Click. Click. Click.

The sound of heels connecting with the marble floor echoed throughout the entire room. A high throne sat prominently on a small square stage at the back of the room. A hand, pale from lack of sunlight, caressed the arm of the throne. Darkness filled the room, the hour late. Torches lit along the hall flickered in an orange glow, illuminating the face of a woman dressed in dark clothing. A dark, blood red, cloak rested over her shoulders, eliminating the chill in the room. She stood tall, her shoulders back and her head up, her blonde hair cascading around her shoulders.

Her slim frame walked around behind the chair and she pushed back her blonde hair away from her face to reveal slightly pointed ears. Half-Elf in nature, she did not acquire all of the Elven traits into her appearance. Olavenya stopped before her throne and looked out on the gothic hall, the high vaulted ceiling above and the large wooden doors directly in front of her. Gold and marble glittered in the firelight, showing the extravagance of the palace in which she lived.

No one bothered her. Guards stood far away, but Olavenya did not need them. Carefully, she sat upon the throne, placing her hands on the armrests, leaning her head back. The throne was hard against her back, but she did not bother to care. She relaxed her mind and closed her eyes, breathing deeply. Her breath caught and she froze, her eyes snapping open and glowing a vibrant crimson. Any onlooker would be frightened by her, but mystified by her beauty.

Olavenya appeared in another place. Her body remained on the throne in her place of residence, but her spirit was in another. She walked, her legs making long strides along a wooden deck. She made no sound and felt nothing of the atmosphere. The sea flicked up on the hideous creatures scattered around the deck, the smell of salt water filling the air. Olavenya passed by a tall troll and goblins gathered in a corner. None looked at her. None even noticed she was there.

Her brown eyes twinkled in the moonlight as she stopped before a door to a cabin. She did not bother to knock and moved her hand in front of the door, letting it fly open and slam shut behind her. Stepping aside, she watched as the patron’s chair banged against the floor and looked around. She remained unseen and the woman sitting in the chair propped her feet back up on the desk just as she had before. A knife twirled in her fingertips, the blade shining in the dimly lit room. Her eyes narrowed and focused on Olavenya, even though she couldn’t see her. Olavenya could tell that she was not going to buy that the door had opened and slammed shut because of the wind.

Olavenya stared at the woman, her dark hair covering very long pointed ears. Her skin was much paler than Olavenya’s; it seemed as if she had not ever stepped out into the sunlight in all of her years. Her dull grey eyes focused on the spot still, the muscles in her arms flexing only slightly as she rested her elbow on the arm of the chair in which she sat. Olavenya focused on the stone hanging on a necklace around the woman’s neck.

When she was satisfied that she had taken in enough of the room and the surroundings, Ola’s form strode forward and lightly sat in the chair on the other side of the desk. The boat rocked, but she paid no heed to it. Ola brought a hand up to her face and opened the fool’s mind to her presence. The woman jumped, her feet slamming to the ground as her grey eyes focused on the figure that materialized in front of her. Quickly, she redeemed herself, slamming her knifepoint into the desk.

“I knew there was someone…” She growled, gazing down at the knifepoint before looking up at Olavenya. She calmed, bowing her head slightly and avoiding the woman’s dark brown eyes. “Sorceress…”

“Brigannica. Nice to see you are being kept on your toes.” Her voice bared no sarcasm toward the woman, but Brigannica’s face turned slightly pink at the comment. Her cheeks paled, the Brinn woman returning to her steely expression rather quickly. “Had I been your mate, maybe you would have been quicker to search me.”

“Sorceress… I am a warrior…”

“A very successful one to become one of my generals.” Olavenya commented. The Brinn made excellent spies. Cursed by daylight, they were but mere shadows beneath the watchful eye of Simia. At night, these former elves resumed their natural state. But, by day, they were whispers on the wind.

“I remain grateful of the honor.” Brigannica replied, the words seeming forced from her mouth. “I expect you would like a report.”

“I would. Tell me, what of the Trolls and Goblins? Are they…behaving themselves?”

Brigannica nodded and leaned forward on her desk, her dark hair in a ponytail at the back of her head. It lay across her shoulder as she spoke, “They are quite stupid, but they do fine work. Fine enough, for me.”

“You do not require excellence, Brigannica? Maybe, I should have given your position to another. Your sister, perhaps?”

Brigannica winced and made a mental note to crack whips harder from then on. “I do. They will be perfect at their duties.”

“I would expect nothing less,” Olavenya replied. Her form leaned back in the creaky chair, her eyes falling on the shining blade sticking out from the desk.  “If not, I hope you know what must be done.” Her eyes flicked back up to the Brinn warrior, gazing into the woman’s eyes despite how uncomfortable it made Brigannica feel. “When will you reach landfall?”

“A few days, at most.”

“Sooner if you can manage.” The Sorceress spoke forcefully. Everything was riding on being prompt. Olavenya could not deal with anything less than perfection. Things must go as planned. “I would also expect that everyone has been thoroughly debriefed. Nothing. I repeat, nothing, can go wrong with this, Brigannica.”

“You should leave the commanding to me. It is what you put me in charge of, isn’t it?”

Olavenya swallowed hard and smiled somewhat. “Just be sure to let the Goblins be slaughtered first. There are plenty of them. Our true might should be saved for when we truly need them.”

“I believe we have discussed this to some extent, Sorceress.” Brigannica shot back. The Brinn hated being told what to do when it came to battle. It took all of her might to not reach out and strangle the woman before her. Her hand moved to the necklace around her neck, thinking of the things Olavenya had done to make them visible. Through the necklaces, Olavenya could see the shadows in the light. Brigannica’s face softened and she picked up the knife at its hilt and went back to twirling it in her fingertips. If she could not strangle the woman, she could at least make her fear the knife in the warriors fingertips.

Olavenya stood and nodded her head. “We have. Be sure to keep Sedrukar under control. I know you are warriors, but he is a giant and well, has a violent temper.” Brigannica nodded and Olavenya turned and made her way to leave. The door opened again without her touch, showing the extent that her magic could reach. She turned her head to the side for a moment and spoke somewhat icily. “Brigannica, I would hope that you would speak more kindly to me in the future. There are many women of your strength that would kill for your position of power.”

Leaving Brigannica in silence behind her, Olavenya vanished before the threshold, her business at an end.


Her eyes fell shut back in the throne room and opened again, the red glow gone from her face. Her brown eyes were subdued compared to the vibrant crimson that previously shone out from them. Her thin lips pursed slightly as she spoke, “Golem.”

Loud booms rang out through the hall as a stone-like being skulked forth, dragging one arm before him, his face smooth and empty. He stopped before the throne, ready and waiting for his Mistress to guide him. “Golem, ready Hurisco.” Ola spoke commandingly. The golem gave a long blank stare before turning, moving slowly but capable of moving faster. Ola sat back and pressed her fingertips together on both hands before her. “It has begun.”


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