Capítulo 27: Arcane Shard

Outside his Estate, beneath the cover of darkness, Zariel looked up from his pavilion at the near-infinite stars filling his silvery eyes. He was counting them, wondering how many millions of parsecs away they were from him. A sort of solace came from the calculations oozing from his mind, comforting the demons.

"Not much longer,' He thought, sensing dawn on the horizon. He pulled himself up and looked towards the forest of black, pulling in the scent of blood wafting the air.

He ignored it.

Soon, the howls of wolves and the roars of cryptids came like a storm over the night, tearing at what manner of animal was slain.

"Be Silent." Zariel's voice rang. The command came like the crackle of thunder that bore into the minds of mindless beasts.

Fear penetrated the body like a knife wrenching at the soul until only silence remained.

'Was that the Voice?"

The voice echoed from Selene as she emerged from the forest, a predatory gleam in her eyes. Around the lips, a light smear of blood.

Zariel greeted her with his eyes. "The Spell is called Command."

"From the School of Animus?"

"That is correct," Zariel answered with a sort of serenity that gave no gleam of surprise by her sudden emergence. "What can I do for you, lady Selene?"

"Nothing much," she lied. "Just wondering if you read over the letter I gave you."

"I gave it to Genny to read. She'll handle any particular equipment I might need. Though I don't suppose I'll need any. Nothing that the academy can't supply for me." He paused, studied the smearing of blood around the lips, and knew she had fed upon someone or something.

Selene touched her lips, noting his stare, smiled, feeling the faint wetness, and licked her finger clean with a seductive light. "Does the sight of blood excite you? They were after you, you know. Seems our new professor is quite popular. Well, do you know why they're after you?"

A sort of arrogance echoed from Zariel's throat, "I don't particularly care. There will always be someone after my head. Yet here I stand." his eyes swayed toward the shadows within the forest, his gaze marking the ten Assassins watching him. He scuffed, shifting his attention back to Selene.

"Death holds no meaning to the likes of me."

Exhilaration came in like a fiery ball of warmth through Selene's chest. She grinned, marking the sort of poised demeanor the boy carried. There was a sort of warning in the way he stood that was both inviting and repellent.

He didn't feel like a boy any longer, but a man, a Lordling that bore an overwhelming presence.

Selene drew closer, entering the open pavilion, and said, "Then allow me to introduce you to Trinity as the name sounds. The school is broken up into three Houses: The Golden Stag, The Ironbloods, and the Silver Wolves, each competing against the other to win resources."

"Resources like?"

Selene reached into her robe, removing a small veil filled with a red liquid. "This is a strengthening stimulant. One gulp of this, and your physical strength will double, in turn strengthening the Arcane Core and allowing it to hold more Arcana. Of course, this elixir here has its limits. But it ought to push most outside the norms of humanity. Want it?"

"Not particularly."

The stimulant might perhaps allure the minds of mortal men alike, but Zariel had no interest in the workings of this red ooze. The Weaved showed its genetic origin housed within it, the inner workings of herbology that were used to craft what it is today.

"You could give it to Aurelia," Selene suggested.

"She's already inhumanly strong. It'll do her no good. And save your feigning surprise. I know you know she has a physique. Vampires, especially pure-bloods, all house superior senses."

The Countess showed an awkward smile. "You're quite a crude one."

"Aside from these Stimulants, what other resources do the students receive."

"Not just students. Professors too. Aside from teaching, professors are all required to participate in research. Of course, we will fund your labs and whatever resources you might need. And since you are a Transfiguration Professor, you will be required to advance this particular school of sorcery. You'll be given five Grade Four Arcane Stones. Along with your choice of Arcane Shards."

Zariel lifted a brow for the first time. "Arcane Shard?"

With a foxy smile, seeing him ignorant of something, Selene lifted her head high to explain. 'Arcane Shards are weapons that synergize with material weapons, granting weapons particular aspects. So, imagine you swing your sword. You can cut at most once. But with an Arcane Shard, one cut might become two cuts or three, depending on how you develop it."

Surprise, to say the least, having never heard of such a thing on Iluthath, much less Genisis, Zariel was a little shaken, somehow finding something worthy of his time on this small planet of Lumaris.

"When does the school year start?" he asked, maintaining his calm demeanor.

"About a week. It'll take two weeks to reach Trinity. But I hear you've got a Teleportor."

Zariel didn't deny it. "I do, but I don't trust other people to input the coordinates. A single mistake, and I might be cast into a strange world or, worse, tossed into the Void. I'll travel by horseback for the time being."

The Countess pursed her lips, wanting to argue against his decision. The boy was still weak. Still but a child, but she could not argue against the caution in which he spoke. Travel through teleportation, while instantaneous, was incredibly dangerous.

"That's reasonable," she said. "Then when do you wish to leave?"

"Tonight. I'll need time to seal my manor."

****

"He's leaving, are you sure?" the Castilan, Darrian Solvas, asked. 'Perhaps this is my chance.' he thought.

"Heard it myself." said a one-eye man on one knee. "Malos and the Representative of Trinity were speaking quite openly, so we—"

"When is he leaving," Darrian demanded.

"Tonight."

Darian turned to his aide, Eddis. "Send word to the City Watch. I want them to raid the boy's manner the moment he leaves. I'll be—"

"Sir,' Eddis, a stout dwarven man with a few feet of long silvery hair, cut in with a bow. "The boy is apparently a Transfiguration Master; some even claim a dragon raised him."

Darrian made a sour face. " What's your point."

"We know Malos is a shrewd businessman. We know this because of all the ventures throughout the year. The business with the goblins at the King's Armory within the Artesian District. Then, there are all the strange microtransactions going on behind the scenes regarding these deals. Karlis, the Black Witch of Salem, even professed that the boy might be a Crossroad Demon in disguise. She fears the unknown deals the boy is offering. Just the other day, Ordvac's entire family was slaughtered. Burned alive, in the most deplorable way."

"You make a valid point," Darrian muttered, his fist clenching into a tight ball, though his voice echoed like a seething ball of frustration. "What does your clansman think of the boy?"

"They loath the boy. Magic and Dwarves don't mix, m'lord," said Eddis gruffly. "Transfiguration is a field of sourcery that rejects all that we dwarves stand for. What can be done in a matter of hours by hammer could potentially be done in a second with a simple Transfiguration spell. Malos is a scourge upon the land, but he's allies now: The King, Trinity, that Bloodstained Countess, and who knows how many that made a deal with him."

"So we tact. No… we need a powerful Arcanist." Darrian concluded, narrowing his eyes, feeling a sort of cloud clear from his mind. His fingers drummed across his throne's armrest. "Thinking about it now. The boy might have laid a trap around his home. We've reports of strange Wardings."

Eddis smirked. "Might I suggest we lay a trap? To get to Trinity, Malos must pass through the Forest of Averkien. Elven Land. And you know how they feel about slavery. Why not present a scenario that might lead to conflict? We've got a few elvish allies greedy for coin. A few letters or two and we might—"

"We might be given an opportunity to eliminate the boy." Darrian laughed. "You are indeed shrewd for a dwarf. Good. Good. Set it up. Use the High Elf Slave we have. She'll do well to anger even the elders."

"Are you sure? We've only just finished her training. A Virgin High Elf could buy a city. Some of our nobles are so invested. That—"

"A small loss. If Malos is to die, I'll finally obtain that damn broken hilt, placing it beneath my control. In the meantime, find me a damn Arcanist that can break into the Estate without activating any traps."

Eddis bowed, "As you command, my Lord." he turned, signaling for the assassin to follow.

"The Broken Hilt of Dawn," Darrian muttered to himself, biting his lip. A nasty habit he could never break.

"My Lord," A soft voice called, startling the Castillan.

"Yenna?" Darrian responded with a smile. "I thought I sent you to bed."

"The bed was cold without you, my Lord." the Half-Elf, Yenna, mewled with a shrewd glow in her emerald eyes. Wrapped in a thick wool cloak, she grinned mischievously. "When I saw you running late. I thought—" her robes dropped, revealing her bare milky white skin. "You might want me upon your throne."

She slithered forth, her hips swaying in a seductive tease as her blond hair danced along her back.

Darrien felt his throat turn dry.

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