Long black nails tapped clicked against the pristine wood of the throne"s armrest. Deep emerald eyes swam with repressed rage; its serpent pupils daggers. Before Akyryss, was the Theocracy"s Amba.s.sador to Haven. He was a young n.o.ble, handsome and well-bred - for a human. His short crop blonde hair was oiled back, revealing a slightly tanned face. Blue sapphire eyes stared back at the dragon in human form. A welcoming smile was posted on his face.And all of it was a facade.
The old dragon could smell it. The fear. The arousal. The anxiety. He was a young human at the age of twenty-four. Dressed in the fashion of the theocracy, modeled after a European fashion, or so her big brother had told her. She wished that old Wolf was here now. Because she was close to tearing this human"s head from his neck. She grappled with the urge - pushing it down. Killing this pest was more trouble than she wished to afford to him.
"The G-Great Alistair also apologizes for the destruction of the statues on the coast." The Amba.s.sador said.
His voice shook as he read off the words on the parchment. If she voiced her actual thoughts, it"d mostly mean war. A war she so desperately wanted to wage. One she could not afford anymore. Her mistress was back, and Haven had been created to welcome her. To be her new home since Fable"s End was left in ruins... That was the purpose Haven served. The Amba.s.sador knew it. Alistair knew it.
That was why he did this. Never had so many statues been destroyed within two days. This meant Alistair was trying for complete dominion over his lands. A being risen by faith into G.o.dhood, that was heresy in of itself. The presence of the Creator"s idols, faith-based G.o.ds would lose power. Having those litter his domain acted as a floodgate. Now that they were gone, he held complete control; at least, more control than when they were there.
A fickle thing of faith was that, no matter how many you purged, there was always another. With the Theocracy"s Inquisition in full swing hunting down non-believers, they"d at least stop pestering her island. She had enough with hanging them from the guard towers.
"Tell Alistair, that if he wishes to remain untouched." Akyryss paused to regain control over her emotions. Smoke billowed from her mouth. "That if one more statue is defiled... Even if it meant the destruction of this Island, I will personally pay him a visit."
With that, the Amba.s.sador was allowed to retire from the audience chamber; after some gentle persuasion of a broken armrest. The young man scrambled away when the armrest was ripped from the chair. When it exploded against the wall as he exited the chamber, it had put a skip in his step. And a squeak in his voice. A minor victory.
"Four statues..." Akyryss"s sweet voice shook with rage and despair. "Four irreplaceable statues... O, how long it took us to place them all..."
"A true blow to our world"s history." Sicuro Tantillo, the High Priest and Akyryss"s Governor of Haven, said as he appeared a moment later.
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Akyryss glared at him, and he cleared his throat.
"I mean, a devastating loss to the citizens of this world," High Priest Sicuro said before adding. "I"ve spoken with the Amba.s.sador, and the remains of the statues will be delivered to the island by the end of the year.
"If they haven"t thrown them into the sea already," Akyryss snarled, revealing pearly perfect teeth. "The statues weren"t created to withstand abuse. They"re normal stone, just enchanted."
"My Great Dragon, they"re made with Elven Stone," High Priest Sicuro reminded her. "They"re no mere stone. They"re quite valuable and, frankly, take quite the beating. I"m sure it took them quite a bit of magic and force just to break the enchantments."
Yes, Akyryss agreed. She hadn"t remembered that in her anger. She took a mental step back and thought about it. The statues themselves would"ve taken at least half of her strength to break. In those standards, it was around two times as strong as normal stone. This placed it around the rank in strength. It was hard to gauge it all into a measurable system.
What wasn"t hard tell, was that this had been ordered from high within the country. Alistar was the only one in there that had the power, and the inclination, to waste resources on such a thing. Especially when he had to contend with Death Valley to his north.
"Shall I call off the warships?" Sicuro asked, breaking Akyryss from her thoughts.
"Ah, yes." Akyryss sighed. "No point in having them wait any longer. But do keep them on alert. I feel that things are going to change soon. For once, I cannot place my claw on it. I just feel it."
Her green eyes looked down on the priest, his white robe emblazoned with a golden dragon and an orange rose. The sigil of Haven. She stared at her sigil for a moment longer than turned to the priest, a new thought came to mind.
"Any word on locating my master?" Akyryss asked.
"The report stated that the agents had arrived in Fable"s end," High Priest Sicuro said. "They said the summit was full of dead fish. The pond and the house were empty."
"She"s out in the world..." Akyryss sighed.
"It seems that way." Sicuro agreed. "But I highly advise against trying to find her. It seems that Alistair is not taking you seriously anymore. That was your fifth threat."
"I know, I know," Akyryss said as she pushed herself off the throne and strode forward.
"You will have to act upon this one," Sicuro said.
"Yes, I"m very much aware of this." Akyryss agreed. "However, I will speak with Lord hades first."
"My Great Dragon, I highly object to the notion of bringing the Evil G.o.d Hades into this dispute." Sicuro grimaced. "I do not see how he fits into this."
"You don"t?" The dragon stopped on his left, staring at the open doors.
"No," Sicuro said.
"I never told you?" The dragon now turned to him with a look of mischief in her eyes.
It was an odd shimmer in her eyes, one that he knew would often lead to headaches. She was regal, demanding, and tyrannical. But when she got that look, it was almost childish - unlike a dragon. Sicuro didn"t think this was just her. This must have been an inherited trait. Like a child who carried a few habits from their parents. The first time it happened, he was dangling upside down. From the top of the clock tower. Midday. For an hour.
"Cyril, my Mistress, and Creator of the World..." She paused dramatically before she leaned in close to his ear. "... Is his daughter."