Ch. 28: The Baron

I must've dozed off for some time, because when I came to, I saw that darkness had fallen outside. After a moment I realized that there was a large commotion in the spacious entry hall that I had been resting in.

Beside me, Illesior, who had been sitting on the plush couch quietly, pricked his ears. "You're finally awake," He murmured, stroking my mane. "You sleepy thing. You must be exhausted."

I ignored him and sat up, albeit with some difficulty. "What's going on?" I asked after a moment, glancing around. Servants rushed back and forth, and I couldn't tell what exactly they were doing. Some stood off in the corner, speaking in hushed voices to one another. "Is someone here?"

Illesior twitched his ears apologetically. "I'm afraid that I do not know." He glanced up and motioned for one of the aetyrim drifting around aimlessly, a tall dark blue female, to come over. Instantly she complied, but not before a familiar face joined her.

"Rhoe, Vrotaz," Illesior asked, "What's the meaning of all this commotion?"

Rhoe dipped her head. "I do not know the exact details myself, your highness, but I overheard the Head of the Guard mention something about an 'esteemed official'."

Illesior, seeming unsatisfied with her answer, then turned to his advisor expectantly. Vrotaz sighed. "My Lord, I'm afraid I am just as in the dark as you are."

"Then what are you doing here, loafing around?" Illesior complained, throwing up his hands. "Go! Find out who's here and why! And calm down the housemaids and whatnot while you're at it!"

Rhoe's jaw trembled with a brief spark of fear, but she quickly nodded and ran off. Meanwhile Vrotaz looked around warily, before leaning in to murmur in the Prince's ear, "I may have lied, my Lord. I didn't want to send the young guard into panic, but someone from the West has come here. He is waiting at the gate. He has been for roughly an hour or so."

Illesior's fur spiked. "...WHAT?! What- why wasn't he let in?!"

"Because you told the Head of the Guard to worry about it later," Vrotaz replied dryly. "Now you have to head out there and greet him yourself. It's your duty as a Prince."

Illesior groaned, throwing his head back against the couch. "Do you at least know who he is?"

Vrotaz froze briefly. "...The Baron of the West," He said slowly. "Dorai'Kur Arrakhan, esteemed Lord of the shadow that lays beneath the God's Headrest."

Illesior paused. I could see his hands trembling as he caught his breath mid-inhale. "...The Baron? Why… why would he come here?"

Vrotaz shrugged. "I do not know." Then the advisor glanced at me. "Illesior, before you go out there, you need to make a choice. Do something with this Albino."

"Like what?" I dared to ask, straightening myself.

The violet aetyr fixed me with a serious stare. "Dorai'Kur hates your kind. We had to replace the White Manes at the palace gates with Black Manes in order to appease him. I'm asking your master whether or not he plans to hide you or keep you out in plain sight. Either one is risky, but one is more humiliating than the other."

Illesior leaned forward expectantly, not seeming worried in the slightest at Vrotaz's proposition. "...And what do you propose?"

Vrotaz wiped his brow before looking at me apologetically. "My Lord, I understand entirely without doubt that you view the Albino as your confidant. But Dorai'Kur will not. If you two are seen together, he will understand that she is your slave. And if you dare correct him…" The senior aetyr sighed. "...Then we will have trouble on our hands. You cannot tell him that White Manes have more privilege than they used to the last time he was here. Do I make myself clear?"

My jaw dropped. "Vrotaz, I'm sorry, but last I checked, Dorai'Kur doesn't rule Aetyria. Omani and Illesior do. If they changed the law since he was last here, then why does he have a say?"

"You don't understand." Vrotaz asserted. "Dorai'Kur is said to be more powerful than the entirety of our guard force itself. The only reason he hasn't forced his way in is because he isn't a brute."

Meanwhile Illesior rested his head on his hands, thinking. Finally he spoke. To my shock his voice was a lot steadier than I would've expected. "...I do think disguising the Albino as a slave is unconventional, I admit, but I'm open to the idea. Keeping her hidden won't do, after all." He sighed and leaned back against the couch, looking thoughtful. "How do we go about this, Vrotaz? Should she wear prisoner's clothes?"

"I was thinking about something a little more… benign," Vrotaz answered, his face becoming flushed. "Make it obvious that she belongs to you in the eyes of the Baron. Give her a bracelet or a collar with your inscription on it."

For all of this, I had been bristling with barely concealed indignation, but that was the last straw. I finally snapped. "C-COLLAR?! What am I, a pet?!" I stared up at Illesior angrily. "Please tell me you're not seriously considering this," I pleaded. "Anything else is better than that."

Illesior nodded. "I agree. It's definitely humiliating, and she has done nothing to deserve it." He fixed Vrotaz with a glare, but a small smirk played at the edges of his lips. "And yet… something about it tickles my fancy…"

I leaped to my feet, shocked and wide-eyed. "WHAT! Illesior, you're MAD!"

The Prince waved his hand. "Oh, keep your fur on, dear. It's only for when the Baron's present. It's not an all-the-time thing."

"It's bad enough that you think it's a good idea!" I snapped, my fur flaring up. "I've had it up to here with you! First you made me your 'personal property' without me knowing, and now you want to make me wear a collar?"

Vrotaz glanced at Illesior, watching his reaction. To my surprise the Prince barely moved. He folded his hands across his lap and hummed thoughtfully. "...Would you rather wear a bracelet, then?"

I let my fur lay flat. "...Yes, that would be better."

Illesior smirked. "Excellent. Vrotaz, go fetch her the golden bracelet I have in my room. It has the mark of the Darkdawn family inscribed on it."

"I know, my Lord," His advisor muttered, before turning and racing to the stairs.

Illesior gazed down at me, but before he could speak I rose to my feet. "Illesior, I'm going to let you know ahead of time that, whatever you're doing, I don't feel comfortable with it. Don't think you can just push me around."

He laughed. "Oh, you've gotten fiery, haven't you? You used to be so shy…"

"Enough with that." I turned from him to find Vrotaz had returned, trotting towards me with a golden object in hand. He handed it to Illesior with a grunt. "Quick, put it on her," He muttered. "We've wasted enough time as it is."

Illesior took it from him and reached out to take my hand, stretching it out before sliding the golden bracelet onto my wrist. "Your arms are so small, my dear," He murmured. "Be careful. This could slide off quite easily."

I scoffed and withdrew my hand, then turned to look at it closer. The band was a shiny, polished gold, carved with intricate details of flowers and fire. In the center was a dark red flat with the insignia of the Darkdawn family marked into it: A rose guarded by seven stars.

"Follow me," Vrotaz said suddenly, and we strode to the entrance of the main hall. Outside it was dark, and I could see a dark figure surrounded by aetyrim holding torches and spears.

Illesior trotted towards them, pushing aside several people before coming to a standstill. I stopped beside him and caught my breath.

"Greetings, Prince." A low, rough voice rumbled. The tall figure stepped into the firelight and his appearance made my heart run cold.

The Baron was towering in height and muscular, his muscles rippling under his short fur. His mane was midnight black, and his fur was dark violet with neon lime and magenta stripes. His eyes glowed electric blue menacingly. He wore a dark green vest that hung open, revealing his toned body.

I stepped behind Illesior. The sight of the Baron made me lose myself for a moment. This was an aetyr who despised White Manes more than I thought was possible, a cruel being who enslaved them for his own enjoyment. He hadn't noticed me yet; instead, he was staring at the Prince who guarded me from his hungry gaze.

Dorai'Kur fixed Illesior with an unreadable stare, a smirk playing at the edges of his lips, revealing the long fearsome canines that adorned his teeth. "Is there any reason why you never let me in sooner, Izuviar?" He rumbled.

Illesior's fur rose. "Haven't you heard?" He growled. "Prince Izuviar died years ago."

Dorai'Kur looked taken aback, but nodded briskly. "I apologize. I take it you are Denethium, then?"

Illesior looked offended. "He is also dead," He snarled, balling his fists. "Don't you remember? You came here years ago to avenge them."

"I came to avenge their father the King," Dorai'Kur replied, looking bored. "But you look like the dead Princes. Who are you, if they aren't here?"

Illesior trembled with barely disguised anger. "...I am Prince Illesior the First," He growled through gritted teeth. "I assume you've heard of me, at least?"

The Baron laughed, and to my surprise he leaned over and ruffled the Prince's hair. "I remember now. You were hardly knee height to me when I last saw you. How's your mother the Queen? I take it she's doing well since the King's death?"

Before Illesior could reply, Vrotaz pushed in behind him. "My Lord, shouldn't we head inside? The Queen Mother would love to see you."

"Gladly." Dorai'Kur agreed. He glanced over his shoulder and motioned for a small group of aetyrim to follow. "Come."

As he passed Illesior while following Vrotaz back inside, the muscular aetyr murmured to him, "I hope you won't be offended by my having taken along some guests."

"None taken," Illesior muttered, clearly meaning the opposite. Yet the Baron took no notice.

After the Baron passed, the Prince motioned for me to come to his side, and when I had met his pace he leaned over and muttered into my ear, "Stay by my side, no matter what happens. I don't like the looks of him. We're lucky he hasn't noticed you yet."

"I can hold my own, Illesior," I asserted, despite not feeling at all confident. "You have to remember that I'm not just some helpless White Mane. I'm your confidant. I'm a resident Sorcerer. I'm the Bookkeeper."

Illesior gazed at me with adoration. "Ah, you always know how to lighten my spirits, Aven. Very well then, but still- take care near the Baron. I fear that he isn't here purely for the sake of a 'friendly reunion'." He ruffled my hair. "Keep your ears and eyes open. Let me know if anything seems off. And always keep your bracelet visible, if possible."

I nodded and shielded my eyes as we stepped back into the golden glow of the palace halls. Dorai'Kur was standing expectantly, waiting for Illesior, when his eyes widened.

"Illesior, I never took it you had a liking for slaves like myself," He murmured appreciatively, staring at me with a curious, probing gaze.

Illesior rested his hand on my shoulder protectively. "...Yes, she is my slave," He forced out through gritted teeth. "She's very helpful."

"Helpful?" Dorai'Kur raised an eyebrow, and to my dismay he started towards me. "Interesting. I've never seen such a fur pattern before… or, rather, lack thereof." I forced myself to keep my knees from buckling under me as I stared up at the Baron, who was a few inches taller than Strubin. Dorai'Kur leaned down to get a closer look, licking his lips thoughtfully. I flinched when I felt his musky breath wash over my muzzle.

"She's rather young and small," The Baron mused. "And her fur is nearly completely white. Where did you find her? The God's Headrest?"

Illesior trembled briefly with indignation, before promptly adopting a more cordial tone, likely to appease the Baron. "No, she came from Gatesborn," He replied. "And she is young. She'll be seventeen years of age in two moons or so."

"What an unusual slave," Dorai'Kur continued to murmur. Suddenly he grinned, reaching into his cloak to withdraw a hefty bag of coins. "Quite the rarity you have there, young Prince. Perhaps I can make you an offer for her?"

Illesior growled low in his throat, instinctively drawing me closer to him. "She's not for sale."

The Baron clicked his tongue with mild amusement. "'Tis a shame. You see, I've brought slaves of my own, and I was hoping that perhaps you'd indulge me."

Illesior stepped forward menacingly, staring up at his towering form. "Did I stutter?"

Dorai'Kur laughed. "You did not. You're headstrong, just like your father." He grinned deviously as he reached down to ruffle the Prince's hair again, prompting the black aetyr to growl deep in his throat. Seeing the way the Baron talked to the Prince, I couldn't help but think that in his mind, Illesior was nothing more than a young boy. Maybe that was why he seemed so condescending.

Suddenly the Baron turned to Vrotaz. "I request the Queen's audience," He said. "Will you go seek her?"

Vrotaz nodded. "I don't see why she would refuse." With that he turned and sprinted off, each stride taken with purpose.

Dorai'Kur chuckled and faced Illesior, smirking. "I've seen your slave. Would you like to see mine?"

Illesior's fur flared briefly. "...I wouldn't prefer to, seeing as I've already got the perfect one right here. But I'll oblige."

The Baron laughed. "Very well." He snapped his fingers, and immediately two White Manes raced up to his side. I was taken aback by their appearance: They were golden-furred, with curious patterns and small ears. They were both male and had short cut manes. Yet they seemed malnourished, chains on their wrists binding them together within five feet of each other, and scars were present all along their arms. Both of them wore a heavy steel collar around their necks. Their dreary green eyes seemed distant, as if they weren't all there.

"These are mine," Dorai'Kur said proudly. "Zayex and Azuhren. Pitiful White Manes, but that's to be expected. They do as they're told and exactly how I want it."

Illesior took a step forward, examining them closely. "...That look in their eyes is not natural, Baron. I take it you've utilized a mind binding spell to keep them under your control?"

The Baron shrugged. "You have a fine eye, young Prince. But without the spell, they would be quite a handful to deal with. You understand, don't you?" He didn't wait for an answer and instead found Vrotaz running back towards us. "Where is the Queen?"

Vrotaz stopped. "She will be here momentarily." He caught sight of the slaves and paused, horror briefly flashing in his eyes before he regained his composure. "...Who are these, my Lord?"

Dorai'Kur grinned wickedly. "Only my slaves. Zayex and Azuhren, they called themselves. They have no name now in their minds because they only know mine and mine only. They serve me alone."

Vrotaz nodded slowly, then paused as a commotion came from behind him. Dorai'Kur caught sight and grinned, bowing down on one knee. "My Queen."

Illesior frantically motioned for me to bow, shoving me down to mimic the action of the Baron. I complied with some effort and when I dared to glance up again, I saw Omani standing in front of us, flanked by a few servants and advisors. Unydae was present among them.

Omani stared down at the Baron. "Greetings, Baron Dorai'Kur Arrakhan." She spoke smoothly. "It is an honor to see you here once again. What brings you here?"

Dorai'Kur looked up at her with a smirk, then rose to his feet and strode to her, his form dwarfing her shorter stature. "I came here on business," He replied with a purr, before bending down on his knee again and bringing her hand to his lips. "But my main purpose was to give her highest Majesty the humble reverence from a aetyr such as I. My Queen, I am in your service."

"You are welcome here," Omani replied, a smile crossing her face. "We owe you many things for all that you've done for us. You avenged my husband the King Xeviar II, and the lives of my sons. If it weren't for you neither I nor my successor Prince Illesior would be here today."

Dorai-Kur grinned, rising to his feet once more. "If you owe me, my Queen, then I have come to make a request."

"You may make it," Omani replied.

The Baron cleared his throat. "The land of Aetyria has been left without a King for ages, and I give all due respect to the Crown Prince, but I'm afraid he is not ready to take the crown at a moment's notice should something happen to our breathtaking Queen. So I am here to make a proposal."

Omani raised an eyebrow. "What kind of proposal, Baron Arrakhan?"

Dorai'Kur smirked. "I am asking you for the right to be made Darkdawn, in the wake of giving my Queen a new companion."

"That is quite the proposal." The Queen prodded her chin thoughtfully, looking pleased. "It is true, I have been rather lonely without a King to rule by my side. Let me think it over and I assure you that a decision will be made… likely in your favor." Dorai'Kur's eyes brightened, and he grinned, his pearly teeth glistening in the warm light. "As you wish, my most delectable Queen. I am yours to rule as you please." He bowed and turned, motioning his two slaves to follow him. Without a word they immediately heeded his call.

As soon as he was out of earshot, Illesior pulled me to my feet and rushed over to his mother, eyes wide. "Mother, what are you doing?" He spat. "The Baron is a war criminal! He has slaves in his possession despite our new rulings outlawing it! He has tortured countless White Manes and done horrible, unspeakable things! And yet you're considering marrying him?!"

Omani fixed her son with a steel glare. "What say do you have in that matter, Illesior?" She asked. "You dote on a White Mane. That is also against our law, and yet you don't call yourself a criminal, do you? I've allowed it so far. You should be honored that I haven't punished you."

Illesior grit his teeth. "I'm not torturing her. I am just! I am the right Prince! Why don't you ever listen to me, Mother? Where has your discretion gone?"

Omani growled deep in her throat and her son took a step back. "How dare you say that to me!" She spat. "If you weren't my flesh and bone, I would have you struck dead. As for torturing the White Mane, I've received word that you have, in fact, done things not rightful of a Prince. I won't list them, but you know your crimes." She turned before he could speak and motioned to Unydae, who was standing nearby. "Unydae, my general officer. Send word to the chefs to get a banquet ready. The Baron has arrived."

Unydae nodded and left, a few other advisors following close behind. After she left, Vrotaz turned to Omani and bowed his head. "My Queen, I apologize. Your son has not been right in the head for some time." Illesior growled as Vrotaz continued, "I request, however, that no mention is to be made of the Albino's position as Bookkeeper nor the Prince's confidant, as well as other White Manes presiding in high positions within The Capital walls."

Omani nodded. "I will uphold it to the best of my ability. Vrotaz, what do you think of the Baron? Is it in our favor to fulfill his wishes?"

Vrotaz was quiet for a moment before replying. "...I personally do not agree with his beliefs, but it is ultimately your law we uphold, my Queen. Do as you wish."

Omani nodded. "You are honest. I honor that." She shot Illesior a glare. "Unlike some others who should be more like you, but that is a matter to be dealt with later. But come- let us have some festivities. I get the feeling that the Baron isn't only here for my hand in marriage."