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412 ~S Time Before the Rain's Fest, Kingdom of Clarity, 14th Provenance of the Martyr

Howl stepped back from the cell. The two were almost mirror images of one another between the bars, only one looked the worse for wear. Howl was surprised to see that the jackal also had the blackness around his eyes. The only difference was the ash color in his eyes was nearly absolute, each iris a coal black, whereas now Howl's had returned to the striking green.

The prisoner shifted in his chains, which tied to the far wall. He looked rather energetic despite his current state. His clothes were dirty rags and his fur was clumped up in several places where stains and bugs had taken over.

Howl turned to his friend, a look of hurt clearly etched onto his face. "Why didn't you tell me?"

"You do not know this jackal, Howl, he is not like you in any ways."

Just as Trillith finished this did the jackal behind the bars speak up. His smile was a leer and his voice was cracked from little use.

"You do not know me...?" The jackal grasped the bars and looked directly into Howl's face, studying him. "Yes, you do not. I can see it in your soft eyes. But you have the skill..." his voice trailed and he continued "... Such a long time, but of course you would not know. Ignorance can write such a beautiful tale, but it is still but a tale. How much you wish to know, my dear brother, I can see in your eyes, a hunger..." And he reached out and grabbed Howl's arm.

Howl yanked his arm back just in time to avoid getting scratched by his brother's long and filthy claws. Trillith motioned for Howl to back away, and he did.

Howl did not want to leave just yet, but his friend was already motioning for him to follow back down the corridor. They walked back to the safety of the castle's kitchen. Howl still had a lot of questions, but his friend did not answer. Trillith continued out a side door that led to the back of the castle. Only until they gained the outer wall and in the fresh, clean air did Trillith speak.

"The skill can be a dangerous art, my friend, and if one wishes to learn it, they must show proper responsibility for their aldemartis. It is the animal that carries their body to the spirit realm. They cannot die by physical standards, no, but if someone were to use the skill..."

Howl sensed this was in relation to his brother. Trillith saw his questing look and continued, "If one were to use the skill to kill their spirit, or aldemartis, I suspect they would not go to Aldemar, our spirit-realm, but remain in limbo, what we call Alantris, the space between flesh and thought. No one knows what happens to a soul then..."

"What your brother did however was far worse. We all have what we call aura, you probably feel it behind your eyes at this moment. It's so we can identify each other with our own auras. Your brother is alive, but his aura remains untraceable, it is no longer there. This has happened only a few times, and all times were for no good. We suspect that he made a deal with one of the spirits of Aldemar, and switched their place when his aldemartis was destroyed. If one wishes to do this, one must get close to death. What your brother experienced after he "died", that day, a black day, might explain this.

"You were too young, Howl, maybe four, to remember or feel much of anything. Your brother died after a grave illness took his life. Grim told me that your father told you once, when you were real young, on a rainy day."

Howl looked away. No memory came to him of such a night. "His face..." Howl recalled the face he stared back at behind the bars. The fierceness behind that black mask as he reached out to grab Howl's wrist. Those black, emotionless eyes...

"Tell me about the skill."

Trillith looked relieved to have the subject changed, for he lifted himself up higher and smiled. He raised up his hand in a fist, pointing it at a nearby flower bud. He slowly uncurled his hand and the flower bud opened up into a beautiful lily. "Controlling life is a difficult magic, and one should never use it on another living being." He closed his hand and the lily closed up with it. "This circumstance however can be considered an exception, since it is to teach."

"Never attempt to use the skill on another living person." Trillith motioned to the daggers at his hilt and the sword at Howl's belt. "Only weapons are necessary."

"With my ears, my skills allow me to specialize in sound contortion. What you saw earlier was my doing. Grim used magic of her own skill to wash away our scent to make us undetectable and untraceable. Your skill on the other hand may prove to be far more interesting."

"It is called spheris_mortar, or sometimes _realis mortar, and it allows you to impart illusions. Manipulate the eyes. The reflection in the mirror you saw earlier was an example of an illusion, we just consider what we see reflected back to be real, when it is only a perfect copy of reality. You can bend these images. Twist them to your own needs."

"However I warn you now, if you ever do such a thing to inflict unnecessary harm on another, it will mark badly with our friendship, and on your own soul, your aldemartis, and you may not go where you wish to go upon your death. The decision of course is up to you."

Trillith finally paused, and they stood in silence for a minute. It was a rather difficult silence, all the while Trillith fidgeted, and Howl had a whole lot more on his mind now. His head was beginning to pound, right behind the eyes again. A new world had opened its doors to him, one of magic and spirits, ash and death. He reached up and touched the places around his eyes. Soot came off on his fingers. Howl wondered if any of it rubbed off his eyes, but he doubted it.

"This is all so much to take in." Howl finally spoke up. His face was beginning to redden and he could feel a lot of last night's emotions stirring inside him. But mostly the emotions were of fear. His thoughts switched back to his brother. As his brother grasped his wrist, there was some sort of connection, probably due to the magic, but Howl felt something. A jolt up his arm. He feared the connection, just as the his brother's eyes, his empty eyes, imparted fear in him.

Just as mysterious was his friend's involvement in the affair. How could his friend, his closest friend, been hiding all this for so long? And what would happen to their friendship now that this new world pulled Howl's fear, of both magic, and his position as Duke of Fellarus and his right as heir to the kingdom of Clarity?

"Do not worry so much, Howl." Trillith soothed, as he could see the tenseness in his friend's demeanor. He put a hand on his shoulder in reassurance. "Things will continue as they will. The spring season has just begun and with the villages preparing for Rain's Fest, it will be a nice excuse for normality, pardon the irony of it."

"I'm more concerned about the funeral..." Howl looked out the balistraria of the alcove they were in. The storm clouds were again approaching. Rain and a funeral for a king. Trillith was right. After all this, it was the perfect time to celebrate renewal.

"It has been a long day."

Howl didn't know how he was going to explain the sudden change in appearance on his face. It will look strange to the court's assembly. He would have to assume the representation of devoutness. It would be the reverence to his father, and penance to his favorer, for a consummation ritual.

"If anyone asks, the ash is for Hezira, to guide my father's soul to a place of good fortune in the afterlife."

Trillith smiled. "Of course." He removed his hand and embraced Howl, which Howl returned rather awkwardly. He still didn't feel on the same level as his friend anymore.

"You should probably get back to the castle, Fier is probably looking for you to take care of the funeral and your succession. I'm sorry our friendship has been tightly bound as of late, and I imagine to you it may now have seemed played, but I promise you, Howl, I am still the companion you've come accustomed through your childhood, and I have always held you in high esteem. As a friend, I'll be around."

With that he took his leave, heading for the eastern gate out of the bailey toward the barren eastern district of the bastion's main sentry locale.

Howl moved out of the embrasure of the palisade, back across the gardens, and into the kitchen. He allowed himself a moment of peace, to slow his thoughts and organize his current affairs. He had to speak to Fier and Silera, the high priestess, to organize the funeral and ceremony. It would also be a good idea to tie it in with the regales of the rain festivities, to celebrate the renewal and give his court relief from the disparate times.

Just as he was on his way out the door, he couldn't help but get another glance of his reflection in the dishware. It was true that none of the soot had rubbed off, almost like it was eternal on his fur. His muzzle however had a black streak on it, and Howl licked it off with his tongue. It tasted like dry ash.

Finally he made his way back to the great hall. A servant was tending to the castle windows, scrubbing the dust that had accumulated, and other than Howl himself he was the only other occupant.

He approached the servant, a young rabbit, a jackalope to be precise, rather exotic but appropriate for a castle's assemblage.

"Excuse me, but do you know where I can find Fier? I'm hoping to catch up with the groundwork for the funeral and succession arrangements. He tried to sound prince-worthy again, drawing himself up and looking down on the youth. The servant nodded.

"Yes, last I saw he was looking for you in the dais, just outside your father's room, err, I mean, the king's room, not a moment ago."

"Thank you."

Howl passed through the curtain behind the throne and into the dais, but Feir was not present. He went back into his father's, his own room now, and saw the old leopard stooped over a parchment he was writing on the desk. Howl cleared his throat.

Fier turned, returning his quill to the ink bottle, and gave him a warm smile.

"My dear Howl. What happened to your face? Did Silera gorge you in the Viserian arts again? You know how she is, I suspect she is trying to induct you into the practice before your due. It is entirely up to you whether you wanted to assert your religious-"

"No, Fier, it was my decision." An argument with Fier over religion was not a conversation with which he wanted to discuss. "I just wanted to prepare my proper respects to my father before the ceremony."

"Ah, then you should probably take a seat, as we have much to plan."

It was already twilight by the time Fier and he were finished detailing the procedures with which the ritual would take place. It would start tomorrow with the memoir and commemoration, there would be a break, then the royal guard would help to lift the casket and they would walk to the palace burial site, where his father would be laid to rest with the other kings, queens, and previous royal inheritants. It would end with the feast in the dining hall, and the tidings of the Rain's Fest. Soon it would end, and the next day would present his succession, in which Howl was to be crowned King, a very important day for the kingdom of Clarity, as it meant a new reign and a new rule to follow.

Howl was just making his way down to the dining hall to get himself some much needed provision when he felt a strange tingling sensation behind his eyes. A patch of color in his vision faltered, and as he was just alleviating himself from this strange occurrence, without admonition, the familiar and not entirely pleasant presence of the cat Grim faced him. She had a hasty look to her, and just by the buzz Howl was feeling in his head, he could suspect no good to come.

She glanced around. They were in the outer hall outside the servant's quarters. The gray cat opened the door and peered inside. Howl saw she still had the spider webs clumped in her fur, and wondered if she ever bathed or brushed her fur. She turned around, saw the look Howl was giving her, and scowled.

"What are you gawking at? We need to talk, now. Privately. She motioned for him to enter the servant's quarters and he did so quickly. Once the door was closed, she took another quick scan of the room, then lowered her head. She spoke in a whisper.

"Unfortunately we don't have Trillith's skill to silence our conversation, but I've at least made us undetectable by scent. I'm here about your brother, Howl. He's dead."

---

"What?!" Howl couldn't believe his ears. He had seen his brother just around five hours ago, how could he died in that time? Sure he looked haggard and thread-bare, but from his voice, and the cold fierceness of his character, he didn't seem like he would drop dead just hours after Howl had met him.

"We have to consult with Aldemar. If his soul didn't pass over, I fear the worst. You should follow me." She lead the way out the servants quarters and headed west, taking the staircase that lead to the library, which Howl will admit to rarely entering. When they entered, she headed toward a small, barely noticeable door at the back and they headed inside.

There was a lot of scrolls, and a lot of dust. Now Howl understood how Grim had always stayed dusty. Trillith sat over in the corner, on stool bent over some parchment. He looked like he already knew, for he made no attempt to relay anything.

Grim pulled out a large book from a quite large stack of other tomes and opened it up, pulling out a quill and ink bottle. The quill had a stroke of gold that spanned the length of the hollow shaft which served as the ink reservoir.

Grim motioned to the ink. "This ink is special, very very rare. So rare in fact there are only a few who possess such material in existence. It is made out of the ash of a phoenix. The magical properties it has go beyond both the mortal and spirit realm, which makes it so valuable to us. I've never written with it before, as I was afraid to use it, but now I think is the time."

Grim dipped the gold feather into the black ink and wrote several words onto the parchment, scratching out a lengthy note. Howl peered over the table and read the passages, but could not discern the language to which it was written.

Eventually she stopped and waited. Howl didn't quite understand why she paused, and was just about to question her when to his astonishment a series of words scrabbled across the page alone, without Grim lifting a paw. After awhile Howl began to see Grim's face slacken, and Trillith who had padded over to see what the transcription said let out a soft moan.

"What? What does it say?" Howl spoke up nervously. He could almost have guessed the answer.

"Athera, your brother, is not in Aldemar."

Howl wasn't sure whether he should feel relieved or apprehensive. "What else does it say?" The passage was long. Howl was sure there was more to it than that. Something they were holding back.

Grim glanced at Trillith. Trillith nodded. "He has a right to know. We've already dragged him into this."

Grim sighed. "Your brother is not in Aldemar, but that does not mean he is dead. No, he is still alive... sort of. If we were to go down to your brother's cell, his body would now be a pile of ash."

Howl tilted his head. "And why is that."

This time Trillith spoke up. "Because he was first seen in Aldemar with a white tiger, feral- a demon, not moments before his death. And that tiger has become his aldemartis. They left shortly after, and now his spirit is back. He has transcended both worlds. He is in limbo now. Alantris. I do not know what has become of him there."

Grim interrupted him. "I suspect this means that his flesh has dissolved and he has become a spirit, at least that is what I believe the Aldemere mean when they mentioned 'the blood of the fallen is lost to body, but not by trace', meaning that his body is gone, but his aura remains. He could have easily escaped through his prison and made his way out of the castle and probably out of Serenitir by now."

Grim sat heavily down in the wooden chair and closed the book, then stoppered the ink and locked it and the quill back into the drawer of the desk.

"At the moment there is no reason to panic. He will be making his way out of the country for now I suppose. I don't know when he will return though. It may be days, it could be several cycles, or he may not return at all. I suspect that if he does return, however, he will be after you, Howl."

Howl shivered. "What would he want with-" Howl paused. It made sense. If the jackal was truly his brother, he would hold claim to the throne of Serenitir and the Kingdom of Clarity.

"It is said that when one dies, there soul can be bargained with on the last breath. There is a secret spell that, if spoken, can summon a demon, and that the soul can be traded with if one promises a demon something of value... such as a domain of the earth-bound realm."

Howl's eyes widened, "He would want the throne then. He would want... want to kill me."

"I suspect, but I don't believe there is any reason to fear him now. His soul is still insubstantial, and his body, which will one day be possessed of the demon if not stopped, will eventually re-materialize. It is when that happens that we should be careful."

Howl wondered how much of a threat the demon posed, and he was going to ask about it when there was a sharp knock on the door.

Grim glanced around quickly, making sure that there was nothing left out that would reveal their situation. "Come in," she spoke in a rasp.

The door creaked open. It was a wolf. Howl did not recognize him. He was white and fairly striking in appearance, with a brownish crest on his chest. His appearance was humble, and the white fur made him appear almost ethereal.

The white wolf's face turned to Howl's and there eye's met. The wolf fixed him with a piercing gaze. His eyes were a vivid amber, which contrasted beautifully with his fur. Howl felt something strange wash over him that wasn't the tingling he felt from the aura, nor was it fear. It was something he couldn't quite describe, and it made his fur prickle up. He wanted to know more about this wolf.

Trillith coughed, and out of the corner of his eye he saw his friend give him a sharp glance. The wolf took his eyes off him, and suddenly the connection was broken.

"Treanna, I need to have a word with you." His voice was deep and rich.

Grim glanced at Trillith and Howl. Trillith nodded and walked over to Howl, grabbing him by the arm, pulling him out the door. Howl could feel the sensation of the wolf, watching him as he was guided out of sight.