Jester Keleir Vinmaier was annoyed. Not particularly at the servant in front of him, but at the world in general. His brother had died. It was sothing he had considered bringing about himself many tis over, but he had never actually followed through on those thoughts. The brat was no danger to his personal goals. Moreover, his death would only cause trouble. In fact, Kereman could not have died at a more inconvenient ti nor could he have chosen a more ridiculous target to be his executioner.
"Killed by a fucking Goddess," Jester murmured as his eyes again flew over the letter his father had received weeks — maybe even months — ago. "And the old fool tried to hide it, too."
Stupid.
He sighed, motioning the slave that had brought the letter to leave his room. She would be back later, he knew, to fulfill her other evening duties. He liked the girl, but lately she had only ever brought him bad news. Of course, it wasn't exactly her fault — she was just a slave-concubine of his father, one that was privy to so information the Lord of the house did not think would leave his bed chambers.
His personal slaves might not be permitted to speak to him, but they could still write down what they heard and pass the information to him. Nor could they tell his father that they
did
bring him information. Whenever he would ask them, they would tell him that they did no such thing — that he only used them as a man of his stature should. In bed.
Should not have let
buy your slaves, father.
Jester was not as stupid as his little brother had been. He had his eyes on a goal much grander than being the Lord of the Vinmaier family. Owning an island in Ebenlowe might have been sothing many people would already deem ambitious, but for Jester that was just a matter of ti. The real goal that would require work was owning Ebenlowe itself; sothing that had beco much harder now that the literal Creator of everything had made it her ho.
And Kereman offended her sohow.
With another sigh, he stood up and made his way towards his study. His footsteps echoed through his chamber, the polished orichalcum-laced marble not allowing for quiet movents; sothing his mother had belittled him for at the ti he had purchased it. After multiple assassins had failed to move quietly across the floor - and been caught because of it - she had of course changed her mind. The enchantnts had been worth their rather audacious cost.
Sothing that truly prevented entry — and was unknown to proper assassins — was a lot harder to get, and even more expensive than the floor tiles he had ordered.
The door to his study shut with a heavy click as its lock fell back into place, the slight hum that reached his ears as the enchantnts activated giving Jester a comfort he seldom felt these days.
"Three Gods dead," he murmured to himself, making his way through his study to the small bar he had installed next to his desk. "Ridiculous."
With a quiet ding of the bottle hitting his glass, Jester poured himself a drink. The Potion of Delight did its na justice, even if it was not exactly a true potion. It used so of the sa herbs as a mana tincture but, in the end, was still nothing more than an alcoholic beverage. One he liked to indulge in every now and then.
After taking a sip of the light blue liquid, he took a few pieces of paper from a drawer of his secretaire as well as a gold-inlaid pen. A touch of his mana flowed into the writing instrunt, allowing the words he wrote on the page to shift into unrecognisable shapes.
His father had made a blunder he could no longer tolerate, forcing Jester to accelerate his plans. The death of this brother would not remain a secret much longer and, once it was out, their standing would be in danger. He also had to sohow appease the Goddess his brother had offended, a feat he was not sure how to accomplish.
"If only he had not hidden it," Jester mumbled as he wrote the last few words, pressing his ring onto the paper once he was done. The sigil of the Vinmaier family appeared on the letter, glowing crimson for a mont as the rest of the words he had written vanished.
A mont later, his family sigil disappeared as well, replaced by an incomplete compass rose. The marker that should point south-west was not present — broken like the rest of the circle westward of the small diamond that represented south — with only the north-east part of the spear being intact. A double-bladed spear crossed the rose in the opposite direction, the bigger edge pointing north-west, barely resting on the rose’s periter.
As he watched, the sigil of the Order of Inaru completed itself, restoring the missing elents with golden lines, and he knew they had accepted his contract.
Now to wait for Jidol to accept.
The Order would only send the best to ensure his father would et an untily end. Then the burden of leading the house would fall to him.
At least mother will be happy.
The woman had wanted to leave Ebenlowe for years, but couldn't as long as his father remained head of the house.
The piece of paper quickly vanished back into the drawer it had co from, the glass he had deposited on his secretaire appearing in Jester's hand as he stood up. It was soon joined by a new set of clothes that replaced the old ones he had worn. Not many people were capable of space magic, even fewer knew how to use it to transport items from a storage skill onto their person.
Jester liked to be prepared, carrying various antidotes, weapons, and clothes in his [Dinsional Storage], ready to be used for any situation he could think of. Having to take them all out the usual way was simply not an option for him. If he needed a sword in his hand, he needed it
now , not a few seconds later.
His sword settled comfortably at his side, the weapon much more a symbol of their family’s power than an actual weapon. Jester knew how to use it, of course, but the yellow glow of its runes signalled to anyone that knew that it had a much better use than slicing his enemies apart.
Content that everything was in order, Jester turned to leave, having only co to his study to set in motion his plans. That he had to visit his father later that day caused his pace to briefly falter, but the man had made his own grave. Not sharing the news about his brother's death was a step too far, one that would cost them dearly, and required his removal.
Jester sighed as he opened the door to his main chamber, a slight touch of his mana disabling the enchantnts of the door. The room was as empty as he had left it — how he liked it — but the mories he was fond of in these chambers were not ones he wanted to think about at the mont.
Shaking his head he finished the drink in his hand, letting the glass vanish, and left for the main hall, expecting to find his mother there. She knew of so of his plans and undoubtedly would be inford by the Order of the planned assassination and, even if it would not be revealed, she would know he ordered it. At least, he thought so.
Elariya Vinmaier tapped her fingers on the large, dread-wood table, her eyes fixed on the pendant laying on it. The Order she had helped bring to glory had been ordered to remove her husband — a thought that did not sit quite right with her despite the fact that there was no love lost between the two.
They had married because their parents demanded it, and had the three children that were required to uphold their duties to their families. And, for the longest ti, she had been content to let Urol run the family and play his little gas in Ebenlowe. It let her slip by unnoticed, and helped rebuild the Order of Inaru to its forr glory.
But, once she had it up and running, she had wanted to leave Ebenlowe for greener pastures. The city-kingdom was a dead end as far as she was concerned. The [Guides] had it on lock-down, stopping any attempt at take-over in its tracks, but still Urol had made it his goal to stay here and take over the island their estate was on.
Her son, at least, had the loftier goal of taking the entire city. Sothing she still considered impossible, but at least more laudable than a dinky island. She herself just wanted to leave these cursed islands behind, especially now that an angry Goddess had made it her ho. One that very much disliked her way of living.
Thrice damned All-Mother…
Elariya did not follow any particular deity, only selecting ones that would benefit her in so way. She wanted to revive Inaru — the reason she had rebuilt the order — but that goal seed to move further out of reach each day. Especially now that the creator had returned and was very displeased with slavery.
Resurrecting a God of Slavery is sure to draw her ire…
That her other son had already offended her did not help, either. She did not want to be in the spotlight or in the sights of her enemies — even less so when that enemy was the strongest being on Verenier.
She shook her head at the mory of Kereman. He had been the youngest child, the one they had let get away with more things than his brother and sister. He had been a gifted fire mage, but Elariya doubted any magic a mortal could muster would help against the All-Mother.
Urol had tried to keep his death a secret. It was, to her, a stupid idea, and she had tried in vain to convince her husband of the sa. He had never truly listened, and for that she had allowed one of Jester's 'spies' to pass on the information. In a way, she had signed her husband's death warrant. Though the decision sat heavily on her conscience, she did not regret it. It would allow her to finally live her own life. Pursue her goals away from Ebenlowe and a potentially vengeful Goddess.
She let the pendant vanish into her storage as she felt her son enter the range of her aura. He did not need to know that all his requests to the Order were requests to her just yet.
Does he want to tell
Urol will die?
Elariya sighed, leaning back in her chair as she watched the door. Jester hesitated for a mont before he opened it, stepping into the main hall. Despite its na, everyone knew that it was
her
domain, and simply barging in would not end well.
"Mother," Jester said, slightly bowing his head. "I have sothing I need to tell you."
"I know what you did," she said, closing her eyes. "I will do my part when the ti cos."
She could feel Jester's breathing relax slightly at her words, thankful again for the boost in power she had received after achieving level two hundred fifty. It had furthered her aura's perception quite a lot, allowing her to pick up on cues that would have remained hidden to her before.
Her son directed his eyes at the floor, the decision to remove his father from the world probably weighing on him despite the ease with which he chose to make it. Elariya felt for Jester. He was still young, not yet fully inducted into the true world of the nobles.
"It was the right decision," she said, motioning for her son to take a seat. "He made his choice when he tried to keep Kereman's death a secret. Especially in tis like these, our family cannot appear weak. Losing our patron God already drew unwanted eyes towards us. Having a Goddess kill our son and then not saying anything only made it worse."
"Was there nothing you could have done?" Jester asked after a mont of silence. "I know that you figured out what happened to Kereman a lot sooner than I did."
Elariya shook her head in reply. "There are rules we have to follow. If
I
had announced the death of my son it would have been even worse. What Urol was thinking is not sothing I know. He could have simply said that Kereman perished in a dungeon and left it at that. Instead, he said nothing at all, trying to cover it up."
A silence settled over the two of them, Elariya thinking of how she could further her ultimate goal of bringing Inaru back or — even better — taking his place. She had not yet figured out what exactly she needed to do, but she knew she was close — could
feel
it in her soul.
The sounds of glasses hitting the table caused her to open her eyes. Her son was pouring two rounds of Seltrop, and a smile spread across her lips. She picked up her glass, raising it like Jester did.
"To a better future," he said.
"To a better future," she replied.
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