The soldier hurried off into the blackness, the corridors shifting behind him. Accalia shifted for a few moments before she regained control of her phantom. She floated into the compound which she had grown familiar with for the duration of their conflict. Various bits of the rubble which was scattered through Sanctuary had been gathered and constructed into makeshift buildings. Foundations were shoddily forced together by the individuals with the most experience and the people who rested here were always equipped their weapons and other gear. Bonfires illuminated the dark expanse with a strange white flame which offered little to no heat. Accalia mused over the detail of the scattered encampments which were carved into the changing walls of the Lower Sector. They had adapted to the harsh climate found within the domain, a place wrought by evil to enable their survival.

In her youth, Accalia grimaced as a memory surfaced from deep in her psyche. She found herself in the Sanguine Overlord’s room, sitting before Ernald. The great Sanguine Overlord had his room lay bare and the illusion of the immaculate forests of the West encapsulated his fondness for the region. A fabricated breeze flowed through her hair and she brushed her hair behind her ear nervously. Though she was his Royal Vizier, she took no comfort in the silence. His sapphire gaze fixated onto her as he attempted to probe her mind. The ancient Mortem penetrated her defenses with ease and carefully awaited her to respond in kind. She found no purchase once he retreated and their exercise ended.

“You have improved. I am glad for it.” He nodded to her as he finished and a blanket knitted itself underneath their frames. She raised her eyebrows as the illusion mimicked a picnic, a woven basket opened itself. Ernald reached inside and retrieved a sheet of parchment and presented it to her. The Holy Grounds of Sanctuary were sketched hastily, the tower of the Citadel rose into the heavens which below there were details schematics of the place he dubbed: The Lower Sector. Ernald merely watched her drink in the contents of the parchment.

“What is this?”

“That is something to keep them.” He said and he brushed off her look of disgust. “I am know you are a sympathizer, but just know that in Sanctuary everyone has a place. We must all adhere to Sanctuary’s laws which includes vampires. They will not simply abide by the rules we have placed and only want to feed on what they believe is rightfully theirs. I will not have my citizens be butchered to sate their unquenchable thirst.”

The conversation droned on for what seemed an eternity. Her attention was divided elsewhere and she lost the vision altogether. Accalia lowered her gaze and found herself swallowed by the veil she had placed herself in. Her body called to her once again and she faded from view, the darkness within Sanctuary devoured her for a brief moment before she was spat into her room. She took note of all the activities she had done while her soul was off on its rendezvous with Sanctuary’s greatest enemy.

Accalia turned about and found Gavilis standing in the doorway. He appeared to be waiting for an answer, but she could not discern what motions her mouth made. All of the sensations from her absence had returned to her all at once and she felt slightly overwhelmed.

“Have you anything to say?” His tone remained calm despite his body language which portrayed a man beyond furious. She raised an eyebrow to him.

“I’ve nothing to say.”

“Your display at the meeting today only displayed how aloof you have been.” Gavilis warned. “Should any more evidence stack against you, I would have you stripped of your title and exiled.”

“Its none of your concern what I do.” Accalia barked.

“It is my concern. You are my charge, I have been tasked with keeping tabs on you.” Gavilis lowered his gaze and moved to shut the door. “There is much I turn a blind eye because you are a Mortem. Should the tables turn, I know you would have less than adequate mercy for me.”

The door shut with an unusual resonance in her quarters. She knew all too well Gavilis was aware of her activity. Even if the surveillance technology bore no fruit, she knew with his experience and dedication there was little which escaped his vigil. A pang of guilt rushed through her, for she was a Sanctuarian and realized the full consequence of her rebellion. Communing with Hannibal was next to impossible and she knew her options were quickly disappearing into wisps of smoke.

Accalia reviewed his words again. She turned about and noticed there was another waiting for her at the door. They had opened it silently, but waited until she took notice. Ovelia merely smiled at her devilishly. The grin from Sanctuary’s Sanguine Overlord sent chills through her spine and as she blinked, the image faded from view. She rushed to the entrance and glanced about in desperation. Her mind fell for the trap. Accalia summoned her vast array of knowledge to determine the source of the magic. Gavilis, in all his mysterious ways, preferred bravado as opposed to finesse. This aspect allowed her to always pinpoint him as the culprit. Now she realized the prowess of her enemy: the Sanguine Overlord. Not only was she leading Accalia down narrowing hallways which threatened to engulf her. She wandered for a spell and found herself back in her own room.

A thought sprinted through her mind then. Gelehrter, the student of Stolzer--along with Rena--was trapped within a Soul Cube. He would be the easiest to capture and interrogate. Knowledge of forbidden magic spread across her face in a wry grin. The youngest Justicar, whose track record would label him unremarkable, would not be missed. Accalia knew all too well what the ritual Ovelia and Gavilis had performed to trade Rena and Gelehrter from the Soul Cube. Accalia slipped on a pair of slippers and quelled her need to skip with joy. A Soul Cube would not only allow her to escape, but she knew what could be done to silence and harness the magic within.

The spell was fairly simple. All she needed was a little privacy, the last place anyone would dare to look for her would be the interrogation area. The Justicar felt no need to guard the place and would normally leave the prisoner in complete isolation until they cooperated. It was a cruel poison that many would fall before. To the denizens of Sanctuary, loneliness was one of the worst feelings, especially for ones born with such long lives.

Accalia released a pulse of magical energy from a wave of her hand and she vanished from view. Her bare feet padded along the carpets and the stonework, her figure gliding past would be Justicar and other lesser Templarate. She witnessed their training regimen at a glance, but took no time to draw any information. A lift was called by other Templarate who walked casually into the elevator and she slipped in behind them. They were transported to the higher reaches of the Citadel and as they vanished out of sight, she tugged downward onto the lever. She prepared herself for the quick descent.

Her mind raced as she entered the basement of the Citadel. Justicar busied themselves with sharing notes from their missions. Accalia slipped past them and when they turned away, she silently opened the door and stepped inside. The interrogation chambers were empty. There were signs of Gavilis’s involvement earlier, for only he would be allowed to utilize the chamber to its full potential. The room was possibly bugged, but she knew from experience nothing would be able to see her. However, seeing her was not the issue. The door was opened with no one there. It would only be a matter of time before suspects were drawn. Accalia snapped her fingers and willed Time to halt for an instant. She appeared and blood dripped from her nose. She raced into the chamber as her vision began to darken only to find a shimmering Soul Cube. Accalia reached for it hungrily, but her hand only met air.

She released the magic from within and she wiped away the blood from her nose in frustration.