Chapter Two:

Faunia Vleren

"These years will come to be known as the two-hundred years of silence. A dark age, in our society's history of them..."

"Faunia Vleren, step forward." commanded the hulking, white-furred azar seated on the opposite side of the bronze training room.

Faunia stepped onto the round sparring platform in the center, away from the line of soldiers.

"For your capture of the boy Cedric, we grant you two months' leave."

"Thank you sir, but I'll be staying through that duration."

"Oh? I didn't realize I was giving you that option."

She flexed her jaw uncomfortably and cleared her throat, "His imprisonment holds relevance to the entire country, if the Cromer Incident was truly his doing. As Freiya'kara's second-in-command, I'd like to oversee it as well. Once his execution is processed, I'll take that leave."

Akvum looked more displeased than seemed reasonable. He waved her back into line.

"Vyncis, step forward."

The man to her right, with a black ponytail and a square jaw, stepped forward.

"You'll be receiving the ritual for your own set of golden eyes, for your own part in the boy's capture. See head medic Iefyr immediately once we're concluded here, and…"

Akvum's voice was drowned out by the black-robed and hooded man on Faunia's left muttering, "Damn cat, trying to get rid of you, and giving your precious promotion to that worm?"

Faunia held her tongue, for the sake of the ceremony.

"Thank you, sir." Vyncis said as he fell back into line.

Applause rang out. Faunia joined, of course, though the robed man stood silently.

"That concludes our ceremony. Everyone else, return to duty as normal. Siln has been rampant with ogres as of late; we'll need it cleaned up before tomorrow's training exercises, or we'll scare off the newbies. Caloria be with you all."

The soldiers gave firm chest-cross salutes, then marched in sequence back into the wide, sprawling hallways of the pyramid fortress.

Faunia grabbed the robed man's shoulder and pulled him aside just as quickly as they had left the room.

His gaunt, pale face turned into a big grin, "Ooh, going to hit me, you loathsome barbarian?"

"Damn you, Jirtu. Can a Hunter not be content just as that?"

"People who grow content die in dirt. People who are longing will fight to die upon a throne. Or, did my guess about your jealously strike true?"

Faunia grit her teeth.

Jirtu laughed, "You Vlerens have ever been greedy. 'Tis a shame to see that trait of their lineage die with you."

Before she could rebuttal, he was already walking away.

Then it was Vyncis who approached her.

"Ignore whatever that bastard says. I'm oft surprised we even let him in here…"

"Another man with no surname. It's beginning to seem like a sign of derangement."

Vyncis grinned, though his worn, big-nosed face never quite looked happy. "There are many people who would like to forget their past. The things we've done to survive… imagine what a mage like Jirtu may have done, or a Sylvet defector like Cedric."

"Imagine the things you still do — survival be damned."

Vyncis raised his eyebrows slightly, and replied, "Saving the boy? Well, yes, he was injured, Faunia. He'll never walk again, let alone fight."

"I did not know that Azar'kara ascribed sympathy to Sylvet, in any circumstance. The things they've done..."

"Faunia..." he smiled, feigning politeness, "You misunderstand the process. Freiya'kara talks up our iron fist on Sylvet, but... there's still interrogations to be held, paperwork to be completed... it takes longer than to just cut his throat and call it a day. Leave it to us. We've handled this many times."

Her fists clenched by her sides.

"I'm off to medical. Don't go picking any more fights with Jirtu, eh?" he laughed and playfully smacked her on the shoulder.

She scowled as he turned the corner. Then she turned away. There are more important fools to waste my breath on.

Finally, after hours of silence, a light flared up in his chamber. A white light, which floated solemnly in the center of the silent room. The leylines told him what was already obvious – it was a magical light.

Then the cell door hissed open and clamped shut. There were two to keep him locked away, and, a moment later, that second door rang out with the same hisses and clicks. A glowing figure entered the room.

Faunia Vleren. his eyes narrowed.

Silver haired, pale-skinned and beautiful. Her sharp jaw had a masculine inclination to it, though there was no mistaking her for a man. Her Hunters' armor matched her glistening appearance, down to the white gloves and steel boots that she wore.

And in that moment, he became assured: his left eye had gone completely blind.

"Cedric Castelbre."

"Faunia Vleren, aren't you far from home?"

"So you recognize me."

He shrugged, "Anybody would. Your name is fairly popular. Everyone knows the Silver Sword of Freiya."

"But most haven't been there themselves."

"I'm sure."

She stepped closer to him. Her eyebrows raised slightly. "You've got heterochromia."

"I'm blind. It's to be expected."

"But that is not the eye of a blind man." her glove pushed up on his jaw as she got close, peering into his damaged left eye. "It's scarred, yes, and bloodshot… but it's as if it's glowing. Teal. And I can tell it sees the light."

He pulled away. "This isn't how I expected we'd meet."

"No, I'm sure you'd have preferred to meet with our swords crossed."

He didn't respond for a moment, then he asked, "How many died in Cromer?"

Her rage swelled, "You've forgotten?"

"I never knew in the first place."

After grinding her teeth, she said, "By some miracle, most of the wounds were easily mended. We saved the lives of most who were in your way. Still, thirty men fell."

Cedric grasped for his amulet, before he remembered that he had lost it. Thank the land… I thought it had been dozens more… I wonder, had my will over Serkukan been so powerful? Potent enough to turn his killings into mendable wounds? Or had he held back, even then?

"Your reaction is… surprising to me." she twisted her lips.

"Why?"

"You look somewhat relieved. Does the Sylvet consider even that a victory?"

"I'm not who you think I am. Though, I'm sure you saw my tattoo…"

She nodded.

Indeed, he lifted his shirt to reveal the intricate black tattoo that covered most of his chest. Sylvet did not need to be smart enough for magic, so long as they had tattoos that could activate spells for them.

"That's plenty of evidence against me… Why haven't I been executed yet?"

"Ever a great question. If there's nothing you need, I'll go find out."

"A bath would be nice."

She grimaced as she grabbed the door handle. "I'll let them know."

"Is that... all you came for?"

She didn't move.

"Surely you're not content with that. Surely there was more to ask. Are none of you going to interrogate me?"

"Your..." she turned to him again, "Your eyes betray you. You did not kill those men in Cromer.

But your tattoo alone warrants your execution."

The door hissed open, and she left.

My eyes... betray me?

Faunia placed her back to the sealed chamber door. She gasped and panted, as though the room was deprived of air to breathe.

"Why... why did I say that? Something is wrong with me..." she grabbed her chest.

One of the guards approached from the opposite wall, "Miss Vleren, are you alright?"

"I'm fine. I'll be alright..." she waved away his offer for assistance and stood, beginning back toward the dungeon entrance.

"Akvum," Faunia declared as she opened the door to his chamber and stuck her head in. "Oh, sorry."

Akvum's chamber, in contrast to the rest of Azar'kara, was made of light, beautifully polished wood, rather than shimmering bronze and marble. Every table and surface in the small, cluttered room had carved totems placed atop them, seemingly arranged by size. In the center was Akvum's desk, where he sat across from Vyncis.

The hulking azar glanced up from his conversation. Vyncis turned too, though a black blindfold covered his eyes.

"Yes, Faunia?" he sighed.

"I only meant to inquire if Cedric's execution paperwork had been filled out."

"His execution?" Vyncis asked. He scratched his dark hair.

Akvum sighed again and thought for a moment. He said, "Truthfully, it's hard to pin the Caloria incident on him. Those wounds were otherworldly. And he's no mage."

"Even so, he bears Sylvet tattoos–"

"The boy appears as nothing more than a scapegoat. It isn't an uncommon tactic, though particularly lazy this time. We're likely being misled by the same pack that was running around Siln the past few months, that... Ilvas and his ilk. If Sylvet magic were used in Cromer, it would be a different story, but..."

She bit her lip anxiously. "I see." she said, and closed the door.

"She's putting the pressure on."

"I'm assuming his paperwork doesn't exist." asked Vyncis.

Akvum glared at him.

"So, shouldn't we get rid of her? We can summon Ivalié…"

"Not in a million lifetimes. If Ivalié discovers we're sheltering a Sylvet..."

"But the boy'll never walk again, isn't that right?"

"Not without legs, he won't."

"That should hardly qualify him as Sylvet at all. It seems we have little choice but to wait for Axys Amar."

Akvum folded his paws before his face.

"Do not let her interfere. If it goes any further, have the guards bar her from visiting his cell. I doubt we'll get away with idle placations for long."

Vyncis stood and crossed his arm over his chest in salute. "Yes, sir."

"Oh, one more thing. Summon Marisol, from Group R2, at her leisure."

"Marisol?"

"Just do it."

"Yes, sir."