literature

Corpus Vitae - Part 3

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Upon a piece of parchment headed with a fragrant wax seal was written:

The Right Honourable Crispin Samuel, Lord Lapidoth cordially invites ............................... to dinner at Rustavon Park, Western Ithmia tonight at dusk.


It was written with black ink: the neat, flowing script meandering elegantly across the surface. Crispin picked up a quill, loaded it and slowly wrote in the gap, 'Lady Eleanor Shelley'.

His quill trembled.

Then, without warning he immediately crossed out the name, took another invitation parchment and wrote down in the space, 'Lady Mary Lapidoth'.

If found out by any of the old Ashtanite revolutionaries, which was very unlikely, Crispin would probably have been sentenced to death by beheading. However, in these modern times, people did not care too much about hereditary titles. Most of the time it was just to show off, and half of the people who sported extravagant titles had uplifted themselves into high society with counterfeit names. The Lapidoths, however, could never be too careful, but Crispin did not want to drop standards.

"Invitations?" spoke the questioning voice of Algernon Severn. He had walked over to the Druid's writing desk and was peering over his shoulder surreptitiously.

"I have decided to hold a dinner here tonight," answered Crispin coolly, "and I am in the process of sending out invitations to certain personages of my acquaintance."

"'Sir Malory Lockstock and Agnes, Lady Lockstock'..." Algernon read from one. "You can't be serious about holding a dinner tonight of all nights?"

Crispin looked up from his writing. "I know not of any reason why it cannot be tonight."

"We are going down to the cave, remember? The death logs?"

The Druid rolled his eyes. "I have to sort out the catering, the seating plan - you cannot assume that I will have time to spare to do your trivial things, dear boy."

Algernon looked straight at the Druid. "An entire town has been destroyed. What if it carries on? Thera, Delos, perhaps even Ashtan, Shallam, Hashan - the cities and perhaps the forest. And all you care about is your little dinner party?"

The Druid paused.

"See?"

Crispin thought a little. If it was true that what was happening was in fact spreading like a plague (as he still was a little sceptical about the whole thing despite the evidence), then Nature came first. In his profession as a Druid, it was always work before pleasure. That was probably the only thing that Crispin regretted. Having been brought up in a world of dinner parties, soirées and coats with tails, he somehow always tried to find time to have at least one dinner party every week.

"I suppose I could fit some time in after dawn today," spoke the Druid quietly.

"Good." Algernon picked up the pile of invitations and rifled through them. His expression morphed from serious to utter glee as he glanced over a few.

"You can't be serious about inviting Reggie d'Alony, Crispin?" he scoffed, looking at one.

Crispin Lapidoth peered up at the Sorcerer. "Reginald d'Alony-Buckburn is one of the most important people in Hashan city. It would be exceedingly improper to not have him there."

"But everyone knows that he's a dreadful old bore and his wife had an affair with Lord Lapi... oh."

The Druid glared emotionlessly at Algernon. "A mere rumour, caused by the filthy sewer rats in the Achaean Public Post who believe that by dirtying my father's name they can get more money that way. I happen to know that Mrs. d'Alony-Buckburn is happily married to old Reggie and quite comfortable sitting in that chair."

"But that's not all that she's doing in the chair..."

"ALGERNON!"

The Sorcerer bit his lip to prevent himself from bursting into reams of laughter. "Oh, come, come, Crispin! Just admit that you love the publicity. That time when you were discovered..." His eyes fell on the wasted invitation, and he picked it up.

"You've got to admit, Crispin," he said, "you were like a celebrity then. You absorbed the publicity with adulation. I remember it quite well."

The Druid said nothing.

"Not inviting her?"

"There is no need to."

"A pity, that is," Algernon replied solumnly, replacing the invitation. "You and dear Ellie were quite the little couple. In those circumstances back then, it was scandalous... you sneaking out at night to see her... her being engaged to be married to the Vizier of Shallam's son..."

Crispin held his hand up to prevent the entire contents of his private life flooding out. "I was 8 years old at the time! Besides, it is irrelevant. She will not be invited."

"Well, sir, if you are inviting your sister, something which would deeply affect me, then I think that it would only be fair to invite Eleanor Shelley."

"That is a ridiculous idea! I am inviting Mary because she is a relation and not your ex-fiancée. And besides, who said that I was inviting you anyway?"

Out of a pocket, Algernon pulled out a piece of parchment and showed it to him. Crispin blinked.

It was his handwriting, his ink, his paper. Then it dawned on him.

"The Right Honourable Crispin Samuel, Lord Lapidoth cordially invites the Rt. Honourable Algernon Severn to dinner at Rustavon Park, Western Ithmia tonight at dusk," read Algernon. "I received this straight from your valet's hand. Of course, I accept."

That was how he was invited. With the first batch of invitations he had given to his valet. There was nothing he could do about it now.

"You know you want to invite her, Lapidoth," spoke Algernon.

His mind pummelled negative emotions into him. However, Crispin's heart burned with fiery passion at the memory of his love affair from last year. Torn between two opposite feelings, he pondered. Then he picked up the quill, took another invitation, and slowly wrote in the gap, 'Lady Eleanor Shelley'.

"And let it stop at that," he concluded, blotting the words and adding them to the pile. "Percy?" he called authoritively.

From the shadows strode a tall man, obviously trained to keep his face drained of all emotion. This was Crispin's valet.

"Deliver these to the respective people stated on the front," ordered the Druid, passing him the completed invitations on a silver platter.

"Very good, my Lordship." The valet turned on his heel and vanished.

"He's very trustworthy," added Crispin, putting away his writing implements. "Are those the birds I can hear, singing the entrance of the dawn? We should leave at once. I must return and sort out the seating arrangements as soon as I can. Come along, Algy, we must leave... where is that boy now?" He wandered off out of the room, murmuring rhetorical questions and statements to himself.

Algernon merely grinned. He loved dinner parties.

***************************
"Hurry on, hurry on, we must return as soon as possible!"

Crispin was ushering the Sorcerer and Karunkin along like a father telling his children to come home quickly. They were wandering through a grove of sycamore trees within the Western Ithmia Forest to find the cave, where those who were said to have received salvation after death were undoubtedly found in a rather confused state. It was actually more likely that they were drunk, and whilst in their intoxicated stupor, had wandered undirected to that cave and spent the night there. Several recorded hallucinations of walking down a corridor with tapestries hanging on the wall, their life flashing before their eyes, and even visions of cowering within the folds of the Logos' palm. However, there were also those who were notorious for engaging in the use of a narcotic of some sort, and their claims were dismissed as ridiculous.

Though Crispin Lapidoth owned a large country estate in close proximity to the cave itself, he had never ventured there himself. It was true that he had an idea of the location of this sacred spot, but his judgement was as blind as a bayberry plant.

"Sycamore trees," he murmured, passing his hand over the bark of one. "Getting there now!" he told the others.

Karunkin let out a little squeak as he shifted the bag carrying supplies over his back. He was not used to the forestal conditions, finding the snow exceptionally difficult to handle. On the other hand, the Sorcerer merely looked on as Crispin wandered aimlessly about the place, trying to 'sniff' out the cave.

Finally the Druid stopped. He waved the others over vigorously and indicated the thing that they had been searching for.

Quite out of place from the greenery that bitterly clung to it, the cave was, on the whole, unimpressive. In fact, it seemed to look as if someone had got hold of a large sledgehammer and attacked the rocky wall it was in for a completely futile reason. The expression upon Crispin's face was one of dismay: not that the rumours about the cave were untrue, but that somebody had made a poor attempt at landscape gardening, planting sweet honeysuckle over the top and someplace else (for his nose was very adroit) some kind of mint plant.

Algernon took out a candle from somewhere within the bags piled on the page boy, and lit it. He stepped cautiously into the gloom of the cave, scrutinising every single nook and cranny. Crispin followed on, and finally, after a little coaxing, came Karunkin.

"This is the log," spoke the Sorcerer, taking up a weathered-looking tome from a niche in the wall. He skimmed through its pages. "Perhaps we could find some answers here."

"Quick and easy, quick and easy," mumbled Crispin, glancing at his pocketwatch every second or so. "Yes, old boy, I should agree." He peered at the pages inquisitively.

"The last entry here was made on the 15th of Scarlatan," declared the Sorcerer. He  sighed heavily, closing the tome with a deft flick of his wrist and replacing it. "Long before the happenings at El'Jazira. And there were no entries from El'Jazirans there since last year, when someone got savagely mauled by a marauding pelican."

"Well, nothing here then. Let us go back now, eh?"

Algernon sucked in air through his teeth. For once, it seemed that he had to agree with Crispin. There was no way to squeeze coffee out of a stone. He began to leave, following Crispin, when something upon the ground struck him as odd.

"Steady on, Lapidoth," he called to the Druid.

Crispin frowned and turned around, an inquiring eye peering at the Sorcerer.

"Did you notice this hand here before?"

Crispin bent down and squinted at the object that was sprawled forlornly on top of the dust. "Can't say I did, dear boy. Now, shall we go?"

"Crispin Lapidoth, if you're as blind as I think you are, you need to take a long bath in a vat of epidermal salve. If there's a hand here, then it must be connected to a body, yes?"

"I suppose so."

Algernon took hold of the hand and flinched. It was the coldness that struck him first. Steadying his nerves, he pulled upon it. Crispin took hold of the wrist and assisted in dragging what was on the end of the hand out of the darkness.

A startled squeak and a thump from Karunkin confirmed what
they already had guessed.

*************************

Estrella Noble lay on the ground, her pale hand outstretched, with an expression of peace engulfing her ashen face. She was wearing a velvet dress of vibrant scarlet, and the red stone that Algernon had met all too well dangled off her neck like a decapitated tulip head. In that moment, she was beautiful.

"Good Garden!" gasped the Sorcerer, his eyes widening in shock. "Oh, please, not Strell, not Strell..." He buried his face in his hands, then realised the connotation of what he was doing.

Crispin acted upon his Druidic instincts. Grabbing her wrist, he tried to feel for some kind of pulse, anything that would give a sign of life in her deathly body. He put his ear on her breast, but groaned in utter exasperation.

"I am sorry, Algy," he murmured.

The Sorcerer closed his eyes, trying to shield his thoughts from what he already knew.

"But there is some hope left yet," Crispin added, picking up the body in his arms and walking to the cave's entrance.

"But how?!? The girl is dead! Deceased! Gone! Gone to meet the Logos! Whatever you want to call it! She is dead!"

Crispin turned back, a twisted smile proudly adorning his already conceited manner. "Do you not know of the power of the forest, dear boy?"

Before Algernon could say a word, Crispin flung himself into the viridian undergrowth outside the cave, and vanished from immediate perception.

************************

"Resurrection, that is what is needed, yes."

Estrella Noble lay supine in the middle of the grounds of Rustavon Park. The branches of a great elm tree, the tallest in the area, towered over the body as if it was protecting it from further harm, shading it completely from the sun. A short distance away paced Crispin, trying to recall the incantation for channelling the mystical force of nature to his will.

"Has the body started decomposing?" He shot a quick glance at Estrella. "No. Excellent. Do you have the body in your possession?" He looked at the body again. "Yes." After a few more thoughts, he stepped up to the tree, gently taking Estrella's white hand in his and closed his eyes. He then opened his mouth to chant the sylvan charm for transferring the power of Life back to those who had lost it.

"Urgh..." moaned a voice.

Crispin snapped out of his concentration.

"Urgh..." the voice repeated.

"This cannot be happening," thought the Druid. "I had not even done anything. This cannot be true."

Five freezing fingers squeezed his own hand.

"Miss... Noble...?" he said, kneeling down upon the ground in awe.

A pair of hazel brown eyes opened, as if from waking up from a deep sleep. The curve of surprise on her lilac lips, the confused movement of her brow - she was alive, certainly.

"Lord Lapidoth?" whispered Estrella. Her voice was breathy, and had a different tone to how he remembered.

"Stay there," spoke the Druid. He had watched resurrections so many times, from when he was a lowly Novice in the Druids, to his full-time post. The person had to be dead to be resurrected. Not almost dead, not more than dead, just *dead*. He thought to what Algernon had said. "Deceased! Gone! Gone to meet the Logos! Whatever you want to call it!"

And yet she was talking as if she had never died in her life.

As Crispin pondered over what had happened, there was a piercing crackle in the air, like a sonic boom. Moments later, a concerned-looking Algernon and Karunkin stepped through a shivering portal.

"Algy, wait..." spoke Crispin anxiously.

"Strell!" Algernon rushed to the girl and hugged her tightly. A pair of slender fingers hugged him back.

"Go back to the house, boy. I may send for you later," ordered Crispin, sending Karunkin away with their bags.

"Algernon, there is something I must tell you," Crispin said, tapping him lightly on the shoulder.

"Can't you see that I am busy?"

"It is of great importance to ourselves and the girl. But first, she must be taken back to the house. Returning back to life is quite a difficult prospect for my grove and herself. She needs to sleep a while. Her brain has been starved of dreams as Lady Valnurana has not been able to reach her subconscious because of her being dead."

Algernon nodded. With a wave of his hand, Crispin drew upon the strength of the forest. Suddenly, a gateway that glimmered like the great sun in the sky appeared in front of him. Just at that moment, Estrella shrieked in pain, seemingly blinded by the light. With the air of picking up a tiny child, he cradled Estrella in his arms and stepped through.

**********************

Through a crack in the door, Algernon peeked at the slumberous figure of Estrella Noble. Crispin had found a room in his great house suitable for her, and installed her within it. Now, she was catching up on a great pastime of the living. But not without the concern of a certain Druid.

"Well, I must say, Crispin, you are more useful than I ever imagined you to be," spoke the Sorcerer, a cup in hand. They were now sitting in large comfortable chairs, taking tea. Somewhere else in the house, Estrella Noble was quietly taking in her sleep.

"Always complimentary, aren't you," answered the Druid scathingly, his pipe in hand. "Aren't you going to ask what I am thinking?"

"Yes, you wanted to tell me something about Strell? Though I can't see what there is to tell."

Crispin leant forward as if to divulge a secret. "Did you not notice anything... odd... about the girl?"

Algernon looked quite bemused. "Other than being dead then finding yourself alive? That's pretty odd." He sipped the sweet tea benignly, having relaxed a little after the excitement prior to that. "I don't understand."

"Neither do I. That girl shouldn't be alive."

"Lapidoth..."

"No, Algy. I never resurrected her. I didn't get as far as doing that. She's just... an animated corpse."

Algernon frowned. "Are you sure?"

"Her heart does not beat, Algernon. She does not breathe the air like we do. In fact, she does not breathe at all. In the Druid Guild, we call that dead."

The Sorcerer stood up slowly, trying to take in what his friend was telling him. Estrella Noble was dead. Fact. Dead people do not walk. Fact. Therefore, Estrella Noble does not walk. Logic.

However, Estrella Noble was walking. Contradictory fact. But a fact all the same.

"Are you saying that Strell's a zombie?"

"Not at all, Algy old boy. But she is not living. She has no life (but with her social status, you can take that as read, he thought). She is the living dead, or undead, they are termed. There are several, well, I suppose, denominations of the undead. She may be any one of them, but I shall have to do a complete examination of her before I can say definitely, Algernon. But you must remember this - the undead differ greatly from the living. They have abilities that the living have no idea of. We must tread carefully, old boy."

"Tread on what?" a voice suddenly said.

The two men's eyes darted to the door. In the darkness Estrella looked out inquiringly.

"Strell, you should be asleep!" replied Algernon, walking towards her.

"What's all this stuff about dead people? All your talking woke me up. You do talk very loudly, you know." She looked at Algernon, then at Crispin, then back at Algernon. Then she understood.

"Oh. I'm the dead person. You were talking about me behind my back."

Algernon noticed her lack of enthusiasm. Especially the strange, breathy tones that her tongue effortlessly changed into words.

"I need to check you over, Miss. Noble," Crispin explained in his business-like way. "When we found you in *the* cave, you were most certainly dead. When I returned with you to Rustavon, you were still dead. Just before I performed the Ritual of Resurrection, you spoke to me. But you were dead. Therefore, I can only come to one conclusion."

"I see. I suppose you want to examine me now, Lord Lapidoth?"

The Druid inclined his head in the affirmative.

"Very well." Estrella turned and slipped away. Her gait was different as well, Algernon noticed. She walked gracefully, light on her toes like a gentle zephyr, or a lithe dryad. Then a thought shot into his mind - Sarah Noble did not know yet...

**********************

The room that Crispin had allocated to Estrella was one of many that were usually kept for guests. Therefore, it had all the modern conveniences for anyone staying there. Though not as extravagantly decorated as Crispin's own rooms, or the drawing-rooms, it was comfortable to live in.

When all three walked in, the room was found to be dark and dingy. The curtains had been drawn, and no light entered the room. Estrella immediately went to the bed and sat on it, waiting patiently. As Algernon went to open the curtains, she called out:

"I like it dark. The sunlight hurts my eyes."

Algernon's hand moved away from the tassel, and his eyes flicked to Crispin.

"Right, Miss. Noble. This is a routine examination, which I think will be quite fine for the moment," spoke Crispin. "May I take your wrist?"

Estrella waved her hand nonchalantly in his direction, and Crispin took it, feeling along its length. He then stopped and released her hand.

"Any particular reason, apart from your eyes hurting, that the curtains may not be drawn?"

"I don't want them drawn, if you please, Lord Lapidoth. I can't explain why, but I don't want them drawn."

Crispin glanced at Algernon, who looked back with a worried expression. Carrying on with the examination, the Druid gently felt underneath Estrella's jaw and around her neck. His fingers brushed against what felt like two little dents in the skin.

"Might I see inside your mouth?"

Estrella opened wide, and Crispin made a small noise in his throat.

"This is confirmation, Algernon old boy," mumbled the Druid. "Tell me, Miss. Noble, and tell truthfully. Did you encounter any vampires in El'Jazira?"

Estrella bit her lip, and two dagger-sharp pointed teeth lapped over. "No... not exactly..."

Crispin raised his eyebrows. "I shall be frank, Miss. Noble, for the sake of brevity. You are undead. You are one of those who ranks upon such notorious personages as Belladona and Zsarachnor. You are a bloodsucking demon. You are a vampire. However, I do not think that all is quite lost. Algy, dear boy, the curtains."

"Don't!" yelped Estrella, leaping with feline grace towards the already opening curtains.

A beam of sunlight shot through the darkness, and Estrella screamed. It was not a scream of shock, but one of an animal in intense pain. Seeing this, Algernon immediately closed them and rushed to comfort his protège.

"Her mind lingers in the realm of the living, meaning the fashionable side," smiled Crispin. "But she will have to get used to the sunlight again. It will hurt, I expect, but the norm is for the undead to spontaneously combust upon exposure."

Estrella was weeping into Algernon's shoulder. As she shifted her head, she noticed a strange feeling come over her. His neck... it must be full... must be...

"I shouldn't do that either, Miss. Noble," cut in Crispin. "I don't think Algy would appreciate you slashing into his neck with your teeth. I shall get the kitchen to send up something appetising especially for you."

Realising what could have happened, Algernon held himself away from the girl, and hastily moved to where Crispin sat.

"And now for the truth," the Sorcerer replied, staring directly at Estrella with his cool blue eyes. "What happened in El'Jazira?"

*****************

Sitting upon three chairs in one of the drawing-rooms of Rustavon were Algernon, Crispin and Estrella. Each of their faces bore troubled expressions. Algernon's was wrought with uneasiness, Crispin's with fear, and Estrella with surprise. Each of them had something to tell the other.

Algernon recounted his story of the mortalities he witnessed whilst trying to save El'Jazira from a fiery inferno. This was not new, and had nothing to add to what the others already knew.

Crispin told of how he felt the natural auras within the town slowly ebb away, and how the design ideas inside the palace were not exactly great. Nothing useful, as per usual, it seemed.

However, Estrella Noble's account of herself was very surprising. Surprising indeed.

"Do you know of a Conte de Lissard, Crispin?" asked Algernon, with a concerned expression on his face.

The Druid was searching through his little book of contacts and wealthy connections. As a prospective Baron, he was well acquainted with almost every high society character on Achaea. Each of the city governments, the diaspora of nobles that were scattered across the land, and the social climbers who were on the same level as Algernon Severn. He had never met a Conte de Lissard. Come to think of it, he had never even heard of a Conte de Lissard until Estrella related her dark tale of the events leading to her death.

"I can't say that I have, old boy," spoke the Druid slowly. "I consider myself to be on a higher level than those who make acquaintances by sucking one's blood."

"He said that he stayed at El'Jazira whilst we were there," piped up Estrella. After the delicious black pudding (black pudding is made from the blood of pigs), it seemed that her strength had returned completely.

"I think that we are looking at this from the wrong angle," Algernon replied, picking at his teeth with a toothpick. "Don't the undead create the undead?"

"Correct, old boy."

"Therefore, we should be looking for our chap in a Thoth book, because they are strictly dead, but animated. Didn't you say, Strell, that there was a woman in the house with him?"

She nodded. "Illusen, I think she was called."

"May I go and look in your library, Lapidoth? I have an idea."

The Druid nodded, and Algernon left the room.

Estrella was quite at ease with herself, despite the fact that she was dead. Normally, she would have panicked and overreacted completely. But, she was not normal. Something had prevented her from losing her mind to the machinations of the undead. Other than her mind, body and spirit, she had lost everything else. She had lost life as Crispin and Algernon knew it. She could never embrace the warmth of the sun as she had done as a young child with Ainslyeh. Her training in the mystical arts of Sorcery were no more, as she soon discovered. And the sight of blood, sweet blood, triggered some animalistic instinct within her. Blood was life, and she craved it.

"I think that I am quite normal, Lord Lapidoth," stated Estrella authoratively.

The Druid peered at her blankly. Her skin was so pale that she could have easily been mistaken for a porcelein doll, if it were not for her lips.

"Let me explain why you are not, as you say, normal." Crispin held out his fingers and began to count on them.

"One. You are dead. That is true for all aspects. Two. You are alive. That is also true. Three. Therefore, you must be undead, as your heart does not beat, and you have been drained of all blood, it seems, but somehow, and I repeat, somehow, you still managed to walk from your room down to here and have a conversation. Four. Your teeth are those of a carnivore, and quite capable of biting through skin to search out that which you, well, live on. Five. You hate the sun. Though there may be many reasons for this, such as not wanting to get a sunburn that may be quite unfashionable, when related to the aforementioned points, it suggests a character of the undead. Six. You refer to me as Lord Lapidoth. Only my high society friends and the undead can address myself as that. You never referred to me by my title, ever. Therefore, some change has occurred within your chemistry."

Estrella opened her mouth to say something, but her tongue met the points of her teeth. Hastily, she shut her mouth. So it was true. Crispin had laid out the argument for why she was dead. On the other hand, he had not said why she was still alive. Not wholly, anyhow.

"So why am I not going on a rampage around Achaea, then, Crispin?" she emphasised clearly. "If I am a vampire, I should have killed everyone by now."

The Druid leant back in his chair, then answered:

"When Algernon returns from his idle curiosity into a number of books that I have recently acquired, I am certain that we shall know for sure. However, I am holding a dinner party here tonight, and I shall have to get Algy to set out a seating plan." He stood up and pulled upon a tasselled bell pull hanging from the ceiling. Percy, the butler, slid into view from behind a fireplace at the far end of the drawing-room.

"Has the dining hall been set out for tonight, Percy?" asked Crispin.

"It has indeed, sir."

"Add one more chair. Then get my coat and tails ready upon my bed for tonight."

"Very good, sir." The butler appeared to evaporate into the darkness.

Estrella observed Crispin through her piercing brown eyes. Crispin looked right back. She had changed. The whole expression upon her face was one of cabbalistic beauty, if such a thing existed. It disgusted and enthralled at the same time.

"You are going to sit at the dining table with myself, Algy and the rest of the people whom I have invited," announced the Druid.

"But why?"

"There is something I have to test out. Make sure that you are ready for a formal dinner at sunset, and wait in the smoking room. We shall meet you there."

Without a sound, the Druid left the drawing-room, leaving the poor girl in a rather confused state.

*********************

Algernon was perusing a selection of books that he had found in the Lapidoth library. He had a little hunch. Not a big one, but a hunch all the same, and he was hoping to prove it correct.

In his Apprentice days in the Sorcerer guild, he had spent a year working in the shop of a Sorcerer who dealt mainly in enchantments. It was a quaint little shop in Delos that sold firelash gloves, icewall rings, and other similar products. As he could not enchant objects for himself, the young Algernon amused himself by reading through the old books about the history of enchanting and famous relics.

He recalled hearing about a selection of necklaces that his employer had spoken about to an inquiring customer. "They came in a set of three necklaces. The Heart of the Forest - that's a large emerald. Terribly unlucky, of course. The last woman who wore it committed suicide, and the emerald was smashed up to bits. Useless now. Terrible tragedy. The Voice of the Seas - a large sapphire, or was it lapis? I can't remember now. It was terribly sought after, until the person wearing it threw it into the middle of the sea after a tiff with her lover, I seem to remember. The poor girl regretted it afterwards. Terrible tragedy. And the final one. It was a large ruby, yes, very pretty. I believe it became a family heirloom in recent years. But before, I think it was the gift of a young nobleman to his pretty wife, until he killed her after he found that she had been playing him on the sly. It was terribly long ago. I think it was called the Dew of the Fire Flower. Terrible tragedy. But they all were enchanted with the magic of the Ancients, and very powerful. They could either bring life - or death. Terrible, really."

The Sorcerer flicked through a book, scanning the pages for what he was looking for. Then he stopped, staring at a page in surprise.

"But she wasn't playing him on the sly!" he murmured, closing the book thoughtfully. "He was playing her!"

*********************

Sitting in the smoking room of Rustavon was Crispin. He was ponderously smoking his pipe of slippery elm, dressed elegantly in a black suit with tails on his coat and a white shirt. His hair was slicked back neatly, and it seemed that his fingers were adorned with more rings than ever. The sun was slipping silently away, and the grounds outside grew evermore dim. He was waiting.

There was a rustle of fabric coming down the corridor, and Crispin stood up abruptly. Estrella was wearing her scarlet velvet dress, but it somehow had changed her entire appearance. The smooth curves of her figure, the sheer voluptuousness of her movements, and the grace in which she entered the room made Crispin wonder if he really was incorrect about her social status.

"Well?" she asked breathlessly. "What do you reckon?"

Crispin blinked a few times, then pulled himself together. "Quite adequate, Miss. Noble," he finally said.

"So, what was this test that you wanted me to do?"

The Druid thought for a moment, then smiled. "Come into the dining room for a moment. Algy is always late. The guests will be arriving soon, and I need your assistance."

"But, Crispin, the dining room is on the opposite side of the house to the entrance."

"Precisely."

Not wanting to make a fuss, Estrella sashayed out of the smoking room and made her way to the dining room. The twilight darkness seemed to reflect off her pearly skin, outlining her presence. When she got there, she stopped, and waited patiently.

Crispin arrived soon after. Just as he walked through the door, a bell rang faraway. They could hear the door opening and Percy greeting the first guests.

"Describe the person or people who have just arrived, Miss. Noble," replied the Druid.

Before she could think of what to say, a stream of words suddenly flooded out of her mouth like a torrent of snow in Hashan.

"Her blood is sweet, yes, exquisitely succulent, I can smell it quite clearly. Her skin is warm, and she is pretty, very pretty, and bred of noble blood, I can tell... she is a relative of yours, Crispin. Your sister."

The Druid was listening into a talking tube at the wall. Slowly, he put down the cap of the tube and turned to the girl. "You're right," he murmured.

The bell tinkled again, and before Crispin could ask her to find out who it was, another torrent flushed out of Estrella's curved mouth.

"Two people, quite different. The blood is slow and sluggish... not appetising at all... the other is of unpure blood. Her conscience tells a tale. She does not love her husband at all."

"Reggie d'Alony-Buckburn and his wife..." murmured the Druid in wonder, listening at the talking tube again.

"A red-blooded man, with blue eyes and cheerful disposition... he is quite in a hurry... the scent is getting stronger... I can smell it..."

"Did I miss anything?" Algernon gasped, panting as he entered the dining room. He had hurriedly put on a dress suit and was quite puffed out, by the look of it.

"We must go and greet the guests," replied Crispin promptly. "Algy dear boy, try not to look so sleepy. It bores the guests terribly. Miss. Noble, try not to speak too much, and control yourself."

He rushed out of the dining room and skidded to a halt just before he reached the entrance hall. There were a few guests already there, and catching his breath, he made his presence known.

"Ah, Mary, glad you could make it," he beamed genially, embracing his sister.

"Oh, Crispin, you silly boy, don't think for a second that I would miss a party that I have been invited to. It would not be proper."

"Well, might I introduce you to two people who are staying here with me." Behind him were Algernon and Estrella.

Mary Lapidoth looked unperturbed, and greeted Estrella with the kindest of tones that she could put on.

"This is Miss. Estrella Noble. Miss. Noble, this is my sister, Lady Mary Lapidoth."

"Pleased to meet you," spoke the breathy voice of Estrella, hiding her teeth from view.

"Charmed, I'm sure," answered Mary in exactly the same bland way as Crispin usually did. Then she saw Algernon.

"Mr. Severn," she replied dryly.

"Lady Mary," he answered flatly.

There was an awkward silence. With the air of a snobbish princess, Lady Mary Lapidoth swished into the dining room, leaving a fuming Algernon to smoulder by himself.

The d'Alony-Buckburns were the next to be greeted. Reggie d'Alony-Buckburn spent a lot of time talking to Crispin about the financial state of iron in Moghedu and how the cost was rising dreadfully. Mrs. d'Alony-Buckburn looked on the whole quite bored by the whole ordeal. They soon passed on.

Most of the guests had already arrived, and were conversing quite comfortably with each other in the dining room. Percy had served out flutes of Crispin's best champagne, and they were all feeling rather relaxed.

Then suddenly, there was a knock at the door. Algernon went to answer it swiftly.

Standing at the door was a delicate young woman, wearing a black silk corset dress with a beautiful pearl necklace around her neck. Her hair was light and elegantly decorated, and she smiled like the stars in the sky had just been made her servants.

"I am Lady Eleanor Shelley," she said.

"Yes, you are expected. Come in," replied Algernon.

Crispin was discussing politics with a tall lanky man when he noticed the lady approach from the corner of his eye. He quickly excused himself and went to greet her.

"Lord Lapidoth," she spoke emotionlessly. It seemed that she had practised the words over and over again. Algernon took her cloak and quickly disposed of it. He beckoned to Estrella and together they made a quick exit to the dining room.

"Ellie..." he began nervously, but she cut him off almost immediately.

"I must join the others. It would be quite improper to stay." Her golden hair shone in the candlelight as she quickstepped towards the dining room, leaving Crispin ever so marginally distraught.

**********************

"How are your parents, Mr. Severn?" asked Reginald d'Alony-Buckburn, holding a glass of wine in his already swaying hand.

"They are currently living in Ulangi. It is better for my mother's health," replied the Sorcerer, sipping from his champagne flute.

"Ah, excellent, sir, excellent!" He pumped his finger upon the table. "Fresh air is good for the soul. And sunlight too!"

Estrella immediately jolted, and Mary Lapidoth noticed this. "My brother's food not to your taste, Miss. Estrella?" she sneered, a snow-white mink fur wrap draped over her shoulders.

The girl shook her head. "It's fine, Lady Mary. Just a bit minty, that's all."

"You do look awfully pale," Mrs. d'Alony-Buckburn observed. "A good few hours in the sun would do you good."

"You always listen to me, eh, Partita?" chortled Reginald, thumping his hand on the table. "But this food is quite herby. I suppose it's all that harvesting you do as a Druid, eh, Lord Lapidoth?"

Crispin glanced up quickly. "I can always let the kitchens know if there is a problem with the food."

"They're quite right, Crispin," replied Algernon. "This lamb in mint sauce feels a bit too minty for my taste. I suppose I'll just drink a little now. More wine, please, Karunkin."

The little page boy was hopping up and down the table, topping up the glasses of those who had emptied them.

"And how is your father, Baron Lapidoth?" Reginald smiled at Crispin.

Algernon and Mary tried to suppress giggles as they saw Partita d'Alony-Buckburn flinch at his name.

"He's in good health in Shallam, thank you," replied Crispin.

"Not so talkative, I see."

Crispin made a weak smile. The reason behind this was that the seating plan had not gone how he wanted it. Though Estrella was safely seated next to Algernon, he was sat right next to his ex-fiancée, Mary Lapidoth. And he himself was sat next to Eleanor Shelley. This was not a good idea.

"Now, I think I shall leave you men to talk about whatever it is you do talk about," smiled Lady Mary Lapidoth. "How about the girls and I, we go to the drawing-room, yes? I must get to know you better, Miss. Estrella."

All the women stood up, and the men did also.

"I'm afraid I must excuse myself. I'm feeling rather tired. I think I may retire tonight," replied Estrella, almost mechanically.

"As you wish. I must talk about some of the new fashions that are springing up all around Sapience," Lady Mary replied, beckoning to the women. "Quite vulgar, in my opinion. All these tie-dye stockings and fishnet thongs, why, it would make my mother turn in her grave."

The women all nodded, and turned away, making their way to the drawing-room. Lady Eleanor Shelley took one glance at Crispin, but he was not looking. Just as Estrella stood up to leave, Algernon slid a piece of paper in her hand, and then ignored her presence.

As Estrella left the dining table, he shot a glance at the paper in her hand. Upon it was written:

Meet us in the smoking room after everyone's gone.


It was signed with Algernon's unreadable signature and Crispin's wax seal. She pondered, and put the note into her dress.

*********************

"Well, Algy, what have you found out? Don't keep us for too long. Some of us must sleep, you know."

Algernon pulled out a large brown vellum book and spread it out in front of them on a table. He pointed to an article in the book entitled, 'Contessa Teresa de Lissard'.

"Look at what she's wearing," he replied, pointing to a portrait some artist had done of the Contessa.

Crispin leant heavily over the table and squinted at her. "She's wearing a dress."

Algernon sighed deeply. "You're squiffy," he groaned.

"I'm not!" retorted Crispin. "Any fool can see what she's wearing."

"Well, anything other than the dress?"

"Other than the necklace that clashes with the dress?"

"The necklace will do fine. Strell, come over here."

Estrella moved over to the table in her peculiar floating manner. As she leant over, the red jewel around her neck bobbed out of her dress. Algernon took it by the chain, being careful not to touch the jewel this time.

"This," and he held the jewel to the candlelight, "is what kept Estrella from being completely immersed into the realms of the undead. It'll take too much time if you read the whole article, but this Conte chap that you met, Strell, he died a long time back."

The girl looked completely baffled. "But I ate dinner with him. I talked to him."

Algernon touched the jewel, and quickly withdrew his finger. The aroma of burning flesh filled the darkness. Crispin retched air in disgust.

"Did he touch this necklace at any time during your stay?" asked Algernon sternly.

"Well... he held it, and looked at it for a bit. Then he gave it back."

"Ask her aboutsh the scars on her wrists, dear boy," slurred Crispin.

"He was draining your blood from your body as you stayed there," explained the Sorcerer. "But back to our Contessa here. She was married to the living Conte, as it were. However, she was the daughter of a rich personage, wherever she came from, and anything the Conte owned became hers as well. He gave her this little trinket here," and he waved the necklace about. "The Dew of the Fire Flower, a ruby enchanted by Byron and Company, a very reputable enchanters' business."

"So what has this got to do with me?"

"Well, the Contessa knew that this ruby held all the Conte's power, so under the dead of night, she sneaked away from Lissard Castle to a continent faraway. She landed in the north, and found herself in a city. However, this was a city of Occultists. She knew that they were the most secretive people ever, so she entrusted the jewel to one of the greatest Occultists of that time, and vowed never to let it get back to the Conte. This Occultist swore that him and his family would protect the jewel as long as the Conte lived. And so, the Contessa returned to the castle, and she thought all was well."

"How droll," murmured Crispin in his drunken stupor, slumping over the table.

"But the Conte found out. For her insolence, he murdered her by slitting her throat and wrists with a knife, draining all the blood out and drinking it. All anybody knew was that she had been committing adultery - a legal reason where he came from to kill his wife. But the Contessa had the last laugh. The Conte had poured his poisoned soul into the ruby, and effectively made himself undead. Without the ruby, he was a cold stone. But where had the ruby got to?"

"Oh, hurry up, Algy. You do talk far too much, old boy."

"Quiet, Lapidoth. You're in no state to talk. Anyhow, the ruby passed down through the hands of many Occultists. Their secretive nature prevented anybody from knowing that they had it, including the Conte in his little castle. Until it reached a certain Occultist called Abelard." He then looked directly at Estrella. "Then the story comes to this point."

"Abelard Noble was my grandfather," she whispered quietly.

"I think that you'll find that we are in some deep trouble here," nodded Algernon. "The burnings at El'Jazira were just the start. The Conte knew you were coming there with me, somehow. And also, my guild contacted me with this piece of information. Just after we left Hashan, Lapidoth, Khrystra's candle shop was found burned to the ground. Something is leaking the information to him."

"Is there no way to stop him?" gasped Estrella, steadying her nerves with a Shallam Slammer that was put thoughtfully on the side of the table.

"I think you're going to need some Divine help here," murmured a voice from the corner of the room.

All eyes shot around, and out of the darkness stepped Lady Eleanor Shelley.

"I couldn't help but listen," she apologised. "It's not my nature to eavesdrop, but I think you're going to need some help."

Crispin pulled himself up and strode over to her. "Ellie... don't..." he warned.

"It's not just Jazira and Hashan. I've been looking into this myself," she replied, pulling out a piece of crumpled paper and ignoring the Druid. "Whilst my husband has been away on a tour of the north, I knew it was happening again. So I began to take a look into it. It's happened before, see?"

The paper was a map of the whole of Sapience. Ashtan, Shallam, Cyrene, Hashan, they were all painted clearly on to the world. Crosses covered a wide area of the land.

"These crosses show places that were burned down in the past," explained the Lady. "It's the same pattern. Town, small area of a city, a whole city. I think you need my help to try and stop it happening again."

"Ellie, I don't want you mixed up in this business," spoke Crispin agitatedly.

"Quiet, Crispin," replied the calm voice of Lady Eleanor. "But what I do know, is that nobody has ever managed to find out how the Conte can track down what places to choose. He usually picks places where a person may be going. So, Miss. Estrella, you're the one that he's tracking down, for the jewel. And you, Algernon..."

"Me?" pondered the Sorcerer. "What does he want with me?"

"You've figured it out. He doesn't like that at all. Men hate it when their pride is dented."

"True. But how does it affect yourself, Ellie?" asked Algernon.

Lady Eleanor Shelley looked at him directly with cool eyes. "Before I married, my name was Eleanor Byron."

"I see," nodded Estrella in understanding. "It's a business matter for you. You're the heiress to the fortunes of Byron and Company, I'm guessing?"

The Lady bowed her head to say that she was correct. "However, somebody in this house must be leaking the information. It has to be them. How else did they know that you'd be going to Hashan?"

Each of them looked at each other.

"Don't look at me," Estrella glared. "I'm dead already."

"Somebody who has a very distinct trait with them," replied Eleanor Shelley.

They all looked at each other with searching eyes - Algernon at Crispin, Crispin at Algernon.

"Gods, it's so mind-blowingly obvious! Can't you see?"

There was a short pause.

"Evidently not. Very well. I had my hopes up so high, and they've crashed back down again. And I thought you had changed, Crispin, I really had."

"Ellie, did you come here to try and make up with me or to solve this?" snapped Crispin irritatedly.

"Neither look likely now, Lord Lapidoth. Send me a letter by dove when you've got rid of the perpetrator, will you?" said Eleanor, gathering up her belongings. With a smile at Estrella, she left silently through the door.

Crispin looked destroyed.

"What a heartless cow!" remarked Estrella. "I've got a good mind to go out there and drain her dry, the stony old slapper, jilting Crispin just like that! What do you think, Algy? Algy?"

The Sorcerer said nothing. He was busy examining a portrait of the Conte, Contessa, and their household at Lissard Castle.

*************************

It was early the next day when Algernon woke up Crispin. The Druid was suffering the after-effects of too much wine, and was not willing to wake up. Estrella had stayed awake all night, as her body had lost all need for living things like sleep, and had feasted all night upon the corpses of rabbits and hares that she had caught herself. The meal was satisfactory, and her lips were flushed deep red.

Crispin, on the other hand, did not appreciate having his game reserve completely emptied out by one vampire, and forced himself out of bed after Algernon had told him. He pulled on his acid green robes and took his bag of herbs before following his friend sluggishly down to the hall.

"Do we have to carry all our belongings?" complained Crispin, hefting his backpack on to his back. "Where's that boy?"

"I think we'll be fine, Lapidoth," replied Algernon, taking his elemental staff. "Let the boy sleep. I just have an idea."

"There's no need to get all offensive, do we?" asked Crispin, looking at the staff. "I mean, old boy, we aren't going on one of those trips, surely?"

"Perhaps."

Estrella stepped in from the shadows. "Are we going, then?"

"I'm not," said Crispin, taking off his outdoor gear. "I'm hungover and tired. I think it's a useless venture going at this time of night. My bed calls me."

"But Lapidoth..."

"No, Algy, I'm going. My butler wakes me up, not you. Unless you want to stoop yourself down to Miss. Noble's level, I suggest you leave me alone. Good night."

Crispin snorted and turned to go up the stairs.

"Git," muttered the Sorcerer. He fiddled with the lock on the door, and left the house with Estrella slipping in behind him quietly.

************************

The cave at nighttime looked just as it did in the day. Tedious, boring, and in need of a landscape gardener to spruce it up. The honeysuckle had done the best thing it could ever do in its sylvan life and died. The minty scent of a plant hovered around the exterior.

Algernon breathed in the cold night air. It would be at least another hour before the sun would rise, so he had to be fast. He had to do it now. There was no question about it. If Crispin didn't want to help, then so be it.

Taking a candle, he lit it and entered the cave. There was nothing special in there that he wanted specifically, but a certain area within it. Crouching down low, he began to knock the floor with a fist. The taps were solid. All bar one.

"Hollow," murmured the Sorcerer. "Strell, I'll need your help here."

Estrella looked down at the spot that Algernon was peering at. Suddenly, a extraordinary sensation trickled down her back. She looked at her hands. They were not there.

"Algy..." she cried out, but her voice was echoing around. She was mere mist in the air.

Then she understood. The Sorcerer tapped at a small crack in the hollow area.

Somehow, for she knew not how, she managed to slip down into the crack, and then 'solidify' at the other end. She was at the start of a tunnel that seemed to run underneath the cave itself. Algernon's taps echoed throughout. Estrella pushed the ceiling, and eased a trapdoor open. The Sorcerer smiled and climbed down.

"Please tell me what we are doing here, Algy," asked Estrella, brushing herself down and closing the trapdoor.

"I knew he would do that," said the Sorcerer to himself. Then he added, "We must be careful, Strell. Keep your wits about you at all time."

"I have to warn you, Algy, I'm getting a little hungry."

"So soon?"

"I've been feeding off hares and rabbits. Not exactly the most filling meal ever."

"This won't take long."

They started walking along the tunnel. Liquid oozed from the ceiling, forming dark pools on the ground. Estrella held out her tongue and let the fluid drop on to it. It was not stagnant water.

"Blood," she murmured, licking her lips and holding her tongue out for more.

The aspect of the tunnel changed completely. They turned around, and the tunnel had vanished. The sounds of insects buzzed about their ears, and the air was very humid. Somehow, they had walked into the middle of an indoor forest.

"An indoor habitat," muttered Algernon ponderously. He was looking quite uncertain.

"Now what, Algy?" asked Estrella.

"I believe, Miss. Noble, that this is the point where you see me," spoke a familiar voice.

*************************

Estrella's eyes darted around, as did Algernon's. All they could see was forest going for miles and miles into the horizon. Trees, plants, branches, just pure forest.

"I can smell your blood, you arrogant little git!" shouted Estrella, her eyes welling up with fury. "Come on out! I won't bite... unless your blood tubes are ready to be torn out of your wiry little neck!"

"Oh, you're just looking in completely the wrong place, Miss. Noble," the voice answered. "On top of the pedestal, directly in front of you. It isn't too hard to find, unless you're blind as well as dead."

A ruined statue of Thoth, the God of Death was right in front of them. Perched on top of it was someone they had both met before.

"Crispin Lapidoth, you are a complete bastard!" cried Estrella, punching the statue with all her might.

The voice laughed. They could hear the person slide down from the statue and come to face them. Estrella gasped. Algernon merely looked on.

"A complete bastard, yes," said Karunkin, looking at his nails unconcernedly, "but not Lord Lapidoth. He's currently lying asleep in bed, as far as I know." He smiled pleasantly at her. Estrella found it sickening.

"I suppose you had better tell her who I am, Mr. Algernon Severn," Karunkin replied, looking bored. "You've been studying it so hard for so long."

Algernon turned to Estrella, and said, "This is Elias Karunkin Lissard. The illegitimate son of the Conte de Lissard and Illusen Cylvina."

"So, you were correct in saying that I was a complete bastard, but I don't think you meant it that way, did you, Miss. Noble?" grinned Karunkin. "Anyway, that's the pleasantries finished. Do you have anything else to say before I kill the both of you?"

"DIE!" screeched Estrella suddenly, leaping at Karunkin with her razor-sharp teeth. Her strength came not from life, but the horrific powers of the undead. Her body had lost all the weaknesses of tiredness, but had taken on a new strength, and as her long fingers clenched around Karunkin's neck, she began to throttle him with the might of a concrete elephant.

But Karunkin was not spent. As the son of the Conte, he was undead as well, carrying his blood in his veins, carrying an unseen bond with him. He took Estrella's hands in his own and forced them away from his neck. Estrella, for a moment, was surprised.

"You couldn't even kill a baby rat," sneered Karunkin sarcastically. With a flick of his arms, he sent Estrella flying across the room.

Algernon began chanting some strange dogma, and his staff began to vibrate. Suddenly, a gigantic electric bolt shot out of the end and zapped towards the undead creature they were battling. Karunkin's eyes merely flickered as if amused as he punched it back at the Sorcerer. He smiled with the air of a sadist as Algernon writhed on the earth in pain as the bolt electrocuted him, blue sparks emanating from his body.

"Living is so drab as well," he added, stepping down and moving to the woozy Estrella, lying on the ground. "Now, I believe that you have an artifact of my father's in your possession."

"Oh, sod off!" cried the girl, trying to fight him off. "It was entrusted to my family!"

"By an insane woman who was not fit to be a Contessa! Give me the Dew!"

"You just try it!"

Karunkin stopped, then smiled a canine-toothed smile. "I think you still have some blood left in you, Miss. Noble." He dropped his head down towards her neck.

"GET OFF!" she shrieked, screwing up her eyes.

There was a soft squelching noise, the dripping of blood, and the thump of something hitting the ground.

Algernon blinked. He was lying spread-eagled on the ground. His hair was standing on end, and he felt numb all over. Twisting around, he took his staff, and sat up. Then, he blinked again.

"I can't believe I ever engaged a cad of the first degree like that to work in Rustavon," replied Crispin, pulling his Druidic quarterstaff out of the neck of Karunkin that it had impaled so deeply. "Remind me to ask for references next time, Algy." He pulled up the cold body of Elias Karunkin Lissard and dunked it on the ground away from Estrella.

"But you were asleep!" gasped the Sorcerer. "How did you know?"

"Well," started Crispin, beginning to revive Estrella with some smelling salts that he had, "after you so rudely woke me up, I couldn't get back to sleep again. I called for this little scoundrel here to bring me some delphinium from my stores to help me sleep, and he didn't come. So, I went down to my garden, taking my staff and such, and flowed to him. Just luck that he was here. I think I came at the right moment, it seems."

"Too bloody right," muttered Estrella as she came back to consciousness.

********************

"So, what do we do now, Algy? I can't rejoin the Sorcerers. Every other Guild on Sapience rejected me, and it appears that I rejected myself from this one."

"You're in a class of your own, Strell. One of a kind. You've got some skills there that nobody will ever understand."

"But I promised my mother..."

"Oh, I'm sure she'll understand. But she can't know about this, of course."

"Definitely not."

"Do we carry on? I mean, looking for him?"

"Probably. But it's more likely that he's looking for us."

"True. Oh, where did Crispin get to?"

"He's locked himself in his room. Seems like Lady Eleanor's taken a liking to him again. The poor sod's lovestruck."

"This is only the beginning, Algy."

"I know. But everything always has an end."

"The end of this chronicle?"

"Just this part. The rest will just continue into time like a glacier that will never return to gentle water."

FIN
The final installment. An adequate ending to a story that I'm rather pleased with. This ending got a merit.

Vampires, fighting, lovesick people and heaving bosoms. All quite above board and dry.

Part 1 can be found here.

Part 2 can be found here.
© 2004 - 2024 Xaviere
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