Radovid stared into the empty eyes of the deceased priestess of Alassochisma who lay dead before him. Her eyes were streaked with crimson tears and a pungent smell of rust, brine, and methane had perverted the air. Vomit and bodily fluids littered the grounds and the old general stared at the scene with uncanny serenity amid the gore
Perhaps it was partly due to the comfort of his cigar that filled his mouth and lungs with incense and herb. More than half of the castle was dead and another large number were crippled by the poison. Some officers and soldiers were spared– and the wizards of the Grey Tower were suspiciously untouched, but the cataphracts and reinforcement garrison from Calia were all dead.
Radovid held the dead's gaze for several minutes, he muttered into empty air.
"Yet again, I've been spared undeservingly."
The old general wiped away a swab of blood from his nose.
By uncanny chance, the priestess of Alassochisma had appeared to ask Radovid some questions regarding rites for the soldiers when the poison had started reacting throughout his system. He should be dead by rights. But the priestess prayed to Alassochisma and exchanged his fate with her own– causing her to die in his place.
By miracle the poison was transferred from his body into hers, and so she suffered the effects which he would have suffered instead. But despite that divine intervention had saved his life, Radovid was not happy. He felt only a greater and more painful shame instead.
A contingent of city officers arrived at the castle and proceeded to Radovid's private chambers quickly. They checked on the general and began to inquire immediately as to the safety of the castle, himself, and the city.
"It's fine," he said, "I'm fine. Everything is fine."
"Well, for good measure, I'd request that you see a healer as soon as possible, sir. This… disaster has shaken the whole entire city."
Radovid dismissed the soldiers with a gesture. He remained silent long after the men had left. Behind him, a figure emerged from the shadows.
"Ever loyal to the empire, aren't you Radovid? I must admit, even I'm impressed at your ruthlessness. We shades all feel ugly when performing this work, but none of us perform it lightly."
Radovid turned to glance at the shadow for a moment and muttered, "so you're here in person, young lord. I didn't expect you to come all this way to the southern border yourself."
"Naturally, I have much work to do these days, but thanks to you things will be much smoother now."
The shadow tilted its head as it glanced at the dead priestess on the floor.
"Still, how unlucky for you. That makes twice you've failed to kill yourself, and now for the second time a priestess of Alassochisma had to suffer because of you. Quite sad, isn't it?"
Radovid exhaled a wave of grey smoke. His voice came out dry and cold, "don't you have more interesting things to do than provoke me, lord Caleb Archphantom?"
Caleb's response was sardonic, "what? I can't help but feel in high spirits, you know. After all, misfortune for one man is a blessing for another. I'm quite lucky that I get to make use of you as my spy for a little longer."
"Are you quite satisfied with this slaughter then?"
"Indeed, this should effectively drive a wedge between the southern dukes and the third prince, they won't even think of working together now that his majesty lord Elijah has lost no less than three hundred imperial cataphracts and an additional two thousand of his own private army. The third prince won't have any capacity to influence succession for some time, an ordinary duke would take generations to recover losses like these."
Radovid watched as the young Archphantom heir ruffled through his private desk and pulled out a bottle of Ramian wine. He took two glasses and poured them both until decently filled. Then, without any apparent regard for his own health– not even a basic check, he sipped the wine and savored it.
"Still," he said between sips, "it was a bold move by Ramnicus to prepare secession in this political climate. If the empire had to fight on two fronts it would've been far more challenging to overcome. Now we can enter the heartlands and march east without worrying about a flank from the south."
"You imperial shades really are a nasty sort."
"We serve the empire, General Radovid. This is merely what it takes to sustain the golden age. The third prince is politically indisposed, and the southern dukes are weak enough now that they can no longer threaten secession. Yet not so weak as to be vulnerable to an attack by Kar'kasha across the Anor strait. To protect what you cherish, what would you give?"
"Whatever… But since you're here, that means you have more dirty work you want me to do for you."
"Not for me, for the empire."
"Then what is it?"
"Now Radovid, I know your true loyalty lies not with the emperor, but the second prince. That's fine for now. The second prince is hardly a threat to royal succession given his health. In fact, our objectives even align right now, as it happens."
Radovid's eyes narrowed, he leveled a skeptical gaze to the young Archphantom boy.
"You align with the second prince? I doubt that. What is it you're truly after?"
"That is beyond your station. But know this: the second prince desires that the wars and bloodshed cease, does he not? I too desire this outcome although for a different reason. Let us combine our insights."
Radovid considered the offer proposed by Caleb.
"Then, you wish to exchange information with the second prince."
The Archphantom boy bowed, "as you say."
Radovid sighed, "fine. I'll send a carrier to the second prince and let him know. You should meet him personally in the capital— if you're serious about this exchange, that is."
Caleb clasped his hands together, "marvelous, then we have a deal! I hope my conversations with the second prince will bear many fruits."
The general took a long drag on his cigar and muttered, "go on then, vanish back into the shadows where you belong. I tire of your fiendish demeanor."
For better or worse, the shade abided Radovid's command. When the Archphantom was gone and Radovid was alone to wallow in his own misery again, he let his lungs fill with smoke heavily.
Only two short coughs sputtered from his mouth soon after. He eventually left the chambers and called a worker to collect the dead priestess' body and process it properly to the church of Alassochisma. Then the general made his way to the medicine hall to see a physician. Once he was cleared, the elf captain of the eastern gate arrived to question him.
"Sir Radovid, I am Cardëlassë of the far east elven people. I would like to ask you a few questions regarding the poisoning of the Black Keep."
"Ask away elf," said Radovid and lit himself another cigar.
"Can you tell me what you witnessed the night of the massacre?"
"Nothing unusual. The men were in high spirits after the duel between the Drakkennide boy and Kalados. Everyone was eating in the great hall, Kalados was arguing about the circumstances of his loss. There was nothing especially terrible about that night, unless you count the usual vain attempts by the Dark Mists to break the barrier."
"I see, and survivors claimed to witness that you had eaten the same stew as everyone else, but only about half of the garrison suffered a deadly poisoning. The rest had either mild or moderate poisoning and only a few castle servants were spared any harm. Why is it that you are fine, general Radovid?"
"I was poisoned like everyone else, you can check yourself if you wish. But a priestess of Alassochisma happened to be nearby and sacrificed herself for me."
There was a pause before Cardëlassë replied.
"I'm sorry to hear of that. I'm sure your feelings are complex."
"It's alright, not the first time. Is there anything else you'd like to ask me?"
The elf paused and added, "was there a priestess of Sòl in the castle with you during the night of the massacre?"
General Radovid shook his head, "there was a priestess of Sòl here for a few hours during the afternoon, but she left along with the youngest son of house Drakkennide before nightfall. They took the north gate through the pass of Ariel, or that's what the priestess told me anyways."
The subtlest breath of relief was heard as Cardëlassë absorbed this information.
"I see. In that case, I have no further questions for you, general. You are free to leave."
The General nodded and rose from his seat. He moved to the exit and Cardëlassë's eyes sharpened ever so slightly as he watched the general depart. He turned to one of his men, "set a tail on the general— just to observe for now."
"Is he still in suspect?"
"Not necessarily, but his heartbeat was unusually calm– even for a veteran as seasoned as general Radovid. In any case, caution never hurts wise men. Just watch what he does for now."
Meanwhile, the general moved towards the carrier tower.
Inside was housed a number of carrier pigeons, each with small leather pockets tied to their legs. Some had larger satchels on their backs for longer missives. The general used his authority to send an undocumented message destined for the capital city. He wrote for approximately one quarter of an hourglass' sand before loading the pigeon and sending it off northward.
This action was seen by the observer placed on him in secret, who reported it back to Cardëlassë an hour later.
In addition to this however, Caleb Archphantom also spied on the observer, though he dared not venture too close to the elf, fearing that the elf's enhanced vision or hearing would detect him.
He pulled a small jasper stone from his pocket which glowed faintly in phantom green. He muttered a few quiet words to the stone and then set it back in his pocket. He soon faded from the narrow alleys of Anor into the background, appearing no different from a poor commoner passing through the harbor district.