Flower of Avernus

Part One: Summer

A/N: Been a while since I posted anything here. I doubt this will be good to anyone but I wanted to put it somewhere, and I wasn't going to put it up on tumblr. Hope you all like it.

Edit 25/9/15: Fixed up a plot error since it was bugging me. There's more timeline fuckery in LoK than there is in Homestuck sometimes I swear -_-;

Lord Grigori of Avernus was a generally well-liked man, wealthy and of a good heart and never one to start a confrontation. His life revolved around three things: Avernus, her people, and his two children, his son Mikail and daughter Elspeth. His wife, the Lady Elena, had died during a harsh winter when Elspeth was small, taken by illness, and Grigori swore to her on her deathbed that he would make sure the children lived long, prosperous lives for as long as he was still on this earth.

His son, Mikail, was a strong and noble young man, raised into his role as the inheritor of his father's position with combat training and an extensive education. He had grown up to be quite handsome, and Grigori was content in knowing his son would take care of Avernus once he was gone.

Elspeth was a kind-hearted girl, eight years her brother's junior, and was as renowned for her beauty and generosity as she was for her cleverness and love of horses. She was well educated, like her brother, and learned to manage the family's wealth so that it could be distributed where needed. She owned a wild-eyed mare who she loved dearly, and it was not uncommon to see her riding it through the surrounding woods near her father's home. Most said her soul was as wild as her horse's, and those who spotted her with her long, auburn hair trailing out behind her in the wind would attest that she would laugh with childish glee as the horse galloped, pranced and leapt through the forest.

The Lord of Avernus was a supporter of the Circle of Nine and the Sarafan Order. He had made friends within the Circle, and so here is where our story begins. Lord Grigori was not without his enemies, and when they threatened his family with destruction, Grigori sent his children away for their own safety. Mikail would ride to Willendorf to enlist the help of the King, who was an old friend of Grigori's, while Elspeth was to be sent to the Sarafan stronghold to be protected by the Circle. What would come to pass would be among the most tragic tales in Nosgoth's history.

The late-summer night air bit into the skin of the group as their horses carried them through the forest. They had left Nachtholm under cover of darkness in order to be assured of their safety, but tension was high among the small group as their horses' hooves drummed a dull beat in the loamy soil. Lord Mikail's stone-grey eyes scanned the road ahead for bandits and gypsies, his soldiers just as on edge as he was. Beside him, concealed by a heavy cloak, his little sister was silent, her eyes on the road ahead, but glazed over in deep thought.

"Do your thoughts remain with Father, little sister?" He asked, bringing her out of her reprieve. Elspeth looked at him from under her hood for a moment, but she turned away and hung her head. "I know, Elspeth. I know you didn't want to leave, but Father would be devastated if you came to harm, our people just as much."

Elspeth said nothing. It worried Mikail to see his sister so upset since when they had left the city- she hadn't said a word. He hadn't seen her so reserved since when their mother died. Mikail knew his sister loved Avernus and her people, she wept as the children watched them leave the city days ago and she still looked so heartbroken. Mikail prayed that Elspeth would find happiness again in good

time, and that Avernus would have her flower again. "Courage, Elspeth," Mikail told her. "For Father. For Avernus. Their hopes are with us now."

They rode on through the night through Nachtholm until they reached the Sarafan fortress. A soldier poked his head out over a turret and called out to the group to halt as some nearby archers took aim. Mikail saw his sister cower as her horse snorted and reared its head impatiently, and placed a hand on her shoulder to calm her before motioning to his men to hold fast.

"Who approaches?" Called the soldier. "What business have you here?"

Mikail removed his hood and dismounted. "I am Lord Mikail of Avernus," He called back, his hand resting on the pommel of his sword. "I am here to deliver my sister, the Lady Elspeth, to sanctuary here among the Sarafan. Word was sent to the Circle some time ago- surely you would have been alerted to our arrival some time before?"

The soldier was soon joined by another, a Paladin, and he spoke with the soldier before disappearing. The drawbridge was lowered and the portcullis raised, and the group made their way into the fortress. Waiting for them in the courtyard were Mobius, Guardian of the Pillar of Time, Mortanius, Guardian of the Pillar of Death, and Malek, Guardian of the Pillar of Conflict and protector of the Circle of Nine- joined by six Sarafan knights. Mikail helped his sister dismount before she removed her hood to reveal her pretty face, framed by flowing dark brown hair and beset with jewel green eyes. While Mikail was tall and rough-set in his features, his little sister was petite and softer to the point where some said she looked almost angelic, dressed in red velvet and white silks with elaborate gold embroidery around the edges of her skirts and a golden brooch, engraved with some elaborate design and decorated with ruby cabochons, pinned to her collar. The Guardians greeted them and Mobius expressed their sympathies for their situation to Mikail, and Elspeth merely stood in polite silence beside him while she paid a few short glances to one of the Sarafan knights, one dressed in gold-trimmed crimson armour with images of lions on the breastplate and paldrons in the shape of angels' wings. Mikail and his soldiers could go no further, so the siblings had no choice but to say goodbye. Mikail embraced his sister and sighed as he felt her shudder in his arms. "Courage, sister," He told her. "Keep me in your prayers." Elspeth clung to him tightly and shook her head. "I'll return to you soon. It won't be for too long. I promise. Now let me go, there's a good girl." His sister reluctantly released him from her hold, eyes swimming in tears, and soon Mikail was mounted on his horse and riding off into the woods, not looking back once.

And so begins the tragic tale of the Lady Elspeth, for at this moment, she felt more alone than she ever had before. She was escorted to her room by a Sister of Saint Celestine, and she burst into tears the second the door was closed behind her. Elspeth was afraid and friendless, far from home and surrounded by soldiers who sang war-hymns that were so frightening. Soon, she had cried herself to exhaustion and simply lay there in the dark until she fell asleep.

During the days that were to come, Elspeth stayed out of the sight of most of the Sarafan order and kept to her chambers. She sometimes wandered the courtyards and chapter house with a book in her hands and hardly spoke with anyone else unless they spoke to her first, and even then her answers were never that long. Her horse was impatient as ever when its rider approached, tossing its head and rearing up anxiously with the burning desire to run free, and it often bit the hands of unfortunate Sarafan soldiers foolish enough to try and touch it. It was because of this, after High Inquisitor Turel was repeatedly bitten by the anxious beast, that he would have killed the mare had the Lady not stepped in.

Thrashing against her bonds in the summer heat, the wild-eyed mare whinnied desperately and in such a manner that the other horses in the stables cried out in a fearful chorus. The soldiers, headed by Inquisitor Turel, held their swords and halberds at the ready, some doubting that this was the answer to their problems- this was the Lady Elspeth's best horse, and wild as it may be, to kill it was not right without first speaking to the Lady for permission. However, before Turel could give the order, a cry broke through the chaos and the Lady Elspeth had pushed past the soldiers and had embraced her fearful steed.

"Get away from that thing, my Lady," Turel snapped at her. "It is a danger to all around it!"

"How dare you say such awful things!" Elspeth glared at him, scowling darkly. "Have you ever thought that perhaps she's just bored? Or that she's scared since she is, just as I am, so far from all she knows? How cowardly, that you would pick on a poor, defenseless creature, and my best horse! And why?! Because she bit you?! How unbecoming of a High Inqusitor." Her scowl was turned on the soldiers, who hesitantly sheathed their swords. They would not dare raise their blades against a noblewoman- it was cowardly, they were taught, to attack a defenseless opponent. Even an unarmed vampire would fight back if threatened.

However, Inquisitor Turel was not ready to stand down. "You would dare question me?!" He roared. "You?! A mere woman?!"

"I would," Elspeth told him sternly. "And if it is in the defense of those who cannot defend themselves, then I would do so again and again. Gypsy is my horse, Lord Turel. Keep to hunting vampires; I will deal with her behaviour myself."

Some distance away were two other Sarafan Inquisitors who had noticed the commotion. They saw that Turel was fuming, his men uneasy as Elspeth began to lead her horse back to the stables, and looked to each other with brows raised. Turel was quick to anger, and they could see it was taking almost all of his patience to stay his hand.

"Poor Brother," Snickered one, a slightly lean fellow with red hair and freckles dusted across his thin face.

"It's his own fault, Zephon," Said the other, a raven-haired man with keen, golden-brown eyes. "Her Ladyship is fond of horses- she owns the horsemasters and blacksmiths of Avernus, after all." He chuckled. "And not that bad to look at, either."

"Your next conquest, then?" Zephon raised a brow at this. "Seems to be in poor taste, Raziel. The Lady Elspeth is known for her purity, and her family is in turmoil- I'm sure it would not be wise to make such advances."

"Then perhaps a companion is what she needs." Raziel shrugged. "I'm sure Her Grace would appreciate the sentiment."

Zephon sighed. "If you're so sure, then I will not stop you."

"Worry not, my friend." Raziel smirked and clapped a hand on his comrade's shoulder. "What woman has been able to resist me yet?"

Zephon watched Raziel walk away through the courtyards towards the stables and shook his head. For all his dedication to the Sarafan Brotherhood and their cause, Raziel was more vain than most, and could be deceptively charming when it came to gaining the favour of noblewomen from all corners of Nosgoth, though he doubted he would so easily charm the Lady of Avernus. Lord Grigori was not known to raise fools, as his children's strategic minds would attest. Though delicate and dainty in appearance, Lady Elspeth knew where to invest her assets and interest and where it was not needed. Whatever the outcome, it would certainly be interesting.

Raziel would find Elspeth at the stables, speaking in soft tones to the wild-eyed mare and trying to calm her. "Yes, he's a rotten one, isn't he, Gypsy?" She told the horse as she stroked its soft cheek. "It's not your fault, girl. Don't you worry, those awful Sarafan won't hurt you."

Of course, it was to be too simple. The Lady of Avernus loved her horse, and to lose it was to ask for her favour to be revoked- the best Blacksmiths of the Order came from Avernus. "A bit strong- worded, wouldn't you say?" Raziel put on his best smile once he'd caught the Lady Elspeth's attention. "Inquisitor Turel is a man of little patience, but he is only doing what duty expects of him."

"To slaughter an innocent horse?" Scoffed Elspeth. "Forgive me, ser, but I do not think that constitutes as 'duty'."

Ah, progress. "True. It would be shameful to kill such a noble creature. She is quite the beauty, though it pales in comparison to the Flower of Avernus." Raziel dared take a step closer towards the Lady, paying a respectful nod to the mare who eyed him suspiciously. "Forgive me, wherever are my manners today? I am Inquisitor Raziel." Then, bowing and taking Lady Elspeth's hand, "At your service, your Grace." He raised her knuckles to his lips, paying mind to the intricate, glittering gold signet ring on her little finger.

Elspeth smiled politely, as was expected of a Lady, but she eyed him just as suspiciously as her mare was. "A pleasure, Lord Raziel," She said, giving a curtsy in return. She remembered seeing this man on the night she was brought to the stronghold, and would admit he was handsome, but the name was familiar. "Tell me, are you the same Raziel who has charmed every noblewoman in Nosgoth?"

"My reputation precedes me, then?"

"It does." Elspeth crossed her arms. "And if you've come to add me to that long list, you're more than welcome to try." Perhaps it was still her anger from earlier that had made her so bold after she'd been quiet for so long, but Elspeth had heard of this man and was keen to see if he was fool enough to attempt to charm her. He seemed sure enough of himself to do so.

"We shall see." Raziel offered his arm, still wearing that charming smile of his. "Walk with me a while, my Lady. Perhaps my companionship will lighten the burden you bear."

Elspeth fought the urge to cock her brow questioningly, but she acquiesced none the less. Perhaps a companion would be helpful, if only temporarily.

The long walk they took around the Sarafan stronghold was filled with conversation, and Elspeth found herself explaining the story as she understood it- her father had unknowingly gained some enemies by refusing a cult to practice their blasphemous faith in the holy city of Avernus, and then casting them out after a man confessed to handing his firstborn son over to these cultists as a sacrifice. The boy was found dead before he could be saved, and the cultists were beheaded for their

treason. Afterwards, there were threats made to Lord Grigori's family and he had no choice but to send his children away.

"It's not even an inconvenience at best- it's a nightmare." She sighed. "I fear for Avernus. The city has a bright future ahead of it, but I fear it will be darkened by whatever curse these cultists have brought upon it."

Raziel scowled. "The heathen dogs!" He spat.

"I was assured by Lord Mobius that something would be done," Elspeth continued, caring little for her companion's indignant outburst. "I hope this will end quickly. There is so much that needs to be done and this whole disaster has put everything on hold."

The conversation went to the Lady Elspeth's plans for her city, how she hoped to speak with an architect to do some restoration work to the cathedral, her goal of making the marketplace the epicentre of commerce throughout all of Nosgoth with a few well-placed trade agreements- oh, she had big plans indeed, and Raziel was quite impressed.

"I'm sure the people of your fair city sleep well knowing they are in capable hands such as yours, my Lady."

The compliment was lost on her. "They would rest better were this vile curse lifted from them." Elspeth touched her fingertips to the brooch that rested at her throat. "I can only wait and hope that my brother will find help in Willendorf. Surely the King will send his men to defend us from these men and their blasphemous God."

The conversation soon ended when the two came to a stop near Lady Elspeth's quarters, and she bade goodbye to her companion before slipping into her room and shutting the door behind her.

Raziel was smirking to himself as he began to walk back out to the stables. With luck, he supposed, winning over the Lady Elspeth would not be such a chore, after all. All it took were a few words to get her to open up- with time, perhaps she would become more inclined to be a little friendlier towards him.

"I do not see any other reason why the cult of Hash'ak'gik would target you, my Lady." Mortanius' tone was absolute, though Elspeth was sure she could hear a slight hesitation in his voice. "With your family out of the way, they would instate their own political figure, perhaps a sympathiser, and take control."

Elspeth furrowed her brow. "You think this sympathiser, if there is one, is one among my Father's court?"

"Quite possibly," Spoke Mobius. "Who better than one close to the Lord of Avernus and his family to issue their threats and spread dissension among his subjects?" The time streamer gave her a grim look. "They may very well mean to destroy all he holds dear for the sake of whatever grudge they hold with him."

"Inconceivable!" Elspeth cried. "My father is a good man, he is loved by our people- who in God's name would wish to see him dead?"

"Who, indeed?" Mobius continued. "We must not rule it out as a possibility. Your father's good reputation does not mean that he is not without his enemies. I do apologise, my Lady. The Sarafan will work quickly to rid Avernus of this blight upon its happiness, you can be quite sure of that."

Elspeth bade her farewells to the two Guardians and left, her mind buzzing with questions. Who on Earth would want to harm her father? Who could be so cruel as to bring this unhappiness upon their family in the name of such heresy? It left a rather disquieting knot in her gut as she wandered out to the stables. It had been a month now since she had arrived, and the investigation was moving far too slow for her liking. But what else could she do?

"Ah, your grace! I was hoping to see you today."

Elspeth's head snapped up as the familiar voice broke through her gloomy thoughts. Outside the stables stood Raziel, a squire helping him to tack up his horse, a giant of a creature whose pelt was as black as its rider's hair. Another squire was assisting Inquisitor Rahab, a man who was known for being of very little words, save for when it mattered. Raziel approached Elspeth with that same cocky smirk on his face.

Elspeth attempted to put on her best smile. For the past month, she had often walked with the Inquisitor and had come to trust him enough to speak with him on a regular basis. "Lord Raziel. You surprised me."

Raziel bowed, the gold trim of his armour gleaming in the sunlight. "My apologies, my Lady. It was not my intention to startle you. I was about to send my squire for you- I have something to ask."

"Yes?"

"Rahab and I were worried about the state of your horse. She has been in that stable too long." Elspeth cocked her head questioningly, but allowed him to continue. "Perhaps, a bit of fresh air is what she needs- would you like to ride with us?"

That certainly caught Elspeth's attention. The chance to ride again was too great a temptation to resist. She and Gypsy had been holed up for months now in the fortress- to finally be able to ride, to feel as if she were flying, was a freedom that tingled at the tip of her tongue and made her heart beat faster in anticipation. How could she possibly say no?

To be back in the saddle was invigorating, but oh how Raziel and Rahab had underestimated them both. The moment they had left the fortress and entered the woodlands nearby, there was nothing that could hold them back, and Gypsy nickered impatiently. Elspeth could feel her mount's lust to run, to fly, and though she shared in that lust with great fervor, she wanted to bide her time if only to humour her companions. They rode for some time until they came to the edge of the surrounding forest, and before her companions' horses could set a hoof into the woodlands, Gypsy reared up with an impatient whinny, as if by her rider's silent command, and took off into the woods, Elspeth's laughter trailing behind them. Dumbfounded for a moment, Raziel and Rahab hesitated before they spurred their horses after them.

They raced through the woods, but no matter how they tried, neither of the Sarafan Inquisitors could keep up with Elspeth. Stubborn as ever, Raziel spurred his horse onwards, but Gypsy would accept no competition and sped up, the wild eyed mare tossing her head with a mocking neigh that met well with her rider's laughter. This only encouraged her companions to ride faster, and yet they still could not catch up. It was only when they came to a clearing that Gypsy finally slowed, rearing

up with a triumphant whinny. Rahab and Raziel arrived maybe moments later, and Raziel was about to scorn her, when he noticed how the afternoon sun lit up her long hair like a halo as she laughed breathlessly, drunk on the freedom bubbling within from finally being able to ride again- he could not bring himself to do so, his heart almost skipping a beat at the sight.

There would be more rides and more walks together after that. It kept Gypsy satisfied so she wouldn't bite Turel again, and it meant that Raziel remained in Elspeth's favour. She had become accustomed to her companion's arrogance- in fact, she was beginning to find it endearing in a way, if not enough to be tolerant of his pride and occasional bouts of righteous indignation.

Her meetings with Mortanius and Moebius were settling into routine, but she was starting to wonder why the Necromancer appeared to be so hesitant and somewhat remorseful when they spoke. Most of the talking was left to Mobius, giving Elspeth the idea that perhaps there was something the two Guardians were not telling her. She had meant to bring it up at some point or another, but she never really remembered to, thinking that it was her own worries that was causing her to think that the Guardians would commit treachery against her. The Circle was well-revered by every soul in Nosgoth as protectors of the land. Even if a few were of a questionable nature, they were never first to be suspected without good reason- it was considered treason otherwise- and even if Elspeth thought it rather irresponsible that they were exempt in such a way, she had no choice but to hold her tongue.

However, as the season came to an end, her thoughts were sharply turned from her suspicion of the Circle. For it was upon the last night of Summer that the news came from Avernus- Lord Grigori was dead.