Hounds Rising

As the moons, Mirus and Seladon, moved through their new moon phases, darkness took the nights while gray clouds, full of rain, drowned the cobblestone pathways between homes and businesses across the town of Moonbright. Most of the wealthy stayed inside, in the Iredale district, while the less fortunate tramped through the water, mud, and stone from Honey Barrow to Ghostway and back, making deliveries during the mornings and nights. During the day, they stayed inside their businesses if possible. Still, the less fortunate, who only rented out stalls near the streets, had to craft makeshift covers using excess wood and leather sacks to keep the water from drowning their produce or tokens within minutes.

The rain could have been handled had it not been for the temperature, which dropped to low thirties and forties. Many citizens found themselves dripping within the first hour of their day and had to burn extra wood in their fireplaces to ensure that their clothes would dry fast enough not to rot so they could wear them again the next day. While wishing for better conditions, they could only keep working in hopes that they made enough coin to take the days off, stay away from the weather, and, even more so, take away the risk of flu.

Humboldt sat inside his comfortable suite at The Pleasant Lord Inn. In front of him, with his back to the wall, he sat at a desk across from the bed. He looked over various scrolls, maps, and loose parchment, with multiple lit candles across his space and empty plates, licked clean just hours before. He took a quill and placed it into an ink bottle, then set it on one of the pieces of parchment. He paused, then wrote down his thoughts.

Dragon came from the Esterhold Peaks, possibly a northern area?

I would have to travel from here to Kelna, then move south.

What would cause a dragon to leave its territory?

He placed the quill into an empty ink bottle. Humboldt thought back to the past few days. He had met with Dean Walker and Queen Sylona and tried to devise a plan of action. The Queen had hired a group of men and women, who would be under his command, to travel with. He had wanted to offer the position to Mr. Muffins and his compatriots, but after the incident at The Jaded Tavern, he wasn’t sure if the Queen would agree that they were the right fit for such a quest. Either way, he hadn’t had a chance to offer a suggestion.

Humboldt was startled when he heard a knock at the door. He stood, the cracking sounds of his knees giving away his lack of youth, and made his way over. Unlocking the bolt, he opened the door and was greeted by a middle-aged woman with red hair and bright green eyes. She smiled, moving the many freckles across the lines of her face. She held a rather large tray of meats, cheeses, and a chunk of bread in her hands.

“Good evening, Kayleen.”

“Kaitlyn,” She gave him a reproachful look but rolled her eyes and smiled again.

“I’m sorry, Kaitlyn. Considering how close the two of you look, I assume you must be confused for your sister often.”

“Well, that’s both the great and terrible part of being a twin, Master Humboldt. Looking the same means everyone recognizes us faster, but that doesn’t mean they know which one is which.”

He stepped aside and let her walk into the room. Kaitlyn walked in, replacing the tray in her hand with the plates that were already there. Humboldt noticed a slight limp in her left leg, which he assumed was from the long hours standing and running around as she and her sister managed the most excellent inn in Moonbright. She worked at a slower pace but kept her eyes up, away from the desk. He found it highly professional of her and appreciated the inn’s silence and privacy, regardless of what was inside it.

“I see your pillows are all thrown to the side, Master Humboldt. Are they not to your liking?” She asked him, gesturing to the pillows tossed off the bed at some point in the night and never picked back up.

“No need, Miss Kaitlyn. I will only be staying one more night, and to be completely candid, there isn’t another pillow like the one at home, so they always end up on the floor.”

“Well, if you need anything, from pillows to food to drinks, don’t hesitate to come on down and let Kayleen or myself know.”

Humboldt nodded and watched as she slowly walked across the room and through the doorway. She turned back around one last time with a mischievous grin.

“I mean it, Master Humboldt. Anything…” She fluttered her eyelashes, then turned and vanished down the hallway. He listened to her footfall on the stairs, then closed his door and shook his head. He smiled, locked the door, and returned to the desk. His eyes glazed over as he tried to take in the bigger picture and hoped he could try to find a clue with the pages in front of him.

Unfortunately, he closed his eyes, feeling no further than he had earlier that day or the past couple of days. He looked over to the various bags he had ready for tomorrow morning, stopping at the arcane bag he would have to place everything else into later. Humboldt walked over to it, picked it up, and put it on his bed.

He looked around, noting the window shutters already being closed and the door recently locked. A bead of sweat formed on his forehead then traveled down his nose and fell to the ground. He reached into the bag, thinking of the item he wanted, and pulled out a glass jar.

The jar had no special significance and could have been picked up from just about any place, but the contents inside made his heart beat harder in his chest. Floating in a clear liquid, a single eye, along with its optic nerve. The eye was completely black, but even just holding the container, he could hear the whispers coming from it, already trying to reach his mind. He didn’t need the voices tonight to convince him, though.

Carefully, he pulled his wand out and waved it around him. A dome of force waved like a thin layer of water, making a barrier of sound and connection between him and the rest of the world around him. He would need quiet and solitude, for his sacrifice would be difficult.

From his side, he pulled out a dagger from its sheath. Slowly, he raised it to his left eye. The light shone from the candles onto the tip, but Humboldt didn’t waste time noticing it as he plunged it in, turning and pulling his eye from the socket. His ears felt like they would burst, but the dome silenced his screams as he threw the dagger and his eye to the ground.

His hands shook as he reached over and grabbed the jar. Carefully opening it, he reached in with his right hand and gently pulled the eye out. Within minutes, his voice had disappeared entirely from strain, and only the voices were encouraging, begging, commanding, and commanding. He placed the optic nerve in, then set the eye into his empty socket.

The pain only increased as he felt the searing heat of the optic nerve latching on. He dropped the jar as he fell to his knees. The eye became focused, and he stared across the room at the mirror as it transformed into a golden eye with a slit for a pupil, much like a cat. The pain increased, and he felt like his head would burst from the pain as the voice whispered back to him.

Under my command, I grant you powers beyond understanding. Stand and rise for the Undying King.