Acacia Chronicle

Inside a carriage, on the way to the western frontier and the wilderness beyond…

Horse-drawn and spacious enough to fit four people upon its velvet seats, it had been arranged by the Eye of Elicia, Nhaka Mezalune. It had a simple design that allowed it to blend in inconspicuously with the rest of the armed convoy bound west with supplies and goods for Fort Sina, the last bastion of civilisation and Lightsworn presence within the Ecclesiarch’s dominion.

Seated opposite each other upon those soft and smooth seats, Elena de L’Enfer and Iris de Escaflora had a glamour upon them both. Courtesy of the Eye’s eldritch magics, it cloaked them in guises that left their true selves undiscernible to the naked eye and the untrained mind as they travelled alongside their fellow humans and elves who were none the wiser.

“Exactly! It’s called making a statement,” Elena stated, snapping her fingers as she beamed at Iris, who continued staring absentmindedly out the curtained window at the moving scenery of white snow and bleakened yet sunlit skies. “Before his little band of killers, we’ll expose that craven for the phony he is, and…”

She stopped herself mid-sentence. The Ecclesiarch was, strangely enough, more distant than usual, her eyes and her mind lost in reverie. And it made her, in a way, colder and more aloof than usual. At least, if that was even possible for someone like her.

“Iris?”

At the mentioning of her name, Iris turned away from the window and towards Elena. She remained silent, her golden-eyed gaze forlorn as she looked at her friend.

“Could you repeat what you were saying?” Iris asked after a while. “My apologies, Lady de L’Enfer. I fear that it might have slipped past my attention.”

“No worries,” Elena replied with a smile, crossing her arms as she leaned back upon where she sat. “Anyway, we’ll meet with my Lady's contact, and…”

When Iris remained silent and looked once away once more, Elena stopped talking. Without a word, she leaned forward and placed her hands upon the drab colours of her friend’s glamour, shaking her by her shoulders as gently as she could. And only then, did her friend’s gaze return from the bleak scenery and back to her.

“You alright there?” Elena asked as she looked into the golden eyes of her friend’s forlorn demeanour. “A gold coin for your thoughts, maybe?”

“This man, this… ‘Orcus’,” Iris stated as she averted Elena’s gaze. “Forgive me, Lady de L’Enfer. I was not entirely honest with you back at the Ancient Cathedral. It was most improper of me.”

As Elena returned to leaning back upon her seat, she raised a brow at Iris.

“Huh?”

“You read the notes prepared by Lady Mezalune. I trust that you have, as is your due diligence. She thinks he is a mere warlord, another lesser craven living beyond Elicia's Law. But I know better. This… ‘Orcus’, he was…”

“Hold up,” Elena said as she stuck out her hands. “Is this something that my mistress doesn’t know? I don’t mean to be rude, but…”

She then pulled off the glove covering her left hand, revealing to Iris the Beholder’s Mark etched just beneath her knuckles. Carved most strikingly in the shape of her mistress’s eldritch eye, it had remained upon the coldness of her undead flesh despite the glamour.

“Y’know how it is, Iris. I’m bound by our pact to tell her all that I know.”

“Perhaps?” Iris remarked coldly, her golden eyes upon the Beholder’s Mark. “And perhaps that is why she has deigned to allow my accompanying of your person in this errand. Your Lady knows a great many things as the Eye of my mistress.”

When Elena said nothing to that, Iris spoke once more, her lilting voice breaking the silence that had formed between them.

“But so be it. There should be no secrets between us. Being silent has left me… uncomfortable.”

With a nod, Elena slipped her exposed left hand back within its glove and grinned at Iris.

“Well, do go on.”

“The man who calls himself Orcus was once a Vizier in service of my predecessor,” Iris said, her tone grim amidst the naturality of its lilting beauty. “I knew him once, twelve years ago. Back then, he was the Vizier of Fort Sina, and he was known as Ser Solus de Sina.”

“Huh, okay,” Elena remarked as she crossed her arms. “Never heard of ‘em, though. Let me guess… the Central Church struck his name off the records.”

Iris nodded. And to that, Elena frowned and furrowed her brow as her elvish ears twitched ever so slightly.

“But why’s that?”

“To the northwest, there was an elven village between Fort Rose and Fort Sina by the name of Lyse,” Iris answered, her words cold yet forlorn. “Without permission, Ser Solus travelled there and slaughtered its inhabitants, citing the presence of unsanctioned occultists that had converted the elves living there into a cult that sought to summon a Malphas. He was right, by the way.”

“Wait, what?” Elena exclaimed in reply, her tone grim yet surprised as her brows remained knit. “Then why’d he lose his job?”

“Because of what I saw when I was sent to investigate on behalf of Lady Lyra when Ser Kyrak, the Vizier of Fort Rose, had detained him,” Iris said, her gaze looking into Elena's crimson eyes as she spoke. “There was only one survivor, an elven girl little older than I who bore gruesome eldritch imagery upon the flesh beneath her robes. And she was crying, and she could not see with all the tears in her eyes. But she led me and mine to what remained of Lyse.”

And it was with this, that Iris’s golden-eyed gaze went towards the floor. 

“It was there that I realised why Ser Kyrak had drawn his blade against his fellow Vizier. The Reservation had been burnt to the ground. And in two bloody piles were the heads and bodies of all of the elven residents. Villagers and cultists alike, strewn all over a ditch that burned with tiny embers in the morning light. Not even the scavengers wanted any part of it.”

“And he didn’t do us all a favour there and simply die at Fort Rose, huh?” Elena remarked, grimacing heavily. “Bastard.”

“Yes, he lived. And it was because of me, Lady de L’Enfer. When Lady Lyra let me decide his fate, I let him leave Ser Kyrak’s prison as an excommunicated servant, stripped of all his blessings and titles,” Iris said in reply. “And I did it because I loved him. Loved him too much to see the darkness in his heart. That he hated the elves more than he could ever love me.”

Elena frowned and crossed her arms. She looked at Iris, who returned her gaze in forlorn silence. In truth, it was the first time she had sensed and felt such sorrow from her friend. And it was with this, that she leaned forward once more, turning her frown into a smile as she placed her hands upon her friend’s shoulders. Squeezing them, as tightly as she could.

“I… was weak, Lady de L’Enfer,” Iris said as she closed shut her golden eyes. “Orcus, the man who was once Ser Solus, he is my disgrace and my failure, a lapse of judgement from a time when I wielded power not to stand in the place of those who could not. I... failed us all.”

“Hey, it's alright,” Elena said in reply. “I’m happy to help and even happier that you’re here with me, the past be damned.”

When Iris heard this, she took Elena’s hands off her shoulders. She looked at her friend as though she had gone insane.

“Are you… sure? After what you have heard, you are willing to accept me, and all that I have purported myself to be? In the image of my mistress… unerring and all-powerful…”

Elena nodded, smiling as she shrugged her shoulders.

“Yeah, why not? I mean, I’m no saint either, y’know? Really, I’d be a hypocrite if I told you off! Besides, we all make stupid mistakes here and there when we’re young and silly, don’t we? I think what matters is that we do all that we can to make amends, no? And like I said, Iris. I’m happy to help a friend in need. Always.”

It was with this, that Iris opened her golden eyes. Without warning, she took Elena by surprise when she placed the coldness of her friend’s hands into the warmth of hers, closing shut her eyes once more as what appeared like the faintest of smiles formed upon her beautiful lips.

“Thank you, Lady de L’Enfer. Truly, to hear such words from you, I am blessed.”

“Hey, don’t sweat it. Anything for a friend,” Elena said as the warmth of Iris’s hands enveloped the coldness of hers. “But damn, though. I seriously didn’t expect…”

“That I had such… emotion within me?” Iris asked wryly. “Similarly, I did not expect an unholy perversion of life to be so… endearing.”

“Why, that’s the nicest thing anyone from the Central Church has ever said to me!" Elena said with a mischievous grin. "I’ll take it as a compliment, thank you very much.”