Bloodflowers Bloom (The Astral Wanderer Book 2), D'Artagnan Rey [essential reading .txt] 📗

It would not have seemed obvious to most but the small smile on his lips became a wider, eerie grin although his body language revealed next to nothing. Still, the haughty air of the lord seemed to vanish, his poise seemed cold, and his shifting eyes seemed to change reflexively to their darker shade.

“Because I find something rather interesting about this anomaly and potentially, there is much to gain from it as well.” His nonchalant tone vanished and was replaced by a frosty tone, and the way he spoke made every word sound like liquid pouring from his mouth. Farah, who had stood silently beside him all this time, flinched slightly at his change in demeanor. “I believe this anomaly is exactly that—an anomaly or an enigma, something that shouldn’t be and we don’t yet truly understand.” He finished his drink and placed the empty glass on the table. He settled his elbows on the desk, intertwined his fingers, and rested his chin on them. “You Templars, as an order, have more leniency than most. I wish to make use of that. From what I understand, you are rather knowledgeable about particular items of…a cursed disposition.”

Devol stared at him, surprised that he knew of malefics. And if he read him right, if he knew of malefics and what they could do, he seemed to want to use them.

“If I am right that something is channeling this power or even creating it, I would like to have it in my possession. I know that is not in the mission details themselves, but consider this a personal request to you. Should you be interested, I can pay you quite—"

“I can’t promise anything,” Wulfsun interrupted and his gaze fixed icily on the lord. “I can’t say I know what you are getting at, but if something is controlling this mess, it needs to be destroyed. Hells, from what I understand, that may be the only way to stop this anomaly, dark spot, or whatever the hells it is. We’re here to do exactly that, not get you a new trinket.”

The light from the office's windows dimmed as the sun fell slowly from the sky and cast a dusky light on the group. The lord frowned briefly but shrugged and leaned back. “I can certainly understand that. It’s a pity, but I think it might have turned out to be a bother anyway.” He looked at the group, noticed their majestics, and pointed them out. “Do you use them well?” he asked with a smirk.

“Yes,” the Templar replied. “We will find out what this dark spot is and if we can stop it, we will.”

Maximillian nodded and motioned to the woman beside him. “Farah shall accompany you. She is highly skilled in swordsmanship and the use of light magic. And, of course, if you feel the need to have backup, any of the guardsman wearing red-and-gold armbands are under my employ. Simply tell them to accompany you under my authority.”

“Again we appreciate it, but that second part won’t be necessary,” Wulfsun stated and nodded at Farah. “Having light magic could be of use, though.” She nodded in reply.

The lord leaned back in his chair and studied the group in a careless way. “Then I wish you the best of luck. If you accept this mission, take the carriage to the site. They already await you.” He placed a hand over his heart. “Oh, and if you fail and sadly pass on from this world, I promise you a beautiful funeral.” This earned mixed reactions in the room and Devol felt more ill around this lord than at the possibility of facing the anomaly.

“What a kind gesture,” the Templar said gruffly, finished the cigar, and stamped it out as he stood “Consider this my acceptance and again, that last part won’t be needed.”

Maximillian raised his hands and clapped three times. A gray-haired, white-suited servant or perhaps bodyguard given his size entered the office quickly enough to indicate that he’d stood outside the door. He walked to Maximillian's side and produced a small book—a journal, it seemed—and handed it to Wulfsun, who began to flip through the pages. “Feel free to read that whenever you please. It contains a few notes, pictures, and the like of what we know so far. Do what you need to do but I do have a request.” The Templar looked up from the book and raised an eyebrow. “If you do find yourself overwhelmed, try to make it to the main site alive. Even if you expire, we could probably learn much from the autopsy.”

“Are you joking?” Jazai’s growled tone was so low the man fortunately didn’t hear him.

“We’ll keep it in mind, your lordship.” Their leader looked at the youngsters. “You know the stakes now. Do you still wish to continue?”

The three friends nodded and stood close together. Wulfsun began to walk out of the office and Devol turned to follow. “Oh, and you—the one from Monleans!” Maximillian called. The boy turned to see he still wore his chilly smile. “I hope I can have your vote next year. I hope to see you again.”

He merely nodded and hurried to catch up to the others. Honestly, he hoped to never see this man again.

Chapter Twenty-One

The cobalt-fueled carriage hovered only a few inches above the road. They had left the city of Levirei far behind them and the conveyance was taking them to the dark spot site. Their arrival was only several minutes away. Inside the carriage, the group examined the journal with the information Maximillian’s employees had gathered thus far on the anomaly.

It provided minimal details, unfortunately. Almost anyone who ventured inside—even protected by exotics, enchanted gear, and wards—would either not return or came back mentally scarred. Their only communication seemed to be yells and scattered mumblings of darkness and monsters. When they had been healed or calmed, which usually took days, they could barely recall anything from within the ebon space they had ventured into.

Devol looked at