Fable - Ask Within The Walls

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"No!"

Deapite her cry Irina jerked back from the fire with a curse. Her eyes were as wild as a frightened horses and the way she held herself spoke of a much larger fear of the element than was publicly known. The screams didn't seem to bother her nearly as bad. She was torn between feeling glad the thing was suffering and angry that as he burned so did her answers.

"Damn you to hell," she spat once the flames died and there was nowt but ash and bone left behind.

Others had spilled out of the ballroom to see what the noise was about and on seeing their Princess covered in grime there was a lot of audible gasps. Irina barely seemed to hear them. She was trembling from head to toe and close to tears.
 
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Vlas frowned for a moment. "Rune magic."

He spat.

The beast had probably been sealed in such a way that once it spoke of it's master it would burn. There was no way of knowing if it had intended that, or if it's Master had simply been smart enough to think ahead. Lips thinned for a moment.

He lingered, and then glanced up towards where Irina was standing trembling. Slowly he wandered over to her with a frown. A few people watched him, clearly confused about what was going on. "There will be other ways."

Vlas said quietly.

"He's made one mistake." More than one. "He'll make more."
 
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Irina could only stare at the ash.

Another person dead. Another person who she had known was loyal to her, gone. Her circle was growing smaller and smaller and soon she would be alone. The dopplegangers words echoed in her ears and all the ones he didn't say but she was meant to hear inbetween. Someone had been responsible for the fire that had killed her family; there had always been a part of her that had wondered even though nobody had been able to find the evidence. Whoever it was wad behind both: that and her attempted assassination.

But who was it?

Everything pointed to Mikhail but was that too obvious?
 
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Vlas stayed quiet, no comment he could offer bringing any good in that moment.

Instead he looked up at the faces surrounding them.

He watched the various nobles, peering into their eyes and searching for any sign, an indication. These men and women wore masks for a living, pulling wool over whatever eyes were peering at them even in the best of times.

Most of them were monsters in their own way. "Well. Not the worst thing to happen at one of these is it?"

There were a few chuckles, noticeably one from Dimitri. It seemed to break some of the tension, and then Vlas leaned towards Irina again.

"Back straight." He told her. "Chin high."

Vlas knew these games, better than some of the Princes. "Look them in the eye, and step forward like this was what you intended. This is your keep, your castle, and you defended it."

She needed to long strong if she wanted to survive, and he would remind her of that fact.
 
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Vlas' words cut through the flames that burned across her memory.

Ghosts filled her gaze as she raised her eyes to look at him and nodded. She was on the precipice of breaking and was holding it together by the skin of her teeth.

"Someone needs to find his body," she said numbly though to many it probably sounded like a frivolous afterthought, like she didn't want a body rotting somewhere in her cellars. Melchette might not have been a kind man to all but she could still remember him balancing her on his knee when she had been five and how he had practically carried her father home from the war with the Jhor's.

As she strode through the crowd it parted for her and in groups the nobles drifted back to the party gossiping once more. Irina found the nearest bottle and poured herself a double measure of the vodka, downing it in one swig.
 
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Vlas motioned to one of the Guards nearby.

He had seen some of them look at him over the last few days, though most held little more than curiosity or contempt. Still, it was enough. The man approached him, and Vlas whispered a quick word into his ear before taking half a step forward.

"Yes sir."

The Guard answered quickly. "Be quiet when you find him."

He added, another nod offered in confirmation of his command. Briefly a memory flashed through his mind, ordering around some of the new recruits for the Imperial Guard. He scowled for a moment, and then stepped forward through the crowd.

Vlas could hear the gossiping whispers as he moved through the crowd, following after Irina and approaching her.

He did not like playing advisor. He did not like taking on that role, but Irina had helped him, so he would help her.

"Dance with someone." He told her quietly. "Take charge."

His eyes glanced towards the glass in her hand. "Even if you need another cup."
 
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Irina's hand trembled slightly as she lowered the glass back down to the table. There might have been music, chatter and general noise filling the room but it did nothing to drown out the whispers. Whenever she glanced in their direction the group dispersed suddenly like startled birds. This would only make the other enemies circle nearer to her. Someone had gotten so close to her she had nearly died. Twice. And now she was without her key advisor. She could almost see the way those within her court and beyond it were figuring out their next move in this game of 3D chess.

She almost jumped when Vlas appeared at her side.

"Dance," she repeated dryly then looked at the glass her fingers were still tightly curled around. All she wanted to do was sleep. She felt... so tired. The next shot of vodka barely registered and then she grabbed his hand. "Well volunteered. Dance with me Hunter."
 
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Vlas grimaced. "Prepare to have no toes."

Like all imperial Guard, The Hunter had been taught to dance of course. There had been occasion to join in one the galas, play around and pretend at being a part of some member of far away nobility instead of a member of the Guard.

He'd never liked those nights.

Still, Vlas knew better than to object. If he was trying to help Irina in this moment, rejecting her advances to dance would only be doing the opposite.

He shifted his weight and offered her a hand, gesturing towards the dance floor and then snapping his fingers towards the band.

"Alamins march." Vlas called to them with a smirk.
 
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Irina slid her hand into his and raised a brow at his choice of dance.

Alamins march was not easy. Certainly not what common soldiers knew how to do and many nobles either; it was usually reserved for those who wanted to show off or for those who danced for a profession. Still she was never one to shy away from a challenge and it most certainly had taken her mind off of some of the events which had just transpired. Other couples were racing to join them on the floor with the women lining up either side of Irina and the men drawing up alongside Vlas like two perfect columns of a regiment.

The band struck the starting chord then leapt into it.
 
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The dance was an impressively exerting one. Vlas could not remember the last time he had performed it, and in truth, likely neither could many within the hall. It was an ancient thing, old and dusty. Were it a book, it would have been buried in the back of a library and forgotten about.

That was why he liked it though.

Neus was an ancient city, more so than many others in the world. It had not always been the way it was. Their people had grown from the caves, lived through ravaging winters and scorching summers. They were a lasting people.

Each of them was a Fortress.

A bulwark.

This dance represented that through sheer exhaustion.

By the time they were done, every man and woman who had participated was practically soaked in sweat. Covered in a bright sheen as the music finally wound down and offered the group a reprieve that they were desperately clawing for.

All of them, of course, save for Vlas. He had the wonderful effects of the steel dust still coursing through his veins. A drug that only he could understand.

A smile beamed on his face.
 
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Irina teetered on her feet and place a hand against her partners arm to stop herself from collapsing.

"By the Saint I forgot how hard that dance was," she groaned. It felt as though her heart were actually in the soles of her feet from the way they pulsed and throbbed. Sweat glistened on her milky skin and damp curls clung to her forehead and neck. Despite the clear exhaustion, the Princess was smiling and those haunting memories that had clung like ghosts to her eyes had retreated back into the shadows.

Still, she was glad to see that people were beginning to make their excuses to leave.

"I best say goodnight to the other Prince's," Igor and Dimitri were politely talking by the door waiting for her. She hesitated for a moment and squeezed his arm. "Thank you, Vlas," and then she swept off.
 
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Vlas nodded his head in answer, his gaze sweeping over the room as Irina departed.

For a brief moment he wondered which of them would be next. Which of them was a changeling or some other kind of monster with a human face. There was undoubtedly more. Those who wanted Irina dead, those who would try their best.

Briefly he wondered if it was worth it.

If their country was even worth saving. The constant games, the killing, the subterfuge. Lips turned to a snarl for a brief moment, and then the hunter stalked off and over towards the refreshment table.

Without waiting for the waiter to ask what he wanted Vlas downed half a bottle of vodka. "Dulls the steel."

He explained to the boy as if he'd know what that would mean.