The Forgotten Zodiac

Isslia smiled slightly, wearing the dress Welk had bought for her. She giggled at Welk's joke, but looked up as Obelisk opened the door.

"Shall we be off, then?" He smiled slightly, taking the lead up the road to the castle.

The castle itself was not so big or fortress-like as the great towers and battlements as Alastor or Storaph. It was more of a manor or mansion, though clearly the largest and most defended in the entire city. Obelisk gave his alias to the guards, and he was cleared for entrance in a mere matter of moments. They were searched for weapons, but naturally, they found none. They were being careful, not wanting to offend the king, nor his accompanyment. They were read a list of rules; magic was to be kept strictly outside, anyone caught using magic inside would be given an immediate booting from the castle. Watch your tongue, don't turn your back to the king, so on and so forth. A lot of the rules made very little sense; if any of them mentioned the 'Goddess' in any way, shape or form, they were required to pay a fine of five cookies or any equivalent in other baked goods.

Obelisk didn't seem annoyed by any of this, but everyone else seemed awfully confused at the rule stating that 'whosoever potrudes their tongue from their mouth towards the king shall be forced to chase a chicken around the courtyard, lest his tongue be cut from his mouth'.

All in all, it was a bit confusing. But they were finally allowed in. The manor itself was impressive, definitely a sight to behold. High ceilings and stone floors gave the impression of a castle, but the layout clearly didn't match up with anything they were familiar with. Rather than long hallways and rooms, it was more organized and connected.

Welk stared at their surroundings with his mouth open, one hand holding gently to Isslia's. He looked down at her and studied her dress, then said "You look really beautiful, Isslia," before he could hold it in. He blushed a bit, but said nothing else about it. He meant it, after all.

They were led to the dining room, where the king was waiting to greet them. Welk cocked an eyebrow at him, but said nothing.

Behind him, Cynyr was trying not to glare. It was only helped by Seria's soothing strokes on his back. She had been trying to help him with his problems, to no avail. All she could do was try and ease his pain.

Isslia flushed, looking away quickly. She looked up as they arrived in the dining room, and immediately blinked in surprise.

The 'king' was only perhaps 12 or 13. He seemed gloomy and downtrodden, as though someone had taken away his cake and replaced it with a steak. There was an older woman next to him, speaking quietly, but she lapsed into silence as their 'guests' arrived.

"Good evening," She said softly, blinking at them curiously. "You must be king Welk." She looked to the one in the fancy robes. "I am Bershee, sister to king Alexander. Welcome to our manor. Please, have a seat," She indicated to the chairs lined up on the other side of the table. There were just enough; of course, Obelisk had noticed one of the maids counting them as they had been read the rules.

"I don't like them," Alexander said immediately, before they could even sit.

"Don't like us?" Welk said, not knowing why he smiled when he said it. "You've only just met us! Give us a chance, buddy! Er, I mean, your majesty." He approached and gave a deep bow, one so rediciulously over-done that he nearly toppled over. "Sorry," he said, then took his seat. "Look, we're just here to discuss stuff. We're not here to do anything bad."

Cynyr muttered something, but Seria threw him a reproachful look.

"Discussing stuff is bad. It's boring. Boring things are bad." Alexander picked at his steak, then picked up his knife. He regarded it for a moment, then turned his gaze on Welk, looking very much like he wanted to throw the knife at the 'king'. Bershee gave him a sideways glance, and he slowly lowered the blade and cut his meat.

"I accepted your letter because I wanted to hear your account on the king of Bulliete. And Bulliete in general. I want to know as much as possible, in order to secure our victory against them. It is imperative that we defeat him swiftly and in as few moves as possible; already, this tense war has driven us close to our breaking point." Bershee said quietly. "Bulliete...is a dangerous, evil country. They must be destroyed, lest we all be destroyed. They will not stop at just Herrace. You must be aware by now that the only reason he brought you here was to get Alastor's armies on his side. A scout of ours recently spotted Alastorian soldiers being brought in by boat; it is likely that a forged letter was delivered to your castle asking for backup."

"It's more likely that they were told that their king ran off to the battlefeild like an idiot." Obelisk commented lightly.

"That would make sense...the advisors are always fussing over Welk." Nate snorted a bit.

"Right, well...we were hoping you could do something about it before...well, before they reach the battlefield. You know your armies are superior to both Herrace's and Bulliete's. Herrace uses stealth, Bulliete uses brute force...Alastor actually stops and takes a moment to think about what they're doing." Bershee concluded. "We need you to stop those soldiers, first of all."

"BORING." Alexander growled. "They're making way too much noise, Bershee...make it stop."

((Seeming to hear irritating sounds, check. Affinity to blades and small knives, check. Urge to stab people, check.

Alexander has Dark Magic riddling his miiind~))

((Theese boy is UNACCEPTABLE!))

Welk frowned at Nate, knowing he was making a subtle, gentle jab at the half-cat's ability to get into trouble, then glanced over at Alexander and said "We're on your side, bud. Give us a chance to explain everything first. Dmitry! Yo! Where'd you get to?"

"I'm sitting across from you!" the prince said, frowning mightily.

"Oh. Right," Welk said, grinning. "Well, tell about your run-in with death, yeah?"

Dmitry stared at him, wondering if the half-cat had some sort of brain injury, then slowly began the recounting of Bulliete's abuse. Once he was finished, he lapsed into silence, tucking Marion's head against his neck.

"See, you guys are our only chance," Welk summed, folding his hands lightly. "Even with our armies, we can't do much if we're facing two. We need to unite."

"I was genuinely hoping you'd say that," Bershee seemed to relax a bit. "Izan...this cruelty and vicious insanity can go on no longer. I'm glad you seem to see things the same way I do." She smiled a bit. "Now, enough talk. Please, eat the meal that has been prepared for you. I hope you enjoy it, these are some of Herrace's delicacies."

There were a variety of meats on the table, among other things. Plenty of 'other things'; a type of large snail, a delicious looking soup, a tray with an array of what appeared to be massive cockroaches, and some sort of gelatin. A bit of food had been taken from every tray and platter; Obelisk had already eaten his fill, and tested for poison at the same time.

"Yes, it's quite delicious. Do enjoy, friends," He said with a small smile, basically saying that it was fine to eat.

Welk dug in immediately, emmersing himself in one of his other favorite passtimes; eating. There was friendly chatter all around as a few plans were tossed about, but they were mostly calm and enjoying their food.

Dmitry seemed too stricken to eat, and he picked listlessly at his plate. He let Marion eat off of his plate, since she was still wrapped around his waist. He seemed to take a bit of enjoyment out of giving her nibbles from his fork and kissing her scaled brow. He still seemed nervous, however. Like he was expecting something...

Welk coughed after a particulary big bite and sent a bit of flame scattering from his mouth. He chuckled, settling for smaller bites.

Alexander reacted badly to the flames. He threw his plate aside and curled up tightly in his chair, clamping his hands over his ears. "Stop it, stop it, stop making so much noise!" He wailed.

"Calm down, Alex," Bershee soothed, getting out of her chair and kneeling next to his. She looked towards Welk. "He's sensitive to magic. Please, try not to do that again..."

"Sensitive to magic? What's this about noise?" Nate frowned a bit. Why did that sound so...familiar?

"I don't know. He started doing this about a year ago. It doesn't matter..."

"I suppose not," Nate shrugged, going back to his meal.

"You have to eat something," Marion spoke next, talking to Dmitry. "I'm not eating another bite until you have some, yourself. You'll kill yourself by refusing food like this..."

"Sorry," Welk said, but he now looked preturbed. He was staring at Alexander as if the boy were a bad memory, something dredged up from a long time ago. Considering all they had been through, it was a wonder the ditzy half-cat could remember that far back, but now he was thinking of a different time...one shortly after a raven-haired boy had fallen out of a tree near two very unsuspection lerloches. Where another woman, whom the boy had believed was his mother, had curled up wailing about noise when there was no sound to be heard...

Welk swallowed heavily and didn't seem to keen on eating afterwards. Instead, he looked restless and uneasy, and he kept glancing towards the door.

Dmitry winced and patted Marion's nose, then said "I'll be fine. It's just...this is where she came, remember?" Speaking of his sister pained him, and he winced again.

"We could ask about her..." Marion murmured, bumping his chin with her nose. She looked at the others; they were starting to look uneasy, too. Welk and Cynyr, mainly, though Obelisk had an odd look on his face. A look of curiosity, mostly, but also a bit of alarm. Marion watched as maids strode about the room, one of them closing the curtains to blot out the moonlight. The others began putting out candles here and there, dimming the light in the room. It seemed to help calm Alexander down. After a few minutes more of attempting to calm the boy, Bershee finally stood and returned to her meal while a maid brought in a large chocolate cake.

"Oh, chocolate. My favorite." Isslia smiled. She hadn't noticed much of anything wrong, although she was aware that Alexander was acting odd. Of course, she didn't know. She hadn't been there, so many years ago.

Welk's hand slowly found her knee and rested there lightly, as if he wanted to make certain that she was still there. He looked a bit pale in the dim lit, not his usual calm tan. He glanced over at Cynyr, who looked as if he was on the verge of a heart attack or something. He had a hand placed on his chest with his head dipped slightly, looking very uncomfortable and sick. Seria leaned over and folded her hand over his chest, feeling quietly, then stood up and said "I'm sorry to intrude, your majesty, but my husband is unwell. I need to take him somewhere that he can rest. By your leave..." She helped him stand up and he swayed at once, gasping and going ridged as he grabbed the chair to remain upright. Seria put her arms around him immediately, trying to help him stand up, which he slowly did.

Welk stood in concern, but slowly sat back down, knowing he still had to keep up appearances.

"Go on," Bershee dipped her head, watching as Seria helped her husband back out of the room. Of course, they couldn't turn their back to Alexander. Such a thing was practically a crime, even if the boy was too busy eating cake to notice anyone.

"I can help," Cyprus stood, but as usual, no one seemed to hear him. Seria was too occupied with Cynyr to pay attention, and Naybrin...well, he appeared to be taking a nap. So Cyprus sat down again, mentally considering getting up and following Seria anyways. His mind's thought process was interrupted when he felt something he hated. Everything was moving so quickly...one second, he was just sitting, the next, he felt Death's cold, invisible hand in the room. And then the boy next to him forced what appeared to be a bloody knife into his hands.

"GUARDS!" Alexander screamed, baking away from the table as Bershee bled on it, her precious crimson life gushing from her neck. She was already gone. He wailed loudly, panicking.

"Wh-what the heck?!" Nate stood at once, staring at Alexander.  "Why...?!"

Nate wasn't the only alarmed one. Cyprus stood and whimpered over the corpse, staring at the blood on his hands. He realized too late what was going on, and he tried to pull off a teleport; but it was no good. He hadn't fully grasped Yemara's skills yet. He couldn't use his own magic in this land. So of course, he was tackled and wrestled to the ground, pinned in mere seconds by men twice his size. He was dragged off without word or question, while Alexander hugged his dead sitter and wept, his facade working perfectly.

"Wh-what the heck?!" Welk said, standing at once, fearfully. "Cyprus didn't do anything! He was just sitting there!"

He froze when he saw Death, the skeletal titan, swept slowly through the room. It appeared that he was the only one to see him, though why, he didn't know. The titan hovered over Bershee's corpse and slowly held his hand over her body, pulling her soul out and studying it for a moment before letting go and blowing gently on it, watching as it rose up through the ceiling. He then turned and stared right at Welk, and for some reason, the half-cat thought he was looking right into his soul.

He pointed once, without hesitation, at Welk's chest, then vanished.

Welk realized he had been holding his breath and gasped, still standing. "Cyprus did nothing!" he shouted, aware that Naybrin had landed on his shoulder over Nate's.

"Yes, he did! He was making noise! Too much noise, too much!" Alexander yelled back. "So I killed two birds with one stone. You lot need to leave. Do whatever the heck Bershee wanted, I don't care." He crossed his arms and stuck his tongue out at them. "So long forever!" He spat at them, taking up the knife and stomping off, his chin held high defiantly. After he left, a couple more guards came in to clean up the mess left behind.

"You should leave," One warned, ignoring Welk's protests.

"Come on," Nate grabbed Welk by the arm, dragging him back. "We should go. We can save Cyprus later." He took Isslia's shoulder in his other hand, leading the two of them to the door.

"Nate, let me go-" Welk started, but the dragonian had already pulled him from the room. "He can't just - you saw what he - he's a little - LEGGO OF ME!" He employed a few choice words along the way, but when Isslia took his hand, he slowly relaxed and allowed himself to be let out with the others. As they headed back towards the inn, he slowly picked up speed, until he was racing over the ground towards the inn. "Werr!" he called, as soon as he opened the door. He bounded off towards his friend's room, where he was still sitting with the sleeping Lexi. Welk shifted forms and shoved his head into Werr's lap, whimpering.

((Not the inn, Obelisk's house.))

"Welk...? What's wrong? What happened?" Werr stirred, opening his eyes, as he had been dozing off next to Lexi's bed.

"That was a bit of a fiasco..." Isslia murmured, her head hung low. "Alexander...he killed his own sister."

"R-right in front of you?" Werr spluttered. "Skies above, what kind of crazy king is he?!"

"He was just a boy. Younger than Welk." Nate snorted. "He framed Cyprus. It was messy..."

"That's not good...what'll they do with him? Cyprus doesn't seem the type to last long in prison..." Werr said thoughtfully. "Or under anyone's knife. They could very well kill him, Nate, we've got to get him out of there..."

((Where is my brain today? I'll fix it.))

Welk pushed closer against Werr, slowly resting back on his haunches and putting his paws over Werr's leg, keeping his eyes closed. "Did Cynyr and Seria make it back safe?" he asked.

Clearly, in his haste to get to Werr, he had ignored the fact that the two had been sitting in the living room, with Seria next to her husband, who was laying on the couch. She had her hands folded over his chest, right over where his heart was, and they were talking in hushed voices.

"Cynyr acted weird while we were in the castle," Welk muttered, opening his crimson eyes slightly. He closed them again after a moment, exhaling with a small moan.

((UNDER THE COUCH. LOOK THERE.))

"They're in the living room." Nate said.

"He was acting weird?" Werr frowned. "Explain."

"He seemed...overly nervous. And then he acted like he was in pain..."

Werr rubbed his temples in irritation. "He's been 'stiff' recently, too...whatever that means."

"We have too many problems on our hands for this..." Nate growled.

"You can say that again." Ophile snorted. "Shall I sneak into the castle and make sure they don't kill him."

((Ohmai.))

Naybrin landed lightly on the wolf's head, saying "Yes, make certain that he is not harmed." He wiggled off of Ophile's head and took his human form, pausing to give a doubletake at himself in a mirror before exiting the room.

Welk watched him go, then settled back against Werr with a sigh.

Back in the main room, Seria looked up when a door opened very slightly. Luen peeked out hesitantly, his eyes rather suken and his skin sallow, but he looked normal again. He slowly glanced around, then sniffed. Once he was satisfied, he carefully crossed to the room Forin was in, tripping twice and hitting the door on the second.