“Sei, Sei.
Want a bit of me?
Come here.”
“Say that again and you won’t keep any blood in your body.”
Aisling made a small cut on his finger, let it slide down, dripping a drop of blood to the floor.
Seishan was seated, but her thoughts were elsewhere, organizing her plans and thinking at length about the future.
Seishan recruited the young female Dreamers within the Bright Castle and from the dirty alleyways.
They then continued with exhaustive training under her strict direction.
The weeks turned into months.
Like everyone in the Bright Castle, there was a time of great pressure while Seishan put together her Handmaidens.
Though it wasn’t a task that demanded much of her, it did keep her busy forming the group.
With Aisling acting as a silent protector whose only job was to stay still in a corner, his problems faded away.
In fact, since Aisling had no name and Seishan claimed with total candor that she didn’t know it either, everyone started calling him Spectre, or Spectre of the Handmaidens.
Aisling felt happy; he’d finally been given a name.
But, as if it couldn’t be helped, trouble came whether they wanted it or not.
First, there were the two of their Flaws, the most problematic being Aisling’s feeding.
Seishan had to feed him if she wanted to keep him around, and she couldn’t leave him in a corner all day.
She had to take him out for a walk every so often so his curiosity wouldn’t lead him into some unknown corner of the castle.
There were few alternatives.
They could hunt within the castle anyone they disliked and hide the evidence; it wasn’t unusual for someone to die from a Nightmare Creature that had slipped in, especially among those who guarded the outside.
Still, this didn’t remove the problem of Aisling putting his hands where they didn’t belong.
They could also go outside and take advantage of those in need, choosing someone in particular who was very weak and quietly killing them, or just taking a corpse before a Nightmare Creature could get to it.
They could also take time to stroll through the Dark City.
Seishan tended to be busy with her duties as mistress of the Handmaidens, but she could let Aisling off his leash to wander and come back.
Another problem were the idiots in the castle who tried to take advantage of the Handmaidens.
They retreated the moment they saw Aisling’s figure; even so, it was a recurring problem that required attention.
Attention that would be given that very day.
Seishan looked out the window, signaling to Aisling.
“It’s time.
Do you remember the plan?”
“Of course.
Know thy enemy and thyself and you shall win.”
Seishan sighed, though she felt amused inside.
“It’ll do.”
* * *
Seishan brought Aisling to an audience with Gunlaug over an issue that had come up.
Inside the great hall, where the throne stood.
Nearly all of Gunlaug’s forces were gathered, his lieutenants by his side.
The taciturn giant, Tessai.
The young scout, Gemma.
The grim executioner, Harus.
The Golden Serpent, Gunlaug.
All had come to receive him.
Gunlaug had summoned Aisling; Seishan only accompanied him as his superior, and to get a closer look at several scouts and members of the militia with smug smiles.
What all those smiling shared was a broken arm.
Aisling glanced at them sideways too, knowing exactly why there was so much malice directed at him.
Gunlaug spoke, with Aisling standing before him:
“We have a problem on our hands.
I’ve been told about an abuse of power within the castle.
An act that cannot be tolerated within the walls we’ve worked so hard to build.
State your case.”
One of the Dreamers with a broken arm stepped forward.
“My lord, I ask you to punish this Spectre.
He’s a thug who uses his position to intimidate us!”
I can’t deny that.
“We only wanted to introduce ourselves and help, but all we got was indiscriminate rejection and he attacked us.”
You’re right about that.
“And as if that weren’t enough, he knocked us down and broke our companions’ arms.”
I needed the practice.
Besides, they can heal their arms with healing Memories; they’re just putting on a show.
Gunlaug turned his golden reflection toward Aisling.
“Is that true?”
Aisling nodded; he wasn’t going to lie just because he felt like it.
But I couldn’t judge you without hearing your side either.”
Seishan stepped forward.
“The Spectre merely took the necessary measures to protect the Handmaidens.
We’re a relatively new group, and some believe it’s easy to take advantage of us, growing quite bold and shameless in their actions.
I ask, please, that you review the facts carefully, my lord, and that we avoid letting this small matter harm the Bright Castle’s integrity.”
The Dreamers with broken arms were left gaping.
That woman’s words had completely shifted the atmosphere and made them look like the guilty party; she had even accused them of harming the Bright Castle over such a trivial matter.
All they could do was watch in silence as Gunlaug spoke.
At that moment, Gemma stepped forward.
“My lord, isn’t there a method that has existed since the first humans arrived?
It would serve to settle this matter definitively and prevent it from affecting things in the future.
I refer, of course, to the right of challenge.”
Whether or not they approved of their subordinates’ actions, the lieutenants weren’t fools.
Having no face left to keep going with it, he offered a proposal that would leave the matter behind regardless of the outcome.
The Lord of the Bright Castle spoke:
“The right of challenge?
So be it.
It’s a sacred tradition, without a doubt.
As long as men are willing to lay down their lives, injustice will not exist.”
Injustice?
True; it must end.
Aisling saw himself in the golden reflection, accepting the challenge.
“But, Gemma, it wouldn’t be right for you to represent the wronged for their own cause.
Let them choose their champion.”
The Dreamer who had declared Aisling’s crime brightened, a dangerous glint in his eyes.
“I choose Harus, my lord.”
The atmosphere turned grim.
Even those on the same side couldn’t help but feel afraid.
On Seishan’s side, the fear was visible on the Handmaidens’ faces.
Harus was a hunched man with no expression on his bony face; he was pale and had glassy eyes.
With a bored expression, he stepped forward.
Aisling moved aside, clearing the space.
The center of the hall was left empty for the two of them.
Silence reigned at that moment.
Neither moved, nor seemed inclined to.
The tension was suffocating for anyone — more so than any battle to the death — and hard to predict given how little was known about the other.
Harus was the first to make a move: he straightened, revealing an intimidating height.
“Aren’t you going to attack, masked one?”
He said, bored, staring without blinking.
Aisling made his move as well.
He took off his cloak, revealing his own silver plate armor.
On his hands he wore strange, reinforced but flexible black gauntlets, able to move his fingers with relative ease.
If you’re asking for it, I’ll come for you.
Aisling advanced fast, with a speed that drew gasps from many.
He arrived in front of Harus in a second with his fist raised to shatter his pale face.
Harus opened his eyes slightly, but didn’t panic.
The next thing Aisling knew, he had suddenly gone blind.
His punch missed, and instinct made him dodge his head, feeling a fist graze the mask, but taking a full blow to the chest that sent him rolling across the floor.
This is his Aspect Ability: it blinds them.
Aisling didn’t panic, though he was very on edge at that moment.
He was certain that when he’d dodged the blow to his head, he’d sensed something specific with his senses.
I already know his ability; I just need to survive.
At that moment, Aisling’s sight returned unexpectedly.
Noticing Harus’s chain-wrapped fist a step from his face, he threw himself to the ground and rolled.
Can I see?
I guess his ability is temporary.
Harus narrowed his eyes.
“You dodged it.
How do you do that?”
They became locked in a fierce battle.
Harus was an expert combatant and wielded his chains with skill, creating distance and closing in whenever it suited him, dominating the rhythm of the fight.
Aisling charged with force, dodged the chains, and when he entered close combat, his strength was greater than Harus’s, but he was outmatched in cunning and technique honed through countless battles.
Finding an opening, Harus wrapped Aisling’s arm and stopped him for a moment to close in and grab his head.
In a single instant, Aisling’s neck made a horrible sound as it broke.
Everyone held their breath.
The Handmaidens were the most affected, turning pale at the sight of their strange but silent protector dying that way.
Seishan only watched the encounter with her usual coldness.
Harus pulled the chain back to retrieve it, but it didn’t move.
It was his turn to be surprised when he was struck full in the face.
He couldn’t react when he was yanked by his own chain, receiving the same blow that made him cough blood.
Trying to understand what was happening, he watched Aisling’s head return to its place, before being slammed into the floor and feeling the weight of another heavy fist.
Aisling changed course in a surprising move and, before delivering the final blow, turned to Seishan with his fist raised, asking permission for his next action.
Seishan shook her head.
Aisling straightened and simply stood still beside a battered Harus.
Seishan’s enchanting voice rang through the hall, the spectators stunned by what had just happened:
“I hope this matter can be forgotten, my lord.
I don’t believe it should be necessary to end this with someone’s death; that would only be a loss for you.
So please, declare the duel over and, I sincerely ask, take into consideration the position of my Handmaidens.”
* * *
Inside a certain room.
Aisling, without his mask, collapsed onto the bed, rubbing his neck with a grimace.
“You know, it’s curious to feel your head turn and look the other way.”
Seishan made sure no one was nearby and sat beside him on the bed.
“That went well; the Handmaidens won’t be defenseless anymore.
Though it was also very risky…
it could have ended badly.”
Aisling leaned closer with a carefree smile.
“But it didn’t.”
“You say that, but if you’d died, your ghost would say, ‘What a shame; I died,’ and then fade away.”
“That does sound like me, but I won’t.”
Seishan frowned, hesitating a little before answering:
“How can you be so sure?”
“That…” Aisling thought for a moment and let out an amused sound.
“She accepted your mandate; I’m not permitted to die.”
Aisling’s gaze was clear and sincere, causing a slight tremor in Seishan that she couldn’t describe and didn’t want to.
She decided this was purely utilitarian, and it was.
She parted her delicate lips.
“It’s your turn to fulfill part of the responsibility, remember?”
With a slight approach, they ended up face to face, looking into each other’s eyes.
“I know, Sei.”
Aisling tilted his head, baring his pale neck.
Seishan drew closer, gripping his shoulders, and sank her fangs forcefully into his neck.
The blood streamed forcefully down his collarbone; it wouldn’t stop flowing, and that only fueled Seishan’s craving.
She released her bite, losing herself in the bright red blood.
Her eyes filled with a predatory hunger.
Unable to contain her urge, she bit him again, letting the blood slide down his pale skin.
She ran her fingers along the small rivers of blood without hiding her emotion.
They lost track of the time they spent locked away, playing and leaving a bloody image, charged with intense emotions true to their desires.
* * *
At dawn, Aisling got up from the bed and summoned the mask once more.
“By the way, I’ve already made my decision.” He paused for a moment and said: “Things are calm enough in the castle now, so I’ll head out to the labyrinth.
I’ll come back from time to time to see you and watch over your position.
Just know that this isn’t my place.”
Seishan, still, only looked at him with her usual expressionless, elegant face.
“I understand; it’s no problem…
Just make sure you come back.
You have a shared responsibility.”
Aisling smiled.
“See you, Sei.”
He left the room, leaving Seishan in bed.
She stayed where she was and looked out the window at the light filtering in.
“See you…”