Harken

Chapter 11

Anicetus was already boiling over with fury when the letter came. It was small, blank and tinged a yellowish brown but it's wax seal showed it was from his brother. He'd already run out of the potion necessary for his physical disguise, yet he was still able to convince a naive new recruit to fetch him some more. A smug grimace appeared as he tore open the letter, skimming its contents. Anicetus felt the need to laugh; the great Harken and his brother, asking him to meet them? They made it sound like it would end in peace, but that wouldn't happen if he could stop it. But the uptight, neat way the letter was written disturbed him. It read:
To the leader of the rebellion,
We've not been on the same side for so long. Maybe we will be forever. But talks can take place, 11pm at Silva church. A place of worship will null our hatred, and yours, until we can find a way to settle our differences. Please accept, for your sake.
Harken and Alexiares
They may have asked for neutrality in a holy place, but devils never listen to angels.
******
Nekrah had received a similar letter, perched on the end of his bed with the beginning of a cold sweat forming on his brow. He studied each word carefully, trying to decipher the code which would tell him if this note was all a sick joke. That there was no attempt of peace, that things would go on like before. And he wouldn't have to confront the feeling of deja vu: he had done something just like this when he was young, when Inanis still stood as a victorious nation. But it had fallen, taking most of his humanity with it. He breathed a long exhale. Nekrah would have to got to this conference and see for himself for the letter did not betray its writers. That Jainko's eerie prophecy at a death by Harken's hand would no longer come to be. He rose, his legs shaking. He had never been like this before and still life had twisted him into a thing he couldn't recognise in a polished, diamond mirror. She couldn't have either.
******
The Vicar Wallace Horton was horrified. His church had not had this many pre-planned visitors since well before Nekrah's reign and only now was he realising that it's dust was unfit for receiving them. The idea of so many he could potentially convert, however, spurred him into a delirious internal frenzy. Horton lay down the polite request letter, grabbed a tatty quill and drafted a positively inclined reply. With a loud thump and the moulding of glittering gold wax, the responding letter was in the hands of a messenger with competent speed. Horton began rearranging things.
******
Alexiares smiled warmly at the reply received, titling each parchment so Harken could have a similar optimistic reaction. They'd been disheartened by the callous words of Alex's brother but they had yet to read Nekrah's. And when they did, the silver-edged letter glistened and surprised them. For the great leaders final words were:
I look forward to it, machine made angel