Fable - Ask The Disappearance of a Murderer

[Leander Urahil]

V E L S O N D O R
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While the Urahils were wealthy enough to own a grand estate in the city of Vel Anir, when it came to significant business, the family went to Vel Sondor to discuss in privacy the matters that Felix found so important. It was the home the twins grew up in before being thrust into the Academy, and Leander hadn't been here since his arrival as an initiate. Now a graduate, he fully appreciated the Anirian city that was part of his namesake. In Anirian fashion, it was protected by large, thick walls. The stone was pale through the centuries of sunlight beating down on them. Gold would decorate these grand walls, and the gates would open wide. These gates hadn't closed in a century, and sometimes Leander wondered if they could anymore.

Only a fool would lay siege to the home of the Sondorkommans, the knights known for being willing to do anything for Vel Anir. Only a fool would risk the wrath of the Urahil bloodline, comprised of soldiers, captains, and commanders. The war stories of Urahils and Quillons, of Bierhals and Gradels, all of it cumulated to one lesson: do not go against those with warlord in their blood.

The carriage quickly came from the main road to their gilded estate, made of white stone and adorned in navy and gold.

He watched the Guards that made their home here, many coming from here. They may have worn the crimson of Vel Anir, and even Felix wouldn't have made them dress otherwise despite his delusions of grandeur, but there was something in their eyes that kept them different from all the other guards. They were trained how those without magic were trained, under the tutelage of the greats that the Urahils sent out to their King--

"Republic," Leander mumbled under his breath. He still forgot it was that, even if it felt like nothing had changed. His enemy was never Vel Anir or the Monarchy, it was his own brother who had called this meeting. Those invited would wake up knowing they were invited one morning, and they would know the rules: only them, no lover, no wife, no bodyguards. They would not be allowed to tell anyone, and somehow, he would know if they had. His pale gaze watched a female guard train to learn how to fight and defend when smoke bombs were used. He found it to be in bad taste that the smoke came out red, wondering what the point was. To help desensitize her to blood? By her age, she should already be used to blood and carnage, bone and gristle, flesh and deformity.

Many minutes later, the carriage came to the estate's door. The long road was another warning, showing all the future guardsmen and knights to display their long lineage and ilk. It would have unnerved Leander, but with his dreadlord title, he felt secure. Only when he stepped out of the carriage, in finery that would please his father more than his brother, did he feel a dull dread. He looked over his shoulder, watching the coachman lead the carriage to the stables. They all would stay the night; this dinner was not an affair that granted brevity.

"Dreadlord Leander," Captain Capucine greeted him coldly at the door, using her rank against his. Leander figured Felix was sleeping with her, too. He liked to sleep around with powerful women so he could remind them that it was fleeting, that compared to him, they would always be weak. Leander wasn't sure why they kept coming back. "You'll follow me to the reception room. Dinner is not yet ready." A maid opened the grand, knotty alder door, and they did not close it until Leander was a few feet inside. He stared at the grand staircase, the portraits of all the Urahils before him who bore grand titles. Some wore heavy armor, others wore military uniforms, but they all shared the blonde hair that had their naysayers point and whisper of incest.

He was led up the stairs and felt comfortable putting his hand over a rail that appeared gold but felt more like iron. Much like the unity the Urahils and the cadet branches showcased to all of Vel Anir, it felt performative. Leander didn't release his sigh of contempt. He would have plenty of time for it, after all, family dinner was about to begin.

 

[Ysvain Urahil]

In the reception room already would be Ysvain and anyone else that had already arrived. The attire he wore was sharp and of good quality - the minimum expected of the Urahil for this occasion. His breeches especially seems to be of a fine material for comfort and breathability.

Upon Leander's arrival, Ysvain stood and gave a small bow in greeting.

"Cousin Leander," he said with a smile - regardless of their history.

"My congratulations on your graduation and ascension to Dreadlord," Ysvain told Leander.

 

[Perrine Urahil]

"Yes, congratulations are in order." Perrine Urahil strode into the room moments after Leander had arrived, dressed back in her usual fashions before she had begun wearing her fashionable wardrobe she had made to wear during the hours she served as Proctor at the Academy. As of late, her spirits had picked up now that missions were becoming less of a burden upon her. It appears that the battlefronts were holding some weight, not needing the immediate assistance of a Healer. It meant the medics were doing their jobs, and well at that.

For Felix to summon them all, it often left a sour taste in her mouth that she would be subjected to his presence, when the last she had met with the Urahil taking charge of the family affairs had been when he ordered her to become a Proctor. Unsure how exactly he swindled her to be stationed there, it gave her the opportunity to watch the twins. Now that they were graduated, earning the title Dreadlords each, she wondered if he would now inform her that her services to the Academy were no longer needed.

Perrine arched a blonde brow as Ysvain, forgetting that the Urahils were still enrolled at the Academy. As Proctor, she barely crossed paths with the younger Urahil, but this year they would begin to take Etiquette lessons with her.

If Felix allowed her to leave her post, she would not have to teach another class that claimed they did not need manners.

 

[Odessa Urahil]

Odessa had barely stepped out of her own carriage when she felt the weight of her family name pressing down on her. The ride to their home was a blur of flickering memories and disappointment. She was sure today would be no different than any other day in the comfort of her family.

She had only agreed to come because there was no disagreeing with her eldest sibling. If he called, you were expected. No questions asked, no declining the invitation. She balled her fists tighter, fingernails digging into her flesh as she walked alone through the front door. She'd never paid any mind to the 'no plus ones' rule until now, until she wished more than anything for Rhidian to be by her side through whatever inevitable shitshow was going to occur.

She twisted the ring on her finger, the one that allowed her to feel, and wondered if that was the cause of her unease as she hesitated in the doorway of the reception room.

"Perrine. Ysvain. . . Leander." Her voice was devoid of any warmth as she greeted them. Her nose crinkled as she forced herself through the threshold and took a seat. The air was thick, smelling of dust mingled with something else she could not quite place. She wondered if that had been how it always smelled and she never noticed due to her dampened senses.

 

[Oraya Urahil]

With a swish of her gown that probably cost more than the castle that the Anirian royals lived in, her elegant legs took her past Perri and the cousin to both Leander and Odessa. Without a word and without any magic, she managed to tug the twins into a tight embrace.

"My darlings," she fussed over each, plopping light kisses on their cheeks.

True concern lay in her glacial gaze.

"Are you two being fed enough? You always look far too thin."

A tsk left her lips as she held onto them longer even if they started to squirm to get out of her embrace.