Chapter 53: The Blind Will See
An attendant opened a glass door, bowing humbly. Induen paid the attendant little heed, ducking through the glass structure and entering the greenhouse proper. The place was incredibly beautiful and well-kept. The plants were bright and colorful, yet they did not block off the marble pathway winding throughout the entire place. A small brook wound its way around, letting off faint babbling sound. Small bugs no bigger than a coin flew about everywhere, letting out small sparks of multi-colored electricity.
Induen looked about the place for a moment, expression indiscernible. After fixing his gold-lined black clothes, he waved away the doorman without a word. The attendant bowed once more and shut the glass door. Induen took a deep breath and exhaled, and then walked through the greenhouse.
The path was lined with plant life unending. Small trees with red knobby fruits, strange black plants that shone with purple dew, or blue vines wrapped around a fence with fruits that might’ve passed as grapes… Induen noticed them, but he did not seem awed with them as one might be. He headed towards the center of the greenhouse.
He came to a central square with little plant life and plenty of space for movement. A grand fountain stood in the center, spouting water five feet in the air. Small streams of water branched off it and ran underneath the marble walkway, eventually forming the brooks that lined the rest of the greenhouse. There was a single table by the fountain. It was pink and fanciful, as were the chairs beside it. Two people sat.
Both were female. One of the two people was dressed just the same as the doorman Induen had just left. The other was a beautiful young woman who wore a white and green gown without much adornment. She sat in a strange chair that had handles and two wheels on the side. A blanket covered her legs, and her eyes were wrapped in a white cloth. She had the same obsidian-colored hair that Induen did.
Induen walked closer quietly with his hands behind his back. As he drew closer, he heard the servant speaking. She was reading from a book. The blind woman sat there quietly, listening intently. Induen waited patiently. Eventually, the servant woman noticed him and stood quickly.
“Ah…” she said, surprised. “Princess Elenore, your brother is here to see you.”
Elenore grabbed the table at once, clearly uneasy. “Who?”
“It’s me, sister,” Induen said warmly, stepping forward with his hand on his chest.
“Induen?” she questioned, face brightening. Her expression quickly returned to neutral as though she was hiding her emotions.
“Yes,” Induen confirmed. “Give us a moment alone,” he said towards the servant, voice considerably colder.
“At once, my Prince,” the servant said prudently, walking away from the marble square quickly.
Induen stayed standing for a moment, and then slid into the chair. His sister waited there, her blindfolded face not quite in the right direction. Induen picked up the book the servant had left. “’The Golden Void,’” he read the title, opening the first page.
“It’s a book about economy,” Elenore answered quickly.
“Diligent as ever,” Induen said, setting down the book. “I missed you. How have you been, Elenore?”
“You don’t care. Why do you ask?” She waved a hand in dismissal and crossed her arms, refusing to turn her face towards him. “I’m a cripple, not a lackwit.”
“Hey,” Induen said in protest. “Hey, hey.” He stood from the chair and moved to her chair, placing his hands gingerly on her arms. “Don’t be like that, El. Father was having me do things. You know I’d visit you every day if I could,” he said, trying to calm her down.
“What things?”
“Dealing with the unrest in the capital, communications with the nobles, gathering the troops, preparing the supplies…” Induen shook her gently. “I promise you I wouldn’t ever avoid you.”
She finally turned her head to look at Induen. “You promise?”
“I promise,” Induen nodded.
She leaned forward and hugged Induen for a few seconds. After she pulled away, she gestured towards the chair. “Sit. Sit,” she repeated insistently.
Induen walked back to his chair and sat down, then crossed his arms across the table.
“At least you come to visit your older sister,” Elenore continued. “To all the other snakes, I’m out of sight, out of mind. It’s because of that finger-eating queen of father’s. She didn’t raise the others right.” She pointed to Induen, her finger a little off from his face. “Babies are like… animals. They’re no different than dogs. Somebody has to teach them right from wrong.”
Induen turned his head away, gazing out at the fountain as it rippled from the waterfalls. “Right,” he agreed. “What have you heard lately?”
“Your half-brother is causing problems,” she said flat-out.
“I know. The royal guards say Orion is—”
“No. Foamspire,” Elenore shook her head. “Have you even been paying attention?”
Induen paused, then leaned in. “What are you talking about?”
“The bastard sold it. He got two hundred and fourteen rose gold magic coins for your little poison apple. Donated fifty coins to House Monticci in light of the snow elf invasion. ‘The Savior of House Monticci,’ the duke is calling him. Rumor has it Argrave’s already betrothed to Nikoletta of Monticci.”
“He… sold it?” Induen repeated, voice low. “Where did you hear all of this?”
“When you’re blind, the other senses get sharper,” Elenore said simply. “What did you think would happen? You killed his mother. That sort of grudge doesn’t go away. And then you slap him around? He’ll never obey.”
“But father—”
“Father’s way of ruling is falling apart,” she interrupted. “If you were still a little kid, I’d give you a good smack.” She shook her head and crossed her legs. “You hate father. I hate him. Everybody hates him, but they’re afraid of him. All it takes to break that fear is one defiance. His days are numbered.”
“But you defied him,” Induen retorted coldly.
“I did. But I was weak, so he gouged out my eyes and cut off my feet. Margrave Reinhardt is not weak.”
Induen flinched away when she mentioned what had happened to her so casually.
“I keep telling you to rein in your impulses. I told you to stop with those weird fetishes of yours—the orphan-making, the sadism. Why don’t you listen?”
“Sis…” Induen lowered his head into his hands. “I just get angry, and…”
“Oh, poor you,” she mocked. “Appreciate that you have the luxury to get angry. That privilege is fading fast, though.”
Induen mulled on her words for a while. “You’re right, El. I’m sorry.”
“An apology. How rich. That’ll mend things, surely,” she laughed.
“I said I was sorry,” Induen repeated. “What more do you want from me?”
“I want you to learn the lesson you need to,” she said harshly. “My people tell me father beat you because of your handling of Margrave Reinhardt. He wanted to curb your impulsivity. At that, at least, he’s right.”
Induen turned his gaze downwards and refused to speak, biting his lip.
“Don’t pout at me. I can practically hear your sulking,” she chastised. “Well, stop being a baby. I think now is the time to start breaking free of father’s influence.”
Induen turned to look at her, indignant gaze replaced by a fierce intensity. He took a deep breath, digesting what she said. “I’ll tell you what I can, but he’s sending me to the Duchy of Elbraille,” Induen told her.
“I know. Father has promised them some minor benefits—lands of the defeated, stipends, et cetera. With Mateth essentially crippled, they’re quite close to the north, and the Duke of Elbraille is a coward who doesn’t wish to be the bulwark against Vasquer. That’s common knowledge. What a lot of people don’t know, however, is that he’s also a henpecked husband.”
Elenore reached underneath the table and retrieved a stack of documents. She set it on the table.
“Obey father, go to Elbraille, and speak to the Duke. Behind the scenes, I’ll arrange one of my agents to set up a meeting between you and the Duchess. She and I have been in contact for some time.”
Induen frowned and took the documents.
“We need to earn their support—for us, not for the king. House Monticci is the weakest it’s been in centuries. Promise the duchess the city. She’ll get her husband in line.”
Induen set down a paper. “Even with ten men manning it, the walls of Mateth won’t fall. The Duchy of Elbraille has no navy, so a siege would be the only way.”
Elenore smiled. “I know of a mercenary on the inside. I might have to surrender a lot of gold, but she’ll do as she’s told. What is strong on the outside is often weak on the other.” She put a hand to her chin.
“Another thing. That Argrave—if what I hear is correct, he’s planning to use the rebels to gain whatever benefit he can… maybe even the throne. A jackal, that one; he’s only nipped at the heels, but he’s opportunistic. I had been ignoring him. That was unwise.”
“Should I nip it in the bud?” Induen pressed.
“No. We missed that chance, and now he’s blooming beautifully. C-rank mage, connections with the snow elves, a relationship with the Tower Master Castro, special privileges within the Order of the Gray Owl, an alliance with the House Monticci… a very prudent man. I’d like to assess things first. I believe we can yet salvage this into an alliance, though his connections with House Monticci may make such a thing difficult…” She turned her head to Induen. “No thanks to you, of course. Idiot.”
“I said I was sorry,” Induen repeated.
“I went through a lot of trouble to get Foamspire, and you spoil the whole thing by smacking the boy about,” she shook her head. “Oh well. What’s done is done, and you’re still my little brother. Let me make this clear for you; do not speak to him, do not approach him. You see him on the road, you turn around. I will handle things with him from here.”
“And if he speaks to me?”
“Like he’d want to,” she said coldly. “Now, unless there was more, you should be off,” she waved her hand away.
Induen looked back to the fountain. “Elenore. Would you let me… read for you?” he picked up the book.
Her lips trembled briefly, and she said nothing for a time. “I’ll listen,” she eventually said. “Do what you want.”
Induen opened the first page and began reading.
“No, not that part. I’m on page seventy-two.”
Induen obediently flipped to page seventy-two and resumed reading.
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The days passed by quickly, and Anneliese found herself enjoying the brief foray into this idyllic village. Argrave taught her much of herbology and applications of combat magic. The villagers were uncomfortable with two elves in their town, but Anneliese did not feel it as much as she normally would because of the company of Galamon and Argrave. There was companionship in mutual ostracization.
After Argrave dealt with the tax collector and the small disturbance of Lily Lurkers roaming the fields, few other unforeseen events occurred in the days to follow. Galamon struggled to find significant amount of game in the forests, and so they tried Anneliese’s idea. After small-scale testing proved to have significantly promising results, the three devoted most of their attention to brewing enough poison to cull the numbers of the colony enough to head into the cavern proper.
Anneliese, Argrave and Galamon took turns overseeing the brewing process. Some of the villagers grew discontent with their oversight, but Argrave employed various persuasive means to keep them in line—grandiloquent speeches, displays of force, and other such largely effective tactics. On one occasion, he had the two of them catch one of the creatures alive and bring it into the village. There were few protests after that incident.
As Argrave directed Anneliese’s progress on the field of magic, she noticed he had a very systematic approach to things. Rather than learn a wide variety of spells so that any situation could be confronted, Argrave much preferred to manage the situations he would find himself in. He taught her mostly electric-based elemental magic, with only a few spells to cover glaring weaknesses or perform tasks electric magic could not. He seldom explained his logic without being pressed for it, but Anneliese could find plenty if she dug.
Argrave also refused to divulge any more information about himself, a result which Anneliese had been expecting. She knew from experience that trying to bridge a gap too quickly might only break the link that binds them, so she kept her pointed inquiries to a minimum. She could not deny an intense curiosity. His knowledge was without question, but after much scrutiny, she was all but certain that its source was not something Argrave was entirely forthright about.
Eventually, more and more corpses of the Lily Lurkers littered the white fields, some of them being carried away by other workers to an insectoid midden of sorts. The activity from the colony began to fade, and what few insects the three of them did encounter were often slow and weak, easily dispatched by sword or spell.
After around six days in White Edge, Argrave finally decided things had calmed enough to do a cursory examination of the inside of the cavern.
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