sun, to de' change o' de' seasons. A man's life, an' a man's deat'--dese' t'ings are all a part o' magic."

"But people can live and die without magic. They do every day." Cosette was confused. It was difficult for her to hear through the man's Haitian accent.

"Dat's what I'm tellin' ya. Dey don'. Dat's jus' the magic o' de world. Ya see, dere's two kinds o' magic--de kind de world make, and de' kind de man make." He took a sip of his drink. "An dat's also de line between White an' Black magic. De' White be the magic 'dat keep de' world as 't ot to be. De' Black be de' magic 'dat turn 'de world against itself. It is de' magic 'dat one use when 'is own wish mean more to 'im 'dan the consequence 'dereof."

Cosette was stunned for a moment as the revelation sank in. This was exactly the truth that she had been trying to find words for earlier--Black magic is magic that disregards all consequence. That was exactly it.

"When a man want to do somet'in that 'e can only do wid' magic, 'den it mean 'dat 'de consequence be too great. An' de magic be Black."

"I understand." Cosette felt the rush of a new kind of wisdom. The world, her lessons, everything made a different kind of sense when weighed against the Baron Samedi's words. Her mind did not have time to consider all the implications of this new line of thought before he continued.

"Good. Now girl, we talk 'bout 'de Corruption." He put down his glass. "Dere be a powa' so fa' removed from 'de White magic o' de world 'dat it destroy anyt'ing it touch. 'Dat powa' be 'de powa' o' god--somet'ing no mortals be meanin' to 'ave."

"De powa' o' go--" Cosette caught herself slipping into Samedi's accent, which provoked a good-natured laugh from the man. "The power of god?"

"'Das' right." The man nodded. "When a man 'olds 'de powa' o' a god in is 'ands, 'is soul be foreva' scarred inta' somet'ing inhuman. 'Dat loss of 'de human nature'--'de Corruption--it take many forms."

"And why is it indestructible?"

"It be no longa' a part o' dis' world." Baron Samedi continued, resting his chin on one hand, and leaning in his chair to better face Cosette. "So 'de White magic--'de normal way o' 'doin t'ings--no longa' affect it."

The girl took a look her hand, still wrapped tightly and bound in its glove. Had she really wielded the power of a god for those few moments? It all seemed so far in the past now, even though it had been only few months ago. In the revelations she had found so far in the Baron's presence, however, she still had not reached the object she had initially come seeking.

"What do you know of my mother?"

"Ye mum be--" The Baron was cut off by a clanging sound from the side of the room. Cosette noticed that it was emanating from an old-fashioned speaking tube which had been built into the wall, and ran up and out of the room. With an annoyed look, he made a beckoning gesture to the metal pipe, and it uncoiled itself from the brackets on the wall like a snake, moving over to his side. "W'at be 'de prob'lem?"

"Boss, 'dey's a memba' o' 'de Church ou'side. She be demandin' an audience."

"Thass no' my problem. Send 'er away." The Baron scowled despite that his servant could not see, as people do when talking on a phone.

"Bu' Boss, 'de go' 'de mili'tary wid' 'dem as well. I do no' t'ink 'dey be takin' no for an answer."

Cosette cleared her min, taking a deep breath. In flickering moments of lucidity, she could picture Merribelle standing outside the gate to Papa Ghede's mansion. While she was accompanied by soldiers, there were also a rabble of farmers and tradesmen, brandishing crude weapons and torches. It was as though the whole of the nearby town must have come to call.

The Baron's features showed him not worried, but affronted at the annoyance of his interview with Cosette being interrupted.

"I know who it is." Cosette cut in, "perhaps I can reason with her."

"Pa'haps..." The man put on his monocle and donned his top hat, cane in hand. "Shall we?" He made a motion to the door, which opened of its own accord.

Midland and Hylie were still waiting for them outside the room, but Arrant was nowhere to be found. Perhaps he was still in the clutches of 'Elice'--for better or for worse.

Several servants were waiting at the front door of the house, looking out of the windows cautiously, unsure of what to do next. Just as Cosette had envisioned, Merribelle was standing in her messianic robes, behind her an angry mob was advancing slowly to the door.

The door to the house pushed open, and Cosette and the Baron stepped outside, along with Midland and Hylie and an array of Ghede's servants, all dressed in attire as fine as their master.

"What be 'de meanin' o' 'dis intrusion upo' ma' property?" The man's voice bellowed. It carried upon the air and the setting sun, and seemed to fill the space around. At the sound of it, the angry mob seemed to freeze, realizing for the first time what sort of force they were challenging.

"So, the dead do walk in Haiti..." Merribelle stepped forward, her knight Martel at her side. She spoke in tongues, letting Cosette hear in her native Romanian, while the Haitians listened in French, or in their own common creole.

"What are you here for, sister?" Cosette crossed her arms.

"I am no sister of yours." Merribelle closed her eyes and looked up. "I am the Messiah, inviolable, infallible. And I shall lead mankind to salvation by slaying the devil!" Her voice rang out, imperious.

As though under a spell, the crowd around her roared, raising their guns and torches and weapons high.

"What are you talking about?"

"I want Rozalina." Merribelle looked squarely at Baron Samedi. "I'm here to find out about the witch, and I will not be leaving empty-handed."

"You won't find anything for you here." Midland had a hand at his blade, and stepped down the first step of the porch, standing before Cosette and looking down at Merribelle and Martel. He took a look at the Paladin. "You're the one we sensed earlier. Isn't it unbecoming of a holy knight to be possessed of such a thirst for violence?"

"The intent to kill you sensed before, it was not against you, or your charge." Martel spoke. He was wearing a long blue coat. His blonde hair was bound behind his head, and a pair of small spectacles perched on his nose. These he took of and folded, placing them in the breast pocket of his coat. "Marduk is the ancient enemy of my own blade. Sacrament!" At his call, the golden sword appeared in a flash, clasped in his gloved hands.

"Shall we settle the score then?" Midland's passive face broke into a wide, wild grin. It was as though he were possessed by the dark power of the sword, becoming something else altogether. "Marduk, lend power to my rage!" The blade leapt from its sheath, bathing the air in a power so thick it seemed to drip from the blade like fresh blood.

Merribelle nodded without a word as the two clashed forward. Midland fought like a beast unbound after long captivity, leaping and thrashing and slashing wildly at his full strength. Martel was not foolish enough to try and parry a blow from such a terrific weapon. The paladin dodged around the wide slashes without too much difficulty, leading his opponent with his blade and slipping away at the last moment, then, in a fatal second, Midland caught his enemy's sword, and smashed it from his hands. With a loud clang, Sacrament spun from Martel's grip, flying through the air and burying its tip in the soft dirt a few yards away.

Midland hefted the Dark Emperor's Deadliest Servant above his head to land the final blow against his now unarmed foe, and it split apart and opened like the jaws of the great, grasping demon it was. Martel saw his opening. "Sacrement!" The paladin leapt forward. In a flash of golden light, the blade was again in his hands. As a bewildered Midland froze in place, Martel dashed beneath his left side and made a deep cut for his heart.

"Gwwwoooorraaaahhh!" It seemed as if both boy and demonic blade screamed at once. Steam leaked from the opened wound, and a smell like brimstone and sulfur reeked as crimson blood leaked forth. The flesh was tougher than Martel had expected, and his strike had not reached Midland's heart. Still, the battle was clearly over, as Midland fell to his knees, still screaming.

"As his holiness first slew the Dark Lord, so history shall repeat itself once more." Martel spun his blade around and turned, ready to make the strike that would sever Midland's head.

"That--" Cosette snapped her fingers, and a bolt of red lightning cascaded through the evening, turning the sand beneath Martel's feet into shards of sizzling glass. "--is enough."

"Rahhhh!!" Midland cried out again, and in a last wave of putrid steam, his wound sealed itself once more. Martel looked back to Merribelle, who was no longer paying attention to the fight, but was instead focused on Cosette. Ashamed, Midland sheathed his blade, pulling his hood down as he backed up, not turning away from Martel as he returned to Cosette's side. Cosette thought she heard a faint growling sound coming from the sheath on his back.

"You'll have to do better to drive me away." Merribelle spread out her arms, walking forward deliberately.

"I'll tell ye one mo' time ta leave my property." The baron bellowed, his black eyes narrowing.

"And suffer the doers of black magic to continue their work?" Merribelle mocked consideration. "I'll purge this den of corruption, and then burn the secret from your souls."

She threw back her arms and looked up to the dusk above her. "And the heavens parted, and the hand of God did pierce the sky..." There was a clash like thunder, and a cheer from the crowd, as a light began to form, like a far off star in space growing steadily larger. "...and a great calamity did forge itself by his mighty power, so as to cleanse the workers of all evil from this world. And among their many sins were numbered idolatry, the working of sorceries, adultery, communions with the dead and the devils, dischords, lies, malice..." As she continued her speech, the light above grew brighter and brighter, forming itself into a white hot glow of rapidly descending destruction. There was no outrunning such a spell. Perhaps only Merribelle herself could survive it, inviolable as she was...

Cosette could see the source of her sister's power--it was right before her. Again, Merribelle showed her naivety, leaving her intentions and methods wide open. She had not brought the mob of Haitians with her to fight, but to draw upon their faith as the power for this spell. The Baron's servants, both living and dead, scrambled toward her, clawing and thrashing, unable to make even a scratch upon the inviolable Messiah. Martel cut down others with little difficulty, his sword flying about almost as if led by a mind of its own. Rather than hinder the efforts of the priestess, the sight of her enemies falling before her only strengthened the faith of her followers, confident that they were to witness a miracle today.

Cosette had to think of something to stop this. She had to cut away their faith.
...inviolable. Cosette remembered the words her sister had spoken. By the Holy blood of God in my veins, I am rendered beyond immortal. "Merribelle! Your magic is as black as mine, imposter!" She tried to master the same tone that her sister used to arouse the masses, while waving behind her back for the Baron Samedi to call off his servants. "You deceive these poor fools with your words, but what is white and black? You've been touched by corruption as well--a power not meant for man scarred your soul--that's why you've become inviolable! You've lost the humanity to be moved by this world!" The sphere of destructive purging continued to race down upon them, with only the slightest flicker in its strength. Cosette was talking in terms that were too complex for these common folk to understand.

Papa Ghede, however, noticed the flicker. He saw what Cosette was trying to do, and his face broke into a smile. "Ma' children, listen to yo' papa Ghede!" His voice boomed out over the crowd, in familiar, endearing Haitian creole. "Fo' more 'dan two hundred yeas, I 'av been a-watchin' over ya', calmin' 'de spirits, 'elpin 'de sick an' de weak! 'De gods o' yo' fatha's, 'dey been a'keepin yo' families, an yo' crops, an yo' health! Why a' ya' turnin' yo back on 'de gods 'o yo' people?! 'Dis 'Messiah' is no' yo' god! It be 'de god o' 'de white man--who took away yo' voice an' yo' name an yo' land, and made yo' ta be slaves! 'Dis 'god' is yo' enemy!" His voice trembled with emotion, as the star above flickered and shrank.

"'De gods o' Vodun made me, Papa Ghede, 'da Baron o' 'de dead, wid' a soft hand to guide yo' little lambs. But 'dey gave to me an' iron fist, to crush 'de god o' de white man, an' free yo' from 'is chains! Be'old ma' children, 'de powa'... o' Papa Ghede!" He raised both of his wide, dark hands to the sky, and Merribelle's star of judgement exploded into a million motes of light and color.

By now the crowds were turned against Merribelle and Martel, chanting the words of the old religions their mothers had taught them. The Messiah stood alone with her knight, facing down the Baron Samedi with a look that could only be described as seething.

Papa Ghede stepped down his porch, cane in hand, and approached Merribelle. Her soft pale skin--perhaps what had cost her a victory, was red with anger. She opened her mouth to speak, but the Baron raised his cane, and cracked it across the side of her face. Cosette was stunned with disbelief, as her sister cried out in pain and fell to the ground, a blue bruise forming on her cheek.

"Now ye' leave me isle o' Haiti, an' take yo' gods wid' ye!" The Baron barked. Martel helped the stunned Merribelle to her feet, and the two of them hurried off down the street, the crowd parting for Martel's blade more than any desire to assist the fallen 'Messiah'.

"How did you...?" Cosette did not understand. Wasn't Merribelle unaffected by the world? What had the Baron done to break the spell of inviolability that surrounded her?

"I be no mortal man, girl." The Baron smiled. "I be Ghede-- de' god o' Death!" With a loud, deep, bellowing laugh, he whipped off his top hat, as the last sliver of the sun settled below the horizon, and everything around seemed to be swallowed up in a great darkness. The mansion, the porch Cosette stood on, the trees about the manor, the servants, everything she had seen twisted and spun and funneled into the baron's black top hat. He seemed to fade in the darkness, but his voice remained strong, until, with a bow, he vanished into the darkness, leaving Cosette, Midland, and Hylie alone with the Haitian commoners, in an empty field.

"I'm saved! It's a miracle!" Arrant's voice was trembling in the night air. He ran up behind Cosette, wrapping his long coat tightly around his body. From his bare ankles and arms, it looked like that must be all he was wearing. "I was so frightened... so very, very frightened." He was breathing heavily, and his body was covered in red marks... he smelled like... blood? "There... there was this terrible blood ritual... and the chanting... and they had a knife... I passed out... I must have been saved just in time." There were tears in his eyes.

"Ghaha." Hylie laughed, "afraid of a few cuts? To break or be broken--that's all I live for." She looked at Midland with an eager eye. Here was an opponent she could enjoy training with at last.

Arrant took a deep breath, regaining composure, and straightening his glasses as best he could. "But, despite that, I did manage to get a rather striking firsthand account of the ritual."

"Before or after fainting?" Hylie snickered.

"It's rather chilly out here, isn't it?" He changed the topic. It certainly must have been for him.

"But... what about mother?" Cosette looked distraught. Despite all that she had learned and seen, she still lacked the vital piece of information for which she had made this great journey.

"Rozalina awaits us, back in your Villa Vivikadvra." Midland explained straightening up and shaking off the shame of his defeat. "Tomorrow, we start the journey home, for a reunion."

Why the hate against poor Merribelle. She's only trying to do what she thinks is right...even if it is to murder her mother and sister...

But yeah, I like how the lines between Merribelle's white magic and Cosette's black magic blur together in this chapter, and will continue to in the coming chapters. And whatever happened to Arrant...

I think the next chapter will actually have Narshe as the main character. I've been meaning to develop her and Hylie both a bit more, so I may take a break from the main story for that.

I like the way this chapter goes, but I feel like there's some sort of logical hole that I can't quite put my finger on... I have a special request for anyone reading (Leav wink )--could you let me know of anything in this chapter that doesn't quite "add up"? Please let me know of anything I failed to explain thoroughly enough, or that conflicted with previous parts of the story (or just common sense). Thanks!

Chapter Twenty-Two: Immortal Coil
With Cosette away in Haiti, along with Hylie and Arrant, Narshe Millicent Ruth Hellicene Landraner III had found herself rather alone in the ancient husk of Villa Vivikadvra. She had exhausted her supply of novels, and she was too full to go out and hunt--the game in this new city was not too interesting to her at any rate...

"It's good to have a little quiet around here..." Narshe nodded to herself. She was sitting in Cosette's study, with her feet propped up on the desk, and a glass of mixed blood and wine in one hand. Remembering something she had bought in the city recently, she reached in her cloak and pulled out a crystal necklace. It was a beautiful piece, and had come at a rather good price. The vendor had no idea what he had been parting with, but a trained eye like Narshe's could pick out all sorts of interesting features in the rock. She fastened it around her neck carefully. The pale stones made a subtle compliment to her deep red eyes.

The real truth about Narshe's fascination with these pieces wasn't their properties or magical uses, however. Deep down inside, she loved to collect pretty things, to be beautiful. That's just like any other woman, right? She always reasoned with herself. She was indeed a beautiful form to behold. Generations of raising the Garidion heiresses had given her a kind of motherly charm, while her alluring body was a work of art in itself. Who would imagine the hollow soul of a vampire--an accursed creature--could rest beneath those soft, inviting eyes?

A hollow soul... Narshe sighed, that's all I am in the end. She was a vampire unlike others of her kind--gifted with the ability to use magic, a force which was beyond the comprehension of the vast majority of her race. While this made her more powerful than the average vampire, she had never been human, and so she had no memories of a time when she could understand the joys of a soul--of loving another. Perhaps she and Cosette were alike in this respect. But Cosette will love one day. The vampire took a sip of her glass, tasting the faint memories and emotions locked beneath the blood, watered down with wine. To have those feelings flood through her own heart, and not just across her tongue... how wonderful would it be?

But these were just vain musings. Narshe gave a hollow laugh to herself, as a reminder that she had spent enough time in the past dwelling on such things that she did not need to consider them now. She uncrossed her legs and pulled them off of Cosette's desk, finishing her drink. It was her day off, after all--why not do a little exploring? There might be more to the city than she had discovered at a first glance.

Putting on her casual wear--consisting of a heavy sweater and long skirt, she took a look in the mirror and concluded that she was decidedly old-fashioned compared to the city girls she had seen on her walks with their bustling furs and fancy hats. But what could she say? Romanian winter wear did not fly as far in a city like Chicago as it would in Ziphlin. A shopping trip was just one order of business for today.

Taking a purse in hand, Narshe began making her walk from the house into the more populous portion of the city. The air was crisp and tranquil, and she passed a few parks and scenic spots on her trip. Despite that it was later in the day, the sun was still only halfway up on its climb towards noon, and the misty air and shadows provided enough cover that the vampire's sensitive skin was not too terribly affected.

The city streets began to blend into the scenic part of town, and after only about thirty minutes of walking, Narshe was surrounded by the city's high-rise towers and flashing lights. Everything seemed alive, from the crowded streets to the bustling shops, to children rushing about and shouting in the small parks that had a place on every other block.

While it may not have been enough to raise a new empire, the Garidion fortune was extensive enough that Narshe, Cosette, and the other residents of Villa Vivikadvra could pursue expensive living with no fear of exhausting their resources. The price of things was a consideration, naturally, but never an obstacle.

After a brief stop at the bookstore Narshe was feeling excited about the new acquisitions to her library. However, rather than rush ahead to shop clothing, she decided that it would be best to relax for a bit in a local coffee shop. It happened that she was passing a place that she had visited and enjoyed before, so she stopped to take a break.

She was only halfway through her first cup of mulling spices, when a familiar, unwelcome presence intruded upon her thoughts. When she looked up from her cup, she jumped to find an uninvited guest sitting at her table. Her first thought was that it was some poor man who had taken an unfortunate interest in her, but when she saw the face across the table, her pity turned to loathing.

"Narshe Landraner, oh how far the mighty do fall..." The man chuckled a bit, and leaned back in his seat. The silence and swiftness with which he had appeared were too precise for any human. Before Narshe was another of her race--a vampire. He had long, blond hair and a red coat, lined with soft fur. His pale features came together into a tight jaw, a longish, roman nose, and sharp, heavily shadowed eyes. Sitting back in the chair opposite Narshe, the man crossed his fingers and gave her a smug look.

"Gath," Narshe's face darkened. "I suppose it was too much to hope that you had died by now."

"Mhm, so angry, marvelous." Gath grinned. His knuckles clicked together, each bearing a different ring of gold or silver. "But hunting our kind is on the out--it looks like we're all going to be living forever, bar some unfortunate circumstance."

"Like the reinstitution of the Empire?" Narshe's red eyes locked on his black ones.

"You know, I took a very deep offense at being hunted by the dogs of the Emperor who called themselves 'noble vampires'. And where are those nobles now that our Lord and Master Enlu has met his oh-so-unfortunate end?"

"I think you know." Narshe's contempt blazed in her eyes. The once proud servants of the Dark Empire and their past glory had crumbled. The noble clan she was supposed to inherit as one of the Dark Emperor's most powerful retainers--dissolved before it could pass into her hands. In those days, vampires had been a problem--terrorizing the human world. Many saw Enlu as a champion of humanity simply for his campaign to eliminate them. Gath was one of these--the ignoble vampires that nobles such as Lord Malgrave had hunted in their day. In fact, Narshe and Gath had first met when the latter had tried to convince her to defect the empire and join a rebellion--an attempt which had failed abysmally.

"I know even more than you think, Landraner." He used her clan name in a derogatory tone. "For I have spent my years perfecting the most ancient art of hunting vampires. Like the noble clans once pushed us to extinction, I hunt the remnants of their lines. I must have killed..." he thought to himself for a moment, "oh...around fifty or sixty of your relatives at this point?"

"They deserted the family anyway." Narshe tried to sound calm.

"Yes, but it was too late at that point." Gath's face darkened further. "You see, I've had a revelation. Vampires like you and I--we are a blight upon this earth. I did not understand what it was that Enlu wanted to do back then, and I opposed him, clinging to survival like the animals you and I are. But I've come to understand what it was that he meant to do.

"When I scavenged the ruins of Domus Noctem et Deim--the Imperial Palace, I came across the journals of the man, and I learned his true plan--to cleanse the world of our race altogether."

"What!?" Narshe gave him a disbelieving look. She found it difficult to believe that the Dark Emperor, who used vampires quite extensively in his own armies, would have any plans to eliminate them.

"That's right. After all of the wild vampires were killed, your kind would slowly be exterminated as well." Gath pointed one ringed finger at Narshe. "Hmhm... well, if we were to follow the course of history, you know where we came from. As Children of the First Age, it is only natural that the others would want us exterminated, if only to secure their power further."

Narshe had heard the term Children of the First Age used before to describe her race. She had never lent much weight to the story, truth or not. The war to control the world had raged since the start of time, one empire replacing another and another, until the present age came to be. The first age--the one that could be called the first empire to exist, was that of vampires. As a natural predator of humanity, vampires established dominance over their food source, and built an impressive culture. The vampire king was the champion of the Wild--just as Tania Maph'tali had served Nidhoggr in this age, another servant in the first age had been granted the dragon's powers.

Then humans had learned to control fire and weapons, a gift from the entity Narshe knew as the Domesday Clock. The beginning of human civilization came when the first, primitive technologies gave humans the chance to fight back against the stronger, more powerful race of vampires.

"So Lord Enlu's extermination of vampires was just a way to ensure that the Wild did not rise to overthrow his Empire. But, he had the right idea." Gath smiled. "Creatures like you and I, that have to kill in order to survive--we're disgusting beings, don't you think? Our race wallows its history in the blood of innocent creatures--creatures not too different from ourselves."

"No. No, I don't think so." Narshe bared her fangs indignantly. "Humans are nothing like us. I really can't believe what I'm hearing. Especially from someone who fought so hard against what you're preaching to me now."

"Narshe... I felt it when Nidhoggr passed--all creatures close to the heart of the earth heard his final roar at the hand of your new Empress." The man's own fangs were bared, and his cool countenance was clearly rattled. "But before even that fateful moment, it was clear to me. The age of the natural world is over. The hunters can no longer thrive when their prey wields such weapons as machine and magic against them. That is why I've made a vow to destroy our race--for its own sake."

Narshe stood, unsure of what to do. On one hand, there was a man before her whom she hated, and who stood against all that she believed in, from her family to her allegiance to her morals--odd as they were. On the other hand, she understood him completely. Her eternal life was as empty as it was endless, but as a creature bound by nature and instinct, her life would never end by her own hand, and at this point, with no direct threat to her race, it was unlikely to end by any hand.

"So you're here to kill me?" Narshe's survival instincts were rising. She wouldn't give up on her life without a fight. She could feel the magic in her blood rising to her fingertips, ready to strike at a second's notice.

"Here? No." Gath looked around the coffee shop, and motioned Narshe to sit back down. She was making quite a scene. "I had more of a proposition for you." Narshe sat down cautiously. "Like you, the years wear upon me. You've lived what, seven centuries? You can't imagine the burdens of two millenia upon a mind. I too have learned to pass the time in different ways. If I were to come upon you like this, and slaughter you where you sit, it would probably be a rather... trivial matter." Gath looked disinterestedly at one of his rings. "Instead, it's my custom to propose a duel with my victims."

"A duel?" Narshe was skeptical. She thought about the proposition. Like any vampire, forced to pass the time of the ages, Gath was lokoing for an opportunity to get excited and involved in some event. It wasn't good enough to simply do something--it had to be made a production, a grand project--something worth remembering. This duel to him was the same as Narshe's various hobbies--they were just a way to pass the endless time.

"Perhaps I used the wrong sort of wording." The vampire tossed back his hair and sat forward. "It is no matter of acceptance. I proposed the duel so that you could choose a time and a place. I want the thrill of a real battle, a simple assassination isn't enough for me."

Narshe's brow furrowed.

*****

"You met who?" Malgrave nursed a chemical burn on one hand, which Narshe had startled him into. "And have I not spoken to you about interrupting my experiments?" Various chemicals boiled and stewed in Malgrave's makeshift laboratory in one of the villa dungeons. The place had a decidedly apothecary look to it, with shelves of tiny drawers lining the wall, and a polished floor. Malgrave himself was wearing a long sleeved, lacy white shirt, knee-length slacks, and a pair of safety glasses.

"I'm sorry." Narshe was still shaken from her conversation earlier, and her disheveled hair and tense expression belied deeper thoughts than an apology to Hulbrenth. "But I need help." She began to explain what Gath had told her earlier.

"Hmph..." Malgrave thought to himself for a moment, then turned back to his work. "Then don't fight. Just stay here. Villa Vivikadvra is, as you know, a magical fortress. No outsider, especially a vampire with no magic at his command, has any hope of breaching it. When Cosette returns, she can send her Destroyer to slay him for you."

"We had an agreement to duel, though." Narshe looked worried. "I thought you would be the first to talk of honor."

Malgrave sighed and turned back to her, taking off his protective glasses and setting them aside. "Lady Landraner, you were challenged without the option of a decline--that does not constitute a duel. And furthermore, no honorable knight would challenge a woman to a duel. Gath is as much a fool now as he was when he failed to overthrow the Dark Emperor. Now that he's let you go, think straight--think of self-preservation."

"But... this vampire has been systematically killing off our clan... or at least, those who were a part of our clan." Narsh's eyes were alight with contempt. "Shouldn't it faze you that your old comrades-in-arms were murdered?"

"Narshe, we are not humans. Constructs like family and vengeance... they need not apply to us. The pain of this accursed, immortal life... I would consider my fellows happier than me, having found their eternal rest."

"But you're still alive."

"Yes. Curious, isn't it?" Malgrave inspected some of his sterile instruments on the makeshift lab table. "Perhaps I'm afraid of death, or my will to live is still too strong... It is said that vampires cannot kill themselves, and I believe it quite true. Maybe it is that iron will to live that makes us ageless, rather than any physiological phenomenon."

Narshe turned to leave. She had not come for a lesson.

"Just like that? So I suppose you'll still be fighting?" Malgrave hissed.

"Yes."

"You're a fool." The man smiled wryly, "but, you have an advantage over Gath, since you can use magic --and since he's even more foolish than you. I imagine you will make quick work of him in the duel. Shall I come to watch?"

"Do whatever you like." Narshe shook her head and climbed the stairs toward her room to prepare.

*****

Gath was waiting for Narshe a mile from Villa Vivikadvra, as the sun began to set. Malgrave behind her, she had brought her best to the challenge. Beneath her cloak were strung an array of crystals, each one charged with a different spell. She had shunned her casual uniform for some enchanted light armor--something her mother had worn in a battle ages and ages ago, but was resistant enough to time to still be useful. It might turn away human weapons, but against the strength of a vampire, Narshe had serious doubts as to its efficacy.

"Just like your masters, you rely on your weapons and your armor and your spells." Gath sneered. "You know, you represent something to me, Narshe. That's why I tracked you here and challenged you. You represent servitude--the bondage we endured under humans. We--the naturally superior race, were meant to be masters of humanity. But your kind bent a knee to their own prey."

Malgrave sat down upon a park bench, watching disinterestedly the dialog between Gath and Narshe.

"If anyone can speak to me of betraying my race, I suppose it would have to be you, wouldn't it?" Narshe stood rigid, pushing her glasses back up her nose as she spoke to Gath. Her opponent took a stance of preparation for battle, drawing a set of four daggers from under his coat. He wielded two in each hand. "You've given up on your people, but I have hope. When the Renaissance Empire rises again, we will have the glory we knew back again." Narshe's eyes met him. "Stand down, and join us. Find your glory in the next age."

"Heh... how tempting." Gath's knives flashed in the setting sun. Each one was made of a different metal, but all looked equally unhealthy from Narshe's point of view. "But what's the point? You'll still never be the one in charge. Glory or no, there's no meaning to serving anyone. We are beasts, Children of the First age! Let us live and die by our own hands!" He rushed forward in an attack.

Narshe whipped from her cloak a handful of slender crystals, tossing them to the ground at her feet. In a rush, several columns of ice flashed up from the earth, each spiked with a glistening blade. Gath's body dissolved into a mist, passing harmlessly through Narshe's attack, and reforming before her. She cast a shield just in time, deflecting one of her attacker's knives thrown at short range. Gath attacked again, and Narshe dodged to the side as she chanted a short spell. The ice behind Gath exploded into a cloud of scalding steam, sending scalding water and tiny chunks of icy shrapnel into his back.

The vampire merely grunted in pain, the primal fury of battle erasing any care of his own safety. He lunged again at Narshe, and managed to bat away a hand which clasped about a few more of her prepared spells. Narshe cried out in pain as his knives tore the flesh of her hand, but her cry was muffled as Gath's empty hand clutched around her throat and threw her to the ground, pinning her down with both knees as he fell upon her. Raising his last knife above his head, the vampire hunter readied a strike that would pierce Narshe's accursed heart, ending the vampire's life.

As she looked up at the knife in fear, Narshe felt something she had never experienced before. It was a feeling of relief, of rest, and of acceptance. Seven centuries... I've been all alone, without the love or hope that humans can experience... somehow, she was not saddened or afraid of the end that was coming to her.

BLAM! There was a pause. BLAM! BLAM! BLAM! Narshe felt Gath's weight forcibly pulled off of her, and she was momentarily stunned. Malgrave was standing with his heavy pistol drawn. The force of the gun was apparently enough to knock the heavy Gath off of his feet, and he gasped from a position on the ground, lying beside Narshe.

The vampire hunter tried to get back up, but Malgrave stepped over Narshe and landed a sharp, steel-toed kick in his side that disallowed any such notion.

"That's... cheating..." Gath rasped.

"By some standard, I'm sure it is." Malgrave stepped on one of Gath's hands which was reaching for his last knife. Leaning his old-fashioned musketeer boots back, the alchemist buried a spur deep into the hand, with a crunch of bone. "But, I digress. You said that we were animals, no? What sort of animal regards rules and customs? Your duel was an unsound one anyway."

Narshe was still stunned, recovering from the rush of a near-death experience.

"You see, Narshe has people who rely on her. Responsibilities, if you will. She still has a reason to live, and a hope for the future. You... you're the disgusting animal." Malgrave kicked him again, showing only cold cruelty, not anger. "You've betrayed your people, given up everything... you died long ago, when you lost your reason for living."

"I... I made my own... purpose." Gath choked. His wounds were slowly closing, but the metals in Malgrave's bullets... they were dissolving into his blood, keeping him weak. These were bullets made for the slaying of vampires. Apparently, his fate had been sealed from the start--Lord Malgrave had no intention of letting Gath live, from the moment he had learned of the duel.

"And here's where it's brought you." Hulbrenth Malgrave's gunmetal eyes flashed a hint of vengeance through his wry smile. He placed his pistol on Gath's back, above his heart. "I do envy you." Malgrave whispered in his ear.

BLAM! A final shot, and then a tense silence filled the air. Gath's body began to disintegrate into dust, leaving behind only his clothes and his expensive rings.

Malgrave helped Narshe up. But the magician was reluctant.

"Why? Why did you save me?" Narshe was a mix of both disappointment and gratitude, unsure of which emotion she should express.

"You are vital to the Empire, the purpose of my life." Malgrave turned away from her. "If you died, my existence would lose meaning. I would become just like him."

Narshe looked down, uncertain of what to say. As she scanned the ground with her crimson eyes, she noticed a lump in Gath's coat. Inspecting the thing, she pulled it free. It was an old book, bound in a hide of some sort. Narshe read the first page.

This compendium, written by the hand of his Holiness Enlu, enumerates the moste complete and sacred magicks to be used in dealings with and concerning the creatures known as 'Vampyres'. It is to be known as Darcolik, which is in the ancient tongue, 'The Tome of the Fallen,' and to be sealed away from all mankind in the most unfortunate evente of my death, for its secrets may be too dangerous in the hands of any...

Narshe flipped a few more pages in the book, which described the processes to create vampires and lesser revenants, to command and repel, to kill... until she came to the last chapter of the little volume.

The Grand Sanctification

It is by the method of this spell that the hollow souls of Vampyres may be cleansed entirely from the earth. That is to say, any soul rendered incomplete by the most grave curse of Vampyrism shall be unburdened of the shackles of immortality. The conditions for this magick are rare and difficulte, and it remains yet untested...

The passage continued on, describing a long and complex spell, that spanned the entirety of a chapter. From Narshe's first look, it was completely incomprehensible. This kind of magic was beyond her level entirely. It was something that perhaps even Cosette, with her generations of Legacy magic, might be hard pressed to perform.

"You've found something?" Malgrave looked to Narshe. The elder vampire scanned through Gath's remnants, and picked a single ring from the debris. "At least he was not dead to good taste." He smiled coolly, slipping the ring onto his own finger. "Shall we return. I dare to wonder why the police are not here already, with that dreadfully loud discharge." Malgrave looked at his gun. Perhaps he would mix a quieter powder in his spare time.

"Yes..." Narshe slipped the Dark Emperor's spellbook beneath her cloak. In her mind, she weighed heavily the consequences of its discovery, and use.