The Return, Part One

 Cold, wet, and slush-covered lanes best described the city of Qeynos in January. The cold, salt-smelling air, mixed with the constant mist and grey skies, lent a dreariness that belied the city’s radiant optimism, the one time of the year when a cold darkness took hold of the streets and avenues.

Lady Alustrae D’Arbene stood on the naval docks of Qeynos Harbor, her daughter Opalynna by her side, along with her Royal Guard Asuka. She sighed as she watched her luggage being unloaded and put onto the back of a cart.

“Will we be in the city for a while?” Asuka asked, the drops of mist already adorning her gold armor.

“No,” Alustrae said, “just in town for the annual Royal Court meetings for the new year, the parliamentary boards, position appointments, treasury meetings, and Ambassadorial Service yearly planning sessions. After this, we are back in the jungle to finish the matter with the hellfire weapon and put an end to that once and for all.”

“Understood, Milady,” Asuka said with a nod.

A ratonga worker nearby smiled, his whiskers wet from the mist. “If the mages don’ts gets it first.”

Alustrae knew the voice. “Blaquetail? What are you doing here on the docks? Undercover?”

“Talis sent mes to greets yous,” the black-furred ratonga nodded. “Is disgusieds. Varlihks is frees. Nots wants hims to knows wheres we ares. Orders of Talis.”

“The bastard, I heard,” Alustrae sighed as she walked over and greeted him. “Ride with us in the carriage to the Royal Quarters. You can slip out before we get there and disappear.”

The ratonga smiled and nodded as he waited for the ladies and royals to get inside the carriage first, and then he slipped inside, closing the door and being careful of his tail. “Yous gots letterss,” Blaquetail said, handing a stack of letters to Alustrae, who sat opposite her daughter, Asuka next to her.

She took them and began to sift through them. “A letter from mother... a letter from the Minister of Justice... a summons from Her Majesty, Queen Antonia Bayle.” She paused. “And this one... It’s from him.”

“Him?” Opalynna leaned forward, her ponytail bouncing. “Who, Mother? From Father?”

Alustrae’s hazel eyes lifted from the parchment, her gaze distant. “Yes. From my father, Captain D’Arbene.”

Opalynna’s face lit up. “What does he say? Does he mention the Starcrest Valor? Tell me! Tell me everything!”

“Patience, my dear,” Alustrae said, her fingers tracing the seal, a familiar wave-crested ‘D’. She broke it with her thumbnail. “He writes from the Timorous Deep. They’ve been chasing pirates off the coast of the Fiery Aviary. Says the waters are treacherous, but the crew is in high spirits. He will join us when our operation begins in about a month or so.”

Asuka watched, her posture unchanged, but her gaze softened slightly. A faint smile touched her lips. “It must be a comfort, Milady, to hear from him.”

Alustrae nodded, her eyes still on the letter. “It is. He’s... well. That is enough.”

Blaquetail sat silently, a shadow in the corner of the carriage, his dark eyes taking in the scene. His tail gave a single, sharp twitch.

The carriage rolled over the cobblestones, the rhythmic clatter a steady beat against the misty quiet of Qeynos. Alustrae folded her father’s letter and set it aside, her expression shifting to one of professional duty as she picked up the summons from the Queen.

“It appears we have an audience with Her Majesty immediately upon our arrival,” she announced, her voice losing its familial warmth and adopting the formal, measured tone of a court emissary. “She wishes to discuss the... developments in the jungle.”

Opalynna’s enthusiasm deflated. “More meetings? But I’ve barely had any real training at the temple! Sister Euphemia says my Light Weaving is improving, but I still singe the prayer books sometimes.”

A rare, soft chuckle escaped Asuka. “Practice is the only path to perfection, Opalynna.”

“Tell me about Varlikh,” Alustrae said as she went through the letters.

“Hims workings for mages,” Blaquetail said. “Pretty stranges timings if yous ask mes.”

“The mages want to get their hands on the hellfire weapon we are chasing, and his being set free from the Royal Stockade to work for the mages does seem like odd timing. Doesn’t the Queen have a say in whether he stays locked up or not?” Alustrae asked. “The Ministry of Justice has to have some authority over it.”

“Talis is tryings to find out,” Blaquetail said.

“Talianimi,” Alustrae corrected. “Not Talis. Royals frown upon shortened names, not trying to get on your back about it, but just a warning that working in these higher ranks of the Crown will take some getting used to, and some there take offense at slang and shorthand.”

“Talianimi,” Blaquetail corrected himself. “Hims... hers... is tryings to find out.” The ratonga gestured with a flick of a clawed finger. “Hers gots ways. Sames ways as mages.”

“Be careful,” Asuka warned. “The mages of the Arcane Sciences are not to be trifled with. Their reach is long, and their memory is longer.”

“Longers than a ratonga’s memory?” Blaquetail said with a smirk.

“Longer than most,” Asuka said.

“So Varlikh is a potential threat,” Alustrae said, her mind already working, piecing together the political landscape. “The mages have him. Talianimi is looking into it. And we are headed back to the Queen. This... complicates things. Varlikh knows too much about our operations, our methods. If he’s been turned, or if he’s working for the mages for reasons of his own...”

“He woulds be a dangers,” Blaquetail finished, his smirk gone, replaced by a chilling seriousness. “Buts wes forbiddens from killings hims. Talis needs him alives. Others conspiracies, wes tracking hims.” He paused. “Wes knows wes can’ts stops wes from doings whats wes musts. Wes justs hopes wes doesn’ts gets in thes way.”

“Understood,” Alustrae said with a sigh. “The Ministry of Justice cannot condone murder, Blaquetail. It’s why Talianimi is here to work with us. She is a Ministry asset, after all.”

The carriage lurched to a halt. Through the misted window, the soaring white towers of the Royal Quarters materialized, their spires piercing the grey sky. This was the heart of Qeynos, where its ideals were forged into policy, and where its darkest necessities were decided in hushed, gilded rooms.

“We’re here,” Asuka announced, her hand resting instinctively on the hilt of her concealed bastard sword. Her gaze was sharp, scanning the crowd on the plaza, her Maran-trained senses alert.

Blaquetail was already moving, a fluid, silent motion that seemed to fold him into the shadows of the carriage’s interior. “Wes wills disappears,” he hissed, and before Asuka could fully open the door, he was gone, a ripple in the darkness between the carriage and a nearby stone buttress, leaving only the faint scent of wet fur and the lingering chill of his presence.

“He is strange,” Opal said, “but I like him. I heard he is an assassin!”

Asuka got out of the carriage first and then offered her hand to Alustrae. “As long as you don’t follow in his path, young lady. Try not to poison anyone’s boyfriend when we are in the city this time.”

Opal exited the carriage, smiling, “Oh, no, Mother, I have a new tactic of which to use! I plan on using my feminine charms as a young lady to make them fall in love with me.”

Alustrae blinked. “Perhaps you should just stick to the poison.” She sighed, adjusting her sapphire-blue robes. “Come. The Queen awaits. And try not to charm anyone within the palace walls. The repercussions are... significant.”

Opalynna’s smile widened, a mischievous glint in her eyes. “No promises, Mother.”

As they walked across the slick, wet stone of the plaza, Alustrae’s mind was a whirlwind of political maneuvering. The mages, Varlikh, the Queen’s summons—it was a tangled web, and she could feel the threads tightening around her. Asuka walked a respectful pace behind and to the left, a silent, golden sentinel, her cloak catching the mist and making her seem to shimmer at the edges of Opalynna’s youthful energy.

The guards at the entrance to the Royal Quarters, recognizing Alustrae, snapped to attention, their spears thudding against the stone floor in perfect unison. “Lady D’Arbene,” one intoned, his voice formal.

Alustrae gave a slight, graceful nod. “We are expected.”

They were led through echoing halls, their footsteps the only sound on the polished marble floors. The air grew warmer, the scent of beeswax and old parchment replacing the damp chill of outside.

A familiar group of red-armored soldiers stood inside, their gray-haired, bearded leader addressing them. Alustrae’s lips grew into a smile as she walked towards the group. “Captain Ashvale and the Crimson Inquisition?” she called out.

The grizzled demon hunter turned, his weathered face breaking into a rare, genuine smile. “Lady Alustrae,” he said, his gravelly voice warm with respect. “It’s good to see you in one piece. We heard whispers of your... jungle difficulties.”

“One piece and ready for more,” Alustrae replied, her gaze taking in the blood-red armor of the Inquisition, each plate a testament to battles fought. “What brings the Overlord’s finest demon hunters to the Royal Quarters? Planning a new crusade into the Plane of Hate?”

Ashvale’s eyes, the color of a winter sky, held a weary resolve. “Something like that. A new cult has sprung up, worshiping some forgotten void god. They’ve been... active in the Down Below. The Queen wants it cleansed. Permanently. The Overlord agreed, and since demon activity was reported in town, we have returned.”

Opalynna, who had been trying to look mature and serious, couldn’t contain her excitement. “A real cult? Like, with black robes and chanting? Sister Euphemia told me about them! We studied the proper rites of exorcism!”

Ashvale’s gaze fell upon the young templar, and for a moment, a flicker of something like amusement crossed his scarred features. “They are not so quaint, young lady. These are not children playing with shadows. They wield real power, and their devotion is absolute. They would gladly sacrifice a bright soul like yours to their dark masters.” His tone was not condescending, but a stark, grim warning.

Asuka stepped slightly forward, her golden armor a stark contrast to the crimson of the Inquisition. “Any threats within Qeynos are a threat to us all. We will be vigilant.”

“Good,” Ashvale said, nodding to the guard. “Vigilance is all that stands between the light and the endless dark.” He looked back at Alustrae. “Be careful, Lady. These are strange days. The mages grow bolder, and old alliances are being tested. I heard a rumor about Varlikh.”

Alustrae’s expression tightened. “What have you heard?”

“Just whispers on the wind,” Ashvale said, his eyes narrowing. “That he walks free. That he is not a prisoner, but a guest of the Arcane Sciences. That is not a cage. It is an armory. And a weapon like him... does not sit idle for long.”

His words echoed the fears that had been coiling in Alustrae’s gut. “The right bastard. The Queen must have her reasons,” she said, though the words lacked conviction.

“She always does,” Ashvale agreed. “But her reasons are often written in ink we cannot read. Keep your wits about you, Alustrae. And your guard close.”

“With my life,” Asuka murmured, the promise as solid as the steel at her side. Her gaze flickered to Opalynna, who had grown uncharacteristically quiet, her earlier excitement replaced by a thoughtful gravity.

As they turned to leave, a sibilant, silken voice slithered from the shadows of a marble pillar. “The good Captain is right to be concerned. A loose dagger is a danger to all hands.”

They froze. Talianimi stepped into the light, her dark leather armor seeming to absorb the torchlight, the crimson runes glowing faintly. Her goat-like, violet eyes fixed on Alustrae, a knowing, unnerving smile playing on her lips.

“Talianimi,” Alustrae said, her voice dropping to a calm, neutral tone. “I trust you have an update for me.”

The dark elf’s smile widened, a predator’s baring of teeth. “I do. The mages did not free Varlikh. They... acquired him from the Royal Stockade. There was no official transfer order, no writ of release, no Queen’s seal. He simply vanished from his cell one night and reappeared in the highest spire of the Arcane Sciences, a guest of the Concilium.”

“The Concilium?” Alustrae’s mind raced. The Concilium Arcanum was the most powerful, secretive body within the Academy, a council of archmages who answered to no one but the Queen, and sometimes, not even to her. “What do they want with him?”

“They want what he is,” Talianimi purred, circling them slowly, her gaze sweeping over Asuka’s rigid form and Opalynna’s wide eyes. “They want a tool that knows the Ministry’s secrets. A weapon that can move in the dark, unbound by law or morality. And they want him for... something in the jungle. Something involving fire.”

The words hung in the air, a chilling confirmation of Blaquetail’s warnings. The hellfire weapon. The mages wanted it.

Asuka’s hand was now white-knuckled on her sword hilt. “This is treason. The mages cannot simply abscond with a Crown prisoner.”

“Treason is a matter of perspective,” Talianimi said, her voice calm. “The Concilium serves the Queen’s vision. They believe their actions further Qeynos’s security. They see a powerful weapon, and they do not wish to leave its acquisition to... diplomats and clerks.”

The insult, veiled and venomous, landed squarely. Alustrae’s jaw tightened, but she kept her composure. “And what does Varlikh believe? Has he been... persuaded?”

Talianimi’s violet eyes glinted with a dark amusement. “He believes he is serving the Queen. He has been given a new directive, one that supersedes all others. His loyalty has not wavered. Only the leash-holder has changed.”

A cold dread settled in Alustrae’s stomach. Varlikh’s loyalty was absolute. If he believed the Queen was behind this, he would not question it. He would become the mages’ perfect, ruthless instrument.

“There is more,” Talianimi continued, her smile fading. “The Concilium is not the only one interested in the jungle’s new fires. The cult Captain Ashvale mentioned... they have agents there. They are drawn to the same power. They call it the ‘Breath of the Void.’ They seek not to wield it, but to unleash it. To summon their forgotten god.”

The pieces clicked into place with horrifying clarity. The mages, the cult, Alustrae’s team—all converging on the same point of power. And now, Varlikh was a wild card in the middle of it all, a blade pointed in an unknown direction.

Opalynna, pale but resolute, spoke up, her voice steady despite the tremor in her hands. “Then we must stop them. All of them. The mages and the cultists.”

A flicker of something unreadable—surprise, perhaps even a sliver of respect—crossed Talianimi’s face. “The child speaks truth. But you are outmatched. The mages have Varlikh. The cult has fanaticism. You have... paperwork.”

“No,” Asuka said, her voice cutting through the tension. “We have a duty. And we have each other.”

Talianimi gave a slow, deliberate nod. “Indeed. And you have me. For now.” She turned her unsettling eyes back to Alustrae. “Captain Varlikh is a weapon, Lady D’Arbene. A particular kind. He does not break, he does not bend. But even the finest blade has a flaw. His loyalty is to the Crown. Not to a spire full of whispering wizards. That is the chink in their armor. And yours.”

She let the words sink in before continuing. “He has been tasked with acquiring the hellfire weapon for the Concilium. He is to depart for the jungle within the week. His orders are to... secure the asset by any means necessary. And to remove any... obstacles.” Her gaze lingered on Opalynna. “Including Ministry personnel, should they prove... uncooperative.”

“Let him try,” Asuka snarled, her golden form tensed like a coiled spring.

“Is this information known to the Queen?” Alustrae said. “Or has she been kept out of the loop?”

Tali shook her head. “The wealthy families of Qeynos hear of a weapon as powerful as hellfire, and they see a weapon which could help this city fulfill its colonial dreams of conquest of the world as it shrinks and grows more connected. Queen Antonia is playing a dangerous game, Lady D’Aberne. Her city is full of snakes that bite from the shadows. And one of them is the one you are hunting.”

“I’ll ask her myself,” Alustrae said, turning to look toward the throne room.

“Tread carefully, emissary.” Talianimi’s silken voice was a final warning. “The Queen’s favor is a fickle tide. She may have given the mages their leash, but she will not thank you for revealing her hand.”

With that, she stepped back, the shadows of the marble column seeming to reach out and swallow her. She was gone, leaving only the faint chill of her presence and the scent of ancient secrets.

Alustrae stood frozen for a moment, the weight of Talianimi’s words settling upon her like a shroud. The game had changed. This was no longer a simple investigation. It was a silent war fought in the gilded halls of Qeynos, with Varlikh as the cannonball aimed at her heart.

Asuka broke the silence. “Milady? What are your orders?”

Alustrae’s gaze hardened, the diplomat melting away, replaced by the daughter of a navy captain. “We have an audience with the Queen. We will keep it. We will play their game, Asuka. We will smile and nod and be the loyal servants she expects.” She turned to her daughter. “Opal, I need you to go to the Temple of Love. Find Sister Evangelissa. Tell her what Talianimi said about the cult and the ‘Breath of the Void.’ Ask her about any rituals of protection or banishment that might work against a void-summoning. Be discreet.”

Opalynna, the youthful excitement gone from her eyes, replaced by a determined fire, nodded. “Yes, Mother. I won’t let you down.”

“I know you won’t,” Alustrae said, her voice softening for a fraction of a second before hardening again. “Asuka, you will accompany me to the audience. Your presence is a silent statement. And if things go awry...” She let the sentence hang, unspoken.

Asuka’s hand rested on the hilt of her sword, a silent, golden vow. “Understood.”

Alustrae’s gaze fell on Captain Ashvale.

The grizzled veteran smiled and nodded. “Gadilus will follow your daughter from the rooftops, and he shall not touch her or attempt to make a pass at her, or I will have his balls on a halberd. I will send Trejario to fetch your two elves, Kali and Angel, to let her know she needs a guard.”

As Opalynna hurried off, her blue and white dress a splash of defiant color in the somber hall, Alustrae turned back towards the towering doors of the throne room. “The mages want a weapon. The cult wants an apocalypse. And the Queen wants to play chess with all of our lives. Let’s see how she reacts when we decide to knock over the board.”