Shadow of the Abyss

Edwin had been on the Wall when the comet stretched over the skies in a great pyre of white flames dancing through Heaven and Earth, shaking or perhaps shattering the world with a thunderous blaze.

The Earth had still been reeling, quivering at the memory that had branded its depths.

"Hells." Edwin protested, looking out at the devastation. "What manner of demon did they summon?" He cried as the chaos erupted. He leaped into action. Bellowing orders to the Guards of Farwin. No one had tried to stop him. Edwin had proven himself time and time again on the battlefield.

He had experienced seven Hell Tides this year alone, each worse than the last.

"No soldier is to leave the Wall," Edwin had ordered. "Summon the reserves to aid the citizens! Lord Corvant, you will handle the recovery of the city and its citizens. Lord Towell, you will seek the aid of the Sepith. Farwin needs healers! Lord Commander, Verell, how are the preparations coming along?"

Lord Ivan Verell stepped forward in his plated armor, stained by the black rain. "We've Eight thousand strong, my Lord, Ten if Lord Picar sends aid from the south." He said with a hard expression. "I've sent word to the king, and Ser Valquess is riding with eight thousand strong. This battle is not a winning one. Trap Masters are warding our stronghold, but it's not looking good."

Edwin wiped the black rain smeared across his face away. "How many noblemen fled?"

"Lord Saldo, Lord Dune, and Lord Berek." Verell declared, his anger ringing loud over the Wall. "Aside from the servants they–"

"Oh, I can aid with that."

Edwin felt his brow clench as his cold, seasoned eyes crossed Altairs. "You," he said, frowning. "How?"

Untouched by the black rain, Altair strutted forward with the shadow of his knight behind him. "My comrades are on their way, you see. And one of them is a powerful sixth circle like Hilda here."

"The only women I trust to guard my rear are those that have taken the Iron Vow," The Lord Commander said punitively. "And she has not."

The air had gone cold then. Droplets of three black rain had paused mid-light as if held by a great force, an authority so demanding it sweltered into six rings circles of sheer radiance, crowning Hilda Strob with its light. The knight, with her hot pink eyes, narrowed dangerously.

And in a blink of an eye, Lord Verrell had been left breathless. Shaking within his boots as, her presence descended like the Blade of an executioner.

"As I said, we are willing to offer our help. Captain Cedric Vandel is a sixth circle Lord from an ancient line some thousand years ago." Altair said, smiling."All we ask is for the manner of Lord Dune to be seized and given to me. A traitor ought not to have land. And if we're lucky… a true monster might appear. "

"How far?" Asked Edwin. He didn't have the power to strip a lord of his land. Not without permission of the church or the king.

"Half a month… possibly less," The Prince answered. "Either way, you have no choice."

"I could command it," Edwin said solemnly.

"Then command it. But it will not make me move. The lives of everyone here are irrelevant before my mission." Altair said coldly.

Hilda was looking at him now grimly. Would he really abandon an entire city, she wondered, but she would hold her tongue until they were alone.

"Bastard!" spat Verrell. "We are fighting for our lives. For their lives." He pointed towards the screaming woman and children, bloodied and mangled. "How can you be so heartless?"

"Because it's beneath me," He almost said, forcing himself to frown when he wished to laugh at the foolish drivel Verrell was spouting. He answered," Because I am in a foreign land. And I will not risk my people for the lives of those unrelated to me." He said grimly.

"I'll… accept. Give me time to speak to the church." Edwin said, regretting the words the moment they left his lips. He wanted honorable men to take the field… not those guided by coin or profit.

"My Lord!" Shouted Verrell in disapproval.

"I'll not hear it!" Edwin declared hard. "We need soldiers. Not traitors."

****

"What is your aim?" Hilda questioned as they crossed the city walls to the outsider where the bannermen of the various lords stood. They moved downwards across the high roads where the infantry of swordsmen, mages and beast tamers, spearmen, and shield knights stood.

"Survival, of course." The Prince answered, pondering where best to set up camp.

"Bullshit." Hilda hissed. "You—"

From Drupnir, he tossed Hilda a lollipop for her worries. "You worry too much." He said, popping one in his mouth.

"I'm not a child…" Hilda mewled but still accepted it. She had quite the sweet tooth. However, her love lay in sour snacks. She was silent, suckling at the lollipop with stars in her eyes. Hilda had the grace to blush when she realized what she had done.

Altair snickered and patted her head, taking back how smooth her hair was. It had reminded him of Reina's but lighter as his fingers threaded through her hair. He stopped when he saw her blank stare.

"Let's return. I've seen the layout." He said.

It was nearly dawn when they returned. Aria had been at the table, joined by Vanro his three knights, Greymort and Liana.

Altair exchanged glances of pity with Vanro as he seized in his chair. The light in Vanros' eyes had all but faded. He was a Lion without any teeth, a wolf without its claws, a man without his seed. He had lost what made him a man and, in turn, lost his right to rule the North.

"Bastard boy, how are the balls? Or did Lord Edwin nip off the shaft as well?" Altair said airily. He took a seat beside Liana.

Ser Dwayne and Ser Jayden had both risen with glares, fingers wrapped around the pommel of their swords.

"You will not talk down about our lord," Ser Jayden snarled. He had felt the sting of shame across his cheeks that still burned deep.

His Lord… His Lord was not only a bastard but a eunuch now.

Altair snagged some bread, jelly, and cheese that smelt a bit rank. " Is he not a bastard and cockless? Hells. A blind man could see that. Now sit down and eat."

"Jayden, Dwayne. You are in the presence of the Lady," Liana professed coldly. She had no love for the bastard boy. She had lost count of how many times he had tried to force himself on her. Or how his breath smelt of ale when he kissed her. When Liana tried to resist, he would order his knight to whip her until her back bled.

He had gotten what he deserved, Liana believed.

Vanro merely sat there trembling, gripping his empty crotch. When he looked up, all he saw were the eyes of those who pitied him. Even his own knight and his brothers looked at him as such.

'Eunuch,' he told himself. 'That's what I am.'

Ser Jayden tsked. "She's not our Lady. Once she takes the Vow, she'll just be another Iron Maiden." He sat down with a dark glow as he turned to look at the masked woman, looking silently like stone.

"Oh, I don't know," Altair mused aloud, feeling the Iron Maidens cold gaze snap to him. He ignored it. "Aidios chose her. But Aria has yet to choose her. She may do as she pleases. After the rite.

She might even renounce the church and–"

Not many saw when the Iron Maiden had moved. Not Liana, or Greymort, or Ser Dwayne, but in three steps, she had crossed the room, swift as a ghost, she stood behind the Prince and reached for his neck.

Hilda grabbed her palm, frowning. "Who the bloody hell do you think you are?"

"It's alright, Hilda." The Prince had said, gripping a table knife that bled the profane madness of Grave of Night. He stood up and stared into the eyes of the Iron Maiden with a warning. "I am not Edwin." He told her, with the noble bearing of a Lord. "Next time you come at me, you had best come prepared."

He left after that, shooting Aria a wink. The girl beamed and pointed at the maiden when his shadow had vanished. "Leave! You are no longer welcome!"

"My Lady!" Ser Jayden growled. "It's not for you to decide. The Iron Maidens have guarded us for over a thousand years! They are even tending to your brother!"

"My Bastard brother," Aria corrected furiously.

"Please reconsider, my lady,' Said Dawyne in a hurry. "Vanro might become infected and—"

"She attacked Big Brother!" She shouted, gritting her teeth. "And—"

Liana patted her head. " My Lady… you mustn't let such emotions cloud your judgment. Ser Jayden is correct. The Church of the Sepith has guarded our lands in the North for thousands of years." she glanced at the Iron Maiden, still like stone.

"During the War of the Black, nine hundred years ago, your great grandfather, Lord Toumar Silvermane, and the Dawnbreakers of the Sepith retook the North ravaged by demons. For nearly a hundred years, they battled until the North was free. We simply can't kick them out for a single mistake."

Aria puffed her cheeks out. "But she attacked Big Brother."

"And I'm sure the church will apologize, but it's not for us to interfere," Liana said, calming the young girl. There wasn't a need to make enemies, not with a Hell Tide on the horizon. "Come, let's go help the commoners. They are sure to have brighter days knowing that Aria Silvermane, Chosen of the Sepith, cares for them!"

Somewhat unsatisfied, Aria glared at the Iron Maiden but nodded nonetheless.

The Sister of Sepith bowed and stepped back silently.

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