Forgotten Embers

Chapter 20: Lazarus

Avera followed him through the door into a cramped corridor, and he bolted the door behind them. The short hall presented one small doorway off to their right, its door standing open, and the plain white walls continued onward only to dead end within a few feet of the opening.

"In my office, if you would, please," he graciously requested, gesturing towards the lonely door frame.

The two of them entered into an office, the small and simple room housing only a few bookshelves, a desk with two chairs, and the chaotic organization typical of his rooms or offices. Papers and notes were strewn about the desk beside mess of pens and inkwells. About a dozen books lay open to various pages scattered atop surfaces about the room.

Avera paused to take in the room and all its charm, and he watched her as she did. "I am sorry for the mess," he told her.

"No. It's alright. How... cluttered is the mind of a genius," she remarked pleasantly.

"I suppose... that or a madman," he replied with a joking grin. "Excuse me while I take care of this."

He grabbed a lamp and brushed some papers to the side as he pulled it closer to the edge of the desk. He fiddled with it, making a few minor adjustments. Then, seemingly satisfied with the lamp and its placement, he turned his attention again to the letter.

'Lazarus...'

He glanced down at the simple address marked elegantly in black ink by his friend's hand.

"I'm rather anxious to read this, you see," he explained, grabbing for his letter opener and breaking through the envelope. "Because Lord Blackridge said it's important, yes, but also... because it really must be urgent for him to have it taken here, much more so directly to me."

"He doesn't send you letters here, then?" she asked directly.

"Here... or at all. We have certain systems in place, should he have need to reach me," he told her, extracting the letter from the envelope and unfolding it. "That's why we ought to take a look at it now. Oh!" He stopped for a brief moment to turn her way. "I don't suppose you've ever seen this done. It might be of some interest to you," he told her, angling the letter so as to show her the ink marked page. "You see?"

"I see it," she said, taking a close look at the conglomeration of strange marks and unfamiliar characters. "Are those words you're familiar with?"

'This truly has become a novelty, hasn't it?'

"Not at all," he quietly chortled, "but there is a message here for us. It need only be brought to light."

"But how can you read it if you don't know the script?" she asked with puzzled interest.

He reached over and pressed the wick between his fingers. The oil in the bottom of the lamp began to glow and the wick began to smolder, then ignited and grew into a small flame like sparkling candlelight.

'Thank you,' he smiled, overcome with gratitude.

He took the letter and held it against the newborn flame. "Watch," he gently instructed her, his eyes alight with the fire of the burning lamp.

The written characters began to glow as the words became alive, and he looked on with pleasure as Avera watched in awestruck wonder. Each word, each letter, each stroke began to twist and twirl as it fought its way off the page. They floated up in the air with a spectacular show of dancing light before they wafted once again down onto the paper which he held. The words fell gently upon the page, having been transformed into simple language and familiar letters.

"It's been awhile since last I had the pleasure of this," he told her, smiling.

His eyes became fixed on the newfound pen strokes, still aglow with the light of the lamp, and he began to read, his eyes darting quickly across the page as he took the message in.

My Dear Friend, 

Twice have I have traded blood for a man's life. Once to the ground and once to the King. Tyberion has escaped with what remains of the research regarding the conclusion of the governmental reforms. As for the boy, it is my regret that I could not spare him from threat, but the King has desired him. Time is short. We will pursue. His life is, as it ever was, in your hands. Knight to D3.

Eternally in Your Service,

Adrien Blackridge

'Adrien...' He closed his eyes in careful consideration. 'Check, is it?'

He opened his eyes, his brow furrowed. "Oh dear," he muttered contemplatively, his face becoming deathly serious. 'Well... this could be a bit more trouble than I had realized.'

"Well?" Avera sputtered, inspiring nothing more than a glance in her direction. "What does it say?" she asked curiously.

He offered a hesitant smile to guise his growing concern. "You were right... it is important," he told her, his mind still contemplating the trouble at hand.

"Mr. Waverley, what is it?" she asked him, becoming desperate for answers.

"We should go now," he told her, burning the note in the fire until it was a pile of ash. "There is a problem, and one which must be cared for speedily. I must ask that you accompany me to the merchant's district."

"Of...course," she affirmed with a quick nod, not seeming to understand why.

"Thank you," he said, and he hurriedly made his way out the door into the hallway. "Follow me, if you would, please."

The girl quickly followed, coming obediently through the open doorway behind him. She started back towards the door to the platform which was bolted, and he stopped her when he saw it.

"Not that way, Avera," he called after her, his voice kindly yet stern.

Avera turned to see that he had taken a right and was now standing at the end of the hall, considering the seeming dead end of the rough walls painted white. He laid his hand against the wall and felt the warmth flow through him, dropping into his palm and spreading out into the painted plaster. Streams of light like liquid fire appeared before his eyes and began to pattern the covered bricks, revealing what was hidden beneath the surface. The wall slowly began to move, dropping down into the ground below them, leaving a grand archway to a long set of stone stairs leading down into the mysterious darkness of the city's underground tunnel system.

"This way, please," he beckoned her with a friendly smile.

'All is well. First to Dorcus, then to Benjamin.'