The gently-undulating mist deposited him none-too-gently upon the floor of the audience chamber within House Baenre, and Mourn had barely begun to adjust to the unpleasant feeling of vertigo brought on by leaping into the portal before something struck the back of his head and his vision exploded into stars. He slumped forward, gasping for breath, the marble underfoot cool and reassuring against his forehead, but whatever struck him dug cruelly into the wound the sorceress had inflicted upon his back and he knew he wouldn't be given a reprieve anytime soon. With a great effort he rolled onto his back, ignoring the stab of pain from his shoulder blade and it bore some of his weight, and glared blearily up into the eyes of Quartana Baenre.
"You useless male!" she shrieked, and Mourn didn't notice the twisting scourge of animate vipers clenched in her hand until they were lashing toward him; the fangs of the vipers bit deep into his upper left arm and torso, but did not release their potent killing venom into his veins as they tore at his flesh. That was something, Mourn reminded himself. That meant that no matter how furious the Baenre priestess was, she had use for him yet. "How could you fail in your mission?! The Spider Queen presented to you a golden opportunity to eliminate one of the most powerful monarchs in all the Realms, and you squandered it!"
Those words forced a dozen protests to his lips, but Mourn hadn't survived this long without learning to rein in his anger toward the wrathful females of the drow species; he bit his argument back and opted for a more diplomatic approach. "Someone intervened on Lord Shadow's behalf."
"Liar!" The scourge of vipers cracked forward again, responding in kind to their owner's ire. "I saw it! I saw you standing over the High Prince's bed – I watched you murder him while he slept! There was no one else – the goddess's visions cannot be misconstrued! I know what I saw!"
"Did you see the other shade?" Mourn snapped impulsively, wondering for the first time if the Spider Queen had been imparting false prophecies for sport – stranger things had happened after all, and was their deity not one who delighted in chaos and disorder? "The one with the telekinetic powers?"
Quartana's eyes were no less unforgiving, but she did retract her scourge arm and soothe the vipers with a wayward hand as she surveyed him forbiddingly. "There was no such shade. When I communed with the goddess, Lord Shadow was alone."
Mourn shrugged, ignoring the dull pain in his shoulder blade and the sharper pangs of agony in his left arm and torso. "I assure you, Priestess, Lord Shadow has better security than you originally anticipated. I made short work of the guards, but that one… I wasn't even aware of his presence. He came upon me without warning, and his mental prowess… I wonder if even the Oblodra…"
"The Abyss take the Oblodra," Quartana hissed, the muscles in her arm coiling for another strike, but she thought better of assaulting him further. "You are dismissed, for now. I would kill you for your insubordination as well as your failure, but that decision does not rest with me – the goddess has some design for you, and I dare not question her will. Remove yourself from my sight. I will call again when I have need of you."
Mourn didn't need telling twice; scrambling to his feet he departed the audience hall with all the speed he could muster without sacrificing his dignity, seething at the priestess's treatment and replaying the night's events over and over in his mind. He wanted nothing more than to dress his wounds and sleep uninterrupted for a time, but his foray into Thultanthar had left him with more questions than answers and he knew he would be better serving seeking counsel while the events were still fresh in his mind. He hadn't be exaggerating when he told Quartana that he doubted even the once-great House Oblodra, masters in the rare art of mind magic called psionics, would be able to combat that silver-eyed shade and his astounding powers of the mind.
And if Lolth hadn't predicted that shade's presence, what did it mean for their campaign? Lolth had employed Quartana Baenre to carry out her will and to glimpse fragments of the future to come… Could it be that the goddess Shar had done the same?
The moment the would-be assassin disappeared Aveil turned wrathfully on her heel and stalked right up to Fourth Prince Aglarel, who was inspecting his slowly-healing nose with careful fingers to ensure the bone knitted itself properly. "'No'?!" she growled. "I could have caught him, and you say no?! There has been an attempt on the High Prince's life, and now we must come before him to admit that the culprit has escaped us!" The anger was leeching itself out of her voice at an alarming rate, so that by the time she finished fear had replaced it. "I will be blamed for this!"
Phendrana half expected the Fourth Prince to laugh in her face, or to reply dismissively and without remorse – instead Aglarel dropped his hand from his nose, which seemed to have mended itself perfectly, and blew a sigh of frustration. "The fault is mine, for it was my judgment that stopped you. I will inform the Most High of this."
Evidently that wasn't good enough for Aveil. "But why – "
"Because, you fool, that portal might have led anywhere!" Aglarel roared in a sudden fury, and both Aveil and Phendrana flinched away from him. "I meant to safeguard you, wretched creature that you are – the High Prince is not in the habit of allowing his advisors to throw their lives away needlessly, which is surely what you would have done had you followed. You would accomplish nothing. We must think." Suddenly it seemed that Aglarel remembered Phendrana's presence, and the moment he snapped his eyes upon the doppelganger Phendrana found the prince's thoughts indelibly shrouded from his prying mind; Aglarel's gaze was so probing that Phendrana swore for a moment the prince's eyes were scalding his skin.
"Well," Aglarel said at length, tugging his cowl back into place before crossing his arms over his chest, continuing to survey the doppelganger judiciously. "This explains a few things."
Aveil was diligently prowling the lawn, retrieving first the Fourth Prince's crimson knife and then the bloodied steel blade she had used to strike at their enemy; Phendrana's eyes slipped momentarily to the ruby droplets staining the grass, somehow mortified by the sight, before flitting back up in time to watch Aglarel accept both weapons from her and stow them away within his shroud without a word. Phendrana found himself wondering at their unlikely partnership, which seemed formal yet somehow easy, natural; Aveil's eyes raked his relatively new shade body, coolly assessing, commanding his attention. "Now we know why he has been conveniently absent from council."
"Indeed," Aglarel agreed, and his soft laughter made Phendrana's skin crawl with discomfort. "I suspect the High Prince had nothing at all to do with your transformation, did he? Tell me – what have you and my dear brother Brennus been doing behind closed doors?"
Phendrana opened his mouth hotly to – what? Defend himself? Defend Brennus, the man who had utterly forsaken him in his time of greatest need? Thankfully he was saved from saying something rather ill advised when his shadow grew darker, heralding the approach of yet another shade, and Phendrana breathed a sigh of relief when Third Prince Lamorak solidified beside him looking puzzled.
"What has happened here?" asked the Determinist Prime, his eyes sweeping over Aglarel and Aveil before alighting upon Phendrana, his eyebrows raised. "The High Prince summoned me… he sounded distinctly unnerved…" Comprehension dawned and suddenly Lamorak's face did not seem at all friendly; quite the contrary he seemed both exasperated and at a loss when he said, "Phendrana, what have you done?! You know that the High Prince gave you specific orders not to allow yourself to be seen in public!"
"Oh did he now?" Aglarel mused beneath his breath, intrigue flashing in his eyes, but Lamorak chose to ignore him.
"What are you doing here?!" the Third Prince thundered at last, and Phendrana quailed in the face of his anger.
"He is not to be questioned!" shouted another voice, and the four of them whirled and craned their heads to regard the speaker – First Prince Escanor, the eldest of Most High Telamont's sons and the authority among the Twelve Princes of Shade when their sovereign was not present, was standing at the railing of the lower balcony on the third floor overlooking the rear-facing garden, flanked on his right by his fiancée, the High Prince's mountebank Soleil Chemaut. Escanor as always was tall and regal, favoring his father in both physical appearance and mannerism, and it was clear by his expression that his word was not to be questioned now. "By the High Prince's own words, Phendrana saved his life. We will convene the Shadow Council now to discuss what has happened here this night."
Lamorak was at a loss. "The hour is late, brother. The city sleeps."
"The Most High has decreed that these matters will not wait until the morning," Escanor insisted, "and his word is not open for debate. We meet now."
It was clear by the dumbfounded expression Lamorak wore that he had something to add he did not wish to discuss openly, but in the end he had no choice; lifting his eyes to Escanor's as though seeking some secret wisdom he asked, "All of us?"
Escanor nodded, and he seemed troubled now as well. "You may go to Villa Tareia and inform Brennus that the Most High has insisted he attend – I suspect he will agree most readily." Lamorak spared Phendrana one last fleeting look of genuine concern before dissolving into a shower of shadow particles; Phendrana's questions increased exponentially, but Escanor's voice pierced through his thoughts. "Aglarel, join us when you are able. Sceptrana, your seat has been prepared for you." The doppelganger hadn't a clue what this could mean until Aveil nodded meaningfully, and even then Phendrana felt he had more inquiries to make than before. At last Escanor's eyes settled upon him, curious and somehow sympathetic, and he finished, "Phendrana, the High Prince has requested your presence. He is in his private audience chamber awaiting your arrival – do tell him that I am summoning the Shadow Council, if you would be so kind."
"I will," Phendrana replied clumsily, feeling more out of place than ever before, and though he felt he would much rather have gone to meet the High Prince on foot he stubbornly decided to shadow walk the distance so as not to appear weak in the presence of his sovereign's advisors. Escanor had already turned his back and disappeared into the palace but Soleil lingered at the guardrail for a moment, long enough to offer Phendrana a kind of sad smile before following along in the First Prince's wake.
Phendrana hadn't quite shifted into the Shadow Realm when Fourth Prince Aglarel murmured words that he clearly meant for only Aveil's ears: "You are my eyes and my ears – I expect you will miss nothing in my absence. Watch Brennus. Watch the doppelganger. But above all else, watch the drow. Do not fail me in this." And then he was alone in the lightless plane of ever-shifting shadows, where he took what felt like his first real breath in hours.
A lesser man might have felt overwhelmed by all that had just transpired, but with his mind feeling keener than ever before Phendrana simply began sifting efficiently through all of his newly acquired information as he made his way forward, allowing his attunement to the High Prince's familiar presence to serve as the beacon that led him through the dark. If the High Prince was insisting upon Brennus's presence, might that mean that Phendrana wasn't the only one who had been in isolation since their return from Castle Tethyr? Given their circumstances were drastically different, did that mean the Twelfth Prince had been banished from court until further notice? Was he in danger? The High Prince had seemed understanding when he had received them – had all that been an act for Phendrana's benefit, a clever means to keep him from asking too many uninvited questions? Briefly the mindmaster considered confronting the Most High, but decided against such a course of action almost immediately. If Brennus had fallen from the High Prince's favor, further inquiries would likely only make his situation worse – Phendrana cared little for the youngest prince at the moment, but he did not wish him ill.
The unlikely companionship that had struck up between Fourth Prince Aglarel and Aveil Arthien was perhaps even more unsettling – as far as Phendrana was aware Aveil was a temptress and a compulsive liar, and these primary characteristics of hers made her ill suited to have strong ties with anyone among the High Prince's court, Aglarel foremost among them. Their interactions suggested that tonight's events weren't an isolated incident – no, they had worked together before, Phendrana was certain, and on more than one occasion. What had prompted such an alliance? When had Aveil risen through the ranks and into the High Prince's favor? He noted the term Sceptrana, a little-used title ancient civilizations bestowed upon one whom they wished to be known as a master of the arcane, of sorts – a lofty title for both a non-Shadovar and an enemy of Thultanthar, wasn't it? Though perhaps her elevation was circumstantial – the High Prince might be keeping Aglarel close to Aveil's side for reasons of his own. She could be under surveillance. She could be in possession of certain sensitive information that Aglarel was coercing her into giving up of her own accord. Or her talents for deception and manipulation were far more impressive than anyone had anticipated, and she was in complete control after all. The thought made Phendrana fear not just for Fourth Prince Aglarel, but for all of Thultanthar as well.
But there was one thing that Aglarel had mentioned that Phendrana simply couldn't rationalize on his own – he had wanted Brennus watched, he had wanted Phendrana watched, and he had mentioned a drow. Who could he have been referring to? The only dark elf Phendrana had heard tell of in all his time within the City of Shade was the abhorred lichdrow Lim Tal'eyve, who had once been the Anointed Blade of the Jaezred Chaulssin and then razed the Bloodstone Lands with the gift of undeath, but surely Aglarel couldn't mean him? Phendrana had never known Lim Tal'eyve, but he knew of him – everyone did, for he had reshaped Faerun so completely in his relatively short lifespan – and he knew that to forge an alliance with that one was folly. One did not stay on friendly terms with Lim Tal'eyve for long – the moment a person's usefulness had run its course, that person could be expected to stop breathing.
The rift his feet had led him to while he had been lost in his musings hovered at eye level now, a curious tear in the fabric between dimensions that often seemed to be little more than a black thread suspended in the air; Phendrana moved for it now, sensing his sovereign waiting restlessly on the other side, keen for both social interaction and answers to the dozens of questions he had compiled over the course of nearly two months.
Abruptly he felt tired, an exhaustion that seeped into his very bones, and his torso throbbed from where the assassin's unusual blade had bitten into his flesh; all he wanted to do was sleep, but he did his best to shrug the fatigue out of his muscles. It would not do to keep the High Prince waiting.
As Escanor had suggested Telamont was alone in the private audience hall when Phendrana melted out of the shadows that lined the furthest edges of the chamber; Phendrana had expected to find his sovereign pacing to-and-fro near the steps leading to the dias upon which his throne sat or consulting the world window, but instead he was standing perfectly still upon the bottommost stair. Not for the first time the doppelganger wondered if the Most High was omniscient in all things; though the thought left him feeling distinctly unnerved he approached, moving very slowly, each movement more sluggish than the last. Telamont's troubled expression softened with every step he took, and by the time Phendrana was standing before him the High Prince's eyes were wide with concern.
"F-First Prince Escanor is s-summoning the Shadow Council," he stammered uneasily, and only then did Phendrana lay his hand upon the wound he had sustained to find that not only had it failed to regenerate but the laceration was seeping shadow essence at an alarming rate.
The strength left him and his knees buckled, but the High Prince's hands darted out and grasped him by the upper arms, keeping him aloft; Phendrana's head lolled and his vision swam, as all the while the wound grew hotter and more painful. He turned in midair until he was cushioned upon some unseen force – the High Prince's ancient magic, he assumed dully – and with unprecedented care the Most High inspected the weeping laceration with light touches of his fingertips.
"You are bleeding, Phendrana." Telamont's voice was mild, as gentle as his fingertips, for which Phendrana was exceedingly grateful. "How did you come by this wound?"
"The assassin." Though the words he spoke were simple they were heavy upon his tongue and slow to leave his lips; Phendrana couldn't help feeling incensed. Such a superficial wound would have scarcely bothered him had he still possessed his mortal body – was his shade form so badly flawed that he would no longer be able to hold his own in combat? "A knife… it cut through… my armor…"
"I see that." The High Prince laid his index finger lengthwise along the wound – which by now felt as though it was on fire – and a blessed cool sensation spread along the torn edges of Phendrana's ruined flesh, slowly deadening the pain until it was pleasantly numb. It was quiet for a few minutes longer as Telamont lifted his free hand and conjured a tightly-knit silver dressing in a shower of glittering stardust; Phendrana watched blearily as his sovereign applied it to the wound upon his torso, fascinated by the way the dressing seemed to mold itself to the shape of the laceration. The feeling of perpetual exhaustion still lingered within Phendrana's extremities but the pain had subsided now, and he was grateful for that.
"What is it?" the doppelganger managed to articulate, a little more alert now.
Telamont dropped his hands. "The dressing? It is moon ivy – unconventional artisans will sometimes fashion armor out of it, for it molds easily to any wearer and is surprisingly durable in all conditions, but we have found through extensive study that it possesses astounding medicinal uses where our usual shadowsilk will not suffice. The wound that was inflicted upon you was done with a weapon constructed of starmetal – very rare, and potentially deadly even to shades. The material is such that even extraplanar creatures cannot withstand mortal wounds from a weapon of its construction, and even a superficial blow such as this one can kill one of our kind if it is not tended in a timely manner. It is good that I chose to see you prior to our meeting – even Rivalen is not learned in the proper treatment of such wounds, and he would have been little help to you. Should you like to stand?"
Phendrana nodded, for he felt strong enough to support his weight now and the moon ivy dressing was continuously spreading its pleasant cool throughout his body; the effects of Telamont's magic slowly expired, until the doppelganger came down lightly upon his feet and they stood facing one another again. He wisely bowed before his sovereign, saying, "High Prince, it is an honor to find myself in your presence again – though of course I wish the circumstances were far different."
"Indeed," Telamont agreed, and for a moment he appeared every bit the thousands-years-old being that he truly was – he was so wise, so venerable, that Phendrana often forgot that he had seen the dawn and twilight of ages past, ages that the doppelganger had only read of in ancient history books. "The honor is mine, Phendrana, and for my part allow me to sincerely apologize for your plight. Your isolation has been my doing – I felt it necessary to keep you from the public while Lamorak assessed your condition, and of course there is the matter of your… shall we say, premature transformation… to attend to. I fear that my decisions have not been of benefit to your mental state."
Phendrana bit back his questions with difficulty. The High Prince was not in the habit of divulging his motivations to anyone, much less seeking forgiveness for any of his actions – to dishonor his words with inquiries would be rather ill advised. Instead the doppelganger said, "I have been kept busy. There are many books to read, and my mind to train… Prince Lamorak has graciously helped me adjust to this new way of life. It is far more than I deserve."
"I'm not sure I would agree with that," said Telamont with the ghost of a smile, "and I would like to discuss your lessons with my son, but now would seem a poor time for that. You must know that several of my sons are calling for your arrest, and for your death."
"What?!" This news caught Phendrana so off guard that he felt as though he had been physically struck. "On what grounds?! High Prince, I can assure you, I have done nothing that could warrant – "
His protests were unceremoniously derailed in the next moment, for Telamont had enveloped him in his arms; Phendrana felt awed by the great strength he felt slumbering in the High Prince's extremities for physically he appeared far more frail than his sons, so much so that it was difficult at times to remember that he was the strongest of all of them. The doppelganger's arms hung limply at his sides as he was embraced, the moon ivy dressing upon his torso still imparting its comforting cooling sensation, and gradually his anxiety dissolved and he felt serene, peaceful. Only then did his sovereign speak. "Dear one, I know all that you would say, for they are the words that I would speak on your behalf. How cruel a thing it is to be misjudged for your actions, to be looked upon with suspicion and hostility when you are possessed only of the desire to do good. I know that we have nothing to fear from you, but I know also of the dreams which have been afflicting you."
"How – " Phendrana broke in defensively, but then he calmed. "Prince Lamorak."
"Of course – who else? He has been monitoring your mental state with commendable vigilance. Now – I am aware of all you have seen, and I know you appeared uninvited in my bedchamber with the blood of my personal bodyguards staining your boots not because you conspired to eliminate me, but because you somehow saw the fate that was in store for me and took the necessary steps to thwart it. You will be rewarded in short order for your valorous deeds, but not all within the city will look kindly upon your involvement – even after I have spoken on your behalf, and you have had ample opportunity to defend yourself. I accept your dreams and your visions – your mind is sharper than any blade and its capabilities, from all that we have seen, are thus far limitless – but I do not understand why you are having them."
It was a moment longer before Phendrana realized that he was being asked to explain himself, and he wriggled out of the High Prince's arms so that they could look one another in the eye. Telamont's eyes were windows into his soul, understanding and sympathetic and somehow ancient in their sadness; when he looked into them, Phendrana felt that whole universes were contained within their depths. "I cannot say for certain why I am having them. I had never had a dream such as these prior to my transformation, but they began plaguing my mind in my sleep thereafter and have continued to do so for two fortnights or more. I assumed they were merely a manifestation of my own insecurities and anxieties – I could never have guessed that they would be… well…"
"Prophetic?" Telamont supplied helpfully, and Phendrana was grateful he hadn't had to say the word aloud – even coming from the mouth of his sovereign it seemed an utterly ludicrous notion. "I daresay there is no way you could have known… Though I find myself grateful, for obvious reasons." He offered Phendrana a wry smile that the doppelganger reluctantly returned before saying, "You should find yourself to the council chamber now; yours is the voice that everyone will be anxious to hear, and the longer they are made to wait the more ruthless they will be. I will join you shortly – I have another matter to attend to first."
Phendrana nodded his understanding and made for the great double doors leading out of the private audience chamber and into the main hall, his mind buzzing with new information and unanswered questions, and stopped dead in front of the door that would take him into the council chamber. Even with the door closed he could hear a cacophony of voices raised in uproar, familiar voices engaged in a bitter dispute, and couldn't help but dread what awaited him within as he laid his slightly-trembling hand upon the doorknob. Some of these men, noble descendants of an ancient king whom he had sworn to protect with his life, would soon be calling for his imprisonment and perhaps even the end of his life – how could he possibly face them? How could he open himself to their severe criticism and their misplaced ridicule, when all he was guilty of was fulfilling his pledge to serve the Most High in all things?
You are Phendrana, soon to be the Mind of the Most High, a small yet courageous voice from somewhere deep within his subconscious told him. You are appointed the High Prince's advisor, and his authority on all sects of mind magic. You are not their inferior, and you have every right to defend yourself. The High Prince himself will defend you. He is assured of your innocence.
The words sounded stoic and full of conviction in his head, but with his fingertips still shaking as he turned the doorknob to admit himself Phendrana privately acknowledged the fact that he felt more ill than brave.
He had only a brief glimpse of a handful of shadow-swathed figures with jewel-bright eyes in a menagerie of shining hues grouped around the council table before the first one moved threateningly in his direction; standing awkwardly in the doorway with one hand still lingering upon the doorknob, Phendrana was ill prepared to retaliate. Fortunately he needn't have bothered; the glittering black glass katana was parried well before it reached Phendrana by the diamond-edged blade of a falchion, sparks flying so near to the doppelganger's face that he flinched back, and then Tenth Prince Rapha had raised his voice to a roar.
"I grow weary of your insubordination, woman!"
Soleil shifted her weight slightly, her slender legs coiled and ready to strike again as she lifted her falchion defensively; Phendrana had always been fond of the mountebank, but had never been so grateful for her support as he was now. "My insubordination?!" she spoke up bravely, hardly intimidated by the fact that even the smallest of the High Prince's sons stood at least a head taller than she did. "Did the Most High not state that Phendrana was not to be harmed?! Yet he has only just joined us and you would attack him without giving him even an opportunity to speak up and defend himself! Have you no sense of honor?! What would the High Prince say, were he present to witness such behavior?!"
"You do not speak for our father!" bellowed another voice – Sixth Prince Yder, who had already vacated his seat and was stalking up to Rapha's left side with one hand hovering threateningly near the handle of the chakra belted to his hip. "The doppelganger was present when the assassination attempt took place – we have only his word that he was there defending the High Prince, and nothing else!"
Phendrana opened his mouth, preparing to launch a vicious tirade in his own defense, but was interrupted when First Prince Escanor stepped up to his side and laid a comforting hand upon his shoulder, saying, "And what reason do you have to doubt his word? Is he not a member of this esteemed council, the same as you? Does his title Mind of the Most High mean so little to you?"
"An empty title!" Second Prince Rivalen barked with a laugh, seeming hardly concerned with the squabble from where he sat slumped in his customary position to the direct left of the High Prince's chair, arms crossed adamantly over his chest. "The High Prince also intended to name him a Hero of Thultanthar, as I recall, yet neither accolade has yet been bestowed upon him. And why is that? Do you not think the High Prince would not have rewarded such a faithful advisor, were he utterly convinced of his loyalty? It seems to me that Phendrana would have attained all that the High Prince has promised by now if the Most High was indeed assured that he did not have some ulterior motive."
"Are you accusing him of having a hand in this treacherous plot?" asked Fifth Prince Clariburnus in a quiet, deadly undertone; Phendrana hadn't noticed the prince had circled to his back until that precise moment.
"Have you some irrefutable proof he does not?" countered the amber-eyed seneschal Hadrhune.
"His encounter with the true assassin came to blows." Phendrana blinked once in surprise and turned his head, shocked to find that Aveil Arthien had come to his aid; she had taken her feet across the table and was facing Hadrhune with cool diplomacy in her eyes, and the High Prince's shadow sorcerer regarded her in turn with something that could only be bitter hatred etched into his features. "Fourth Prince Aglarel and I both witnessed as much before the assassin made his escape – I am certain he will attest to as much when he arrives. Forgive me, my great lords, but it seems to me that arguing over this matter is foolish."
"And it seems to me that you would be better served leaving these matters to your betters," Rapha shot back, and more than one head nodded along in agreement. "Who are you to speak on Aglarel's behalf?"
Aveil simply shrugged, seeming impervious to the ever-volatile temperament of the hexblade, and nonchalantly tucked a stray strand of severe black hair behind her left ear; Phendrana's eyes lit upon the glittering black amethyst pierced through the helix of her ear, identical to the one he had glimpsed the Fourth Prince wearing in the heat of battle, and thought that explained how she had so easily located them in their time of great need. "I am commanded to serve as his eyes and ears," she responded in a detached voice. "I only do his bidding. Were he here, I am certain he would call such squabbles foolish also. Would we not be better served determining amongst ourselves who might have the audacity to attempt the murder of the High Prince, and how the assassin was able to enter and escape the enclave without being ensnared by the wards that protect the city?"
"Well said, Sceptrana," said Third Prince Lamorak as he stepped smoothly out of his own shadow beside his seat at the long council table. "Our priority, as always, is to serve the High Prince." He looked to Escanor then, whose seat was directly to the left of his own, and offered, "Shall we begin?"
The First Prince's eyes fell upon the empty chair between Rapha and Soleil, a question in their coppery depths, but another shadow sprung up near Lamorak's left flank and he left the words unspoken; Phendrana watched the shadow solidify and take shape as rapturously as those gathered around him, feeling very much as though his heart was lodged in his throat though he knew that organ had died the moment he had taken the shadow essence into his body, and quite before he had composed himself the Twelfth Prince had appeared among them in a shower of shadow particles.
To say that Brennus appeared precisely the same yet much changed would not be far off the mark – outwardly there was nothing to suggest that he was anything other than his usual soft-spoken, genial, polite self, but Phendrana swore he could feel the difference in the aura surrounding the youngest of the High Prince's sons. There was a quiet hostility lingering about the corners of his bronze eyes, which were hard as stone and contained not a trace of the inviting liquid quality Phendrana had once enjoyed, and the walls he had built around himself were present in the black thought patterns Phendrana could detect emanating from him. He met the inquisitive – and in some cases openly questioning – stares of those gathered with an uncharacteristic coldness, and without so much as casting a glance in Phendrana's direction he slipped through their congregation and took his seat without a word.
The single shred of hope Phendrana had worked so hard to keep from blooming within his chest suddenly became a leaden weight that could not be ignored, and as those gathered around him moved to take up their seats he hastened to do the same. Only when he had reached the seat on Hadrhune's right side did he realize that there was a seat on his other side that he couldn't recall being filled before today, and with a start he recognized its occupant.
Once, several months ago, Brennus had come to Phendrana in Manifest and begged for his assistance in saving Hadrhune's life; the seneschal had been charged with Aveil's protection, and had nearly died when his encounter with the wraith form of Lim Tal'eyve had come to blows. When Phendrana had come upon the shadow sorcerer, bolted down to a table and screaming incoherently as particles of molten shadow ravaged his internal organs, he had glimpsed Hadrhune's true face for a brief moment – and the telling, pointed tips of the elf ears his hood always hid. He had never addressed this anomaly for he knew to do so would be overstepping his bounds, but in the back of his mind he had come to quietly admire the High Prince's favored shadow sorcerer. Though his true identity remained shrouded in mystery Phendrana knew him for what he truly was, and that was a man who had not been born into the power and prestige of the Tanthul family yet had still attained great privilege and respect. It was all that Phendrana himself strove to achieve daily.
He couldn't help but recall that moment when he looked upon Lim Tal'eyve, sitting in his seat at the far end of the left side of the table seeming relaxed yet attentive, whose physical appearance and general demeanor made him something of Hadrhune's twin in Phendrana's eyes. He had been clothed in a lighter make of the traditional Netherese black glass armor, a model that afforded him the necessary protection but did not hinder his quick movements, with a piwafwi-style cape that cinched to his left shoulder by a handsome brooch and flowed elegantly down his left side; he wore no hood or cowl to hide his dark elf birthright and his elf ears were clearly visible to any who would look upon them, and his amber eyes were matching in hue to Hadrhune's.
With yet another start Phendrana realized that Lim was wreathed in shadow, but he hadn't time to sort out the implications of that before conflict swept over the council chamber like a tidal wave yet again.
"So here you are at last," sneered Rapha, who loomed over Brennus somewhat menacingly on the youngest prince's right side. "What right do you have to abandon the High Prince's interests for such an extended period of time? Tell us where you have been all these long weeks, brother."
"Is it not obvious?" interjected Seventh Prince Dethud. "It is no coincidence that he is here on this first night we glimpse the doppelganger's new form for the first time." All attention turned back to Phendrana, who resisted the urge to fidget uncomfortably where he sat, but Dethud hadn't finished making his opinion known. "You know I am not one to pass judgment, Brennus, but you have gone too far this time. The consequences – "
"Could not have been very severe if he is among us again." Rivalen interrupted, his eyes slits of forbidding silver glaring out from the perpetual shadow of his face. "Can you even comprehend just what you have done, Brennus? You have nullified one of the founding principles of the Empire of Shade. You have violated the thousands-year-old tradition that decides the worth of each and every one of the High Prince's subjects. You have dishonored the Most High so grievously that I confess, I can no longer see what use you have to him. This is an unforgivable crime, Brennus, the resulting effects of which will resound throughout our corner of the realm for hundreds of years to come. Do you know what will happen within this city if word of your treason spreads?"
"Mutiny," sighed Escanor, though clearly it pained him to say such things. "Insurrection. The complete dissolution of our grand empire."
"Surely there is an explanation for this behavior," Clariburnus put in, his hands clasped upon the table in front of him and his shoulders slouched in a display of uncharacteristic defeat – he and Brennus had always been quite close, and it pained Phendrana to see the Fifth Prince clinging to that allegiance even now when all seemed lost. "We all know that our youngest brother is not a traitor – he is as loyal to the High Prince as any of us gathered here. I heard it told that he led Phendrana to the shadow to save his life, and that Phendrana would have been lost otherwise."
"I have heard similar rumors," put in Eighth Prince Mattick, while his twin Ninth Prince Vattick nodded his agreement across the table. "That cannot be called treason, surely. We all know that the Most High had intended to gift Phendrana the shadow, and that he had laid aside a position of great honor for him. Had Brennus failed to act, the High Prince would have lost a valuable ally."
"What do we care for one doppelganger?!" shrieked Rapha, his face twisted with manic rage. "Members of his worthless race are a copper a dozen! Let the High Prince satisfy his curiosity with another specimen of such low import!" He was pointing one accusing finger in Phendrana's direction now, his eyes on fire with hatred. "We are the Lords of Shade! We do not trifle ourselves with such useless creatures! This ancient law is everything to us, and now it has been completely disregarded in favor of one meaningless life!"
Worthless.
Low import.
One meaningless life.
The Tenth Prince's cutting words resonated within Phendrana's mind and spread like poison through his veins, striking a fever upon his skin, flaring a red tint at the edges of his vision; he had been prepared to abide much ridicule in the wake of his transformation, for he understood well just how seriously he had breached the founding principles of Thultanthar, but these were insults he could not simply accept without defending himself. He had sacrificed everything to serve the Princes of Shade, forsaken his friends and turned his back upon his homeland and even surrendered his mortal soul, and all the while he had carried himself with the honor and dignity he felt the Tanthul family deserved. And for what? To be insulted? To accept these insinuations that he was something less than a person, despite all that he had given and all he had yet to do?
Phendrana's anger rose and crashed over him like a tidal wave, and strangely his mind responded to his heightened state of emotion without any further provocation; he had lurched out of his seat and taken his feet but had no recollection of doing so, his chaotic emotions focusing into one razor-fine point that his mind was harnessing for him. The red at the edges of his vision darkened but everything he glimpsed became ultra-defined, as though his mind was sharpening the clarity of all that he surveyed – and there was nothing now that he saw more clearly than the simpering face of the arrogant Tenth Prince Rapha. Abruptly Phendrana's rage, simmering at a dangerous boil, bubbled over, but his dangerously keen mind was there to channel his excesses into a veritable outpouring of telekinetic energy; he slammed his palms flat upon the table with such force that the blow exploded throughout the chamber like a stroke of thunder, and then Rapha was buckling beneath his gaze. The Tenth Prince slammed back against the wall, the toes of his boots barely scraping the carpet underfoot, his hands scrabbling frantically at his neck though there appeared to be nothing there interfering with his breathing –
"Worthless?" Phendrana heard himself hissing in a voice quite unlike his own, a raspy whisper, a breath that froze the air with its icy hatred. "Meaningless?!"
There was commotion everywhere now; Rivalen and Yder and Melegaunt had converged upon Rapha, shouting inquiries, Escanor, Clariburnus, Vattick, and Soleil had leapt from their seats and were shouting at one another to do something, and Hadrhune and Lim seemed to be shaking in a fit of silent laughter. And all the while Rapha hung there helplessly, the perpetual cloak of protective shadows rapidly dissipating as his life force failed him, unable to look away from the doppelganger's chilling silver glare –
A familiar voice reached him from seemingly very far away, the calm point in the center of the otherwise raging hurricane. "Stop this, Phendrana. You have worked too hard these many weeks to lose control of your power now."
Phendrana came back into himself a little, became marginally more aware of where he was and what was happening; the red tint to his vision faded a bit, restoring a certain measure of his sanity. Control? Had he lost control? When had that happened?
Someone laid a hand upon his shoulder; the doppelganger flinched back and a horrible snarl ripped from his throat, a harsh, animalistic sound. "Concentrate, Phendrana," said the voice, perfectly controlled, completely unthreatening. "Control. You must control yourself. You don't want to do this. You don't truly want to hurt anyone, do you?"
No, he realized, he didn't really want to hurt anyone, he was just so angry…
"Phendrana," that collected voice said again, a little more insistently. "Fight back."
That was something he could do.
He gritted his teeth together and heaved against that intangible force that was merely an extension of his own mind, wrenching with all his might to bring it back under his control; it seemed that his rage had manifested into an invisible force that had seized Rapha by the throat and was slowly crushing the life from him, completely against his own volition. For a moment he grappled with it as one might throttle a physical enemy, molding back into a more desirable shape, bending that force to his will, and with a suddenness that ripped a gasp from Phendrana's lips everything returned to normal. His mind tamed, his vision returned to normal, and his other senses that had dulled during the flaring of his telekinetic energy suddenly returned to his awareness. He was gasping for breath, everyone was staring at him with a combination of terror and awe, and with a sharp inhale Rapha slumped to the floor.
Phendrana turned his head, fully expecting to find Brennus at his side, only to find that it was Third Prince Lamorak who had braved the full force of Phendrana's mental capacities to bring him back to himself. The doppelganger glanced across the table to where the Twelfth Prince sat, expecting an expression of concern to be looking back at him, and felt a shadow of his former rage rear its head when he identified the fear he found there instead.
How can you be afraid of me?! he shrieked, knowing that the loremaster would hear the silent words within his mind. YOU MADE ME!
"Take your seats," commanded a cool voice from near the head of the table, and flitting his eyes in that direction Phendrana found that Fourth Prince Aglarel had at last joined them – how long had he been standing among them unnoticed? His arms were crossed adamantly over his chest and he was alternating calculating glances between the place where Lamorak stood with Phendrana, the end of the table where Lim and Hadrhune still sat chuckling softly, and the opposite side of the chamber where Yder and Rivalen were helping Rapha to his feet. "The High Prince comes, and he is hardly in the mood for your petty squabbles. I have been commanded to tell all of you that if you are not prepared to obey his every word this night, you will be dismissed immediately from council." And with those admittedly ominous words he took his seat diligently, watching expectantly for his brothers to do the same.
The moment the last of them was seated the High Prince appeared among them, standing behind the magnificent chair at the head of the council table looking grave; they snapped to attention, prepared to serve, but Phendrana felt he was well-learned in their temperaments and didn't expect certain among their number to still be seated among them when the meeting came to a close. His eyes slipped to the table's surface, and with a start he realized there was a great fissure running through the dark granite where his hands had struck it just minutes ago.
"Let us move quickly, for we have much to discuss and I do not want the populace to feel that there is something amiss," Telamont told them brusquely, and he surveyed them all with his typical distinct air of nobility. "I know that many of you have reservations regarding Phendrana's involvement with this evening's… excitement. I will tell you now that he has my full support, and I no more fear his involvement in this devious plot than I fear any of you. Those of you that will continue to question his loyalty may leave us now, for I have nothing further to say to you."
Predictably Rapha rose from his seat right away, his nose in the air. "I will take my leave. It seems that I am the only one here who has not forsaken the old ways, Most High One, for I still believe in the sanctity of the Shadow Ceremony and the importance of such a ritual. This violation of our way of life does not sit well with me, and if I am expected to sit here and accept these breaches in our society I would much rather serve you from afar."
"Dismissed," Telamont said quietly, hardly phased by Rapha's words, and the Tenth Prince turned on his heel and swept off into the Shadow Plane. "Anyone else?" There was silence for the span of several heartbeats, during which Phendrana dared to believe that Rapha's interruption would be the only one, but then Yder also took his feet, bowed to their sovereign, and exited also. "Very well," said Telamont diplomatically, prepared to move ahead, but then Dethud cleared his throat.
"I do not wish to leave," the Seventh Prince confessed, his words uncertain, "but if you will enlighten me, High Prince… I have heard it told that Phendrana came into your bedchamber in the early hours of the morning and happened upon the true assassin standing at your bedside. I have considered every avenue that seems logical to me, but I confess – I can come up with no justification that places Phendrana in your private quarters at such a time. I only ask for your wisdom on this matter – I do not question you."
"Lamorak has been studying Phendrana since his transformation," Telamont informed them all. "He has formulated a theory that may serve as an adequate answer to your question."
Phendrana's gaze swept over Brennus, to find that the Twelfth Prince was glaring at him most inhospitably. The doppelganger's head spun. What could he have possibly done to find himself the recipient of such ire? Lamorak cleared his throat then, and sat up a little straighter. "The shadow crushes the mortal soul and stills the heart, both essential for the host body to survive under any circumstances. The essence of shadow is more than capable of sustaining us, but in response to shutting down the systems it must override in order to function properly it heightens a number of our existing capabilities so that we are better able to cope with the sudden changes to our bodies. For example, Rivalen is able to commune directly with the goddess Shar as a result of his heightened faith, and Clariburnus is stronger of arm than a score of warriors. In Phendrana's case, his advanced mental capabilities have become even more honed in more ways than one – in addition to stronger telepathy and telekinesis, it seems he has also become a Seer."
The question was upon Phendrana's lips almost instantly, but still Soleil beat him to it. "A Seer?"
"He has dreams that compound upon one another - and tonight, for the first time, one of his dreams played out detail-for-detail. With his subconscious mind he has been predicting the assassination attempt on the High Prince for weeks now." A violent chill that had little to do with the room's temperature ripped through Phendrana's body as the Determinist Prime finished, "He is, for all intents and purposes, a prophet."
Clariburnus was staring back at Lamorak looking dumbfounded. "I have never heard of such a thing happening before. Can the shadow truly be responsible for this gift of his?"
Lamorak shrugged noncommittally and said simply, "Once, hundreds of years ago, I watched you wrestle a were-owlbear that stood fourteen feet tall. You weren't wearing your armor, and you hadn't brought any of your weapons. If I remember correctly you snapped its neck, you didn't sustain any wounds, and you told me you did it 'for fun'."
"Oh yes," Clariburnus cackled, and Phendrana couldn't help but appreciate the levity. "That was fun."
"My point is," Lamorak continued, "that the shadow has been responsible for many unprecedented gifts over the years we have been harnessing it for our uses. If this was not an ability that Phendrana possessed prior to his transformation, it is only fair to assume that the shadow bestowed it upon him."
"That may explain how he knew of the assassin's impending arrival," Rivalen drawled, obviously nonplussed, "but it does not explain how the doppelganger showed up in the precise place at the absolute right time. Is that not curious?"
"Tonight was the first time I glimpsed the killing blow in my dreams," Phendrana recalled, and his stomach writhed when he remembered just how close to his demise the High Prince had truly come. "When I woke, after seeing such a thing, I knew that I had to move quickly or the deed would be done."
Rivalen came forward in his chair, silver eyes glinting maniacally, and it was obvious that he was hardly convinced of Phendrana's innocence. "And how could you have possibly known just where the High Prince's bedchamber was located?"
Phendrana's eyes were upon Lamorak when he confessed, "I felt it." The Third Prince nodded minutely back at him – at least one person understood.
Then Rivalen vacated his seat, and Phendrana's spirits plummeted again.
"High Prince, I beg you, give me leave to return to the Church and commune with Shar," the Second Prince requested, looking flustered and confused. "That is how I can best aid you now – I will be of no use if I stay here."
Telamont surveyed his second eldest son with something like quiet sadness lining his platinum eyes – it was clear in his expression that he hadn't been expecting this loss, and took it harder than the others – but in the end he did not object. "You are also dismissed," he told Rivalen authoritatively, and the High Priest of Shar vanished without another word. Phendrana couldn't help but wonder how many more of the High Prince's progeny and trusted advisors would abandon their sovereign's cause simply because they could not find it within themselves to trust him.
"You felt it?" Vattick repeated, his face scrunched up with confusion as he struggled to understand.
"I have difficulty navigating the Shadow Plane with my eyes," Phendrana admitted sheepishly, his shoulders drooping a little. "In my lessons Prince Lamorak has been teaching me how to use my mental influence to sense familiar thought patterns and auras, and to use those emanations to guide my feet when I am passing through that dimension."
Vattick exchanged a glance with his twin, who shook his head and shrugged his shoulders. "I have never heard of someone navigating the Plane of Shadow in such a way," Mattick confessed, at a loss for words. "That is… unusual, certainly, and most impressive."
"Be that as it may," Aglarel broke in, his voice pinched with barely contained impatience, "I can't imagine that these curiosities will be much help to us as we endeavor to protect the High Prince from future situations of this nature." The cool reminder remained unspoken, but the true meaning of Aglarel's words was plain: "We have other more pressing business to attend to."
"You are right," Escanor acknowledged, and leaning forward in his chair he set his gaze upon Phendrana, who had been anticipating further questioning; the atmosphere was still one of complete unease, and the doppelganger was perceptive enough that he did not miss the constant glances of suspicion being cast his way. "Phendrana, tell us of the assassination attempt. What was the intruder doing when you came upon him? What did he look like?"
"Did he speak?" Lamorak put in earnestly.
Phendrana's eyes traced the fissure in the table that he had caused in his rage, feeling slightly melancholy and self-conscious – how could he have allowed his self-control to waver? He found it somewhat simpler to address them if he didn't look anyone in the eye, and with his hands twisting in his lap he recalled the events to them. "He was coming to the High Prince's bedside from the balcony… Which I find confusing, now that it comes to it. Obviously he came in through the door, for when I came upon the guards they had already been killed."
"Likely he was securing the perimeter," Dethud put in quietly. "Ensuring there were no other unseen guards ready to flock to the Most High's rescue."
Phendrana felt a little better for the clarity, and continued with a little more confidence. "When I saw that he was armed I acted purely on impulse… My power… I cannot explain what happened."
"I have glimpsed the depths of your destruction," Aglarel put in, and he surveyed the group at large to ensure that he had everyone's attention before continuing. "Curtains shredded. Marble torn asunder as if it was parchment. Handrail splintered. Further proof that whoever we are dealing with is more than he appears – such telekinetic energy should have destroyed him. He must have enchantments warding him against such attacks."
"What did he look like?" Escanor prompted again, a little more firmly this time, and Phendrana, Aglarel, and Aveil all responded simultaneously.
"He was a drow."
The icy, forbidding silence that descended upon the council chamber was akin to the inside of a long-undisturbed tomb as realization dawned upon them all, and then First Prince Escanor vacated his chair and turned his burning copper eyes upon Lim Tal'eyve. To his credit the drow did his best to look appropriately concerned, and his expression changed to one of polite perplexity when he met Escanor's gaze.
"You," hissed Escanor, radiating hostility with every fiber of his being. "You brought this upon us."
"I?" repeated Lim, coming forward a little in his chair, seeming offended, and Phendrana's hands twitched angrily in his lap. "I am in no way related to this incident. You will name me the villain simply because I share a heritage with this would-be assassin? Drow are cold-blooded killers, prince – it is in our nature. If you do not acquaint yourself with murder at a young age you are more often than not disposed of. It is a trait my brethren and I all share, certainly, but a desire to destroy the High Prince?" he scoffed and waved one hand dismissively, as if the issue was hardly worth his time at all. "Preposterous."
"And yet we suffered no qualm with the dark elves until we adopted you into our midst!" bellowed Clariburnus, who had also leapt to his feet now and had one hand upon the shaft of his enchanted glaive as though prepared to strike. "Now two fortnights after your ascension your kind is sending killers to our doorstep with every intention of murdering our monarch?!"
"Allow me to remind you yet again that the actions of my kin have nothing to do with me," Lim answered with a sigh.
"What proof do you have of that?" Lamorak challenged diplomatically, though it was clear in his eyes that he was no less incensed than the rest of them – rather, he mastered his temper far better. "What alibi absolves you of your involvement?"
Lim opened his mouth to speak but Hadrhune cleared his throat and shifted in his seat, his eyes seeking the High Prince's when he said, "He could not have assisted anyone in breaching the enclave's defenses, Most High One, because he was with me."
That set all of them back on their heels for a moment – except Telamont, who was surveying Hadrhune as though unsurprised by this news. Escanor, who had always been at odds with the seneschal and whose rivalry had only worsened since he had announced his betrothal to Soleil, recovered first and responded rather antagonistically. "And what business do you have with him, I wonder?"
"I have been entertaining him in the Shadow Mages College in the late hours of the night, when classes have concluded for the day," Hadrhune informed him placidly, seemingly bored in the face of his hostility. "I have been versing him in the ways of shadow magic and aiding him in acclimating to his new life at the High Prince's request."
"In addition to what other less-than-reputable pursuits?" Escanor fired back, and Hadrhune sighed tragically as though wounded by his words.
"I am only providing a service on the Most High's order – the same service, I might remind you, that Prince Lamorak is supplying Phendrana, and I do not hear anyone protesting that."
Phendrana swept his gaze surreptitiously around the table, saying nothing, gauging the reactions of those gathered around him; Escanor looked deflated at the abrupt halt of his swiftly-mounting tirade, Lim was looking bored at the way the council session was proceeding, and Aglarel and Aveil were staring quietly into one another's eyes as though engaged in silent conversation. Unconsciously he found his gaze coming to rest upon Lamorak, admittedly his only true supporter in this conflict, to find that the Determinist Prime was already watching him with an unreadable expression upon his face; Phendrana started to reach his thoughts out in Lamorak's direction but snatched his mental influence away almost immediately, for the chamber was filled with the High Prince's awareness and he wasn't foolish enough to believe that their conversation would be truly private if he pursued it.
Was anyone present not secretly striving to achieve their own ends?
Thankfully the High Prince brought the discussion back on track, though his voice was steely and strangely detached. "All that Hadrhune says is true, Escanor; you must lay your prejudices aside, for Hadrhune has atoned for his past transgressions and continues to do my bidding – the same as the rest of you. I grow weary of your petty squabbles and your division – already three of my own sons have abandoned this council, and I will not tolerate further insurrection. Phendrana is in no way responsible for the assassination attempt – instead of accusing him you should be thanking him, for as I recall he was responsible for coming to my defense and not any of you." He graciously allowed them all a moment for those words to sink in, only considering the silence substantial when a handful of them began to shift guiltily in their chairs, and then his gaze fell upon Aglarel. "You have inspected the city's enchantments for breaches?"
"Yes," Aglarel confirmed, looking vexed. "All of the enchantments are intact – indeed, we seem to be faced with a situation similar to one we dealt with not long ago."
This seemed to mean something to Telamont, who turned immediately to Lim Tal'eyve. "When you led the phaerimm here all those months ago, how did you manage to avoid the enchantments that keep portals from activating within the enclave? And tell me truthfully – your safety here might well depend upon your answer."
"I was able to convince the Spider Queen that I intended to lay waste to your city," Lim admitted, "and with her belief in my intentions I was able to secure her support for my entrance. The portal she conjured was one of divine strength, and likely nullified your security enchantments altogether."
Was Telamont looking troubled? Phendrana wasn't certain he had ever seen his sovereign wearing such a somber expression before. "Is it possible that Lolth would grant such aid to another drow?"
Lim spread his hands, at a loss. "Perhaps, but to whom? If I were to speculate I would say that only a high-ranking priestess could make such a request of the goddess, and then only with very good reason. And for what reason would a priestess of Lolth attempt murder on the High Prince of Thultanthar?"
"You'll forgive us if we continue to assume this has something to do with you," Clariburnus told him dryly, earning himself a spattering of dark chuckles in response.
"Until we have any such proof," Telamont rumbled disapprovingly, "we will assume no such thing. I require constant vigilance from all of you, and with that in mind I will now share with you my will.
"Tomorrow we will assemble in the palace courtyard to name Phendrana a Hero of Thultanthar and the Mind of the Most High, titles which he well deserves that should have been bestowed upon him the moment he set foot within our city. I want the gates opened and I want all of the city in attendance – let them all see the face of their new champion, who selflessly thwarted an attempt on the life of their sovereign. Let us not forget that three days from now we will be holding a masquerade in honor of Soleil's upcoming marriage to Escanor – this affair will take place in the grand ballroom, and is to be attended by all members of the Upper and Lower courts. The wedding is a tenday from now, and if you value your lives you will work together to solve this fiasco before then. I have waited millennia to witness the wedding of my eldest son to a woman deserving of the title First Princess of Thultanthar, and nothing will spoil this occasion, do I make myself clear?"
There was a general murmur of agreement throughout the council chamber, but the High Prince chose not to wait for their replies; an instant later he had dissolved into his own shadow and left their midst, much to the surprise of all. Anxious whispered conversations struck up from all directions with several pairs of eyes flitting questioningly in his direction and away in what their owners surely hoped was an inconspicuous manner; Phendrana suddenly felt that he could not abide to remain in the presence of such suspicious gazes any longer, and closing his eyes he stepped into the Realm of Shadow.
It occurred to him as he was stumbling through that lightless plane in the direction of Villa Tareia that during the council, Brennus hadn't spoken a single word.