"Attachment is the great fabricator of illusions; reality can be obtained only by someone who is detached." ― Simone Weil
Lord Caith's proposition gallops through my thoughts as I make my way back to the castle. My resolution to be on time for dinner is aided by my dress still being in pristine condition.
I slow down when I approach the main hall and take a moment to steady my breath. The members of the Orders that eat in the main hall are weaving into it. When they see me, they step out of the way and allow me to unravel a path to the main table.
I sigh gratefully when I see that my brothers and their wives haven't yet arrived, but all the other diners for the main table have gathered. Lord Caith and Elarok Ologul stand at the bottom of the stairs - deep in conversation. Lord Korr and Lord Riann are already seated and arguing vehemently about something. I do not even have to decide which conversation I would rather join, but luckily my brothers and their wives arrive.
Dinner passes without any noteworthy gossip, except that elarok Ologul is now speaking at length, but only to lord Caith. They are engrossed in their own conversation and oblivious to the rest of the company.
Then Lord Caith falls silent in the middle of his sentence. He and Elarok Ologul fix their eyes on the space in the middle of the hall and they stand up. The other skados stand up simultaneously.
A second later the Third One materialises in the centre of the hall.
Everyone still seated scampers to their feet, and the silence that follows reverberates through the hall.
I have never seen her before, but I recognise her from all the descriptions and depictions I have seen in Raven's Peak, Ligeia, and Inwir City. In contrary to what I thought previously, the large raised red circular marking over her left eye accentuates her otherworldly beauty by providing a hideousness to compare it to. The unsightly scar also provides a resolution to her features that one dares not to cross.
She walks to us.
She is dressed in an unpretentious black dress with its tail that dragging on the ground – its silence when dragging against the floor unnatural. Her straight silky silver hair forms an ocean around her head and reaches her hips.
Elarok Ologul's fruity voice is the first to penetrate the silence. He bows down and almost kisses the floor.
"My lady, Zoe Pherenike, I greet you. I am your servant."
Everyone else bows down.
"Lord Commander of the Second Order, you can sit down. It is an insult to my brother to bow down to me," her modulated but penetrating voice rings through the hall.
I cannot see what lord Caith does, but I can hear a chair clawing across the stone floor.
'You may all rise.'
Everyone retreats from their bows.
I'm surprised to see that she is within a silent sigh from us. I did not hear any footsteps. I quickly peek at Claira who shares my astonishment.
I study her as she ascends the platform's stairs. Her eyes are thunder clouds. I can see the sparks of lightning frying behind them. She emanates cool energy - darker than that of night. She is beautiful, but she is even more unreachable and distant than Lady Katharina. She seems to be devoid of any emotion – not for lacking them, but due to her mastery over the trivial temporal. She scares me, but not due to malevolence.
Her eyes pierce his red ones: "Ologul, are you worthy of being my servant?"
"I have taken the most lives; more than any of my kind."
"Good. You will have to do more killing before this war is over."
He makes a deep gurgling sound that moves up from his stomach to his throat. If he was a cat, the sound might qualify as a purr.
"You can all sit when I have a chair."
"Chair!" Ologul growls to two skados.
They rush out of the hall and return with a luxurious chair. I think it is from the Map Room. They find us still in deadly silence. They place the chair on the opposite side of the table, but not in the middle. The chair is opposite lord Caith and Elarok Ologul. And me.
I was stupid enough to think that sitting next to lord Caith would be a good idea.
She takes her seat. My brothers and Lord Caith are the first to take their seats. We follow their cue.
"What is your name, representative of my brother?"
"Caith."
She looks at everyone else dismissively as a ruler acquainted with her subjects: "I know your names."
She returns her gaze to Caith.
"My arrival interrupted you."
He smiles: "It was at the right time, but yes. I was telling Elarok Ologul about bread. He has been wondering what it was since his arrival."
The Third One looks at lord Caith. I think her eyes light up for a moment, but I might be mistaken.
"Of course! And Ologul, do you now understand why you do not know what it is?"
"Yes, my lady. The mere thought of it nauseates me."
I do not know why he feels like that about bread. I wonder what skados eat if they do not eat bread. There is nothing as delicious as fresh bread. I am not going to make a futile attempt to describe my love of fresh bread. Words won't do it justice. It will only diminish and taint the loveliness of bread.
Firstly, there is that sweet, warm smell. Then when you break the hot loaf in two and the steam still dances away from the bread. When you break it, the halves still stick together until you tear it away. Then you eat the bread. It is soft and moulds into the shape of your mouth. The taste is sweet and delicious.
As I said, my description won't do it justice.
"My lady, if I might ask, to what do we owe the honour of your company?" Ferdaid asks. I doubt anyone other than Friduric and I heard the begrudging tone in his voice. It is obvious to me that he does not appreciate the Council stepping in to fulfil their duties.
My brothers hide their disdain for the Council well from everybody except me – even my father thought I was oblivious to his convictions. They don't approve of a handful of beings being in charge of races that they themselves are not a part of, especially for eternity. I have never pointed out to them that they are advocates of the same concept. I think they might just be jealous of the powers that the Council Members have, and they do not. I am quite neutral in my worship of the Council. They were born human millennia ago, and I see the need for a sovereign body to ensure the balance between the races.
"I thought I would pay a visit to those fighting next to my skados - those protecting the land we all live in, but this is not a conversation for the dinner table. It should be continued in private."
"We have finished our meal. We can retreat to the Map Room," Friduric says diplomatically.
"That would be ideal."
With a single gesture from Ferdaid, the whole company rises and exits.
I remain seated at the table. Katharina and Claira also leave. I re-evaluate my decision to stay and follow the party out of the door a few seconds later.
On my way to my room, I decide to take a detour.
The appearance of Zoe Pherenike is troubling. The Council prefers to not get involved with races other than their own. Some of them barely appear to their own peoples. I am achingly curious to know what she has to say to my brothers and the others in command.
I slip into one of the side rooms. I peek into the hallway. No-one is in sight. I walk to the wall where I know the entrance to the hidden paths in the walls is. Raven's Peak is a maze of secret entrances and caves and there is a whole world between the walls.
There are quite a few entrances, but this one is nearest to me. I know exactly where the symbol that I am looking for is. I trace it with my finger.
Without a sound, a hole opens in the wall.
I don't necessarily believe in magic, but this isn't the type of magic I am referring to. This is just the way that all secret entrances and doorways work. They are tuned to the touch of a specific person or a bloodline. I don't know how the physics and mechanics fit together. My father never explained it to me. It is something I accepted without question.
When you are in the walls, you can hear everything on the outside, but no-one could ever hear you, even if you shouted. I tried shouting in the wall the moment my father told me about this, but no sound even came out of my mouth.
"King Friduric, tell me about this war."
"My lady, it has been going on for about a year," Friduric starts to say.
"I know how long it has been going on. I need to know where we stand."
"We are winning. We have sent adequate troops against Darkeland, and we always return victorious. We have numerous spies in Darkeland."
I don't believe Ferdaid. I don't think we are winning. I didn't know about the spies though.
"My sources said that your spies haven't returned."
Lord Caith?
Definitely. No one has that same ring of confidence in their voice.
"Your sources are correct, but they haven't been ordered to return."
Friduric's tone is begrudging.
"What is your plan?"
"What are you referring to, my lady?"
"How do you plan to win this war?"
"We have an excellent strategy being executed as we speak."
This is news.
"We had to wait for the Second Order to arrive before we could initiate it."
"Tell me."
"My lady, if you don't mind me interrupting you, but elarok Ologul will tell you all about it later tonight. I have some other business to attend to, and the King still has to write some orders and sign them before midnight."
Lord Caith just interrupted the Third One! An image of him crumbling under her gaze puts a giggle in my mouth
"I also do not think that we are quite as alone as we might think. There is someone listening in."
I gasp.
How could he possibly know about me?
"I will trust the voice of my brother."
"Thank you, my lady."
"Elarok Ologul, accompany me for a stroll."
I can hear people scuffling out of the room.