JeVondair Family/Selenia/The Envoy of Nivemus

The Black Swan had actually occupied several addresses over its long a checkered history. In it's oldest days, before the rise of Xavax, it had been little more than a brothel in one of Isadril's slums and ironically named simply The Swan. The entire edifice was later destroyed in a fire from which only the sign had survived, forever blackened by soot and fire, was recovered and reused when the establishment was rebuilt. Over the years, it simply became known by its now infamous moniker.

When Duchess Beck came to own it shortly after Xavax was established, the Black Swan was located in the Merchant Quater catering to middleclass folk before the noblemen of Xavax appropriated it. Xerarch Selenia's appearance there some years ago marked a change in status for the inn, one the Duchess Beck was determined to rise to. She sold the current building and removed the fabled sign, later commissioning a new, larger structure uphill and nearer to the Ducal Castle. The Duchess's staff of realtors and architects worked together to craft something that would stand as a testament to their mistress's deamonor, and to Greater Xavax as a whole. The obtained the deeds to a plot of land in Isadril's High District where well-to-do families lived and shopped above the commoners, but without the patents of nobility that would allow them to live within the castle itself. The area, therefore, was very fine indeed. regularly street laamps bathed the even cobblestone streets in light. Homes and storefronts were faced with brick, sometimes even columned with marble to reflect the wealth and status of their owners. The Duchess's team acquired the deed to one of the larger merchant guildhouses, as well as the warehouse behind it, and set to work. The guildhouse, as with all the buildings in the district, was faced with red brick. It also boasted a large porch where future clientel would be able to sit, drink and eat. A balcony for the second level extended over the porch, and meticulously worked iron railing ringed both the porch and the balcony above, broken only by the fine marble columns that spaced evenly about the facade. The Original Swan tavern sign hung prominently here. Once passed the threshold, the Duchess's artisans had gutted the former guildhouse, replacing the initial interior instead with what one would more traditionally see in a tavern or an inn: Tables that could be easily moved to create a dancefloor littered a common room. To the far left of the Entrance was a stage, to the far right roared a grandfireplace with the swans sigil worked in stone above it. Adjacent to the fireplaces was a wide and well stocked bar next doors leading to a kitchen. On its other side was a staircase leading to the second level and balcony. Most of the furniture were actually artifacts from the previous incarnations of the Black Swan. The Bar had been transported frame for frame, along with the tables, chairs, and other items that gave the place its authentic, rough feel. But there the similarities ended for the Duchess had spared no expense. brass sconces and lanterns, shined to a startling finish, kept the entire common room well lit. Works of iron and other metal decorated the walls. But the greatest addition was found even further within. Opposite the entryway to the Black Swan was a grand door worked in glass and brass. beyond it, the architects had been hard at work creating something far grander.

​What had once been a warehouse had been torn down, replaced by a shining floor of veined, pinkish marble and flanked by fluted columns of the same stone. This Grand Ballroom was cielinged in glass, held in place by a latticework of iron. Great floor-to ceiling windows lined the left wall, revealing the harbor and the sea beyond. The windows could be opened like doors o admit patrons to the balcony beyond. At the farside of the ballroom was a raised dais where VIP's might sit and watch as musicians played from a stage along the right wall. The entire room was ringed by fire braziers meant for open, indoor spaces such as this. While the tavern part of the Black Swan was meant for banquets and the commonfolk who were the usual patrons, this Grand Ballroom was clearly for special occasions.

Even 'minor' occasions like today,

The project was ambitious, particularly in wartime. The foundations lain were several times larger to accommodate the increased clientele, making it the most popular spot in Xavax for those with means. It's facade, though wealthy by any standard, still fit the aesthetic of the district, lulling the viewer into overlooking it. And of course, it was bigger on the inside. Just as Xavax itself seemed unremarkable to foreigners, but amazing once inside.

It was morning and Selenia sat at her favorite spot: The inn's grand stone balcony overlooking the bay, city, and rivermouth below...

Meanwhile

When sunrise came in, Guldor was already awake. The night had been long, his sleep interrupted several times due to the waves of pain coming from different parts of his body. However, none were worse than those from his right hand. Sitting in an armchair in a corner of his room, he silently observed the huge swelling and terrible deformation caused by age and the progression of a very aggressive arthritis that had left him unable to fight with his right hand. With a rather limited command of the left one, it was his curse, his shame and his primary concern, and one of the main reasons why he had been on the verge of commiting seppuku not so long ago. A warrior that could not wage his own wars was one of the most worthless and pathetic entities in existence.

But today was the day. He was going to meet the famous Xerarch Selenia JeVondair, whose success on reigning over the Xavaxian behemoth was well-known all over the East Continent, and quite likely even across the oceans and into the rest of the world. When the sun greeted him at the other side of the thick curtains, he called for Lionel, his elder butler and most trusted servant. The ancient swiftly entered the room and assisted his master in changing his clothes and getting ready for the meeting, and Guldor was very aware of the fact that, as his left hand worsened slowly but surely, his assistance was more precious and essential by the day. He was one of the very few who knew about his lord's ignominy, and had kept the secret ever since.

Just an hour after that, Guldor walked slowly down the corridor leading to the main hall of the Black Swan, where the meeting was going to take place. His plain black silk kimono graciously mirrored his movements, the three kamons in his chest and back a clear sign of the formality of his clothing, only second to the five kamon kimono that he had not used since he had been invested a member of the Way of the Dragon, back in the Far East Island. He knew his oriental style was not a common one to see in the East Continent, but at his 68 years he had long crossed the line of caring about other's opinion about his habits. Standing taller than 6 feet and still quite robust from both family inheritance and continuous training, he was considerably bigger than most men, at least in his native Dwilight and the Far East Island, and his dark brown eyes and chonmage haircut in his now grey hair gave him a solemn appearance not easy to overcome at first sight. His feet, covered by white tabi socks, made surprisingly quiet sounds when his white lacquered wood zori sandals hit the stone floor of the inn. Even an unskilled eye would notice the loose black leather glove covering his right hand, and a few black leather strips provided a firm grip on critical points of the left one. He was not oblivious to the raised eyebrows that those used to cause on his noble peers, but there was no other way to disguise the relentless progress of his illness.

He took a short walk to enjoy the warm summer morning of the south, and upon his return to the Black Swan he was informed that the Xerarch had arrived at the inn and was waiting for him in the upper balcony. With a single nod he acknowledged the information and proceeded to climb the stairs, calmly crossing the entire floor to reach the stone balcony. Just before finally entering it, he took a deep breath, sent a quick prayer to Ora and entered the area, attracting curious glances and amused chuckles at his outfit and hairstyle while searching for Selenia, eager to learn whether those who called her an undead monster were right or delusional.

and then...

The Envoy of Nivemus was due to arrive inside the hour. Breakfast was prepared. It was simple fare, as luxuries were often forgone in Xavax, even for the Crown. War was simply the highest priority, and that was reflected in the hearty table laden with bacon, sausage, pancakes, all manner of prepared eggs, and of course a serving of wine (which the Xavax enjoyed with every meal). She'd arrived beforehand, having chosen to where a very special emerald gown she'd been given decades ago, long before she'd ever dreamed of what she might become, and was waiting comfortably enjoying the view from the balcony when a servant informed her that the envoy had chosen traditional Far Eastern wear and would be arriving soon.

That's when Selenia had turned the Black Swan on its head.

For a number of reasons, both official and personal, this meeting was important to her. She'd wanted everything to be perfect and she'd completely forgotten the reports she'd had about the Envoy's...affectations. She reflected that she'd probably never take a more important breakfast, and so it was that she raced from the balcony to the kitchen, yelling for an apron and ingredients. Know chef in Xavax new how to prepare what she had in mind to make the Envoy feel welcome, and so it was that the kitchen staff could not decide what was more perplexing: The Xerarch herself preparing a dish, or the odd assortment of rice, seafood, and...seaweed? she'd demanded.

Selenia had lived in the Far East for a time, so she had an idea as to how to make sushi. And she'd worked the world-famous docks of Port Raviel enough to have had the fare many a time when a good bonus came through. She figured her way through the process, doing her best to make her efforts at least look right, wrapping the ingredients tightly in seaweed. She had nothing to use for soy sauce, and hoped what she'd done would be enough. Selenia washed her hands of the fish sent and barely made it back to the balcony and set the sushi with the other breakfast foods when Guldor D'Espana was announced onto the balcony.

Selenia smiled and extended her hand in greeting...only to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the floor-to-cieling window-doors behind him.

Her smile froze in place as she realized that her hair was messed after her furious rush...

...and that she was still wearing the stained apron over her fine, emerald dress.

when suddenly

Guldor was not a cheerful man, he never had been. Just after arriving to the Far East Island, his ignorance of the local culture and customs had made him serve a quite infamous Cathayan liege and anger the Kindaran realm in the process, thus leading to his self-imposed exile in Ohnar West for the rest of the decades he had lived there. Mutual defiance and contempt against the major powers of the continent were bread-and-butter to him and his former peers, and that had left a gloomy and resigned patina on his previous fierce and passionate character. His inside warrior was still there, of course, but nowadays it took quite a bit longer to get it out.

He noticed the sushi served with the rest of the breakfast, and was pleasingly surprised by the gesture. It had been years since the last time he had seen anything from his beloved Far East Island served in an official meal. It was then when he saw the Xerarch's messed up hair and, to his great shock and amusement, her stained and coarse apron. The fact that it was placed over the beautiful emerald dress below it forced a subtle smirk to appear on his lips, and he had to try hard not to laugh in front of Selenia. He knew well that would have left him in a very bad position, and he wanted to cause at the very least a decent impression. Concealing the best he could the surprise (but nonetheless ruthlessly betrayed by his widened pupils), he graciously took a step back and reached out for her hand, remembering the western manners and intending to gently grab it for a polite kiss...

...and he froze right in the middle of it, as the surprise had made him forget that he could not grab a damn thing with his right hand. He stiffly stood still for a couple seconds, then lowered his right hand and lifted his left to finally perform the proper greeting. Slightly irritated by his own mistake, he decided that it was best to give both Selenia and him a few moments to get ready and begin anew. Thus, he purposely turned around and started looking outside the balcony, trying not to pay much attention to the very amused glances that they were both receiving at the moment and any noises that may indicate that Selenia was trying to remove the apron.

"The finest sights from the most notable Xerarch's saloon, or so I have heard."

And the awkwardest beginning to this diplomatic rendezvous, he thought to himself as he awaited for the Xerarch to get rid of the damn apron.

Selenia recognized the Guldor's act for the tasteful gesture it was and was silently grateful as she undid the apron to reveal the emerald gown beneath. Part of her was tempted to throw the apron right over the side of the balcony. But instead, she folded it neatly and placed it on a nearby stand in full view. After all, she wasn't embarrassed to be caught preparing a meal, she was simply embarrassed to be caught in general.

Next, she danced her fingers through her hair, rapidly pulling it into a neater single, thick blonde braid that fell over her shoulder and chest. Coughing politely to let her guest know it was ok to turn around, she greeted him with her brightest, slightly flustered smile.

"Earl Guldor, Welcome to Greater Xavax. It is good to finally meet you, and it has been many long years since last I shared a meal with a D'Espana. Please, Sit." She indicated a chair across from hers at the food-laden table. The shuffling of iron chairs on stone mingled with the tinkle from the water fountains and the distant shouts from the harbor far below. "I do not know the customs of Niveums" Selenia said as she poured wine for herself and her guest, "but in Xavax, wine is a very important part of ours. We take it with every meal. To drink wine together is a peaceful act where camaraderie begins, and I personally conduct no diplomacy until after I have done such."

Upon hearing Selenia's soft cough, Guldor turned to look at her once again. This time, approval was quick to fill his grey eyes. He listened to her with a staid look in his face.

"Earl Guldor, Welcome to Greater Xavax. It is good to finally meet you, and it has been many long years since last I shared a meal with a D'Espana. Please, Sit." She indicated a chair across from hers at the food-laden table. The shuffling of iron chairs on stone mingled with the tinkle from the water fountains and the distant shouts from the harbor far below. "I do not know the customs of Nivemus" Selenia said as she poured wine for herself and her guest, "but in Xavax, wine is a very important part of ours. We take it with every meal. To drink wine together is a peaceful act where camaraderie begins, and I personally conduct no diplomacy until after I have done such."

He felt slightly uncomfortable at the thought that a woman was taking the lead, so much time had passed since the last time. It brought back old, distressing memories. However, he knew that, in this occasion, he was the guest and Selenia his host, so he did not complain and sat where she had indicated. He nodded twice to show his agreement at the wine bit. Having spent his entire youth at D'Hara and particularly at the D'Espana's manor, wine had played a very significant role in his earlier days.

"You would likely not believe how many moons have crossed the sky since I shared a meal myself with another D'Espana, let alone a JeVondair. In fact, if memory serves right, I have never had the pleasure. Nivemus is a quiet, simple realm, we do not have many outstanding customs that I am aware of, or maybe I should say that, given the many tribes that our realm is composed of, it would be unfair to endorse one over the others. However, wine can be found at every fine table indeed. It will be my pleasure to try this delicacy you are honoring me with today."

He grabbed his goblet and waited for Selenia to make a toast, agreeably unsurprised that she had served the wine herself. If it was due to lack of finesse or a desire to make the breakfast more intimate was a matter still to be seen.

As the night went on, Guldor would learn that it was definitely due to a lack of finesse. More than that, though, a lack of caring. Tact, it seemed, was not something she concerned herself with. This woman was possessed of a great confidence, and entirely unconcerned about which fork for what dish. Indeed, he noticed that she wore no crown nor sign of office which, though not unheard of, was nevertheless rare for any monarch, much less one rumored to be as powerful as she. He would have to ask about that....

But for now, she met his toast. "The honor is mine, Excellency. And we shall see about you and that family name of yours. I believe blood calls to blood, and that the edifice of a noble house is its own self-fulfilling prophecy. It's part of why I accepted you in your liege's stead. Besides, so very few in my court remember the taste of bloodvine wine, or have ever had it before."

She clinked his goblet and took a long pull, a soldier's pull, from hers. In barely a moment, the cup was drained, and the culprit seemed very pleased with herself as she enjoyed every drop and reached for more. Then started to load her plate. "You know," she said as she deliberated between the bacon and eggs. "They say that too much of a good thing will kill you. But me-" she took both, "I find that if you die without having indulged, you die to deaths for the price of one...the other caused by regret." With her plate heaped full, the Xerarch of the Imperium of Greater Xavax seemed committed to avoiding just that.

Oh, the sweet pleasure of removing the stick up on one's ass. He used to not give a damn thing about other people's opinions too, and had only kept all of his finesse due to the fact that she was a ruler and he was, in some sort of way, Nivemus' ears and mouth in the south at that precise moment. He would have to restrain himself just a little, as he did not want to seem rude while representing his Kronogos after all, but most of his tact started dissapearing the second he realized that Selenia was not that much into it. Oh boy, now he was starting to feel comfortable, and it was not an usual feeling for him as of lately.

Selenia was not a little girl, and he very much appreciated that. Even one young talkative damsel was too many of them. He was not that fond of bloodmoon wine as she was, and much less than his brother Ghaundan for sure, but if there was one thing he was not going to let Selenia learn about him is that he was slightly wary about the bloodmoon infused liquor after his brother had died in such a sad and shameful display. He drank as much as her, even though spreading a little bit more the frequency of his gulps. After he had emptied his goblet, he returned her toast with one of his own.

"And isn't that a shame, knowing both of us the great times of the D'Hara that once was. To the memory of my brother, Lord Ghaundan D'Espana, and his best friend and noble comrade, Lord Rynn JeVondair. To the day they met, and the opportunity they have given us to get to know each other this splendid summer morning. And..." - he took a dramatic pause, not to build tension, but to let her see one of his very rare sincere smiles - "To the continuance of the friendship between D'Espana's and JeVondairs, both between us and our lineages up to the sinking of the last island of this world."

The matter that had brought him to Xavax was a pressing one indeed, but he was just in the middle of one of those odd moments when not even the waves of pain from his crippled hand could defeat his good mood. He decided to enjoy the breakfast, and piles of sushi, bacon, eggs and at least a portion of everything else started to build up on his plate. He had not realized before just how hungry he was, and he had every intention to satiate his bodily needs.

He calmly chatted with the Xerarch for some minutes, though both of them were more focused on filling their roaring stomachs than on the conversation itself. That was why he waited until they started slowing down to ask a question that had been crossing his mind since he had arrived to Greater Xavax.

"I have a question for Your Majesty, as it is something I have been meditating on for a while. You are quite the peculiar ruler, and I mean no offense in that statement. You know that I am Lord Ghaundan's brother, thus Lord Erethorn's son, but I am not sure where to place you on the JeVondair family tree. If you could shed some light on it, I would be very grateful."

"That's a simply enough question to answer, Exellency, although the story is over 30 years old!" Selenia said. Between the pair of them, the breakfast table had been all but destroyed and she was sure her stomach would make her pay for it later.

Oh well, that's life. She smiled contentedly

"The short version is that when I was very young, I married a good man who turned out to be Duke Rynn's estranged brother. I inherited the name upon his death. In fact, I even-" Selenia was interrupted when a servant rushed in. "I thought-" she said, her voice suddenly icey low and dangerous "-that I'd made it clear that we were not to be disturbed?"

"Begging your pardon Your Grace, milord," The young page bowed to her and nodded to Guldor before leaning closer to the Xerarch and whispering in her ear.

And her eyes flew open.

"Bring it in!" She exclaimed. The look in her eyes was dark and fiery. It was a happy expression made ugly, somehow, by hateful emotion that seemed to radiate from her as a pair of armored squires bearing the judicator mark of the Arbiter of Xavax walked in bearing a silver platter upon which sat a crown. A crown, Guldor realized, that bore remarkable similarities to descriptions he'd heard the crown of Alara...

Selenia looked at it for a long while before picking it up for inspection. Once completed, she tossed it in the air and began whirling it lazily around her index finger. "Good." She said at last. "Very Good." She placed the crown back on the platter. "Take that to the royal jewler and have it resized. I want that crown reduced to a pair of anklets for me to wear by this time tomorrow. And be sure to let the Alarans know I'll be wearing their crown on my feet." The Squires bowed and left the Xerarch and her guest once more. "My apologies, Excellency, but good news does not wait. Starfall is no longer the King of Alara, and the Xavax have won a symbolic victory this day. Now then, if I may ask a question of you..."

"Do I appear undead?"

Guldor paid close attention to her tale about her origins, and did not hide his frown of dissaproval when the kid interrupted her. He looked over to the balcony, it was obvious their conversation had nothing to do with him and that the page was trying to keep it private. At Selenia's sudden exclamation, he could not help but look at her again, suspicion written all over his eyes.

So this is her dark side, he thought, his face serious once again. He could read extremely well the hatred burning in the woman. It was the same emotion that had possessed him for almost three decades when even the smallest thing reminded him of the de Vere family, Kindara or Toupellon, as well as any of the fragmented realms that later evolved from it. The kind of hatred that could raise one from the grave with its sheer energy and power, but also alienate the mind to the point where no judgement was left to distinguish right and wrong, good and evil. If those concepts still existed at all, anyway.

"An unbefitting fate for a crown, even if it comes from Alara and Lord Robb Starfall was the last who wore it, don't you think? I am not going to judge you, Great Xerarch. Ora knows well I have been guilty of the same sins, if not even worse ones, and I do not know enough of this southern war to speak with wisdom. However, do let me warn you that unlimited hatred has, and will always have, its consequences. And I am not speaking of the consequences to those that you reign over, you know them well enough. I am speaking..." - he touched his chest, right above his heart - "...of a much more personal and intimate sort of consequences. Be ready for them, whenever they reach you, no matter how high the fiery Phoenix glides on the sky."

He meditated for a few seconds before answering her last question.

"No, you do not. However, I do not know enough of undead and other abominations to assume that my feelings on this issue are right. You could be very well deceiving me, masquerading your inhuman condition. That is why..." - he slightly leaned over the table, looking at her more intensely - "I have brought something with me that will provide conclusive evidence on it, if I must believe our High Priest. That is, if you agree to the... experiment?"

That was when Selenia remembered the reports of her servants and spies, specifically the one of the local guard that had guided Guldor to the Black Swan inn. The man had warned her information network of the two strange chests carried by Guldor's entourage, clearly different from the regular ones containing the Earl's common belongings. One of them was rather large, heavy-looking and gave off an eerie feeling when looked at, the other was much smaller and had strange symbols and pictures covering most of its sides. What was the stranger carrying there, the local guard could not tell, but he knew indeed that, just after he had been caught staring at those chests, a servant had taken a large piece of clothing and covered both chests with it.

"I assure you, Lord Guldor, that my hatred is limited to very specific things. As for that crown..." she gestured sharply with her head as though spitting in disgust "it could hope for no better fate."

Selenia leaned forward. "So tell me, what manner of things are in those odd cases you brought with you? You're rather late for my birthday..."

Guldor made sure to look Selenia right on her eyes as he answered her question.

"Your Majesty will have to grant this humble ambassador a private audience to learn that."

"My Lord, I'm afraid it does not get any more private than this. Besides, if it is some test to ascertain whether my heart beats or not, then I've no need to fear its results will go public then do I?"

Selenia rose and walked to the door, rapt on it, and spoke to the guard outside. Some time later, The chests in question were brought. Once the porters excused themselves, Selenia crossed her arms and waited...

Guldor slowly moved his head from side to side.

"If half I have heard about you is true, I am absolutely sure that you would be delighted at having this made public. What lies inside that chest - he pointed at the larger, eerieish one - is something I will not mind opening in front of the entirety of Greater Xavax once I am sure you still are Xerarch Selenia JeVondair. That one, however - he pointed at the smallest one - is an entirely different story. My request for privacy is, however, not for you, but for me. I am about to break one of my most firm convictions for the very first time just to clean your reputation in Nivemus, First Oligarch and possibly even Eponllyn. You can force me to open it here, of course, you can even kick me out of your realm for refusing if you so wish, but I ask you to take this as a personal request, much to the same way I have accepted your wine custom. Here, in this balcony - he looked outside, visibly uncomfortable - I feel just too exposed to even consider it. My honour is at stake, Your Majesty. Give me just a minute in an enclosed area, make your guards stand at the door if you so wish. My weapons are in my room, and I will only take the small chest with me."

If Selenia knew anything about the northern religion, the Order of the White Tree, she would instantly recognise some of the chest's pictures as belonging to some of its myths. The rest of the pictures and symbols belonged to the Way of the Dragons and the Magna Aenilia Eclessia, Far Eastern religions, beautifully summing up the combined beliefs that Guldor had acquired after experiencing the three faiths for years. And even if she did not recognise a single picture or word, it was quite obvious that the chest was not a magical construction sealing off a great power, just a very personal and intimate belonging of the Earl.

"Just a minute." - said Guldor once again, defiantly looking at the Xerarch.

Of course...Selenia knew next to nothing about the Order or its Tree. And while she'd decided to like Guldor, she knew little about him either, after all, he went at length to make sure she knew he was not like the D'Espana she'd known.

For all she knew, the "personal conviction" he was about to break would be to get her alone in private so that his 'honor' could survive knifing her in the back, thereby proving with her death that she was not, in fact, undead, and thus clearing her name of such allegations. Fat lot of good it would do her. She could just hear her many advisors urging caution...if nothing else, it was unseemly for a woman to be alone with a man she did not know, much less a queen.

Selenia, however, was not so much a woman as she was a storm with skin. Death or shame held no fear on her.

"Very well. I will endure this...interruption-" she said, nodding. "Lead the way and find us a room that will satisfy your requirements." If Guldor showed any signs of relief or excitement, Selenia missed them as she'd turned back to the breakfast table, hand whirling at speed. When she turned back, it was with a new plate with utensils laden with leftovers and a mouth half full of food. "-but I'm taking a plate."

Guldor was less relieved than he was amazed. After having eaten quite the breakfast, a royal one indeed, and after having been asked such a suspicious request, she still kept her temper and, moreover, defied him in return with her calm, so much as to carry food with her.

He could not resist to appreciate her courage. "You are brave." - he said.

He picked up the small ornamental chest, smiled at the surprised guards when passing through them and led Selenia to the first free room he could find. It was particularly empty, maybe it was being cleaned after its guest had departed.

He made a gesture with his right arm towards the inside of the room. "This one is perfect. After you, Xerarch."

Selenia flowed into the room and sat down. Her plate had grown lighter by the moment. Now she stabbed a garlic-sausage with her knife and ate it as it was. Ostensibly, her demeanor had not changed. But Guldor recognized the warning in the gesture nonetheless.

He also noted that the knife was silver. The Xerarch was really beating this point over the head...

Selenia waited, munching contentedly.

Guldor placed his chest on a small table, closed the door, picked up the small table and used it to block the only entrance apart from the window. He made sure the curtains were closed, opened the chest with a small key that he kept tied to his neck and only then did he turn to look at Selenia.

"If you are indeed a human, worry not. For what I have brought with me is lethal only to the undead."

He swiftly pulled a leather scroll case out of the chest, and showed it to Selenia with contempt on his eyes.

"Magic. I swore once I would never have anything to do with it, except maybe for the extermination of its users. My son has been ruthlessly educated on this paradigm, and he would never forgive me if he learned from this. Please, Selenia, choose well those who you notify of this heinous act. Never let this single treason to the principles I hold true ruin my prestige between my own family. My son is everything I have left now."

He kept the scroll case as far as he could from his body, holding it firmly with his left hand.

"If I do this, a holy light should appear and turn all of the undead it touches to dust. You can still pull back, Your Majesty. Ora knows I will not speak about this if you choose to do so."

By now, Selenia had been touched by powerful magics so many times in her life that she could sense trapped energy radiating from the scroll. She imagined she could smell it, and that it held none of the stink of the black magics Stegman Hemmings had used to cause her grievous injury in the past.

She nodded gravely and held out her hand. "If it is such a burden to you, my lord, then by all means, I will cast the spell myself."

Hand outstretched, she waited patiently, expectantly...

At Selenia's proposal, Guldor's face softened. He hesitated for a second, then firmly shaked his head.

"No, I must do this myself. I do not want to lie once I return home, and they would suspect if I told them you were the one casting the spell. To achieve great goals, great sacrifices must be made. I want your name clean, now more than before coming south. You deserve it. All of your realm does. If only had I known the warrior spirit of Greater Xavax before..."

He smiled briefly.

"But I am truly grateful for your offer. I am as ready as I will ever be, Your Majesty." - he struggled to take the scroll out of the leather case using just his left hand, but he succeeded after a few attempts. - "What about you?"

Selenia felt her own face soften in response as she lowered her hand.

"Very well, Guldor. But we will do this my way. Not in some dark backroom, but...in the sunlight."

She rose then, the remnants of her meal forgotten as she strode through the door. Guards snapped to attention, falling in step behind her and servants scurried out of her way. She spoke softly, but her words echoed throughout the Black Swan...

The Inn was to be emptied.

All the servants, all the cooks, all the guards, all the stable folk, all the launders and barkeeps and tenders of every sort, not a soul was to be left behind. In Xavax, the Xerarch's word was law, transgressing it was treason without question. Though her guards were loath to leave her side, even with a 60yo man, but she would have none of it, and in the end they stood outside with the rest, guarding every entrance from everything that went on two legs or more.

All this she did so that Guldor might feel more comfortable. She gave him the run of the place, telling him to meet her on the Balcony once her was confident her word was being followed to the letter. The aging D'Espana did so. When he returned, satisfied, to the balcony, the Xerarch was waiting. Their wine glasses were full and the breakfast table even further diminished. Standing at the masterwork stone railing, Selenia watched the tradeships ply the waters of the Bay of Isadril. Sunlight, warm and golden, bathed her.

Before knowing from her, she was only another name. When they first exchanged letters, she was just another woman. As more letters were exchanged, he started seeing her as a mix between a potential ally, an inconvenient reminder of his dead brother and an unstable lady that somehow had captivated the minds and hearts of the entirety of Greater Xavax. Upon meeting her personally, he began to see the traces of the Phoenix, and some of the simple yet powerful charm that seemed to came out of every single pore of her skin.

Now, all he could see was a Queen. A full-fledged, unalloyed royal spirit. A Monarch in every aspect of the word. And there was just a single thing that a true warrior as Guldor had always been could do in front of a Monarch: to show deference and respect.

When he arrived to the balcony, seeing the golden sun of the south playing his tricks around Selenia, he softly called for her. "Great Xerarch", was everything he said.

And then, when Selenia turned to look at him, he took a step back and performed a courteous and deep reverence, just slightly less pronounced than those he used to do in front of his old Shogun, Lord Ingall Altenahr. It had an obvious ritual and therapeutic effect on him, as if he had become ten years younger just by acknowledging his respect. She was not her ruler, but was a ruler nonetheless, and his eternal mistrust of female rulers had made him to underestimate her royalty. Never again, that for sure.

"There are commoners that, even though they are commoners, are superior to the common rabble. I am speaking of captains, bureocrats, officers, adventurers: all of them contribute to keep the crowds on their place. Much to the same way, and on an entirely different league, there are us noblemen, who rule and command the destinies of the commoners. And amongst us, there are those superior to the regular nobility, those called to superior purposes than merely ordering the world. It had been three decades since the last time I saw one of those noblemen. And now, unexpected to me, here you are."

He held the scroll tightly in his left hand, and with a vigorous shake extended it while still looking at her.

"I can guarantee you that, should this scroll confirm my worst suspicions and turn you to dust, I am going to mourn your absence as sincerily as this brave realm of yours. Do not dare to spoil your legend, Selenia JeVondair".

And then, without further hesitation, he started to vigorously pronounce the words of the spell, rhythm and melody catastrophically mechanical and artificial, but with the strongest willpower pumping through his veins. The last word was more sputted that entonated, and he opened his arms with a deep breath and waited for the unfathomable.

A few seconds passed, nothing happened. Then, in a rather anticlimactic but completely expectable turn of events, the scroll fizzled harmlessly and disintegrated slowly.

Guldor looked at Selenia, shock and dissapointment written all over his face. Suddenly possessed by the surreal scene and the absurdity of it all, he could not help but start to laugh, loudly and unstoppably.

(OOC: I had a real scroll of holy light and casted it to accompany the RP. Turns out we're not gonna have solid proof for a damn thing XD)

The spell had failed, but Selenia could feel the power of the scroll dispersing toward her, fainting as it did. She waited until she was certain it had indeed failed, which seemed confirmed by the Niviman's sudden, relieved laughter.

"That tickled." she said, smiling.

Success

"I am sure it did. But it has also confirmed the best of my expectations. It is not a curse that has raised you as an undead monster, but a miracle that has given you a second chance to meet your signaled fate. I know not what is there left for you to perform, but it is obvious that the Aenil still have plans for you."

He approached the large chest, left in the balcony since Selenia's guards had brought it. Tapping it twice with his left hand, he smiled to her.

"Call in all those that you have expelled if you so wish, Great Xerarch. It would be a royal pleasure to hand you these gifts of friendship in front of anyone and everyone. My shame is no more, as Ora has prevented me from casting the spell. My honour is still clean."

"Indeed it is, Earl Guldor. Not that it would ever have been in question."

Some time later...

With the Xerarch's permission, the regular staff and attendants returned to their work in the Black Swan as the Inn was again opened to the public, including the knights and lords who were rotating through the city. Selenia remained on her balcony. The sun had passed ti zenith, so she'd ordered lunch for herself and her guest, looking with great interest upon the hidden gift he had brought, but too polite to pry. They chatted while waiting for the food.

"It seems your Krognos is worried about you, Guldor." Selenia said as she read the morning mail which had been delivered to her when she'd reopened the Swan. "He wonders if you have arrived safely. Perhaps the subtext is he worries if I have eaten you or not?"

"Believe it or not, Great Xerarch, there was a real concern and heated discussions between fellow Ora's faithful in Nivemus and First Oligarch about your current condition. The proof is my presence in the Black Swan this very same afternoon, after all. Some thought you were undoubtedly an undead witch, whereas some of us were a little more skeptical about that. Anyway, I have written twice since my arrival to my Kronogos, though I could not give an educated guess and thus commented nothing on your condition. Once this delightful day is over, I will make sure to send him my conclussions and evidence."

He noticed her interest on the chest, and he thought that, since they were both waiting for lunch and not particularly fond of finesse, he could as well make use of that time to hand her the gifts he had brought with him. He stood up, requesting a few servants to move the chest right next to the table, which they did after a dubious glance to their Xerarch.

"I have brought two mighty weapons, taken right from the hands of the Perdanese. They are intended to honor both Nivemus and Greater Xavax's incipient relationship and the one between you and me, covering both the institutional and personal level. I must confess that, after hearing your orders about the Alaran crown, I know of no better recipient than you for these items, taken from our enemies."

He opened the lock and looked at her, teasingly raising his left eyebrow.

"Does Your Majesty consider it appropriate to hand them while we wait, hmmmm?"

Selenia leaned forward, and intrigued look on her face as she nodded slowly for him to proceed.

The Gifts of Nivemus

Having received her confirmation, he opened the chest and struggled for a few seconds to take out a polished silvery-looking shield, placing it in the table with a quick swing of his left hand. Selenia could see the a roaring lion's contour, seemingly forged after the shield itself.

"This is the Legendary Shield of Righteousness, last held by..." - he made a shadowy grin - "Lord William de Braose himself. Nivemus offers it to Greater Xavax, in the hope of a peaceful and prosper relationship. Between you and me, Great Xerarch, I think a phoenix would look better on it, especially if used against the Perdanese."

He let Selenia judge the quality of the item while he took a large, ominous looking iron hammer. Handing it to her, he explained.

"And this is the Iron Hammer of Good and Evil, last owned by an unknown wealthy Perdanese noblewoman. It is said that it would be most useful in the hands of a skilled trader or banker, but I will let you decide that for yourself. This is my personal gift to you, Selenia. You will need to apply both good and evil if you are to succeed against your enemies, you know that well enough."

Sitting once again in his chair, he let the woman look at her pleasure to both items. They were hers, so there was no need to rush.

Selenia accepted the pieces gratefully, with the reverence of a practiced warrior. She handled each in turn, appraising them with practiced ease, deftly testing their weight and balance. She chatted as she did so, marveling gleefully at the craftsmanship. She equipped them both, concentrating on how her muscled now had to move differently than they did with the Scythe of Dwilight...the relic she'd lost when she'd fallen. She stopped when she caught a reflection of herself in the windows behind Guldor. There she was with a shield on one arm and a warhammer in the other...in her emerald-green court-dress. She looked ridiculous.

She also looked extremely pleased.

"I accept the gifts of Nivemus, Earl Guldor, and I intend to use them to great effect..." That dark, hungry look crossed her features yet again as thoughts of her next encounter with Perdan.

Yes, she was very pleased indeed.

"I hope so. Since it seems we will not be going to war against Perdan anytime soon, it looks like they will suit you best. Even though they would probably pair better with an armour than your beautiful dress, Great Xerarch."

He nodded twice, pleased by the way she handled the items. She was no novice in the art of war, that was clear enough. If she could use those items to damage Perdan and Vix Tiramora and strenghten Greater Xavax's position... Well, that was everything he could ask for.

"And now, where is that promised lunch?"