Dark clouds cast over Allgrads moss ridden walls.
It was nothing of the sorts he imagined, the greatest all the kingdom had to offer. A freerider along the road, Brightsroad it was called, told the trio a days travel away one could feel the heat of a thousand generations of royalty upon reaching the walls.
All he felt was cold piss, drizzling down as they arrived at rusty iron gates.
Guards slumped over craters nearby waved at them, not bothering to demand their business.
"If you so much as look like a soldier, they let you in," Dany said as they passed beneath age old metal.
Even the iron within the graves surrounding Razelael's resting grounds had more decoration.
He spat, his snot landing inches from a brooding guard flopped over a crate. The tiny iron headed runt didn't heed him, rolling over to avoid the growing downpour.
Not much was worth looking at within town, a bunch of rail thin folk eyeing the trio like they were supposed to be sad, starving, and round eyed as well. War, he knew it was, taking its toll on more than just lads in a shield wall with little hope of lasting the night. Even the air tasted piss poor, like the rain were Allgrad's way of weeping to them.
"There," Dany said, pointing to a tower in the city's southeast corner.
Taller than any of Emmerhalds towers, which were nothing more than green tattered rocks above an empty-looking castle, the Archives at least looked awake.
Lights shined, flags swayed with the wind, smoke rose from several windows. As they approached it white knights waved them down, demanding they dismount, dressed in moon colored plates with silk sea colored cloaks strapped to gold fasteners. Walls were black granite, seams of white-sliver running along the change of floors. Over a dozen stories high, it almost touched the clouds, winds howling as thunder sparked.
One of the knights recognized Dany, speaking over the splattering rain. "Defender of Draynsville, and Marryvia's best hunter. You here for Master Larosa?"
Dany nodded.
They made their way inside and were given some time to dry their cloaks by a fire.
An apprentice offered them fresh brewed tea, and though he refused a jab from Al made him take a few sips.
To his surprise it was good, lemon, peach and whatever else made it sweet yet savory.
"Lady Danielle," an old man, dressed in dark blue robes with a velvet rope belt. "It does me well to see you, healthy as one can be of your caliber."
"Master Luryon," Dany said, bowing.
He and Al followed her lead, and Luryon took an immediate interest in him.
"Y-You must be the Warmaster," Luryon said, kneeling. "Please, you are not one to bow here, slayer of fallen angels, and champion of the kingdom."
"I'm no champion," he said, lifting the crone back to his feet with one hand.
Al rolled her eyes, as Dany requested to see Larosa.
"Yes of course," Luryon said, guiding them to a polished oak box. "She's likely in her study, as always. She works tirelessly for the aid and litter within the Burning Lands."
They stepped into the box, and elevator it was called.
Chains creaked, and an apprentice cranked an iron pulley. The elevator rose, and he almost lost his footing. As they rose higher into the tower, he dared not look down, and even a hand from Al couldn't help him hide his fear.
"Quite alright my friend!" Luryon promised, moving a strand of silver white hair from his face. "These shafts are built for a thousand pounds m-."
Winds howled, rattling the top chains close rising into open walls within the tower.
He cursed, thunder shaking the walls, and even Luryon held tight to the elevator's rails.
On the tenth floor, they exited the shaft. He thanked whatever mercy the death god was giving him not to end up crushed beneath an oversized crate and followed everyone else.
A short hall, two rooms on either side, and Luryon opened a gold knobbed double door. Incense whiffed from inside, a room filled with crates, vials, bottles, barrels of herbs, and a pair of beds on either side the wall. A desk sat towards the end of the room, papers scattered atop it, where a ragged haired woman laid face down.
Luryon shook the woman, who bore dark silver robes with a black velvet rope. "Young master. You have visitors."
Larosa rose, hair wild and long, eyes bloodshot with bags under them.
She shook her head, quick to drink from a wineskin close by. At first glance, she made a thin smile, welcoming Dany first. Then she lost her smile, extending a hand to he and Al.
"She tell you?" Larosa muttered, rubbing her head. "Course she did, you'd not be here otherwise."
"You're coming with us," he said, almost demanding. "Can't hide up in your tower forever, princess."
Al said nothing, knowing the lass needed to hear this.
Larosa's face grew red. "Who's hiding? I spent years on the front lines, at the mercy of that…"
She shivered, tucking herself in tighter within her cloak.
"….I'm needed here. I'm not going back."
He snorted. "That how you treat him, after all he's been through? He told me he'd have moved all the valley for you if that's what it took to keep you safe."
"He didn't keep me safe!" She spat, tears forming in her eyes. "No one did! Not me, or those dead children in those cursed lands! Now he's a monster, and he's got no interest in me, the valley, or anything else besides a thirst for blood."
"How do you know," Al said, putting a gentle hand on her shoulder, "if you've not seen him yet?"
Larosa tried fighting back tears, but they fell fast, dropping to the floor as she lowered her head.
"Maybe all he needs is to see you," Al said, grasping her hands. "Just a word or two could make the difference."
Larosa looked at Dany. "So I've heard. But I promise you, there's nothing that can be done. There's no cure, and I've not slept properly in years trying to find one. I'd have rode to the bloodiest battles in the Burning Lands if there were even the slightest chance."
"But you've never tried," Al said, wiping Larosa's eyes. "Even if you fail, better to do so knowing you truly did all you could. Nathan would do the same for you."
In Al's arms, Larosa wept, and it was silent for a moment.
Winds whistled, the storm became a light drizzle, and thunder ignited the clouds beyond Allgrad's walls.
Luryon examined Larosa's desk. "I see you've done quite a bit, going over holy articles dated and signed by some of the best The Order has ever seen."
The crone laid a hand on her, promising to oversee her study.
"Go to him, young master. You may not get another chance."
"I…I won't survive the journey," Larosa muttered.
Luryon shook his head. "With three well armed soulless, no offense my fine friends, you could walk through the gates of he-."
"No, you don't understand," Larosa said, trying to straighten her hair. "The estimated life expectancy where Nathan's believed to be is no more than an hour at most, less when multiple armies are actually engaged. That's not including nightfall."
Al cursed beneath her breath, and he knew she was worried about William.
Dany turned away. "We won't force you. Whether Nathan is beyond saving or not will be for us to find out, with or without you. Though, you did make a promise to him, didn't you?"
"You saw what he did t Sir Robyn, a holy knight," Larosa said, keeping a hand wrapped round her hair. "Even if I can cleanse him, he'd not be allowed in the kingdom, or anywhere."
"Would you not go with him?" He asked. "Long as you had each other, and the Pyrs were a fortnight under, would you not take the chance?"
Her brows tightened, and she squeezed her hair. "You mean to kill the Pyr brothers?"
He leaned over her, smoke rising from his eyes. "I mean to strip the flesh from their bones, and that's only the start of it."
Luryon held a hand over his mouth, making a sign of the cross.
Leaned over the desk, Larosa scrambled over her notes. She folded one up, then retrieved a few herbs from a barrel, loaded a white-gold liquid into a bottle, scooped up a vial of red paste, then stuffed it all into a small leather bag. After slinging everything over her shoulder she bowed to Luryon, then nodded to the trio.
"Young master," Luryon said as they entered the elevator, "I need not remined you, harming royalty is among the most unforgivable o-."
"Sins, aye, she knows," he boomed, touching his sword hilt. "I'll be the one to flay the Pyr boys, you're more than welcome to let every corner of the kingdom know of it!"
Mouth hung open, Luryon made more cross signs and muttered weasel little prayers.
Outside the tower clouds were parting, revealing a bit of late afternoon sun. Horses returned to them, Larosa rode behind Al, and they were off to Allgrad's western gates.
Along a muddy trail, fog growing as they rode further, he saw a red horizon in the west.
Larosa clutched her left hand, touching a brown clay ring with a copper head.