Lilith sat there, drumming her fingers on the obsidian table as her eyes scanned the others. Morg, Gnarl, The Cannibal, and The Huntsman. All of them were anxious, when Lo hadn't returned with the others there had been a spark of tension. When the elf came later, informing them about her and John, that had relieved it slightly. Lilith knew Lo still had some feeling left for the boy, for some reason she couldn't work out.
Then she hadn't come back at all. They'd put the elf in a cell. Just in case, and spent the the rest of the day pacing, attempting to work out what had happened, until Lo came back. She was stumbling. Unable to walk. Collapsing before reaching the end of the tunnel. A group of browns had been brought to carry her to her quarters. She'd landed on her mattress with a thud, being unable to move. They'd gotten a single word from her. Fay.
"So." She began. "We all know the issue."
"And which one would that be?" Gnarl hissed. "The overlord on her deathbed? The fact that Fay's out to get us? Her leaving Lo stumbling? Or the attack in two days?"
"The girl is not on her deathbed." The Cannibal stated calmly. "Her heart beat has slowed down, and her magic is practically gone. I believe she will be unable to act, physically or magically for some time. Though ultimately she will be fine."
"As for what did this." Lilith began, her voice shaking slightly. "We all know what she said before falling unconscious."
"Might I ask what Fay is?" The Huntsman inquired.
"Why don't you do the honours Lilith." Gnarl snarled, obviously still bitter at the situation.
The succubus took a deep breath. "Fay, is the name of Lo's mother. Her actual mother."
"I assume she isn't a direct threat." The Huntsman stated.
"Really?" She asked, sounding rather surprised. "You don't want to know anything else?"
"We have a much larger issue." The Cannibal answered. "The attack on Everlight will begin in two days. We sealed the gate and removed some key components of the opening mechanism so it will stay sealed. However, with the king arriving at Nordberg our kin have likely been given permission to act, and may be able to deal with the problem."
"And the fact Lo won't be able to help means that the minions will be less coordinated." The Huntsman added.
"We are not at the most advantagous at the moment." Morg said, stroking his chin with a slimy blue finger. "Anything we can use?"
The Cannibal leant back in his chair. "We have two. We can cut off the abominations easily. They'll be using one of The Gatekeepers to transport them. We remove him, they're cut off. And I know the names of every one of the originals, and their capabilities."
"We cross his list with our own, and the ones we know were at the meeting." The other man started. "We can work out who they have on their team, and the best way to deal with it."
"That still leaves the second generation though." Lilith reminded, to which The Huntsman gave a shrug.
"We're going to have to roll with the punches on that one." The Huntsman stated.
"Can it just be me and you doing the rolling?" Lililth chuckled, causing The Huntsman to let out a slight hiss. He knew she was just doing it to get a reaction, but he couldn't help it. "Anyway, there is something slightly more light hearted I'd like to discuss."
"And what might that be?" The false Overlord asked.
"It's going to be Lo's birthday in a week, and since it's the day before she'd usually celebrate."
"We are not throwing her a party." Gnarl stated. "We have too much going on at a moment."
"I'd at least like to get her something."
"Yes, and while your doing that, we'll be defending."
"Shut up the pair of you." The Huntsman interrupted. "You will stop acting like children."
"If I don't will you." Lilith began before receiving a glare from the abomination that made her fall silent.
"Gnarl, you will say something nice, and have Grubby make something for her birthday."
Lilith stuck out her forked tounge.
"And you will stop acting like a petulant child, and reorganise your priorities, or I'll let Gnarl garrote you with your own entrails. Are we all clear?" He finished, slamming his fist into the table.
"Yes." The pair murmered.
Gnarl took a deep breath, regaining his composure in an instant. "That still leaves our little elven stray."
"She'll be looking after Lo till she gets back up." More replied, trying to calm his fellow minion. "We'll just have to wait till then before sorting this out."
"I'll see if I can find any bedding she can use." The Huntsman finished, pulling himself up.
Lilith let out a sigh. "There you go talking about bedding elves. It's almost like you don't want this relationship to work."
"Shut up whore."
Tristen looked as John moved each finger, contracting them to make sure he could still move them. With the bolt hitting his arm he had to make sure that none of his tendons were severed. Fortunately none of them had, but he was still advised to do it regularly, just to make sure.
"So, how did the conversation with Drez go?" He asked, fidling with something in his pocket.
"We'll he apologised and said it was for my own good. I disagreed, and now I'm stuck in here." John replied. "I can't even do any training thanks to this." He lifted up his arm. 'We need to have a rematch sometime."
"You're dealing with this surprisingly well."
"I'm trying to keel calm, think things through more. It's why I didn't try to convince her to come back."
The lordling took a pause before letting out an uncomfortable sigh. "I think Drez is right. You're thinking things through, but you're in love so its not actual logic. You don't know why she's doing this, what her end goal is, or if she even feels the same way."
John gave a brief look of confusion before returning a more complacent look. "I can understand where you are coming from."
Tristen let out a sigh. "I'm not sure you do."
"Meaning?"
There was a slight pause. "Nothing." He replied, shaking his head, before tenatively asking a question. "Might I ask what the pair of you talked about?"
There was another pause, this one longer than the last. "What I'm going to say, it doesn't leave this room, do you understand."
Tristen gave a nod.
John went to the door and gave it a hard smash, waiting for a brief period before deciding that no one was listening in. "It's not exactly a long story, but it is kind of an awkward one."
It didn't take long for him to explain, though Tristen did question him several times afterwards.
"So, she's Oberon's niece?"
John nodded.
"Did he know what happened to her mother?"
"I don't know, I didn't really have time to ask."
Tristen started to fiddle with something again before letting out a sigh. "What about the people lining up to kill her? Did you get any evidence?"
"No. But why would she make something like that up?" The prince asked.
"To get you on her side." The other one stated flatly, receiving a look of acknowledgement. "You want her to come back, maybe she wants you to join her. You think having the prince turn on his father wouldn't cause some others to turn against him?"
John took a deep breath. "She's not like."
"You have no idea what she's like." Tristen stated, gritting his teeth slightly, his patience finally breaking . "I am tired of you acting like a lovesick puppy. She is not a nice person. She has killed people. She is killing people. She will continue to kill people till she get what she wants. Which is to kill people. And she might not stop then. Wake up."
John just stood there, silently.
"Now, I've got somethings I need to follow up on." Tristen finished before slamming the door behind him as he left and heading to his next destination.
He let out a light growl, mostly at himself. He despised that fact that he'd probably been like that, and continued to mull over that thought till he reached a small inn that had seemingly been hijacked by the elves, a pair of them stood outside while another crouched on the roof, scanning the area.
When he managed to convince the guards to let him pass, he heard shouting from the back room before seeing the palading, Khalen, something, come out, looking back over his shoulder.
"We had a deal."
"Yes, and you did not fulfil your part, therefore I shall not fulfil mine." Another voice called back, before Tristen paused, knocking on the wall instead of the open door. "You may enter."
Tristen rounded the corner to see Oberon sat at his desk.
"Might I ask why you're here?" He asked, not looking up from his work.
"My name's"
"I know who you are." The elf replied, before looking up. "Yet I don't know why you're here."
Tristen took a seat opposite the man, taking a deep breath. "What can you tell me about Lo's mother?"
Oberon lent back in his seat. "And why would you be interested such things?"
Tristen took another breath. "I'm trying to work out how she thinks." He lied, fortunately for him it was convincing.
Oberon sat silently for a moment. "And you think an insight into her mother will lead to an insight into her."
Tristen shrugged. "I suppose."
The elf paused. "She was a good woman, intelligent, helpful, though naive, almost insufferably so. Though she lost that quickly when the empire rose."
"Might I ask what happened to her?"
"I do not know. Though I can assume."
"And what do you assume?" Tristen asked, leaning in.
Oberon took a much longer pause, clearly thinking things through. "She was in the Wasteland Sanctuary when it fell to the Overlord."
"And?"
"I'll let you put it together yourself." Oberon finished, before having one of his guards usher him out.
Tristen let out a sigh before heading to the alleyway next to the building.
Her mother was captured by the Overlord and, the first piece snapped into place. I don't know anything about elven pregnancy, though I'm guessing it lasts longer than humans though. So that explains how she was born so far after the old one's death. Why would they keep her alive? Is the Overlord, thing, passed through blood?
They kept her alive, hoping she'd give birth to the next one. Then, when it was a daughter, they got rid of it and killed her? Though it didn't explain this. Tristen reached into his pocket, pulling out a small book he'd found in the college's library, and opened it to the furthest page in the back that had been scribbled in.
He looked at the top corner, with the initials L.C written in the top, a bad drawing of blue creature, resembling a cross between a fish, a frog and a human, with overly large hands and a bulbous head. Also written down was a small bit of information, listing their ability to heal, and beneath the drawing, was a caption.
This is Morg. He is my friend.
A/N TY for reading, sorry for it taking a while.