Chapter 65 & 66

"It's free," the paper read. The vendor wore the fakest of smiles, holding his hands meekly and eyes on his shoes. He didn't dare look Dane in the eye. Hah. Dane scratched his chin, bemused. He set a soul shard on the table, earning a shaky laugh from the man, and pocketed the perfume oil. 

"I'm not a thief," he said, resting his elbow on the table. "The guards rob you of your wares often?"

The man was quick to jot his thoughts down. "It's not theft, sir. It's payment for protecting us…" his hand paused momentarily, "from the creatures outside the castle. It's the least I can do."

Dane snorted. "Nonsense. Your protection is paid for in soul shards."

The man shrugged. Dane shrugged back and moved on. There was no profit in fighting a hopeless battle.

Rust-red sunlight set the castle in a somber, foreboding silence as the handmaids flitted around, drawing close the curtains. Dane had never liked sunsets. After a month inside the desert, it had become a thing of instinct, tying his stomach in knots and drumming his heart as the sun dipped lower and lower, signifying the advent of night.

It left him red-faced and ashamed to be face to face with his inadequacies and lesser attributes. Afraid of the dark, what was he, a child? Yet he had seen in the dark what most children would never see.

His face skewed into a frown for a moment. He wiped it off and chased away the tension with a deep breath. It's alright. It'll take time, but you'll heal, he told himself, believing it.

***

He obsessed over himself in the mirror, combing his hair, running his hand over his jaw, shaving any hairs he missed, and applying the oil on his neck, armpits, and wrists. It wasn't like the perfumes in the Waking World. It wasn't as good or refined, but it was more natural. Dane liked it. How could he not? Mint was mint.

The Castle Guard saw fit to provide every guard with a scabbard. Dane now had two, so he made use of them. His falchion lay in the new sheath, and his dagger sat tight inside the first.

Eventually, someone rapped at his door. Dane sighed and left the room. He followed a handmaid down the stairs and into the castle's inner sanctum. He had told Lara she could have the night off, so he walked alone.

She led him into a private dining hall, bowed, and left him there. The chamber was empty save for an exquisite, pale marble table of modest length and two cushioned chairs at its ends. He sat at the one with his back to the door. Ten minutes passed, but Song Seishan had not deigned to arrive yet.

So she was playing that game.

Legacies were, in a nutshell, a pain in the ass. Like the nobles of the medieval age, they played all sorts of games to win the slightest edge over their foes and allies, and keeping one's contemporary waiting was nothing but a slight done to anger another. Some poor souls would even call being late a 'power play.' How pathetic…but what else to expect from one who bears the name of Song?

Nonetheless, he would wait.

Bored, Dane rapped at the table, fidgeting to keep his mind occupied.

Thirty minutes later, the door opened, and in came a swarm of handmaids carrying plates and trays of meat, vegetables, and was that wine? The aroma of pepper, salt, garlic, and other herbs and spices inundated the room, forcing Dane to swallow.

The maids laid out empty plates whose rims were gilded, napkins, two pairs of forks and knives, carving knives, ridiculously ostentatious goblets encrusted with emeralds and rubies, and sauce boats filled with creamy goodness.

They left as quickly as they came, and another walked in, heels clacking on the stone floor. Dane stood and turned to lay his eyes on Song Seishan. She looked…incredibly different.

Her dress was green velvet, wrapping around her neck but leaving her shoulders bare, fitting her form elegantly. Her form was alien. Her skin was gray as storm clouds, smooth as silk, and was disturbing to witness, and even more disturbing was that her…mutations had a strange allure to it. Just like his eyes, this must have surfaced upon her Aspect's awakening.

She smiled and offered him her hand. Dane eyed it with distaste, not bothering to hide it, gesturing for her to take her seat after a curt peck.

Amusement flickering in her eyes, she moved, hips swaying, to her seat. Two of her servants trailed in behind her. One poured wine into the gaudy goblets while the other stood away from the table, a stack of paper in one hand and a pen in the other.

Sitting down, he examined Song Seishan, who silently returned the favor as the handmaid served them each a bowl of soup. The legacy opened her mouth, revealing pearly white teeth, and spoke softly. The other maid set to write, but Dane stopped her with a raised hand.

"No need," he said and linked his mind to Seishan's.

"A pleasure to meet you," he greeted.

She smiled at the maid and politely gestured for her to leave. Then her voice resounded in his head, "Likewise."

Lifting her spoon, she sipped the soup.

Dane mirrored her.

The soup was thick, rich, and tangy. Was it—

"It's tomato soup," Seishan informed him.

"It's good," he swallowed a spoonful, "but how are vegetables grown here? I don't imagine a Saint or a Master was nice enough to provide you with seeds and leave you here."

She picked up her goblet, the wine glistening against the light streaming from the candles set on the walls in bundles. "An ability," she took a swallow, "one that makes life in this castle much more bearable."

When they were done with the soup, Seishan nodded at the handmaiden who then carved out healthy portions of meat into two plates before leaving. Dane couldn't help but notice that Seishan's was not far off from being raw.

"So then, how did we meet before?" Seishan asked, convinced that he knew. 

Dane reached for his fork and knife. "I was only a child, and you were not yet a Sleeper. Song had hosted a ball to celebrate Beastmaster's, your sister's, success in the Third Nightmare."

Seishan considered his words for a moment, somehow chewing her uncooked food. "You are a Legacy. One of ours, at that."

"Heart's Bane of the Gray Gust," Dane said.

"Heart's Bane…of the Gray Gust. You must be Ellie's brother," she said, her eyes sparkling with nostalgia.

Ellie. His sister's nickname. By what rights did the kin of Eliana's murderer speak of her so affectionately? "Ellie…you were close to my sister?" he questioned, keeping the venom from seeping into his words. Song Seishan had been in the Dream Realm for a long time, and she had no hand to play in his sister's death.

"Yes. I desire to induct her into my cohort. When I was still in the waking world, she was one of my closest friends," Seishan recounted, and Dane nearly winced, "and I know her to be among the sharpest of my generation. It is a pleasant surprise that her brother joins me in the Forgotten Shore with a True Name to boast of."

He corrected, "...knew," he took another swallow, "and, it is no pleasant surprise. We are, after all, trapped here." With his ability, he would find an escape from the Forgotten Shore eventually, but he did not think it wise to tell her.

Seishan froze. After a moment, she said sincerely, "My condolences."

Dane nodded.

Song cleared her throat. "Of course, you are right. It is a curse to know that escape is so close yet so far."

"What do you mean?"

"Ah, you do not know yet. Your Flaw is a cruel and dangerous thing," she said.

"Indeed, it is," Dane replied curtly. "What is it that I don't know?"

"Have you noticed the shadow that covers the Dark City every evening?" she asked.

He nodded.

"It belongs to the Crimson Spire."

She needn't say anymore. The Crimson Spire seemed to be the landmark of this region, and it would host the Gateway to the Waking World.

"And it is not assailable with what forces you have here?" he asked.

"Even with double our numbers, it would be impossible. It is guarded by a host of Awakened creatures and a Fallen Terror. As if that wasn't bad enough, it is said that the creature is capable of targeting souls. There is no getting out of here."

Whatever thoughts Dane had of trying his luck vanished with that.

"So you plan to live out your days here, serving Gunlaug? From what I've seen, he is not well-liked. It shouldn't be too hard to be rid of the tyrant in his sleep," he challenged.

Seishan smiled and said, "Would that I could."

"You cannot?"

"No Sleeper can," she replied.

Dane grimaced. He did not like the sound of that.

"He has an echo. A Transcendent echo, one that he wears like armor. No weapon will touch him."

No wonder.

"Is he a legacy also?"

Even among Legacies, it was rare to be granted a Transcendent Echo as a Sleeper.

Seishan shook her head. "He got lucky. Hunting out in the Dark Sea, he stumbled upon the creature an inch away from death, and thinking it was dead, he began to cut at its meat. The Spell attributed its death to his blade."

In silence, they resumed their meal. The handmaid returned after a clap from Seishan, continuing to serve them the rest of the courses. With a full stomach, Dane stood.

"It was a pleasure dining with you, Lord Heart's Bane," Seishan said, standing.

"Likewise, Lady Song."

"I will have my women bring a fair sum of soul shards to your room. Enough to fill your core and more to spare," she generously offered. 

Dane smiled. "It is kind of you, my lady. It seems I will have a great sum to spare, as I have already saturated my core."

He held a grudge against Clan Song, but only to those involved in her death. If Song Seishan was truly as close to Ellie as she said she said, he need not hold one against her. He needed to make allies, and in the Bright Castle, Song Seishan, a lieutenant, was second to none but Gunlaug himself.

"You needn't stay in the Castle Guard, my lord. It is beneath you," Seishan expressed. "With a saturated core and the skill of a legacy, it is not impossible to gain great influence here. And with my support…"

"I do not intend on joining the handmaidens," Dane quipped.

She giggled. "Truly Eliana's sister. Your humor is as ghastly as hers."

Dane suppressed a smile.

Song Seishan picked her goblet up. "No, however well you would be in the Handmaidens, it is a waste of your potential," she swallowed all the wine, "It is time for the Bright Castle to witness the rise of its sixth Lieutenant."