Ch.53

The polished black carriage drew the attention of even the wealthy patrons of the hotel, a place that was more than a inn to stay at, but a den to drink and gamble to those who could afford to enter. Needless to say, from the moment that Erik stepped out of the carriage, dressed sharply as he was, the doorman knew to hold the door open for him.

The hotel lobby was of an upper class, with its patrons being of some bit of wealth or beauty, as there were many a number of waitresses whom were young and attractive. The smell of liquor was apparent in the air, as was the kind of attendant, both lustful and greedy. As Erik made his way past the many patrons, rolling dice and betting large sums of silver, he approached the desk to the back of the room.

"How may I help you, sir?" Asked the man behind the counter.

"I am looking for a young woman. A daughter of House Chamber. Light blonde hair and blue eyes."

"I am afraid you will have to be more specific... Sir. There are many under the name of House Chamber who have such traits. It is, after all, Cezarch, the land at which they rule."

"Indeed. I have heard rumors that she has fallen in with a bad crowd of fools. Touching upon substances they should fear."

"I see... That does indeed, narrow it down, but I am afraid I can no-"

Erik silenced the man with a gold coin, placed flat upon the counter. He pushed it forward, sliding it toward the edge at which the man hid it under his finger tips. He pocketed it all too fast.

"I will have a servant guide you."

Erik was led to the third floor and then down the hall to a door marked three'o'six, where even from the outside, the scent of smoked substances could scratch the nose. The bellhop that had guided him, opened the door with a key. "I hope you are of considerable standing." He said. "These are nobles. They come here often to indulge, away from the prying eyes of their families and servants."

As the door unlocked and pried itself open, thin veils of smoke seeped out. The bellhop was soon to turn and leave, but Erik halted him. "Stay. You will need to clean the mess." He told him with a callous gaze in his eyes as he shut the door behind him. The servant's spine shivered to a jump in his own skin as the door thud shut.

Inside, Erik immediately scanned the room of the dozens of faces, littered about the room. Bottles of alcohol were in the hands of half of them, while the other half were either unconscious or soon to be from the substances they were either snorting or inhaling. Three women toyed in the genitalia of a young man upon a sofa. A couple was openly engaging in intercourse. He noticed a woman, blonde hair and her top exposed, if not for her still wearing her undergarments. He made his way over to her, shoving a young man who'd stood in his way, and kicking over bottles on the floor. He quickly fixed the woman's clothing, but she awoke. "What..?!" She said with a slurred shock and fear.

Erik pressed his fingers against her temple. "Sleep." And that she did, falling unconscious as her body fell limp in his arms. He sent her away through the shfi'nyl, leaving her safely inside the awaiting carriage outside the hotel.

"Oi! Do you not have any manners?" The young man, pulling himself up off the floor, spat.

A fist to the face, brutal and without warning. The young man's nose caved in as a splatter of blood gushed from his nostrils. In the clutches of Erik's grasp, his body was not allowed to fall back. He swung his arm, throwing the now bloodied young man into a dress; his head, hitting the sharp edge, rendering him unconscious.

Upon his hands he wore blackened leather gloves, a barrier between his flesh and the filth of those he would punish.

From the outside, the awaiting bellhop could hear the sound of shattering glass and grunts of pain. The door suddenly swung open, and women, barely clothed and covering themselves with pillows and bedsheets, rushed out of the room screaming. The sight of the blood, smeared and splattered across the floor of the room, and the beaten and swollen faces of the victims, nearly made the bellhop retch. "Oh, dear goddess..." He turned away, leaning against the doorframe with a bend in his lower back. With beaded eyes, he creaked his neck to see Erik continuing to bully the young nobles. He watched as without a shred of empathy or hesitation, not even a smirk nor gleam in his eye, Erik callously lit the tip of a cigar, and twisted it into the naked eye of a young man who he forcibly held. He watched with goose bumps and a rigged spine, as the young man squirmed and screamed. Those still conscious among the victims, watched in horror.

"Why?!?!?" One of them screamed out. "Who are you?!?! What did we do to you?!?!"

"Why?" Erik coldly responded. "You are fools, the inbred offspring of traitors and cowards, who dared to overstep. I, am Erik Alexander Chamber, of House Chamber. True King of Cezarch. Brother, to my elder sister whom you dared to tempt and stain with your hubris. This is just, so receive your punishments with some sense of mature, and repent. You may still recover and live lives worth baring offspring. Otherwise... I will find you...!" He said with a sudden shift in tone, one of wrath and stern. "...And I will do far worse than you can imagine. This, is the tip of the blade. MERCY!!!" His voice, with the savageness of a tiger. "Is what I have shown you today. Mercy, to you who are ignorant." He looked down on the men, eyes of an all-seer, a demon he was, standing above them like a treasure one can not possess, to a beggar on the brink of starvation. "Tell all of my brutality, tell your families of my threats, and speak with fear when you warn anyone who would think to go against me." He said with a swift turn and a revealed gun in his hand, a pistol, at which he pointed to the head of one of the boys. "The sacrificial lamb." Having never seen such a weapon, the boy had no idea how to react. All he saw was a barrel before the nether took him. A bang that rang out through the street. A splatter of blood as the bullet drilled into the head.

From out of the hotel, Erik would leave, discarding his gloves into the street, ordering the guard as he boarded his carriage. "We are to return to the manor."

"Uh, yes... Of course."

Within the hour, the woman that Erik had taken would be left to rest within one of the manor's many rooms. She would awaken from her slumber with lifted eyelids to the sight of an open window with drawn curtains. She tossed her head to the other side to see a bedside table with a glass of water; ice cubes floating atop its surface. Slowly, she raised herself up, somewhat calmly examining her situation. She at first thought she alone in the room, until a voice welcomed her. "Good afternoon." Erik was sitting in a sofa chair, a short distance from the foot of the bed. He sat with a leg over the other, a book in hand, and a drink in the other.

She began to tense up, uncertain about her situation, she spoke with stifled breath. "Who are you?"

"Noesse. I am your brother. Erik."

"Erik...?" She scoffed angrily. "My brother is dead."

"Look at my, sister. My hair. My eyes. My face. It has been many a seasons, but surely you would not have forgotten your own flesh and blood, regardless of how much I have grown."

Indeed, Noesse could not argue. He resembled the image of his younger self, of her memory of her brother as she could recall, so much, that it was of no question. Still, she did not want to believe it. "No... You are a ghost. A nightmare."

"This is no nightmare, dear sister. I am real, and you have been cleansed of the drugs you so foolishly took. You can tell. You are clear minded, aware. It is temporary. I have given you elixirs to prevent your body from relapsing, but it will last no more than a day."

Noesse took a few moments to consider her state of mind before reaching over to the bedside in grabbing the water. She chugged it down quickly and placed back the glass. She was breathing heavily, as though she were on the verge of tears. "How? How!?" Before she knew it, Erik was standing at her side. She flinched, staring at his face up close to the feeling of nostalgia and what she could only describe as melancholy. "How...?"

"The war was not lost. Had our stance been firm, we may have driven off the Seratholic invaders, but with the betrayal of the crown and Highland's surrender, I was forced to flee."

"Is it true? What they said you did... Did you behead the Saint of Swords?"

"I did."

But how?"

"He was just a man, though gifted with power, he was no more capable of wielding it than I was at holding a blade."

"The Seratholics could not have been so easily defeated. The Paladins! They killed father, A a knight as great as any other. Tell me... In detail. What happened?"

"Father was a great knight, but he was on the center battle field. He would have been against the paladins, while I was to the west, where we only fought foot soldiers. We were but a line of defense to stop the enemy from advancing from the sides. I was among the many young men enlisted to fight. The chaos of war soon broke out, and within time, I was surrounded by the corpses of enemy and ally alike. The Seratholics, however, had the gift of healing. Every one we killed, we lost five, only for them to be magically brought back from the brink of death. I fought for hours, killing, surviving, using any means to protect my life, and take my enemy's. I used bodies for cover, threw dirt into eyes, and abandoned my comrades to die."

"The way you speak brings with it dishonor."

"It was war."

A silence brought the room to a stillness. Noesse felt as though she had to shiver, but refrained from doing so. She lightly clenched her hand with her dainty fingers, coming to terms with her brother's actions. "They say you used black magic. A blade, that took the life of the late Saint Gerald. None of their magic could heal him."

"I used magic, whether it is black or not, depends on the perspective. It is my magic, my own, personal magic that is infused into my very blood and soul. It was the magic I was born with, thusly so, if they deem it to be evil, then I will wear that title as I do my crown. Sister. I have returned to Highland with a goal. To avenge our father, our grandfather, our uncles and everyone of the Chamber name who was desecrated by their false religion. I have come, to raise from the ashes, our dynasty."

"What do you possess, that would allow you to reach for such a triumph so confidently?"

"Dear sister, when I slew their saint, I brought his head to the keep and piked it before our wounded and generals. The battle had ended, but the war had been lost once word had traveled that the king- the prince, the false king that he is, surrendered in cowardice. I could only flee, and that I did. I fled to Tel'vane, knowing that had I stayed in Highland, I would be hunted. My death was staged, and in the years I have been away, I have been amassing an empire. All that you need to know, is that I possess wealth, connections, armies, and a lack of presence. I am unknown, an invader. Highland will be taken within the year, and I will have personally defamed this would-be king, before the people of Novergracia. I require only thing from you, dear sister."

"What could I do for you? I possess no power. I am but a widower to a dying house."

"You, are the sister, to the great and terrifying, Erik Alexander Chamber. You, dear sister, have a reputation to uphold. From henceforth, you are to hold your head high, and to hold it with pride. Every word you speak, every step you take, will be recorded within the annals of history to come. You are to convince our brother to abdicate as patriarch, and side with me. Our brother will soon join us, but it will be difficult to convince so many of my return from hell." Erik suddenly snapped his finger, prompting Chester to come in with a box in arms. "Tomorrow, we will return to the palace. I have prepared for meals to be brought to your room, as well as a clothes, for tomorrow. A dress, woven from the silk of Innah'vadahn spiders."

"Innah'vadahn spiders? I have never heard of such a thing."

"Venomous and thorn covered, yet strangely beautiful creatures. They are giant, the size of small dogs, yet are docile unless provoked. They are bred within my kingdom; the Kingdom of Innah'vadah. You should remember that name well, sister. From this day forth, you are of the royal lineage of the Kingdom of Innah'vadah. First sister to the King of Innah'vadah. There is much you must learn, for now, you will have to make do with my steward, Chester. He will answer any question you may have, and provide you with any item you may require. Given time, I will arrange for a priestess to act as your lady in waiting." As he spoke, Erik made his way out of the room, leaving out the door with final words to his sister. "Pride, dear sister. Pride and modesty."

He left, leaving Chester to ask in his exit. "It is very lovely to meet you, Madam Noesse. I am Chester Brendolf. Do you have anything I may be of assistance for?"

"I... I am thirsty...?" She seemed to answer as though uncertain.

Chester grinned, yet his eyes stared straight and unbending. "Madam. My lord, is a man of great prestige and might. As his sister, I urge you to correct your speaking. I am a servant. I loyal and humble subject to the great lord, Lord Fall."

"I don't know who that is..."

"Lord Fall, is how his people know him. Milord."

"Erik?"

"I would not dare to utter his name so openly."

"What... What makes him so great that you bow your head to him?"

Chester's grin turned into a smile that stretched from ear to ear, showing off his teeth in all. He pressed his glasses up. "We are mortals, sheep and wolves in a world of life and death. He is the shepherd, wielding a scythe. His deeds are written in ink. His people worship him as a god. His enemies, fear him as they do shadows in the dark. There is too much for me to speak of when pertaining to his deeds. All that you must know, is that you are hesitant to believe, but all nonbelievers are, until they are proven wrong." Chester gave off an easy feeling that changed in a glance as he said. "Allow me to get you another glass of water." He bowed and then left.