Weight of the World

Chapter Fifty-Five

—Tregaar—

The temperature of the room plunged into icy levels. Idelle shifted uncomfortably in her seat, avoiding eye contact with the Eclipse leaders. They had been discussing their position with the leaders when one of them had mentioned an alliance between their two groups. Virmira had been willing, asking for further clarification on what their role would be when one of the leaders had the audacity to say that it shouldn't matter what the Conclave asked of them seeing as how it was only because of their kindness that they lived. They were in their debt.

Surprisingly, it was not Virmira who had taken offense to that statement, but Hubert, who had offered only a quiet, 'oh really,' and stared down the old man who thought they would roll over and do whatever they asked. There was one member of the Conclave, however, who seemed to have more of a reasonable head on his shoulders. The one who had saved them from the Black Knight. Khalid, he had called himself. He rose to his feet quickly, trying to control the situation. Intimidation would not help them here, and Khalid knew it.

A swift knock at the door diverted their attention, however. One of Eclipse's guards came in and bowed to deliver a message. There were visitors, who—the messenger never got to finish. Someone burst in behind them, knocking the guard over in their haste to get inside.

Idelle shot out of her seat the moment she recognized their faces. Osric was carrying an unconscious Fjola in his arms, his eyes wide as he searched for them. Eclipse was drawing their weapons, expecting some sort of fight as they rushed to intercept Osric, but Idelle threw them all back as she hurried forward, refusing to let them hurt her friends.

Osric knelt, lying Fjola on the ground for her to better tend to her friend's wounds. There was a commotion in the chamber as Eclipse tried to figure out what was happening, but then, suddenly, everyone went quiet. Idelle glanced up, worried some new danger had emerged. Through the door stepped the Nightwarden, collected and calm as though all was normal. To Eclipse, however, it likely looked as though the devil himself had just come inside. But there was no danger for Idelle, and so, she returned her attention to Fjola.

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

In the end, the wound was easily healed. The only concern was the amount of blood Fjola had lost, and that was something only time could mend. Regardless, Fjola was out of danger now and resting in Eclipse's infirmary. Osric sat at her bedside, his head hung low as he clutched her hand. They had all gathered in the infirmary with him, delaying their negotiations with Eclipse for the time being. The Conclave hadn't been happy when they had all retreated into the infirmary, but Virmira had made it abundantly clear: they were not to be disturbed.

"What happened?" Hubert asked quietly as they sat together.

"The Path," Osric raised his head, a snarl on his lips. "Fjola and I were headed toward the Third Marker when I felt the light creeping dangerously close. I expected Pathfinders or perhaps a Silencer. Instead, the Herald of Light, Kellaran, and an Archbishop came for us."

Virmira turned from where she stood. "Kellaran? The Prophetess herself came to you? How did she even know you were there?"

"This...Herald of Light. She seemed the leader of their merry band, and when she advanced, she spouted some nonsense about trying to track you down, my lady. I believe she convinced the Prophetess to come with her."

Dante frowned, leaning forward in his chair to rest his chin upon his steepled fingers. "Herald of Light? I confess, I had heard rumors of such a title, but I can't say that I know anything about them. What is their role?"