The Masked One and his two new servants had prepared as best they could as the sun began to set. "Dakzul," he began, while reviewing a map of Coltend made from violet swirls of mana levitating just above the stone floor.
"You will take the western-facing side of the palace, while Kimzul will watch the northern. I suspect they will attempt a diversion of some sort, so be on your guard for anything that may seem suspicious," he said, pointing to specific areas on the map with a tendril of mana. "I will command creatures to aid you, while I prepare to transport the plants back to Valdis. Any questions?" he asked.
Dakzul shook his head, but Kimzul gazed at the map. He was no strategist and felt something was missing, but said nothing. "Kimzul," the Masked One said, breaking his line of thought. "None, great one," Kimzul quickly answered. "Then go now to your stations and await further instructions," the Masked One said.
He waved his hand, and the two bowed before him and headed to their destinations. The Masked One disintegrated the map he had made and proceeded up the nearby stairs that led to the royal bedroom.
He saw the hand Leona had crushed in her flight still wedged between the door and the frame. It was covered in small, white maggots that bore deeply into the dead flesh.
That must have been interesting to watch. Greedy bastards, he thought.
His eyes glowed intensely, and a blast of violet mana came from his fingertips, splintering the door and twisting the metal hinges. He stepped through the now-empty frame into the room. The large bed was just as Leona had left it on that fateful day; the sheets and red covers were in a wrinkled mound near the center of the bed. The easel in the corner of the bedroom stood as a silent guardian.
If it had eyes, it would have been terrified to see the significant, cloaked figure in the room gazing at it with genuine interest.
The painting on the easel depicted a dense forest with a flowing river running down the center. A fawn drinking from the river gleamed in the small rays of sunlight that seeped through the canopy. He stepped away from the easel and looked out the large windows.
He moved the curtains aside, and before him was a vast field of houses and shacks, with the wall that protected the city itself beyond them. He looked out beyond the wall and toward his dark hall pensively.
"Lord," Kimzul interrupted from the doorway, making him sigh. "What is it?" he asked bluntly. "I know it's not my place to ask, but is something wrong? I don't think this room was one of the locations you mentioned I had to guard," he said shyly. "You're right, it isn't. I just wanted to try to get a better understanding of where her mind is, and what she might have told those Synners about this place," the Masked One began bluntly.
"I've spent centuries alone, performing a task I was given by someone far more powerful than I, and yet here I stand at the edge of it all, moments before this final leap in progress could, potentially, be stripped away," he continued, stepping away from the window to look at his servant.
"Even though that concept may seem benign to you, or even far out of your realm of understanding, for that matter, it isn't to me. The knowledge I've sought after all these years is right within my grasp, yet these fools think they can simply come and take it from me," he said, frustratedly, making Kimzul flinch.
"But lord, a horde is outside to meet them like water on rock. Do you not have faith in them?" Kimzul asked, spreading his arms a little. "I do, but you must remember that those coming here to try to stop us have been training their entire lives for a moment like this. I can't afford to take any chances here, not when I'm so close to achieving my goals, and those of the one who gave me the command to be here," he sighed, glancing out the window again.
"I see, lord," Kimzul nodded. "I'm not sure you do, but I wouldn't expect that from someone of the Church," the mage replied curtly. "I just need to buy enough time to get as much of the Gwynnleaf out of here as possible, and bring it back to Valdis where it will be safe from undeserving and unremembered hands," he clenched his fist tightly. "Whose, lord?" Kimzul asked with visible confusion.
"That's for me to know and you to, hopefully, never have to find out. Fate is a fickle, worthless old hag who's always challenging those who have sought power with their own hands. Sometimes, however, those challenges of hers require a challenger, and in this case, I am that challenger," he said cryptically, leaving Kimzul even more confused than before.
"I'm not sure I follow, lord," he admitted with a shrug. "It's probably for the best, then. Just know that there are powers at work which drive me to do what I need to do, regardless of how horrible or harsh it may seem from an outsider's perspective," the Masked One replied. "Very well, lord. I will trust your judgement," Kimzul bowed.
Just as I want to trust my own. One day, perhaps I just might, the mage thought, giving his servant a dismissive wave.
He spent the better part of an hour in the royal chamber, noting the books and tomes kept there. Some were old and covered in dust, while others appeared to be frequently used. After reading through a handful of them, he left the royal room and went outside the palace to find Kimzul, who stood atop the stone wall that guarded the city.
He levitated to his servant's side, the afternoon sun beaming warm rays onto his mask. "Status," he demanded. "Everything is calm, and there have been no signs of their approach, lord," Kimzul replied, gazing off into the distance with the aid of his helmet.
The Masked One looked out in the same direction. "Something isn't right," he said quietly after a moment's pause, immediately sending a chill down Kimzul's spine. Off in the distance, a rider appeared out of the dense forest, coming along the path to the Northern Gate. The horse's hooves could be heard from a distance in the silence atop the great wall.
"Lord," Kimzul said urgently, pointing in the rider's direction. "I see it," the Masked One said before Kimzul could explain what he saw. The horse snorted heavily under the stress of galloping at such a high velocity. The cloaked rider pushed the horse as hard as he could, as though he were fleeing from something.
"It's almost as if this was the only one of them who dared to come and fight you, lord," Kimzul scoffed. "Not quite, but let's give this rider a warm welcome, shall we?" the Masked One asked with a tinge of malice. The glow in his eyes intensified as he cast his hands backwards, releasing tendrils of mana down to the great gears that turned to open the massive gates.
The gates opened, and out of it sprinted an ochelon on its fours. It rapidly picked up speed, digging its claws into the dirt beneath it to gain more traction. The rider pressed on, pushing the horse as fast as its legs would carry it. The ochelon saw its prey, and its blackened eyes focused directly on its target, gaining even more speed. Suddenly, the rider lifted the hood of its cloak, and the Masked One looked upon the rider's face.
He made it! I didn't think he would have the audacity to do it after all, he thought.
He raised his hand, and the ochelon abruptly stopped, skidding along the dirt for quite some distance. The rider rode past it, and it followed him back to the gate. Once inside, the rider dismounted his tired horse and led it to a nearby water trough. The Masked One floated down from the walls to greet the newcomer, opening his arms in a welcoming gesture as his cloak fluttered in the wind. "Welcome to the once impenetrable Coltend Castle," he said.
"It's an honor to meet you in person, master. I've been waiting for this day for a long time," Irun bowed humbly. "As have I. Your services in Codrean were instrumental in my success here so far, though I will need to know of their most recent movements, as they should be somewhere nearby," the Masked One glanced toward the treeline.