The Summit 1 - The Dawn's Beginning

The seven members of the Order slowly marched through the pre-dawn woods, more for the benefit of their non-combatants than for any other reason. Moira found her attention shifting between Lorelei and Cornelius, both unused to such treks due to their area of study and age, respectively. Her gaze lingered on the old sage, worry creeping into her expression.

‘Was it wise to bring him?’ she wondered, questioning her father’s judgment. While Cornelius was something akin to a grandfather to her and had done his duties diligently over the long years, she wasn’t blind to how age had caught up to him. And while magic let humans live longer than their mundane counterparts, it wasn’t a universal thing. Some were only blessed to live a few years longer than average, others were gifted with centuries.

Cornelius fell into the former, and his keen mind had begun to dull. Not to the point of being a detriment to the Order, but he sometimes forgot things. Or took too long to answer something he should know.

His body wasn’t weathering the passage of time any better. His steps slow and unsure at times, his eyes squinted as he tried to read something. His need for more frequent rests. Moira couldn’t help but think that it was a bit cruel to keep Cornelius' workload as high as it had been for decades given his clear slide into the twilight of his life, but at the same time, she understood why her father allowed him to continue on.

All he had was the Order and he diligently worked all his life for the organization. To take that from him was cruel, but wasn’t it just as cruel to let him work himself to ****? Moira found her eyes moving towards her father and, not for the first time, did not envy the burdens upon him, even though she knew they would be hers in time.

Moira mentally shook herself. ‘Focus, Moira. Right now is not the time for your mind to wander. We have a difficult task ahead of us, and it will not do to be distracted.’

Getting her mind back on track was not a simple task, as two of her wayward schoolmates were right at the center of things. Two she had no idea were a part of the Abyss at all and were now key players on a new piece on the board, right as the game was shaken up. Was their sudden rise to prominence a sign from the Lady that they, and by extension their associates, were important to some plan She had?

Was it right to try and demand things from people the Lady had plans for? That was the question that kept coming back to her. Lorelei’s vision was clear that She played some part in the creation of their destination. Did they, even as Her mortal instruments put in place to enforce Her will, have the right to step in and enforce their view on things?

Moira found her eyes on her father once more, intently trying to see if these questions burdened him as much as they did her. He seemed unperturbed by what was plaguing her and it made Moira feel like she was failing in some way. That she was still so far from being able to truly lead the Order.

“Are you alright, honored Warden?” Lorelei suddenly asked, her voice quiet. Between the stomping feet of most of the party and the chorus of early morning birds, Moira believed no one else heard the seer’s question.

“I’m fine,” she whispered back. “Just a lot to think about regarding today’s meeting.”

“We do have quite the task ahead of us today,” the seer said. “But, take heart, honored Warden, for I believe today will mark the beginning of a new chapter in things. Like the dawn we are to witness.”

“Let’s hope your sight is true,” Moira muttered. “I would rather have a willing and enthusiastic ally over one **** into that position.”

Lorelei hummed and Moira imagined she wore a small smile, one the pre-dawn light wasn’t enough to reveal. She found herself smiling too, the seer’s council lifting some of the weight on her. And that was a good thing as the clearing the Pathway sat in came into view and Moira pushed aside her lingering concerns. It was time to be professional.

“Moira, Harlow,” her father’s even voice broke through the quiet, “you will be the vanguard given your experiences.”

Harlow stepped forward and Moira a moment later. This was more than just because they had been the ones here yesterday. He had entrusted them with investigating the blood stealing case and it has led to this. They were the ones in charge, even if they would later take a step back to allow for the more experienced Lord-Protector to lead the negotiations.

Squaring her shoulders, Moira glanced at Harlow and stepped forward, taking the lead. The knight only nodded slightly as she did, stepping into place a pace behind her. Steeling herself, Moira strode to the entry point, barely sensing the tickle of mana that indicated its presence, and pushed open the Pathway.

In an instant, Moira was no longer in the pre-dawn mundane woods but in a well-illuminated glade, emerging at the start of a vine-lined path, each topped with a glowing flower. Standing a short distance from her was the glasses-wearing redhead, dressed in a skirt and blouse combo that made her look more at place in an office than the woods.

She looked a little confused before realization crossed her features as Harlow manifested behind her.

“Ah, you’re coming in slowly,” she said in realization.

“Purely an operational standard procedure,” Moira was quick to assert, lest their host assume they were wary of some kind of ambush.

The bespectacled woman’s expression darkened for a second and Moira thought the worst. Then she nodded and said, “I understand. Last time you were here, you walked into a battlefield.”

“Indeed.” Moira nodded, feeling the slightest pulse of mana from Harlow, the ‘all clear’ signal back through the Pathway to her father. “The rest of our party will be arriving shortly.”

A second later, the remaining five members of the Order emerged and Moira stepped to the side to allow her father to take the lead.

She saw her father’s eyes quickly sweep over the area, before locking onto the woman before them.

“Welcome, honored guests,” she said, inclining her head slightly, “to the Kingdom of Pruzonia. Would you like to partake in a light breakfast or would you prefer to get right to business?”

“I feel we should not waste any more time,” Lord Brighton said in an even tone.

“Understandable,” the Kingdom’s representative said, before making a motion with one hand. “If you would follow me.”

---

Vivian’s alert of the Order’s decision to cut right to the chase caused John’s nerves to double and he felt his gut clench uncomfortably. Glancing around the hall outside of the conference room showed everyone was feeling the pressure, even Harker and Martius seemed on edge. Aeolia kept shifting her balance, swaying side to side every few seconds, her wings held close to her body.

Teri had her eyes closed, her brow furrowed as she muttered something in her native tongue.

‘I wonder if she’s having issues keeping our nerves from affecting her?’ he wondered.

‘It would seem possible,’ Senka thought. She had fully returned to his aura, both of them wanting the safety net of having full mana and the ability for her to appear right beside him should things go south. An event neither of them wanted to happen, but it would be foolish to not have it be considered.

‘And I’m going to guess trying to provide a distraction will just make it worse for her,’ John mused.

‘Most likely,’ Senka answered. ‘She’s had her ability likely her whole life. She knows how to deal with it.’

John nodded slightly as his eyes drifted to Kiera. The bluenette looked like she was about to throw up, her face pale and clammy, and her hands balled tightly into fists. Her eyes occasionally looked towards Verida, the goddess calmly standing closest to the stairs, waiting for their guests.

‘Do you think they’re talking?’ Senka asked as John glanced between the dragon goddess and Kiera.

‘Maybe,’ John replied, closing his eyes. He reached out with Arcane Sense, focused on Kiera. He felt her aura rippled with uncertainty, like a wind unsure of which way it was supposed to blow. Focusing deeper, John could feel the faintest thread stretching out from the bluenette, one that was entwined with another thread, one that radiated Verida’s peaceful and calming aura.

‘That has to be their connection,’ John mused, ‘but if they’re talking, I can’t tell from this.’

‘I suppose we have something similar,’ Senka remarked. ‘I wonder if Mason would reach the same conclusion?’

‘Probably,’ John thought, letting Arcane Sense fade. While maintaining it could have been useful to gauge the temperament of the Order’s representatives, he didn’t want to get overwhelmed by up to seven strong auras. Having a headache before things started would not make things any easier.

He heard Vivian and the Order enter the hall and he swallowed dryly. Everyone else began to straighten themselves out, making sure they looked ready to verbally match whatever the Order would present. All except Kiera, whose breathing began to grow more ragged, her hands braced just above her knees, body hunched over.

John slid next to her and placed a hand on her shoulder, squeezing it gently.

“If you aren’t up for this, say so and you can go,” John said. He kept his voice low but he knew everyone up here could hear him. None of them made any move to remand him.

“I,” Kiera tried to speak, but her words stalled as the steady beat of ascending footsteps echoed around them. “I have to do this. If you guys can fight, I can talk about what happened.”

“Alright,” John grinned at her, hoping it would inspire more confidence in her, “but if you start to feel overwhelmed, we’re not going to stop you from leaving. And we aren’t going to let the Order do anything to you. We’ll keep you safe.”

His declaration seemed to calm her nerves down to a level when she could operate and Kiera’s posture relaxed slightly, her arms coming to hang at her sides. John gave her one last reassuring squeeze before he let go and took a step to the side.

‘Good job getting Kiera to relax,’ Senka let him know, pride and affection flowing out of her and into him.

‘All those extra points to Charisma are finally paying off,’ John replied as Vivian reached the top of the stairs. ‘Let’s hope they’re enough to help today.’

At the head of the Order’s party had to be its actual leader, if the red hair was an indication. He stood somewhat out of place among the armored figures behind him, wearing a very expensive looking suit.

‘Guess there would be a blend of medieval and modern,’ he mused. ‘I wonder why he chose to look more business than knight or lord? Is he trying to present himself as less aggressive?’

It made some sense to John but he couldn’t ponder on it further as Verida began to speak.

“Welcome, those who march by the light of the Highest Star,” Verida greeted them, tilting her head down ever so slightly before pulling back, her words vibrating with the barest hint of her power. “I, Verida, offer to you my hospitality. May peaceful seasons be upon you.”

“And on behalf of the Order of the Golden Rose’s Shield Branch, I, Lord-Protector William Brighton, confer to you the same wish,” the leader of the Order boomed. His voice was not overly loud, but he projected it like a stage actor, ensuring everyone could hear it. For a moment, John wondered if he was using magic to do it, but dismissed the pondering, deeming it not important.

“I believe you’ve indicated you wished to get the meeting underway without delay?” Verida asked, giving the Order one more chance to partake in some food before getting started.

“While I do not wish to speak ill of your hospitality, I feel that we cannot waste time with such niceties,” Lord Brighton said in a measured tone.

Verida nodded. “Then let us begin our talks. You are correct that our mutual foe will not sit idle for us.”

Verida motioned for the Order to follow her and she turned to lead them in. John took in a breath.

‘Well, showtime.’

---

The two sides sat opposite each other, Lord Brighton and Verida at the center of their parties. John found himself seated on Verida’s right, which must signify some level of importance as Moira took the same place in regards to her father. Which meant the bald knight from yesterday sat opposite him as his leader’s left, which still spoke highly of his placement in the Order. Or at least this operation.

Harker sat at Verida’s left opposite Moira, looking the most composed of any of them, minus the goddess herself. To his left Teri and Martius were doing their best to remain composed, an effort both of them were managing decently. The old man who looked every part the wizard archetype and the knight opposite them likewise maintained a level of calm, though John had to wonder if the old man was even fit for this; he seemed more than a little tired.

John glanced to his right where Aeolia and Kiera sat, opposite the modestly dressed woman with her eyes obscured by an elaborate mask of silver and another armored knight. He frowned slightly at how tense Aeolia was and how pale Kiera remained.

‘I hope this doesn’t end up being too much for them,’ he thought, desperately wanting to do anything to help them. His hand twitched as he fought off the urge to seek out Aeolia’s and offer a supportive squeeze.

With everyone seated, Verida spoke up, “I believe the most pressing issue is the one my Guardians brought to your attention, so we shall start there.”

Lord Brighton nodded. “That is the prudent course of action. And given the amount of experiences they seem to have had, it sounds like there’s a lot to discuss.”

“Indeed,” Verida intoned. “And I believe it would be best to take things as they occurred, as best we can. In the Elven Kingdom of Amarlis, one of their princes gained access to a terrible power. He used it to overthrow his brother and began to twist his people to his liking. My progenitor was mortally wounded in a final attempt to stop him.”

Verida paused, letting the enormity of that statement settle upon them. Lord Brighton’s expression grew tight and he glanced to his left. A moment later, the blonde woman across from Aeolia nodded slightly.

“It is no idle statement to claim that someone has the power to fell a god,” Lord Brighton said. “While I have no reason to doubt your word, I do have to question why someone with such a power has remained unknown.”

“That is because he, and the Kingdom, were sealed,” Harker interjected.

Moira leveled a disbelieving glare at Harker. “So, someone with the power to match a god was conveniently able to be locked away from the greater Abyss. That is a far taller tale to believe.”

Harker met the redhead’s steely gaze before he glanced down towards the blonde woman. “Why don’t you ask your seer if my words ring true?”

Moira was about to retort when Lord Brighton placed his hand on her shoulder before looking straight at Harker.

“You seem far more worldly than the rest of your allies,” the leader of the Golden Order said, his eyes piercing.

“I suppose I am,” Harker responded in an even tone. “Is that a problem?”

“If I may, Lord-Protector,” the blonde’s soft voice cut through the tension like a knife. “His words do not bear the mark of falsehood, though the shadow of time clings to them like a thick mud.”

“I never assumed what I know to be the whole story,” Harker freely said.

“Seer Varnik, thank you for your insights,” Lord Brighton remarked, eyes still on Harker. “Let’s hear this recounting.”

“Alright,” Harker said. “I’ll cut out what matches up with what Verida recounted. At some point after the elf prince took control, someone from his past, aware of whatever power he was tapping into, came to stop him. I don’t know if their goal was to talk sense into him, kill him, or if the sealing was the plan all along, but the result was the sealing.”

“This unknown person employed a sword to procure the blood of the elf and enacted the binding escaping somehow before the Kingdom was cut off from the rest of the Abyss,” Harker continued.”

“That implies the seal is more tied to something within the Kingdom than the blade itself,” the old man muttered, more to himself than to the room as a whole. “The blade merely carried the magic and began to process.”

“Well observed, Sage Stolt,” Lord Brighton said, causing the now identified man to blink owlishly. John felt a small pang of sympathy, it seemed the elderly man was not all there. His eyes drifted over the rest of the Order’s party and he saw sadness in Moira’s eyes and a deep frown on Ms. Varnik’s face. Clearly, they’re not too happy with his little slip-up, but more in the ‘are you alright grandpa’ sort of way.

Lord Brighton continued, “An artifact using blood, hmm?”

“Your assumption is correct,” Harker interjected. “That sword is what’s been stealing people’s blood. It was taken from my custody by a woman who went by the name of Flora Giudice. No one in the last thousand years used it to my knowledge.”

Lord Brighton casts a glance at the seer, who nodded solemnly.

“Then I take it you have little knowledge of just how they are employing it, or their plans,” Brighton said.

“Well, I wouldn’t say that,” Harker replied. “I didn’t take getting my family’s sworn duty stolen lying down. But I think Doctor Martius is a better fit for this part.”

“Oh, so now you use the proper term,” the gnome grumbled as he straightened his posture in his chair, modified by Verida to account for his shorter stature. “Martius Velsuis, of Detreye. I’m a researcher in the field of arcane energy interactions. And I developed a means to locate the artifact.”

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