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This story is licensed under the Creative Commons

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© 2008 by Noisy Bob All Rights Reserved

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_ SPECIAL NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: For reasons that shall soon become obvious, I have kept this on hold until CB.17 was released. This, like "Silks Tale", is a piece of character-expansion and is not set within the timeframe of the main story, taking part about 3000 years before the events of Cold Blood. Thanks to Onyx Tao for creating the world and helping me out with the timeline-issues._

The mansion corridor echoed with sharp hoofbeats against the mosaic tiles, leaving the furious state of mind of their maker clear to all who heard them. Slaves shied away and ducked into alcoves at his passing, only the staccato patter of one pair of sandals mingled with the stomping beat.

Mallear threw open a pair of latticed doors at the end of the corridor and strode in imperiously, First carefully closed them behind him so as not to risk them falling off their hinges. In the center of the room his older brother, Abraxus, was reclining on a lounger with one hand holding a goblet of wine and the other resting on the buttock of one of the servants, a pretty, slimly-built human male in a half-undone navy tunic, both of them looked round in suprise when Mallear stormed in.

"Ah, little brother, how nice to see you. So, old Plentis let you out from under his thumb for a while, eh?" said Abraxus, slurring slightly and gesturing to Mallear with his goblet.

"You, get out." said Mallear, pointing at the servant and fixing him with a withering glare. The boy looked back and forth between Mallear and Abraxus in indecision for a moment before Abraxus took pity and shooed him away with a sigh, scurrying past Mallear with his head down and a stream of nervous, half-formed apologies.

"Still have a pikestaff deeply inserted in your backside, I see." grumbled Abraxus, taking a long swig of wine.

"And you are still drunk before noon and molesting the servants, I see." replied Mallear "Meanwhile you should be training at the war college, so what are you doing here instead, Abraxus?"

Abraxus groaned and rolled over on the lounger so that his back was turned to his brother "What's the point? I already use Tempus at a master level and father has been teaching us tactics and command since we were old enough to walk, there's not a single test I can't pass with ease, it's so dull."

"It is specifically because you are so skilled that you should be there, if you don't perform well at the college then you will scupper your chances to make warlord, you ignorant layabout!" roared Mallear.

"Bah, you worry too much." said Abraxus, waving dismissively over his shoulder.

"Someone has to, with the tensions with Clan Scylla growing the way they are the Clan is going to need as many capable warlords as it can get, we could be looking at a clan war." replied Mallear, deflating somewhat and taking a seat on an ornate wooden chair beside the lounger "By all the founders, it is a tragedy to watch you let your potential go to waste, you should be leading the clans armies, it would be an utter waste for you to be relegated to the rank-and-file, not to mention a shame on our line."

Abraxus huffed and rolled over to face Mallear "Your concern is noted." he took a deep breath and rested his head on one hand "Fine, if it does anything to loosen that pikestaff then I shall return tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that, and the day after that, and...oh hell, Mallear, my horns will fall out from sheer boredom!"

Mallears face began to soften as his bother spoke until eventually it twisted into a grin, it was so hard to stay angry at him for long, workshy oaf that he was "Then maybe it will relieve some of the pressure on your brain!" he said with a snort of laughter.

"Aye, maybe it will at that. Will you take a drink, or is it still too early for your delicate constitution?" said Abraxus, sarcastically.

"I...oh, fine." said Mallear, relenting "First, a little wine, white."

"Yes, Master." said First with a bow and poured out a measure of wine from Abraxus's drinks cabinet into a goblet, beads of condensation had already formed on the polished-bronze surface when he presented it to Mallear as the goblets enchantments cooled its contents.

"So, why are you here, little brother, Other than to chastise me for my slovenly and decadent ways, of course?" Inquired Abraxus as Mallear took a small sip of the sweet wine.

"It's father, he called Master Plentis here to discuss some matters of import so I came with him, I've got a lot more control now than I once had but I can't really be seperated from him for long without a risk of my power leaking out uncontrollably."

"Oh? And how much have you learned? Can you cast any spells yet? What's your affinity?" pried Abraxus, eagerly, more than any other it had been he who had been most excited when Mallears signature manifested, he was more fascinated by magic than most mages.

"Well..." said Mallear, leaning in conspiratorially "Master Plentis thinks I have a double, maybe even triple affinity, he's isolated that I have Water and Earth affinities but possibly Air as well."

"Really!? But that's incredible, only a handful of mages ever have a triple affinity, usually the ones who make history!"

"Don't get so excited, it may not be an actual third affinity, just an tangential talent for air magic, that's all."

"Honesty before modesty, little brother, you already know you're a triple-affined mage, don't you?"

Mallear gave him a wry smile "No, I don't...but I do have a strong suspicion."

"Ah, but you will be a great mage! I'd love to be there to see you pass your trial." exclaimed Abraxus, toasting Mallear with his goblet before downing the contents in one gulp.

"Well I'm sure you will, though it's some time away yet."

"We shall see, little brother." said Abraxus in an odd, unreadable tone. Mallear was about to inquire as to what he meant before he changed the subject "So, father called the Lord of Tears here, I wonder why?"

"I could not claim knowledge of that, I'm afraid. Master Plentis seemed somewhat reticent on the matter."

Abraxus made a small rumble of acknowledgement and tapped his fingers on the arm of the lounger for a moment and then refilled his goblet from the bottle beside him.

"You don't think...?" said Mallear in a low voice.

"I don't know, little brother, but when a consultation is called with the Lord of Tears things rarely bode well."

~~~*~~~

"You cannot ask this of me!" cried Plentis, slamming his hands down on the surface of General Antonidas's desk.

"Ask what?" asked Antonidas, genially.

"To unleash the Gorgon's Tears, of course!"

"I asked nothing of the sort, I merely want you to ready it for use, as a warning to the Scylla."

"Even that is too much! Anton, please believe me, nothing good will come of waking the Gorgon's Tears." pleaded Plentis.

Antonidas shook his head "It will send a clear message to the Scylla that we are prepared to stand against them with the full might of the clan."

"Or tip us over the edge into outright war!" protested Plentis.

"If the Gorgon's Tears are as fearsome as you claim then it might just as easily avert a war." replied Antonidas, calmly.

"I don't think so, they have fearsome weapons of their own." countered Plentis.

"Well then, if a war is inevitable, as it almost certainly is, then should we not be the ones to make the first move? What is so difficult, old friend? For all its power the Gorgon's Tears is only a weapon, a tool of destruction, a sword upon a grander scale, nothing more."

Plentis sat back in his chair and rubbed his brow sullenly "Anton, the Gorgon's Tears was created by the first mages who learned at the creators feet, it makes use of creator lores, lores we mages of this age barely understand a fraction of."

"And what is your point? You can still control it, can you not?"

"Aye, in the same way someone who knows nothing of iron smelting can wield a sword crafted from steel, but that has nothing to do with it. My point is this; the Gorgon's Tears does not merely destroy, any mage can do that, it changes, it changes the very fabric of reality itself, just as the creators could."

"I still do not see why that should be an issue."

"Well consider this; if we make use of it then there will be no spoils of war, there will be no treasure or slaves to sack from their cities and there will be no land worth taking, because it will render anything it touches a barren and worthless wasteland, perhaps forever."

"Trying to appeal to my baser nature, Plentis? Sorry, but I do not care about spoils, I asked you here to help defend our Clan, not because I hunger for scyllan gold."

"Then let me try your nobler side; you are wrong."

"And how is that?"

"The Gorgon's Tears is not like a sword, a sword kills discriminately according to the will of its wielder, the Gorgon's Tears kill everything, if it is unleashed then innocent blood will be on your hands, enough to fill a lake." said Plentis, gravely.

Antonidas folded his hands and closed his eyes "Are you saying you will not prepare the Gorgon's Tears?"

"Yes."

"Then why do you even exist, Lord of Tears?" snapped Antonidas, his tone so harsh as to make Plentis blink in surprise "Listen well and digest this carefully, Plentis; the defence of the clan has no place in it for bleeding hearts or weak-willed moralising-"

"Y-you impudent-!" snarled Plentis before being cut off.

"-If you cannot do your duty as keeper of the clan arsenal then merely say so and I can arrange for you to be given a different posting." continued Antonidas, raising his voice.

"I have kept the arsenal for hundreds of years, nobody is qualified to replace me!"

"I'm sure my son would be perfectly capable, It is your duty to groom him to inherit your position, after all, and that which he has not picked up from his time with you he will learn on his own." said Antonidas, calmly.

"You...you've planned this for years, haven't you? You know this will cause a clan war." said Plentis, shakily "So that's how it is, is it? Either I accede to this madness or you'll install Mallear as your puppet, in either case-"

"-I get what I want." said Antonidas, completing his sentence, with that he rose from his seat and walked over to the office's large windows and looked out over the expanse of Xarbydis's labyrinth "Except this isn't a matter of what I want, Scylla has just become too great a threat, they need to be put in their place."

"I don't think so, this is because of Palus's dea-"

"Don't speak his name in my presence ever again." said Antonidas, icily.

"So I'm right then, this isn't anything to do with protecting the clan, it's all to satisfy some personal vendetta."

"They murdered him, Plentis. Assassins left a knife in his heart while he slept in our bed, they didn't even have the decency to let him die standing up." growled Antonidas, shaking with repressed rage.

"And for that you would condemn them all?"

The shudders running through Antonidas's body dissipated and he turned from the window to face Plentis "Whatever are you talking about? This is a matter of clan security, nothing more."

"Anton, listen to me-"

"No, you listen to me, if you will not do your duty I will have you replaced, would you prefer that the weapons controls be held by one without your restraint?"

"I will appeal." said Plentis, indignantly.

"All on the council know of how you delved too deep into the creators lore and how it drove you to madness."

"That was in the past, I am fully recovered now."

"Oh, I know, it was I who nursed you back to sanity after all, but there will still be many on the council who would consider you...unstable. And to place the clan arsenal in the hands of one who might be unreliable during such a dangerous time for the clan, especially if the one who cared for them were to speak out against them..."

Plentis stood up suddenly, rising with enough violence to knock the chair over, and raised a hand to point at Antonidas as a thick mist billowed up from around him "I could kill you here, Anton." he said as flickers of lightning arced between his fingers.

"But you won't."

"Don't test me!" roared Plentis.

"It is not a test, you won't kill me, I know you too well." said Antonidas. Plentis shied slightly, he'd never seen anyone face down a lightning spell without so much as a hint of fear, all he saw in Antonidas's eyes were emptiness and cold fury.

The lightning died in his hand and the mist slowly dissapated, he hung his head and grit his teeth in despair "I cannot do it, it will lead to a clan war, I cannot stand to have so many lives end because of me, hundreds of thousands of lives, all dead if this goes on. Please, Anton, don't do this."

"We all have to make sacrifices, Plentis."

"And what are you sacrificing, exactly?" Plentis spat back.

Antonidas smiled a humourless smile and turned back to the window "I am most fortunate to have such talented sons, my eldest is a quite extraordinarily skilled Tempus practitioner, you know? A prodigy, they tell me, a natural talent."

It took Plentis a moment to follow his line of thought, but when he did it hit him like a hammer "You cannot mean...?"

"Yes, he is to be sent for special training, under the proviso that he is to be returned to my service once it is complete." said Antonidas, as though he were calmly discussing the weather.

"You would do such a thing to your own child!?" cried Plentis in disbelief.

"It is for the good of the clan, he would be of best use as a-"

"Enough, I don't want to hear any more of you hiding behind that lie!" Plentis snarled, his heart was racing and he had to force himself to remain calm "He won't survive it intact, few ever do, if he survives it at all he won't be your son anymore. No matter what else happens you can never again be his father if you put him through this, are you prepared for that?" said Plentis, dreading the answer.

"I am."

"Is he?"

"Of course. He's a dutiful son, now he will simply be more so."

A long, hollow silence followed, interrupted only by the whistle of the wind and the obliviously joyful song of birds.

"What the hell happened to you, Anton?"

"Ready the Gorgon's Tears, Plentis." repeated Antonidas.

"I..."

"If you need help then maybe this will be of use." said Antonidas and he opened a locked cabinet inset in his desk and from it removed a large box which he set down on the desk and pushed over to Plentis.

"What is this?"

"Open it."

With trepidation, Plentis snapped the catches and slowly lifted the lid. A second later he shut it again, hard.

"No! I won't do it, not even with this!" he said.

"It would relieve your anxieties, Warlords called upon to perform distasteful duties have found them quite liberating."

"Liberating? Horseshit, they don't free you, it's just another kind of mindbending." hissed Plentis, bitterly.

He shoved the box hard across the desk, just as it was about to go over the edge Antonidas caught it, flipped the lid open and flung the contents at Plentis, on instinct his hands whipped out to catch it.

"Put it on." said Antonidas.

Plentis stared down at the thing in his hands, it was actually quite beautiful, perversely so considering what its purpose was, a marvelously fashioned simulacrum of a minotaurs head, sans horns, the face was the absolute picture of dispassion and two lenses of mirrored crystal covered the eyes, belts of fine leather held the backplate to the face, all things considered it was a wonderful piece of art. In his many years, Plentis had never been more horrified by anything.

"H-have you been using this?" he said in a low, shaky whisper.

"That is none of your concern. Put it on." replied Antonidas.

"No."

"Put. It. On. NOW!"

"I will not be bullied like some slave!" protested Plentis.

"Shut up, Plentis. You will do exactly as I say, you know which one of us has always been the stronger." said Antonidas, coldly.

"I...no, I am a mage now, I have the power here!" cried Plentis, taking a step backwards, a ring of desperation making his voice crack.

Antonidas dissapeared in a flash of Tempus and in an instant he had his fist around Plentis's right horn and forced the mage to his knees.

"That counts for nothing, the kind of strength I'm talking about isn't a matter of physical or magical power, and you know it." he said, his every word dripping with irresistable authority "Now put it on."

"But I-"

"I didn't want to do this to you, believe me when I say that I value our friendship, but you leave me no choice." said Antonidas and lowered his face to whisper something in Plentis's ear, so quietly that it could not be heard from more than a foot away. Immediately a subtle change came over Plentis, it was barely perceptible but an observant viewer would notice his eyes glaze over, his jaw slacken slightly and that he no longer resisted Antonidas's grip.

"As you say, old friend, I have planned this for years. Now, put it on."

"Yes, master."

~~~*~~~

Was it five bottles or six? Thought Mallear, trying to remember just how much booze he had downed since accepting that first goblet. It was amazing how quickly they got empty once you started. That was foolish, far too early for hard drinking...

"You're a bad influence." he said aloud.

"Who is?" said Abraxus, draining another goblet.

"Can't remember, you I think."

"Me? B'that's crazy, I'm your big brother, overflowing with wisdom and...other equally salient virtues. A paradigm to live up to."

"Paragon." corrected Mallear.

"Yeah, one of those too." said Abraxus, upturning a winebottle and getting nothing but a few drops "Bugger, issat slave o'yours around here? We need more wine."

"Sod off, get your own." said Mallear, grabbing First, who had just stood up as he'd been mentioned, and holding the perplexed human protectively to his chest.

"I had one till you scared 'im off!" protested Abraxus.

"Oh, aye...well I suppose we could go get it together then?" said Mallear.

"Tha's not the logical progression...the logical progression is you going and sending your human to get more as recommence."

"Recompense."

"And that."

"No!" cried Mallear, hugging First so tight his eyes bulged slightly.

"You're bein' irrational." said Abraxus with a wagged finger.

"Yes I am, and it's your fault!"

"Ah, new information, in that case then we should go together." said Abraxus, nodding sagely.

"Really!?" exclaimed Mallear to the sound of a sudden intake of breath from First as his embrace loosened.

"Definately, it'd only be fair." replied Abraxus and swung off the lounger, he stood up a little too suddenly and fought to keep his balance for a moment before finding an equilibrium. Mallear did the same, though aided by the convenient human walking-stick that was First, who provided a helpfully stable shoulder.

The three of them moved through the mostly-empty corridors with a dubious attempt at stealth, Mallear in particular only avoided knocking several rather valuable ornaments from their display plinths thanks to steadying pulls and pushes from First and Abraxus. Their arrival in the kitchens caused a storm of activity as house slaves rushed to assist them.

"Nevermind us, jus' passing through." announced Abraxus, genially shooing them away before he turned to whisper to Mallear "I'm not sure it's the done thing to be drunk in front of the humans, gives 'em bad ideas and all that, best get what we came for and be gone quick, eh?"

"I am not drunk!" bellowed Mallear "I've never been drunk in my life!"

"And it shows, little brother, it shows." said Abraxus as First, propping up Mallears weight with some difficulty, rolled his eyes.

In due course, and with alot of fumbling and a few near-disasters on the steps of the winecellar, they finally managed to get hold of a medley of bottles, some of surpassing quality and others of cheapest table wine to be served to unwanted guests, with little care taken for what they contained. Their slow progression back to Abraxus's chambers was, if anything, even noisier than their leaving. They had just gotten to the doors of the chamber when a familliar voice chimed in from behind.

"Abraxus, it is time." said their father, Antonidas, and both turned with a start.

"Father? Me and Mallear were just doing a little celebrating, why don't you come and-" said Abraxus sheepishly.

"There's no time for that, they are already here, say goodbye to your brother." said Antonidas, sternly.

"Already? But-"

"I have given you quite enough time to debauch yourself, now it is time you did your duty to your clan."

"Wait, goodbye? What's all this about, 'braxus? Father?" said Mallear in confusion.

He looked to his older brother and Abraxus's tawny face smiled sadly "I'm sorry, I thought I had more time, I didn't want you to see this."

"See what? Talk sense, 'braxus!"

His questions were soon answered when three minotaurs walked out of a side passage behind Antonidas, one stood tall and straight, hands clasped behind his back and severe-looking in his utilitarian black-linen shirt and trousers contrasting oddly with his patchy black-and-white fur, the two who flanked him could hardly be seen beneath the dark hoods that covered their faces and bodies but they stood slightly stooped and defferential to the other.

"No! No, you can't! Father..." said Mallear pleadingly but when he looked into his fathers eyes there was only cool conviction "...Abraxus?" and in his brothers there was weary resignation, he couldn't even bare to meet Mallears eyes.

"Please, Mallear, it's allright, I've known this day would come for a while now." said Abraxus, sadly, still avoiding Mallears gaze.

"No it's not allright! Have you any idea what they'll do to you!?" cried Mallear in tearfull desperation.

"Stand aside Mallear, they aren't here for you." said Antonidas, imperiously.

"I will not! Why are they even here, Abraxus can't-" started Mallear.

Before he could complete the sentance the black-and-white minotaur made a series of sharp hand gestures and uttered the cryptic command "Discerp."

Immediately the two minotaurs beside him, one a deep roan and the other a hazel, threw off their cloaks, revealing themselves to be nude beneath besides for the thick leather collars around their necks, they were also, he dimly noted, dehorned, which only served to confirm his grim hypothesis; ninja. In the beating of a fly's wing they charged for Mallear and Abraxus, shifting to Tempus...

Impossible. That was the only word that Mallear could think of to describe how swiftly they moved, not even masters could go that deep into Tempus, it was impossible. But they were doing it. He didn't even have time to do more than wonder before the roan smashed First out of his way and into the wall with a sickening thud and a suprised yelp and had Mallear in a vise-like headhold and wrestled him to the ground, the bottles falling from his hands and shattering on the tiles. He looked round in a daze and saw that the hazel had Abraxus's arms locked behind his back and was marching him in the direction of the black-and-white.

"I have never had to say this before, but your son will be safe with us, I take good care of my special boys." said the black-and-white to his Father in a conversational manner.

"Just send him back perfected or not at all." replied Anonidas, impassively.

"Ah, you are a ruthless one, sir! A man after my own heart, if you don't mind me saying."

"I do. Take him and get out." said Antonidas before turning back down the hallway and shifting to Tempus.

The black-and-white looked slightly offended but made no comment other than to gesture to the roan, who pushed Mallears face into the floor, placed a knee painfully in his back and rose smoothly with a practiced grace, following the hazel and taking one of Abraxus's arms.

"Daddy just made your little stay with us alot more unpleasant, boy." said the black-and-white to Abraxus, cracking a malevolent smirk, and Abraxus hung his head wordlessly.

"Wait!" cried Mallear, scrabbling drunkenly to his hooves "Leave him alone, there must have been some mistake!"

"No mistake, you should rejoice, your dear brother is soon to become one of my prized and talented boys, we're just one big happy family, isn't that right, lads?"

"Yes, Master." said the Roan and Hazel in tandem.

"There, see how happy they are? Don't you want the same for your brother?" said the black-and-white with a twinge of sardonic humour.

Fear was replaced by rage in Mallears eyes and he envisioned the black-and-white minotaur dead by his hands in a thousand different ways. He settled on crushed to death beneath the force of his Earth-magic.

"I don't think so, you're not leaving here with him." said Mallear, his voice rumbling with determination, as he gathered his magic for a blast of battering force.

The black-and-white recoiled in fear when he realised what Mallear was doing and raised his hand again to gesture at the two minotaurs.

"Hammer, Maul, stop him!" he cried and the hazel and roan released Abraxus and turned to Mallear.

There was a second that seemed to stretch on for eternity as Mallear saw the two of them catch a bead on him and turn sharply on the spot before launching into a run, shifting deeper and deeper into Tempus before they had even completed one step, moving at unearthly speed while he moved as though underwater, a fist drawn back to slam into him with bone-crushing force...and then they both stopped.

Or rather, they hit something, an invisible screen of force. He lost control of the spell in suprise and a moment later felt a sharp smack to the back of the neck. He toppled over, head swimming, and looked up to see the source of the blow, and the protective screen; a minotaur with a steel face. It was the last thing he saw before the blackness of unconsciousness swallowed him.

~~~*~~~

He awoke with a splitting headache, a stygian combination of hangover and post-concussion, surrounded by the familliar trappings of his own chambers, he looked around in confusion for a moment and found First asleep in his bed beside him with a bandaged torso, he could feel the well-known dampness of Plentis's magic suffusing both the bandages and himself, some kind of healing-spell.

Oh no, Abraxus! He tried to rise but a vicious pain stabbed through his neck and back, forcing him back onto the bed, it seemed his injuries had yet to heal.

Mallear...

He scanned the room for the source of the ghostly voice but saw none but himself and First.

Mallear...

Again, there it was.

"Hello? Is anyone there?"

Mallear...

The sound came from beside him, from...the bedside table? There, resting on the table was a square wooden box with a sealed letter sitting on top. He extended a hand and picked the letter up.

Malle-

He snapped the seal and the sound abruptly stopped, apparently it was the source. He carefully unfolded the letter, taking every care not to rip it and risk damaging any enchantments it might bare. Peering through teary eyes he examined the writing;

_Mallear, my Apprentice.

I am dearly sorry for your loss, and for your generations loss as well, things are about to change for our clan and they will in all likelihood change for the worse, I have readied the Gorgon's Tears and now war with Scylla is truely unavoidable. I can no longer help you directly, I am going to do what I can to avert the tragedy that I know will transpire and I do not count my chances of success or survival as particularly high, but I must try.

If there is any will in you left to continue, and from our time together I know there is, please follow this, my last instruction as your master;_

Cast the 447th permuation of Earth upon this letter, it will show you a map to a hidden laboratory I used to study the lore of the creators, you will be safe there and it will contain much of what you need, the key to enter it is the 27th permutation of water followed by the 13th of earth and the 129th of air. You must go there under cover, tell no-one, least of all your father, and be sure to take the human I gave you, he is a treasure box and, though I leave it up to you to decide whether the treasure he holds is of value, I suspect you will need him for more reasons than one. You will have to find a new master to teach you, in my 17th journal inside the laboratory you will find directions to the human land of Celtia, the mage-priests who rule there are savage but they remember many things that others have forgotten, secrets of the creators and lost lores, you will find them to be excellent teachers, I did. You will need allies, but alas this I cannot help you with, I have cultivated so few. The final thing I give you is the location of a creator-artifact of vast power, it may be of some use to you but in order to recover it you will have to stand against its defenders, a tribe of humans who cannot truely be called feral, for they have never before been tamed, it may take the might of a whole clan to bring them low, the location is detailed in my last journal, The Riddle of the Cells.

Read my journals and you will understand better what I mean when I say this; I give you the power to make a difference, with what I provide you will have the ability to change the world, it is my final gift to you, Apprentice, for I think you are likely soon to be disenchanted with the way it is, if you are not already so. You cannot avert the coming storm, try to and all you will accomplish is to be blown away in its fury, but you can prevent it from coming again. The box contains something

that you may need if forced to make a difficult and painful decision, use it sparingly if at all.

And that is that, my apprentice, it is my final wish to confer my title upon you, Mallear, Lord of Tears. The title comes from the duty it bestows, to cause many an eye to shed their tears in sorrow, but for you I want it to have a different meaning; dry the eyes of the world, Mallear, only you can.

Your Teacher and Friend,

Plentis.

P.S. The one who took your brother goes by the name of Spymaster Thadris, shine your light into the dark places of our clan and you will find him. You cannot fight him the way you are now, you have already seen the skills of the ones who he commands, but I cannot say how long Abraxus will be able to hold onto who he is, the training regimes are gruelling and cruel beyond wholesome description, so if you are to save him you must act quickly.

Good luck.