Private Tales Legacy of the Damned

[Akiza Sonshal]

By force if need be. Oh. She might like that. And Akiza might like to watch. But that was a vista on the other side of the bridge, so to speak, as they both still had their audience with King Jürgen before them.

The commencement of music preceded Afanas's telling more of his father. Maybe there was an occasion for said music, but Akiza couldn't spot it. In any case, the tune's somber character fit the environs, so Akiza thought.

...Make what you will of that information.

Akiza held up her hands in a mock surrender. "You got me. Caught me right off guard. I don't know who Queen Maben is." She put her hands down. "But I'll take it your father's been around for a long time."

And after a moment's consideration she added, "Hmm. Never been to Malakath."

Afanas

 

[Afanas]

Afanas frowned. Akiza was a vampire. She could wield magic. How could she NOT know who Queen Mab was? Mab, who held both reverence and hatred in Arethil's magical community.

"Your ignorance is almost amusing, Akiza."

"Mab is the Queen of the Winter Court and mistress to many an unseelie fae. Amongst the fair folk, her influence is matched only by that of Queen Titania of Summer, her…contrasting counterpart."

"My father says she's over ten millennia old, give or take a few centuries and that she holds as many titles as there are ways to die."

 

[Akiza Sonshal]

Fae. For the longest time, even for a while into her vampirism, Akiza had thought them to be merely tall tales; for while many races and creatures populated Arethil, the full scope of which likely unknown to any one person, there among the truth lurked stories born of imagination or misunderstanding. Still Akiza knew scarcely anything of them (she didn't know what "unseelie" meant, for instance), as it just never occasioned any true import in her life.

"Now my ignorance is dispelled," she said.

Ten millennia though. Boesarius would love to mount her head on his wall, no doubt. As for Akiza, she had an inevitable respect for anyone or anything able to live that long. The odds were just against it. Credit were credit was due and all.

"How about you? Would you like to live that long?" A bit of an assumption that he wasn't already that old, but, as far as assumptions went, it was a safe one to make. "I would. I might as well. Seeing that I am the way I am now. It wasn't an option before, so it was a different case. But now it is. And I figure: why not? I just need to make sure I don't catch a silver bolt to the heart. Or anything like that. And then," she gave a small nonchalant shrug, "I can just keep going."

Afanas

 

[Afanas]

Afanas grunted, fingers steepled under his chin, his brow furrowed in concentration. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to silence the noises of merriment coming from all around them. In that stillness, he sought clarity, hoping to untangle the threads of his contemplation.His eyes opened, coming to rest on the kingly form of Jürgen Kaiser. The monarch of Reikhurst couldn't have been all that old, certainly nowhere near ten milenia of age.

Mab, on the other hand, predated most mortal civilizations, especially human ones, from which stock Jürgen undoubtedly hailed.

"I do not know. If to live is to suffer and struggle, then life eternal would equate to suffering ad infinitum."

He smiled, briefly, the corners of his lips twitching upward.

"What I do know, though, is that death can have me, when it earns me."

 

[Akiza Sonshal]

What I do know, though, is that death can have me, when it earns me.

There in Akiza's eyes came a red shine, a glimmer of admiration and endearment. What a way to put it! Nearly in direct defiance of his previous statement, here was a sentiment Akiza couldn't help but to enjoy. Afanas despised death as a veteran soldier despised a coward, saw it not as a thing to be feared but as a thing unworthy, and that it would have to bring more than its best—it would indeed have to forge a new best—in order to claim him. All the tools he had at his disposal he would use to shame death all the days of his life, sending it scurrying away like a scolded dog, tail tucked between its legs, until such time as it could mount a properly mighty effort.

What wasn't to love about that?

A bit of redness showed on her cheeks, and she said, "That's good. I'll credit you. If I ever steal that line."

And then the space before the throne cleared, and the way was open to King Jürgen. He sat in his armor and regal garments, and in his clawed right hand he held the Bloodstone, the ancient artifact which granted him much of his power. His eyes turned then upon Afanas and Akiza.

"Come forth," he said to them, "and let us speak."

Afanas

 

[Afanas]

Afanas dropped to one knee and inclined his head. His posture was humble, shoulders slightly hunched, conveying deference. As he rose, he maintained eye contact with the monarch, ensuring that his gaze remained respectful yet confident.

"Your majesty," he began, his voice steady, "I am greatly pleased that you humored my request for an audience." He spoke with clarity, enunciating each word carefully, mindful of the weight they carried in the presence of royalty.

"I come in search of aid, military aid. I am here on a commission by Alliria's merchant council. It is mine utmost desire to reach a truce with you, one that'll, hopefully, allow me to restore order to the city of commerce."

 

[Akiza Sonshal]

Such a gesture as Afanas offered to the King was foreign to Akiza; most social customs in her long travels on the run throughout Arethil were. But she was nothing if not an improviser, quick on her feet, and in so catching sight of Afanas from the corner of her eye did as he did in her own offering of deference. It just looked better if they did the same motion.

And the essence of Afanas's entreaty came next.

King Jürgen inclined his chin, his interest piqued. His long awaited retribution against his homeland and his people, who had many centuries ago failed him, took many centuries in turn to reach its fruition. And now this new Kingdom he had forged stood as a work with years—a small number of years, but years—to its establishment. Yet in this time his Kingdom had to exist as a shadow, unspoken of, and when the rulers of Arethil who basked in the daylight above thought of Reikhurst they thought only of the ruined, "haunted" city.

One desire now outshined the rest. King Jürgen wished for his New Reikhurst to be recognized, formally recognized, as the Kingdom it was. And now this man—not kindred of the turned vampires, so Jürgen sensed, but a being of the night nonetheless—delivered this news, hinting that this recognition might be so, or soon to be so.

He pondered for a moment, but a small smile did grace his countenance as he sat in quiet contemplation.

"Tell me," he said, "what plagues Alliria these days? It must be dire indeed if they seek parley with Reikhurst and not a nation more...amenable to their tastes."

Afanas

 

[Afanas]

"Nothing good, I fear." Following up on his response, Afanas shook his head, feeling uncannily naked now that his hat was all but stolen from him.

"The merchant princes have enlisted great many foreign mercenaries in their service. In the same breath, the city watch has dwindled. The council has lost its monopoly on violence, or at least the brunt of it, leaving the commerce elites virtually untouchable under the law."

"They need a new fighting force, one so strong that its mere presence would strike fear into the hearts of potential mutineers without necessitating bloodshed."

"Unfortunately, the council has not the monetary resources to pay for such an army, if one even existed."