Acacia Chronicle

Two days later, dawn at the outskirts of Fort Maria…

Now, it was there, so clear in the distance. Fort Maria, a cathedral and castle of equal measure, built by the ancients atop a massive outcrop of frozen earth that elevated it high above the lands like a heavenly sovereign looking upon its earthly domain. The roads from the nearby towns and villages had converged together into a single path leading up to its gates, leaving any and all visitors within range of the many battlements of the lower walls.

Atop a pale steed, Elena made her way up this very road paved in stone, ice, and snow. The horse she had commandeered from the Lightsworn stables back at the village of Light’s Edge had already died from exhaustion. She had forced it back up upon its hooves as a rotting skeleton of its former self to serve her in undeath, for only the undead were tireless enough to travel non-stop through dusk and dawn alike.

From the gates of Fort Maria, a convoy of humans and elves could be seen descending the same path she sought to ascend. There were devatas, Lightsworn guardsmen, peasants, and merchants – the villagers of Light’s Edge. It was like a funeral procession, with cries of anguish and sorrow rife in the air like snowflakes in the cold.

With a mere thought, Elena willed her skeletal steed to slow down. In silence, she watched on as the villagers moved, hoping to spot a beloved face among them. She was left wanting.

“Uh… hey, you’re that elven servant of Elicia, right?”

From atop her skeletal steed, Elena looked down. It was the Innkeeper of the village inn back at Light’s Edge, a portly man in silken finery. His children followed closely behind him, and as she gazed upon the fear in their eyes, she remembered the man’s wife who ran the tavern on the ground floor of the inn. She was nowhere to be seen.

“Yes, that’s right! I’d recognise eyes like yours, and those golden earrings! You were with that rather fetching young lady, and…”

“Where is she?”

“She’s…”

The Innkeeper pointed a trembling finger up at Fort Maria.

“She’s in there, with my wife! While you were away, our village was attacked by vampires, and Lady Eris came to our aid! But after that, she had us all come here… and now she won’t let all of us go… you have to help, please...”

“Return home with your children,” Elena stated coldly, her gaze unerring as she set it upon Fort Maria. “I’m gonna go in there and have a word with Eris.”

 

---

 

Later, at Fort Maria, on the way to the courtyard…

The cloister leading up to the castle courtyard was sheltered from the sun, its path paved lavishly with marble and granite. In the distance, screams and desperate pleas like despair manifest, could be heard from the gardens up ahead.

This, alongside thoughts of Claire, and the sight of Lightsworn soldiers standing in her way, did little to ease Elena’s nerves. The Lightsworn guardsmen at the castle gates had let her through without a fight. These ones, however, were unyielding.

“Move aside,” Elena stated, necromantic blight glowing feverishly upon her palm in shifting shades of black and green as tears of dust trickled slowly but surely from her crimson eyes. “I’d speak to your master.”

Her request was met with an array of burning staves, holy blades, and silver kite shields. Alongside the necromantic energies she had brought to bear upon the world, the holy and fire magic in the air was almost palpable. Like a symphony, of flames and death.

“Stand down, Lightsworn.”

It was a girlish voice, whimsical like a fairy’s flight and soft like a pillow. The Lightsworn sheathed their weapons and dutifully moved aside for a petite elven lady with yellow eyes, who was dressed immaculately in the white, purple, and gold regalia of the Central Church’s devatas, where the tresses of her blue hair could be seen slipping from under her hood. That, and from the sides of it, what appeared to Elena like a pair of elvish ears that had its edges clipped and bandaged into the likeliness of a human's ears.

“We’ve been expecting de L’Enfer’s arrival.”

Standing behind Eris, bearing a massive battleaxe, was a hulking figure who was as tall and as wide as the arches of the cloister. It was a Dullahan, a holy construct brought to life by the most potent magics of the Central Church. This one, in particular, Elena knew to bear the name of ‘Ser Kuarloc’, and it was far larger than any lesser Dullahan she had ever seen within the Lightsworn ranks. And like others of its kind, it was a walking frame of headless plate armour, glowing white and gold with the souls of fallen Lightsworn warriors that had been spared from Elicia’s Veil.

“Yes. Haven’t we, Ser Kuarloc?”

When Ser Kuarloc said nothing in reply, Eris turned around and embraced it. Her lips gently placed a kiss upon its armoured torso, while her gargantuan guardian remained steadfast and unmoving.

“I’m not in the mood to watch you make love to a suit of armour,” Elena barked, tears of dust rolling down her eyes anew. “You’ll have to do it some other time, eh?”

In response to that, the Lightsworn waiting by the side brandished their weapons anew. Ser Kuarloc joined in as well, letting out a mighty roar as it brandished its battleaxe and prepared to charge forward. Eris, on the other hand, remained unperturbed, merely throwing a forlorn glance in the direction of Elena’s scowl.

“We know what you’re here for, de L’Enfer,” Eris said, pacing her words slowly and deliberately. “We don’t wish to fight a fellow Vizier, especially one who has our Lady’s favour.”

“Good choice.”

“Yes, for both your sake and ours. Come with us, please.”

Cursing silently under her breath, Elena lowered her arm and dispelled her crimson sigil. When Eris looped around Ser Kuarloc, placing herself in the lead once more, Elena followed both her and her hulking guardian into the courtyard ahead.

 

---

 

A few minutes later, at the courtyard of Fort Maria…

It was a garden of glacial flora and snow-covered trees, meticulously maintained by the many servants who lived here in service of the Central Church. But today, amidst the flora and the light of the morning sun up above, there was blood upon the snow. There were executioners and devatas performing their duties to the dead and the dying, amidst the sight of blindfolded heads and headless bodies piled up bloodily like garbage to be set aflame.

“We checked every last villager of Light’s Edge. The diseased are weaker out here in the sun and in this holy place, you know?” Eris stated, pausing in her tracks with Ser Kuarloc by her side. “Not enough to kill them outright, but enough to render them helpless before the executioner’s axe.”

“What are you saying?” Elena demanded. “I think I know what’s going on, but I want to hear it from you.”

Eris walked up to the pile of severed heads. She chose one amidst the blood and gristle, holding its blindfolded visage out towards Elena like it was a cabbage from a market stall.

“Look closely, de L’Enfer.”

Elena remained silent, as Eris removed the blindfold placed upon the severed head. It was, coincidentally enough, the Innkeeper’s wife. Even in death, the woman’s eyes remained wide open, her irises bearing the pallid amber aura of vampirism.

“I take no joy in doing this, de L’Enfer,” Eris stated quietly, placing the head of the Innkeeper’s wife into the hands of a nearby devata, who quickly returned it to the pile. “Now, we have to burn the bodies, and sanctify the ground of their ashes and blood.”

“You didn’t go ahead and do it to her…” Elena stated, as she eyed the pile of severed heads. “The vampires, they got her as well, didn’t they?”

Without so much as a spoken word, Eris and Elena looked each other in the eye. Ser Kuarloc readied its battleaxe for a guillotine stroke upon the latter.

“You didn’t do it, or did you?”

“As per the Archon’s Privilege, I would never lay a hand upon another Vizier’s property.”

“Then you’d bring her to me, right now.”

“I don’t take too kindly to your tone, or your threats.”

Elena grit her teeth at Eris, whose serenity gave way to a grimace as she gestured for Ser Kuarloc to stand down.

“But of course, you shall see her. We won’t deny you, if that’s what you wish.”

Turning away from Elena, Eris looked towards the keep on the other end of the courtyard and signalled for her Lightsworn servants. From the sunless interior, they brought Claire de la Lune with them, kneeling her upon the ground as she shuddered uncontrollably under the light of the morning sun.

“Claire…”

For a moment, for what felt like the throes of eternity, Elena stood in stunned silence. On the road, she had prepared herself for it, braced her mind for all the possibilities and things she wanted to say and do. And yet, it all paled into nothing as she beheld the deathly paleness of Claire’s skin, and the beads of sweat glistening upon the bandages wrapped upon the arms and legs of her beloved.

“Elena…? Is… that you…?”

“Will you do it, de L’Enfer?” Eris asked Elena, as Ser Kuarloc readied its battleaxe, once more. “Her life is in your hands.”

“Elena…? Talk to me… please…? I… heard… screams… and it’s suddenly so very… warm…”

Wordlessly, Elena walked up to Claire, who looked up towards the sound of her mistress’s footsteps upon the snow. The Lightsworn soldiers around them dutifully stepped aside.

“C’mon, Claire. Let’s go.”

“Go…? Where…? It’s so hot here, I can’t feel…”

“Honestly, I don’t know,” Elena said as she knelt and placed Claire’s arm over her shoulders, helping her beloved back up upon her feet. “Anywhere but here, perhaps? I’m just glad you’re okay, and…”

“I don’t know why, but I don’t feel so good right now, I…”

“Claire!”

Elena’s eyes widened, as Claire fell limp upon her shoulders. Much to her relief, however, she could still feel her beloved's harried breaths warming themselves upon her skin.

“Don’t worry! I’ll just…”

“I have a room where you may remain with her, de L’Enfer,” Eris said, signalling once more for her servants. “It was where she was kept until you arrived. For her sake, the both of you should stay there, away from the sun.”

Elena paused in her tracks, the gaze of her crimson eyes placed upon both Eris and Ser Kuarloc.

“You heard me, de L’Enfer. Your ears don’t deceive you.”

“Right. I, uh, thought so. Thank you,” Elena said with a solemn nod. “I’ll say, I didn’t expect this, after my bad manners…”

With Ser Kuarloc by her side, Eris shook her head.

“You’re a Lich, de L’Enfer. But you are an ally to the Lightsworn. Like I said, I sense our Lady’s favour upon you. And for how you dealt with Solus, you have mine as well.”

Elena nodded. Ser Solus de Sina, or Orcus, as he had come to be known in his genocidal campaign against the elves and his quest to re-create the Blood Shield of Sophia, was indeed slain by her actions. It was an act performed far too late, save for one Isha Ayan whose form now embodied the Blood Shield. But at least, what needed to be done back then and there, had been done.

“My only regret,” Eris stated, pressing a hand upon the clipped flesh of her elvish ear. “Is that Ser Kuarloc and I were not there to execute him ourselves.”

“It’s as good a reason as any, I suppose…” Elena said in reply, before following Eris’s servants into the sheltered cloister with Claire resting upon her shoulders. “Bastard had it coming many times over, if you ask me.”