Post date: Sep 29, 2009 3:25:46 AM
I was stirred from my reverie by an unseen servant placing food before me. I had been absorbed in thought as to what to do with my new life...or should I consider it a return to my old life?
It was time to be rid of Hardun, if not physically, then psychologically. I gathered my things subconsciously aware that I might never return to The Floating Tower and teleported to The Cathedral in Troll's Bridge. The Grotesque indicated he was expecting my imminent return and he led me down to the cell in which Hardun was imprisoned. Standing in a magic circle in front of the cell, my image was projected into the cell with the vampire. The wispy vapors of the gaseous vampire solidified into Hardun, feral in his hunger.
"Hello, Hardun," I snidely greet him.
"What is this? Another spectre of my past in an effort to torment my, Mask," said the vampire.
"No, my lord," I taunt in the innocent imitation from that night so long ago. "This is the projection of my true self. Look through the portal, Lord Chicdell."
Looking as if put upon by a ungracious child, he reluctantly looks through the portal and sees the origin of the image with him in the chamber standing in the circle and The Grotesque standing beside me outside the circle, "Just the typical illusion, that is all. You are a pathetic bitch."
"I always thought of you as the king, but you were never more than a pawn," I spat condescendingly.
He flicks a hand dismissively at the portal and returns to the image lusting over it in his hunger.
"Imhiakaam has left the world, Hardun," rebukes the image. "The queen sacrifices her pawn and flees her fate."
The vampire bares his fangs as his eyes flair to fiery life and shrieks at the image.
"Now, he suffers properly," I whisper to myself as I step from the circle.
Finished with Lord Chicdell, I strolled from The Cathedral through town to the Artural estate.
As I entered the estate, I saw several older retainers and servants, who I greeted by name to their great astonishment. I was quickly embraced by the old gardener, Xavier, in whose precious fruit trees I once spent a great deal of time. Before I had climbed the stairs to the entrance of the mansion, my old nanny, Helga, practically tackled me in a hug, tears of joy streaming down both our faces. Shortly, Rojurium had come to investigate the commotion and after recovering his composure after the shock of seeing me was reproving the servants who had forgotten all pretense of propriety at my return.
I told Juri with a smile to lighten up as he escorted me into the mansion. For the rest of the day, I conferred with Juri about the state of the House, interrupted frequently by those who had just heard and came rushing in to see that I had returned for themselves.