aamon paxley X o.c. • the duke and the runaway

13.

"Your grace? I have a letter for you."

Aamon looked up from his book and discovered his messenger holding a letter on a small silver receptacle. He nodded to him, gesturing his brown-clad courier to give him the said letter.

"And who sent this?" The man inquired.

"It is anonymous, sir. I found it outside the palace gates, pinned on a wall. Someone must've put it there for you to read since there is an emblem of the house." He answered plainly and the duke bobbed his head in understanding, his brows furrowed at the sight of the unknown letter.

"Alright. You may take your leave," he curtly replied to him, his reserved composure focused on the enveloped paper before him. The messenger bowed his head and hastily exited the office, leaving the male to his own doing.

He opened the letter by plucking the red stamp off its center spot. Then he carefully fished out the folded sheet from its papery case. He scrunched his nose when a scent of a rusty metallic smell flew to his nose and narrowed his eyes when he realized that the letter has been soaked heavily in blood.

He unconcealed the contents and looked puzzled at the language within it. It was full of blasphemies that he didn't thought he would see. It contained all sorts of disrespect and irreverence. However, there was something veiled within those texts.

Then realization dawned upon him as he got off his chair and headed to another part of his office. He walked up towards a shelf and pulled out a specific book, just slightly as to not pick it out of its place then he stepped back. The mahogany shelf slowly moved to the right, revealing another door in the color of dark brown. There was an empty space on its center where something should be placed in.

Aamon held out his right palm and enchanted mana emitted from his hand. Iridescent blue light intrically formed a singular shard and it floated towards the door. It slotted itself in the missing spot and the door swung open.

Bringing the blood-red letter, he entered his secret study as the door behind him locked and the sound of the moving shelf followed its suit.

His orifices was greeted with the sight of ancient books, texts and scrolls displayed on the shelfs and on the tables. He flicked his fingers and illuminated a candlelight at the corner of a tinted grey window. Then he settled down on the desk, placing the letter on its smooth surface.

Aamon plucked out a specific book. The reading material bounded in a black leather and steel cover, a strap shutting it tight as if it was prohibited to read its contents. He carefully unlocked it with his magic and flipped the pages to a certain chapter.

It was the language used by the orcs and demons below them.

The male deciphered the words one by one, with every new-found meaning learned in the blood-drenched letter. It appears to him that this letter possessed the Whispers of the Abyss that only people who associated themselves with devils or the devils themselves.

It contained directions to a certain abandoned castle in an eerie place in Aberleen. Aamon recognized this area, he have heard of it from his late father, the former duke and realized that this was the castle that their mage ancestor had built.

He knew it existed through the scrolls and books that he have read but he never thought that he would receive directions towards its location.

This castle was built for something dark, a place where some secrets of the prophecy were held.

Then there were words:

I have to warn you, perhaps you're searching for a secret that has been kept from mortals.