POV -> Caleb

Caleb had been led to the guest wings of the castle by Rayao. Without his trusty advisor, Tiram distracted himself with checking in on how the party setup was coming along. Caleb was certain that whatever Rayao wished to show him was by the advisor's suggestion to the king. Which meant it might actually be important.

The advisor kept a proper pace, chin high and glowing blue eyes fixed ahead. His movements were so controlled that each step barely disturbed the clean white robes he wore.

Rayao was an invention left by Ka'zaz. He administratively served the crown that had once sat on Ka'zaz's head, and had turned to Tiram once the new king was hailed. They were humanoid in shape, but their body was filled with rustic gold spinning gears and smaller gadgets that were always on the move to keep them lively. He spoke like a person with a number of books under their nose, but despite indications that he was nearing a discernible personality, it was difficult to convince him to do tasks he did not already know.

Walking faster was one of these frustrating things.

Caleb took a few normal steps, easily overtaking Rayao. He then stopped and turned to the advisor, patiently waiting for them to catch up. "Why is Jollie here?"

Rayao gave Caleb a pleasant smile. "All of the Archons have been called. She came before we sent an invite for tomorrow's celebration. Apparently the Vanguard has managed to push through the front gates of Westlock and set a perimeter."

Caleb paused, the words playing a tune of excitement in his head. "That's great news! The Witch is weakening?"

Rayao shrugged. "Tiram wanted to celebrate, she did not like that reaction. So she came in person to tell him she is not convinced it is a good sign. You came in the middle of a detailed rendition of how the Witch could take Toroy Garotzch if that creature was even half the strategist Jollie is."

Caleb laughed, taking another handful of steps as Rayao passed him. "We do not know the types of minds the Witch has employed. Jollie is a brilliant strategist. You should consider her warnings."

"I have notes, and will ask her for a detailed risk assessment." Rayao replied. He pondered for a moment, "Did you have a chance to speak with the cursed townsfolk before you severed Katryna's connection?"

Caleb shook his head. "The ones who were cursed for too long ceased to be, The Spinner's children ate their full."

Rayao nodded. "She is a problem."

Caleb did not answer, hanging on the heavy weight of Rayao's tone instead.

The advisor stopped, turning to one of the guest rooms where two guards stood watch. He fiddled with a spell on the doorknob, unlocking the enchantment with ease. "I ask, because what his majesty wishes to show you appears to be an affliction of the mind. It may point you in her direction if it was also her doing. We need your gift in reading magic."

Caleb followed the advisor into the room, the air stuffy with the smell of herbs and healing spreads. The curtains of the guestroom's plushy bed had been pulled for privacy, with their attendant prepping some medicine at a small corner table. The nurse bowed their head at Caleb's presence, quickly going back to their task to leave the Archon and king's advisor to their business.

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Caleb rounded the bed, pulling the curtain and drawing back as he saw the man that sat atop the covers. His skin was pale and soaked in sweat that dripped from his nose and chin. Despite his flashy court attire, he hadn't acknowledged Caleb in the room, one of his eyes a glassy fake ball and the other darting around wildly. From the way the prosthetic seemed to irritate the skin around his eye, Caleb guessed it was a recent addition, and the silvery scars running over his brow and across the bridge of his nose the culprit.

He paid Rayao a cautious glance, noticing similar rends around the man's ears that had been chipped and deformed by the same hands. "What happened?"

"He did that." Rayao calmly replied, motioning to the thick cloth that had bound the man's hands in his lap. "A squadron answered his distress call, but upon their arrival, he did not wish for his eyes to see, nor his ears to hear. Of the twelve border patrollers that he was travelling with, he was the only survivor." Rayao went to the man's side, resting on the corner of the bed so that he could flatten a sheet of parchment on his knee. The advisor snapped his fingers, catching the man's attention with a pure white flame that danced at the tip of his thumb. Caleb eyed the flame, feeling Rayao's spell creep into his mind and connect with the man's.

The advisor's voice echoed in both their heads. Tell me what you saw.

The images moved quickly, the blur of nightfall mixed with a shaking terror as the man fled from something. Blood as he tripped over another patroller who looked to have had his neck twisted like a cap. And then the shadows around him seemed to move and swim, mixing with the tears in his eyes. Caleb pulled out of the spell as a scream rattled his mind, the sound so desperate and terrified he nearly thought it was a strange animal. Rayao held the spell for a few more seconds, busily rubbing an image into the parchment with a stick of charcoal as the man fidgeted and whimpered.

Caleb waited for Rayao to finish his sketch before he touched the man's neck, carefully channeling his magic to probe around for whatever curse had been placed upon him.

He felt magic, and yet… he could not place the feel of it. It was almost as if nothing occupied the space he had found. No sounds or sensations spoke through the connection, the image in his mind a vast expanse of… something. It was not a death curse born of fairies, nor an abyss conjured by demons. Not even Noctra's boons and curses of the night could mock the sensation that had settled into the man's mind and consumed it. It was simply a vast and suffocating silence that reached back at his connection and pitted his stomach.

Rayao eyed him curiously as he pulled away, the advisor's words still reaching into his mind.

You felt nothing?

Caleb wordlessly nodded.

And yet, something?

He nodded again

Rayao sighed, killing the flame in his hand. Tiram did not like the inexplicable, and they both knew that. He held out the page to Caleb, a black and jagged mass, barely wrapping what could maybe be a humanoid form. "Fairies or demons?"

"Please inform his Majesty that I believe it is demons."

"I will appreciate any updates, if you happen across this demon. A bounty will be posted to the likeness of this drawing until we may gather more information."

Caleb stared at the drawing. Lost. He was hoping the new calamity would be something they at least understood. "I will send all I know with haste."

Rayao bowed his head in understanding. "Ra'zerun's blessings be upon you."

The two turned their attention as the door cracked open, a palace servant bowing low as they pulled it wide to reveal the new guest. The shorter man stood at the threshold, his golden hair swept back, and his tired eyes betraying the crisp white formal wear hugging his body.

Caleb eyed Inprobus with concern when the Archon did not return his smile, and instead kept his gaze to the floorboards as he held the torn remains of a commander's insignia and a letter bound with a black ribbon.

"Forgive the intrusion Rayao. I have a message for the White Knight."

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