“Let the Marchioness know of my situation.” Lith had never forgotten about Lady Distar’s barrette that shielded her magical talent from detection.
According to Orion, cloaking devices were a state secret that couldn’t be given out without the permission of the Royals. Marchioness Distar was supposed to be just a medium rank noble, yet she had one and even pretended to not have magical powers.
Lith didn’t know that she actually was the Lord Commander of the Queen’s Corps and a personal friend of the Queen, but during his time at the academy, he had understood that her role in the Kingdom wasn’t as simple as it appeared.
“Kami, the Count is right. Can you dig up information about Meln, Orpal, or whatever name he uses now?” Lith asked.
“I can, but not from here and not now. I’m on leave and to access the Constable network while not being part of any investigation would raise a flag in the system.” She replied.
“There’s no rush.” Lark dismissed the issue with a wave of his hand. “Now that Lith is here I doubt Meln will dare show his face. Even if he does, I’m certain that digging for information or for a grave will be equally easy.”
The nobleman steel gaze and Lith’s nod in reply told the two women that they weren’t joking.
“How are you faring, dear Lark?” Lith tried to lighten the mood after noticing the shocked expression of his companions.
“Retirement is good, you should give it a try. My children have grown into fine administrators and their Counties are thriving while I’m free to spoil my grandkids.” Lark moved the communication amulet, to show them a series of family paintings depicting five happy-looking children of different ages.
Among his many hobbies, Lark had a knack for painting.
“I’m glad to see that the Lark bloodline is safe.” Lith said with a smile while remembering about his short stay at the Count’s manor as a child.
“Maybe and maybe not.” Lark chuckled and showed Lith a small piece of paper that he used as a bookmark.
It had a single word written on it: Past.
“What the heck? This isn’t a joking matter, that’s Balkor’s warning!” Its sight sent a cold shiver down Tista’s spine.
Ilyum Balkor, the god of death, was the bogeyman who had terrorized the Griffon Kingdom for eleven years. He had single-handedly put the whole country on its knees by slaughtering the upper echelons of the most important institutions every year on the anniversary of the death of his family.
“No, it’s not.” Lark shook his head. “A lot of maniacs use Balkor’s signature card to play stupid pranks or send death threats. I sent it to the Balkor Department, just to be sure, and they confirmed my suspicions.
“The paper is wrong, the ink is wrong, the handwriting is wrong. I mean, why would Balkor resent me? I’m no one and he didn’t live in Lustria. This is just the sick joke of some psycho.”
“Let’s hope you are right.” Lith didn’t feel as calm as the Count. The only time he had faced Balkor’s undead army, he had almost lost Protector and his life force had been crippled as result.
“Soon there will be a Royal gala for reasons that I cannot disclose as of yet, but I would like to bring both you and the Marchioness as my guests.”
“It will be my pleasure.” Lark nodded. “My heart hopes it’s about your engagement announcement but cold logic dictates it must be about another one of your insane achievements.”
Lark had noticed how the others didn’t find the fake Balkor note as funny as he did so he rushed to a more embarrassing topic to lighten the mood. The Count asked the three of them a lot of personal questions until Balkor was the last thing on their mind.
Meanwhile, a similar conversation on a completely different tone took place on one of the Griffon Kingdom’s safest channels.
“Who else did get one?” Marchioness Mirim Distar held a piece of paper identical to the one Lark had received between her index and medium finger.
“In the White Griffon, we got four. Me, Vastor, Manohar, and Wanemyre.” Headmaster Duke Marth said while showing four cards on his desk.
“My husband and I got one each as well. Whoever this is, they got guts. They didn’t come through the regular mail, I found them in my bedroom.” Archon Jirni Ernas said.
“What’s your conclusion?” Queen Sylpha asked Pazeol Vyntar, one of the leading figures in the Balkor department.
He was a man in his mid-twenties with black hair and brown eyes. Three long and thin scars ran from his jaw to his neck. They were the marks left by Balkor’s Valors during his attack on the six great academies seven years back.
Like many students who had survived, Pazeol had decided to keep his scars to never forget and never forgive the Blood Magus.
“This is not Balkor, but a crafty copycat.” His face was cold, but a burning rage lit his eyes.
“The MO, the delivery mode, and even the timing of the notice doesn’t match. Whoever it is, they have the resources to get to the fake info we use as bait to find corrupt high-level clerks but no actual knowledge of how Balkor moved.
“There’s no way to know if it’s another necromancer, a terrorist, or just an idiot until the day of the anniversary. I’d like to take charge of the investigation and of punishing the culprit.”
“Denied.” Archon Ernas replied. “I didn’t find anything and I doubt you can do any better. One wrong move and we risk alerting our enemy of how seriously we’re taking their threat.
“The ego of someone who tries to steal Balkor’s spotlight can’t afford to be ignored. We’ll make our preparations in silence and let them come to us.”
“But-”
“I agree with Archon Ernas.” The Queen cut Pazeol short and ended the debate. “Any idea what the endgame of our enemy might be, Spellbreaker Pazeol?”
“Aside from the obvious answer, none. Those who have received the threats have only one thing in common, they all helped Archmage Verhen in the past.” He said.
***
After the meeting ended, Jirni took a magically sealed box out of her dimensional amulet. The complex cloaking spells engraved on its surface made it invisible to both mystical and physical means of detection.
Not even a Royal Forgemaster could find it, only the one who had imprinted it could perceive the box. Once opened, it revealed to contain an odd-looking communication amulet made of Orichalcum instead that of silver and with a violet mana crystal fueling it.
“Do you know anything about this story?” Jirni asked after repeating everything she had just learned.
“Only that it wasn’t me and that I don’t care for copycats. Yet if they dare to desecrate the death of my family to try and turn my legacy for their gains, I’ll make sure that’s the last mistake they ever make.”
Ilyum Balkor had no love left for the Griffon Kingdom, yet he couldn’t stand idly while everything he had worked hard for, to the point of sacrificing most of his life force, was twisted beyond recognition.
