Reus Voti

     As the Phoenix sang, her tune turned from one of mourning to that of celebration. With each note of her song, Kaiser Archeleus Imler slowly, and though wobbling terribly, got to his bare feet. Once standing, Archel stared up at the brilliant fiery hues trailing after the Phoenix. On an impulse, he held his scrawny arm out, fore- and middle fingers extended. She swooped around his head, gently landing on his outstretched fingers where she promptly ceased singing. Archel turned to the still kneeling Celatrix, “um, could you please get up?”

     “As you command, Praeceptor Archel,” Celatrix Verna replied as she stood. The double line of now silent, previously chanting, ministers followed her cue and also rose.

     “It’s not really a command,” Archel mumbled.

     “What, milord?” she asked.

     “Uh. Nothing,” Archel said, absently stroking the Phoenix’s back. “What happens now?”

Me Piget

     “You are late,” the Inquisitor said without looking up from the solid oak desk in the warehouse manager’s office. He flipped a paper over, before entwining his fingers, and resting his forearms on the edge of the desk. Slowly, he turned his attention to the two men, “explain.”

     The duumviri hazarded a glance at each other, silently deciding on who would respond. Jougs answered, “we met trouble.”

     “Took care of it,” Vorant added.

     The Inquisitor waited, calm brown eyes boring into them.

     “We were followed…” Jougs hesitated, “by a bird and some Mercs.”

     “Got away, though, didn’t we?”

     “How?”

     “Firebombs and a smokescreen,” Jougs said.

Dies Infaustus

     Fulco never had the chance to finish telling the tragedy of Rex Gryphus. Though it was still a bit before moonrise, Avalona and its surroundings were ablaze. Another fiery blast rocked the hillside just below Kent and Cassie, sending flaming tree detritus flying. The bird halted in mid-air and spun rising high above the forest. Kent, lunged for cover, barely avoided losing his good eye as a burning stick flew at him. He saw a huge branch land where the girl had stood. He never saw her move, but found her hunched beside him. She dug meticulously through her satchel, pulling out the ornate athame. She ran her fingers over the sheath, before handing the blade to Wheelock.

     “What do you want me to do with this?” Kent asked.

     “That’s my village,” her hazel eyes pleaded, “we’ve got to go,” her face remained stone.

     “You need a weapon,” Kent said, he was shocked at the sudden explosions, and bewildered that this rag-a-muffin girl would want to run into whatever danger awaited them, “you take the knife.”

     “I have this,” she held up her left arm.

     “Girls,” Kent sighed, “what’s a bracelet going to do?”

     “You’ll see. Let’s go.”

Expertus Metuit

     For two days Chief Justice Fraunx Adonis had spent his afternoons silently watching The Inquisitor’s team at work. Generally speaking, he wouldn’t give a second thought to physical coercion as a method of obtaining information. However, after what he’d seen in the chamber hidden under the Heart of the Seven Faeries, he seriously contemplated ordering the Regular Militia to abstain from enhanced interrogations until a full study could be conducted regarding the efficiency of the method. It was definitely something he’d have to bring up at the next meeting of the Antigone Courts. Fortunately, The Inquisitor was a gift from his brother, Typhon the Supreme Guru of Poterit Dan, and as such was not subject to Donian law. Of course, if they were caught by Mercury’s Elite Guard, none of it would matter for they’d all pay in blood.

Magna Fuga

     Kent Wheelock lay, unconscious, in a congealed pool of his own blood and bile. A poultice made from a falcon-regurgitated poppy covered his missing left eye. Fulco stood on the footboard of the collapsed bed in the corner of the dilapidated shack. The fireplace grating groaned as it was pushed aside by a bald old man who clambered up and out. Fulco cawed. Kent moaned, but did not move. From inside his fur-lined cape, the old man pulled out a long thin cloth. He knelt beside Kent, then lifted the young man’s head to wrap the cloth around the injured eye thus securing the poultice in place.