Chapter XXIII - Blood and Brass

Senlui · Post #1 » Sun Apr 22, 2018 5:06 pm

Caranordor had marched the Regiment back to the makeshift garrison at the north of the kingdom to make repairs to armour, replenish provisions, and heal their injuries. Having disappeared for several months, Telalis was waiting for them. Largely ignored by the military troops, Ithilsyn was surprised to see him, especially clad in the attire of the Temple of Khaine.

“Walk with me a while,” the Seeress uttered, her sight still hazy from the enchanted scroll that had flared into life in her hands. Using her staff to guide her, Ithilsyn moved towards a quieter end of the garrison, away from prying ears.

“Where have you been?” she asked.

Telalis remained silent, his brass coloured eyes taking on a haunted look as if he was reliving some event in his mind’s eye, before a look of anger fell upon his features.

“So much has occurred,” she continued, thinking of the last time she had seen the Dreadlord, injured in the battle along the way to the Spires of Narthain. An old ally, she could have done with his presence and support throughout her ordeal, never mind his blades.

“Away.” Telalis replied, turning his head before looking back to the Seeress, noting her slowly healing injuries. A roughly stitched wound was developing into a nasty scar on her flank, and she wore red bands around her wrists and ankles from her time as a prisoner to the possessed Commander, prior to exorcising the daemonic spirit that had been using him as a host. The whites of her eyes were reddened and raw.

“Temple business,” he elaborated, “Here, let me look at that. This may hurt... a bit.” He mumbled an invocation to the Lord of murder as he ran a knife across his palm before placing it firmly on the sword wound. Ithilsyn bit back a cry as he drew his hand away, the cut opened afresh. It was not clear whether the fresh blood running down her skin was hers or Telalis'. As he deftly wove it into a stream of threads, the Seeress looked on as the strands hovered over her body before settling lightly on her pale flesh.

“Now close your eyes.” She placed her trust in the Druchii as she felt the tip of the blade drag across an eyelid. For a moment she feared that he might run it in to her eye, understanding the risk she was taking by allowing herself to be so vulnerable without a guard. The blow she feared never came, as she felt the cold edge of the knife touch the other.

“It is done.”

Ithilsyn exhaled, her tension released as opened her eyes, blinking, the world once more falling into focus. She ran a hand over her belly, hesitantly, so as not to aggravate the sword wound. Besides the slickness of fresh blood, she found her skin to be smooth, and looking down gasped to see Telalis’ work; all her injuries, gone. “It is as if it had never been...” she whispered, regarding her wrists in awe.

The Dreadlord seemed satisfied by his rite, the Seeress’ blood staining his knife and hands. “The Temple called me again. I had to answer.”

Ithilsyn nodded, recalling the troubling letter that had found its way to her. In his absence, a rival House had slaughtered Telalis’ bride before wiping out his entire line, to ensure no heir would avenge him. She regarded her ally, “Dreadlord...?”

“No more. I serve Khaine now.”

The Seeress looked at him with a concerned frown, “What happened?”

“After I found out what they did... I hunted them down. All of them,” he hissed, “and when they came for me, the Temple granted me sanctuary.”

“You are on the run?” Ithilsyn queried, her eyes widening. It seemed the fool had gone on a murder spree to avenge the death of his family, without a care for his own survival. His fleet, troops, estate, all to ash and ruin.

Telalis looked to her, barely concealing his anger, “They took everything. So I took everything from them. I am a Temple Confessor.”

So, it would seem that he was a devotee to Khaine now. She wondered whether this was official Temple duties, or whether he now followed the path of the zealots. She had known that he had fallen into a cauldron of blood, but always assumed that this had been one of his tall tales. The white hair and brass eyes now told her a different story. There had always been some difficulties with their faction and the Black Convent, and she smoothed her gown as she considered if this would cause any difficulties now within the invasion force under Caranordor. Well, if it did, he had openly admitted to cold murder of his rivals without the blessing of his Drachau. Yet, things could still work out. To have the Khainites collaborate with her arcane circle somehow... yes, that would be something. She considered how these new times had brought much challenge, old traditions were being shattered, to be forged anew by the one whose hand was strong enough to do so.

As a small patrol of guards began to march past, the two looked at each other, clear that each party was considering a great deal. “We shall speak again,” he uttered, nodding his head before turning on his heel to find some spot to call his own for the night. Ithilsyn nodded in return, trailing her fingertips once more across her smooth skin, secretly thrilled that the ugliness of the thalken’s strike had been wiped from her body.

As she stepped into her tent covered in dried blood, the look on her retainer’s face was memorable. This indeed was an age for magic and miracles, if one was prepared to pay the price for such power.

Return of Reckoning

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Chapter XXIII - Blood and Brass

Chapter XXIII - Blood and Brass

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