Hamlin alighted from the carriage. Holding out a hand for her to grab. Amanise taken aback at first by his generosity kept it under wraps when she saw a silhouette of another man outside.
He was putting on a show. As suspected.
Grateful, that her full face mask didn't give anything away. She held onto him. Skillfully swiping out her fan from her pocket only to slightly cover a face displaying a coy disposition.
"Thanks."
She felt a pair of eyes on her. Looking down she saw a short man donning a wolf mask which covered half of his face leaving his lips open.
He was smiling at them.
"Welcome back, Skinwalker. It's a pleasure to meet you again."
The man greeted. His voice warm and misleading. If she didn't sense the animosity, fear and tension she would have been easily fooled thinking all was well.
Her gaze narrowed at him. There was also another emotion she could sense beneath.
Overwhelming bloodlust.
What the fuck?
"Sabient, I can't quite say the same."
Sabient's jaw clenched. Amanise watched his teeth grind together while widening his smile. Restraining his emotions.
Amanise looked beside her to check whether Hamlin equally caught it. Rather than what she expected, she was hit with an immense realisation that whoever was beside her now wasn't Hamlin.
His aura was strange, so was his disposition. Every data she imputed in her head to describe and categorise him was torn down left with an understanding that she didn't know him at all.
Stunned she froze in her spot.
Before she chuckled laughing inwardly.
Ofcourse she didn't know him. Her very own ego just didn't want recognise that fact of it yet. They have established a common ground. So the familiarity of it was messing with her perception.
The person besides her wasn't Hamlin. He was in fact Skinwalker. An aberration of what she had come to perceive of Hamlin. Like an erratic, corrupted, alien version of him.
Like a monster.
Another personality of Hamlin Drew.
From the sinster tone to the pair of bottomless pits as eyes. He then nodded at her. She flashed a stiff smile before remembering he couldn't see it because of the mask. Once again grateful the mask shields her expressions.
The surprise that emanated from Sabient drew her attention. Observing him, he bowed in front of her.
"And how may I address you, Miss?"
Amused at how quickly his gaze darted to her left ring finger before she stiffened. Hamlin didn't tell her she must think of a code alias to be addressed.
She didn't prepare herself for it. Her brain was functioning the way she wanted it to now. It was blank. Opening her mouth after the suprise induced dramatic pause. Calming herself down she tilted her head to the side. Dipping the next words that refused to leave her thoughts and decided to say in relaxed amusement.
"Harbinger."
The answer appeared to have left the two men stunned. Tension coiling their skin. Mostly Sabient, Hamlin was surprised for a few seconds accepting it the next without missing a beat. Sabient's mouth was agape before he closed it and swallowed hard.
Though she could read Sabient's emotions there was a certain wall to Hamlin's when he donned his mask.
The reaction she received from Sabient made her think she must have gone some what overboard with the whole ominous naming.
The tension was so thick she could cut it with a butter knife.
"Follow me."
The night was dark. The moon was probably out but the thick fog veiled the sky in Devon so it was much of a guess than an experience. She took the moon for granted likewise the weight of stars that usually blanketed the sky. Either way the thick fog unperturbed, constantly in motion twirling, misbehaving was a silent witness to the gathering that felt forbidden to be spoken of.
Amanise made her way down a twirling path deep within the oldest path of the woods, past trees that looked so ancient they felt alive, bearing witness to things forgotten beyond her imagination. The night air palpated, pressing against her skin like a shroud as they moved forward.
Ahead of them, Amanise saw pale light of torches beckon. They line a massive imposing stone estate that rose from the forest floor, half lost to mists and shadows. An ancient fortress hidden from all eyes, save for those who have been summoned.
The stone walls seem to breathe, almost pulse, as they entered—the whole place alive with something old and unspeakable.
What was this place called?
Her eyes inevitably trailed to Hamlin who looked forward with disinterest of someone who had seen it many times. Luckily Sabient saw it fit to explain. Or a short sort of explaination.
"This is the Castle of Veilmoore."
The castle's walls are slick with mist, it's towering spires loomed above them like slient sentinels. The environment so eerie she could swear there were restless spirits bound to this place for all eternity.
The small group increased their pace.
Inside the grand hall, every surface gleamed under the cold, steady flow of candles burning low in chandeliers made of bone and silver.
The sight of the bones narrowed her gaze in unease.
Shadows flickered along stone walls, their texture gave impressions of carved angels and demons in combat guiding them deeper into the grand hall.
The grand hall was filled with guests she assumed where the ones they kept waiting. They were already seated, each masked in elaborately carved visages of beasts, mythic creatures and disturbingly distorted faces. Some friendly, others bore grimaces so realistic Amanise felt they were watching, studying. Their figures cloaked in black attires. There were a set of guests that adorned masks so intricate and unsettling that it seemed more of a second face than a disguise. Their presence commanded attention they all sat in the high table. The most prominent ones that arrested her attention so easily was the Wolf, the Fox, the Raven and the Hawk. There eyes gleamed through the hollowed eyes of their masks each gaze heavy with secrets unimaginable and their eyes were on her. She could feel it.
Was this what it meant to become the mask? Totally engulfed by it?
A shiver ran down her spine.
Sabient led her to a seat in the corner. Hamlin disappeared to the other part of the room. Besides her, a male figure in a lesser version of the masked hawk nods politely to her, though he says nothing to her. Across the table, another noble clad in robes of dark silk and a lesser mask of a fox with glinting gem stones as eyes, leans close to another masked as an owl almost conspiratorially as they glanced at her. Their whispers were lost to her. Amanise couldn't hear no matter how much she strained her hearing. But the intent behind their gazes was clear as day. She could feel it. There wasn't titles here. Only true power was recognised.
A single bell tolls. All eyes turned to the door that opened almost immediately. A male figure appeared from the marbled lourve door. His presence commanded attention and he basked in it unapologetically, almost entitled. His powerful legs toke bold strides to the centre of the table. There was something familiar about him yet strange.
She felt like she knew him at the same time did not. He donned a phoenix mask moving towards the head of the table.
He was the master of ceremonies and apparently the one who called upon the gathering. When he opened his mouth. It confirmed her suspicion.
In a voice as smooth as poison, he welcomed everyone with subtle grace, his words curling around the room like smoke.
Their gaze crossed.
Mismatched eyes. One as dark as the starless night another burning in flames of molten fury.
Alaric.
"Tonight as we dine, let us remember that we do so only by the pact we have sworn. What lies beyond the walls belongs to our world alone, a secret bound by blood."
She had been tricked into coming to a cult gathering. Now she was being initiated. If she made a move to run. The chances of her being killed is incredibly high.
What the hell did I land myself into?