Legend of Ransera

Part I: The Curia Umbrarum

The senators and their staff filtered into the curia at a leisurely pace, some milling about on the steps or in the lobby to greet or gossip with their colleagues. Senatrix Val'Amneris would gasp in mock surprise at the arrival of Senator Val'Mordryn, who would respond with a quip as Senator Val'Olean slipped by, silently rebuffing a greeting from Senatrix Val'Cyryth as if he hadn't even noticed the aborted overture.

By and by, all of the senators who would attend today's session were in the inner sanctum, but the chatter did not die down until a fanfare sounded.

"Oh, today is one of those sessions..." Evandrys smirked, turning to face the entry arch poised to bow as soon as the Princeps Draconum marched in, followed by his retinue and processed to the oft-absent throne set against the rearmost wall of the chamber. Consul Val'Faradin bowed, and posed the formalised obeisances on behalf of his fellow senators, before turning to address them and beginning today's session in earnest.

The session would proceed, as such sessions often did, with progress reports being exchanged between the Crown and the legislature. It would be hours before the floor was open to new business, but eventually the Consul regarded his notes before glancing up to say:

"I understand the distinguished representative from Gens Sælyan wishes to address the chamber." His pale eyes would peer across the chamber to find Janus in his usual seat. He would nod to the man and gesture for him to claim a podium.

"Please, Senator. The floor is yours." With that, Fenryl stepped back and bowed to Arvælyn's throne, before taking a seat below and to the right of the dragonborn heir.

A great deal of hushed clamour surged like a wave sweeping over the chamber, until the consul stood to rap his gavel against the podium and call for:

"Silentium!"

As the senators quieted down, savvy eyes darted from the resigning senator to the Umbrian Prince to whom he was forswearing his prior fealty oaths. At first Arvælyn's expression was one of surprise, but as that faded the golden blonde found himself chuckling.

"Well, this is a first..." He said, through a light-hearted smile. "So be it. Go in grace, Senator Val'Sælyan... You are hereby dismissed from service to the Crown of Zalkyrion."

Consul Val'Faradin, grim-faced, did not seem to share the prince's cavalier feelings on the notion of his curia losing a valued member. Gruffly he spoke:

"Very well, Senator. You will live as a peregrine of the realm until your oaths to the Luxian Crown are made and accepted. As you are dismissed from service to the Draconic Crown, so are you dismissed from the Senatus Umbrarum. The centurions will escort you from the curia." As guards in black and silver approached Janus, he would hear neighbouring senators whispering amongst themselves. He would only hear a comments here and there:

"...So the Luxium resorts to poaching from our ranks now...."

"...Who is even left in the Luxian senate anymore?"

"....Well, they say 'tis better to be first in a village than second in the capital..."

"...And I say better a ghost on the libertine prince's council than in our curia..."

Soon the mutterings were out of earshot and the former Umbrian senator was outside the curia, where a familiar figure met him upon the steps.

"Oh, you poor, poor man." Vyxis offered through an impish grin. Their Resplendence, Drævos Val’Aværyan Vyxis Dux, was the baseborn child of Prince Drævyn: Paterfamilias of Gens Danann-Sol'Aværys. Their father sat on the very same council that Janus had just announced his nephew would soon be joining. They, themselves, were often sent to sit in the Umbrian curia as Luxian ambassador and perhaps Janus might have heard about some of their exploits with his nephew during the Dæmon affair. Whatever the case, they sidled up to tuck their arm into the crook of Janus' and began to walk him down the stairs.

"Do you have any idea how fucking incensed your soon-to-be liege is going to be when he hears what you just did? Your Grace just stood in a formal senate session and insinuated that His Serene Starlit Highness bribed you into renouncing the Zalkyrians by rewarding your family with lofty positions in the Luxium. Called him out by name and everything, not a care in the world, didn't you?" They cackled, patting Janus on the hand.

"I'll not be the one to deliver these news to the Platinum Prince. That's for sure." They released their grip upon Janus' arm, "But a word of unsolicited advice: You may wish to get ahead of this ere you stand before the Luxian senate. He's far more severe when he has an audience. Perhaps, if you're lucky and catch him in the right mood, he'll only blame you personally and not extend his wrath to consume your entire family. Toodle-oo!" With that, Vyxis would chuckle to themselves and continue along on their merry way.

Part II: The Palatium Furiarum

Janus would arrive in the Palatine District under much the same circumstances as he had a few days earlier. The area designated for Traversion Arrivals was just about as busy as it had been, and was similarly policed by a small host of Golden Guard overseen by centurions of the Aværyan Guard. Once again he would be nodded through and given leave to approach the palace. A clerk greeted him near the entrance and inquired after his visit. Although he looked a bit incredulous at being informed someone wished to see with Prince Regent without an appointment, he would step away to check on it and return flanked by Aværyan guardsmen and, with wide, anxious eyes, would inform Janus:

"You will be escorted to His Serene Starlit Highness at once, sirrah." That the clerk, a handsome Vastian, should use that term to address a pureblooded Re'hyæan of the senatorial class was telling. It might have simply meant that the official was being officious (as officials were wont to be) about Janus' peregrine status whilst he remained between his fealty oaths. It could have meant something more ominous, but it certainly seemed to indicate that news of the Sælyan renouncement of the Umbrian Crown, at least, had reached the Palatium Furiarum.

The tall centurions would stand at Janus' sides and guide him down a path through the palace he'd never taken before. He'd doubtless attended banquets and balls over the years under the reigns of two sovereigns, given his age, but never had he been taken through back hallways where palace staff skittered out of the way of the imposing soldiers escorting him. In fact, it was all staff- not another guest to be seen. By and by, the delicious aromas of comestibles would be wafting through the corridor and the sounds of sizzling pans and boiling pots would be heard as they rounded a corner and stepped into the kitchens. A few cooks and maids scattered about the room looked nervously to the door as Janus entered, then quickly returned to minding their cookware.

Before him was a broad counter upon which a row of cleavers diced vegetables in an efficient, arcane assembly line. In the centre of this counter lay the skinned carcass of a sizable swine of some kind. From behind it, Arkænyn lifted his head- his face and pale hair spattered liberally with blood- and stood upright, holding a knife out to one side and wiping his other blood-soaked hand onto the front of his apron.

The cleavers on either side of him halted in mid-air and clattered onto the counter, inert, as his attention focused fully on his guest.

"I am given to understand you addressed the other senate a little while ago." He conjured a smile and gestured broadly with the blade in his hand, "I am not entirely friendless in the Umbrium, you know. But step closer. I should like to hear..." He pointed the blade of the knife toward Janus' heart, "...your account of how things played out."

Arkænyn didn’t seem blind to the surprised expression Janus wore. He rolled his eyes,

“One must have diversions to clear the anxious mind, Janus, and your blundering has bequeathed unto me a great deal of anxiety.” He took a deep breath and the cleavers, three on either side of him, rose slowly, perhaps menacingly into the air as the ex-senator began to speak.

Arkænyn snarled in answer to the apology, as he leaned forward, lowering the knife in his hand to start slicing a loin. The cleavers began to fall percussively, returning to the world of dicing vegetables. They grew louder as Janua spoke. So much so that he would need to shout by the end to be heard over the din of dinner prep. When he finished, Arkænyn pulled the loin free of the carcass— a thin strip of fat still hung on, until two of the cleavers danced by to sever it, then occupy the place of its counterpart on the chopping line.

“Mm.” Arkænyn lifted the knife and ran his tongue along its bloody edge, as he pondered what had been related to him. He rolled the blood around in his mouth, the drumbeat of cleavers lightening to background noise as he began to speak in a menacingly calm baritone.

“So the wise, elder statesman has come to stand before the foreign-raised naïf to speak of a folly that is certainly very, very rare and out-of-character for one of his experience and renown, yes? Of course it is. Because he came into my palace two days ago to talk to me about his family’s potential. I was so excited to see that potential realised, but instead?” He lifted both hands and slowly spun round, “I am HUMILIATED!” The two of the cleavers quit their work at the vegetables, in favourite of meat. Namely the meat at Janus’ shoulders. He would hear the cleavers slamming into the wall behind him before he even felt the cool sting of the blades. After a moment he would realise they only grazed him, and only thin trickles of blood would appear beneath the slashes in his sleeves.

Red-faced, with veins protruding from his flushed neck, Arkænyn stared at length, before letting out a sigh that seemed to relax the tension that wracked his willowy form.

“Tell me, Peregrinus.” His voice was calm once more, “For you are tenfold and more my senior, having spent centuries in this realm I am only now come from afar to lead bereft of any motherly advice… So tell me, elder statesman, how would you answer the wrong you’ve dealt me if you were in my position and I in yours. Here. I’ll help.” He jabbed the knife into the hog, dropped his kinetically-controlled cleavers and rounded the counter to drop to his knees in front of Janus on the ground, spreading his bloody apron before him like a skirt.

“Go ahead you be me. I’m you.” He knitted his brow in fear and made puppy dog pitiful eyes at the Moonborn looming over his kneeling form.

"S-S-S-Starlit Highness?" Arkænyn repeated in Janus' own voice, as he engaged his Rune of Masquerade to sweep over his fair features- darkening and lengthening his hair, filling out his lips and drawing his nose a bit further out until he was a mirror image of the man standing over him.

"I am no such lofty creature, sire... I am but a carrion-crawling worm writhing in the dung before the feet of so great a one as Your Serene Starlit Highness and hoping against hope that he does not crush me beneath his bootheel..." The mock-Janus lowered his aquiline nose to the kitchen floor in as obsequious a bow as he could muster. As Janus proceeded, apparently disinclined to engage in the bit of roleplay Arkænyn had set up, the Prince Regent grumbled as he got to his feet and reassumed his natural platinum appearance, blood-spattered though it was.

"You're no fucking fun and I'll bet I'm not the first to tell you that." He muttered, as he stalked back over to the counter, holding both hands over his shoulders. The cleavers behind Janus worked themselves free of the wall and darted into the prince's grasp, their blades evading the flesh of the former senator for the return trip.

He turned away from the senator, revealing his bare back unconcealed by the apron covering his front. The engaged witchmarks glowed as he continued to, seemingly subconsciously, chop vegetables even as his hands got to work with the cleavers working at slicing the sirloin above the hog's curly tail. He calmly, meticulously went about his butchery as Janus posed his answer.

"Fish." He said as he tugged the sirloin meat free, and placed it down on the cutting board. When no one responded, he looked to the nearest cook. "Get me fish. I have no more vegetables to cut, and I'm more of a mind for gutting things." The cooks and their staff were visibly nervous to step near the cleavers floating in the air above the counter to collect the diced vegetables and replace them with fish, but they were more frightened of what might befall them if they hesitated. "Take these. I don't need them." He said, as the cleavers were released from his ætheric grasp, and his æther sense found filet knives and summoned them to work at his side.

"We've both made mistakes in this, Janus. I thought your family would be fit to counsel me..." He said, glancing over his bare shoulder to Janus. "But rather than telling me what I ought to do, you counsel me on what you'd want to do, giving no thought to further consequences to my repute.

"Yes. Of course I would prefer to slaughter the source of my rage rather than some innocent pig who never wronged a soul, but civilisation demands that some meat go unbutchered. Nature tells us that your life is worth more than this swine, whatever my base impulses may tell me to the contrary. I cannot feed my whims as blithely as I might like, because there are consequences in this realm now... Even for peerless Deori progenitors, like me." He turned his focus from the meat to the man, pivoting on his heel.

"Weak though you are, I cannot slay you without weakening myself in the esteem of my already doubtful and dwindling subjects. In point of fact, I cannot immediately retaliate openly against you without seeming to confess that your presumptuous implications were true.

"A statement is being released denying and condemning your bold claims of my personal promises. 'We don't know whether he misunderstood or whether he was trying to use a public platform to force our hand toward his own advancement, but whatever the case we categorically deny...' Blah, blah and so on and so forth." He sighed, and placed the knives down, summoning a rag into his grasp to wipe at the blood on his hands.

"Whatever the case, you must clearly see that your nephew cannot sit on my Regium Consilium now, appearances being what they are. When you inform him of this, be sure to take full responsibility this time, hm? You've tied my hands." He held his wrists together for a visual aid.

"And you'll not be on our senate. You will apologise in profusion, resign in disgrace and I'll pick a puppet from amongst your kin to advance my aims. Cicæro has pretty lips with which to voice my whims. I choose him. More fish." The two he'd neatly fileted on either side of the counter flopped onto trays, which slid over to the cooks.

"And now, for our final order of business today, remove your wards... All of them. I want your ætheric defences laid bare as a whore on holiday."