Completely circular, with a dark stone floor, the room held ninety of Garren's officers awaiting his arrival. Without any natural light, it was pitch-black save the faint glow of the sconces that lined the outer walls.
As soon as Garren entered, the Ereubinians knelt down before him, the sound of their swords brushing the floor mingled with the soft scuffling of his guards' boots falling into alignment at the threshold.
"You may rise," Garren said. "The Laionai have commanded that a new regime shall be brought forth against Adoria. An army strengthened by the hands of men. You shall depart to each of the provinces of Middengard and gather the strongest among the vessels. Train them in our methods – equip them with our weapons. You have been given less than one year's time to complete this preparation."
"My liege, has it been decided which of the provinces we are each to attend to?" Jules asked. He was one of a handful of seasoned officers, well set in his ways. His overzealousness to please often annoyed Garren, but today it seemed slightly more palatable.
"I have drawn up scrolls for each of you, sending you to a province according to your ability. Each of the regions has its own natural strengths and I have decided accordingly."
"And what of you my Lord? Will you be in charge of a region as well?" Aiden asked. Garren could barely see him from the back of the assembly, his face shaded by darkness.
Surely he won't question my authority here, now.
"As High Lord, I fail to see where my dealings are of any concern to you." He gritted his teeth, his blood boiling just below the surface at the boldness of the question and the mere suggestion that he needed to answer it. He desperately wanted Aiden to shut his mouth, but this streak in him made Garren wonder where his friend's loyalties were. There was one sure way to find out.
"As for your assignment, it is to be in the southernmost region. I expect all of you to ride out at dawn."
Aiden stepped out of the shadows. "The southern region is almost desolate. Only Ruiari remains intact, I would be of better use elsewhere."
A chill fell across Garren's features. "You seem to have lost your wits today, Aiden. Go back to bed and pray to the Goddess you awake with better sense."
Aiden seemed to consider this, but his body grew rigid and he took an aggressive step forward, his hand balled into a fist, evidence that he'd decided against his better judgment.
Garren closed his eyes, willing Aiden to fall back before it was too late. "Rese fixous necromai." He lifted his hand, gesturing toward Aiden, pausing just long enough to give him one last chance to back away.
"Eritrev chorak."
The final word of the reprimand crossed, as a whisper, over Garren's lips. He opened his eyes and though his expression displayed nothing but righteous anger, his heart ached for what he had done.
The others froze as they watched Aiden fall to the ground, his body twisting unnaturally, sending his arms and legs into strange contortions. Mangled words came indecipherably from his lips as he writhed in pain.
Garren stood over Aiden in silence for a moment before speaking to him. "It's your speech that leads you into such dissonance, so you shall be without it."
All were silent as they watched Aiden continue to seize, unable to open his eyes or speak. Blood began to drip from the corner of his mouth, trailing down his chin to form into a puddle on the dusty floor. Aiden reached up and clasped a hand around his throat, coughing and gagging. A sickening cry erupted as he tried to speak and found himself without a tongue.
The others had backed away far enough to kneel and still appear under Garren's command, but their eyes were trained on Aiden. Tadraem, clothed in the elaborate robes of the High Priest, was the only man present who kept his proximity and likewise his ability to hear the High Lord's hushed words.
Garren leaned down, whispering into Aiden's ear. "I consider it a measure beyond grace that you're still breathing, despite your inability to take seriously the corrections I generously offered you. Don't disappoint me again, or this will seem but a pleasant dream."
Rising, he motioned for Tadraem to see to Aiden.
"I will get him cleaned up, my Lord. I have left the scrolls in each of the officer's chambers," Tadraem said, lifting Aiden. With staggered steps, they made their way to the guards, who escorted them into the hall.
"Do not mistake me. Compared to the Moriors, my kindness is more than unmerited." Garren paced in front of them as he spoke. Not a single one dared utter a word in response. "Do you think my judgment unfair?"
Jules stepped forward, and knelt. "Your commission by the Laionai is without question, my Lord. Your command through the Dark Goddess is unquestionable; therefore your judgment is as well. Blessed am I to be among your favored."
Garren would have rolled his eyes, or even chastised Jules for taking patent advantage of the situation, but even the ingratiating proclamation was a respite from the actions Garren had just found unavoidable.
"Your allegiance has earned you Aiden's position," he said soberly. "The Southern region would be my support, training with my forces in Eidolon. Considering Tadraem has retired from his command, a commission is in order. That commission was to be Aiden's, but now you shall step up in his stead."
Jules kept his head bowed, smiling as Garren revealed his decision.
"I am honored my Lord. You will not regret my appointment."
"For your sake, let us hope that I don't."
Garren's head pounded, partly from tension, partly from lack of sleep. "I release all of you for now. Go, read over your decrees – Nech ordai neroman."
Voices joined in a reverent echo as they left him.
Aiden had never so much as whispered a word of defiance before. Garren felt a twinge of remorse as he realized that he'd never hear his friend speak again, but his words weren't worth hearing if they were going to invite insolence against him.
Suddenly unable to contain his frustration, he grabbed a chair and smashed it against the wall.
"Are you ready, my Lord?" Tadraem asked, as he returned to the room. "Aiden has been taken care of."
"I had no other choice." Garren had never before felt the urge to justify his actions to anyone, let alone Tadraem.
"My Lord, I have been expecting this for some time. Jules is a much wiser choice for my former standing. He is more reserved in his opinions and though he's a bit pompous, he's reliable." He walked over to Garren and glanced at the floor. "Did the chair say something offensive as well?" he mused.
"No, I'm redecorating." Garren gave him a half grin.
"With one less voice to cause disunity among the forces, you'll feel at ease before long. You sensed this as well. You haven't been yourself since our return." Tadraem began walking with Garren toward the door. "I chose to avoid the topic with you, but it seems now that you were simply being cautionary. I owe you an apology."
Garren considered telling Tadraem about the girl and his visions of her, but something kept him from speaking the words.
"Is there something on your mind, my Lord?"
"What would my father have done?"
Tadraem took a moment before answering. "He would have made the same choice, had he the ability."
As they made their way through the courtyard, Garren thought of his father, Seth. He'd never known his mother. She died early in his childhood, though it wouldn't have made much difference had she lived. She was human and would not have been allowed to spend much time with him. He recalled very little of either of his parents, his father having lost his life in battle with the Adorians around the same time as his mother's death. Tadraem, Seth's friend and commander, took Garren as his charge. He'd practically raised him.
"If it suits you, my Lord, I will sit with the two of you. The Goddess shines her favor upon you with this union, and I would not dream to offend her holiness or your wishes by my choice. I trust this meeting will address any changes that may be necessary." Tadraem paused before the threshold.
"How long has it been since she lost her soul?"
"She was taken from Ruiari." Tadraem opened the door to the outer courts, and without further conversation, they made their way to the temple. Once inside the sanctuary, they passed the altar and the pulpit, walked through a high-framed doorway and entered a small room beyond. There, the girl sat at a crudely carved table, her hands neatly folded in her lap.
"Her name is Cadence." Tadraem pulled a chair out for Garren to sit across from her.
"I am privileged to be here, my Lord," she said. Her voice was hollow, devoid of emotion or sentiment – the words were nothing more than meaningless sounds to her.
He'd not only expected this tone, he'd heard it thousands of times before, making it so much more than ordinary. But somehow, beholding it in such a private setting disturbed him. He kept a still countenance as his mind wandered. He'd asked her a few menial questions, mainly concerning various family traits and illnesses, when he lost control of his thoughts.
"What would you say if I were to threaten your life?" His body raced with adrenaline as he realized what he was in the midst of doing. The girl looked at him blankly, her eyes as clear and motionless as still water.
Garren reached for his dagger and rushed over the table, bringing its blade to her neck. "Tell me, do you value your life at all?"
The girl didn't so much as quicken her breathing as she considered his question. "I value what I may be to you, my Lord. Do with me as you will."
Tadraem's hand sank deeply into Garren's shoulder blade as he pulled him back down into his seat. "Are you looking to dishonor yourself?"
He couldn't recall the last time Tadraem had braved such a tone. Speechless, Garren stared through the woman before him, seeing a vision of another.
"Undress yourself and stand before him," Tadraem commanded.
Cadence stood and stepped out to face them. Without reluctance, she reached behind her neck and opened the clasp to her dress, letting it drop unabashedly at her ankles. She stood blushless before them, looking straight ahead. Her coal black hair fell about her shoulders, her blue eyes set against a complexion as smooth and pale as Orbus root.
"Does she suit your needs?"
Garren still had trouble finding words. The girl was beautiful, and on any other day he would have been more than pleased that such a breeder would be his possession. He'd waited for this honor for some time. But as he looked into her eyes, he was reminded of another's, a far more piercing blue, fierce in tenacity and insistence.
"She'll do." Garren rose from his chair and had started to leave the room when he turned back around to address Tadraem. "I have some other matters to contend with before the day is out. Forgive me, I'm still feeling a bit fatigued from the journey."
Tadraem nodded, "Then you are pleased with her." Then added almost as an afterthought, "My Lord?"
"Much so," Garren lied. "I will convey my appreciation to the Laionai when I go before them tomorrow to discuss our progress with the preparations. I'll be out attending to something this evening, so don't expect me at observance."
Garren made it a point to leave the room before Tadraem had the opportunity to inquire as to what it was he would be attending to.