What Is Done

Chapter 11 - Brave Enough

The left high and dry city of Dirkk disturbed me the second time we had to walk through it even more. Our new dragon companion perched himself on top of a nearby building, keeping a close watch on us frail little elves. We climbed the shallow stone stairs to the entrance of the castle. A Dwarven pattern was engraved into it. Dwarves took their stone carving skills seriously. A big part of the Muoen Nation was mining and blacksmithing like elves cultivated magic and vegetarian foods.

Sellion had tried pushing the doors open, only to find out they were locked. "What kind of imbecile locks the castle up before leaving indefinitely?" He tried thrusting his elbow through the door, hoping for something to happen. When nothing did, Sellion stomped around to the side of the building.

"I bet someone like him would," Essaerae jokingly suggested to me as we followed him around the corner.

There was a window that was the closest to the ground but still above any of our heads. Sellion stared at it as if he was contemplating something. Figuring what could be going through the maniac's head, I piped up.

I crossed my arms, approaching Sellion, knowing exactly what he was thinking of doing. "This is márcel es oliner." 

Sellion stammered at the ridiculousness of my plain moral compass in the current situation. "Wh-who's going to write me up? There's nobody here!" I am sure even Zalzreog heard him complain. I simply shrugged, he was probably right. Then Sellion sighed and disappeared in a burst of small blue lights. He'd done something that I hadn't seen him do in a while.

Essaerae jumped back. "He disappeared!" We saw the same blue lights appear inside the window.

"Teleported." I said nothing more.

"Teleported?" she repeated.

Sellion poked his head out of the window after opening it. "It's a rare magical ability few can master. I'm the first to master it in a few thousand years. Not even Valka or Valka's magic teacher could master it. It was pretty easy once I got the hang of it." Sellion turned his head away, looking around the room, studying it. "I'll find something that I can let you in with."

A few minutes later, Sellion threw a makeshift rope out the window, made from bedsheets and curtains.

Essaerae and I climbed into the room. The room was messy. Books were scattered everywhere, the mirror on the vanity was cracked. A portrait of a pair of people was torn up. It was a bedroom. Likely not a guest room as it looked like somebody slept there every night. I assumed it was Krommiir's room.

"Looks like Prince Krommiir cleaned about as much as you do, Sellion." I laughed to myself, trying to lighten the mood with sarcasm. I had seen Sellion's apartment on my castle grounds. It could be plainly described as a carriage wreck. If you thought Sellion smelled bad, wait until you saw his apartment. His decorating style is about ten times worse.

Essaerae read the inscription under the ruined portrait aloud. "King Thelmun and Prince Krommiir." I don't like how royals always have to look so serious in their official portraits. I felt like the grave expressions of King Valka of the painted portraits in the Castle of Glass were lying about his true nature.

Sellion opened the door to the room and gazed into the hallway. "Krommiir's father was Thelmun?"

"Guess so. Why?" Essaerae pressed up against him, pushing him out of the room.

"Thelmun was assassinated by marauders." Sellion poked his head into the hall. He wandered through the halls, opening random doors and immediately shutting them. I thought that was a strange piece of history. Maybe that's what happened to Dirkk.

Sellion darted around swiftly, continuing to open things and slamming them shut when he didn't find what we were looking for.

Sooner or later, I got annoyed with Sellion opening things only to shut them again. I grabbed his hands to keep him from continuing. "Stop."