The only people now standing on the floor of the Forum circle were Vorador and Enlil, the two of them facing each other across the width of the chamber. The Senate around them was watching in avid fascination, all eyes on the two figures standing there. Ajatar was off to one side, her hands on her hips quite pointedly near the hilts of her two blades. There were many Hylden in the House of War that wanted to take her under armed guard at least.
Enlil clenched and unclenched her fist around the shaft of her spear, pausing briefly to shift her shoulders to compensate for the weapon’s weight. Calmly Vorador stood there, observing her unblinkingly with a steady, analytical gaze. He saw instantly that she was no simple enthusiast. Her balanced stance revealed she had had extensive combat training. This would normally not be an obstacle. His own strength and speed were enhanced far beyond what was normally physically possible, but Vorador was not at all sure of what the limits of Hylden endurance were. He had never before faced one in battle himself.
Lord Enki had taken a position in the elevated seats, safely out of the way of the combat arena. He glanced between them and then nodded once.
“Begin.” He said firmly.
Vorador relaxed his body and arched his back, holding Marrow up level with his chest, one hand before him with talons spread.
Enlil was the first to attack. She lunged across the distance between them with the Gáe Bolga arching around in her grip, the sharp edge of its tip making a whistling sound as it passed through the air. The movement was fast, far faster than Vorador had been expecting, perhaps augmented by the supposed ability of its material to enhance the wielder’s strength and stamina while in moonlight. Still he dodged it, sidestepped so that the tip passed a mere inch from the end of his nose.
He struck back with Marrow and the curving blade clashed against the shaft of the spear. Sparks flew off in all directions at the collision of metal on metal. Enlil back stepped swiftly, spinning her small body around with the spear tip becoming a deadly cutting whirlwind. The Vampire parried each strike away in a blur of his sword arm, his eyes tracking her every movement despite her speed. Patiently he waited for an opening that would inevitably open in her offensive posture.
When it came, he slapped the oncoming spear tip of Gáe Bolga aside so that it stabbed through the air past his head. In the same motion he thrust Marrow forward, his aim perfectly angled to stab through her chest.
Unfortunately it seemed that Enlil had been holding back. Her arms spun backwards in a way that ought not to have been physically possible and the butt of the Gáe Bolga knocked Marrow off to one side away from its intended target, the blade missing her entirely. Then she sidestepped and backed off, spinning the spear around in front of her defensively.
Vorador frowned and took a few short steps to the left, quickly re-evaluating her. If she could perform manoeuvres like that then a conventional fencing technique was not going to be sufficient.
“Come Vampire, let us see if the vaunted regenerative abilities of your kind can stand up to a wound made by the Gáe Bolga.” She offered, her voice an insulting contemptuous purr. Swiftly she brought up the spear so it was level with her head. “This weapon makes only one wound when it punctures the body yet when it is pulled out...” She drew the weapon back and in the moonlight, the many barbs along its surface gleamed faintly. “It tears open the flesh and sends entrails flying. I wonder if you can regenerate your insides after I scatter them all over the floor.” 
Vorador ignored the words with perfect ease. He had heard this kind of idiotic nonsense too often from arrogant young fledglings, drunk on their elevated sense of power. Humans were not powerful creatures and when they were granted abilities by the Dark Gift, it frequently went to their heads. Even Kain had been guilty of it in his youth. Briefly, he wondered if the augmenting power of the metal the spear was made from was causing a similar reaction in this Hylden girl. If so, that could prove useful. Over confident people made mistakes.
This time it was his turn to go on the offensive, darting to the left with Marrow at the ready. Enlil turned to face him but as she did, Vorador performed a sharp turn in mid-stride and came at her frontally. Marrow sang through the air as it descended towards her collarbone. The Hylden girl saw the attack and stepped back but the tip of the sword sliced through the skin of her chest regardless. Hissing, she backed off, holding up a hand to the injury. It was a fleeting scratch of a wound but it bled profusely. She brought her hand away from her chest covered in blood and she snarled. He had drawn first blood.
Then, just to show her he could, Vorador gestured with his free hand once. Instantly the blood on her hand and from the cut itself leapt through the air and straight down his open mouth, telekinetically drawn to him. It was a fleeting amount of blood and its loss would not hamper her but its psychological impact was far greater.
Enlil let out a bark of indignant rage at such an affront, her eyes bulging. Angrily she wiped the blood away from the wound and then darted to one side, spinning Gáe Bolga with both hands. Vorador cleaned the blood from his lips with the back of his hand and then ran forward as well, keeping himself low down to the floor to maintain his centre of balance.
The Hylden girl swung her spear around almost as if she were trying to cleave him with an axe blade, losing some of her finesse in her anger. Vorador danced clear to the left, then back to the right to avoid the next swing. Snarling, Enlil drew the Gáe Bolga back and stabbed at him furiously over and over again. Vorador watched her motions with unblinking eyes and fluidly he slipped through each lunge, his movements seeming less like he was dodging the weapon of an enemy trying to kill him and more like a single flowing dance routine. This was no result of his Vampire enhanced skills, although that certainly helped, but was rather a refined martial arts technique. It had begun with a simple defensive stance taught to all new Serioli recruits which he had gradually adapted over the centuries to best fit his growing powers.
It allowed him to quickly anticipate her moves and use his own body weight to slip through them, his motions as fluid as the breeze. Each time he dodged a swing he took a step nearer, inexorably slipping past her line of defence.
The Hylden girl took a few steps backwards, suddenly bending and drawing the bladed tip of Gáe Bolga across him at the shins. Vorador leap out of the way, somersaulting in mid air. Marrow flashed in his grip, coming down at Enlik’s unprotected head. But she dove forward, rolling across the floor before springing back to her feet. Backing off a short distance she held the spear up at head height and then with a tremendous heave she tossed the weapon full at the Vampire. Her throw was powerful and the Gáe Bolga flew like a shot arrow directly at his head.
Vorador had not been entirely expecting the speed of the throw and the only thing he could do to prevent his head being impaled was slip himself back into his bird form.
Shape shifting was a skill any Vampire could acquire, given enough time and the imagination required. Usually most could turn themselves into bats or dogs. Vorador, however, had chosen to educate his body to take on the shape of the ravens which had once flocked to his mansion. His body contracted in on itself with a crackling of energy and Gáe Bolga sailed harmlessly overhead, imbedding itself into the side of the wall with some force.
Flapping his wings, Vorador flew away from the weapon while Enlil darted forward to retrieve her weapon. She yanked it free of the hole it had made with seemingly no effort.
Vorador crossed to the other side of their arena and blurred back into his own form, Marrow once again in his grasp.
“Changing shape, and any other foul Vampire art ought not be allowed!” One of the Hylden from the House of War proclaimed, standing up and waving a fist in the air. There were many who joined that protest.
“There are no rules against the participants of a contest using any skills at their disposal.” Enki replied firmly, without taking his eyes off of the contest. “Objection overruled.”
Enlil ignored the banter above, sidestepping slowly, holding the spear level as if she intended to throw it again. Vorador followed her pattern, stepped to the side in the opposite direction.
This time it was the Vampire to go on the offensive, rushing in with Marrow arching up from below swiftly. Enlil quickly brought Gáe Bolga up to block it and the blade glanced off the barbs along its length. Vorador brought the length of his sword down across her form and that was when Enlil struck back, flicking the tip of her spear up and knocking the blade aside.
In that same motion, the many barbs running along its length raked savagely down the Vampire’s sword arm, biting in deep. Blood welled from the torn and shredded flesh instantly. The barbs sliced through the arm and tore through his outer red robes. With a hiss of pain Vorador backed off several paces, almost dropping his sword.
An expression of jubilation spread across Enlil’s face at the sight of the injury. She turned and held her weapon and its blood soaked barbs up to her compatriots in the House of War above, who called down encouragement and cheers for the wounding.

Vorador quickly inspected the wound. The tearing barbs had gone through his flesh deeply, but his energy resources were more than sufficient to heal such an injury. Grunting he forced the wound closed, the flesh reuniting and the skin concealing it once more. The red robe he wore, however, was now a shredded ruin and flapping in his way.
Reaching up he unclipped the two obsidian shoulder pads to let them fall down behind him and drag the robe with them, leaving him in his white shirt, belt and trousers. Forcefully rolled his sleeves up over his elbows and flicked his now healed arm.
“Impressive.” He admitted almost happily with some genuine appreciation for the cutting edge of such a weapon. “Just what animal do those teeth come from?” Enlil traced one finger across the edge of a barb, cleaning away the blood.
“These are the fangs of the Ammit, a terrible native of the demon realm, a unique creature that is constantly fed by a host of its kin with fresh blood and torn organs.” She said with a hint of malice, placing the butt of the staff on the floor and wrapping her hand around its hilt.  “My master, Shamash, braved the wilds of that hideous realm to face the Ammit in combat and pried from its jaws the teeth that adorn this spear.”
Vorador fluidly held Marrow out before him, his stance relaxed as if he were merely fencing.
“Bones and teeth, blood and organs.” He said and a deliberately malicious grin crossed his face. “How deliciously macabre.”
Enlil’s triumphant smile faded somewhat and she flicked the Gáe Bolga up into both hands again, before launching herself at the Vampire with renewed effort.
By now, however, Vorador had decided that enough was enough. He had taken the time to gauge the full extent of the Hylden girl’s abilities and however much they were enhanced by the material of her weapon, his skill still exceeded hers. There was nothing to be gained by prolonging this conflict any longer.
Enlil was coming at him with the spear and swiftly he sidestepped to avoid the stabbing motion, batting the blade to one side with a flick of Marrow’s blade. Quickly he was inside her defences and stayed there, slashing away at her with Marrow. The spear was a long-range weapon and not ideally suited for close combat, especially with its bulk against the short slashing technique the Vampire began to employ.
Eyes widening in alarm and sudden frustration, Enlil kept backing up trying to gain more room. Vorador moved with her, not allowing her a moment to recover, keeping her on the defensive. He wasn’t trying to break through her defences but rather keep her pinned long enough for the girl to make the mistake he was waiting for.
Letting out a snarl, Enlil stepped quickly to the side and thrust the spear downward, trying to piece him through the leg and immobilise him. Vorador countered by bringing his boot up sharply. The toe of his boot knocked the descending blade tip aside. Taking advantage of that deflection, the Vampire brought Marrow forward and up.
The blade sank into Enlil’s left shoulder deeply and bit into the bone, drawing a pooling stream of blood. With a howl she backed off, quickly placing her hand to the wound to prevent the loss and any attempt on his part to feed from the injury. This wound was far more serious but the anger in her eyes showed that she cared little for it.
After a moment to gather up her rage, she held up the spear and with a roar of indignant fury she charged.
This was the mistake Vorador had been waiting for. She was blinded by her hate, pain and anger and did not notice that she had left herself wide open.
As she came at him, the spear held back for an impaling style move, the Vampire grabbed the oncoming blade in his free hand, cupping his talons under to avoid its sharp edge. Enlil’s own momentum almost did the rest. With one heave Vorador arched his back and pulled the Hylden girl up overhead. For a single suspended moment she hovered in mid air and then with a single motion he smashed her down to the ground with all the force he could muster.
She hit the floor with a loud smacking crunch sound and part of her horn-like crest broke off where she had struck the ground. The girl rolled a short distance and then came back up to her feet. Her face was contorted with an expression of intense frustration, which quickly turned to shock when she saw the small piece of broken horn lying on the ground before her. Quickly her hand went to the tip of her crest, feeling the now jagged end.
The Hylden in the Senate seats began to murmur in surprise and dismay. Vorador quickly discerned from their reactions that a Hylden’s crest was a distinctive mark, probably of family distinctions which he had earlier hypothesised. Apparently the breaking of the crest was a symbolic disgrace of some odium.
Quickly Enlil’s expression changed and became a glare of such violent hatred that her eyes almost seemed to flicker with the usual Hylden green fire again. 
“I will finish what my predecessor started and destroy your filthy kind!” She said, almost spitting the words as she tried to use the Gáe Bolga to push herself back to her feet.
Vorador looked at her with a contemptuous expression.
“Hold your infant tongue, whelp.” He said flatly.
Enlil took one step towards him and there was a loud, sickening crunch as the bone in her leg which he had suspected she had damaged in the impact finally broke. With a squeal of agony she collapsed face first onto the floor, Gáe Bolga spinning harmlessly out of her grip.
“No!” She cried out in dismay and the Hylden in the Senate above gasped. Quite calmly Vorador walked over to her. None too gently he turned her over onto her back with one foot. Her leg was twisted off in an unwholesome direction and purpling grotesquely. He laid the tip of his blade against her throat, a clear sign of his victory.
The duel was over and he had won.
“Damn you, blood sucking leech!” Enlil cursed him and tears of frustration began to roll down her cheeks.
Vorador, staring down at her, briefly tensed as if he were just on the verge of thrusting Marrow down and severing her windpipe.
Then he quickly flicked his eyes up at Ajatar. The Grandmaster of the Serioli gave a very short shake of her head and frowned. He relaxed then. She was right. If this girl died then the House of War would rise up like an angry tide at her martyrdom. 
“The trail at arms is decided.” Lord Enki declared in a loud voice to all assembled. “Enlil has fallen. As per the law, the matter is concluded in the favour of Princess Damkina.” He gestured up towards the Seer who still sat on her throne, perched on the edge of her seat. “The Hylden nation opts for a ceasefire with the Vampires.”
Vorador flicked his eyes down to Enlil. The Hylden girl lay there with pain clear on her face from her wrenched and broken leg and even more from embarrassment and chagrin. Her expression twisted into a mask of utter dismay but then it all faded into a distraught and reluctant acceptance.
“I... I must follow the law.” She admitted in a wavering and broken voice, taking deep breaths against her own pain. She turned her head and called out. “The House of War agrees to the truce.” This was declared with utmost unwillingness.
Kishar, the new leader of the House of Faith, lowered her head in acceptance. She had not seemed emotionally invested either way and had protested the proposed ceasefire merely because it was her duty to do so.
“The House of Faith must obey the law.” She said in a loud and clear voice. “We also agree to the truce.”
“As does the House of Knowledge.” Tiamatu called out firmly. There were many reactions from the assembled Senate. There were many long and angry faces but also quite a few that looked relieved and others simply glad that the battle was over.
“Then the three Houses are in unilateral agreement.” Lord Enki proclaimed and clapped his hands together in front of his chest. “The ceasefire is ratified.”
With the proclamation officially passed and now official policy, many Hylden began talking amongst themselves in voices that were none too quiet.
“I think that concludes our need for the discussion of politics this evening.” The Seer said from her throne. Enki nodded in response.
“Indeed. I call this meeting of the Senate to an end.” He declared. The murmuring Senate crowd did not wait for this, many having already risen to file out of the chamber. They would spread the news of what had taken place here to the rest of the city in no time.
Enki did not leave but rather supervised when two Hylden entered carrying a stretcher. They came in quickly and picked the injured Enlil up, transferring her over and then lifting her. Vorador presumed that she would be taken to whatever the Hylden had in place of a Healer. The new leader of the House of War quite deliberately turned her head away and did not look at him as she was carried past. The Gáe Bolga weapon was retrieved and carried out after her quickly.
Enki made to follow, but he paused and looked back. His eyes flicking between Ajatar-Cadre and Vorador himself.
“Vampires... I would not linger here if I were you.” He advised slowly, in a politically neutral tone of voice. “We may have agreed to a ceasefire, but passions will run hot so long as you remain.” He gestured to the team leaving with the injured Enlil. “Please, depart as soon as you can.”
Vorador lowered his head briefly in acceptance of the polite but candid phrasing. Enki did the same, before turning and leaving the chamber.
Kishar turned and bowed in deep respect to the throne.
“Princess Damkina, congratulations on your political success.” She said with some genuine appreciation. “An excellent strategy; pushing Enlil into becoming the symbolic figurehead for the conservatives and then knocking her down.”
The Seer chuckled, almost girlishly, and stood up.
“I never fooled you for a moment, did I?” She asked.
Kishar smiled politely. “No, Princess.” She admitted. “You didn’t.” She bowed again and left, following the other members of the House of Faith out of the Forum.
The Seer watched her go and then began to walk down the stairs from her throne to the chamber’s floor.
“An excellent outcome, wouldn’t you agree?” She asked the Vampires as she descended. Vorador’s ear flicked in irritation and he forcefully sheathed Marrow back into its scabbard at his side. Anger was clear in his face and the Seer paused on the bottom steps at his vehemence.
“Is this all you required?” He asked flatly and harshly, gesturing around at the Forum chamber with its battle damage and scattered blood. “Hired thug muscle to put down the dogmatic elements standing in the way of your reforms?”
The Seer’s expression became disturbingly neutral and she regarded him with a level gaze, her eyes narrowing with frosty disdain.
“I honestly thought you knew me better than that.” She remarked coldly and then carried on down the steps to the floor of the Forum. When she got there, that cold manner had completely disappeared and her face was once more pleasantly smiling. Vorador’s frown deepened at the use of such an obvious mask.
“Vorador, Ajatar-Cadre.” She began to the two Vampires, nodding to each of them. “Might I present the Lady Tiamatu, the newly appointed Maestro of the House of Knowledge.” She half turned and beckoned the only other Hylden in the room to come forward.
Tiamatu had not left the Forum with the others but had remained quietly to one side, as if she had been asked to in advance. Vorador supposed that was highly likely. At her introduction she stepped forward.
Close up Vorador saw her in greater detail. Her skin was perfectly smooth without a sign of any of the corrupting blemishes from the demon realm and, despite being hidden behind her crest and hard to see, her hair was silky smooth. It was her eyes that were the most startling part of her face. They had no irises at all, almost pure white the whole way through, as if she were blind. Yet she walked with full knowledge of where she was going.
“One has heard much about both of you.” She said in greeting and her voice had that same strange accent the Seer had, although far more fluid.
“None of it pleasant, I am sure.” Ajatar remarked ironically with a roll of her eyes. Tiamatu smiled with a chuckle.
“Indeed, although even that distorted account is impressive.” She asked, turning to face the Winged Ancient. “You, Ajatar-Cadre stepped over three thousand years to come to this era, along with the rest of your Order.” Slowly she approached her and Ajatar twitched a little in reaction. Tiamatu stopped then to reassure her.

“Pardon my curiosity, but I was born in the demon realm... after the war and the enforcement of the Binding. I have never had the opportunity to observe the wings of your kind firsthand.” She said and held out her hands imploringly, lowering her head to show respect. “May I?” She asked.
Ajatar watched her with her golden eyes quite wide for a long moment, seemingly taken aback by the request. She hesitated a long moment and then her expression changed, becoming a little softer and slightly amused. She stood up straight and then began to spread her black feathered wings out to either side of her, pushing them to their full extent.
Tiamatu watched her do so and smiled. Slowly she came near and began to examine the wings close up, turning her head this way and that as she observed. Very gently she reached up and began to run her hands over the feathers, sliding up and then over the framework itself. Ajatar twitched at the touch and actually blushed, watching the exploration of her wings by this Hylden female.
“Ahh... excellent...” Tiamatu commented in some satisfaction. “What a wonderful evolutionary adaptation, the production of feathers encouraged in a mammal.” She held one black feather in her hand and tested the fibres of the feather with her thumb. Then her attention turned to the muscles, walking around Ajatar to observe her bare back, much to the Grandmaster’s uncomfortable dismay.
“And such a superb distribution of muscle across the shoulders, allowing for powered flight without the loss of physical strength from the rest of the body.” Tiamatu concluded, coming around the other side. She smiled at Ajatar. “Thank you for your patience, Grandmaster.” She said. Ajatar seemingly had nothing to say to this and merely coughed into her fist.
“And you, Vorador...” The leader of the House of Knowledge said, turning to face him. Vorador raised an eyebrow now that her attention had been turned on him. “It is a historical fact that you were decapitated and then returned to life.” She said. “Very few have had the chance to dip into the Wheel of Fate and then return.”
Vorador had been trying for quite some time to forget about that incident, even centuries later. Having his head forced into the slot of a guillotine, his body kept paralysed by the influence of that damned staff, was not something he really wanted recalled at any point. His resurrection had not been that pleasant either.
“Indulge me, if you please.” Tiamatu urged him with curiosity in her voice. “Is the afterlife really as terrible as my people suspect?”
The Vampire paused at the question and his face became grave.
“I honestly don’t remember anything in great detail.” He replied and then frowned slightly. “All I know for certain was that I was kneeling before the blood thirsty crowd, the guillotine blade descending. Then I was swimming, dipped down into a river I cannot really describe. I felt like I was being dragged somewhere, caught in some strange tide. But then I felt myself being called back.”
That, of course, had been when Umah, with a little help from a time displaced Kain, had recalled his soul back to his restored body. In reality the time between his death and his rebirth had been no more than a few days, but that dip into death had seemed like it had taken much longer.
“The River of Damned, the tide that flows through pain and sorrow, down into the bowels of the stomach of time.” Tiamatu said cryptically, tilting her head to look up at the glass ceiling above. When she caught the confused looks being directed at her by the two Vampires she clarified; “It’s a quote from the holy scripture of our people, the Gospels of True Sight, the Story of Warnings.”
Then she smiled warmly.
“But enough of religion.” She said briskly and turned to gesture towards the Seer with a nod of her head. “The Princess tells me you have some need of restoration.”
Vorador’s expression went flat and seeing that, Tiamatu nodded.
“Yes, I know of the plight of Janos Audron.” She confirmed for him. “Ishtar had him displayed in public often, beaten, humiliated and forced to watch himself over the years as the corrupting influence of that other realm twisted his mind and body.” Her tone was disapproving as she spoke. “But the Forum is not a good place for such discussion, too open to access by anyone.” Vorador cast a glance around the chamber. It seemed devoid of anyone but themselves, but it was entirely possible that the other Hylden Houses were observing them through some discreet spying mechanism. “Let us go to the privacy of my laboratory in the House of Knowledge dome, where we may speak without hostile eyes and ears observing.” The leader of the House of Knowledge recommended.
“I believe that would be prudent.” The Seer agreed with a nod. “Lead on.”
It was not necessary to exit the Forum’s structure to reach their destination. The Hylden Avernus was arranged like a triangle, with the domes for each of the major Houses set in each corner and the Forum itself in the middle. Projecting out from the dome of the Forum, long enclosed walkways extended across the distance. From the opposite end, another walkway extended and the two halves met in the middle to make one whole. This proved convenient as Vorador doubted he and Ajatar could simply walk through the streets, even if a ceasefire had been approved. Too many Hylden would be like Enlil: full of the old prejudice.
Still, Vorador found himself growing agitated. He knew he was being led around by the nose and he was disinclined to allow it unless it served some greater purpose. So far, all he saw was himself being slyly used to further another’s political career.
As they walked through the long walkway, following Tiamatu, he walked beside the Seer and whispered to her in a low tone.
“I am not disposed to be tolerant of this foolishness for very long.” He told her flatly. The Seer’s expression did not change and she did not meet his eye.
“Have a little patience, Vorador, if you please.” She told him pleasantly. “You certainly possess more of that quality then either Kain or Raziel.”
Vorador snorted in derision.
“Kain is an idealistic fool with delusions of grandeur.” He remarked with some distaste. “And the blue skeleton is hopelessly naive.”
The Seer’s smile actually widened at this and she half turned to give him an amused sideways glance.
“And that is what makes the two of them the best hope for this world.” She replied and walked on without further explanation.
-0-
“The Hylden, or Unspoken, culture was once a subject of the deepest archaeological mystery to me. Their cities and ruins had been all but totally destroyed, all obvious evidence of their existence removed so that they might be forgotten. Yet here it was now before me, restored to all its glory. This House of Knowledge put the finest minds of humanity to utter shame, a haven of advancing science and rational inquiry. Despite what Janos might say, I categorically approved.”
-0-
The dome of the House of Knowledge was a single large, hollow chamber, its ground floor segmented into many open compartments, each of which seemed to be devoted to different disciplines. From a brief glance from this bird’s eye view, Vorador thought he could see activities related to sciences that had only just been discovered by the humans. One set of Hylden were observing the reaction of different chemical agents in a complex apparatus made of glass. Others were dissecting the remains of some dead animal while a teacher pointed out various internal organs. Yet another group was gathered around a large diagram that looked like a map of Nosgoth, but extended far beyond its known borders.
Vorador, who had always valued knowledge of any kind, found much to approve of in this atmosphere of learning. Even Ajatar was observing the educational nature of this House with some interest.
The room Tiamatu led them to was a suspended, round chamber in the centre of the dome near the ceiling. It was high vaulted and very wide, almost cathedral-like, with its own compartments devoted to other sciences but with enough space to have clear central floor. The walls themselves were engraved with diagrams that even a layman could tell were complex displays denoting advanced concepts of mathematics.
Vorador had a start when he entered for he sighted, in the corner of the chamber, the form of one of the native denizens of the demon realm rearing up with its clawed hands out before it. When he looked more closely he saw that the demon was in fact quite dead, its body preserved and stuffed. He was standing on a pedestal with a brass plate beneath etched with markings that no doubt indentified its particular species.
“This is the actually the laboratory of my predecessor, Marduk.” Tiamatu remarked as they all entered, looking around at the place appraisingly. “He had it moved brick by brick from his first establishment in the ‘other place’.” She gestured off to one side, towards a set of etched carvings on the wall. “It was here that he began developing his method to speed the evolution of our own method of flight.”
Vorador looked and saw that the display showed the dissected anatomy of a Hylden, with their complex muscular and skeletal system revealed. The bony structures on the back of the species were highlighted and a great many notations had been added in around them. He did not understand the markings but from the image alone, he seemed to feel that the designer had been attempting to write down some sort of formula or equation.
He had seen the result of this work, when the Hylden Marduk had come to investigate his castle on the Island. The outcome had been a confrontation between Marduk, Raziel and himself on his own battlements.
“Unfortunately his method required sacrificing the strength and general well-being of the rest of his body.” Tiamatu carried on, turning away from the diagram. “I will not attempt to repeat his experiment until that can be remedied.”
She walked over to a level surface not quite like a table and lifted up a long branding pole with a faintly glowing blue Glyph that Vorador recognised as the instrument used to restore that Hylden back in the public square.
“But it was his research that gave us the method of restoration, undoing the damage caused by our imprisonment.”
Ajatar approached to study the instrument close up. Tiamatu did not object, perhaps because she had been permitted to examine the Grandmaster’s wings. She even handed the prod to the inquisitive Vampire. The Ancient examined the instrument close up, turning it over in both hands while her face creased in a frown.
“I did not think eons of exposure to that evil place could be undone so easily.” She commented, turning the prod over to look at the style of the blue Glyph. After a moment she looked up in her curiosity. “And for that matter, if you could affect such restoration why did you not do it inside the demon realm to maintain yourselves in your banishment?”
Tiamatu actually looked a tad offended by the question.
“By no means was it easy.” She said in a disgruntled tone. “It required a great deal of trial and error experimentation, just like any other fledgling science. Those who volunteered to test the procedure did not all survive.” Then she seemed to remember herself and settled down, displaying a rueful and apologetic smile. “And until we left that ‘other place’ we simply did not have the resources to affect the treatment at all.”
Ajatar handed her back the prod and she replaced it on the table.
“There was a reason our people chose to build our city here, over the ruins of Avernus.” The Seer began slowly and Tiamatu twitched, suddenly standing up quite straight. “Quite an important reason.”
“There was a Hylden stronghold here long before the humans ever built their own settlement on top of it.” The leader of the House of Knowledge put in very quickly as if she were trying to divert the course of that previous statement, looking back at the Seer. Vorador and Ajatar shot each other a discreet glance.
“But even that first city had a purpose in its location.” The Seer continued completely undeterred by the apparent reprimand and there was iron in her tone as she spoke. “There was something buried here that we needed. Something quite vital.”
There was a moment of silence as the two Hylden women stared each other down. While they might be political allies, it was apparent their views did not completely meld.
“Princess... the other Houses would not consent to you telling them about it.” Tiamatu said, clearly reluctant to speak of this in front of two strangers, let alone Vampires. “It is one of our most closely protected secrets.”
The Seer was steady in her adamant expression.
“That is my choice.” She said. “And it is important that they both see it.” Tiamatu’s eyes widened in surprise.
“I did not think you wanted them brought here to view the artefact.” She breathed in sudden awe at the Seer’s daring for such an intention.
“I would not ask you to reveal it if it were not necessary.” The Seer assured her.
“Reveal what?” Vorador asked flatly, his voice testy. Tiamatu glanced at him, her expression coloured by scepticism and then back to the Seer.

“They are both trained in the elemental Serioli techniques. They will sense what it can do immediately.” She mused quietly. The Seer nodded.
“Inevitably.” She said. “But it is a cardinal occurrence, Tiamatu.” Then she smiled sardonically. “Moreover, I do not believe we should horde the precious knowledge all to ourselves. That would be very bad form in the face of the new ceasefire.”
Tiamatu hesitated another moment, clearly caught in a flicker of indecision. Then she pressed her lips tightly together and turned, walking to the far side of the chamber. There she ran her finger over three ordinary-looking Glyphs and each one glowed green as she passed over it.
Then there was a deep groaning sound from directly below them and the floor beneath their feet heaved up, knocking the two Vampires suddenly off balance. Vorador steadied himself and quieted his alarm, seeing that the floor of the open space in the laboratory was beginning to part in the middle along a hidden seam. The space had been kept clear for quite a good reason.
Ajatar rose sharply up into the air, beating her wings frantically in that moment of alarm. Then she glided over to the edge of the moving platform and Vorador joined her there, the two of them turning as one to face the revealed compartment that had lain beneath.
As first Vorador did not understand what he was looking at, but when the light peered in through the widening crack more and more detail could be made out.
-0-
“And so we saw, stretched before us, a monstrous form; a mass of ancient bone. I knew of no creature in Nosgoth so large to have existed during my expanded lifetime.”
-0-
The colossal skeleton was laid out on its side, many of the joints disconnected and strapped in place by large metal bolts. Annotation Hylden Glyphs marked every bone, perhaps a note on the role it had played in the dead creature.
The remains were massive, even when laid out with all the pieces disjointed and separate. The tail alone had to be about twenty feet in length and the snake-like neck half of that. The rib cage was mammoth and looked big enough for him to stand upright inside. The bones of the four limbs were all over the place and were clearly missing a few, making it impossible to guess the original dimensions of the beast. There were also many other bones scattered around but Vorador could not guess as to their function.
The skull was elongated and swept back in a crest, almost like that of a Hylden but framed by a line of curving horns that angled out behind it. Its mouth lay opened, revealing large dagger shaped teeth clearly showing this creature had been carnivorous.
-0-
“But beyond these observations, the bones themselves seemed to resonate with the echoes of elemental mastery, shades of what had once been a control over the ancient Serioli style disciplines that was unparalleled.”
-0-
Within moments Vorador no longer cared about the creature’s physical appearance. The resonance he could sense from the bones was far more compelling. As a student of the Serioli techniques of elemental forgery, he knew the secret of harnessing fire, water, air and earth and directing them into shaping whatever tool he required.
But these bones rang like a bell in his mind, their presence causing even the principals that comprised the elements to vibrate. Nature and Conflict seemed to flicker in the depths of Fire. Mind and Dimension reacted and stirred the Air. The principles of Death and States swirled to churn Water. Time and Energy spun ethereally to vibrate the very Earth beneath them. These bones were doing all of this simply by their mere presence. The Vampire stood there staring at them in awe and confusion.
Ajatar-Cadre, beside him, slowly unfurled her wings and then protectively drew them about her shoulders. She, too, was enwrapped by the bones, sensing their awesome potential, and the motion might have been an unconscious gesture for reassurance. After a moment she took a hesitant step forward, then stopped, her wide golden eyes fixed on the gaping maw of the creature. Its mouth was big enough to have broken her in half with one snap.
“What manner of ‘artefact’ is this?” She turned, though not looking away from the spectacle, her gaze focused and unblinking.
Tiamatu, with a frown marring her face, shot the Seer a glance and then stepped forward.
“According to Marduk, when he was still with us, the ancient war with your kind was going badly for our kind.” She explained, her expression intense as she recalled the details. “We had received word of the intended summoning of a mighty magical weapon against us and we were desperately searching for a means of making a counterattack, or at the very least protecting ourselves.”
She turned to look at the strange bones. “These were uncovered in a cavern, far below the ground. We didn’t know what it was. In fact, we still don’t know. But whatever the nature of the animal it once was, the bones proved to be a powerful catalyst in creating great changes in ourselves.”
Vorador frowned and looked up at her, his expression questioning.
“This skeleton and its properties is what allowed the old scientist, Ambraxas, to create creatures we needed for the war, such as the powerful fungus monstrosity, the Mass in its Device.” She explained but he could tell there was more to it than that by her expression. He kept his gaze on her.
Tiamatu suddenly began to look very uncomfortable. Whatever else she was not saying clearly was something quite sensitive.
Vorador’s expression of firm demand did not change. Tiamatu tried seriously not to meet his gaze and avoid the expectant look.
Finally her shoulders slumped.
“It was from these bones that Shamash, Marduk and Ishtar drew the power to discharge the Curse of Agony upon your kind. The ‘Dark Gift’ as it became known to you.”
At this confession, Ajatar’s head quickly whipped up and her eyes were wide with stunned consternation.
“What?” She demanded in a harsh tone. Tiamatu looked very uncomfortable by now.
“These bones produce a catalyst affect that can alter living things, producing changes on some remarkable levels. The three of them siphoned off this ability to affect their contributions to the overall curse.”
She held up one hand with three fingers extended.
“Shamash gave you the blood thirst to ensure you would never be allies with humanity again.” She drew down one finger.
“Marduk gave you the vulnerability to both sunlight and water, to keep you bound to the land.” Another finger descended.
“And Ishtar, in the cruellest twist of all, gave your ancestors ‘immortality’ so they would be denied admittance to the Wheel they so loved.”
The final finger came down.