Chapter 62

"But when one doth secretively unearth mysteries in the dark, is it not fair that his silent tread be espied as well? Is it not fated that he reaps what he sows, that he earns the likeness of what he commits?"

~

The Secret Annex,

Betwixt the Princess' Residence and the Under-Ground Lair,

Kingdom of Tristendyre,

The first Phrinight of the Second month,

XXI Year of Regency

Jaycob Israel quietly strode down the spiralling and steep stairway that led deep into chasms of darkness.

He kept his body closer to the cold and stone walls, for subtlety in demeanour appeared to be the fashion of the people that worked under-ground.

A few of the gravels that paved the face of the wall, seemed as if they were ready to be displaced and fall away to form large gaping indents, but such could not be paid attention to, for the path was greatly shrouded by the darkness and there were no torches to light the way.

And, what did the irregular construct of the walls matter, when he was in such a rush?

His prime intention was to unearth the mysteries of the Under-ground after which he would make his trip to his grandfather's erstwhile detainment and decipher the art of the walls and discern the secrets that his final breath had hindered him from saying.

The elderly man's words were fresh in his mind:

"Read the inscriptions of the wall; they were wrought by my friend Zebedee Ryder. They will tell you of the things that I have endeavoured to disclose, before this end."

When he had been in the Secret Dungeons, making way from the Sepulchre, he had deciphered the presences of the Regents in a hall that was directly beneath the Princess' lodging.

It had been a sector he had never accessed, being beneath the Secret Cell and betwixt the Under-ground and the Duvessa Residence.

It appeared to be that this 'Project Incarnation Warlock' was being instituted there-under, for it was one beyond his knowledge of affairs.

Jaycob Israel had been Jehoram's closest delegate; and yet, with a business as this that seemed to have been under conduction for a long while, he was curious for the reason of the hesitation that led to the information's being withheld from him.

It may have been that he was one of those in the Imperial Castle and hence in close communion with the Princess herself.

However, with the secret annex, it was probable that Mercedes was aware of the mysterious enterprise, if not the chief subject thereof.

After all, he was indeed making way to the suspicious place by the means through her personal chambers.

He was not entrusted even the keys thereto and hence, it would be preferable to judge that there was something amiss that even Jaycob, who was aide to various wicked schemed of the Government was not informed of. Something that was surely one of grave implication.

Per-haps it was one that the Regents were engaged in before his advent to the Aristocratic forum; or he could be considered a threat in the hands of the cunning State.

And such 'State' would include Devland Zephaniah, his sworn foe. He wondered if the man had say in the matter of excluding him from divulging the affairs of the Project.

In honest consideration of proceedings, Jaycob Israel had found, when invading the Arch-Eccleissor's Office subtly, that the man had forged documents against him to portray a blasphemy that he was infidel to the Imperialism of Tristendyre in inspiring Hyll-Decanta to wage war against the Day of Coronation.

However, he had managed to retrieve the copy of his true letter. He would require convincing the Regent to believe that the man's words were folly, for he was a faithful ambassador.

When the masked man pondered over whether Jehoram would truly accept his contentions, it felt as though he coldly would not.

After all, the man's demeanour had barked suspicion against him, in the Secret-Cell earlier that night, when he had asked if he was to make journey to Hyll-Decanta and find Mercedes.

It was regular business to do so; but at present circumstance, Jaycob knew that the Regent was intoxicated by the venom that Devland must have spit, poisoning his opinions of Jaycob Oreius.

Now, the Royal Archer was commissioned to locate Sable Duvessa, in the stead of Princess Mercedes, by the Regent, with immediate discharge.

Further, his grandfather, amidst his parting wishes, had asked him so as well.

"Find the Queen, Sable Duvessa, a veteran of art; she will reveal to you the mystery of the Dragons and their ways."

It was a possible endeavour that he would eventually fulfil, for he truly had set eyes on various portraits of the woman and was aware of the guise of her presence.

Hence, his power of Grand Sight would certainly assist in his forage.

However, there were demarcations that his powers could not cross. Ergo, if the Queen was resident in a greatly distant country, across the world, it would be difficult to trace her presence and bring her.

It would cost him an avalanche of weeks to fare the great range of land and ocean and hope to achieve the prospect of seeking the Queen.

Within the span of his departure and potential return, Imogen could be killed, for the Regent would see no use in preserving her life beyond the Ceremony's orchestration.

He would have to arrive back before her deathly consequences may be met in three days' time. However, a return empty handed would not be excusable, as his own murder was planned to concrete effect by the Regents.

Jaycob heaved a sigh, for there was no remedy. He would inevitably need to bring Mercedes back to the Castle's premises.

It was questionable that she left, for the power she would be vested with as Queen of Tristendyre would be immaculate, encompassing the rights to execute even the men that were manipulating the crown.

Imogen's words haunted his spirit. It was understandable that she was defending the Princess, but there seemed no greater means of surviving the ordeal, if not without her.

However, the scarred and tall man fervently wished to believe that his plans were aligned with his grandfather's wishes. In fact, it felt like a great smite to his will to imagine that his cause would dance to the tune of the Regent's.

Jaycob knew that deep inside, he was boiling with contempt and need for revenge, (although it was conflicting), but he had never realised how truly faithful he had been in all these years of service.

He needed to avenge his family at the swiftest, but in that order, he would first need to acquire the grace of Jehoram.

Resolved to retrieve Princess Mercedes, the olive-haired man hurried his steps.

As he descended the dark and stone stairway, there were faint hues of light at the end beneath.

When the tall man had reached the landing where the steps were broad and flatter, he looked about the large and dour hall with pillars at all sides.

There was a grand gate in the one side, which appeared as if one could easily enter therein, but it was far too dark that an unequipped eye could not expect to see. Further, the bars thereof were far too hot to touch and Jaycob decided to probe deep after the other places.

The latter part of the room was condensed as he walked on, into a passageway that led to an-other large wooden door with brazen trimmings. He slowly pushed it open and it creaked, allowing path into the room it was to preserve.

The Archer knew that if it was so left precariously and unlocked, then there was chance that it was still within the hours of their business and there may be people roaming about with purpose fresh in their minds.

He was thankful for the dark cloak of Mister Joab Xavier that he was clad in.

It would enable him to blend in with the inmates of the secret project without immediate suspicion.

Jaycob walked through the bare stone room where there were various empty vials and shelves with cobs gathered at every nook and draped over the ceilings, as it would be when the place had seen finer days of bustling work but after much time had begun to be bereft of any activity.

There were wax remains from candles that may potentially have burnt their bodies to help the humans accomplish confidential scientific duties.

The room bore another opening that was provided a few unsuspended hinges as though a door that was once the possession of that entrance was taken away. It led through a long and dark passageway that ended with an-other tall door.

Pushing it, the Archer found the threshold that led to a large hall with various contents:

It seemed as a great and dimly lit laboratory with various glass vials and tubes, colourful chemicals and much research. There were no persons there and he decided it would be opportune to investigate.

Jaycob, however, thought it priority to ensure he would not have lurking company and searched for the next potential entrances that may allow the arrival of persons, which could be through a few other doors.

There weren't too many and the cloaked Archer surveyed them each:

One led to a little closet with dishes, another to a large library, and yet another to a great hall akin to the first with experiments and such and the final door led to the outer corridor (wherefrom one may find the Sepulchre after treading a distance).

It appeared as if the lair had endlessly winding and intricate construct that was well defined. It would be difficult to protect his head from recognition and thus impersonation was his only means.

Whiles he was deep in the covert, Jaycob began his study of things.

There were various liquids of vivid hues and smells brewed in the place and much of vessels bearing dangerous ingredients and grand constructs of intricate equipments, seeming as forensics to the layman's eye.

There, on the tablet of stone that made the table for study, he found brittle flagons that were filled with Threstwich.

It was far too dangerous a substance, which none was permitted to hold or concoct, but from the letter of a friend that Lady Minerva had mentioned, it appeared the Regents may have imported them for their schemes.

Unravelling the purpose was difficult and the man needed further hints.

He wished not to presently bother his precarious mission with gathering physical evidences, but to merely scout out the intentions and objectives of this Organisation.

There was another more sacredly placed vessel bearing a scarlet beverage and a book spread open by it, bearing various markings.

The masked man lifted the carafe and appraised the liquid before he decided to discern the words diarised.

The dancing light of the fire in the sconce behind him was mild and the penning appeared scrambled and curious, for the words were in codes.

There was the sound of mice, oddly, in such a swept and constantly used place, but Jaycob did not pay it much mind. Suddenly, he remembered that when the men of dark cloaks passed, there was the sound of hampering rats.

The Archer held his cowl low and pretended to be passive as if he were unalarmed, being one among the druids.

However, as he stared at the pages open before him, there upon the faint hues of light from the candle flames, arose a shadow of a hooded person behind him.

"Sir Oreius"

~