The Dawn of Malice

Requiem of a Noble

In a small, secluded room of the Barclay estate, Elaine and her grandfather, Duke Reginald Barclay, were engaged in a hushed conversation. The flickering candlelight cast shadows on the ornate walls adorned with portraits of esteemed ancestors. Lucian lay on a nearby bed, still unconscious but stable, his breathing shallow but steady.

Reginald’s brow furrowed with concern as he spoke softly to Elaine, “We must ensure Lucian receives the best care without attracting unwanted attention. His injuries are severe, and the wrong eyes could pose a great danger to us and him.”

Elaine nodded – her worry evident in her eyes. “I understand, Grandfather. We cannot risk anyone discovering his identity. But how do we find a physician skilled enough to treat a Laresian in secrecy?”

Reginald took a thoughtful pause before replying, “I have contacts in the city who can help. I’ll discreetly inquire about skilled physicians who are willing to keep this matter confidential.”

As they continued their discussion, the doors to the chamber creaked open, and Caroline Barclay, Elaine’s grandmother, entered the room with Edith by her side. The young girl’s eyes seemed distant, lost in her thoughts, but when she saw Elaine, a small smile graced her lips.

“Elaine,” Edith murmured, “I bring word from the refugee camp. We have been granted permission to move to the farmlands of the Barclay family.”

Elaine’s eyes brightened with relief. “That’s wonderful news, Edith! Thank you for delivering the message. It will be a safer place for everyone.”

Edith straightened – her expression determined. “I wish to serve you, Elaine. I want to be your assistant and help in any way I can.”

Caroline’s eyes narrowed disapprovingly, her voice stern, “You must understand your place, girl. We are allowing you to stay within the estate only to watch over Lucian and ensure his well-being. You are not to meddle in the affairs of nobility.”

Elaine interjected, her voice firm yet compassionate, “Edith, you are welcome to stay close to me, but you must follow the rules of the estate. We cannot risk your life any further.”

Edith nodded, her gaze lowering. “I understand, Lady Elaine. I won’t cause any trouble.”

Caroline’s expression softened slightly, and she sighed. “Just see to it that Lucian is cared for, and that’s all you need to concern yourself with.”

Elaine turned to her grandfather, gratitude in her eyes. “Thank you, Grandfather. With Edith’s assistance, I can focus on overseeing the refugee camp’s relocation and ensuring Lucian receives the treatment he needs.”

Reginald smiled warmly, placing a hand on Elaine’s shoulder. “You are strong and capable, my dear. I have every confidence in you. Now, let us make the necessary arrangements to keep Lucian hidden and cared for.”

As the evening wore on, the Barclay family began to put their plans into motion. The hired physician was brought in under strict confidentiality, and with Edith’s watchful eyes and Elaine’s careful coordination, they ensured that Lucian’s treatment remained a secret.

In the days that followed, the estate bustled with preparations for the refugee camp’s relocation to the Barclay farmlands. Edith remained at Elaine’s side whenever she returned to the estate, staying true to her promise to assist without causing trouble. As the young girl continued to heal from the trauma she had endured, she found solace and purpose in supporting Elaine and helping care for Lucian.

One cold morning, Duchess Caroline Barclay stood on the terrace of the estate – her eyes fixed on the scene unfolding below. The Liliosan refugees were bustling with activity as they prepared to embark on their journey to the farmlands. It had been a few days since the refugees arrived at Caernarfon, and the estate was now filled with a sense of purpose and determination.

By her side, Edith carefully poured a cup of tea for the Duchess, her hands steady despite the chaos around them. The young girl’s dedication had not wavered, and she was still hopeful of becoming Elaine’s assistant, even though her pleas had been met with refusal.

The Duchess admired Edith’s persistence and her desire to assist Elaine, but she was still hesitant at the thought of such a young girl becoming Elaine’s assistant. Though she must admit she could see the girl’s potential.

Caroline took a sip of her tea, her eyes never leaving the refugees below. “It’s remarkable what Elaine has accomplished. I must admit, I was initially skeptical about granting the Liliosans asylum but seeing them now, I can’t help but feel a sense of hope.”

Edith’s eyes brightened at the Duchess’s words. “Lady Elaine is amazing! She’s like a beacon of light in this dark world. I want to help her in any way I can.”

Caroline regarded the girl with a mix of surprise and admiration. “You truly care for Elaine, don’t you?”

Edith nodded fervently. “Yes, Your Grace. She saved my life, and I want to repay her by being her assistant. I promise I’ll do my best to be of service to her.”

Caroline studied Edith for a moment before offering a small smile. “You are a determined young lady, Edith. I must admit, your dedication is commendable. But I do still refuse to allow you to be Elaine’s assistant” Edith’s face saddened a bit, but her determination was not shaken.

The Duchess then turned her attention back to the refugees, her expression softening. “Elaine has grown into a capable leader. I can see why Reginald has chosen her as his successor. It’s time for a new era in Caernarfon.”

Edith nodded – her eyes filled with admiration. “Yes, Lady Elaine will make a great Duchess. She cares about the people and wants to help them. Just like you, Your Grace.”

Caroline’s eyes widened slightly at Edith’s words, touched by the comparison. She turned her gaze to the girl, seeing the sincerity in her eyes, and nodded appreciatively. “Thank you, Edith. I see that you truly believe in Elaine’s abilities.”

Edith nodded. “Yes, I do. And I believe in you too, Your Grace. You may not show it, but you care about Lady Elaine and everyone here.”

Caroline’s heart softened further, and she placed a hand on Edith’s cheek. “Thank you, my dear. You have a keen eye. Perhaps there is more to you than meets the eye.”

Edith smiled for the first time in what seemed to be the longest time, Caroline smiled back at the young girl. “You look more beautiful when you smile, my dear.” Edith’s eyes grew wide but took the compliment with a curtsy before walking away.

Meanwhile, Marseille’s hands were kept busy as he moved amongst the carriages and refugees, the bustle of activity surrounding him. Beside him, Elaine and her grandfather, Duke Reginald Barclay, orchestrated the operation with an air of authority. The estate’s grounds, once tranquil and untouched, now buzzed with purpose as families gathered their belongings, children played in the sun-dappled grass, and a sense of renewal filled the air.

The sun hung high in the sky, casting its radiant beams across the Barclay estate as if bestowing its blessing upon the efforts of those gathered. Marseille’s heart swelled with a mixture of pride and determination. He had seen his people fight through their darkest days, and now, he was part of their exodus into a haven of hope.

Elaine’s voice cut through the organized chaos, her instructions clear and unwavering. “Make sure each family has enough supplies for the journey. Blankets, food, and medical provisions should be prioritized.”

Her grandfather, a man of years and experience, stood beside her, his presence a testament to his wisdom and guidance. His eyes twinkled with a mix of warmth and shrewdness, his presence commanding respect.

Marseille couldn’t help but admire the duo before him. Elaine, once a spirited girl, had blossomed into a poised and capable leader. Her grace and compassion were matched by a newfound strength that seemed to radiate from within.

As the day wore on, Marseille’s interactions with the refugees were marked by a sense of shared purpose. He offered words of encouragement, lending a reassuring hand to those who needed it. Children tugged at his sleeves, their eyes wide with wonder, as they asked questions about their new homes.

At a brief respite, Elaine turned to Marseille, her expression a mix of fatigue and determination. “We’re making progress, Father. But there’s still much to be done.”

He nodded in agreement. “We’re giving them a chance at a better life, Elaine. That’s what matters.”

Her smile was both grateful and resolute. “Thank you, Father. I couldn’t have done this without you.”

Duke Reginald approached, his gaze shifting between them with a knowing glint. “Indeed, though I have my grievances with you, your dedication has been invaluable.”

Marseille inclined his head in gratitude. “It’s an honor to contribute, Your Grace.”

As the sun began its descent, casting long shadows across the estate, Marseille felt a sense of accomplishment. The refugees now had a chance to rebuild their lives, and he had played a part in that. The legacy of Liliosa was not one of defeat but of resilience and unity. As they continued their work, Marseille knew that the bright future they were building was a testament to the strength of the human spirit and the bonds that tied them all together.

Reginald Barclay’s wisdom and connections were invaluable in securing additional supplies and support for the refugees. His influence within the city of Caernarfon proved to be a powerful asset, and his kindness towards the displaced Liliosans earned him their utmost respect.

During the bustling preparations, Marseille couldn’t help but check on Lucian regularly. The Laresian’s accelerated healing amazed everyone, including the hired physician, who marveled at the rate of his recovery. Lucian was bedridden, but his spirits remained high, and he was grateful for Edith’s presence.

As Marseille approached Lucian’s bed chamber, he found the two engrossed in a conversation. Marseille chose to stand by the door, watching over the two with a smile. Lucian noticed him and smiled at his friend, Marseille gave him a small wave and watched as Edith’s eyes sparkled with curiosity, and Lucian smiled warmly at her eagerness to learn.

Edith, despite her traumatic past, had found a sense of belonging within the Barclay estate. In Lucian, she saw a mentor and a friend. In their moments of rest, Lucian took it upon himself to teach the young girl to read and write, recognizing the flame of determination burning within her.

“Edith, my dear, you have a natural talent for learning,” Lucian said with encouragement. “Soon, you’ll be reading books just like Lady Elaine.”

Edith blushed, a shy smile forming on her lips. “I want to help Lady Elaine, Mr. Lucian. She’s done so much for us, and I want to be useful to her.”

Marseille watched the exchange with admiration. Edith’s determination to assist Elaine mirrored his desire to protect and support his daughter. He saw in her a kindred spirit, someone who had been through hardships but refused to let them define her. As Marseille turned to leave, a cold hand clasped his shoulder, he turned to find the Laresian physician behind him, a sad look on his face. The man before him was tall, wearing a white coat with a bag of medical instruments by his side. His face wore a solemn expression, and he addressed Marseille with a sympathetic smile.

“Excuse me, are you Marseille?” the man asked, extending his hand.

Marseille nodded, shaking the physician’s hand. “Yes, I am. And you are?”

The man’s eyes held a hint of sadness as he introduced himself. “I’m Dr. Fotis Valdivieso. I’m Lucian’s physician.”

Marseille glanced at Lucian and then back at Fotis. “Is there any news about his condition?”

Fotis motioned for Marseille to step out into the hallway, away from the view of Lucian and Edith. Once they were out of earshot, Fotis spoke softly. “I’m afraid there is both good news and bad news, Marseille.”

Marseille’s heart raced. “Tell me.”

Fotis sighed. “The good news is that Lucian will live. We managed to stabilize him, and he’s on the road to recovery.”

Relief washed over Marseille, but his brows furrowed in concern. “And the bad news?”

Fotis met Marseille’s gaze. “As a Laresian, Lucian will lose some of his capabilities. His strength will be diminished, and his innate ability to raise the dead will no longer be at play during battles. The damage to the organ that circulates Lifeblood in Lucian’s body has been badly damaged. For the most part, Lucian will still be able to physically strengthen himself but will no longer be able to use his unique abilities.”

Marseille’s shoulders slumped as he absorbed the information. “So, he won’t be the same Lucian we knew?”

Fotis shook his head. “No, he won’t. But he will have a relatively normal life, and he can still lead a fulfilling one if he chooses to avoid battles henceforth.”

Marseille clenched his fists, trying to hold back tears. “Thank you for saving him, Dr. Valdivieso. Please, do everything you can to help him recover.”

Fotis nodded, his eyes filled with compassion. “I no longer need to. In a few days, he’ll be able to walk about. Now, I should get back to my clinic. If you need anything or have more questions, don’t hesitate to send a messenger.”

Marseille managed a weak smile, his gratitude was evident. “Thank you, Doctor.”

Marseille took a deep breath and walked in the opposite direction of the physician. As he left the estate, he felt his heart was heavy with the knowledge that their friend’s life would never be the same.

As the days passed, the Liliosan refugees were ready to depart for the Barclay farmlands. Elaine, Reginald, and Edith watched together as the carriages rolled away, carrying hope and promise for a brighter future.

Marseille turned to look back at the increasingly shrinking form of the Barclay estate – his eyes filled with a mix of emotions. But he chose to smile, as he saw Elaine and Edith by the terrace of the estate, waving goodbye to the Liliosan refugees.

“You’ve grown into an impressive leader, Elaine. I am proud of the woman you’ve become.” Marseille whispered.

As the sun began to set, the estate became quieter, and a sense of accomplishment filled the air. Lucian’s health continued to improve, and Edith remained by Elaine’s side, eager to assist in any way she could. In the days that followed, the Barclay estate took on a new dynamic, with Elaine at its helm.

As they days passed, Marseille constantly found himself perched on the rafters of his half-finished cabin, his eyes gazing into the distance. The past few days had been filled with anxiety and uncertainty, as he was separated from his beloved daughter, Elaine. He missed her dearly, and the worry for her safety gnawed at his heart.

The refugees worked diligently, building their new homes on the farmlands of the Barclay estate. Marseille had been doing his best to help them settle in, but his mind couldn’t help but wander to Elaine’s well-being.

Unable to bear the distance any longer, Marseille made up his mind. He needed to return to the Barclay estate and find out how Elaine was faring. Without a second thought, he headed towards the stables, where he borrowed a strong steed to hasten his journey.

The sun was descending towards the horizon, casting long shadows across the town as Marseille rode towards the Barclay estate.

Along the way, Marseille spotted a quaint tavern. “I won’t be served a meal when I arrive in the estate,” Marseille thought loudly, “Might as well have a warm meal before being berated by the old hag Caroline.”

The flickering candlelight in the tavern cast dancing shadows across the worn wooden tables, creating an ambiance of both warmth and secrecy. Marseille sat alone at a corner table, his eyes focused on the plate of food before him, but his senses attuned to the world around him. His years as a city guard had sharpened his instincts, and he had learned to trust the whispers of his intuition.

Amid the clinking of mugs and the hum of conversations, the low murmur of the men in question reached Marseille’s ears, a whispered exchange that carried a weight of malice. He couldn’t help but overhear the hushed voices, their words dripping with venomous intent.

“...noble blood will be spilled,” one voice muttered, the words laden with sinister anticipation.

“Strike when the moon is high,” another voice chimed in, the plan unfolding with chilling precision.

Marseille’s grip tightened around his tankard, the ominous implications of their conversation seeping into his consciousness. His heart clenched in fear and anger as he listened to their wicked intentions, a plan to sow chaos and death within the very heart of the Barclay estate.

His mind raced, the urgency of the situation cutting through his thoughts like a blade. The estate, his daughter Elaine, and all those who sought refuge within its walls were in grave danger.

Marseille’s gaze flickered toward the window, his thoughts racing. He knew what he had to do, the responsibility of his duty pushing him into action. He couldn’t stand by and allow this sinister plot to unfold unchecked.

With a final swig of ale, he rose from his seat and quickly left the tavern, his half-eaten meal accompanied by coin he’d left for the barmaid stayed there to watch his exit. He knew he had to make haste, Marseille untied his horse and used side streets and alleyways to avoid any suspicious glances from the men he had overheard.

The journey back to the estate felt both long and urgent. He spurred the horse onwards, the steed galloping through the sleeping cobbled streets of the town and towards the looming estate in the distance.

As he approached, he kept to the shadows, making sure to remain unseen. The estate was peaceful on the outside, but Marseille knew that danger might be lurking within. He quietly made his way to the back entrance, hoping to find Elaine or anyone who could listen to his warning. He couldn’t afford to be detected by any potential threats.

Marseille tied his horse to a low-hanging tree branch and just as he was about to reach the door, he heard footsteps approaching. He quickly ducked behind a nearby bush, and his heart pounded in his chest.

It was Edith, the young girl who had become Elaine’s companion during their journey. She seemed to be looking for someone, and her eyes glanced around with concern.

“Marseille?” she called out softly, her voice filled with uncertainty.

Relieved that she hadn’t spotted him, Marseille stepped out from the shadows. “Edith,” he whispered, gesturing for her to come closer. “I need to speak with Elaine. It’s urgent.”

Edith’s eyes widened, and she nodded, sensing the gravity of the situation from the look on Marseille’s face. Together, they hurried towards the heart of the estate, their footsteps echoing in the dusk.

The estate of Caernarfon lay cloaked in darkness as the moon hung low in the star-studded sky. Inside the grand halls, Elaine tossed and turned in bed trying to entertain herself with a book in an attempt to find rest. Her mind was a whirlwind of thoughts, haunted by the recent events and the responsibility she carried for the refugees from Liliosa.

As the weight of her worries became too much to bear, Elaine decided to seek solace in the quiet of the night. The sun had set as she slipped out of bed and tiptoed through the hallways, guided only by the soft glow of early moonlight filtering through the windows.

The estate was silent and still, but Elaine’s senses were heightened, alert to every creak of the floorboards and rustle of the curtains. Her partially blurred vision made her uneasy in the dark, but she pushed her fears aside, determined to find some clarity in the solitude of the night.

As she turned a corner, a chill ran down her spine. Three figures clad in dark clothing emerged from the shadows, lunging towards her with malevolent intent. Instinct took over, and Elaine knew she had to run.

Her heart pounded in her chest as she fled, her footsteps echoing through the hallways. Panic threatened to overtake her, but she knew she had to find safety and help.

Amid her escape, Elaine’s heart skipped a beat as she heard a familiar voice call out her name. “Elaine! Hold on!”

Marseille appeared like a beacon of hope in the darkness. His presence filled her with both relief and confusion. How had he managed to sneak into the estate after being sent away to a remote plot of land to live with the refugees?

Before Elaine could ponder further, her question was answered by Edith tugging her arm to the safety of the corner of the corridor. Marseille engaged the assailants with fierce determination. His movements were fluid and skilled, showcasing a side of him she had never seen before. The would-be assassins proved to be no match for Marseille’s prowess. With a swift series of strikes and parries, he managed to subdue them one by one, leaving them incapacitated on the cold, stone floor.

As the adrenaline began to fade, Elaine and Edith rushed to Marseille’s side, their hearts still racing with fear and gratitude.

“Father, how did you –?” Marseille interrupted Elaine with a reassuring smile. “I couldn’t stay away, Elaine. My place is by your side, protecting you from any danger that comes your way.”

Elaine was both touched and puzzled by her father’s actions. “But you were supposed to be living with the refugees, not risking your life for me.”

Marseille’s gaze softened as he cupped her cheek in his hand. “I couldn’t bear to be separated from you. I couldn’t bear to leave you alone to face these dangers.”

Elaine’s heart swelled with love and gratitude for her father’s unwavering devotion. She knew she had been wrong to think she could handle everything alone. Having her father by her side gave her a sense of strength and comfort she had sorely missed. As they stood together in the moonlit hallway, Marseille revealed how he had chanced upon the would-be assassins in the town and followed them to the estate, sensing that danger lurked.

“I couldn’t let anything happen to you,” he said, his voice filled with determination. “I will always be here to protect you, no matter the cost.”

Elaine embraced her father tightly, her heart overflowing with love and admiration. She knew that with Marseille by her side, they could face any danger that came their way.

“It was by sheer luck that I found out about the ploy to kill you. But I doubt it was the Laresians who planned this.” Marseille said this while patting Edith’s hair, “If Edith hadn’t opened the gates for me, then I would have scaled the walls just to be here.” Edith grinned widely, happy to be appreciated.

The echoes of the night’s harrowing events still reverberated through the halls of Caernarfon as Elaine, Edith, and Marseille caught their breath. The would-be assassins lay defeated, but their moment of respite was short-lived as a blood-curdling scream pierced the air, shattering the calm that had settled upon them.

Instinctively, they turned their heads toward the source of the scream, their hearts pounding with a mixture of fear and urgency. As they looked around, they noticed that parts of the estate had started to glow with an eerie amber light. The realization hit them like a bolt of lightning—the mansion was on fire.

Elaine’s mind raced as her blurred eyes took in the flickering flames, fueled by a mysterious source that seemed to defy the natural order of fire. The danger was imminent, and they needed to act quickly.

“That’s where the Duke and Duchess went before I left for bed,” Edith said, her small voice echoing fear for Elaine’s grandparents.

“We need to hurry and put out the flames,” Elaine said panicking, already taking steps towards the blaze.

Marseille nodded, his eyes filled with concern for the couple and the estate. “Agreed. Let’s go.”

Without hesitation, they hurriedly ran in the direction of the scream they had heard, hoping to find whoever was in danger and offer their aid. The amber light led the way, guiding them through the labyrinthine corridors of the Barclay Estate.

As they turned a corner, they came upon a scene that filled them with shock and horror. One of the grand chambers was ablaze, the flames dancing with a surreal intensity. Amid the inferno, a young servant girl was trapped, her frightened eyes wide with terror.

“We need to get her out!” Elaine shouted, her heart pounding as she saw the flames inching closer to the girl.

Marseille wasted no time. He rushed forward, braving the scorching heat to reach the girl. With a swift and graceful motion, he scooped her up into his arms and carried her to safety.

“The Duke and Duchess are still within the library!” The girl gasped for breath pushing against Marseille’s arms.

As the young servant girl relayed the distressing news of another danger within the mansion, Elaine’s heart raced with fear and urgency. Someone had been surrounded and stabbed in the room adjacent to the grand chamber—the chamber she knew well.

“I have to go to them,” Elaine said, her voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Marseille nodded in agreement – his eyes filled with determination. “I’ll go with you. Edith you stay here and keep her safe.”

Edith nodded in agreement her eyes sparking with determination. She quickly took the servant girl’s hand and her head to Edith’s chest, stroking her hair and calming her down. Edith gave Elaine a reassuring smile as she nodded her head, signaling that everything would be all right.

Elaine led the way, her familiarity with the mansion’s layout guiding them through hidden hallways that circumvented the fire in the grand chamber. The smoke grew thicker as they approached the adjacent room, filling the air with an acrid smell that stung their eyes and made it difficult to breathe.

As they entered the room, Elaine’s heart sank into the sight before her. Her grandparents, Caroline and Reginald Barclay lay on the ground, injured and struggling for breath. The air was thick with smoke, making it difficult to see, but Elaine’s instincts led her to her grandfather’s side.

Marseille, ever the protector, rushed forward to carry Elaine’s choking grandmother into the safety of the hallway. The momentary reprieve allowed Elaine to focus on her grandfather, who was gravely injured.

“Grandfather, please hold on,” Elaine implored, her voice quivering with emotion.

Reginald smiled weakly – his breaths labored. “Elaine, my dear grandchild. You have grown into a strong and capable woman.”

Tears welled up in Elaine’s eyes as she took his hand, feeling the frailty of his grasp. “You can’t leave us, Grandfather. We need you.”

Reginald’s voice was strained as he spoke, but his eyes were filled with love and pride. “My time has come, my dear. But you, Elaine, you are the future of Caernarfon. It is time for you to step into your role as the heir to our legacy.”

Elaine’s heart ached with grief as she nodded, her emotions threatening to overwhelm her. “I don’t know if I can do it without you, Grandfather.”

Reginald’s grip tightened, and he spoke with conviction. “You can, and you will. I have seen the strength within you, and I have no doubt you will lead with wisdom and compassion.”

As his breaths grew shallower, he continued, “I leave the inheritance of the estate to you, my only grandchild. It is time for you to embrace your destiny and lead Caernarfon into the future.”

Elaine’s tears fell freely as she whispered, “I will make you proud, Grandfather. I promise.”

Reginald’s eyes softened with affection as he managed to get a faint smile. “I know you will.”

At that moment, Elaine felt a sense of peace wash over her. Her grandfather’s faith in her abilities filled her with determination and courage. She would honor his legacy and protect the estate and its people with all her heart.

Marseille returned to the room – his face somber as he joined Elaine in her grief. Together, they stood by Reginald’s side, offering comfort and support in his final moments.

As the last breath left Reginald’s body, Elaine felt an overwhelming sense of loss and love. The responsibility of caring for Caernarfon, the Estate, the refugees, and her grandmother weighed heavily on her shoulders.

In the aftermath of the tragedy, Elaine and Marseille exit the room, her grandfather’s limp body in her father’s arms. She turns to her grandmother, grieving and lost, and hugs her tight. Their wails and cries, begging for justice echoed in the halls of the Barclay estate and Marseille wiped away his tears. Edith and the servant girl find and join them in their grief.

Elaine’s eyes grow fierce and unfeeling as the dawn of a new day illuminates through the broken windows and burnt walls of the estate – revenge burns in her heart.