Returning to the manor, her walk had been less peaceful than when she first left, always checking over her shoulder, anxious about the bounty on her head. Whether it was true or not didn’t matter; the fact that people within Danmor knew she was there and had knowledge of what she did in Cras was enough reason to be nervous. They had already sent people once; it wouldn’t surprise her if they did it again, but with less obvious ans.
Walking through the halls of the manor once inside, she ignored everything that she previously would have admired and found Seth, watching him carefully stitch the book together. "Isis... what’s wrong?" His cheerful tone fell, seeing her darting gaze.
"People know what we did in Cras," Isis said and waited for the expected reaction. Instead, Seth shrugged and carried on with his work, "Didn’t you hear ?"
"It’s expected. Did you think we were one and done? Don’t worry too much, however. Under Cecile’s protection, no one will dare do anything," Isis scoffed and ran a hand through her hair as the other touched where her knife was previously placed on her stomach.
"I was kidnapped." Seth finally paused and put down the book, looking at her strangely. Interlocking his fingers, he took a deep breath as his eyes chilled.
"What?" There was an anger in his tone that he failed to hide as he leaned forward, pressing her to explain with his eyes. Recounting everything that happened after she left the collesum, Seth slowly nodded and took a deep breath once she finished. Rising, he walked to a desk and pulled out the handcannon from the top drawer and then grabbed the Lunarian mask.
"See Ceiceil and inform her. Have a bath and eat. I need to pay soone a visit."
"Seth," Isis said, stepping into his path, "You aren’t gonna do anything stupid." Seth stared at her before flashing a playful smile and touching his heart.
"Are you worried about , my dear?" Rolling her eyes, she stepped to the side and smiled.
"Whose gonna be my translator if you die?" Seth gave an equally amused smile in reply and pocketed the hand cannon.
"Our journey isn’t over yet, Isis, don’t worry. I just need to remind so people why my bounty is so low compared to yours." Walking past, his smile fell, replaced by a forlorn look, his gaze sharp.
.
.
.
Slamming his fist on the tal door, Seth waited as the slit in the door opened. As soon as it did, he stuck the hand cannon through, blocking it from closing, tilted the barrel down, aid at the person’s shoulder, and pulled the trigger. "Open it." Coldly ordering, he heard a series of locks be undone and stepped back, pointing the weapon forward.
Two people stepped out, swords raised, but hesitated, releasing who had co. "May I co in?" Politely asking, his hand not shaking, holding the weapon towards one of their heads, he waited. From behind, David stepped forward and looked Seth up and down before turning towards the man he had shot. Grinding his teeth in anger, he nodded and let Seth in before ordering soone to patch the injured man up.
"What pleasure do I owe you?" David said, without fear, taking a seat and staring at Seth.
"Shall we drop all pretence? Stay away from my companion. Don’t think I know about your organisation. I was alive when it was founded, child." David frowned as the masked man stepped forward. Signalling for one of his people over, he whispered in their ear, and they nodded, running off.
"Then we are eting a respected senior, if your claim is true, however." David looked Seth up and down, "I don’t recall Lunarians living to 120."
"Whoever said I was Lunarian by blood." Seth replied, staring into the man’s eyes, "I am being polite, as for your companions’ injuries." Reaching into his pocket, he pulled out a small potion, "That should cover it. Now, whilst I am being polite, stay away. I will not have you or this endless endeavour impede mine and hers’ enjoynt."
"We already said we would. The Lady made it clear." David replied with a smile, "Although, indulge . Why is a Moon worshipper tagging along with one of those creeps obsessed with death?"
"Don’t pretend you fell for her cute sche. I know that you know what one of those fanatics is really like. After all, you nearly lost your Veston accent after so long. Where is it from, the Hillands? It has hints of that." Seth watched the man frown and laughed, "Thank you for not exposing her. She was quite proud of that little trick, I could tell with how she spoke, and I intend to keep letting her have these little monts."
"To earn such loyalty from you. You must really adore her." David said with a sly smile.
"I love beautiful won, especially those who make things interesting." Seth raised an eyebrow, hearing the door behind David open. Looking at it, he saw a person with white hair, like moonlight itself, walking out, wearing a ceramic mask that looked forged of the moon, clear of design, unlike his. "A real Lunarian. It has been a while." Her white hair was different from Isis’s. Whilst Isis’ own was like a cloud, the woman’s hair was as if moonlight had been made tangible, translucent at the ends, looking like it glowed when hit by light.
The plain-masked lunarian looked at Seth for a mont, their black eyes, the only thing visible, widening at his mask. David watched as the woman lowered her head and frowned, realising that Seth was real and not pretending to mimic them. Seth rose and walked to the woman. Looking at her, he held his hand out, palm facing up. The woman lowered her head into it, touching her forehead on his fingers. Pulling back, Seth lifted it to his mask and touched his forehead.
"Is this ant to make feel sothing like kinship? Or have you got the proof you needed?" Seth turned to David and asked. Looking at the woman, he took a deep breath and watched.
"Noble son." The woman spoke, ignoring David’s gaze, "From what family do you hail?" Her voice was soft like water as she asked. Looking at her, Seth noticed her fiddling with her fingers and couldn’t help but smile, feeling strangely happy at seeing a Lunarian after so long. There was a brief silence as he thought, deciding to answer in the end.
"Zonaras." Saying the na, he saw the woman tense up and nod. Looking at David, she took a deep breath.
"I will not support any action taken against him or those he has under his protection."
"He isn’t Lunarian," David said, easily pointing out the difference between the two. Unlike the woman, Seth didn’t have pale skin like wax, white hair like moonlight or black fingernails; instead, having the features of a normal person.
"His mask is one of nobility and is real." The lady replied. Seth smiled, knowing she wouldn’t mistake it. The mask wasn’t made of ordinary materials, but rather of a material found only in the Lunarian holand. If a true Lunarian mistook it, they weren’t worthy of wearing one themself, no matter their rank.
"So he stole it," David said, looking at Seth, not having a real understanding of the Luar culture. The woman shook her head, patient enough to understand David’s fears.
"He inherited it. Centuries ago, the Zonaras patriarch passed his title to a non-Lunarian after having no children of his own. I assu the mask has been passed down through that man’s family over generations." David froze and statically turned to look at Seth. Looking down at him, Seth smiled.
"I told you I was alive when your little group was founded." Ignoring him, he looked at the woman, "You are mistaken, the mask has yet to be handed down. I will return to Luar when the ti cos and hand it to the ruling council for them to decide who can carry the na."
The woman didn’t question him and simply made the symbol of the moon with her hand, placing her finger tips together to create an ’O’ "Blessed is the one who carries the na of a martyr."
"Blessed is the one chosen by the moon." Replying to her prayer, Seth took a deep breath and chuckled, "If you have any Nobles of Luar in your contacts, please tell them to visit . I wish to hand this will to the ruling council so they can prepare in advance if I fail to return by my own accord." The woman nodded and bowed. Looking at David, he carried on, "Leave Isis and alone. Failure to do so, and I will inform Luar that you wish to use a child of the moon as a tool." Stepping closer, he patted David’s cheek before squeezing it, "And seeing as I carry the na of a martyr, they really won’t like that."
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