The Unseen Road

Chapter Twelve

Three months passed since Agrelind had received its three new residents- four, including Lightquill- and the war had begun to take a new path.

They were not completely unaware of it, either. During the day, while the sisters, Kylie and Celeste, would train with their beginners' class, they would overhear news concerning new advances from Dryria, which apparently hadn't been a concern prior to their arrival. And, more unsettlingly, they would hear murmuring of it all having to do with themselves, and with the burning down of the Woodland Village of Glenia. They pretended to be oblivious to the gossip, though, because they couldn't comprehend why they could- or should- ever be blamed as the cause.

Prince Nicolas Brightam, however, was far from oblivious to these goings-on within the city, and knew full well of what- or, who- was truly to blame. Wearing a mid-length dark green cloak with its hood drawn up, he slipped out of his quarters and began his descent down the stairs to exit the castle.

Jeanne met him at the landing. "Where are you going, sir, leaving out the back like this?" she asked. "Shall I fetch your horse?"

"No, thank you," Nicolas replied, throwing down his hood as to not make the young attendant suspicious or worried. "I have been told to meet some... acquaintances by the back gates. Then I have another meeting with someone else."

"The back gates?" Jeanne asked. "Nobody is allowed to use those except for you and other officers..."

"It is more secret that way, Jeanne. You must recognize the condition the war is in right now. We cannot afford to worry our citizens." He sighed. "Please, do not ask any more. I won't be gone long."

"O-oh!" the servant's eyes widened, and then she bowed clumsily. "Yes, of course, my lord. My apologies. Do be careful."

Nicolas nodded, and passed his attendant without a word. His benign countenance was glossed over by an expressionless mask to face his unwanted visitors.

The back gates came into view. Farther up the path, which was lined by thorn-bushes and an open field on either side, they stood dark and rusted, looking rather commonplace beneath the cloudy sky. Years of disuse- save for clandestine affairs such as this- left little reason for them to be maintained.

A light, misty drizzle silently permeated the air. Thunder rumbled in the distance beyond two cloaked figures who stood behind the gateway, their features concealed by the shadows of their dark hoods.

Nicolas did not bother walking up to the gates, but instead stopped where he was. "Why are you here again, Bion?" he demanded across the distance between them, jaw clenching as his eyes scanned the smaller figure. "... And this time bringing someone new with you."

A deep voice came in reply from under the taller figure's hood. "Come, now. Let's not play these games. You know what I'm here for."

"If I truly thought myself to be playing, I would be laughing," the Prince retorted. "Tell me or be sent away by my top-ranking generals, Dryrian filth." He positioned his hand upon the hilt of his sword.

"General Bion—" the stranger started in a soft, feminine voice. But Bion raised his hand to silence her.

"I simply want to make you aware of the course of the war," General Bion told the Prince in his dark, baritone voice, taking down his hood to reveal his face. "It seems we have a good chance of winning- I will not tell you how, or why. We are recruiting promising soldiers. Give up now."

"So are we. Now get away before I regret meeting you here, and you find each and every one of your new soldiers dead."

Bion chuckled. "You didn't even give me a chance to present you with one of them," he said. "Let me at least do that. No bloodshed needed... today." The Vampire then rose his voice as he addressed his companion, as if he meant for Nicolas to pay every attention. "Beatrice. Introduce yourself."