Excerpt: Starblood

Lucian sat in his study in his castle in Brising. Barely anyone remained alive since the battle with the frenzied chaos agents but in some ways that was beneficial. He would soon need to leave Brising and more men usually meant more trouble, he liked to keep things simple. Awyn's blood was safely bottled in leaded glass; Lucian had sealed it himself with cork and sealing wax. The blood radiated a glow of its own without a light source, even Lucian could appreciate the beauty in it. Currently the blood was hidden from view, Lucian needed to speak with chaos and did not need them to see the bottled blood. Lucian was a shrewd man and when approached with the offer from the realm, he had quickly asserted that they viewed him as merely a tool for their own devices. The ritual planned with the blood was something of his own cunning. If anyone could double cross Chaos, he believed he could. Rifthys knelt on the floor, putting the last symbols around the chalk circle. Lucian watched the man, loyal Rifthys, stupid Rifthys, his blood boiled again at the man's ineptitude; he could have two bottles of that silvery blood and be on his way to the Ravenpeak instead of here, now forced to explain his own mistakes to Chaos. Rifthys made the last arcane symbol with a flourish and leaned back on his heels. A well timed kick from a dainty high heeled shoe sent him scrambling away from the circle towards the wall. Another small benefit of the bloody battle was that Rifthys has become a shadow of himself at least through personality. He barely spoke a word and had retreated into his own shell, cowering before Lucian far more than the lord was accustomed to.

The lord sighed, irritably. He stood outside of the chalk circle and raised his hands half heartedly above his head. A murky grey ring upon his left hand ring finger shone dully in the candlelight and he began the slow incantation. The chalk circle glowed white then became dark, it seemed to pull in the light from the room and the ring shone similarly. The room grew cold and the air felt damp and rotten. Rifthys sat off to one side, a sickening feeling drawing over him while he watched Lucian chant the staccato words in an uncharacteristically low tone. As though encouraged by the change in atmosphere, the incantation increased in volume and Lucian's voice reverberated in the stone study. Thick grey smoke that had a greasy look to it furled from the chalk circle and rotated with purpose within the circle. More and more exuded from the chalk until Lucian and Rifthys were faced with a towering vortex of thick dark grey smoke. Lucian lowered his arms to his sides and fell silent. The smoke continued to rotate steadily, when it spoke, the candles flickered and a wet breeze swept around the room. Not strictly a voice in the technical sense, it formed words with the tender squeal of fingernails on a chalkboard and caused both men to cringe involuntarily.
“Lucian...”
Lord Lucian hated it when it spoke his name, the monstrous being was well aware of this, and it served as its motivation to do so. Lucian gave a sharp little bow and steepled his fingertips together standing before the column of smoke, staying close enough that it blew his wispy hair backwards. “Our servants' remains stain your holy ground, Lucian... Explain this”