Chapter 1- The Escape

Clinks of glass and rowdy laughter filled a grand ballroom inside a lush palace. The home of Hana Mortiana was chosen to host this year's annual event. Human nobles, with their snugly hidden faces behind masks of many shapes and colors, calculated their next moves against each other. Each one had a different plan to raise ranks and backstab fellow compatriots. Political prowess at its finest when they were all on an even battlefield.

The diverse kingdoms of Tailush deal with their political games in their own fashion, but The Ivory Vail sees it as the only choice. Free from rules, one can do as one wishes and establish one's social status. Anything is fair game, from exploitation to assassination. Magnus Ludus, the Vailians called it, built upon a single rule: don't be caught. It's a complicated game of espionage that The Ivory Vale lusts for.

Items were lined up from wall to wall by nobles who brought them to show off. Bronze machinery that used water as fuel played a melody in the corner. Illustrations with text dashed across a screen as a noble cranked a shaft. Many more strange contractions amused the party guests as backseat deals were made in hushed whispers.

Change of Season despised these political games since she had learned of them. She once compared the game to jaded men swinging their dicks around. 

Her race, the Kabit, was alluring to the Valiens. The Kabit are humanoid cat-like creatures native to the Isle of Niverwood. Her black fur with white patches stood out against the other servant races, the Orcs. Her muzzle and rhinarium-like nose were often compared to an Orc's snout and pudgy face. Orcs hailed from the Dividing Plains in the Ivory Vale and had olive or tan hides. 

Her cat ears twitched as a pair of cups struck. Her master brought her along to show her off to all who attended. She assumed it would better reinforce her social position among the Ivory Court by spilling as little bloodshed as possible.

Change sighed as another group passed her.

"It's so hideous."

"Look how it squirms in proper Valein clothing."

Change loathed the idea of admitting a noble right. 

She shuffled her posture while rolling her shoulders back, seeking a suitable position. The tight cloth of nobility did not amuse her, nor did she like its fashion. An unwanted itch developed under her skin as her black fur brushed against the silken garbs.

Her master had decorated her in the typical male fit of the Vale. A lengthy blue silk coat with gold and brown edges lay over a lavishly embroidered fabric waistcoat. Her trousers were knotted below the knee with brown buckles accenting the white stockings that covered her lower legs. Her boots had tan leather of exquisite make and a square toe dressed in steel, engraved with her master's house crest.

"Velsha, dear?" Her master waved her hand, motioning for her to heel. "Come meet my new friends. They are dying to see you."

Hana, the host of the games and her master, was politically untouchable and, therefore, didn't wear a mask. She could have but chose not to, to show off her pet.

Cautiously, Change of Season adhered to her master's call, letting go of a lengthy, exaggerated sigh. 

Hana's layered pink and white ruffled gown stood out like a sore thumb among the other colorful guests. She adjusted her bow tie knot, which held her long-sleeved ruffled jacket together. 

"Yes, Mother." obeyed Change.

Gasps spread among the observing nobles. Other Vailens wandered closer to see what the commotion was about. 

A man with a sparkling purple peacock mask spoke. "The savage talks? This is quite intriguing." 

His counterpart, wearing a feathered black pig mask, added, "Did you teach it to talk?"

"I did, but," Hana turned to Change with a heavy brow. "He still needs to learn manners."

A knot developed in the pit of Change's belly as her muscles retracted into a ball. Blood dripped from her grip before she swiftly retracted her claws and relaxed. A trick she learned by observing other servants suppressing their rage to not lash out at their masters. 

She glared daggers back at her ‘mothers’, seldom reacting. Hana knew what set her off, and she stumbled into her trap. 

"Undoubtedly. At least it is dressed accordingly. How did you instruct such an unnatural creature to dress themselves, or perhaps you had a servant dress it?" Asked one noble.

"Rather simple, really. I raised him since he was a young thing. The language was the exceptionally challenging part. Their natural dialect is a series of growls and grunts. I could not break him rolling his r's for the longest time." chuckled Hana.

A towering, fully outfitted guard strolled up to her and murmured into her ear. Her nose scrunched up, her cheek twitched, and her eyes darted across the room.

Change grew suspicious as guards who formerly stood at doors were now missing from their posts and walked through the crowds of nobles. Through the shadows, she watched as nobles snatched into the darkness one by one.

"If you would pardon me and my servant. I had some unpleasant news that I must attend to." Hana respectfully bowed. 

Hana guided Change of Season out of the packed ballroom. She paused and muttered some comments to some nobles before withdrawing from the area. 

By the exit stood a suit of armor that moved closer to them. Where standard human armor had dull edges that were commonly one piece of steel, this had an organic style. Pictures of rocks and dunes covered the breastplate in thin gold filigree. There was a blend of design and function when the armor flowed into points. There was no doubt this was Elven armor, but Change had never seen that crest.

Soot rose from the armor's kinks, leaving black smudges on the edges of the breastplate and helmet. The figure shifted unnaturally as Hana stepped closer.

"Leave no one alive. Burn the evidence," 

A harsh whisper responded under the obscured visor. "Ondosnaad."

The knight retreated from Hana's side and marched into the ballroom. Some nobles took notice, comparing it to automated armor and thinking of it as part of an exhibit before striking its claymore into the marbled tile. 

A tone reverberated throughout the room, subduing even the loquacious nobles. They paused in horror at this distinguished being and watched to learn what would develop next.

"What is the purpose of this?" A noble sought.

The crowd waited for an explanation. Murmurs echoed across the ballroom as the doors slammed shut. Lock bolts rung in the silence. The knight raised one gauntlet and spoke in a dialect that was long forgotten. Sparks of arcane energy shot from this alien being's fingertips and conjured a vortex of crimson and violet hues that twisted counterclockwise. 

Six droplets of sludge fell from the spiral, one by one. They slowly formed an ambiguous vapor that paralleled tall humans with lengthy, pointy ears. Some had ripped dark tan leather breast pieces, while others had rotted filthy navy cotton garments. They searched around the area, chatting in the same odd language. The caster issued orders, pointing at the crowd.

Change of Season looked at her mother in horror. "What have you done?"

The navy ones chanted, casting magic on the armored individuals. A golden sheen of light enveloped one of the armored creatures as a noble attacked back with a wooden table leg. With a backhand swipe from the creature, the noble flew backward through the stained glass window. The nobles had nowhere to run, and they knew it. One by one, they fell from either a rusted blade or magic. Crimson blood filled the chamber faster than the screams could fill the silence. 

"For The Ivory Vale to survive, someone with an iron will must step up. The nobles are inadequate, stilted. The rot must be dug out. In time, you will understand, Velsha." Hana replied.

"Why do you keep calling me that name?"

Hana grinned, ignoring the question.

"We have much work to do."

Change bowed in submission and followed her master out of the palace. A wide gravel road flowed down a hillside, and at the end was a gated entrance with deceased guards embedded with small knives in their backs. 

"Rachel is efficient as always, it seems," Hana stated.

A six-door metal wagon was parked, waiting for their arrival with doors open. It was a present from a business associate of Hana’s from Athewen after the two kingdoms achieved peace. An ARC (arcane road carriage) turned heads in noble circles. The Ivory Vale still used horses and carriages to transport people and goods.

A girl dressed in a tight black fitted dress sat patiently in the vehicle's cab. Two thigh slits allowed her to sit cross-legged on the tan leather bench seat in her knee-length gown. She fiddled with metal sticks that held her lengthy brown hair into a bun. 

Rachel tenderly patted the seat next to her. "It's always a pleasure to sit next to my brother. I don't always have time for quality bonding when you’re all chained up."

The woman put her arms around Change when she took her seat and tugged her closer. Change groaned in the sudden embrace. Not that she minded. It was sudden, and she had not prepared for it. Her space had been invaded.

"Rachel, dear, it's best we keep your brother caged. What if he were to hurt the vessel?" Hana responded while sitting on the bench opposite her children.

Change wrestled out of her ‘sister's’ grip and sat patiently, facing Hana's direction.

"Why a Kabit, mother?" Rachel inquired.

"It is not our place to question his wishes," said Hana.

"Are you sure you interpreted the signs correctly?" 

Change tried to follow the conversation that she thought was about her. "Who are we talking about?"

Hana snapped to Change, and a shiver ran down her spine. She instinctively lowered her head and shrunk into a ball. A side glance from Rachel confirmed that she had said something she should not have. 

Hana closed her eyes, shook her head, and turned back to Rachel. "When we return to the house, we must discuss your taste in color."

Rachel rolled her eyes and quietly sat watching the trees pass by as the ARC picked up speed and drove down the driveway. In the distance, smoke arose from the burning hillside. The Ivory Council and several other high-ranked nobles were assassinated.

***

Change studied her sister intently, waiting for cracks in her facade to appear. The calm, level-headed exterior she carried faded away as her grin waned. Something weighed heavily on her sister's mind. Once home and given the chance, she might ask her.

She shifted her focus over to Hana. Her mother held a novel in her grip and looked to be enjoying herself. Absorbed in her reading, Change could not obtain a reliable sense of what was ailing her. 

Change rested her head on the soft leather headrest and closed her eyes, taking in the silence and savoring her last hours of freedom. Soon, she would be back in the basement, wrapped in chains. If she could muster some luck, she might walk freely among the rest of the household. 

To reach their destination, they would have to travel through the capital of Poloris. It was no small place, filled with stolen culture across Tailush. The streets bustled with Valiens and their Orc servants taking in the nightlife. News of what had happened had not reached the capital. 

Different hues of oranges and reds colored the sky as the sun set behind tall buildings that littered the cityscape. Street lights lit with a quick spark as the gaseous insides took a flame, lighting the trail for weary travelers.

Outside the city, a large iron bar fence barred their path forward. An H, attached to the iron rod fence and encompassing a circle, parted as the gate opened. With the gate opened, the vehicle drove up the driveway paved with asphalt; it curved as its direction approached the building, then circled back on itself. 

The house came alive when the vehicle slowed down, and the exterior lights turned on. Change shoved herself out of the backseat of the car, shortly followed by Hana and Rachel. 

A short human man with slicked-back hair and thin-trimmed sides bowed by the entrance to the mansion. He wore unique attire: a lengthy black coat that rested over a gray vest and a white wing-collar dress shirt. He anxiously tightened his white gloves as Hana greeted him before she opened the front door. A group of four Orcs bowed behind the human dressed in the same style. 

"Damien, please escort Velsha back to its chambers. I'm in a wonderful mood today, so it may read as a treat." Hana stated.

"Yes, Ma'am."

Damien rested his hand on Change's shoulders as Hana turned to Rachel.

"Now, Rachel, my dear. Accompany me to my chamber so I may explain the acceptable colors a lady should wear."

Rachel rolled her eyes and folded her arms. "Yes, Mother."

As the two girls left upstairs, Damien escorted Change through the mansion's halls toward her familiar chained oblivion. 

Hana, a wealthy individual who has inherited her husband's fortune after his untimely and dubious death, ventured out and purchased strange oddities. These could be observed through the halls decorated with deteriorating Elven tapestries and rusted armor from Procaria, a kingdom to the south. Of course, no one knew of her second home as it had the rarest artifacts to herself.

Change had the basement all to herself, and she preferred it that way. Even being detained in chains every night, she didn't object to her accommodations. They allowed her to travel effortlessly in the basement, reaching every corner.

"I know my way, Damien, thank you." Change gently informed him.

"Your Vailen has improved considerably, Change of Season."

She slipped a smile as she wandered down the stairs. She was glad Damien remembered her name; it reassured her he cared about her. 

"Thanks to your teachings, I've gained much from you." 

"As Mistress Mortiana permits. You may choose something to read."

She wished to read several things. Hana and Rachel's conversion on the drive home had Change curious to understand her mother's travels.

"If possible, I have something in mind. In mother's study, her journal of the time she ventured into Honeodell."

"Right away."

Bookshelves lined the far wall facing the stairs leading back to the main floor. Many books, ranging from the History of Tailush to the Last Great Human War, lined the shelves of the free-standing bookcases. They mocked her by locking her away with an arcane lock. She had read many of the texts on those shelves, but she could still read more. 

Chains scraped against an eye bolt embedded in the ground, filling the chamber with rattling noises as she wandered around. Metal creaked from her body's pressure, compressing the mattress at the foot of the bed. 

Her mother acknowledged her as her child but gave out essential means to survive. This room and those books were all Change knew, and she craved something better.

A few minutes passed, and Damien finally arrived with the diary and delivered it to her. She nodded to him to take his leave as she hunkered down to read her mother's journal.

I find myself becoming increasingly obsessed with finding artifacts in Honeodell. The amount of forgotten history found here is outstanding. I met another noble in the ruins. His name is Nizof. Every artifact brings me closer to him, and I want to….

Change closed the journal swiftly, and her cheeks turned a vivid red. Her heart skipped a beat, leading her to pant. Hana did not omit any details. After gathering herself, she opened the journal once again, turning to the later entries.

I received a letter from Father today at camp. They kicked me out of the family and ended my funding. No worries, I have found my true family, The Obsidian Order.

She paused, trying to recall information about The Obsidian Order. Images vaguely flashed in her mind from past history books that she had read, but The Obsidian Order was obscure, and any significant references were nonexistent. She would have to note it for later and do more research. She continued to read from the journal, picking out topics to dig further into later.

As she continued reading she came up on an entry about a failed vessel experiment that escaped years earlier. A half-orc that insisted it was a woman and deserved equal treatment to her 'sister' 

Orc slaves are plentiful to find, and that peasant we encountered on the way to the capital was all too eager to relinquish the half-orc wretch she was saddled with bearing. Yes, a half-orc will do nicely as His Vessel.

“I wasn't the first?”

She continued reading.

The damnable wretch ran away, and stole some of my research notes no less. I knew I should have installed chains in the basement to hold it there, free roaming in the dark is still too freeing for the rebellious savage. No way the sheltered creature will survive without me. I must search for the signs to find a more suitable vessel to bestow the name Velsha.

“I guess I have my predecessor to thank for my predicament.”

She continued reading.

'One of my men keeping watch in our neighbors to the south of the Vale saw a strange sight. A figure dressed in the vestments of the Obsidian Order. Dressed like a vessel of the ancient times. My informant realized it was not one of our agents, nor a fellow member of the order - it was a strange bounty hunter of some kind, collecting the masks of nobles and order members that it killed. Called itself Vrei'dara. The wretch went into hiding in a dilapidated village on the edge of a cursed forest, and so my informant saw fit to burn the whole place down with the order-mocking wretch inside. Hopefully it did not survive the encounter. I have a new vessel to tend to, I do not need needless distractions from failed experiments.

Damien cleared his throat. "The lady of the household has requested lights out. I hope you have found what piqued your interest?"

"Yes, I have." she closed the journal and returned it to Damien. "I'm sure Mother would appreciate this back in her study."

He graciously accepted the journal from Change's hands before bowing and taking his leave. Change sunk into her sheets, and placed her head on the pillow. Her mind raced, struggling to connect dots with little to no information. She cautiously drifted to sleep, dreaming of a better future for herself.

A sharp click of the lock bolt gliding inside the door woke Change. She learned to be a light sleeper after her mom used to wander into her chamber unannounced late at night to mess with her. It had been a while since the last unannounced visit from her. 

"Oh, good. You are up. We can have a nice chat, brother." Rachel spoke nonchalantly. 

Rachel's silhouette blocked the glow of yellow light from the stairwell. A flash of bright light blinded Change as Rachel flipped the basement lights on. She changed out of her earlier apparel and was now dressed in sleepwear with her hair flowing down past her shoulders.

"What do you want, Rachel?" Change asked.

"I wish you out. And by out, I mean gone. But I do not aspire you dead, brother." she opened her palm, revealing a golden key. "Which is why I brought this."

Rachel sauntered towards the bed, kneeled down, and inserted the key into the lock. After a few attempts to fit the key in the hole, she finagled the latch open. She yanked the chains from the eyebolt and moved to the lock on Change's ankles.

"So you freed me from my restraints, but how do you foresee me leaving the mansion undiscovered, dear sister?"

"Do not assume me dumb, brother. Damien is standing by with the ARC. I sedated our mother when I offered a toast to her slaying the council."

Change glanced at the wide-open door and then back at her sister. Despite the situation, she couldn't let the opportunity pass by. She reached out to shake her sister's hand, only to be addressed with a hug instead.

"I don't loathe you. I wanted to learn more about you. Mother has not been the same since father passed. You deserve a better life. If you want to discover who Hana has become, go to Black Hollow. Quickly, there's little time left. Now fly, Kiren." 

A tear rolled down Rachel's cheek. Change could not remember the last time sympathy came from her sister. Her foot rested on the bottom step as she turned back to her sister in a moment of weakness.

"My name is Change of Season, and I'm your sister."

She continued climbing up the stairs, preparing for Hana to stop and laugh at her. As she made her break, she knew her liberation was closer. Damien lingered at the exit, as Rachel had spoken of. 

"I accept you are ready to make haste from the Mortiana household?" Damien suggested.

"Yes."

She glanced one last time at where she had spent her childhood. The previous fifteen years were long and demanding, but she prevailed. Today, her next phase in life begins in Black Hollow.