Ep.4 The Blight Queen

A Tale Of Doon

Julia climbed the spiraling stair that circled the outside of the tower. Far below the labor of a mining crew sounded as pickaxes, shouts, and grunts mixed with the continual updraft that rushed past and into the sky beyond. While the quarry dug deeper into the ravine between its two mountain ridges, the tower felt as though it grew ever taller as the world was cut away beneath it. In the newly carved stone, fresh dwellings, storerooms, and workhouses were forged, creating the feeling of new life in development with each and every day that passed. 

Meanwhile the tower that soured above only seemed to grow more ancient, its origins beginning well beyond living memory, and not that of just humans, but dwarves and elves too. Julia had once wondered at the tower's history, questioning who built it, and wondering why it had come into being. That was years ago now, long enough that she barely even saw the tower, at least not for its true grandeur. That was a new observer's joy, one with a fresh set of eyes, not for someone so accustomed that they’d grown blind with indifference. Instead the only thing she wanted to know regarding it was- which room did she need to find, and who was she looking for when she got there?

 

Julia reached a landing, pushed open a door, then shut out the gale of the open air behind her. She’d occupied this room for the last few days, a large circular room packed with furniture, stacked with books, filled with an array of implements, maps, and other curiosities. Warm firelight from torch sconces mingled with the light of day, filtering down through windows set high within the stone walls. Julia drifted through it all like it was a maze she’d puzzled through a hundred times before.

“Good, you’re here. We can begin.”

The poignant words of a dull toned man filled the space, half interested, half bored, like someone who’d seen and heard everything but had a few minor details they needed to mop up. The intonation caught Julia’s ear like it had many times before and invoked the usual amount of annoyance she felt whenever entertaining his company. Scholl Blackhand, an Administrator for the Coterie of the Black Scale, and a right prick if ever Julia had met one.

“With respect, I do not advise waking her. Only her body knows when is right, this could be a detriment to her health.” Julia’s words came stern, almost scornful. Despite her respects she’d never been one to contain her feelings. Her contempt for Scholl's interference in particular was no mystery.

“Your skill and advice have been duly noted, I assure you, but time is of the essence and I can’t wait any longer. Now, wake her.”

Julia frowned and expelled a huff of exasperated air. Scholl’s manner was particularly grating, sounding one part reasonable mixed with one part self-importance, neither tenant she could rationally fault him for. He held an authority here and moreover, there was more going on in the world than one woman's rest. That was a debate they’d already had.

She moved forward, retrieving a small clear vial and drawing back the screen that shielded Vanweath from view. There was no ceremony to it, no additional thought or question, Julia simply syphoned her concoction with a dropper, peeled back the eyelid covering Vanweath’s sleeping eye, and drowned it in the liquid.

“Forgive me.”

(Continue to Ep.5)

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