Chapter Fifty

White descended further into the underground prison two steps at a time. Contrary to the drab dust ridden tunnels and stone halls leading up to the entrance, the prison itself was nearly as immaculate as White’s own estate. The lower he traveled, the wider the stairwell became. The higher the ceiling. This place and its lone inhabitant were his best kept secrets.

Even from barely halfway down he could hear the shuffling of tomes sliding, pages turning, and an overture of a well inked pen scribbling down thoughts with a quickness White once thought had purely been for show. The increasingly large library of hand written tomes quickly dispelled any thoughts of the sort.

Though still fuming from Reginald Enchans untimely- yet entirely necessary, execution- Lord White was legitimately excited for his upcoming visit. A quick chat with “God” always lifted his spirits, and not only because he knew how totally his captive despised him. White often left their meetings with more than one epiphany. He always made his exit in a better mood than his arrival. His prisoner seemed to have grown quite aware of this fact as all along the sides of the ever widening staircase, made entirely of transparent crystalline stones that had once adorned White’s estate in place of the now glittering marble, there were thousands of wysterian buds. Lord White’s favorite flower.

“Where ever did you acquire all the seeds for such a marvelous display?” White spoke to himself as he ran an ungloved hand over the velvety wall of flowers. “Smuggled in, all those years ago? But how?” He found himself still pondering possibilities as he stepped atop the last transparent stone stair, utterly lost within his own thoughts. It had been a while since he'd been given a good puzzle to solve. Quite a long while.

What an unexpected blessing. Hah!

Lord White, Grand Councilor of all remaining lands and people of Noctra, demolisher of the Ta’ and Nomad races, hummed and skipped his way across an impeccably clean floor composed of the purest sandstone humanity had ever known. Here too, White’s prisoner littered gargantuan bouquets of beautiful purple flowers that emitted iridescent light all about the otherwise empty loft. The next room was quite the same, albeit covered wall to wall with shelves, tables, desks, cabinets, and even a few wardrobes full of tomes.

All written by White’s captive. A true treasure trove of knowledge. Some days White wanted to burn them all, watch the ashes crackle and hiss as they died out, taking all that knowledge- that power- with them. Today, however, he relished in their sight; his mood only a tad bit hampered to know he would never get a chance to read them all.

The rustling of paper stopped but the quill scribbling persisted.

“I was beginning to wonder if you’d ever make your way back down here.”

A shaggy head of white, red, and black hair hung down past the prisoners shoulders, tied back with a string torn from his own extravagant clothing. Each collection of twisted, dry dreads shone with a near imperceivable amethyst hue as torch light reflected off of it. His beard was much the same, tied and knotted in various manners in it’s descent to the prisoner’s lap. Today his eyes were a bright lilac with an iridescent iris and his skin tone seemed to shift beneath the estorches situated high above. One moment the prisoner’s skin was a blazing mahogany, the next he looked like a native Trallen with red umber tones. It was almost as if White’s eyes were playing tricks on him.

As beautiful as ever.

“Do you intend to gawk at me like that the entire time or may we finally begin? I have much more work to do, as you are well aware. Elias!”

White snapped to attention at the prisoner’s raised voice and he met the man’s intense glare with a childish smile and series of unrestrained laughter. When he could catch his breath once more White sat across from the prisoner’s desk and waved a hand to the man before him who promptly scoffed and opened a thick tome. He flipped to a blank page, nearly at the leather bound journals end, and sighed.

“When we last spoke you told me you’d sent the poor girl- Korrin- to spy on your lone Ta’, correct?”

“Yes.” Impeccable memory, as always. Lord White chuckled louder than intended.

“Then begin from there, Elias.”

***

He’d spent the last eight years hoping he would never again see Lord Elias White’s belligerently smiling face. His nightmares were populated with nothing other than the image of the vile man laughing away at his own triumphs and failures. Collateral damage be damned, Lord White always got what he wanted. Eventually.

“ So… You’ve lost the Shadow child and Changeling child?”

“Marina and Senfe. Yes. I’m still not quite sure on the events of Marina’s passing other than Ragoth, who is at large, seems to be responsible for her untimely demise. Hah! Who would have thought?”

Perhaps someone with a conscience. “And Korrin?”

Elias White smiled but the prisoner could see the Lord’s fist clamp onto one another at the name. While his hands remained their natural tawny, orange-brown color, White’s knuckles looked entirely fawn, pushing dangerously close to actually being white.

“I don’t know.”

The prisoner wrote a few notes down without saying a word.

“Alright then, we must speculate I suppose. For posterity's sake we need a full picture. ”

Elias sat forward and eyed him with stark white eyes for a moment, his smile never fading. Lord White’s hand’s began to tremble but he sighed and shook his head before sitting back.

“If you say we must, then we must. I suppose.”

He noted that the following was speculation on his journal and peered over the top of the page at Elias.

“Begin, will you?”

Anger flashed in Elias’s eyes but vanished with a short, harsh chuckle.

“Yes… alright then. I can only imagine that it is possible that I, presumably, underestimated the Ta’s abilities.”

“Ta’K.”

“I know his name.” White snapped. His lips twitched but did not falter into a frown.

“I underestimated Ta’K’s ability to connect others through essence. There was a moment in the fields where everyone within proximity to him simply froze. Every one of them sobbed holding to one another, even Amberosin! There is no way she saw anything, for reasons you are utterly aware of, but still she clung and cried. Bah. Afterward… Heria and Korrin seemed to be aware of… well, everything.”

Elias let his gaze cast to the sandstone floor at their feet. His smile was present, though somehow seemed rueful.

Serves you right, you sadistic bastard.

“Though, technically, did everything not go according to your own plan?”

Lord White seemed to inflate, to lighten a little. He chuckled with a hand over his mouth.

“Yes, yes I guess you are right!” White laughed with a drunken gusto, one hand atop his mouth, the other his gut. Tears spilled from his crystalline like eyes and soaked the floor below him.

The prisoner wrote all the while, eager to have the task done as soon as possible. Having Elias White as his one and only visitor over the years had given the prisoner an entirely newfound appreciation for solitude.

“Compose yourself, Elias. We are not finished yet.”

At one point he would have never spoken to his dear friend in such a manner. He’d always named everyone by their official titles in his works and did so in person as well. But he was tired. Old. Worn. If Elias White killed him for a sharp tongue now, then so be it.

He wouldn’t of course. Elias only laughed and dried his cheeks.

“Ah, you are such a refreshing presence to have around, old friend.”

“It truly warms my heart to hear you say so, Elias.”

“Hah! At least you know what to call me! Fucking fumbilng servants, soldiers, and nobles alike can’t decide on a damn moni-”

The prisoner cleared his throat.

“Right, right you are Argonia! Onward, forever onward!”

White’s jubilant exuberance made Argonia’s back muscles tense.

“And what is onward, Elias? What is ahead of us now?”

Elias White grinned from ear to ear as he rose from his chair.

“Why, the end of course. And a beginning. But, where I am most concerned… the end approaches.” He donned his double horned Legends mask and slid two white leather gloves over his dry hands. “And Argonia? The Eye hasn't moved since that day.” He paused with a chuckle. “I guess you were right afterall, old friend.”

Argonia’s quill scribbling rang out as White left to ascend the stairs back into the real world. When he heard the large metal doors close and click above he sighed heavily and slumped his shoulders. His quill finally stopped, for a succinct moment.

“Goodbye, Elias.”

***

Argonia Slib always managed to leave Lord White with a gut sore from laughter and a heart burdened by grief. The man himself was a casual reminder that his best laid plans often left him lonely. Conflicted, at the least. However, Lord White was dedicated to his cause, no matter the pain it would bring his way. White was certain he would be the one to pave the way to Noctra’s one and only chance at survival. He knew that if he failed he would witness the world’s end. Elias White refused to stand idly by and watch the approaching destruction of everything he held dear.

Never again. No matter the cost… it will never happen again.

Just as with his descent, White ascended the long stairwell taking two steps at a time. He ran his gloveless hand along the wall as far as the wysterian buds went and adorned his white leather gloves once more as he neared the top. Waiting for him outside of the first door to the underground prison was Reginald Enchan’s headless corpse.

“Oh, Reginald… I did love you so dearly. You fucking fool.”

With a snap of Lord White’s fingers Reginald Enchan’s decapitated mass disintegrated, pooling blood and all, without so much as a gasp of dying essence. Unlike the onslaught of amatuer casters that now littered Noctra, none of White’s essence disappeared. It all returned to him. He hated thinking of how he was going to break this to Reginald’s wife and last remaining son. White couldn’t help but cringe at how awkward a conversation that was going to turn out to be.

Perhaps I could have someone else deliver the message… no, no. I’ve done that with the last three children and the woman is already grief stricken. I suppose it cannot be helped.

White grumbled to himself as he approached the final door that led back into the public segments of the estate. The prospect did little to actually dampen his pleasant mood but he knew it would be something of a headache for him in the coming days. Lord White took a deep breath and stood as tall as he could, his own essence twirling around inside him to make his stature larger, straighter- domineering. Powerful.

Once his image was set, Lord White knocked.

One. Two. Three. Four- and the false wall slid open. No casting necessary, just good old fashioned engineering. White stepped out into the grand hall and sighed. Guards were stationed in groups of two, as always. One man, one woman. As always. Everything was fine on his grounds once more. Calm. As ever.

Damned boring.

Boring to White equated to slow, and slow was becoming increasingly unbearable for White. The last few thousand years had been slow. Every plan laid bared fruit, slowly. Every move made monumental changes, over time. A very long time. Elias White shook his head and for the first time in days admitted to himself that he was exhausted. There was nothing left to do now anyways, he had time for a quick break.

Without so much as alerting his personal Serpints to his departure Lord Elias White turned with enough power to whip his heavy cape into a half circle and sped off to his chambers. The Serpints would notice eventually, of course, but White wanted to be alone for as much time as he could, for he was keenly aware of how busy the coming days would be. How chaotic. How bloody.

Besides the point, White’s chamber guards would alert their comrades sooner or later. The two Serpints assigned to him would be punished promptly by their commanding officer, of course, but he’d save face with a quick word or two. A little pay bump or peaceful kitchen detail, any myriad of small favors here and there kept those guards White inconvenienced happy and loyal.

And White was known to cause his Serpints problems quite frequently. Honestly, he couldn’t help himself. Whether it was the power dynamic or just in his nature; White loved to play little tricks on his guards. To make the duties he assigned them just a tad bit more difficult. He believed it kept them on their toes. He couldn’t have his best and brightest getting too comfortable as their comfort would ultimately lead to a lack of perseverance, of motivation to do better than they once believed they could. He felt he was quite fair otherwise, however. For example if his personal Serpints had followed him from the great hall after realizing he’d disappeared, Lord White would not have reported their lack of attention to their commanding officer.

No harm, no foul.

To that end, Lord Elias White could hardly keep the giggling inside his mask from becoming too loud as he approached his chambers. He’d cast around himself until he was certain no one would be able to see him, even if White happened to be standing directly in front of them. Then, he levitated a few inches from the ground and floated towards his massive white-washed wilder-oak door, ensuring there was no sign of his approach. The duo stationed in his room were newer recruits, nowhere near the skill or might of his Serpints, and they had absolutely no idea about Lord Elias White and his asinine antics.

Lord White was ecstatic as he slowly floated to the outside of his chamber doors and stifled a hard laugh.

Retilla Truin and Feznir Huilion.

He reminded himself of the young guards' names, conjuring their visages in the forefront of his mind. Retilla was a tall, slender woman, no older than twenty from some new noble family or another. She was lean with bulging muscles beneath deep mahogany skin. She’d dabbed her cheeks with pink blush during her initiation and White thought it complemented her light hair well. A ferocious, distant descendant of a bastardized family in Trallengard, he’d immediately thought of using her as a spy should she prove competent enough. Feznir, on the other hand, was quite a short, stout young fellow with patchy hair under his chin. He’d scarcely made it to initiation on time and had word a shirt that seemed to have been made entirely of burlap. His family was of absolutely no consequence, but he was sharp. White instantly knew they could do great things together. He had an eye for such things. Always had.

Retilla and Feznir’s first great story- and I’ll be the star!

Elias White was as giddy as a rotund child given access to the bakery after hours. He longed to burst through the door and create a terrifying ruckus, to scare the young guards badly enough that they ran to get help. When they returned, however, they would find their Lord White sleeping soundly in his bed amidst the chaotic mess of papers, pillows, and trinkets abound.

Yes. Yes! Fantastic!

With his antics properly planned Elias’s excitement began to peak and he was sure he’d release a sound akin to a boiling tea kettle if he didn’t move now. Even through that excitement though, caution reared its head before him. An instinct he’d beaten into his own core over an insufferably long lifetime.

Check your surroundings, nimrod. Are you trying to die?

No. No, in fact, he was not. Not quite yet at least.

Willing his own essence into the mask atop his head prompted an entirely new view. A square outlined everything in his sight, currently, that was his chamber door.

Wilderoak: 80 percent composition. Marble: 20 percent composition. Integrity: 100 percent. Object: Door. Danger: None. Essence: None.

The letters flashing on the inside of his mask were all green, indicating that all was safe and well, as it should be. Though still, his body refused to move. Once more he chided himself.

Relying solely on your mask now, are we? You old fool. Look again.

“Essence: None.” An impossible sentiment. Essence was everywhere. Within everyone and everything on Noctra. He’d spent years ensuring that would one day be irrefutable fact. The cost had been greater than Lord White could ever have imagined but in the end he successfully ensured that every living being on Noctra would have access to essence. To power. White wished daily that to do so had not cost so many lives, the lives of friends and contemporaries- the entirety of the Venerable Ta’ who taught him so much of what he knew of magic and life- but time was running short and the Ta’ people hoarded more essence than any other people on Noctra.

Unwittingly, of course, but no less absolutely.

Lord White always did what was necessary for the whole of Noctra. No matter the cost.

The only possible explanation, then, would be that someone or something was concealing their presence. Or attempting to at the least. The lack of essence also meant that Retilla and Feznir were most definitely dead, their essence siphoned, residing now within the body of the mysteriously hidden third party.

Mystery, mystery, mystery for me. What an interesting day indeed!

Elias White released the essence about and underneath him, dropping silently to the marble steps at his feet and casting his invisibility away. He stood facing the closed door before him, to his own chambers, with a building tickling tingle shooting down to the tips of his fingers. Excitement was preying upon his body so viciously that he nearly threw the door open wide and charged in just to appease his inflamed curiosity. But Elias could not, for though Elias he was, he was first and foremost, Lord White. Lord White never took a step forward without some semblance of a plan. It was the only reason he was still alive.

Why do I feel the need to knock? Hah! Curious as ever.

Lord White tapped his double horned, smooth white mask, twice on the right side. With a hiss, crack, and a litany of snapping gears, the back opened and began to seemingly consume the rest. When it had finished the massive Legends mask was nothing more than a small cube in his hand. White wanted to piece this puzzle together himself, no crutches or aides.

Might as well truly leave this one up to chance, yeah?

He smiled wildly, multiple pointed teeth scraping across one another, dwarfing his still human looking molars, despite all being the same size. It had taken him years to learn how to avoid cutting himself on the gums after he filed them all in his youth. Eventually, he settled on using essence to will the teeth to a more appropriate size. It had been even more painful than filing them, though also much more effective. White had been able to watch them morph in a mirror. It took a matter of minutes.

Lord Elias White, Grand councilor took a deep, loud breathe in, held it for four, and exhaled for four. His cheeks suddenly twitched on each side, entirely of their own volition and caused his smile to look much more sincere, though no less vindictive. No less terrifying. Without the mask on he’d been able to catch a subtle scent that he’d come to know well throughout his time on Noctra and that narrowed the possibilities substantially.

“Is that…. Yes… I believe it must be gigan-pine I’ve caught a whiff of!” White giggled and inched the ornate door before him open with hands at either side. The prolonged entrance probably did nothing but build his own excitement, steeping the few moments of mystery in an unnecessary suspense, but White thought it may also serve to help him solve the mystery before his guests exposed themselves.

There weren’t many he knew left alive that would ever have that lovely scent on them. Fewer still would smell like they’d bathed in the massive trees sap for years on end. It was almost too easy at this point.

“Ji-Hu, you treacherous little fiend, is that you?” The door had only just opened enough for White to spot his own bed. To see the figure sitting there. The filled out, muscular, and definitely human sized, figure was but a shadow with the lights in White’s chambers set so low. Lord White snapped and lit the intruder ablaze in nearly perfect white light, tainted ever so gingerly by a gold sheen from his chamber's lovely trim.

For the first time in what had to be decades, centuries even, Elias White dropped his vicious, vindictive, lovely, terrifying smile and stood expressionless. His lively white eyes that glittered with the colors of all knowable essence fell flat, consumed by pitch black pupils which widened to the point that the light of his chamber began to burn. To turn him away from his own personal abode. His sanctuary.

No! No! Look. Look and be pained. Be burned. You will survive. You always survive.

Lord White’s eyes had closed completely, opening slowly, painfully squinting tight like a babe’s under too-bright torch light in the first moments of their life. The glimpse he’d gotten had to be wrong. Had to be a trick of some sort. It wasn’t impossible, though as his eyes opened, his vision cleared and pushed the fuzzy fluff out of his vision and White could not deny the reality before him.

“Hello father.” Mezir smiled, the top half of his face hidden behind a black metal teardrop mask that stank of belligerent defiance.

White’s rage couldn’t push past his shock however, not enough to manifest at the least. His eyes danced across Mezir’s bulking body, his exposed skin bulging with a barely reserved rage, tense like an animal ready to strike.

“You… you were to have left. You are far, far too early, you stupid boy!” Lord White’s heart raced in a symphony of hate-rage-pain-worry-fear. His guts dropped, his teeth barred. His rage was seeping through. The love for his son he’d felt at one point overshadowed by the barrage of feelings bounding about in his heaving chest.

“And that scent, what the hell is that? Where is Ji-Hu? I know that scent. Boy!”

Mezir only laughed as Elias White frantically scanned his son’s massive body, looking for any sign of the small Lumifaen. White snarled and had to catch himself before he lunged. Mezir would be prepared. He would have a plan. A trap. Just as White had taught him.

Four count in, four count hold, four count out. White’s chest slowed. Mezir’s smile only grew. It made him look like a mischievous child at the cheeks, though the thick beard dispelled that illusion quickly.

“It did take me a moment, I admit, to realize why Ji-Hu’s signature looked so familiar. The way their essence moved, swirled, consumed….” Mezir tipped his head forward, “ A pretty impressive feat if I do say so myself, but father, how ever did you make it work? I imagine Ji-Hu’s parents were no larger, so the only logical conclusion I can come upon is if they weren’t big enough for intercourse, you would have to be small enough. Hah! Guess some things aren’t as hereditary as I assumed!” Mezir grabbed his midsection and laughed with a hearty air.

It reminded White of himself as a younger man. A painful string twinged in his heart, though only for a moment. The rage swelled once more.

“You insolent-” White couldn’t find the words, he didn’t want to breathe now- “how dare you-” he couldn’t believe he was so upset at such childish jib, though that was what Mezir was best at, getting under people’s skin, so to speak, “ I… I…”

Lord White fell silent as he looked down to Mezir’s large metal fist, held just past his knee like he was waiting for a friend at the pub. No tension there. Just cold metal.

And limp wings hanging between his closed fingers.