A/N/: Yeah, I had real fun writing this chapter. Heheheh. Lots of these ideas came to me v. v. randomly, especially with the old man and Lorlen spying on the conversation…Just randomly popped into my head. Well, enjoy.
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Lorlen was in the hallway. His heart pounded, he could hear them, they were coming for him, coming…
Thump. Thump. Their deformed, rotted limbs carried them with uneasy, sickening gaits, hands helping to drag them. Their repugnant smell choked in his throat, and he backed away down the corridor, reaching backwards to grasp at the doorframe of the next room.
Nails scrabbled at the door only a few seconds after he pushed it closed, hands that had half fallen apart searching desperately for a way in. "We want you," they called, voices dead and hollow. "Come to us, Lorlen. Sink into our embrace…"
A hand clamped down on his shoulder. Spinning wildly, he shrieked and pulled backwards. The same rotting corpse as before was standing behind him. "We're here now…" it whispered, a sing song softness masking the horrific deadness of the voice.
"Who are you?" Lorlen screeched.
"We are the dead." The corpse said softly. "You let us die."
"I don't even know you!" Lorlen howled, shrinking away towards the opposite wall.
"You will."
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Lorlen woke choking on a scream, sweating, constricting sheets wrapped around him. He lay in the dark panting, heart pounding, pounding. What was that dream? he thought. Hysterical tears threatened to spill, and he let them pour down over his cheeks, sobbing into the pillow. I was so scared. So scared.
It was just a dream, just a dream, he thought, trying to soothe himself. He rolled back and forth, and fell back into an uneasy sleep.
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Lorlen woke in the morning and went to the baths. Relaxing in the warm water, he considered the strange, frightening dream. He would rather forget it, let it go. But something niggled at the back of his mind; a lesson he had had back in the University, about the importance of managing stress. "Stress makes it more likely that illness will be able to take hold on the body," the teacher had said. "It can take many forms; flu, colds, headaches, feeling sick, bad dreams…"
Bad dreams, Lorlen thought. Stress…Maybe I should talk to Lady Vinara…But what would she do? She couldn't decrease his workload. She would only give him some stern advice to get more rest and work a little less. He could probably get a sleeping drug from another Healer, but he knew the dangers of becoming addicted to such things. Better to simply work out how to handle it on his own.
An hour later he rose from the bath and returned from the residence. His servant served him breakfast in his private dining room, and he read some letters which had been received today. Among them a letter from the palace read:
Dear High Lord,
Lord and Lady Delvon have filed a complaint about the Guild's handling of the case of their son. As per procedure, the Court is obligated to start an inquiry into this matter.
Your presence will be required on the following date, along with the presence of the Administrator and two of the Higher Magicians who you deem to be most related to this case.
Your presence may be called for again on any other date, and other obligations may have to be interrupted.
Yours sincerely,
Adlen of House Markin, Advisor to the King.
Lorlen sighed heavily. Now not only he had to attend, but Osen and two other Higher Magicians as well?
He swept out of the Residence and towards the University. Reaching the high steps, he ascended and made his way over to Osen's door. He knocked and the door opened. Osen looked up from his work and gave him a bright smile. "Good morning."
"Is it?" Lorlen asked bitterly. "I've received this." He tossed the letter onto Osen's desk. He reached forward, face falling into a frown as he read it.
"They've already started this?" he asked.
"Yes," Lorlen sighed. "It seems you will have to attend as well. I came seeking your view on who else should be present."
Osen nodded. "Lady Vinara is obvious, of course. She's responsible for his care and wellbeing. As to another Higher Magician…" Osen thought. "I suppose we need someone to speak on Sonea's behalf."
Lorlen groaned inwardly. "Lord Rothen, then."
"If he agrees," Osen said quietly. Lorlen rubbed his face with both hands. Behind them, he peeked out and noticed Osen giving him a searching, worried look. "Are you alright, Lorlen?" Osen asked quietly.
"Fine," he replied. "Sleepless night. Strange dreams."
"Oh," Osen nodded. Lorlen turned to leave. "Will you find time to tell them, or should I?" Osen asked.
Lorlen half turned back, considering. "I'll find time, I'm sure. And I would like to see how Lord Rothen is getting on." Lorlen nodded decisively, and left the room.
He left the University and started towards the Magician's Quarters. Out of respect for his loss, Rothen was being given some days in the week off for the first few months. This would also help him manage his duties as Head of Alchemic Studies. Lorlen reached his door within a few minutes, and knocked.
The door opened to Rothen's servant. The woman looked surprised to see Lorlen at the door, and hesitated a moment before saying, "Good morning, High Lord." He nodded to her, and she stood aside to let him in. Glancing around, Lorlen noted that no one was present in the guestroom. The servant bustled past him and arranged the chairs, indicting in which one he should sit. He took his place and she bowed before saying, "Lord Rothen is in his room, my lord. I shall just fetch him. I assume it is with him you wish to speak?"
"Yes." She nodded, and hurried off through a side door, closing it tight behind her. Lorlen looked around slowly. Rothen's rooms were much the same as the last time he had entered them; plain, but homely.
Another side door opened quietly to Lorlen's left. He looked towards it, and observed Rothen's son, Dorrien, appearing from behind it. Dorrien started rather alarmingly when he noticed Lorlen, and he inclined his head hurriedly. "Good morning, High Lord."
"Good morning," Lorlen answered quietly.
Dorrien stood in silence for a minute, obviously casting about for what to say. "I…I assume you are here to talk to Father?" Lorlen nodded. "Oh, yes, of course. Uhmm." Lorlen hid a grimace at Dorrien's awkwardness. If I were the Administrator, he would not feel so uncomfortable. A disturbing thought popped into Lorlen's head. What if I remind him of Akkarin? Lorlen didn't know whether he reminded people of his friend. He only had two examples on which to base his knowledge of appropriate attitude and behaviour, and more of his contact had been with Akkarin's example. He also didn't know whether he would like or dislike reminding people of him.
His thoughts were interrupted by the return of the servant, and behind her, Lord Rothen. Rothen looked tired and haggard; weighed down by grief. Lorlen saw the instant change in his son's face, and felt his heart go out to both of them. Rothen sat down across from him and Lorlen noticed with shock how much older the man looked.
"High Lord," Rothen smiled. "It's nice to see you again. Are you well?"
"Yes, thank you."
"Good." Rothen sighed. "So, what can I help you with?"
Lorlen breathed in deeply. "You have heard of Akkarin's current…condition?" he asked softly.
An unidentifiable emotion flitted across Rothen's face. He nodded. "Yes, I have."
"His family have contacted me with a compliant over how we have dealt with the situation. Since I told them I could not help them, they have taken it to the Court inquiry." Rothen looked confused. He obviously didn't see how this involved him. Lorlen pressed on. "I have been asked to attend, as has the Administrator, and two other Higher Magicians whom we believe to be most related to this case." Rothen's face hardened slightly, and Lorlen had to resist the temptation to wince. "Lady Vinara is the obvious choice in the case of his health, but the family have also accused us of failing to foresee the danger of the relationship that brought on his current state," Rothen's face spasmed with pain faintly at the mention of the relationship. "The fact that it was completely out of our control seems to be of no consequence to the family," Lorlen added bitterly.
Beside Rothen, Dorrien was frowning. "You're asking him to come to Court and speak about Sonea? Now?" Dorrien asked quietly, anger hidden barely in the tight tone of his voice. Lorlen decided to let it slide. After all, he was being pretty callous. He nodded. Dorrien face drew tight with anger, and he opened his mouth to speak, but Rothen cut him off with a look.
"If you wish me to speak in Sonea's defence," he said slowly, "then I would be honoured to accept."
"Thank you. That is what we seek." Rothen nodded. Dorrien's face was still taunt with suppressed anger, but he held his tongue. Lorlen rose from his seat gracefully. "Thank you for listening to me, Lord Rothen. I am glad you have accepted; you will be the one most well positioned to speak on this matter. I will have Osen send you the date and some more details. Good day." He strode out of the room, smiling lightly at Rothen's servant as she held the door open for him. When it closed, Lorlen held still a minute and caught the faint sounds of Dorrien's angry voice. Checking that no one was around, he pressed his ear to the door.
"It's idiotic, Father!" Dorrien said loudly. "Why should you have to speak in defence of Akkarin? He's-"
"I'm not speaking in defence of Akkarin, Dorrien, I am making sure to keep Sonea's name clear, and helping the Guild defend itself."
"They still have no right to-"
"They have every right, Dorrien, to do whatever-"
"You're blinded by faith to them, Father! You can't let them push you around!"
"You sound like you don't trust the Guild!"
"Father…" Dorrien trailed off. "Father, it's just something about this case. Why are you so important to it, anyway?"
"Who else is more involved?" Rothen asked tiredly. "I was there from the beginning of it all. I should know."
"I still don't think it's a good idea. It's not as if you were even asked nicely."
"What do you mean, Dorrien?" Rothen asked in a dangerous tone.
"There's something about him." Dorrien said quietly.
"Whom?" Rothen asked.
There was a silence. "The High Lord?" Rothen asked. Lorlen's breath quickened.
"Yes," Dorrien agreed. "Since he became the High Lord, I mean. Don't you think he changed?"
Rothen sighed. "Dorrien, being the High Lord is different to being the Administrator. If you were here more, you would understand. A different demeanour is needed for each job. Lorlen has simply switched his outward personality from a deeply involved and, well, flustered personality, to a more restrained and calm outward appearance."
"And you think that's a good thing?"
"Him being less flustered certainly seems a good thing."
"More like a block of ice." Lorlen's heart constricted.
"Dorrien, don't say that. It must be hard for him."
Dorrien huffed, and was about to speak again, but Lorlen heard footsteps coming down the corridor, so he straightened quickly and walked away. He rounded the corner and passed a surprised magician who quickly bowed to him. He only nodded. His head was buzzing; the conversation he had overheard had been intriguing, and not a little disturbing. A block of ice? Was that really what Dorrien thought? And what about Rothen, saying he 'needed to switch personalities' or something like that? Was switching personalities a good thing or a bad thing? Lorlen was so engrossed in his own thoughts he didn't notice the magician coming the other way until he bumped into him. "I-I'm so sorry," Lorlen spluttered. He turned round to face the magician.
An exceptionally old man was looking at him. The old magician looked him up and down, then gave him a glare filled with a strange hatred. Lorlen recoiled automatically from him. The man glared harder and whispered, "What strangers lie here? I remember when a High Lord would have sentenced a magician to forty weeks hard labour in the quarries for simply looking at him the wrong way! And now, I bump into you, and all you do is splutter and mumble? I glare at you, and you can't think of a thing to say?" The old man laughed cruelly. "You may have them all fooled, High Lord, but you can't fool me. I see a weak heart inside you. You'd better strengthen it before the testing times ahead…" With that the old man turned and walked away, still chuckling, leaving Lorlen rooted to the spot with shock.
