Altair's brow jumped. "The Crucible?"
Tasha pointed them out with his eyes. It was three of them, three n who seed to blend into the crowd with ease, each with different shadows of robes that masked everything but their muscular fra. Slowly, they drifted back into the crowd, vanishing between the vast amalgamation of auras, though not quick enough for Altair to notice them.
He touched his shoulder, where, despite the appearance of the Mark of Cain, he still felt its presence observing him, scrutinizing his every action. He wondered when Azura would call for him or if she'd ever call for him again after what occurred. He scuffed at the idea, tearing his awaze away before sending a Soul Whisper to the Commander.
Brakna shifted uncomfortably, relaying an order to one of the soldiers following behind before they arrived at the encampnt of amassing soldiers. He smiled when he found Count Kinvar in talk with seven Transcendence, Lordlings by the look of it.
"My Lord. I brought the Young Master."
Count Fremar Kinvar spun on his heel, that permanent scowl he held folding into a smile at the sight of Nox. He saluted as if he were welcoming the duke, followed by the other Seven. They all seed to carry that peculiar gleam that sought to scrutinize every detail, no matter how small, about the young master.
A smaller man might have folded, but Altair ignored their stairs, informing the Count of his n's arrival alongside the imperial carriage.
"I have no power to hold them for long," Lord Fremar admitted.
"It doesn't matter," Altair said coldly. He placed a friendly arm on the Count's shoulder. "All I require is for you and your n to kill the Vicounts Transcendence."
"Not capture?" Said Fremar darkly. "I would have thought you might have tried to earn their loyalty."
"What sort of loyalty can one have in the face of one's lineage being butchered?" Altair shook his head. "I ant what I said, Lord Fremar." he lowered his arm to his side, his gaze lifting towards the estate in the distance, shrouded by a growing mist. An Arcane formation, he knew.
"Then… Allow to secure you a team of guards, too—"
"Not necessary," Altair refused when screams of n echoed through the streets. He frowned, eyeing one of the mbers he'd pointed out to Brakna to secure for him.
"The Blackcloaks are trying to kill !" the Seventh Circle squealed, kicking and screaming. "Help ! Help !"
The throng of n and won began to whisper, with soldiers turning to face them, weapons preparing to be drawn.
"I've done nothing!" Corvon shouted, arms pinned behind his back. "I only ca to watch! To see news of the Young Master Nox!" when the whispers of n and won grew louder, he continued, "I'm innocent! I've never even t soone from House Vadica!"
Brakna slapped him backhand. "You'll be silent, boy!" the next slap sent blood spewing over the ground. "The Young Master, Nox would like a word."
Corvon went silent, though the people watching did not, shouting, 'release him' and 'bastard Blackcloaks' over one another.
Altair did not seem to understand until he asked Fremar, who explained that the Blackcloaks represented the n of the North, of all who supported House Nier. The count hadn't been sure who started calling the northern Blackcloaks, but after a thousand years, it was how they beca recognized.
"I see," the young master said, enlightened for a mont before a baleful smile crept across his face.
Corvon felt the small hairs on the back of his neck rise. Sothing about those athyst eyes of his seed to cut deep, seeing him for what he truly was. He shook his head, no, denying the possibility.
Altair signaled for the Blackcloak behind him to release him. Corvan dropped to his knee, feigning weakness to give the crowd a rise.
"What are you doing here?" Altair asked in a calming voice.
"I'm—"
"I'll ask once more, what are you doing here, bearer of the Mark." A faint glint of red shrieked like a fallen star from across the blacks of his eyes.
Corvan soon began to pant, a finger reaching up accusingly. "You! You! You're…" His voice trailed off as dread crept into his bones, down to the marrow. "Who are you!"
'So they do not know my identity yet,' Altair concluded, grateful Azura knew to keep her mouth shut. He gave him a sharp grin and said, "Your scent is overpowering."
"Y-Y-You can't kill ! Elder Grim forbids it!" he breathed, the words coming one after the other with more confidence. "You'll be killed if you—"
Altair needed only to snap for Corvan's mouth to ignite like a cavan of shadow flas spewing out in a tongue of flas. The squeal banished sound from the crowd and forced them to eat their words and taunts as they were made to stare. They watched Corvan flailing, his bare hands reaching up to touch the shadow flas, peeling charred flesh from bone.
It was a sickening sight that left a few puking while others covered their ears, unable to bear the wretched screams.
The flas lasted only a minute, yet that minute echoed across eternity. From jaw to nearly half, the upper right of his face revealed obsidian bones charred by flas.
"Tasha," Altair said. With a smile, the Lilm snapped her fingers, invoking a wall of silence around the two. "Do you know why it's called a Crucible?" he asked, squatting over the limp body of Corvan. "Where I co from, crucibles were used by gladiators or madn to create poisons. You throw one or two poisons in, let them fight it out, and see who survives. And then you rinse and repeat.
It was the sa for Gladiators."
If he could, Corvan would have gulped, but even that seed like a dream or, rather, a nightmare that he could not wish away.
"This is my ssage to Grim watching," Altair said, sliding 'Sarrin' from out its scabbard. The saber glead fire beneath the sun, illuminating the skies and earth. "I'll be sure to send your soul down to the Second Monarch, Lord of Hell." His lips curled up, and his blade sank down into Corvans throat.
Your journey continues on empire
Blood pulsed from around the blade's insition, pooling at his feet, as Corvan stared with his one good eye, pleading, then snapped sound reached up as Altair twisted the saber, snapping the spine.
[Corvan Felled. Exp Gain]
When the wall of Silence fell, he told Tasha to hang his Corvan's head on a pike for all to see before returning to the Count's side.
"A bit of private business," he said, smiling, though no one else had it in them to et his smile. "When will we siege the Estate?"
The Count gave an auspicious smile. "When your n arrive in an hour or two. It's most likely that so of the n and won are killing themselves lest they end up as slaves or whores. Nasty business it is to exterminate a family. Others are sure to try to escape. We'd need your n to make sure they don't."
"You needn't worry," Altair comforted, peering through the eyes of his shadows. "They'll be here within the hour. All we must do is wait."
Nia found her master with an arm pressed on the poml of his Sarrin. There was an army of n behind her as she waved to grab his attention. Her expression blossod when he turned to face her with a studying gaze.
"Master!" She galloped closer, hopping down her mare with a bright expression. "May The Tear of the Black Moon Pierce The Vale!" Alyssa and Therion echoed her words, falling to one knee.
They rosed when Altair signaled them to stand. "I have got a mission for you three," he said, exchanging a glance with Tasha, who, once again, laid down a Wall of Silence. The only thing the Count heard was the echo of, "May The Tear Of The Black Moon Pierce The Vale!" when the wall of silence fell.
'The Black Moon,' he thought, finding the re thought seed to send ripples across his mind, and before he knew it, the words faded from his consciousness as if it never existed.
"Get going then," Altair said.
With one final bow, the three flickered like shadows, leaving only Tasha by his side.
"Count Fremar, my n are yours to command."
"You're not going to lead us?" The very idea that Young Master, the Duke's Son, was not going to lead them into battle made those listening gasp.
"No," Altair confird. "I'm not so arrogant as to not recognize a battle hero like you and Commander Brakna. I will ride with my n to strike, but only under your or Brakna's command. A battle between Transcendence is surely different than what I can imagine."
Count Fremar seed to understand, though he would have preferred if the Young Master would have taken a bigger role like his title demanded. When he rembered the news of Nox De Nier's amnesia, he nodded almost instantly, now grateful.
"Then I'll have you with Captain Ian Vastnar."
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