The Severaine

Chapter Seven The Seduction of Aimbria-2

“The lady who ordered these…”

“Ah, yes, she sends her apologies, she needed some air. She should return shortly but wished me to bring your meals.”

“Thank you.” Daniel pulled his coin purse from his satchel.

“Oh, no, sir, tonight is complimentary. Everything here is free this evening. Have you thought of seeing what our island has available?” The man examined Daniel with a knowing smile. “We have much to offer someone such as yourself.”

“We're fine, thank you,” Eiji intervened as he joined them at the table.

“Well, think about it. It's not every day your palate is offered such delicacies.” Daniel felt a strange yearning build within him, perhaps if it seemed they would be here for the night there would be no harm in seeing what was on offer. “If you change your mind, any one of the staff will direct you to… the area of your choice.” The man bid them farewell, closing the door quietly behind him.

“There's somethin' strange about this place,” Eiji voiced his observation. The whole island made his head hurt. He felt almost as if he wasn't quite seeing things as they should be, and this made him uneasy. Without even touching his food he returned to the balcony to once more look out over the expanse to see if he could lay to rest his feelings of uneasiness. But what he saw only heightened it. “Hey, that's Acha!” Something in his voice saw Daniel approach at speed. He watched as his friend, somewhat unsteady on her feet, climbed into a carriage.

“And that crest is Cardow's,” Daniel stated, gesturing towards the symbol on the side before his feet carried him towards the door.

* * *

Acha saw the familiar sight of the tavern in focus, or semi-focus. Since stepping into the fresh air, the effects of the drinks had left her somewhat off balance. Zoe linked her arm guiding her steps. Before the entrance sat a white carriage with a horse. The driver seeing their approach gestured towards Zoe. They exchanged quiet words briefly.

“Oh, Acha, I'm terribly sorry,” she apologised in earnest. “It seems I've kept you away too long. Cardow's agreed to receiving you tonight.”

“I'll go tell—”

“They've already left, not five minutes ago, ma'am.” The driver stepped forward, his posture straight. “Please, if you would accompany me, I shall deliver you to him personally.” Acha hesitated as he stiffly opened the carriage door for her. She glanced up towards their room, but her vision was too distorted to make out which balcony was theirs. Zoe offered her hand, helping her into the carriage and securing the door behind her. With a slight bow the driver returned to his seat and spurred the horses into motion.

Barely any time seemed to pass before they had reached their destination. As Acha disembarked she noticed with discomfort there was no other carriage in the area. Then again, she reasoned, with a property this size there was probably an area designated for such things. The gentleman escorted her to the door, knocking firmly before making his departure, confirming Acha's belief in regard to the carriages.

The mansion was constructed on the borders of a clearing, the rear of the house backing onto the forest. It was clearly yet another example of architecture left behind from the previous cycle, yet unlike Blackwood's mansion it was in a state of perfect repair. There was no evidence of any imperfections upon its brilliant white surface, a colour that despite the implied age of this relic seemed not to have dulled over the millenniums that had passed since its construction.

The building itself was a work of art, the windows were made of finely tinted glass crafted together to create transparent images. Scenes of Moirais, Daimons, myth, and legend filled every transparent surface. She waited uncomfortably, wondering if she should knock herself. If Eiji and Daniel were engaging their host in conversation it was possible her arrival had been unheard.

Just as she was collecting the courage to knock, the door opened slowly. She had only heard small snippets of information about this figure, and how his feats on the council helped to stabilise the trading industry. It was cruel to think, but beholding the image of the short, balding man was somewhat of a disappointment to the impressive figure she had envisioned. She paused for a moment, wondering if perhaps this man was the help. After all, Cardow was a person whose very presence should inspire awe, but before her was a middle-aged man, who stood almost as wide as the cream door, while the pale light from within illuminated the almost hairless dome of his head. The fine and obviously costly suit did little to raise the initial impression, but the ring adorning his finger did indeed confirm his identity.

Acha offered him a quick, courteous smile as she became aware of the manner in which he currently watched her. She quickly became uncomfortable by the hunger she saw within his eyes. His vision wandered slowly over her every contour, taking in every detail of her slender appearance, from her oak brown hair all the way to the well-travelled leather boots she wore. Unconsciously she found herself taking a faltering step backward.

“Ah, you're the one they sent word of. I hear you seek my company tonight.” He looked at the young lady again; for a second she seemed to be studying him almost as intently as he had her. As Acha looked to him she could have sworn she saw something else at the door, another figure. She focused on it attentively, trying to catch another glimpse of the blurred image that had passed.

“Yes, I was told my companions arrived before me?”

“Oh, you're that one?” There was something almost disappointed in his tone. “I guess it's my loss. That is unless you're interested in a little personal business?” He smiled mischievously. Seeing her expression sour slightly only served to broaden his grin. “I guess you have a different kind of business with me. Please, won't you come in.” His wide frame sidestepped allowing her to gain entry into his home. He led her silently through the finely decorated hall, past the fine cloths that displayed intricately weaved workings of his crest.

With the magnificence and splendour of all within its walls it was easy to believe this was another example of long forgotten craftsmanship. No one would even imagine that the house had been built by Fenris himself. When he had begun this undertaking, this landmass had been part of a far greater continent. But he was careful with his works, masking and reducing their disruption to avoid detection and so, although the land was severed as the Severaine rampaged and purged the world, his small fiefdom was left undamaged. After all, the Severaine only destroyed that which threatened the existence of its mother.

The ceilings were carved with spectacular designs. Moirais and Daimons carved from white stone touched hands over the arches leading out of the hall, and other things, not quite discernible, appeared in intervals. The staircase banister was a dark marble, which perfectly matched the composition of the stairs. She couldn't help but stare in awe as they passed through this room.

The entire place was like a work of art worthy of being displayed in the Albeth museum, but she had never seen even a sketch in there that came close to describing the work she now beheld. Her mind was so captivated by the imagery before her she had been unaware Cardow had been talking, his voice was nothing more than a quiet hum.

He led her into the equally grand living room. The chairs, which were arranged in a manner suitable for entertaining guests, were enormous, comfortable, padded seats. There was ample space between them, but all to a certain degree faced the intricately carved heavy wooden chair standing aside the equally grand marble fireplace, at the far side of the room. He motioned for her to sit, yet her eyes glanced around the room uncomfortably. He pulled an iron key from his pocket, using it to unlock a small cabinet. The contents within were hidden by his girth, but his obstructing movements as he poured himself a drink seemed almost deliberate.

“So tell me, what brings you to my door?” He sat back in his large chair bathed in the glow of the firelight, placing the key in his pocket as he spoke.

“I thought my friends had arrived.”

“Ah, yes. I must admit this is terribly embarrassing. I asked the driver to make a quick detour on his return, it seems it has taken longer than anticipated. However, I see no need why we can't discuss what brings you here.”

“Chrissie.” As she spoke her name, it was impossible not to see the slight stiffening of his posture. Again, in that brief moment, Acha saw a strange blurred movement around him, almost as if it sat upon him. Her head swam slightly as a wave of dizziness washed over her. “I believe her… father was here a few days ago following a lead that someone possessing your crest was seen taking her.”

“Chrissie?” He mulled over the name for a moment. “I've had so many visitors lately, although most were women.” He smiled to himself allowing his vision to once more linger on the young lady who now sat opposite him. “I think I recall him… ah yes, Edward wasn't it?” Acha nodded slowly. Something about this situation didn't seem quite right. Surely if someone was impersonating his house he would remember the one who brought him the information with ease. It was rare for a person of stature to take news of this nature with such disregard. “Yes, I remember him. I thought we had come to an understanding.”

“Yes, you did,” Acha answered as she began to have doubts about whether such an understanding should have been met. She found herself glancing towards the door, wishing to hear the knock signalling her friends' arrival. “We agreed to help look for her.” She continued trying to push her doubts aside. She felt a flush of heat spread through her, the aftertaste of the chocolate seeming to resurface as nerves made her chest grow tight. “We were hoping you may be able to help us. From my understanding your family possesses just one crest insignia, with but a few replicas for those of your house, any impersonating it are charged with high treason… they're not easy to forge, either. Someone must have spent a long time planning this, someone who was close enough to take an imprint.” Her voice seemed strangled as the sensation intensified.

“I'll tell you what I told her guardian…” He rose from his seat, turning his back to her, and a wave of something she had felt but once before washed over her. Her vision dulled, her head spun, and her legs grew weak. She stood, hoping to shake free the threat of fainting. Her vision became obstructed as she looked to him in search of aid. But it was not him her vision found. The distorted figure seemed to reform before her eyes. The shattered image of Cardow blurred, and through the cracks she saw something else, something to which this man was the conduit, and within its shadows it writhed and stirred. It was seen only through the hazing, where the two realities touched. The image itself far beyond complete. But the small flashes and glimpses of the movement within were enough to see her paralysed in fear, unable to comprehend what she saw, and perhaps for her own sanity that was for the best. But she knew one thing, somehow Cardow was this thing's link to their world, a world which it could never enter. Through him she sensed its hunger, and the flow of energy from the island to him, and from him to it.