Daughters and Sons of the Horned Rat,
I'd like to tell you how really sorry I am, I've fallen behind the pace I've set for myself. The fact is that the past few weeks have been very long. My work is more and more difficult, the situation in terms of employees, atmosphere and means has deteriorated, and it won't get better. So I try to spend time with my family and friends, go for a walk to relax, or let off steam on video games, which means that the writing has slowed down a bit.
I'll try to maintain a steady pace. I understand you can be a bit frustrated when you see the publications become more spacey. Above all, don't hesitate to send me feedback, positive or negative, provided it is constructive, or to ask questions. I feel like I'm getting less reviews than with The Enfant Terrible. And I would be happy to answer them. Also, be sure to check out the DeviantArt ChildrenOfPsody page, or even offer me your drawings – the best ones may even become canonical, like the Pixpins' painting that gave Schwanlin Finston her true face.
Thank you all for your understanding. I invite you to taste this new chapter, hoping to be able to serve you the next ones without making you wait too long.
Thank you for your loyalty. Long live Prince Steiner, and Glory to the Horned Rat!
The wind was blowing, taking with it the first petals of the cherry blossoms. The weather was splendid, the sun at its highest point. The air was heating up and heralded a summer that promised to be radiant. The people of Vereinbarung got used to the gentle warmth of this breeze from the Black Gulf, spotted at the west. It was market day, and the streets were full of activity. The large Karl Franz square, in particular, offered a particularly lively spectacle, twice a week. The children played chasing themselves or chasing after the hens, geese and sheep, the adults made their purchases, and the merchants who had just returned to work after their dinner recharged their stalls.
Three young common women, their arms laden with baskets full of fruit and vegetables, were joking. The eldest talked about her husband's awkwardness, too dullard to be in a position of strength at night, in bed. The second recounted the last stupidity of his young son who had seen fit to help his father by trying to colour the dog with the paint intended to be brushed on the front door. The third, a little dreamy, confided that a young shopping boy had caught her attention. Should she respond to his advances? Surely, replied the oldest, herself married for a dozen years.
The second was going to add a dirty little joke, but something suddenly caught her eye. Her gaze focused on a shape that was slowly advancing in their direction. Her two friends in turn distinguished the odd silhouette to say the least.
Heads swivelled, voices gradually silenced, the atmosphere suddenly seemed much cooler.
The regular snapping of the horse's hoofs ricocheted off the walls of the tall houses which demarcated the public square. It was a superb chestnut stallion, distinguished, in excellent physical condition. On its back, installed on the saddle carved with exceptional care, a great figure was holding the reins. Its face couldn't be seen by anyone, because it was hidden under a hood of tanned leather, at most its thin and beardless chin. However, it looked very tall and thin. The murmurs around it became more worried when the inhabitants of Steinerburg saw that it was not alone on the mount. Indeed, a Skaven with dark coat was lying on the rump of the horse, completely naked, with strong handcuffs on the wrists and ankles, and a canvas bag on the head.
Without the slightest consideration for the inhabitants of Steinerburg, the stranger advanced, and passed the market place. He spotted a small lane between two blocks away. He stopped his horse there. He listened, and only heard a few rumours in the distance. He turned on his saddle, leaned towards his "passenger", and murmured in queekish:
- We're almost there. Continue to be very still-wise, and you may not suffer.
The prisoner stirred, and uttered a small groan of terror. The man gave a satisfied sneer. He heeled his horse.
He arrived at the Chalice Quarter. This place brought together the main temples of Steinerburg. In the Rat Kingdom, the same gods were prayed as in the Empire, but only the main Human deities had their temples. Six of them were thus privileged:
First, the traveller in search of spirituality was greeted by the temple of Shallya. This huge, white-stone-crafted building was sober, like the goddess it honoured. However, this construction had a large dormitory, separate cells for the dozen priestesses who stayed there permanently – usually the single ones, the married temple members had the option of living in a purpose-built building two blocks away. Most often, the unfortunate people who needed the services of this temple came from the Hammer Quarter, where the craftsmen worked and could have an accident, or they came from the Dove Quarter, more modest and less well attended. The poorest and the ailing ones didn't dare to leave the Mousetrap, but those who braved this fear were not forced to cross the whole Chalice. In front of the temple was a large fountain blessed by the Matriarch of Shallya, an old woman named Mother Luana. This equipment had a reputation for always providing clean water.
The second god to receive recognition from the people of Vereinbarung was Morr. His temple and large garden were opposite the Shallya temple. Life and death are always closely linked, and the lives that died out in the house of the goddess of Compassion quickly found refuge in the immense protected park which collected the carnal envelopes. The building was even more austere than the Temple of Shallya. It was also darker, built with dark stones, with a roof covered with black slate. Few priests occupied this medium-sized building, directed with coldness and precision by the prior Wenceslas.
Taal and Rhya, the famous couple of gods affiliated with Nature and its forces, occupied a special place in the Chalice Quarter. In truth, they were the gods worshiped by the majority of the inhabitants of the Rat Kingdom. Farmers, stockbreeders, trackers... all the professions that approached the countryside, in short. Ludwig Steiner was himself from Talabheim, the city of the Empire where the largest known temple dedicated to these two deities was located. Even though he himself swore more by Verena, he had chosen to favour the most worshiped by the people gods. The topography of the Chalice Quarter had this gigantic building as its central point; the Temple of Taal and Rhya even had a large stone wall, and a closed-circuit river surrounded the area. There was a grove of trees within the grounds of this area where priests and priestesses could practice their rites, a menagerie, a flower garden with incredible colours and scents. The temple itself was imposing, its tall towers were covered with climbing plants. Its bell tower, in particular, almost disappeared under a sprawling mass of branches.
In the Libra Quarter, the richest district of the city where the Steiner domain was spotted, the pilgrim could pay homage to Verena, the goddess of Justice and Truth. The Grand Tribunal acted as a temple, as was customary, and all cases, from the mildest to the most serious, could be resolved there. The stranger knew that this temple sheltered some members of the sect of the Lorekeepers, among others the provost Tomas. The Lorekeepers gathered all the knowledge they could, and no knowledge was to be deliberately destroyed. This sometimes involved taking the risk of preserving dangerous, corrupted by Chaos, artefacts. A rather painful memory came back in memory of the hooded man, but it hardly stayed there. This scar, although still present in his mind, had not bothered him for a long time.
There remained a god who didn't have the same recognition as the others in Vereinbarung. It was Sigmar, the youngest god of the whole Human pantheon. The priests of Sigmar were known to be the armed arm of the gods against any heretic and impious creature. Orcs, Mutants, Goblins were sworn enemies for the First Emperor who became the Last God. Sigmar was renowned for his extremism. As much as Ulric was detached from mortal affairs, preferring just to indulge in the brutality of combat, the sacred scriptures presented Sigmar Heldenhammer as a severe and intolerant god. The moderate worshippers tried to see Sigmar as a defender, a bulwark against all threats, but the most zealous were fanatics ready to exterminate without judgment or hesitation anything that seemed a little heretical to them.
It was therefore hardly conceivable to have Sigmarites in a kingdom where Humans and Skaven lived together. However, to avoid upsetting Emperor Karl Franz, and out of respect for the Humans who had followed him, Prince Ludwig had agreed to have a small building restored to dedicate it to Sigmar in the Hammer Quarter, near the military barracks. However, he had imposed the firm condition for his priests never to consider ratmen as inferior to Humans. So far, there had been no problem, but no Skaven had entered this order yet.
Other gods like Myrmidia, Ulric, Manann or Ranald were regularly invoked, but none had an official temple. Which was normal for Ranald, the god of thieves. There was most likely a secret temple in every major city of Vereinbarung. Indeed, bandit networks existed everywhere, including and especially in the renegade kingdoms.
The foreigner did not need to go very far into the district. He approached the temple of Shallya. He saw three figures in front of the wide-open doors: two priestesses dressed with the "doves" white dress, a red-haired one and a blonde, and a little, blond boy aged a handful of seasons. When he turned towards the building, he saw the red-haired priestess pushing the child inside the building, and his ear heard her whisper: "Jehan, go wait for me in the refectory. Hurry up!" He couldn't suppress an ironic pout. He visibly inspired distrust, and he didn't mind. Without stepping out of his mount, he nodded politely and spoke in a clear, melodious voice.
- Good afternoon, my sisters.
The blonde priestess had a lightly-tight smirked.
- Welcome to the temple of the Goddess Shallya! I'm Sister Astrid, and here is Sister Judy!
Sister Judy Hoffnung had been back from Hoffnungshügel with the last orphans of the last Harvest, and had returned to her place at the Steinerburg temple. She had found her husband and their child, not without emotion.
- Do I feel like I've seen you before, sir? murmured the red-haired woman.
- You do, replied the hooded figure calmly. A few years ago, I came to visit the Prince. I have known him for years, my sister. No doubt you saw me at that time?
- It's quite possible. So, what can we do for you?
- I came for Prior Romulus. I have to recalibrate his balance.
- Excuse me? asked Sister Astrid.
Sister Judy's reaction was quite different.
- Of course! Copper trays always need a blow of wax!
- Should I also dust the weights?
- Absolutely, the ink on the parchment has just dried.
The two interlocutors nodded, and the hooded stranger asked:
- So, can I see him?
- You won't here, sir. He's working with Master Mage Prospero, at the Prince's mansion. You'll have to go there.
- I know the way. My sisters, I salute you.
Then he turned his horse around, and the mount left the place and set off at a walk towards the Libra Quarter.
Once disappeared from their field of vision, Sister Astrid asked Sister Judy:
- You really know this individual?
- I do, well... From a distance.
- And you managed to recognize him despite the time passed and the hood?
- It's precisely thanks to the hood. If I'm not mistaken, he's a Bright College Mage.
The blonde girl had a little shiver.
- He scares me a little…
- If this character is the one I'm thinking of, then luckily you don't know his story. There you would be afraid.
- There was something wrong with him. His size, his build, that voice… He looked physically young, but with a much longer-lived experience in the way he stood and spoke.
- No wonder, he must have been in existence for over a century.
- A century? But no Human could live so long without being a ruin!
- I didn't say he's a Human, Sister Astrid. Have you never seen an Elf?
The girl's eyes widened.
- An Elf?
- I'm surprised you haven't seen him before, by the way. You have lived in the Rat Kingdom for longer than me, you should have crossed him?
- Must we believe that Shallya considered that it was not important for my mission to be in contact with this individual?
- I guess it's a way of consider things.
- By the way, what did this gibberish mean?
- Gibberish? Ah, yes! Our little chitchat? Oh, nothing at all. It is a mean for the Lorekeepers of recognizing themselves. A succession of four sentences which cannot be pronounced by chance, and sufficiently abstruse to confuse those who do not know them.
- Oh, I see. A tit for tat response therefore means that you are both part of this Order?
- Yes, it was even thanks to the Lorekeepers that I have been involved in the draft constitution of the Rat Kingdom of the Rats.
- Have you seen? He was transporting a prisoner.
- I have, but I learned to see only what concerns me.
- Um... I hope this stranger doesn't bring misfortune with him.
Sister Judy didn't answer, but she couldn't help thinking the same thing.
The stranger headed slowly but surely to the top of the hill. As he got closer to his goal, the hooded character appreciated the change of architecture. He went up streets whose houses were getting bigger, more and more worked and solid. The horseshoes of the horse slammed, the cobblestones replaced the clay under its hooves.
They should still think about opening Colleges of Magic here...
It was something that cruelly lacked in a worthy city, in the spirit of the Elf. He hadn't actually seen any construction that came close or far to a school of magic. Now, if Master Mage Prospero Steiner was known as the only Skaven able to use magic, could there be Humans with such dispositions? What if other Skaven prove to be able? So many questions he intended to share with the Prince.
Finally, when he arrived at the large gate which demarcated the Libra Quarter, the man stopped his mount, and spoke directly to the guards in a clear voice.
- Greetings, gentlemen.
The two soldiers immediately felt uneasy, moved by a bad feeling.
- What do you want, citizen?
- I would like to see Prior Romulus.
- He must be at Shallya temple.
- I'm coming from, I was assured that he was working with his Excellency the Master Mage this day.
- Who are you? replied the other one.
Without saying a word, the individual held out his right hand and prepared to remove his glove. The two guards immediately stepped back, harquebus pointing towards the visitor. The latter stopped, and whispered with a small smile:
- Don't worry, I'm just showing you an official seal that her holiness the High Priestess Marieka van der Perssen of the Temple of Verena in Altdorf entrusted to me.
He gently pulled the leather glove, and presented his finger. The first guard stepped forward, narrowed his eyes, and stared at the ring, and the small carved metal disc that adorned it.
- This is rightly Verena's seal. Have I never seen you before, around here?
When he looked up, he could see the stranger's eyes. They sparkled with a purple glow. The man on horseback ran his hand through his hair. For a moment, the guard thought he saw a lock of hair under the hood fabric reflecting the sunlight with an orange glow, like a piece of coppery silk.
The other guard called:
- Pat!
A third, younger man-in-arms immediately arrived.
- Fetch Prior Romulus. This gentleman says he is with the Master Mage. Move on!
The sine blade whistled through the air and fell on the training dummy. Once, twice, three times. At the head, then on the right side, then in the left leg.
- It must have hurt a lot! Bianka's voice quipped.
Sigmund lowered his trusty sword and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. He turned to his sister who was watching him training, sitting on a fence.
- Your strikes are precise, too. You always manage to type in the same places. Like what, you are really applied, when you don't lose your head because of Black Hunger.
The young ratman approached the girl, picked up a water skin on a crate, and took a few sips. Then he whispered quietly:
- You haven't seen anything yet, sister.
He took a deep breath, then turned, sending his arm forward, like a whip. Heart of Unicorn whipped through the air and whipped right into the torso of the mannequin. Again, he looked at Bianka. She had lost all indifference. She frankly applauded.
- Well done, well done!
- You look cute when you smile.
Bianka stopped immediately, and made a face.
- You idiot! Still, you're really good!
The young ratman drew his sword from the mannequin.
- Say, how would you like to fight as well as I do?
- What? You're kidding! replied the ratgirl in a pinched tone.
- I definitively don't. If you want, I can give you some advice, so you know at least how to grip a weapon.
She dropped from the barrier, and adjusted her dress.
- Oh, that wouldn't be right.
- What do you mean?
- A well-bred girl of my rank doesn't roll in this mud.
- Marjan is high ranked, too, and that doesn't prevent her from knowing how to fight. It is not because you are a girl that you should stay in your library or on your loom!
Bianka bit her lower lip.
- Frankly, what would I look like?
- A strong, handsome woman. A woman who knows how to fight can be very beautiful. Have you ever thought of attracting boys?
- Oh, why you big...
They laughed together. Sigmund looked at his sister from head to toe and added:
- You will have to be dressed for that. No way I'm training you with this outfit.
- Ha! Do you see me half naked like strigany acrobats? Ah, sure, to entice the boys...
- No, rather with practical and solid clothes which protect well. Look at Marjan: when she wears her armour with her helmet, there's no way to tell the difference with a man!
- Me, with an armour? How funny you are! How do you want me to stand with dozens of pounds on my back?
- There are padded leather clothes. I'm sure it would suit you perfectly!
Bianka pouted reflexively.
- After all... maybe I should know how to defend myself? The next time an Eshin assassin tries to enter our house...
The Black Skaven smiled satisfied. He was going to get a wooden sword from the rack when he heard a servant calling him.
- Master Sigmund?
- Yeah, Andreas?
- Your father, as well as his Highness the Prince, require your presence in the laboratory.
- Oh, right.
He turned to Bianka. His sister gave a little shoulder movement.
- Next time, perhaps, brave warrior? In the meantime, maybe I should sew for myself more… suitable clothes?
- Great idea, approved the great Black Skaven.
He sheathed his sword, and strode briskly toward his father's laboratory.
When he entered the small building, he saw Psody and Steiner talking to a third person he had never seen before. It was a certainty for him, because he could never have forgotten a person with such features.
Before him stood a man, tall, so tall, taller than his grandfather. He was unusually thin, without appearing rickety or sick. On the contrary, he seemed to be in great shape. He wore a tunic made of precious fabrics abundantly decorated with golden threads, polished copper nails, leather straps, and patterns which regularly returned a symbol that the ratman couldn't identify – a kind of stylized key with a rounded bit. His pants were matching, and his boots were impeccably waxed.
- Ah, there you are! This is my second grandson, Sigmund. I would entrust my life to him without the slightest hesitation. My child, I present to you Master Brisingr Steadyhand.
Master Brisingr Steadyhand bowed with a small wave of the hand. His movements were precise and distinguished, his fingers supple and graceful. He looked up, and his amethyst eyes held the wary look of the Black Skaven. What troubled most the latter was the stranger's hair. They were a fiery red. Indeed, the word was not too strong. More or less vivid reflections seemed to run through the guest's dishevelled mane, and the wicks moved slightly on their own, like the flames of a chimney fire.
- Aren't you from here? ventured to ask Sigmund.
- He isn't, replied his grandfather. Our friend lives in Altdorf, but he was born on the island of Ulthuan, the land of the High Elves.
It was then that Sigmund spotted the individual's ears, slightly pointed. No more doubt, this man was not human. Psody continued:
- Master Steadyhand is Magister for the College of Fire, it is the school of magic where people learn to channel-use the wind of Aqshy.
- He is an expert in whom I have absolute confidence, added the Prince. He is one of the few people who found and brought your mother to me, years ago.
- Oh… nice to meet you, whispered Sigmund, less and less comfortable.
- He came to bring some documents to Romulus, which will help me write-compose an enchantment to purify the soil of the Nichetti estate, explained the White Skaven.
- And I'm also taking this opportunity to bring you a present, young man.
At these words, Sigmund frankly raised his eyebrows. For the first time, he had just heard the voice of the Elf. It was a soft, light, melodious, almost singing tone. In fact, it perfectly fitted with the character's grace. Even without being Human or Elf himself, the Black Skaven understood that he had before him someone whose physiognomy would undoubtedly disturb more than one person sensitive to the beauty of the body. This didn't reassure him, he had heard of the beauty that could hide the worst darkness, like that of the slaves of Slaanesh.
Psody stepped back to a corner of the laboratory, toward a curtain. The curtain hid a small cubbyhole where he used to store his instruments and his parchment sheets. Sigmund felt his heart tense when he realized something else: the sight of the Elf had distracted him so far, but he had a characteristic odour in the room. A smell that is both familiar and unpleasant. The sliding of the wooden rings on the curtain rod re-focused his attention on his father.
The White Skaven had drawn the curtain, and revealed the cubbyhole, as well as a stool on which sat a completely naked Skaven, handcuffed to the wrists and ankles, with a canvas bag that covered his head.
He's the one who stinks so!
The Elf approached the prisoner.
- I found him devouring the carcass of a cow. He couldn't run very far, considering all the meat he had in his stomach.
And he snatched the bag with a quick gesture. Sigmund felt his blood catch on in his veins when he recognized Larn's face. The latter opened wide, terrified eyes, and tried to scream. The chain gag stuck in his mouth prevented him from doing so, he could just make a muffled roar.
- You!
Sigmund raised his hands, his nails stretched out like claws, and advanced with a nervous step towards the Feral Skaven. Immediately, Brisingr raised his hand, and a sword with a blade of fire shot out in a crackling fire noise. The Black Skaven jumped back, arms crossed in front of his face.
Without losing his composure, the Elf murmured in a soft voice:
- Your Highness, please forgive my audacity, but I prefer to prevent an unfortunate accident rather than having to repair the damage, if it is even possible.
- You are absolved, Steadyhand. In truth, I wanted to avoid telling you, but my grandson has just one small flaw: he tends to favor action over reflection.
The Elf replied with a small nod, then the fiery sword vanished in a snap. Sigmund caught his breath, and felt shame rise to his cheeks. He wanted to diversion by refocusing the conversation on the miserable prisoner.
- Did you have to follow him for a long time?
- It didn't take me more than half a day to find this fugitive. Oh, it's part of my Magister job; I am trained to track down every prey the Bright College is looking for. I fight Chaos in all of its forms, but when a friend asks me for a hand, I can give it to him. This one didn't pose me any problem, I knew adversaries much more frightening.
- Are you a professional hunter?
- My game is everything that threatens the Empire and its allies, my hunting ground has no limits. I would go to the end of Naggaroth to find my target.
Brisingr's mouth wrinkled in a strange little smile. The discomfort of the Black Skaven increased a notch. His grandfather's voice make his ear swing.
- Did you have to face his accomplices, Master Steadyhand?
- No need to worry about this, your Highness: it hasn't had time to find other individuals of its burrow. Its kindred must have abandoned it.
- And... was there damage-casualties?
- I'm afraid, Psody. Several heads of cattle were massacred, a sack of wheat grains soiled, one of the farmhands was taken a nasty blow, and I don't mention the moral prejudice... I gave the farmer a hundred gold crowns of compensation.
- Do you know what that means, Sigmund?
The Black Skaven bowed his head.
- Yes, Father. Master Steadyhand, I'll give you back this money later.
- I expected nothing less from you.
- Um... Father, can I speak to you in private?
The White Skaven shot a questioning look at the Elf, who just shrugged. The two Skaven found themselves in the park.
- How did he find Larn so easily?
- He's very good at hunting unwanted people. His specialty is magical-magical creatures. This is not the case for this one, but as I expected, it lacked caution.
- Yes, but still! It was such a good coincidence!
Psody gave a little annoyed sigh.
- In fact, as soon as we captured Larn, I immediately sent him a missive through Brother Tomas. Brisingr Steadyhand is also a member of the Order of the Lorekeepers. I asked him to follow you discreetly to ensure that you accomplish your mission, while specifying to him in which direction you were gone-gone, so that he finds you directly.
Sigmund felt a violent whip in his spinal cord.
- Did you get this Elf to follow me?
- I did.
- You didn't trust me!
- I trusted you by letting you take Larn! Brisingr would have returned without showing to you if you had been all the way, and I would have greeted him normally. Or else, he would have helped you if Larn's accomplices were too many for you. But you failed, and you let an Eshin run away! Fortunately, this Elf was there, he minimized the damage! Right, have you finished with questions?
- Yes.
- Very well. Now go get two guards. You're going to order them to put-throw Larn to the dungeon, where he will stay until the day he is beheaded publicly.
The White Skaven then raised an authoritarian index towards his son.
- And I strictly forbid you to approach him. I don't want you to be less than a hundred yards from him until his execution. If you ever thought of disobeying me, you'd regret it! You understand?
Sigmund didn't answer, he just grunted in his beard.
- Do you understand? articulated Psody, two tones louder.
- Yes, Father, I understand! Right! Me not approach small vermin before execution! Very clear-limpid! Go get guards!
The Black Skaven left towards the main residence with a furious step.
In the evening, the Prince invited Brisingr Steadyhand to his table for supper. The Magister was thus presented to the sisters of Sigmund. Gabriel, once again, was far too scared to dare to go down to the same floor as the newcomer, and was not present.
- In truth, it is really very pleasant to see two peoples so dissimilar build a common history hand in hand. I feel like I'm seeing a tremendous development from what we started with Heike years ago.
- It may not be that simple, then observed the Prince. The Rat Kingdom has been in place for six years now, and we have recently observed tensions between Humans and Skaven. We are working to resolve communication issues, but we will have to remain vigilant.
- It will indeed be necessary to ensure that these "communication issues" do not gain too much scale to become out of control. And since we are talking about "control", Your Highness, I would like to draw your attention to magical questions.
- That is to say, Steadyhand?
The Magister took his inspiration, and explained in one go:
- Your kingdom seems to be developing well, and Humans like Skaven seem to live there harmoniously, except for the little worries you just mentioned. But since my arrival, I noticed that if the gods have their house well, it is not the same for people who can perceive and tame the winds of Magic. All along my way to you, I have regularly felt the presence of these winds, they blow well within your borders. And so, I'm pretty sure there are people who can handle these energies. It's mathematical.
- You can be frankly sure, my friend, replied the Prince. Learn that a couple of Skaven came to see my son a few days ago. They introduced him to their firstborn. The baby had white fur and two small horns.
- Oh… the characteristic features of the Skaven who don't need warpstone to tame the winds of Warp!
- Exactly. If there was one, there will probably be others, and I'm not talking about, please note, my fellow Human beings who could also become mages!
- The child you are talking about... is it a boy?
- Yes.
- Um... too bad, I would have been curious to see a girl with the characteristics of the White Skaven.
- Patience, this is only the first one. Will there be others, maybe fair sex?
- In the meantime, I'm asking you, your Majesty: do you plan to open colleges?
- It's not a priority yet, but I think about it more and more regularly. I was able to hire the services of a druid to teach Psody the magic of Ghyran, but for an entire kingdom, that won't be sufficient. I should write a letter to Emperor Karl Franz to get his agreement. Maybe he would agree to send me some volunteer mages?
- If I support your request to him, it will be a certainty, your Highness.
As they finished the dessert, Psody stood up.
- If you allow me, I'm going to bed. The day was long-long. Besides, tomorrow I have to get up early. Long work awaits us, Master Steadyhand.
- I wish you to have a good night, my friend.
The White Skaven left the dining room without adding a word. The tall Human yawned.
- I will also go. The gods forgive me, but with age, I tire faster.
And the Prince went out in his turn. Isolde had retained the "the gods forgive me", and this expression awoke in her a furious surge of curiosity. She asked without hesitation:
- And what god you use to pray, Master Mage?
This unsubtle interrogation did not fail to annoy Heike.
- Come on, Isolde! You shouldn't ask that kind of question! It's very rude!
Isolde jumped, and remained frozen, surprised by the brutal raising of her mother's tone. She realized that the matter was serious when she saw her asking the magician, all confused:
- Please, Master Steadyhand, forgive my daughter's indiscretion.
Fortunately, the Elf did not seem offended.
- It doesn't matter, little mouse. I appreciate curiosity when it is not tainted with bad feelings. It is true that some people could be angry if you approach this subject in this way, but I know what kind of interlocutor I am dealing with, in this case a child, admittedly a bit direct, but completely innocent.
Brisingr spoke directly to the little girl.
- Remember what your mother just said: there are subjects that not everyone can talk about freely, and religion is one of them. So you have to be sure you are close enough to someone before you question them about it. You understood well?
Isolde nodded nervously. The Elf's smile widened a bit.
- Come on, I can answer your question: I believe in Hoeth. He is the god of knowledge and learning for my people. For magicians, he is also the closest god to magic. Humans know Shallya, Ulric, Verena or Taal, but they have no god that is directly related to magic. You know why?
- Uh… no.
- Because Humans didn't know magic, when they started to hear the voices of their gods. If I'm not mistaken, Sigmar is the youngest Human god. He was such an exceptional man that the gods decided to make him one of them. It was over two thousand five hundred years ago.
- Oh, it's been a long time!
- For you, maybe, and for me too, but for the gods, it's not that long.
The Elf cleared his throat and raised a learned index finger.
"The Elves gods appeared a little time before the Human gods. And since always, the Elves know how to use magic much better than all the other people. It's like that. So humans didn't know how to use magic. And then, one day, there was a very big battle, two hundred years ago. The Emperor of Humans was called Magnus the Pious. He had to face a huge army, constituted with demons, rabid warriors, and fierce monsters. This emperor then asked the Dwarves for help to craft weapons, armours and war machines for him. And he begged the Elves to send in reinforcements. At that time, apart from a few villages in the forests, the Elves did not live in the Empire, but on a large island in the middle of the sea, the island of Ulthuan, where my parents were born. The High Elves, as they are called, did have a small army to send, but most of all, they had magic. The Phoenix King sent a whole troop of magicians. They were led by Archimage Teclis, the greatest magician the Elves had ever known."
The eyes of the captivated by the story little girl shone like a pair of shooting stars. Heike herself was surprised to see the magician tell the story with a conviction that Yavandir Palebough wouldn't have disparaged. Brisingr continued:
- Teclis was so powerful that he was able to summon the greatest storms, to shake the earth, or to make flames rain. They threw themselves into battle alongside the warriors of Humans and Dwarves, all together against the army of Chaos monsters.
- And... who won?
- Humans, of course, without that, you wouldn't be here today, and neither would I. Emperor Magnus understood the usefulness of magic. He asked the Elf mages to stay a while to teach Humans how to use it. This is how they created the Colleges of Magic which are in Altdorf. Each magician who practices the magic of one of the eight Colleges can therefore thank the Elves.
- Even my father? He no longer uses the magic of the Feral Skaven.
- Indeed, Heike intervened. Your father learned to use Jade magic.
- The magic of life... yes, it's better than the Warp. So, magic has only been in the Empire for two hundred years. It's not much compared to the existence of this Empire. And Humans have always viewed Hoeth as an Elf god. They did not want to venerate him, even if they tolerate his presence at their home. I thank him for all that I have been able to accomplish thanks to magic. And that's why I think it's important to open schools of magic here.
- My daughter will guide you to your room, Master Steadyhand. Bianka, can you take our guest to the Poppies room?
- Certainly, Mother.
- I'm going to bed your sister, and... join your father.
- Good night, Mother, good night, Soso!
A few minutes later, the girl-rate finished presenting the bedroom to the Elf.
- If you need anything, pull the cord, a servant will come in the minute.
- Thank you very much, young girl.
Bianka bowed a little, and was about to leave the room, when she heard Brisingr's voice.
- Your parents seem to be doing well, little mouse.
She stopped at once, and turned on her heels. She asked in a pinched tone:
- Yes and so?
- So, I think they're really happy.
- They are happy to be together, Father left for months.
- They are even very happy…
The girl got impatient.
- Could you be clearer instead of speaking in riddles, Master Steadyhand?
- Well, I wouldn't be surprised if, in the next few months, there is a new kid in your family, if you see what I mean, little mouse!
Bianka stepped back and walked through the door, without looking away from Brisingr.
- I do not know you, I have never seen you, and I beg you also to stop speaking so colloquially!
- I'm much older than you, I'm taking birth right.
- Is it a custom of High Elf people to disrespect your host?
- It's a long time since I have ended to be socially a High Elf, my child.
- I've just asked you a simple question, Brisingr Steadyhand: if I go to Ulthuan someday, will I have the right to insult the people who welcome me?
- If you go to Ulthuan someday, at best, the guards won't let you leave your boat. At worst, the Mages will dissect you. High Elves don't like Skaven. In fact, they don't like anyone.
Bianka remained speechless. When she saw Brisingr's little smile lengthen, adrenaline whipped her senses. She reflexively slammed the door, then quickly left the hallway. She clenched her fists.
I feel like I won't appreciate this beanpole!