The echoes of the feast in the Grand Hall still hung in the air, a lingering symphony of clinking crystal and murmured conversations, though for Erebus, the sweetness had long since soured. He'd played the dutiful prince, of course, offering toasts and exchanging pleasantries, all while beneath the surface, the disquieting undercurrents of the night tugged at his awareness. It was the Corvidae, as always, who moved with that unsettling grace, their lavender-haired Luna a particularly captivating enigma. As the gathering began to disperse, and Luna finally excused herself from the company of her elders, heading towards a more secluded part of the manor, Erebus's carefully constructed facade of indifference crumbled. He could not dismiss the urgency in her voice from earlier.
He endured a few more moments of polite, meaningless chatter, feigning interest in a tedious discussion with a distant cousin about a vintage of blood neither of them truly cared for. It was a performance, a dance of civility, but his focus remained fixed on Luna's departure. When he was certain he wouldn't arouse suspicion, he offered a perfunctory nod, cutting the conversation short, and followed her, his movements fluid and silent, a predator closing in on his prey.
The room Luna had entered was a library, smaller and more intimate than the grand hall. Towering shelves lined with ancient tomes bound in leather and bone created an atmosphere thick with the scent of aged paper and something else, a subtly sweet and floral fragrance that spoke of Luna's recent presence. She stood near a large, arched window, bathed in moonlight that lent her an almost ethereal glow.
Erebus stepped into the room, the heavy oak door closing silently behind him. Luna didn't turn immediately, but he knew she was aware of him. The subtle shift in the air, the almost imperceptible tensing of her shoulders, betrayed her. He crossed the room slowly, deliberately, his yellow eyes fixed on her.
"Luna," he said, his voice low and smooth, like dark velvet. "I couldn't help but overhear some of your conversation with Elara and the others. You spoke of a shifting balance, of challenges to the ancient ways. I'm… intrigued."
Luna finally turned, her lavender hair catching the moonlight, creating a halo around her face. Her expression was composed, her features serene, but her eyes, those deep, ancient eyes, held a flicker of something unreadable. "Intrigued?" she echoed, her voice a low, melodic murmur. "Or concerned, Erebus?"
He arched a brow, a hint of a predatory smile playing on his lips. "Both, perhaps. Concern can be a… potent form of intrigue. You and the elders seem to sense a change in the wind. Something beyond the usual mortal squabbles and ASF interference." He moved closer, the scent of old leather and her subtle, floral fragrance filling his senses. "Something… more."
Luna's gaze remained steady, unwavering. "The winds always change, Erebus. It is the nature of things. Even for us."
"But some changes are more… significant than others," he countered, his voice dropping to a near whisper. He stopped a few feet from her, the space between them charged with unspoken tension. "You spoke of difficult choices. What choices?"
She turned to look out the window, her gaze fixed on the moonlit gardens below. "Choices that may determine the course of our future. Choices that will test the strength of our alliances, the resilience of our traditions."
"And the wisdom of our leaders?" Erebus added, his tone sharp. "Is that what you and the Corvidae elders were discussing? The Vaelen's perceived… inflexibility?"
Luna turned back to him, her expression unreadable in the dim light. "I would not presume to judge the Vaelen, Erebus. Your strength is undeniable. But strength without foresight can be a dangerous thing."
"If not reckless, then what? Negligent? We are warriors, Luna, not scholars. The Vaelen have always faced threats head-on. We do not cower in the shadows, hoarding knowledge while our allies bleed."
"And the Vaelen have also been known for their impulsiveness," Luna retorted, her voice sharp as honed steel. "Their tendency to act before thinking, to charge into battle without considering the consequences. A trait that has cost them dearly in the past."
Erebus's jaw tightened. The barb struck true, hitting a nerve that resonated with the long and often bloody history of the Vaelen family. He forced himself to remain calm, to control the anger that threatened to erupt. "What, precisely, are the consequences you fear, Luna? What is so terrible, so unspeakable, that it must be kept secret from your allies?"
Luna turned away, pacing slowly towards the window. The moonlight painted her lavender hair in shades of silver and shadow, highlighting the tension in her slender frame. "It is not a matter of fear, Erebus. It is a matter of… contamination. This hunger, this corruption, it spreads not just through blood, but through… proximity. Through contact with those who are afflicted. To expose the Vaelen to this threat prematurely, without proper safeguards, could be disastrous."
"Instead of these 'safeguards', what other measures are you taking? What arcane rituals, what forbidden knowledge, do the Corvidae possess that the Vaelen do not?"
Luna stopped pacing, her back still to him. "We have studied these… afflictions for centuries, Erebus. Long before the Vaelen turned their attention to the mortal world. We have delved into the darkest corners of our history, uncovered secrets that would make even you recoil. We have learned to… contain it."
"Contain it?" Erebus's eyes narrowed. "That's just straight up stupidity! Our very existence is on the line here." He coughed. "Excuse my language but, even granting the need for containment, does that really… justify excluding the Vaelen from knowledge that directly impacts our surviva-"
Before he could finish the sentence, a subtle shift in the air, a disturbance in the shadows near the doorway, caught his attention. His senses, honed by centuries of survival, instantly recognized the presence of another. An older presence. Powerful. Familiar, yet unwelcome.
He glanced past Luna, his eyes narrowing as he saw the tall, gaunt figure standing in the doorway. It was Lord Valerius, the head of the Corvidae elders. His face, etched with the wisdom and weariness of ages, was unreadable in the dim light, but his yellow eyes glowed with an ancient intensity. He had entered the room silently, his movements as fluid and soundless as a wraith.
Erebus's hand instinctively moved towards the hilt of the ancient blade concealed beneath his coat, a reflex born of countless battles and betrayals. He knew Valerius. He was a master of secrets, a weaver of shadows, and a staunch defender of the Corvidae's hidden knowledge. His unexpected arrival could mean only one thing: their conversation had been overheard.
Valerius inclined his head slightly, his gaze sweeping across the room, taking in the charged atmosphere, the unspoken tension between Erebus and Luna. "My apologies for the intrusion," he said, his voice a low rumble that seemed to vibrate the very air. "I did not mean to interrupt."
His words were polite, but his presence was a clear warning. A warning to tread carefully, to speak no further. The secrets of the Corvidae were not meant for Vaelen ears. Not yet.
Erebus watched as Valerius stepped fully into the room, his movements deliberate and measured. The elder's gaze shifted from him to Luna, a silent question passing between them. A question Erebus knew he was not meant to hear.
"Lord Valerius," Luna said, her voice composed, though Erebus detected a subtle shift in her tone, a carefully veiled respect... and perhaps a hint of relief. "Erebus and I were... discussing the unrest in the city."
Valerius nodded slowly, his eyes, those ancient, knowing eyes, fixed on Erebus. "Indeed. A matter of some concern. A concern that I am sure you were addressing with your usual thoroughness, Prince Erebus." There was a subtle emphasis on Erebus's title, a reminder of his position, and perhaps, a subtle challenge.
Erebus met his gaze directly, his own yellow eyes burning with a defiance he did not attempt to conceal. He felt the weight of Valerius's ancient presence, a power honed over centuries, but it did not diminish his own resolve. "Directness is a Vaelen virtue, Lord Valerius. We find it more… efficient than obfuscation."
The elder's lips curved slightly, a smile that did not reach his eyes. "Obfuscation is sometimes necessary, Prince Erebus, when dealing with matters that are… delicate. Matters that require a certain… finesse."
"If not finesse, then deception?" Erebus countered, his voice sharp. He could sense the intricate web of secrets Valerius guarded, the subtle manipulations that were the Corvidae's stock-in-trade. He knew the elder was a formidable opponent, but he was not intimidated.
"Perhaps," Valerius conceded, his voice carefully neutral.
"Yet, consider this, Lord Valerius," Erebus interjected, his tone thoughtful. "Is it not a fundamental axiom of any alliance, particularly one forged in blood and tradition, that transparency, even in the face of delicacy, is paramount? For what is trust, if not the unburdened exchange of knowledge between those who stand as equals?"
Valerius inclined his head again, his expression unreadable. "Trust is indeed paramount, Prince Erebus. And it is precisely because of that trust that we proceed with caution. Some truths are best revealed in their own time, when all parties are… prepared to receive them."
"Or controlled?" Erebus's hand tightened on the hilt of his concealed blade. "But might such 'preparation' not be perceived as control, Lord Valerius? Are you suggesting the Vaelen are not 'prepared' to face whatever darkness you Corvidae have unearthed?"
Before Valerius could respond, Luna stepped forward, her hand resting lightly on the elder's arm. "Lord Valerius, I believe Prince Erebus understands the gravity of the situation. He is... concerned for the safety of his people, as are we all." Her voice was calm and measured, a subtle plea for restraint.
Valerius turned his gaze to Luna, his expression softening slightly. "Indeed. Concern is… understandable. But some concerns are best addressed… internally." He turned back to Erebus, his eyes narrowing slightly. "I assure you, Prince Erebus, the Corvidae are taking all necessary precautions to protect our shared interests. When the time is right, you will be made aware of the full extent of the situation."
Erebus held Valerius's gaze, his yellow eyes narrowed and unyielding. The air crackled with unspoken challenge, the weight of his stare a heavy question mark hanging between them. "When the time is right?" he repeated, his voice dangerously low. "And who decides when that time is right, Lord Valerius? You? Or the darkness that you so carefully conceal?"