When Saul left Nadine’s house, he found that the light had fled in the short time he had been inside. Uncle Nathan was standing partway down the path off the small grounds of the house, glowing softly. Saul followed him back to the street, which was completely unlit. The sky was as overcast as it had been during the day, so without Uncle Nathan’s glowing form, he would have been forced to navigate the streets using the relatively scant light issuing from all the windows all the buildings had.
There were still plenty of people on the streets, appearing as little more than a dimly illuminated shifting mass to Saul’s eye. He started walking right behind Nathan after almost colliding with people a few times that he hadn’t quite seen. When he stopped dwelling on his thoughts and actually processed what was happening around him, he figured out what was going on. One of the elves’ ancestral traits was darkvision. Most, if not all, part-elves must also have the same trait.
After a mildly harrowing several minutes, they reached the magistrate. Toby was standing at the edge of a street near the building, illuminated by the glowing hand of the quarter-elf woman he was talking to. When he saw Nathan, he wrapped up his conversation and made his way over. Nathan led them into the stone building through an open six inch thick stone door.
“There isn’t time for you two to change into anything nicer, or for me to get a new shoe,” Nathan told them, “we’ll just have to make up for it with our winning personalities!”
“What happened to your shoe?” Toby asked, “and why does your sock have black streaks?”
Saul tuned them out, fishing through his satchel for jewelry. Having a storage satchel at all times was turning out to be very useful. He put on his death amulet and secured it to his mail, put a mist mirror ring on each forefinger, and fed a quarter to his tattoo after rolling up the right sleeve of his coat and buttoning it. For his hair, his only options were to hope it looked presentable, or blindly slather oil into it. He decided to just leave it however it was. Finally, he remembered the small artifact he hadn’t needed yet, taking out the silver piece stylized as a curved lizard and hooking it over his left ear.
“Damn. You just had that stuff with you?” Toby said, “now you look downright presentable, and nobody is going to question Nathan no matter how he looks, so it’s just me dressed down from traveling.”
“I have some more mist mirror rings?” Saul offered, “I could also carry some things for you. I have a bottle for water in here, if you get one I could store it. You said you were thirsty back at the Wizard’s.”
“Do you have any pool mirror rings?” Toby asked hopefully, “I could wear them as bracelets to add something different to my look.”
“No, sorry, I didn’t see any reason to bring them since I can’t use them.”
“Here we are,” Nathan said, stopping in front of a set of double doors. He grabbed the bars and threw the doors open, marching in. “Councilor Guillaume, sorry we’re late—my nephew was having an important scholarly debate!”
Saul froze in the doorway, eyes fixed on the imposing man Nathan had just addressed. Councilor Guillaume loomed at the head of a table, hair white with age, armored in silver, and draped in a black cloak. He was literally the tallest person Saul had seen in days, nearly six feet at least, but it felt like the Councilor towered over the room on an even deeper level. Toby sucked in a breath, and when Saul glanced at him, he had blanched.
Toby whispered under his breath, “one-step immortal.”
The Councilor stepped away from the table and strode toward them. As he approached, Saul’s noble title, which he visualized as a slight glow, was forced back into his body. The man had the title of at least a marquis or count. Saul bowed so deeply he was nearly horizontal with the floor.
“I apologize for our tardiness, Councilor,” he told the man’s approaching boots. “I did not mean to cause any offense.”
“That is not how we show respect.” The man said in a deep, gruff voice. “Look me in the eye.”
Saul and Toby quickly straightened, and Saul offered his hand.
“I apologize for our tardiness, Councilor,” he repeated, meeting the man’s piercing blue-gray eyes, “I did not mean to cause any offense.”
The Councilor seized his hand and shook it. “Your apology is accepted.”
He shook Toby’s hand as well, then returned to the head of the rectangular six person table. Uncle Nathan had already taken a seat at the foot of the table. Another man and a woman were also seated, one on each side of the Councilor’s chair. Saul and Toby sat on each side of Nathan. There was a tense silence, though Nathan himself was silently chuckling.
“Good evening,” the woman on Saul’s right said, “am I to assume that Nathaniel did not inform you of whom you would be meeting for dinner?”
“Yes.” Saul said flatly, then realized he was being rude. “Apologies, I am Lord Saul Ficial, this is my cousin, the Honorable Toby Ficial, and this is my uncle, Lord Nathaniel Ficial.”
“A pleasure,” she replied, “My name is Caliste, assistant to Outer Councilor Guillaume. This is Geraud, captain of the Chelou militia and the Councilor’s husband.”
The man across the table with brown and gray hair gave Saul a nod. Caliste herself had blond hair and the slightly narrowed ears that Saul was starting to associate with half-elves. The other two men were presumably quarter-elves.
“Is everyone ready to eat?” Caliste asked, getting a consensus of curt nods. “I’ll be right back, then.”
She stood and left the small room through a side door. To avoid having to look at anyone else, Saul looked around at the room. It was maybe fifteen feet on a side with the table at the center. The wall behind the head of the table held two glass windows that were flush with the stone around them. The floor had a checkered pattern of light and dark wood. The table itself was also wood with silver leaf inlaid in patterns like waves and specks of gold leaf creating the suggestion of flickering flames atop the water. The pattern was protected by a pane of glass that covered the top of the table and on which the ceramic plates and utensils had been placed.
“So, anyway, Guillaume, have you killed anything interesting lately?” Uncle Nathan asked casually, “I’m sure my nephew here would be quite interested in hearing about your abilities.”
The Councilor’s gaze landed on Saul.
“I, ah, study thaumaturgy, Councilor,” Saul explained. “My uncle has been kind enough to bring me to meet several people with Soul Idols not found among humans today. I wouldn’t want to impose further on your hospitality, however. I am honored just that you took the time to share a meal with us.”
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Silence returned. Saul had no clue whether the man was thinking or just staring. He noticed that Toby seemed to be distracted by something behind the man, but didn’t see anything himself. The side door opened again, Caliste returning with a trolly of dishes. While she clattered around placing things on the table, Saul tried to catch Toby’s eye, but failed. Saul wiped his forehead, drawing his fingers past his eyes in the process, and muttered under his breath.
“See Death”
Nothing happened. He put his left hand on his death amulet and tried again, with no result. Frustrated, he let go and did the motion a progressively less subtle third time.
“See Mirror”
The ambient power of mirror, and to a lesser extent light and dark, was revealed to him. Behind the Councilor, a pool of dark power seethed, glimmering drops of light visible within. Toby shouldn’t be able to see either, which suggested a third power was also present. Death was likely, but wind or edge were also possible. A mist of light power also coated the ceiling, the source of the room’s illumination and an obvious sign that the building was powered.
Caliste had finished laying out the table, and returned to her seat next to Saul, immediately reaching for one of the dishes in the middle of the table to serve herself. Nathan did the same. The meal mainly consisted of mutton cooked such that it could be pulled from the bones in strips, along with carrots and rice. The bread had a slight yellow color and crumbled easily.
“Your bodyguard joined some of my men in training this afternoon,” Geraud said not long after everyone had gotten their food.
“Thank you for accommodating him,” Saul replied, “his martial training is still minimal due to unfortunate time constraints.”
“Yes, that was my assessment as well. He was very driven to improve. Will he be joining us tomorrow?”
“Unfortunately not. His presence wasn’t necessary with Uncle Nathaniel here, but once he leaves tomorrow, Bart will need to stay with me. We’ve had some problems with…bandits.”
“Bart told me the same. That would not be a good idea, I have an alternative,” Geraud glanced over at Councilor Guillaume, who nodded. “I can provide you with a bodyguard instead, while you are in the city. We will accept responsibility for your safety.”
“Why? Is this related to what that guard told us about his unpleasant presence this afternoon?”
“It is. Sparring with or near him is good training for some of my men. Bringing him through the city would cause a small amount of unrest.”
Saul looked at his uncle, “what do you think?”
“If they’re willing to take responsibility for your safety, you’ll be more than fine,” Nathan reassured him.
“I accept, thank you,” Saul told Geraud, “Please pardon my hesitation, I am not familiar with your city’s governance, impressive though I am sure it is.”
Geraud simply nodded. When everyone had finished most of their food, Caliste started moving the serving dishes in the center of the table back onto the trolly in the corner. She then slid two wood slabs covered in thinly sliced meats, cheeses, and dried fruits onto the table. When she had settled back into her seat, the Councilor spoke for the first time.
“You asked of my power?” he said gruffly to Saul, who wavered for a moment before nodding.
A cloud of darkness limbed in silver light, like a sun peering around a storm cloud, billowed up behind the man’s chair. It resolved into the form of a massive snail nearly as tall as the ceiling with the head of a snake and eyes lolling on stalks. The details of the shell and scales were visible like the lines of a sketch on black paper.
“Every monster that threatens my people pays for its sin with an afterlife of service protecting them.” Councilor Guillaume growled, “no matter if that monster is daemon, creature, or human.”
“Incredible,” Saul whispered quietly, momentarily distracted as he gazed up at the liminal creature.
“What even is that thing?” Nathan asked, then popped a dried fig in his mouth from the bowl of them he had taken.
“A carcolh,” Geraud replied, “the strongest one I’ve ever fought. Powerful light abilities, but vulnerable to light itself.”
Saul wanted to ask several questions about how the Councilor’s power actually worked, but refrained. The end of the uncomfortable meal was slightly enlivened by a discussion between Geraud and Toby after Geraud mentioned having healing abilities. Caliste began to clear the table. When she was nearly finished, the Councilor spoke again.
“I require a private word with Saul.”
Nathan stood, gave Saul a smirk and a wave, and left through the double doors. Geraud looked at his husband, who shook his head slightly. Geraud also rose, ushering Toby out as they continued talking. Caliste took the last of the plates and pushed the trolly out the side door, leaving Saul sitting alone with the Councilor.
“I received a report from the eastern guard tower this afternoon. It brought a non-human with a human noble title to my attention. That is you, correct?” he stated.
“Well, that is what they said to me.” Saul replied cautiously.
“Do you dispute the facts of the report?”
“Yes? I am human. I’ve never had any reason to question it.”
“Very well,” darkness accumulated behind the Councilor again, “I will ascertain the report’s veracity.”
Behind the chair, the silver-edged cloud formed into the shape of a man in armor. The thin silver wrinkles on the inky face suggested an age somewhere in the sixties. The man’s ears had a slight taper at the ends. He marched around the table to Saul’s chair and seemed to examine him. The shadow turned back to the Councilor.
“Demonstrate a cantrip for him.” The Councilor ordered.
Saul didn’t think doing something showy was a good idea, so he scanned the room for something he could make an Image of.
“Image”
One of the bars from the double doors appeared on the table. The shadowy man picked the incorporeal Image up and examined it, then took it in both hands and snapped it in half, dispersing it. He turned to the Councilor and gestured in the direction of one of the walls.
Councilor Guillaume raised a single eyebrow and asked, “have you been blessed by a saint?”
“No. I was invited to join the Scholar’s clergy, but declined.”
The shadowy man shrugged and returned to the Councilor’s side, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek before disintegrating.
“Non-human.” The Councilor concluded. “Humans do not have an affinity for light.”
“How is that possible?” Saul tried to ask as politely as possible.
“I do not know. Ask the Architect, iel might know. I do need you to decide if you require asylum.”
“Nadine? My uncle took me to see her just before we came here.”
“Then request another meeting with iel,” the man said dismissively. “Now, will you be staying in my city or not? You are welcome. You may share your uncle’s name, but you do not share his strident eccentricities.”
“How should I—?!” Saul caught himself, and took a breath. “I was a bit concerned by what the guards told me, but without a damn good explanation of how exactly I’m not human, I’m not going to suddenly drop everything and live here. I’ll be traveling into elven territory for the next couple months anyway. I’ll take my trip, and talk to you when I pass back through. Please. If you don’t mind.”
Councilor Guillaume regarded him silently for a moment.
“You may go.”
Not stopping to ask what precisely the man meant, Saul left the dining room. He found himself in the hallway, with no idea where he was supposed to go, or even where the entrance was.
