The Great Escape

Audience Part II

"Marquess Monroe." Alpha Theodore entered the meeting room.

"Alpha Theodore." Marquess Edith stood up from his chair and extended his left hand for shaking. Alpha Theodore raised a greying eyebrow but shook the extended hand of the pure-blooded vampire nevertheless.

Night had fallen down upon the land of Rotus. The meeting room they sat in was spacious with candle stands screwed into the walls to keep it illuminated. The tables and chairs were set up in the middle of the room with a chandelier hanging above. On the left corner of the room, bottles of wines and other alcoholic beverages were kept decorated in the glass shelves. On the right, three large arch shaped windows looked down upon the town of Summerswind.

The town square was visible from there. The magnificent marble statue of Darthman, the Silver blooded, stood more proud than ever. It's eyes stared right into the building, through the arched windows. The moonlight bathed it in an eerily beguiling glow. It looked more ethereal, more lively than it looked in the day. The hollow eyes seemed to have life energy breathed back into them. Their stare pierced the soul of onlookers, as if warning.

Edith had heard of the tales of valor of Darthman. The first Alpha King. The ruler of the werewolf realm. The greatest mortal devotee of Moon God Aathir. The ballads the nomadic werewolves sang described their story as one of pain, suffering, longing yet empowering and emboldening.

They spun the tale of a young shifter slave of demons who only found solace in the moonlight of Red Island, an otherworldly place where outcast demons reside. They sung of his tragic past, of his exploitation in the hands of the horrendous creatures. They spoke of how one night, a man with long white hair and piercing black eyes appeared in front of him and asked for his utmost devotion. They stated how he hesitated initially but caved in as the man— who called himself Aathir— gradually healed his battered soul. They composed melodies about the declaration of love and war. They hollered about the decline of Red Island Demons and their Warlord Zerishi.

"When I received your letter—"  Edith's attention was snapped back to the present as he heard Alpha Theodore speak as he sat down in the chair, right in front of the Marquess, "— requesting for an audience two days ago, I did not reckon it would be this soon you would be meeting me."

"My manners command me, Alpha Theodore." Edith occupied his designated seat as well. He opened the buttons of his blue overcoat, his blue waistcoat in full display. A small dagger, poisoned with silver, hung upon the waistband of his trousers which his overcoat hid from the Alpha's view. "And they command me to value the preciousness of time. I deemed tarrying any further to be unnecessary."

"Well said." Alpha Theodore rubbed his wrinkled hands together.

"I hope you find your stay comfortable here. How was the journey?" Alpha Theodore continued.

"I could not be any more grateful for your hospitality. Everyone here is immensely—" Edith licked his lips, "—accommodating. The journey as well was pleasant. Though, I happen to be a resilient traveller. Hence, the horses and my servants would be better judges for that." He chuckled.

"It is good to hear you found no troubles on your way here."

"I found enough at my borders, Your Highness."

The Alpha's face slowly contorted at the Marquess' statement.

"Pray tell, what is the matter?"