Chapter Twenty-Five: Optimism
Mors illis qui laeserunt nos, Monty had been searching the entire library for a dictionary to translate the words.
He’d never learnt the language of the Fae as many others had, he thought there’d never be a need for him to know it but lately, he’d been proved wrong.
The language derived from the Fae but most of the human population learnt it, when coexistence existed and carried it on through the centuries, even now there was little of the population that didn’t speak both languages.
It was a form of coexistence in a way and yet he was part of the small percentage that spoke one language only but strived for coexistence.
Monty had been trying to hold off thinking about Nathan, he’d called the nurse when Nathan had stopped breathing as he moved his lifeless body to the floor to conduct CPR.
He let the nurse take over as he was forced out of the room by others that followed, so he thought with nothing else to do he’d look for answers.
Nerina entered through the double doors in a flurry of fabrics, blue and silvers swishing around her as she headed straight for Monty, lines of worry marking her forehead.
Slamming the book forcefully back into it’s place, he bowed his head keeping his eyes closed with frustration as he tried calming his racing mind.
“What happened?” she asked with a calming tone.
“Nathan was conscious, but not. He sat up but it wasn’t him, his eyes were black and he said these words that I don’t understand. I don’t think he’s alive”
“Have you forgotten what I have told you already?”
“What was it I told you?” she half asked and half demanded.
“To be optimistic” he replied in the least upbeat and optimistic tone possible.
“So why is it, you are defying a direct order from the Leader of Salatia’s High Council?”
Monty surveyed her, slightly taken aback by her question, nevertheless he relaxed just a little at the lack of anger and seriousness on her features.
“Can you translate it?”
“Of course, it is required for all Leader of the High Councils as well as the other members to speak both languages of the humans and the Fae. But I will need a favour fulfilled in return”
“Deal, what’s the job?”
“What is it that you need translating first?” she asked.
As best as he could without speaking the language, he recited the words from Nathan, although his pronunciation was a little off “Mors illis qui laeserunt nos”
Listening carefully to the words, her eyes flitting form side to side as if reading from a book, she looked back into Monty’s eyes “Death to those who have wronged us” she translated without a hint of mockery of his pronunciation.
“Who could us be?”
“That, I do not know” she replied thoughtfully.
“Well until we can find an answer, the other problem needs to be taken care of”
“The job I wish for you to complete is that which I set Fraya, Nathan and yourself. Shut off the water supply and in return I will attempt to answer this mystery. I shall call upon volunteers to assist you into the caverns” she assured him.
“No one will willingly go down there after what happened to Nathan”
“We shall see” she said with grace and knowledge.
“Are you going to lie to your own people and leave out the attack of the creatures?”
“I do not lie to my people, nor do I withhold information. They have as much of a right to know as my council and I do. I shall gather those willing to listen, I expect to see you outside soon, in the meantime, visit your friend”
Opening his mouth to reply he silently stuttered over his words, they didn’t feel right to say aloud and so his lips spoke something else “I don’t think I can” he said hesitantly.
Sympathy was what Nerina showed him, graceful sympathy as she spoke in a voice that mimicked the golden, summer sun.
“The group you are part of, the Ravens if I am not mistaken, you are close, are you not?”
“Some of us, yes. But I’m not that close to many of them”
“Yet you care for this boy?”
“Just because I’m not close to him, doesn’t mean I won’t be hurt if he dies” he responded, choking on his last word as the worst scenario prodded his mind.
“Of course not, although groups often have deeper connections. Families, for example, especially those made of people like yourself and Nathan, they hold a connection that does not show on the surface but instead holds its own deeper within”
“We’re not a family, but I still feel empathy for those around me, whether I know them well or not. The entire reason I joined the Ravens was to survive, as well as the help people and I still plan to do both.”
Nodding with understanding, the movement freeing a few silvery strands that had been tucked behind her peaked ear “While you are gone, I will personally keep a close eye on Nathan as well as seeing to it that Kyril divulges everything he has discovered so far”
“Thank you my Lady” he said, other words playing on his lips to which she picked up on and stayed silent for him to continue.
“I have no right to ask for a favour, but it’s for Nathan”
“What is it you wish to ask?”
“Could you contact Nathan’s parents? They live in Millturn City. And if it isn’t too much to ask could you try and get a hold of his sisters, they live in Ashrise City. I don’t know much about their relationships, but I think they should know, just in case”
“There is a fine line between pessimism and preparation and you are stumbling along it Monty Blackwood. I shall honour your requests but in return you much keep a positive outlook, specially when Nathan spoke such a word of worry”
“Alright, I promise.” he said backing away before swiftly turning mid-jog and sprinting in the direction of the medical wing.
* * *
Horatio Moore, standing before the drawn curtain of the living room window with nothing but a slither of a gap to peer out of into the outside world, gently bounced and rocked baby Tollen in his arms.
He was expecting company soon but it didn’t stop him setting up protections at each window and door, afterall, one could never be too careful.
News of Bregan’s downfall had spread fast and so had whispers of a blue angel, one that burned bright and slayed everything placed before it.
Sometimes, rumours were just that, but nevertheless, he had a lot to protect now that exceeded just himself.
Dropping his gaze to the sleeping child in the bundle of blankets, he caught the subtle to he and Braylen, even Jeanove, both her sons followed he beauty and would no doubt follow with her splendid poise.
The babies growing dark locks were uncanny to Braylen’s, but he was pleased to see most of everything else took after himself, a mini him, minus his one blind eye.
Regret sometimes found him and made him wish things could have ended differently, but then he looked to his son and everything became clear, no one would take him away from him, they could damn well try but they wouldn’t get very far.
His gaze fell further, past Tollen and to the desk, papers Bregan had torn from the book of rituals, stolen from Evangelis, lay out in the open.
One spoke of enhancing magic through a ritual cast upon a weapon, the weapon could then be used on a subject, it had the same premise as filling a needle and injecting a subject with it.
He supposed Bregan would have used it on himself, not that he could have sustained any more power than the stone offered him, he was at his limit already without any extra magic in his body.
The other that he could see and had read through, before he got bored, spoke of making one compliant with the ritual caster, which wasn’t at all surprising with what Bregan wanted for the world.
Bregan didn’t want to die or leave the world behind, he wished to eradicate the Fae despite him being a part of them, so that he could rule over the humans.
He saw the humans as easier to control and he believed e was the only one that could lead them, on the King’s throne of course.
Being the closest to the delusional man, Horatio had been automatically entrusted with the papers, although, the man with all his knowledge and plans, apparently hadn’t thought about leaving instructions on the situation.
Horatio’s feet padded through the two story house, he’d owned it for years now despite not having spent too much time inside it because of his occupation.
Yet, every room felt familiar, he didn’t have to think, let alone look where he was going to get around, each turn and each step had become muscle memory.
It was relatively close to the city, it sat in a cul-de-sac surrounded by other residents which he knew well, some of which he’d grown up alongside.
Everything had changed know of course, not one of the people he used to know would approach him now if they could, many couldn’t even glance in his homes general direction.
It was because they all knew what he did and despite them being private people, who minded their own business most of the time, they put more average space between themselves and his home, a few even going as far as to cross the street.
None, however, knew that he was back so it was amusing to observe the way they acted, he felt like a ghost watching on, as the world passed by, with no exact purpose.
Reaching the spare room he’d converted into a nursery, he placed Tollen down and delicately tucked him into the Moses basket.
The room with it’s monotone theme, not a nurseries usual bright and uplifting colours, appeared a lot darker to the eyes as he blocked the glorious sun out with the blind and curtain.
It was all he could do for now, besides it wasn’t as though Tollen would care or understand the difference between interior design and décor.
The guest he was awaiting had been given very strict instructions on how to approach the house, he couldn’t risk being seen and having authorities called, not when the plans in place were so important.
Switching on the nightlight that cast starts on the ceiling of the dim room, as well as the baby monitor that fed through to his office, he exited the room with quiet steps.
The house was so silent, it always had been but even with Tollen upstairs it felt empty, not that it bothered him after hearing battles and war for so long, peace and quiet was welcomed now and then.
Nearing his office door, his ears caught hold of a noise towards the back of the house near the kitchen, he hadn’t heard one of his traps go off and so cautiously, he collected his trusty pistol off of the bookcase, it’s grip sitting perfectly in his hand as he warily followed the noise.
On passing the living room, his eyes peered inside sweeping over the open floor as his ears listened out for movement, but with no sign of life showing and no footprints left on the cream carpets as he continued forward.
Horatio slowed his steps more as he rounded the corner to the kitchen, his feet trod into the open plan dining room and he was close to moving again when an unexpected, sharp object prodded his spine.
“I thought you were supposed to be well trained” Annalise mocked from behind him.
“You’re like a cat” he joked in return.
“I hope that’s a compliment, let’s remember who is at the disadvantage here”
“Of course, I would never insult a lady” he teased.
Rolling her eyes she huffed “Sure, because it wasn’t you that murdered Braylen”.
“Well that was an impulsive event”
“It’s good to see you again Horatio” she said lowering the two-pronged carving fork which he analysed on turning around.
“It’s good to see you too, Annalise”
Stealing a grape from the fruit bowl and popping it into her mouth, she turned back to him, her back leaning against the counter, the fork now discarded to the side and forgotten.
“So why did you ask me here exactly? I thought we had a plan already?”
Taking the lead out of the kitchen, silently calling her to follow with the wave of his hand, he replied “I have pages from the book Bregan destroyed. I know they’re important and that he had a plan for them, but he didn’t exactly specify what. I was hoping you might now”
“I don’t know what he had in mind, but I have a plan of my own that would make him proud” she suggested.
“What might that be?”
Her eyes cast to the papers on the desk, her finger soon planted itself onto one.
“We exploit the power of someone powerful”
“Well there’s plenty of choices. That freaky lady with the red eyes or her weird, snaky son, then there’s that portal making lady who barely ever speaks but follows the others around. Take your pick”
“How about the blue angel?” she asks with a raised brow and crossed arms.
“I’ve heard of him”
“Then you already know our target”
“Actually, I’ve only heard rumour, this blue angel is just whispers to me” he admitted, kicking his feet onto the desk to which Annalise quickly cleared of the papers he feet nearly settle on.
“Well I’m telling you now that you know him. His name is Kaydence Harkhallow or Banshaw, take your pick of his last name”
“The broken-winged blondy? I didn’t see that coming, clearly I missed all of the fun”
“Oh hush would you, this is important so listen” she scorned him with an added glare, her eyes made brighter by the black eyeliner causing the gesture to seem even more frightening.
“Why are we using him instead of the others that actually have magic?”
“The bond between him and that other Fae, with the purple eyes, Mayfel Kierser, is strong”
“So he’s a little magical. Won’t using this ritual only make him more powerful? It doesn’t sound like it’d be in favour of our work” he noted.
“Or, perhaps with it amplified, it’ll be too much”
“And kills him and that other guy? That doesn’t sound like something Bregan would have been proud of”
“Expect a fireworks show”