What a day, a Before Friday Thursday!

Enjoy the chapter!

Open Sesame

Cedric POV(summer of 294 AA)
Cedric was a human in his late thirties with blue eyes, brown hair and a large bushy beard that covered most of his face. His father had been a baker and his mother had been a servant girl in the city of Stannat in the Damocles province, but despite his low upbringing, he had been born with a good head on his shoulders and a natural ability to make people like him.

These talents had been what had elevated him to the rank of centurinus within the Alliance army, but he had never been good at planning strategies, so centurinus was as far as he had ever gotten. It was not that that was a particularly low position for a man with his service record of over two decades, quite the opposite actually, though many of the young children of various important lords and ladies almost always seemed to find themselves promoted sooner than others.

Still, Cedric was quite happy with his commission, and quite happy about his life in general, which was why he was so nervous about his latest assignment; delivering the bad news to Lord Commander Mercury in place of his superior, whom had actually been responsible for the fiasco.

Cedric had arrived in the city only just half an hour ago, and as such, he had yet to change out of his travelling armour or otherwise freshen up, but it was well-known that Lord Commander Mercury wanted any and all urgent messages to be delivered to him as soon as possible.

"Where can I find the lord commander?", he flagged down and asked a passing page.

"Lord Mercury is in the training grounds, my lord", the page answered slightly terrified, and though Cedric had wanted to correct him in assuming that he was a lord, he let the boy go instead. It was not worth the discussion to correct someone that he would likely never meet, or at least remember, ever again.

As he walked to the training grounds of Ilirea Castle, Cedric was stopped three separate times. The first time, it was just the palace guards, which let him through simply by him ordering them to, while the second and third time, it was members of the Varangian Guard, which only let him through after seeing both his own sigil to confirm his rank of centurion, as well as the sigil that his superior, Commander Seras, had given him to speak on his behalf.

Even after slipping through the third checkpoint, Cedric still felt eyes following him, though when he turned around to look, there were none. The experience only added to the unease that he felt about being the one to deliver such bad news to the lord commander.

Finally, he reached the training grounds, where he was quickly flanked by two Varangian guards, but was otherwise left untouched and free to observe the scene before him.

Standing in the middle of the barren dirt of the training grounds, with the sun shining its rays down upon him, was the lord commander. His upper body was bare and displayed an almost perfectly flawless ivory skin that was sinewy, but which had a few blue and black bruises on his arms and shoulders.

On his legs, he had a pair of tight fitting brown leather leggings and a red sash around his midriff, which had a single long end that trailed down his left leg. His hands were occupied by a staff weapon with a short blade at one end, which Cedric had only heard was being used in the far western provinces of the Alliance.

All in all, the lord commander looked to have been built with swift and flexible movements in mind, but Cedric knew from the stories told about him that he was much stronger than he looked, and twice as fast, which he demonstrated quite aptly at this very moment.

Circling around him, like vultures circling a prey in the hopes of finding an opening, were three other Varangian guards. One of them carried a sword and a shield, another carried a twohanded sword and the last used a pike, and all of them were in their full combat armour.

The one with the pike lunged at the lord commander, but he swiftly bended to the side and missed the thrust by a hair's breath, before he was then attacked by the one with the twohanded sword. The lord commander escaped the trap by swirling the staff weapon to let the bladed end connect with and deflect the blow, before letting the blunt end smack his opponent on his helmet.

The attacker stumbled back, but before the lord commander could finish him off, the other two intervened. What followed next was a whirlwind of swift movements, acrobatic jumps and near impossible bends. As the fight drew on, Cedric's gaze kept being captured by the whipping motions of the red sash.

Though rumours that the lord commander was gravely ill had circulated throughout his Sword, the Ninth Sword, Cedric could now deny them all with his own two eyes. The lord commander did not even seem tired by dancing around as he did, unlike his three opponents, who were all beginning to show signs of fatigue.

"How long have they been at it?", Cedric questioned one of the Varangian guards beside him.

"This round started about fifteen minutes ago", the man answered him, "but the lord commander started today's training session at sunrise".

That is almost eight hours ago, Cedric realized but did not openly say. Instead, he asked the question that actually concerned him, "when will he be free to receive my report?"

"After this round is over", the man replied tersely.

Cedric nodded and shifted his attention back on the round. The lord commander was constantly swirling the weapon and was using the blunt end just as much as the bladed one. The entire scene made Cedric reminisce about the first time that he had ever been on a campaign with Lord Commander Mercury.

It had been almost two decades ago, back when he had still been a part of the Eleventh Sword, and the lord commander had led a group consisting of Cedric's centurion and one from the First through the jungles of the Dimholt province.

The jungle had been treacherous to get through, as there were ample opportunities for ambushes and plenty of invisible swamps to claim the lives of those not careful, which was why only two centurions could be sent in. Sending in more men would have been akin to throwing them away.

After two weeks of marching through the jungle in search of the hidden cities that housed the green people that kept raiding the coastal settlements' foragers, the group's scouts had suddenly started vanishing one by one.

At that point, they had come too far in for them to turn back, especially since it was very likely that an ambush was waiting for them, so instead, the lord commander had taken up the front and had led them from there.

In his sleep, Cedric sometimes still dreamed about the giant green scaled beast that had suddenly exploded out of the calm water without any warning and grabbed on to his leg like a dog with a bone, only so MUCH stronger.

The next thing that he remembered was seeing the lord commander's sword planted deep between the eyes of the green monster. He did not remember who it had been that had patched up his leg, but he did remember how the lord commander had then gathered everyone and told them what to look out for, before he had started skinning the giant beast. They had eaten well that night.

A few days later, a panther had tried to maul him, but the lord commander had made it submit to his will and then used the black cat to find the safe routes to the hidden cities. The panther was still with the lord commander to this very day, just like Cedric still carried the teeth of the green scaled beast in a little pouch around his neck.

In the present though, the fight was concluding as the lord commander managed to take the pike from one of the three and then somehow ended up with the other two on either side of him. His arms were outstretched towards each of them, and the bladed end of his staff weapon and the tip of the stolen pike were under each of the two's helmets.

After each of them admitted defeat, he handed the two wooden shafts to the one that had held the pike, before he shook hands with each of them and then made his way up to the shaded area from where Cedric had been watching.

His torso would have had a sheen of sweat covering it and making it reflect in the sun, but the dust of the fight had settled there instead.

"So, what brings you here?", he asked pleasantly enough.

Cedric swallowed once again and sent a silent prayer to the Mother, the goddess of mercy and fertility, before he finally spoke, "I am afraid that I come with bad news from Commander Seras, my lord".

"Hmm, I only asked him to do one thing for me before preparing to leave Bedegraine", Lord Commander Mercury said evenly, eerily so, "you must have ridden for quite a while to bring me this news. You there, bring him a cup of cider, you know the one of which I speak, and get me a cup of wine while you are at it. Red wine, preferably Dorthian, if there is any left. In the meanwhile, why do you not tell me of everything that has occurred?"

And so Cedric did. He told of the deaths of the elves that had driven and guarded the wagon train, he told of how the Osilon city guards had chased the assailants away and killed former elven ambassador Vanir, along with descriptions on each of the survivors and their dragon, and at the end, he told of how the wagons had been set ablaze and how the real cargo had not been amongst the ashes.

During his tale, the drinks had come and though Mercury had sipped from his from time to time, Cedric had left his untouched.

"You are telling me that a bunch of ingrates somehow managed to find out not only which wagon train that I was using, but the exact wagon that the cargo was in?", the lord commander inquired with a calm unnerving voice, "information that only a handful of people know about in this world, was still managed to be leaked to our enemies. How do you think that that happened?"

"Someone must have told them, my lord", Cedric answered and barely restrained himself from quivering with fear.

"Exactly", the lord commander confirmed, before he directed his gaze down upon the untouched goblet in Cedric's hands, "and I see that you have yet to touch your drink. Is it not to your liking?"

Cedric could only just manage to stop his hands from shaking and spilling the drink that he was holding. It was his first time telling the lord commander of any sort of news, and it just had to be bad news. Why could he not have been sent with good news instead?

Absentmindedly, he also wondered whether the Mother had even heard his prayer. It was well-known in the Alliance that the lord commander did not believe in any deities, not publicly at least. Cedric had always believed that he had to believe in something, everyone did, but that for the sake of appearing fair and just to all of the many religions of the Alliance, the lord commander acted as if he did not.

Now however, as he was slowly lifting the goblet that was filled with poison up to his lips, Cedric began to wonder whether the gods were only able to influence the ones that believed in them. It would certainly make sense in a lot of ways.

The first sip was cool to his tongue and it left a sweet taste in his mouth, but Cedric did not wish to drag things out, so he continued to empty the goblet under the watchful yet curious gaze of the lord commander.

When he was done, he did not feel any different than he had before, except for having quenched his thirst, and to his surprise, the lord commander started laughing. It was not the laughter one would use when your enemies were defeated, but rather one that was used when you simply found something amusing.

"You thought that it was poisoned, and yet you still drank it", Lord Commander finally said as he stopped his laughter, "I do not know what that says about you as a person, but I would appreciate it if you were not so quick to throw your life away again. Good messengers are hard to come by, and good officers even more so".

"You have forgiven me, my lord?", Cedric asked incredulously.

"There was never anything to forgive", the lord commander said and shrugged, "you delivered your message in accordance with your orders, so why would I blame you for the contents of the message? That Commander Seras did not dare to see me in person, and sent a proxy in his stead, is another matter entirely".

"But, what about the weapon, my lord?", Cedric continued, "I thought that you would have been furious at losing it".

"It was a useless broken toy anyway", he said and shrugged once again, "though if Commander Seras wants to make up for his failings, he can begin scouring the black markets for the casket. It ought to be worth a bit of gold to sell, so I am sure that it will surface eventually".

"You intend to use it to track down the ones that stole it?", Cedric guessed.

"No, the ones that did this are far too clever to ever be caught by something like that, but I still want the casket returned to me nonetheless", Lord Commander Mercury corrected him, "once you have been properly fed and have rested and had a change of clothes, I want you to go back to Commander Seras and tell him of what I have said. Oh, and tell him that if he tries to send a proxy to receive punishment in his stead ever again, then I will have him stripped of his command before the night is over".

"Yes, I understand, my lord", Cedric said with a sigh of relief and made a bow before heading for the exit, but before he left, he heard the lord commander shouting, "Break-time is over folks! Someone, get me the next weapon; an axe with a buckler this time!"

Loivissa POV
It had been nearly two weeks since they had captured the iron casket, but they had yet to see what was inside of it. After fleeing the scene on Ziruvit, they had hightailed it directly back to Carvahall, where they had stopped for only long enough for Ziruvit to get a few hours of rest while they procured the supplies necessary for the remainder of their trip.

They had not been able to open the casket while there, and certainly could not leave it either, so Ziruvit had had to continue carrying the heavy thing all the way back to their headquarters. After they had gotten back and had told of Vanir's valiant sacrifice, Dweyrn had immediately set to work on opening the casket.

That had been several days ago, but the female dwarven rider had promised them all at breakfast today that she would finish with the last lock around noon, unless anything unexpected happened. So far though, work seemed to be progressing quite smoothly.

"…And that should be the last one", Dweyrn said happily, as a clicking sound rang from the last of the casket's locks, which made everyone wake up from their various activities to pass time and gather around the casket.

"Do we want to know from where you learned the craft of cracking open locks, dwarf?", Lord Tahu commented.

"You said it yourself, elf. I am a dwarf; stone forms my flesh and metal runs in my veins", Dweyrn shot back with a grin, while she slowly opened the lid, "unlike you elves, who seem to have nothing but trees and dirt in your heads".

For some reason, it comforted Loivissa to know that even after hell had frozen over, the rivalry between dwarves and elves would be constant, but as a leader, she could not allow for it to continue, so she quickly ordered the two to shut up and get on with opening the lid.

As Dweyrn slowly but surely opened the lid, Loivissa could feel her excitement and curiosity spike at what lay inside this casket that had been so valuable, and which had cost them so much to get. Her imagination led her from imagining a sceptre that could lay waste to entire armies, to a series of tomes that contained forbidden knowledge.

Finally, the lid was opened and a collective huff of surprise came from everyone. Inside the iron casket, which had thick iron sides, a beautiful weapon was placed within the protective confines of green silky cloth.

The weapon was an elegantly made elven sword with a slender bluish blade, a red-metalled curved crossguard that ended in tips and a hilt woven with what looked to be the leather of an animal that she had never heard of before.

"That is it!? Is THIS what we risked so much to get?!", Lord Tahu exclaimed angrily.

"Calm down and tell us what you know of this blade", Evandar tried to calm the agitated former lord of Kirtan.

"It is one of the twelve original dauthdaertya", Lord Tahu explained bitterly, "the name of this one was Loivissa, after the blue lily".

"But is a dauthdaert not exactly what we could use to circumvent any wards and finally have a chance at killing Mercury?", Dweyrn asked.

"Not with this one, we cannot, as you would all know if you paid any attention to the missing glow", Lord Tahu continued, "after The Dragon War, all dauthdaertya were either destroyed or lost, but a few of them were simply rendered completely inert and exhibited as a reminder of our dark past. I remember seeing this one in the collection of Queen Islanzadi's House".

"So it is completely useless to us then?", Lifael added in.

"I would not say completely useless", Dweyrn commented, as she took the sword from its bed, "it still seems sharp enough, so at the very least, it should serve as well as any other elven blade. After it has been reinforced with fresh enchantments, of course. In fact, I believe that the gods might have foreseen this course of events and decided to purposely grant you this weapon, Loivissa. This sword is your namesake, after all".

As she said the last bit, Dweyrn handed Loivissa the blade with the hilt first, and Loivissa hesitantly grabbed it and held it upright in the air, where she studied the blade. It had stylized elven letters going down the length of the blade, which all seemed strangely like vines with thorns, but other than that and the metal's colour, it seemed just like any other elven sword.

"And what good is a single sword, even one as finely crafted as this one, supposed to do in our struggle?", Lifael questioned, "without its enchantments, this is nothing more than a broken relic of a time long since passed".

That particular comment sparked a whole slew of other outburst from the others, and the discussion of what they were to do now, continued on for quite some time. Past mistakes and errors were brought up, and at one point, Lifael tried to claim that it was he that rightfully should be the leader, since he had been the higher ranked rider.

Her brother had stopped that particular line of thought with a simple statement that if they went after that, then he should be the leader, and as the ranking member, he supported his sister's continued leadership. Dweyrn furthermore pointed out that this was not the dragon rider order, so even if Evandar had not supported her as he had, old ranks still would not have mattered.

It was nice for Loivissa to know that even though she had lost her staunchest supporter, she still held the confidence of Dweyrn, Augms, the Stronghammer clan and now, her brother as well. Though with Dweyrn, she was not so sure of whether the dwarf actually supported her, or if she simply did not want Lifael to lead them.

Eventually though, they managed to get the discussion back on track in regards to what they should do with this broken relic. Lifael mentioned selling it, but none of those present would even consider the option, though for varying reasons.

"What really bugs me is why he would use such tact and cunning to get something as useless as this out without anyone knowing", Lifael suddenly mused, "I mean, from what I heard of how it originally went during the invasion, he did not exactly spend much thought in worrying about what everyone thought of him when he stole the sword of Gilderien the Wise, so why take such care with this one?"

"Back then, no one could have cared less if he had stolen the entire royal treasury", Evandar pointed out, "this time however, he has to worry about public opinion, especially after the Eldunarya Massacre".

"It would make sense, considering that he is trying to stabilize his conquests", Loivissa publically agreed with her brother and put the sword back down on its green silky bed, "but for now, I think that everyone should get some rest to calm down, before we decide on any new courses of action".

A general chorus of agreements was heard from the other members, and it was not long after that each of them had retired completely to their own rooms to relax after the worries of the last two weeks.

Later that night, after she was sure that everyone had gone to sleep, Loivissa returned to the room with the still opened casket. After checking that no one was walking the halls, she closed the door and removed both the sword and the green cloth from the casket and placed them beside it.

Nervously, and with her heart stuck in her throat, Loivissa continued to slowly but surely check the sides of the casket to check whether there were any places that were hollow. What Lifael had said had sparked the idea in her that perhaps, the broken dauthdaert had been a decoy as well.

The minutes felt like hours as she slowly but surely went over every nook and cranny of the casket until finally, a dull sound was heard in one corner of the casket. It was with trembling fingers that Loivissa let her bare hand run over the cool metal, until she finally found a small discrepancy in it, which she quickly pressed on.

Clack, it said, as a small square metal plate loosened itself from the rest of the casket.

Now, what secrets are you hiding?, Loivissa mused as she stuck her hand inside the hole, where her fingers connected with something small and round.

When she drew it out to see what it was, it turned out to be a ring made entirely of lapis lazuli. It was formed as two snake-like dragons, which twisted their elongated bodies around each other over the entire expanse of the ring.

As she turned it around to see the heads of the strange dragons, Loivissa saw that one of them seemed to be carved like it was licking the other, while the other was in the midst of devouring the tale of the first dragon.

What a strange ring, she mused as she began examining whether it had any enchantments placed upon it.

She found a few ones that she recognized as protecting the wearer against all kinds of harm, but quite a few of them also seemed to be designed to protect the wearer against the effects of spirits and shades, as well as the destructive effects of the deaths of the latter.

All in all, the enchantments of the ring definitely made it quite valuable, but mostly if you were planning on fighting spirits and shades. Loivissa could not get her head around exactly why Mercury had wanted this so badly, but whatever his reasons were, she was glad that she had been able to foil them.

Whether it was this euphoria or another unknown impulse that made her do it, Loivissa decided to put on the ring. She found that the finger that it fit best on was her right hand's ring finger, where it slipped on without a hitch.

Though she tried to give herself multiple reasons for why it was not necessary to tell the others of the ring, they all sounded more and more vague and obscure the longer she went on. In the end, she acknowledged that it was because she simply did not want to tell them. It was as if having this one secret, this one precious secret, could maintain her grip on her leadership if they started to turn against her again.

We cannot use it against him anyway, so it does not concern them, Loivissa rationalized as she put the metal plate back and laid the green cloth and sword back in the way that she had found them in, if it ever becomes necessary for them to know, I will tell them.

It was with these thoughts that Loivissa went back to her room, where she undressed, but kept the ring on, and went to bed to get some much needed rest.