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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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NOTE FROM THE AUTHOR: The world this story is set in is the one of Onyx Tao's excellent story series Cold Blood (don't throw a fit, it's all open license and Tao's a great guy!) and is set into the timeline at around about chapter 3 - Green Fields - but is to be considered non-canonical, being purely a fanwork. If you enjoyed this then go check out Cold Blood which as of the writing of this is up to it's 18th chapter, I guarantee you won't be dissapointed.

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With feverish intent Arafal Lord Chant pored over the dozens of tomes, scrolls and manuscripts laid before him, he'd long ago lost track of the hour, his blood was up and the thrill of the hunt was upon him. He'd found it, he'd found a thread at last.

Malinus, Malinar, Maelar, Malivon, Mallear; a thread, a line of names three thousand years long, as one disappeared soon the other would spring up in their stead, another name, another clan.

Malinus had appeared soon after the fall of Xarbydis, apparently as an unknown heir to a deceased general, taking his place as a Warlord among the Ungoliant, bringing with him, seemingly from nowhere with no knowledge of his sources ever given, detailed reports of the fledgeling human nations and what would become the Empire of modern times, reports that kept the ferals under control for many years. Four hundred years later he vanished while on patrol near wolven-inhabited lands along with his entire squad.

Malinar was a travelling journal-writer of some note and unknown clan who appeared some years later, bringing with him the theories of a mage by the name of Ravanali, believed by most to have been a jaguen mystic, who believed that the divisions of the elements of magic were an illusion, a trick of the mind, and that all magic was holistic and unified. The theories were largely deemed to have ben misguided, though interesting, and were summarily dismissed by the majority of clan mage lords despite that the applications of Ravanali's theories allowed for the creation of effects that were previously thought outside the bounds of a particular elements scope, such as mind-effecting manifestations of earth magic, using water magic to produce effects thought only attainable with fire or creating far-reaching spells of air. Malinar vanished a short while later, after his brief fame had faded.

Maelar appeared mere months later among the Ouroboros, records described him vaguely as 'second cousin to Rodinar the merchant' and made no further comment on his ancestry, his studies on human physiology and psychology visionary even to the day, forming the basis of many modern slave-keeping practices and vastly expanding the field of human medicine, he joined Lycail in the split from Ouroboros and vanished off the records soon later.

Mallivon was a physician, personal apothecary to the lord of Clan Manticore, and an avid naturalist who's writings were based around the hypothesis that all life, having been placed in the world by the creators, must have some form of discernable, logical balance by which one could predict the medicinal properties of certain organic compounds. He catalogued much of modern herb-lore and revised many old theories and practices. His later writings showed that he had fallen out of favour with his previous hypothesis, believing that much of nature was made out of pure whimsy of the creators and nothing more. Records show he died in a fire that destroyed his laboratory, though his body was recovered it was idetifiable only by the seal of rank that survived the fire.

And now Mallear, a Lycaili slave trader, master of the House of the Red Wheel, a slave-house renowned for its oddities and exotic fare, patronised by many lords of the Manticore seeking rare and unusual stock. Red Wheel, he was sure he had heard of that phrase used somewhere before but...the memory just wouldn't come. Memory came so much more sluggishly these days.

At least he now understood what had been meant by his percipient deduction that his quarry was a Lycaili. He had danced from clan to clan, flitting in and out of history, but twice had he been Lyacaili, more than any other clan; once as Maelar, once as Mallear.

"You actually found a way of countering percipience, and without magic too. Fooling it with the truth, you magnificent bastard." he rumbled, chuckling in admiration for such a gambit. He often found himself beginning to admire those he tracked, when they were clever and devious, though never before had he seen a ploy of evasion so masterful both in it's intricacy of execution and it's elegantly simple goal.

His thoughts returned to the book he had kept locked up every moment it was out of his sight; To my apprentice, Mallear, who shall soon become the teacher, read the dedication.

"So why did you go back to your old name?" he whispered to himself, jigsaw pieces of thought slotting themselves together in his mind to form a coherent whole "Is your plan that close to fruition that you no longer need the deception? Is your ego so vast that you...you want your true name remembered?"

With a frustrated sigh he leaned back in his chair and rubbed his brow, the creak of leather and wood breaking the silence. He took a long puff from his pipe and stared at the papers from afar, as though distance would allow him to see some larger scheme among the tangled pages.

"What are you planning? You have power, so much power...what are you going to do with it?"

The embers of his pipe illuminated his face in the darkness where the candles could not and he exhaled a breath of sweet smoke.

"What does an immortal desire?" he pondered.

~~*~~

Claudius placed the final full-stop on the document that Cassius had dictated and set his pen aside, it was the last of many official missals to the Archon of Kurga, the regional governor, no less than twenty local warlords, five generals and the Masters of Clan Manticore themselves, explaining with intricate detail in the complex and verbose tones of official minotaur language, which he was beginning to discover had a syntax all of its own, the events that took place on the night of the attack. Each letter contained an annotated list of sections from inter-clan law as well as Manticore and Lycaili law that freed Ambassador Cassius from personal responsibility and investigation for the death of Justicar Typhus that resulted from the assassination attempt along with testamonials from Lord Chant and Captain Tiberius. The depth and intricacy of minotaur beureucracy staggered him a little, as did its futility when Cassius informed him in an offhand remark that most of them "Probably wouldn't be read anyway."

Cassius had caught the look of dismay that flashed momentarily across his face and snorted at his reaction "But it is the proper procedure, and that is everything." he said. Since the incident Cassius had recovered with astounding speed, the application of Lord Chant's spells had left his wound practically nonexistant and after the nights rest he seemed somewhat renewed, though apparently even his powerful constitution was drawn by the fight and the golden minotaur still tired more quickly than usual and spent the day recuperating in front of the fire in his study with a bulb of some strong liquor rather than going about whatever business he concerned himself with when he left Adamant Manor. Claudius had mixed feelings about that, it meant that he got to spend more time in Cassius's presence, he was beginning get the distinct inkling that Cassius didn't treat him the same as other humans, often times he would spend hours just talking with him about seemingly trivial matters or asking probing questions about the Empire, his life or even just his opinion on things. He didn't know for sure but he was fairly certain that few minotaurs would care about a humans opinion on anything, much less ask for it. But on the other hand it was slightly troubling to see Cassius so weak, he knew why; it reminded him of his childhood. It was laughable really that he should see himself in the minotaur but he did, the years of weakness and ill health that had dogged him in his early years and ensured that he would never be able to be as strong or fit as his brothers and so never be able to please his father, no matter how hard he tried, came racing back when he looked at Cassius sitting before the fire, a slight slope of weariness in his broad shoulders.

But then...that was his old life, it scared him as much as it intrigued him that he seemed fine with the idea, less than a month ago the idea of being taken as a battle-captive and enslaved would have been too horrifying to imagine, and by minotaurs no less! But those words he had uttered to Cassius in the coach house were true, he honestly couldn't think of any way in which he was worse off for it, it wasn't as if a penniless accountant had much in the way of freedom anyway, nor a slightly-richer quartermaster for that matter, in between scraping together enough to live on he probably had less time to himself than he did now. And...and there was Cassius himself, he knew the minotaur did something to him, something beyond the influence, he wasn't sure what it was but for some reason whenever he even thought about going back to the Empire a dagger of revulsion shot through him.

He sighed and tried to silence the nagging thoughts, failed miserably, then hopped down off the stool, papers in hand, and walked over to Cassius's armchair.

"This requires your signature, Master." he said, offering Cassius an inkpen and the letter.

The minotaur turned groggily and took the pen and sheaf of papers from him and thumbed through them before making his signature. He was about to hand them back to Claudius but then hesitated "This...should be delivered in person." he said to himself aloud and sat back to think for a few seconds, tapping the sheaf against hs chin thoughtfully before looking up at Claudius "Put this in a scroll case, perhaps onyx or...jade? No, what am I thinking, that would be too ostentatious...ivory. Yes, an ivory case would be appropriate."

"Yes, Master. Though might I inquire as to why the case would be so significant?" said Claudius, mid stride to the cabinet where the more valuable pieces of office equipment were kept and fishing around inside his tunic for the key on its thong.

"You may, Onyx, Jade and Ivory have symbolic significances that correlate to death among the Manticore, the choice of scroll case is quite important. To use Jade, the most valuable of the three, where the deceased was a simple guardsman might imply that I was trying too hard to impress, which could be interpreted as a serious faux pas' given the context. It would be...indelicate, even patronising. Similarly, were I to present the scroll in an Onyx case I may be seen as trying to play the safe, middle road; unlikely to offend but inarticulate and prone to cost me credibility, which as a clan diplomat I cannot afford to lose even in the smallest ammount to anyone. So Ivory then, the least valuable but in this case the most appropriate."

"That seems a little...overly complex, Master." said Claudius, selecting a carved Ivory scrollcase from the cabinet, he hadn't examined any of the dozens of different scrollcases before but now up-close saw that it was eerily carved with images skeletal minotaurs holding weapons or playing what looked like flutes. Why flutes? Was that more to do with certain instruments having signifcances, like with the aulos? That seemed reasonable enough a theory, but still; why flutes?

Cassius laughed aloud, the first time he had done so in a while "BY the standards of most, Clan Manticore are virtually blase' about matters of formality, the Lycaili tradition is somewhat less...how should I put this...transparent? But they do have something of a fetish for symbolism, it's part of their warrior mythology and all that damnable superstiton."

Excessive formality, that was certainly something he was beginning to notice, Cassius at least seemed to take great stock in matters of appearances and etiquette, why was that? When he had first started reading the volumes on the subject from Cassius's library he had assumed that none but the most stiff-necked would ever bother applying every proscription within them in real life but somehow he was beginning to think that maybe they really did; and that was more worrying than anything, Cassius seemed rather lenient with him but the risk of being sold to a minotaur who was not so forgiving had become a fresh kind of terror that haunted his waking moments, if he was to avoid coming into trouble should such a thing occur then he had to master minotaur culture, and by the look of it that was going to be no mean task.

Well, one step at a time. He carefully rolled up the prepared documents then slid them into the scrollcase and capped the end, he then placed a small block of cobalt-blue sealing wax, no larger than his thumbnail, into a heating pan and held it above a candle until it had melted before pouring a blob of the bright-blue stuff into the recess on the cases join and stamping it with Cassius's signet.

No sooner had Cassius's hand closed around the completed document when the office's doors were opened by one of the warriors that arrived the night before, his creamy-yellowish pelt was marked intermittently by tiny fingerprint-sized black spotches and two nightmarish flanged maces hung at his belt, he was also the only minotaur Claudius had seen that was even beggining to approach being overweight and a slight but noticable paunch showed under his shirt, though he was no less massively muscled for it.

"Begging your pardon, Ambassador, but Lord Chant wanted me to inform you that he is leaving for the Manticore creator ruins and will be taking some of the guard with him." said the minotaur.

"Hmmm, good, perhaps events around here will begin approaching normality again, at long last." said Cassius, rising from his chair "Will Captain Tiberius be accompanying him?"

"Yes, Ambassador. As second I will be taking Captain Tiberius's place until his return."

"I see, and your name, warrior?" said Cassius, the conversational tone dissapearing from his voice.

"Roblar, sir." the warrior said, standing to attention.

"So, Warrior Roblar, do you believe you have sufficient men remaining to ensure the security of the grounds? The target of last nights attack was likely Lord Chant but it may be repeated nonetheless."

The warrior slackened slightly "To tell you the truth, Ambassador, I'm not sure the number of men would make much of a difference given the unknown factor that the enemy represents." he said "The abilities of the creatures described are...unprecedented, and therefore unpredictable, the only thing I can suggest is maintaining mage-fighting readiness at all times. Fighting mages is much the same situation, one must expect to encounter that which one cannot prepare for beyond a certain degree."

"I will deffer to your judgement in these matters, my military training has been largely informal, do what you think necessary but do not hesitate to inform me if you require assistance with regards to resources, I may even be able to acquire further reinforcements if necessary."

The warrior grimaced visibly "That I doubt, Ambassador."

"Really? I cannot fathom why, provincial though my office may be I still have some degree of sway within the warlord council."

"News travels slowly in these parts, the Clan is mobilising almost the entire Lycaili army, there have been...complications with regards to the Imperial incursion."

Claudius's attention immediately came into sharp focus on the warrior's words, something had happened with the main force? Whatever it was it seemed to have perturbed the warrior greatly and that was worrying in and of itself, after seeing the minotaurs battle-prowess firsthand he had assumed that they would have been in for a swift and decisive trouncing.

"Complications? I would have thought it would have been over and dealt with by now." said Cassius, apparently thinking the same way.

Roblar made a strained sigh "It would have, but the ferals employed a new weapon, one that contravenes the treaty of Xarbydis. The towns closest to their force are being evacuated to Maze as we speak."

"Casualties?" said Cassius, insistantly.

Roblar took a deep breath before speaking, as though readying himself "Many, the Orobouros advance force was decimated, more than decimated, dead to a man if the reports are accurate."

Claudius's breath caught in his throat, a new weapon? One that could fight, and apparently win, against minotaurs? It was almost unthinkable, he couldn't even begin to imagine what kind of weapon could do that, as quartermaster he should have been notified of any weapons carried by the Legion forces but this had remained hidden from him. His eyes flicked to Cassius as he pretended to busy himself with some paperwork, a new worry had invaded his heart; that Cassius's opinion of him might change as a result of this, and he couldn't imagine it changing for the better.

Cassius sat down again, hard, seemingly stunned "By Lycail..."

"Last thing I heard Lord Fog was going to attempt diplomacy, and to educate them of the treaty and its contraventions."

"Well it's a little late now, isn't it!?" snapped Cassius "I said this would happen, I said this day would come over and over again but only a handfull on the council ever listened! And if Fog gets himself killed too that will make one less even of them."

"I know, Ambassador, I had heard of your sympathy with the progressivist point of view."

"My political leanings aside, communication with the Empire should have been established centuries ago, expecting them to hold to the strictures of the treaty without them even knowing of it's existance is the very definition of foolishness, the traditionalist faction brought this on themselves. Worse, they brough it on us all." said Cassius, angrily, gripping the arms of his chair so hard the varnish began to crack.

"I doubt the traditionalists will see it that way."

Cassius laughed aloud, a bitter, humourless laugh "Yes, they probably will at that, no doubt they will already be chastising the progressivists for sheltering the Empire and baying for a full-scale pacification."

Roblar went silent, a long, uncomfortable moment followed for what seemed like an eternity.

"I am that correct?" said Cassius, wearily.

Roblar cleared his throat again "There have been murmurings to that effect, yes."

"And more than one raised voice, I'd venture." quipped Cassius.

"Yes, Ambassador." replied Roblar, tersely.

"And, might I ask, what your opinions on the situation are, warrior Roblar?" Inquired Cassius.

"With all due respect, sir, that is an innapropriate question to ask of me."

Cassius studied the Warriors face for a long moment before finally slapping his hands down on his knees and rising smoothly to his hooves "Quite right, warrior, any answer could bring dishonour upon you, I apologise."

"Ah...apology accepted, Ambassador." said Roblar, seemingly taken aback, though Claudius couldn't guess why, another part of the nigh-indecipherable minotaur etiquette, he presumed.

"Though, for the sake of argument, I would not be so reactionary as to discount your value on the basis of your politics."

"Thank you, Ambassador."

"Has Lord Chant yet departed?" said Cassius, addressing Roblar in a flat tone, his previous good spirits drained away.

"No, Sir." said the warrior, resuming his at-attention stance.

Cassius nodded "Good, take me to him," he said before turning to Claudius, the anger he expected to see in Cassius's eyes was blessedly absent "Scribe, you come also, bring your implements."

"Y-yes, Master." said claudius, stuttering slightly and nodding enthusiastically in relief as he gathered up the small writing set, blank ledger and stoppered vials of ink into a cloth shoulder satchel and hurried off after Cassius and the warrior Roblar.

"And as a matter of prudence, Warrior, might I ask if you or any of those under you possess master-level Tempus abilities?" asked Cassius as they walked.

Roblar nodded "Three of us in all, not counting the Captain, all warlord-capable but..."

"Yes, positions are limited, I understand." said Cassius after the warrior trailed off "In that case I would ask that you and those who are capable follow my carriage to the council building behind the now. Not inside, of course, objections would be raised, quite pointed objections, not to mention edged and bludgeoning ones."

"I...suppose I could do that, though why not simply guard you in full view, all the better to prove a deterrant against attack?" inquired Roblar in a quizzical tone.

"Ah, but Warrior, you assume I do not want to be attacked." replied Cassius, cryptically, and a determined understanding seemed to settle on Roblar's bovine features.

Outside, Lord Chant's coach was being readied for travel, Claudius hadn't seen the sheer quantity of luggage that the aged minotaur mage had brought to Adamant Manor but with only the small travel-library and investigative instruments alone it was a sizeable ammount of mass, even on the redoubtable and wide-wheeled minotaur carriage. Lord Chant himself was checking items from a scroll as his slaves loaded each piece on but paused when Cassius and Roblar emerged from the front doors.

"Ah, Cassius, here to see me off?" Said Lord Chant, looking up from his list.

"I shall, I assure you, but currently I seek your assistance on a certain matter before you leave."

"Oh? I'm not really much of a player in your field of work, my office requires me to be somewhat apolitical so I'm not sure how I could help..." replied Lord Chant in a skeptical tone.

"And no doubt you want to remain that way, I understand that," said Cassius, placatingly "but custom demands that I see the city governor in person over this debacle and Dante, excellent at his job though he is, holds me in some degree of contempt. Having a Manticore clansman personally present to vouch for me would help to smooth things over a great deal."

"Contempt? Did he express this publicly?" asked Lord Chant, aghast.

"I heard of it only second-hand, though it did confirm some suspicions of mine so it is not entirely uncorroborated." said Cassius, carefully.

"I'm sure it wasn't that bad..." started Lord Chant.

"I believe his exact words were 'prattling, preening, empty-headed Lycaili fop' if I remember correctly." said Cassius in a level tone.

"Ah..." said Lord Chant, gravely "Yes, I can see how that may lead to some uncomfortable meetings."

"You have no idea. So will you lend me your company?"

Lord Chant looked up at the clouds for a moment in thought, his horn-bells tinkling gently in the wind before finally nodding "I suppose it is the least I could do after bringing near-ruin upon your house and enjoying your hospitality and assistance."

Cassius's muzzle twisted into a warm minotaur smile "Thank you, Arafal, it is much appreciated."

"Not at all," rebuffed Lord Chant, dimissively "and might I say that whatever other praiseworthy attributes this Dante fellow has, judge of character is not one of them."

"I was hoping you would find his estimation unfair." said Cassius, wryly.

"Of course! 'Empty-headed' indeed, he clearly doesn't have eyes in his head nor wit with which to use them."

"And the rest?"

Arafal made an exaggerated show of stroking his beard in mock-contemplation "Hmmm...entirely accurate." he said at last, returning the wry smile "But don't let that encourage you to think I hold you in lower esteem because of it, vanity and loquaciousness are laudable traits in a diplomat, I think, it wouldn't do to have a Clan representative that was unkempt and stuttering, after all."

Given that Lord Chant's carriage was loaded down with equipment Cassius ordered his own brought round, the human Claudius had seen before, Driver, hitched up a pair of gigantic white horses of such fine quality that they would have sold for half their weight in gold back in the Empire and brought it round. At Cassius's command, Claudius got in along with the two minotaurs and sat on the bench rather than the floor where he had been going to until Cassius motioned for him to stop and sit beside him. He didn't question why, though he did notice a barely-audible 'tut' of indulgent and well-meaning dissaproval coming from Lord Chant.

"Cassius?" said Arafal, after a minute, entering the silence broken only by the rumble of the carriage.

"Hmmm?"

"You are generally regarded by most as being one of...above average intellect," the Mage Lord began.

"With the notable exception of Dante, yes." said Cassius, his muzzle twisting into a ruefull grin.

"Yes...I just wondered whether I could pose you a question, more of a philosophical quandry really, it's been bothering me and I thought maybe a younger and fresher mind might be able to grasp it better."

"Well, I can make an attempt, I suppose, though I often find questions of such a nature lead one to nowhere in many if not all cases."

Lord Chant nodded grimly in agreement "Well see what you can deduce in this; propose you are a being, occupying this world or one much like it, possessed of vast power, as much as you might need for virtually any purpose, and immortality,"

"I follow you so far, go on..." said Cassius.

"Now, here is the quandry; what do you want given that you already have just about everything a being living in this world could dream of possessing?"

Cassius folded his arms and bowed his head in concentration, after a pause he said "That...is a difficult question, Arafal, I am not sure that I can adequately answer it."

Lord Chant huffed frustratedly "Nevermind, I'm probably talking gibberish anyway." he said, wearily.

"Hold on, Arafal, I said that I could not answer it, not that it could not be answered, however I think there is someone here who could." said Cassius and with that he turned his head and looked down at Claudius.

"Your human? Why would you think he could solve it if you could not?" said Lord Chant with what Claudius could only decipher as a look of abject confusion.

"For one, he has a formal education in such matters where I have only a passing interest,"

"Pah, a feral education is hardly an education at all." replied the greying minotaur with a dismissive offhand wave, Claudius broke Cassius's gaze and stared intently at his sandals to hide the scowl that rose on his face at Lord Chant's words.

"Secondly," continued Cassius, ingoring Lord Chant's protest "I am in a poor position to answer such a question as I am already quite content with my lot, it is quite expansive enough already even without omnipotence, after all."

The golden minotaur put an arm around Claudius's shoulders and immediately all thoughts of Lord Chant's condescending remarks vanished, barely thinking about it, he snuggled a little closer into the embrace.

"So then, who better to ask than one who has no power at all and less in the way of 'immortality' than we together possess?" said Cassius, with an air of mild triumph.

Lord Chant rumbled sceptically at first but after a moment his muzzle twisted into a smile and he barked a short laugh "Hah! Your logic is obtuse but...very well then, ask your little feral clerk, it should be amusing at least." he said, shaking his head.

"Scribe," Cassius said softly, addressing Claudius.

"Yes, Master?" he replied, staring into the minotaurs vast black eyes.

"Can you think of an answer to Lord Chant's quandry? I would be most pleased if you could, though you court no displeasure if you cannot, it may well be an unanswerable question." he said.

Claudius swallowed a sigh and tried to fight through the fog that was building around his mind merely from having Cassius speak to him directly, he had to look away from Cassius's eyes, he minotaurs ashen gaze made him too flustered to think straight. Years of philosophy training trickled back though as he considered the quandry from the perspective of the strictures of philosophic logic he learned to follow back in the scholastica.

After a brief pause he thought he had come up with a suitable answer.

"Well, Master, I think if I were such a being and occupying this world or one like it...the thing I would want would be a better world." he answered.

A stunned silence came over the carriage, Cassius's smile deepened and he turned to Lord Chant who was sitting looking slightly suprised, his rheumy eyes a little wider than usual and his jaw hanging just slightly open.

The minotaur mage laughed uproariously a moment later as he slapped his thigh "How could I ever have doubted you, Cas? 'A better world', of course, I don't know why I hadn't thought of that!"

"I rather think it is Scribe whom you doubted, not I." said Cassius, pulling Claudius onto his lap and fastening his hands about his waist, Claudius nearly sighed with happiness at the closeness of the golden minotaur and settled back against his chest, breathing in the salt-pine fragrance.

"Eh? Oh, yes, I...I suppose I have, did, rather," said Lord Chant, nearly forgotten by Claudius "Well done, human. I think that may have been just the answer I have been looking for" he said.

"Thank you, Great Lord Chant." replied Claudius, reacting automatically, his mind still focused on Cassius as he squirmed a little on the minotaurs lap, trying to get in tighter against Cassius's body.

"I say, he's an affectionate one, isn't he?" said Lord Chant with a chuckle.

"Hmmm," rumbled Cassius "Yes, I've never seen a human quite as strongly affected by the influence before, but such oddities occur from time to time, I suppose."

"Yes...strangely enough, there's a slave house in town that caters to those is search of 'oddities'. The House of the Red Wheel, have you heard of it? It is operated by one of your clansmen."

"I daresay I probably have at some point, though I don't recall it at the moment. I didn't purchase Scribe here at the House of the Red Wheel, if that is what you are asking."

Lord Chant grunted dissapointedly in reply "Did you, erm...?" said Lord Chant, after a moment, miming something Claudius couldn't guess and didn't really care about anyway, that struck him as strange, they were obviously talking about him and to be more precise about doing something to him, he should care about something like that, shouldn't he? Instead there was nothing in the world he really gave a damn about outside the strange lassitude he felt in Cassius's arms.

"Hmmm? Oh, that. No, not yet, nor do I ever intend to unless it becomes necessary."

Lord Chant sniffed "Your slave, I suppose. Not sure I hold with these strange modern notions of yours though, it's common lore that humans are far happier when they're kept close to heel, it helps them concentrate on their duties more when they aren't burdened by worrying about other things."

"That is indeed the common lore." replied Cassius, simply, his tone unreadable and controlled "Though I feel that moreoften the result of such training is to rid them of the burden of thought, not worry."

Lord Chant seemed to study Cassius's eyes for a moment and then turned away and looked out the window intently, the rest of the ride, short as it was, was conducted in silence. The atmosphere in the carriage wasn't necessarily uncomfortable but it felt strained somehow, like there was a potential there for some yet unmanifested unpleasantness that neither one of them really wanted to broach.

The carriage slowed to a halt outside what was perhaps the most impressive building Claudius had ever seen; a flight of black steps wide enough to march a regiment of legionnaires up in formation led to a pair of brass double doors some thirty feet tall, currently open wide, and spanned on either side by pillars of black and red veined marble that held up the archway. The building itelf was gargantuan, tapering upwards like a small artificial mountain constructed of the same black slabs of volcanic mountain-stone that characterised much of Kurga's architecture, at the very peak of the edifice he could see what looked like a shining onyx pyramid that glinted in the wan sunlight. It looked like a fortress more than the residence of an official, after a little consideration he concluded it was probably both. Everywhere there was a bustle of foot-traffic passing in and out of the great doors, minotaurs in official-looking dress, mostly shades of Manticore red, strolled imperiously about on whatever matter of importance they were there for or made conversation with others and a fair number of human messengers carrying scrollcases or satchels much like his own darted around on their errands.

The street was loud with basso-profundo conversation and the occasional bone-shaking laugh from the minotaurs, to his suprise decorations had been put in place all the way up and down the avenue that he hadn't noticed before; enormous wreaths of some berry-carrying leafy plant had been strung periodically from rooftop-to-rooftop, running down the sides of the buildings, and carved, painted wooden facade's had been set up on some of the buildings along the way, the whole effect utterly dispelled the cold, oppressive look that Kurga had on every other occasion he had seen it up close. Decorations for the Kurganalia, he supposed.

He followed Cassius and Lord Chant up the enormous stairs, each one a full pace but quite low so that they formed a near effortless climb. Up close he could see that the brass doors were moulded with battle-scenes and roaring lions heads and that set into the rock above them was a plaque bearing the inscription;

"From a child and a madman shall you learn the truth..." he whispered to himself, translating the words in his mind.

Cassius glanced in his direction when he said it, apparently having hearing good enough to hear even his whisper over the din.

"Arafal, perhaps in return for Scribe's insight you could lend a little of your own with regrds to that inscription?" he said a moment later, pointing to the plaque.

The dark grey minotaur made a small barking laugh in the back of his throat, his horn-bells jingling furiously "Your guess is as good as mine, the lith-keep was designed by a mage called Lhazar Lord Autumn, he had prescient abilities so potent that the visions drove him half-mad in the end." he said with a shrug "At a guess I'd say it's probably something alegorical, like 'wisdom can be found in unexpected places' or something of the sort. Not very satisfying, but that's about as much as anyone could tell you."

"No, I think that was the right answer. Thank Lord Chant, Scribe." said Cassius, who then did something highly unexpected and winked at Claudius.

Fighting down a smile Claudius gave a curt "Thank you, sir."

"I've been searching for Lhazar's cards for some time now." continued Lord Chant, ignoring Claudius.

"His cards?"

"Yes, apparently he found a way to pass on his ability to forsee events by imbuing them into a set of cards, it is said that he tattooed the images onto his lenses with inks partially made from his own fluids and then flayed them alive to empower the cards with their magic. I'm not sure whether it's true, but the process seems sound in theory."

"Charming fellow, I'm sure." said Cassius, dryly.

Lord Chant snorted "Doubtful, he was a raving psychotic toward the end of his life by all accounts and had to be kept restrained by his apprentice, but nevertheless he was a great mage." he said, after a moments thought he added "You don't have to be good to be great, you understand."

The great doors the passed through were cunningly engraved or moulded with images, at first glance Claudius couldn't quite decipher what their significance was, the figures of minotaur warriors on the right door were familliar enough but the other figures against whom they were arrayed in battle on the left door seemed like nothing he had ever seen, weapon-bearing hands intermingled with shining claws, lashing tentacles and other less discernable things in a mass of grotesquery. At the head of this horde of monsters was a creature that was vaguely human but muscled and proportioned oddly, massively, a shining sword held high in its taloned hand, above the horde was the indistinct figure of a robed minotaur outlined in a shining sunburst, looking swiftly to the right door he saw that a similar sunburst pattern was present there too but the figure within it was too timeworn to make out.

A piece of history, perhaps? Maybe the monsters were meant to represent the Kurgani who once inhabited the land, the history books certainly painted them as bestial enough to flare an artists imagination in that direction. That was probably it, he decided, though as for all the other symbolism he couldn't even begin to guess at its meaning.

Once they were inside he realised what the shining pyramid at the top of the building was, at the center of the keep stood a massive square-cut pylon of black stone that had been polished to a shine. on the ground floor onl part of it could be seen as it disappeared up through the ceiling to the next level but a rough estimate of it's slope and dimensions confirmed that it probably ran the whole height of the building, right up to the top.

He almost shook his head in bewildered exasperation, in so short a period of time - was it much more than a week? Two, maybe? Certainly not much more - he had seen so many amazing things, learned so many incredible pieces of knowledge, and nobody in the Empire would ever know it. If he could have made it back to Dioclepia with even a fraction of the things he had learned about the minotaurs alone he could have written a book that would have propelled him into the circles of academic fame, perhaps even seen him in command of his own university eventually. There was a time when he would have given just about anything for an opportunity like that.

That time was about two weeks hence.

The flight of stairs that spiraled ever upwards through the levels of the keep seemed to go on forever, he certainly didn't envy the messengers who had to run up and down them all day, once was enough to damn-near leave him exhausted. Eventually though the two minotaurs stopped at a floor rather than passing it by. A semicircular area of pale peach-coloured marble tiles laid out in an eye-twisting geometric arrangement seemed to serve as a waiting room of sorts for whatever lay behind the wall that bisected the room, or two walls, rather, given that they were built around the column of the black obelisk that stood in the center. Beside the doors that led through to the other side was a human seated at a small desk - no, not small, just sized appropriately to a human, that just looked small after a while - slim and mousey-looking, rather like Claudius himself, with a pair of round lenses of glass sitting on his nose in some kind of wire frame.

"I am here to speak with governor Dante." announced Cassius as the man jumped to his feet at his entrance.

"Ah, of course, sir. Have you an appointment?" said the human, scurrying out to meet them.

"That will not be necessary, nor is this a matter that could be forseen far enough ahead to make an appointment for, he will see me now." continued Cassius, not even breaking his stride for the doors as he skillfully maneuvered the clerk out of the way with a firm hand on the shoulder.

"Sir, sir! Please, the governor has much work to see to at the moment and is not meeting with anyone without an appointment." called the man, quickening his pace to get ahead again.

"How fortunate for him that I shall not burden him with this trivial matter at a later date then." replied Cassius, casually, again not breaking step "He will see me, and he will see me now." he said, fixing the human clerk with a withering glower, his voice dripping cold menace in a way that Claudius had never heard before, it made the hairs on the back of his neck stand on end even though it wasn't directed at him.

"Ah...y-yes sir, if I could beg one moment of your time, please." stammered the small man, opening the doors a crack and stepping through.

"Goodness Cas, maybe there's some hope for you yet, the little thing looked positively terrified." said Lord Chant with an audible smirk.

"Really? I suppose so...my anger was more directed toward Dante for placing a human in a position where they might be easily subject to the ire of those less forgiving than me, it seems unusually reckless a thing for him to do." replied Cassius, offhandedly.

"I take it that's not the usual state of affairs?"

"No, usually Klest is on hand to deal with such matters."

Lord Chant made a small thoughtful rumble in the back of his throat just as the doors again opened and the human clerk stepped through and bowed to Cassius.

"Thank you for your patience, sir. The governor will see you now." he said, stepping aside.

They were just moving to the doors when the man raised a hesitant hand "One small matter, sir; your slave will have to remain outside, the governor only allows in humans of his own staff."

Cassius huffed softly and pinched the bridge of his muzzle in mild frustration. "And has the governor considered that the purpose of having a writing-slave is rather diminished if they are not present to actually write when one desires them to?" he said in a strained but patient tone.

"He has, sir. The order still stands and he is not willing to compromise on it." replied the human, apologetically.

"Well, it looks like I brought you here for nothing." said Cassius, looking down at Claudius with a weary look "Wait here, do not move from this room, if another minotaur gives you an order then..." Cassius triled off, looking pensively into the middle-distance.

"Should have brought a leash." muttered Lord Chant. Leash? That couldn't possibly mean what it sounded like, could it?

"Yes, but alas I did not, I was not expecting this," replied Cassius before finally turning back to Claudius "Just make it clear that it would displease your master if you were to be taken from here, understood?"

"Yes, Master."

"Really, this is most irritating." said Cassius aloud.

"Sorry, Master." said Claudius, though not sure why, seeing Cassius visibly annoyed just seemed to make some vague, undifferentiated sense of guilt weigh over him like a ballast-stone.

"You are not at fault." Cassius muttered, absently, taking the profferred scroll-tube from Claudius's hand before making for the doors, Lord Chant following him.

And then the doors closed behind him, and Claudius was alone. Alone. Alone in a castle filled with minotaurs...best to probably stay out of the way and try not to be noticed, he finally decided, and leant back against the partition wall with the strange obelisk at its center. He hadn't noticed it until all was relatively quiet around him but that featureless black stone seemed to be giving off a sound of sorts, a kind of shrill humm just on the edge of hearing.

He tried to ignore it but the more he tried to tune it out the louder and clearer it seemed to become, like a wasp buzzing around your head. Except...it wasn't really a sound, focusing on it he realised that he wasn't hearing it in his ears, the ring just seemed to bypass them alltogether and lodge itself straight into the mind. Rather like Lord Chant's signature, now he thought about it.

"Oh, hell." he muttered as his curiosity got the better of him and he went to investigate the stone a little closer.

Were those symbols there before?

~~*~~

Governor Dante liked to effect an imposing demeanor, often to the point of being impolitic, that even his office where he met with those who had perfectly reasonable buisness was decked out like a war-room was proof enough of this. The map of the Kurga region laid out on a table was a nice touch, as were the weapons bedecking the walls, of the typical over-decorated Manticore style. It had long amused Cassius how much the Manticore, as an especially martial and fearsome clan, adored the engraved blades and bejewelled hilts that Lycaili warriors would avoid like the plague, such things were generally the sign of something not suited to actual combat.

'Trying a little too hard, Dante.' he thought with an inward smirk.

The governor himself sat behind his rather ostentatiously large desk and set his pen down in its inkwell as they entered. A crystal decanter and a pile of papers were the desks primary ornamentation. Dressed, as always, in the red and black overcoat of a Manticore soldier, the great black bull cut an impressive figure, not diminished in the slightest by the fact that he was missing half his left horn, the stump covered by a plate of beaten gold. Of course he could have had it magically restored, someone in his position would easily be wealthy enough, but the Manticore liked their magic the same way they liked their humans; quietly hard at work, somewhere away from their immediate presence where they didn't have to see it.

"Ah, governor, so glad I caught you." said Cassius, effecting a tone of utter sincerity.

"Likewise." growled Dante after clearing his throat, not bothering to even put up the same pretense.

'No matter, just keep being you usual belligerent self, that's all the help I need to get to the bottom of all this.'

"In any case, I'm here to submit my testimonial on the events surrounding the previous night, as vouchsafed by Lord Chant, here." said Cassius, laying the ivory tube on the desk. Dante obligingly snatched it up and unscrewed the cap, shaking the contents out with a single flicking motion and unrolling it.

"Hah, more fanciful tales of mysterious creatures that vanish like dew come morning, I suppose?" he snorted, scanning the scroll and finding just that.

Cassius began focusing on controlling his emotions, trying to suppress the brief pang of triumph Dante's reaction had given him, an Air-mage as powerful as Arafal could easily sense any degree of emotional turmoil and that might encourage him to look a little closer. And if he did that he might realise Cassius was manipulating the situation, and worse; manipulating it for the purposes of manipulating him. That could spell disaster, and cost him an ally to boot, but if he could find out what the mage was hiding and salvage their tenuous friendship on top of that then it was a risk worth taking.

"All true, I assure you, I am willing to personally confirm the whole account." said Cassius, mildly.

"There's not enough here to bother confirming, how am I supposed to accept this? You barely give even the meanest account of these vanishing assailants of yours, how am I supposed to know that this isn't some fabrication when you cannot even produce a single body? And what happened to the creature that was supposedly captured?"

Now's the time. "Ah, well, Lord Chant here took custody of it, of course, there is no way I could have adequately kept it contained." Cassius said, innocently.

Dante looked up from the scroll and turned his attention to Arafal "This true, Chant?" he barked in a way that would have been a duelling-offence in any other Clan.

"Aye, it's true, I took the villain." said Arafal in an even tone, a nod of his head causing a minor commotion among his horn-bells.

"And? What did you discover?" pressed Dante.

"That's my business and nobody else's." replied Arafal, resolutely. Briefly, Cassius faltered, if Arafal was determined not to give up what he knew, what he really knew, then the stubborn old goat wasn't going to open up if Dante got too heavy-handed, it was a calculated risk trying to use him as a proxy, a fulcrum by which the truth could be pried out of Arafal, and if that calculation went awry now it would be difficult to rescue the situation.

"I have a right to know, this all occured in my city."

"Wrong, you have no right to anything from me when I'm on the hunt. By law as old our clan I can keep as much or as little of my investigation to myself as I like, until it is over I owe counsel or report to nobody." said Arafal with a snort, folding his arms defensively.

An almighty bang that sounded through he room as Dante's fist collided with the surface of his desk momentarily broke Arafal's composure, the suprise of it making even him start in shock.

"Damn the laws, I have a right because my nephew was killed by those creatures, and if you know something about them that you would not tell me and yet bandy freely with a foreign clansman-" at this he pointed an accusing finger in Cassius's direction "then either share it with me or we two can take a short walk outside where I can draw a circle."

'Unexpected, but fortuitous.' Thought Cassius, relieved that he had been right in his choice of tool with which to lever the information he wanted from Arafal's hands. He may not be a mage but he knew Arafal's mind well enough, Dante had just squarely hit both his weak points; family and honour. From now on, the situation was fertile ground within which he could plant his seeds.

"Perhaps...just a little of what you have learned?" he suggested, taking note of the slightly faltering expression on the greying bulls formerly resolute face "Surely there must be some things that could assuage the governors fears without risking the safety of your investigation."

Conflicting emotions bubbled just below the surface of Arafal's features, though a skilled mind-mage his isolated existance had left him with little reason to learn how to hide his emotions, a fact that Cassius found fortuitous. After a few moments of strained silence one side seemed to win out and the old mage sighed exasperatedly.

"Very well," he said with an air of surrender "but I don't like this, not one bit, you shouldn't have brought me here, Cassius. If I had known I would face an inquisition I would never have come."

'Cassius', not the usual affectionate abbreviation 'Cas', he used the full name. Even if the deception wasn't recognised then he still held some small resentment for having been placed in such an uncomfortable situation, whether he believed it to be unintentional or not. As best as could be hoped, perhaps, and not beyond salvage. He did his best to look apologetic, it wasn't hard, he didn't like using manipulation, it felt far too close to lying.

"In any case, If I'm going to be here any longer then I'm damn well sitting down, after all those infernal stairs my back feels like knotwood." grumbled Arafal, pulling out one of the padded chairs set before Dante's desk and settling himself down in it, swearing softly under his breath. He fished inside his robe and withdrew a gold-chased bronze smoking pipe and a small pouch from which he filled the pipe with shredded leaves.

With a look of growing impatience Dante sat motionless besides for the tapping of his fingers "Well? Are you going to speak or not?" he growled after a minute.

"Patience, I've given you enough!" snapped Arafal and held out his pipe, a tiny mote of flame lept from the tip of his index finger and landed in the bowl. "What I have been able to determine is this," he said, pausing to take a puff of the spicy smoke "the creatures, for want of a better word, were not natural. That is to say they were not deposited or transmuted by the creators, someone made them."

"This can be done? By whom? A witch?" said Dante, leaning forward.

Arafal shrugged and took a deeper puff "It seems likely, physical transformation on such a scale is certainly something only a mage could do, and something only a witch would do. It would have to be a mage with strong affinities, at least one of them primary, for both Earth and Water, but..."

Arafal shook his head "No, it's impossible, the level of control required to perform such a large-scale transformation without immediately killing the subject? Impossible. Only the creators could do such a thing. I know of no way it could be done."

Something in the tone of Arafal's voice caught Cassius's attention, it seemed too hasty, it rang with suppressed nervousness, a slight quaver that he had so rarely heard. Was Arafal...lying? A quick glance at Dante confirmed that if he was then the governor hadn't picked up on it, unsuprising, Cassius had been trained to be sensitive to such things, others might not pick up on them.

Dante sighed and sat back in his chair, one hand absently rubbing at the gold horn-cap. "So I am left right back where I began, knowing nothing, can you at least tell me what these creatures are transmuted from?" he said, semi-sarcastically.

"Oh yes," said Arafal, blowing a stream of smoke "the base lifeform was quite clearly human, apparently whosoever made them decided to take a leaf out of the creators own book, ingenious really."

True, his tone had changed entirely from the hasty circumlocations of the liar to one of vague awe, as one might when discussing the life of an admired hero.

The quiet was broken by a pained exclamation from Dante "Gah! It's this place, it's this damned city!" he cried, throwing his hads up "I've been having reports of humans behaving strangely for months, now they're turning into monsters, what next!?"

"Strangely, how?" interjected Arafal.

"Oh, something about talking in their sleep or other such nonsense, I can't remember it exactly, with all the damnable things that go on in this city how am I supposed to pay attention to such things? Honestly I'm not suprised this place turns the humans crazy after a while, it's certainly doing it to me, you know we have more cases of murder, suicide and arson in this city than in the rest of Manticore territory combined? Damn place is cursed, we should never have come to Kurga." grumbled Dante, pouring a measure of amber liquor from the decanter into a tumbler and downing it with a single motion. "It's something about the light, I always thought, it's cold...lifeless."

"Well, in any case, are you sat-" began Cassius before he felt a full-body rumble pass over him, a wave of intangible force, like when a powerful Tempus master was bending time nearby, sending ripples through reality like a stone hurled into a lake.

"What? Why did you stop?"

"Didn't you feel that?" he said, still searching for the source of it.

"Feel what? Make sense, man!" snapped Dante.

Cassius ignored his tone, the ripples were getting more frequent, stronger. "Governor, do you have any bodyguards Lurking nearby?" he said, homing in on the source.

"I need no guards, what are you talking about, what are you looking at?"

"No, I feel it too." said Arafal, standing up suddenly "A Tempus reaction, very faint."

"Faint? It feels like master-strength to me." said Cassius.

"Well, I never was very good at Tempus, maybe you are just more attuned." replied the mage.

"Then why can't I feel a damn thing?" said Dante, more intrigued than infuriated, a change that was nearly more suprising than the Tempus-ripple.

At last Cassius isolated the source of the emination "I think...it's coming from the obelisk." he said.

"Don't be ridiculous, how could it-?" began Dante before Arafal interjected.

"It could, I know of magic that can do such things, especially near fixed enchanted objects." he said.

Cassius had almost forgotten about them, there was something about the Tempus-wake given off by the obelisk that was familliar somehow. Curious, he extended a hand and touched the mirror-smooth, black surface of the rock.

And then time snapped.