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Kylin

The Forgotten Dynasty

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Posted (edited)

Approximately 160 years ago, somewhere beyond Aldenard.

 

    A hyur man, dressed in fine white velvet clothing and appearing in his late thirties, sat on the edge of a luxurious bed in the massive bed chamber. He was quietly reading from a tome titled "Basic Properties of Magic." An elegant feathered beret covered his neatly groomed brown hair. The room around him was mostly dark, save for a few lit candles and the moonlight shining in through the large open balcony window where the breeze gently blew the expensive looking curtains to and fro.

 

    The sound of a door opening snapped the man to attention as he looked over to the other side of the room. Coming out of a side room was a beautifully dressed hyur noblewoman. Her long jet black hair was mostly tied up behind her, save for some locks purposely left undone to give a more seductive impression. Her fair olive skin seemed radiant when complimented with her near skintight raven black dress that fit her slender figure almost perfectly. Her silver earrings gave off a slight shimmer in the moonlight, as did her radiant red jeweled necklace.

 

    “You look marvelous,” the hyur man said with widened eyes. “You take my breath away. And you know… we still have about half a bell left before the party begins. I know how time management is so very important to you."

 

    The woman smiled faintly as her lover put down the tome and made his way toward her, his boyish snicker all too blatant. He kissed her softly on the neck, his hand reaching behind the woman in an attempt to undo her dress. The woman quickly grabbed the man’s hand and shoved it away somewhat fiercely. The unlucky sap frowned and backed away a bit.

 

    “I’m sorry love,” he said with a quiet sigh. “I know you want to wait until the time is right. But it’s starting to get to me. Your fear of getting pregnant with my child isn’t exactly flattering…”

 

    “You know full well why I wish to wait,” the woman said matter-of-factly before walking toward a large body-sized mirror on the other side of the room, her black dress gliding gently across the marble floor behind her. She stopped in front of the mirror, carefully inspecting her hair.

 

    The man’s gaze followed her. “I don’t know why you’re so obsessed with your children being born from two powerful mages. Does it really matter? As I've said time and again, there is no credible research to indicate a child's magical aptitude is inherited. It's nothing but posturing from wannabe scholars!”

 

    “Credible or no, it still matters,” the woman snapped as she continued making further minor adjustments to her hair. “The legacy I leave behind means everything to me, and I will not take chances. My children must be magically gifted just as I am. Speaking of which, how is your studying coming along?”

 

    The man frowned. “Not well. My dear, I’m just not cut out as a magic user. It’s not my specialty. I’ve been practicing far too long now and my progress is hardly significant. With all due respect, we’re not getting any younger. I want to start a family with you before it’s too late…”

 

    The woman remained quiet for a long moment, staring at herself in the mirror. A look of pain slowly crossed her face as she realized the words he spoke were true. A long moment of silence ensued as the woman continued to stare into the mirror. "Ever astute, as always. It's why I fell for you to begin with. But time is not on my side..."

 

    The man couldn’t help but smile slightly, assuming he had finally gotten through to her after all these moons. He took off his hat and slowly started to unbutton his shirt. The woman turned to him and walked toward her lover with refined grace and confidence. Her smile had a hint of sadness to it, as if slightly disappointed. The man wasted no time, meeting his love halfway as to not give her a second chance to rethink this. The two embraced each other in a passionate kiss.

 

    After the kiss, the woman met her lover's gaze with a smile and gently placed a hand on his cheek. The light from the moon hit her ruby pendant as the two slowly positioned themselves closer to the bed. Stopping suddenly, the woman simply uttered one word; "Defloresco."

 

    A black aura began to dance around the woman, causing the man’s skin to quickly tighten. He tried to pull away from her with a startled scream but the woman held on fiercely, digging her nails into his arms with intense force. The dark energy danced between her and the man, seeming to suck out his life energy bit by bit as his muscles deteriorated and his skin tightened against his bones. His complexion turned a deathly pale color and it clearly became more difficult to struggle against the deadly spell as each second passed. Within seconds, his struggle ended and he dropped to the floor in a withered heap of flesh and bone.

 

    After taking a moment to look at the gruesome sight with what appeared slight sadness, the woman recomposed herself and walked back to the mirror. She opened a drawer in the stand near the mirror and took out some lipstick, reapplying it to her luscious lips. The horrid prophecy of her family's eventual downfall was always at the front of her mind, and she would make her lineage strong enough to survive no matter the cost. And so Carmilla Mavanix, firstborn daughter of the great Joachim Mavanix and founder of Decretum Umbra, casually strode out the room toward the evening party in search of a more suitable mate, leaving behind the withered and soulless corpse of her former love.

Edited by Kylin

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Approximately 10 years ago...


    "Mommy, I want my fortune told!" The hyuran child tugged at her mother's hand anxiously, her little blonde pigtails bouncing to and fro as she did.


    The mother gave a soft haughty laugh as she gently tugged her hand back, adjusting the azure colored brooch fastened to her lower sleeve. "There's plenty of time for that darling. But first, I thought you'd want to see the magic show!"


    The girl made an audible gasp in surprise and nodded in further excitement before following her mother through the crowd toward a large stage.


    It was rare for the tiny Silver Bazaar village to be as bustling as it was. Many from Ul'dah had traveled there today after seeing the flyers for the traveling circus known as Decretum Umbra. Various tents, stages, and performers lined the tiny village and even the outskirts. A beast tamer wowed a crowd on the outskirts of the settlement while a duo of jugglers amazed another group nearby. Toward the entrance of the town were a trio of gypsies, each giving a glimpse into a person's past, present, or future, depending on which gypsy was spoken to. Further into the town was a man performing daring feats with fire, while a hilarious mime performed just a bit further on. A couple of clowns took to the docks while a trio of acrobats took over the opposite side of town.


    But the attraction getting the biggest crowd was the center of town's stage, where the young Marvani the Great performed. No older than 20 years old, the dark haired youth was already gaining a name for himself. The woman and child found a good spot to watch just as a black raven took to the sky. As everyone's eyes went skyward, the raven appeared to quadruple in size. Its black wings appeared to darken the sun's relentless rays and cast a massive shadow below . Awes and gasps echoed through the crowd as the raven suddenly poofed without warning, as if it were never there to begin with. A few more theatrical illusions later, the magician took a bow and exited the stage toward a tent in the back of town. Cheers and claps were the only thing heard as the woman took her daughter's hand to head to the fortune tellers, only to notice her blue brooch was missing.


    "My brooch! Where is it?! That's a priceless relic I acquired at an auction for a hefty price! Darling, help me find it! Let us retrace our steps!" The daughter nodded absently at her mother's panic, though she couldn't help but keep an almost mesmerized gaze on the departing magician...


====================


    Marvani entered the tent, where a group of three awaited inside. Sitting in a cozy chair on one side was a young white-haired hyuran woman dressed in gypsy-like attire, likely no older than Marvani himself. As she sorted through her tarot cards quietly, the other two figures approached the magician.


    "Well?" The older man spoke first, definitely the oldest of the group by perhaps double Marvani's age. His crimson hair was shoulder length and the twin tattoos on his face were an equally crimson hue. Next to him stood another red-haired hyur, seemingly no older than sixteen or so.


    Marvani withdrew a beautiful blue colored brooch from his satchel with a smirk. "Did you honestly expect anything less, Father?"


    Barbas smiled as he gently took the brooch from his son. "Excellent job, my boy. A fine addition to our collection. Take note, Zacriel. Your first mission is three suns from now, after all."


    Barbas turned to take the brooch somewhere secure, ruffling a hand through the young Zacriel's hair as he passed by. The youth flinched away from it slightly, frowning as he quickly took to a nearby mirror to fix his hair.


    The elder hyur carefully placed the brooch in a gold lock box and placed it next to a group of other similar lock boxes. "Our family will survive the coming crisis, no matter the cost..."

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Posted (edited)

Present day...


    Zacriel smirked to himself as he slipped the vial of liquid into a glass of wine before turning and taking the two glasses to the nearby table, where a similarly aged miqo'te man sat waiting. Sliding the drugged glass to the miqo'te, Zacriel took a seat opposite the man. The midlander's red shirt was partially open at the top center of the chest, teasingly revealing part of a black tattoo across the top of his tanned skin. He brushed his crimson bangs away from his emerald eyes, another tattoo on the left side of his face in the shape of a fancy lightning bolt.


    The miqo'te smiled in turn, quickly sipping from the wine glass. The midlander's date had short brown hair and a fairly pale complexion, his designer coatee a signal of his wealth. Even more a signal than the groomed hair and clothing was the house itself though, the manor's marbled floors and wallpapered walls a bastion for the Ul'dahn elite.


    Zacriel watched as the miqo'te drank the wine, taking a sip from his own as well. "This would be the third glass now," the midlander stated rather casually. "I say we move this party to a more comfortable atmosphere. Would you be opposed to...your bedroom?"


    The miqo'te smiled widely at the suggestion and nodded eagerly, taking another sip from the wine. "You don't play games. Just how I prefer it. Shall we then?"


====================


    The miqo'te's bedchambers were just as exquisite as the dining chamber, the royal looking bed fit for a prince. Zacriel smirked as he glanced around the room, wasting zero time in removing his shirt and revealing the fairly chiseled and tattooed flesh beneath. The miqo'te noble quickly followed suit before taking his date's hand and moving toward the bed. Zacriel moved his lips up to the miqo'te's ear and simply whispered a single word. "Somnus..."


    The miqo'te man would instantly succumb to slumber, the drugged drinks making him incredibly susceptible to the simple spell. Zacriel carefully laid the man across the bed and then moved across the room toward the balcony, undressing himself the rest of the way as he did so. Once at the balcony, he made a quick whistle. From the roof above, a large bag dropped down toward the balcony. The midlander caught it and rapidly removed the outfit stashed inside. The blue leather was skin tight as he put it on, leaving little to the imagination to those who would see it. He then placed a mask over his face, obscuring all but his eyes from sight and moved back toward the bedroom door. The sleep spell wouldn't last long, and the midlander had to act quickly.


    Slipping into the well lit hall, Zacriel quietly moved in the direction of his destination: the vault in the basement. As previous intel had already established, there were no guards in the path since all but three were almost entirely focused on guarding the exterior of the building moreso than the interior. Arriving at the vault door, Zacriel gently placed a palm of his leather clad hand on the door, uttering a spell and channeling aether as ice began to spread slowly across the door. Once enough of the door was covered, the mage uttered another spell that caused a small portion of the ice to shatter. After crawling through the hole and almost awkwardly falling in the process, the hyur looked around the small vault for his prize. The boxes of gil were of no importance to him, nor were some of the other irrelevant trinkets. After what seemed like forever, the hyur finally saw his target: a bejeweled crimson egg no larger than a large wine glass. He quickly grabbed the prize and returned through the hole from which he entered, this time a bit more gracefully, thankfully since there was an unexpected audience on the other side this time around.


    The two roegadyn guards had approached the vault with lightning speed, hollering as they moved to grab the intruder. Zacriel barely had time to react and shot off a quick blizzard spell to knock them both back. Knowing they'd be back up in the blink of an eye, he wasted no time in another more powerful blizzard spell and knocked both guards back down a second time before dashing down the hall. The two guards rebounded easily and gave chase. Knowing they were close behind, Zacriel began chanting a spell as he continued running. Aether continued to gather at his fingertips as the two guards began to catch up. When it almost seemed like they would catch the intruder, the mage finished the spell and let the ice spell fly. A massive wall of ice rose from the floor to the ceiling, blocking the path of the guards as Zacriel continued dashing through the mansion. He could hear the guards yelling for backup and hacking away at the ice wall with their blades.


    As time began to run out, the midlander dashed back into his date's bedchambers and quickly began to strip down once again. Rushing to the balcony, he placed his outfit and mask in the bag along with the stolen artifact. Glancing up, he whistled once more and tossed the bag up with all of his strength. A gloved hand on the roof managed to catch the bag and disappear. Zacriel returned to the inside of the bedroom, kicking his original outfit closer to the bed and running over to his date. With lightning speed, he finished undressing his date the rest of the way as the miqo'te continued sleeping. Nearly out of breath, Zacriel quickly got into the bed and under the covers just as the two guards loudly entered the room.


    "M'lord! Apologies for interrupting, but a criminal is in the house!"


    The miqo'te lord slowly rose up in the bed, rubbing his eyes as the clamor broke the sleep spell over him. Zacriel followed suit, though it was very challenging to conceal his heavy breathing from his running. The miqo'te, finally coming fully awake, jumped out of bed and dressed himself while shouting to the guards to go find the thief. Apologizing to Zacriel for the intrusion, the miqo'te told his date to wait in the room where it was safe before rushing out to join the guards in finding the ice mage.


    Zacriel let out a sigh of relief and fell back on the bed with a wide smirk, feeling exhilarated. He ran a hand through his dark red hair and chuckled aloud to himself. His alibi was air tight and there was zero evidence left to point toward him. When his date would return moments later, the miqo'te would apologize for passing out from drinking too much. Zacriel would feign anger and humiliation over the miqo'te 'falling asleep mid deed' and storm out. Neither the miqo'te nor his guards ever suspected Zacriel as the thief.


    And thus another relic lost to House Mavanix years ago was reclaimed. The family would survive, no matter the cost...

Edited by Kylin

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