Bag Testing

The next morning dawned with a shroud of mist that clung to the rooftops of Vellaris like a ghostly embrace. Aldwyn woke early, the weight of his new mission pressing down on him like an iron maiden's embrace. He dressed in silence, the fabric of his shirt whispering against his freshly healed skin.

At his table, the box with the Nightmare Blade sat like a silent sentinel. His bag, a reliable companion through countless battles, was slumped next to it, its leather creaking softly as if eager to be filled with the tools of his trade once more. He reached for the box.

The latch clicked open, the sound echoing in the stillness of the room. Inside lay the blackened blade, a silent beacon of fear and power.

Aldwyn took the Nightmare Blade in his hand, feeling its cold embrace. The metal was a stark contrast to the warmth of his palm, a chilling reminder of the darkness that lurked within. The blade seemed to vibrate with anticipation, as if it could sense the coming storm of battle.

Aldwyn's gaze moved away from the Blade and towards his bag. "I was planning to find out the limits of the bag anyway..." He said to himself.

With the blade in his left hand, he turned towards the bag. With his right hand, he took it in his palm and looked at it for a few seconds.

He attached the bag to his belt on his right side. With his left hand, he guided the blade towards the bag and imagined the blade being absorbed by it.

After a few seconds of full concentration, the bag 'moved' as if it were alive. With an opening that looked like a hungry toothless mouth, it absorbed the balde. An instant later, the sword was gone and Aldwyn was left with just his bag.

Aldwyn's eyes widened slightly. "It actually worked! Now I wonder even more what his limit is..."

He performed the summoning again, the bag's mouth opening and the blade sliding out with the smoothness of a serpent's tongue. The sight was mesmerizing, a dance of steel and shadow. He swung the blade through the air, the sound of it cutting the stillness echoing in the room.

After several successful attempts, Aldwyn felt confident in the bag's capabilities. He let his blade absorb again and kept it that way. He also decided to keep his revolver in his holster. So that he would have a weapon immediately to hand if necessary.

He looked at himself in the mirror, his reflection showing a man dressed for war. His charcoal-gray hooded coat was fastened tightly around his neck, the collar raised slightly to obscure his face. The silver lining glinted in the candlelight, hinting at its protective properties. His shirt was a simple white, the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, revealing the muscular forearms that had seen countless battles. His leather trousers were tailored to perfection, not a single thread out of place, and his boots were polished to a shine that could blind.

Aldwyn descended the stairs, the soft thud of his booted footsteps the only sound in the grand, empty hallway. The chandeliers cast flickering shadows on the floor, the flaming candles throwing eerie, dancing patterns on the walls. As he approached the dining room, the aroma of breakfast wafted towards him, a stark contrast to the dark thoughts that swirled in his mind.

When he arrived, Lady Roxanne and Lord Adrian were already seated at the long, polished table, their heads bowed over steaming plates of food. The room was a picture of opulence, with velvet drapes pulled back to reveal the early morning light filtering through the stained-glass windows. The air was heavy with the scent of roasting meats and the faint, bitter tang of black coffee.

Lord Adrian looked up. "Aldwyn, you're up early," he said, his voice a low rumble.

Aldwyn took a seat opposite him, his gaze flicking to Lady Roxanne. "Where's Lila?" he asked, his voice devoid of its usual edge.

Her eyes met his, a hint of concern in their depths. "Resting," she replied. "The wine took quite a toll on her last night."

„She has a hangover? She really can't handle anything..." He joked mentally.

Aldwyn nodded curtly in acknowledgment and took a plate from the sideboard. The spread before him was a smorgasbord of Victorian delights: crispy bacon, eggs cooked to perfection, golden toast, and a steaming pot of porridge with a side of honey. His stomach growled at the sight, reminding him that he had not eaten since the previous evening's sparse meal.

As he tucked into his breakfast, Lord Adrian's question hung in the air. "When will you be fit for action again, Aldwyn?" he asked, his tone measured and serious.

Aldwyn paused, his gaze momentarily distant. "Two weeks," he said, with the confidence of a man who had faced down the jaws of hell. "I'll work rigorously, push my limits. After that, I'll be ready to leave for Garanom."

Lord Adrian raised an eyebrow, his expression a blend of skepticism and admiration. "Two weeks? That's rather... ambitious."

"I have no choice but to be," Aldwyn replied, his tone flat.

The room fell into silence as he cut into his eggs, the yolk running like molten gold onto the plate. Lord Adrian studied him for a moment, his eyes sharp and assessing.

"Why Garanom?" he finally asked, his voice a rumble that seemed to shake the very walls of the dining room. "What business could possibly require you to go to the heart of the political storm?"

Aldwyn took a sip of his coffee, the dark liquid tasting bitter on his tongue. "I'm looking for information on various matters, I suspect that's where I have the best chance to find the answers," he replied, his eyes never leaving the plate in front of him. "And the contracts... They're more reliable, more lucrative..."

Lady Roxanne placed her fork down, her eyes studying Aldwyn with a shrewdness that belied her youthful appearance. "Information and contracts can be found anywhere," she said, her voice carrying the weight of experience. "What's in Garanom that you can't find here?"

Aldwyn took a moment to chew his toast, buying time to formulate his response. "Garanom is a city of secrets," he said in a low, even voice. "And the answers I seek are not the ones found on the streets of Vellaris.

"And Vellaris doesn't really suit me. It's too extravagant and snobbish for me... No offense to you two, but it's not my way of life." He added.

Lady Roxanne's gaze grew thoughtful. "Very well," she said slowly, her eyes never leaving his. "But remember, Aldwyn. The political waters of Garanom are treacherous, and I won't have you drowning in them without proper preparation."

The room remained silent as Aldwyn continued to eat, the clink of his cutlery against the porcelain plate the only sound. His mind was racing, already planning his moves, his eyes cold and calculating.

....