The invitation
The manor looming on the other side of the gates was everything but welcoming. It was grand, Fredegar could certainly not deny that, but the columns, the tall empty windows, those strange statues that had started appearing at the beginning of the paved road, and the entire colour scheme was giving the place an ominous feel. Almost lifeless. That thought did not improve the already unhappy drenched messenger's mood. Not that the weather was helping the situation much, it was never really summer so far into the northern mountains. How people could live in this gloomy wet grey place for generations was beyond Fredegar's understanding. Then again, silver and black were both part of the Blackwood family crest, maybe the ever colourless rocks represented that.
Fredegar slowed his horse at the stone archway. The gates were left open, the family had probably already heard about the royal messenger in their lands, news like this usually travelled fast no matter the scarceness of the population. Now that he was closer Fredegar could see the runes carved into the dark stone of the arch. They used to glow just a few years ago, Fredegar had heard those stories. Now they looked like any other lines in stone - old, tired. The war had taken quite a toll on all magic, really, it seemed even the most remote sorcerers hadn't been spared this time. Even the pouring rain did not deter Fredegar from sparing a few extra moments just to admire the structure before him.
It was quite a joyless sight but definitely captivating. There were at least three floors from what Fredegar could see. The walls were made from some kind of black bricks, some of them, like the gates, had faint runes etched onto them, the intricacies having long lost their colour. Those dark windows practically blended into the rest of the wall but Fredegar could make out some swirly patterns in the window frames. They would have been quite beautiful were the lights lit inside. The main entrance, a pair of tall dark double doors, was framed by four columns that supported a small balcony. The view from there, if a bit too grey for Fredegar's taste, was probably spectacular. Even now when the messenger glanced back over his shoulder he could see the mountains stretching over the horizon, and he was pretty sure there was a lake down there somewhere, most likely visible just above the treetops.
Fredegar was awakened from his fantasy when a particularly annoying raindrop fell right into his eye. It was still pouring. The man finally got off his horse. There didn't seem to be any staff around, which would have been strange in any other noble household but the Blackwoods weren't exactly in the best of circumstances right now. Fredegar had been the only one of the royal messengers to even agree to this job because the pay was good, and he was now seeing why no one else had wanted the task. He was almost starting to feel a bit nervous walking up to the front door, he had never delivered a message to a place dead as this manor seemed to be. The messenger checked his bag once more when he was finally out of the rain, the letter was still there, thankfully undamaged. Finally, he took a deep breath and raised his hand to knock on the door.
All it took was one soft knock for one of the doors to swing open. Fredegar just blinked at the elderly man on the other side of the door, caught slightly off guard by the swift response. Obviously the man had been waiting for him. Finally, the messenger gave a small formal bow as a greeting. "I apologise for the late interruption, sir, but I come bearing a royal letter for Lord Blackwood," Fredegar said, straightening again. "It is a rather urgent matter."
The man in front of Fredegar was obviously some version of a butler. He was tall. Very tall, at least a head taller than Fredegar and the messenger himself was already amongst the taller parts of society. The uniform this gentleman was wearing was a long black cloak with small silver embroideries here and there and a silver button with what looked like the Blackwood crest. Had Fredegar looked closer he would have seen the tiny constellations all over his shoulders made from silver thread so thin it was barely visible alone. Even the butler's hair seemed to match the colour scheme of the place, a grey so light it was practically white. Fredegar could see the man look him over a bit sceptically but he stepped to the side after a couple of seconds, inviting the visitor inside. Oh did Fredegar not like those strange grey eyes. They were somehow too aware of everything.
"Lord Blackwood is in his study. You may follow me, we will arrange for someone to take your horse to the stables," the butler replied, gesturing for the messenger to come inside. All formalities in this house it seemed, not like any of the southern families Fredegar had visited in his few working years. The door closed quietly behind him and the butler was already walking towards one of the many doors leading out of the vestibule. Fredegar had no choice but to follow.
The inside of the house was, well, less dreadful than what Fredegar had imaged it would be. The floors were all covered in a very nice dark blue carpet, which he was now messing up with the wet and dirty shoes no doubt, the halls were quite spacious but not too open to feel uncomfortable. Fredegar could see some dark rooms through a few open doorways. The light from outside was doing little to illuminate the space but from what the messenger could gather they were quite tastefully furnished. There were painting lining the dark wood walls, most of them depicting people, previous members of the Blackwood family if the silver name plates below were anything to go by. And they all looked rather similar too. The same serious expression and blue eyes staring right into one's soul were a clear sign of family ties if Fredegar has ever seen one. There were also lights along the walls. Not candles but these strange bubbles of light in niches of the walls. They were powered by some sorcery no doubt, the tales about this house being filled to the brim with magic couldn't all be lies.
A few more newer-looking paintings later the butler stopped in front of a door. Fredegar could hear voices on the other side but they weren't loud enough to make out. They stopped when the butler knocked lightly on the door. "It's open, Engelbert," came a slightly louder response from inside and the butler wasted no time in opening the door to a room far more home-like than any of the others Fredegar had seen here.
The first thing Fredegar noticed was the fire. The entire room was bathed in a warm orange light coming from the fireplace making it instantly more lively than the rest of the dark and empty house. The room itself seemed rather cozy too. It was smaller than most studies he'd seen, or maybe there was simply more furniture here. The greyish theme still remained but the warm light balanced it out somewhat. So did the many colourful books on the shelves covering the walls. The sound of the rain hitting the window just added to the ambience. On one side of the room there was a large wooden desk with some writing materials and a couple of open books, on the other side was the fireplace with a coffee table and a few comfortable looking armchairs around it.
That's where Fredegar finally saw the man he supposed to be Lord Dorian Blackwood. He was sitting in the blue armchair, leaning forward and looking over a chessboard. The man was dressed in what Fredegar supposed was considered casual lord attire. A simple but expensive looking black coat with silver buttons and strange symbols embroidered onto the sleeves and bottom of the coat. They probably served a greater purpose than simple decorations, the Blackwood family were from a line of shadow mages after all. Which Fredegar was very unfortunately reminded of by the unnatural strands of darkness clinging to Lord Blackwood's gloved fingers. Any magic that resembled night magic did not spark much trust these days, even if Fredegar, thankfully, hadn't been one of the unfortunate victims of the war. The shadows made the messenger pause for a moment, remembering again how no one else had wanted to even come near this place, not even after being given an order from the king himself.
Then the second person in the room caught his attention. There was a young woman sitting on the floor with her back to the door. She was leaning against the coffee table, also focused on the game of chess. Fredegar could see the dark blue skirt of her dress forming a circle on the floor around her, and the long curly golden hair cascading down her back but not much more. The dress looked like something no ordinary servant would wear though, so the assumption that she was a lady was most likely correct. Lord Blackwood made a move on the board and then turned to look at the newcomers.
"A messenger from the capital, my lord," the butler introduced Fredegar with a simple wave of the hand. The girl on the ground turned around at the mention of the capital and Lord Blackwood straightened. She looked around Fredegar's age, just much prettier. Fredegar had strange ears, and he was currently dripping from the rain. Still right onto that expensive looking carpet. She was definitely not the lord's wife. Fredegar gave a small bow again as he entered the room and focused his attention on the man in the armchair. He had the same piercing blue eyes as all those painting in the hall, they made him look a little mad, in Fredegar's humble opinion. That did not quell his nerves one bit, not with the shadows darkening slightly around the room at the word capital. Or maybe it was just Fredegar's imagination.
Fredegar swallowed as he pulled the letter out of his bag. There was the king's seal on it, wax in a beautiful shade of blue and white. "An urgent letter from the king, Lord Blackwood," Fredegar said, handing the sealed parchment to the man in the armchair. He wanted to add that he needed to deliver the reply as soon as possible too but it was like the words got stuck in his throat while passing the letter into those shadowy hands. He looked away from the lord in front of him as soon as he was able to step back. The chess game was much more interesting, definitely. Or maybe it was the far friendlier looking now concerned lady on the floor. She had the same eyes as Lord Blackwood, Fledegar noted, so she could be his daughter. That would explain the age difference. Only their hair was drastically dissimilar, but the expressions on both of their faces pretty much mirrored one another. It was quite obvious the young woman wanted to read the letter too, and probably would have done so were there no other people in the room. But she was already sitting on the floor, courtesy didn't seem all that important to her now, or she simply was not expecting visitors. If she was Lord Blackwood's child, she looked far more approachable than he did. At least there weren't shadows coiling around her hands like snakes.
Lord Blackwood had already broken the seal and skimmed through the letter by the time Fredegar managed to assess the situation with the lady. He handed the letter to her then, so she really was that important, and turned back to Fredegar. "Thank you..." Lord Blackwood started, giving Fredegar a questioning look with those strangely bright eyes. "Fredegar, my lord," the messenger quickly filled in. Most lords didn't ask for names. "Thank you, Fredegar. I assume you'll want a reply by morning?"
The question implied spending the night here. It's not like Fredegar could go down a narrow mountain path in the middle of the night on horseback, but the thought of staying in this house was not something he wanted to consider too much. But what could a simple messenger do in this situation? He certainly did not wish to get on the bad side of a shadow mage and a wealthy, powerful man. "Yes, that would be greatly appreciated, my lord. Our king does not like to wait." The words were the same ones he'd repeated countless times. Practically a guidebook worthy answer, especially in a situation like this one. Fredegar was starting to feel the cold seeping into his bones. The room was warm from the fire but soaked clothes did not seem to let that warmth through easily.
Fredegar glanced at the letter the girl was reading at an angle oh so convenient. He glimpsed the word duty, something about restoring order, a couple of times mentioning Lord Blackwood's name. A letter this important would definitely be an interesting read, but the shadow mage in front of him seemed to have caught on before Fredegar could get too much out of the neatly written text. "Engelbert, would you please show our visitor to one of the guest rooms? Make sure he gets a change of clothes and a warm meal. A bath too, if he so desires," Dorian Blackwood said to the butler, Engelbert as Fredegar had already figured. That left little room for arguments from the messenger.
The grey-haired man gave a simple polite bow. "At once, my lord. Right this way, sir." was all the warning Fredegar got as the butler walked out of the study again. That man was fast for someone of his age. How did old people even have that much energy? Fredegar glanced at the two people in the room one last time, the lady still focused on the letter in her hands and her father watching with those very blue eyes. "You are most generous, Lord Blackwood," the messenger bowed one last time before following the butler who had been patiently waiting by the door.
As soon as the door closed Fredegar heard the girl's voice, louder than it had been before. "You cannot seriously be considering this. They banished you." She sounded quite baffled. "It's not that simple, Zoya. You know it's not." There were faint footsteps in the room, a strange sound that ended as fast as it had appeared, and then everything went quiet.
The butler clearing his throat made Fredegar finally turn around. The man was standing a few steps away, an eyebrow raised dramatically high. "Please follow me. It is quite easy to get lost in these halls without a guide," he repeated and then turned around again. That man was swift. No sirs this time either. Fredegar had just tried to listen in on his lords conversation, the messenger could forgive the coldness. Still, that sounded more like a real warning than a simple hastening. The shadows in this house did still look somewhat unseemly, especially after meeting the mage of the house himself. Maybe he could watch people from the dark corners, or listen to them at the very least. Fredegar would not be very surprised at this point.
This time, the butler led Fredegar up a flight of stairs, took a few rather unobvious turns and finally ended up in front of a dark wood door in a hallway that looked just like the rest of them. There were the same strange paintings, some of these ones of landscapes and the house, not just people, there were those same unusual lights. The butler left Fredegar alone inside the room.
It was a rather simple one, with a bed, a small table, a bathroom and a fireplace. The fire was already lit, and there was a tray of food already sitting on top of it, almost to keep it warm. Hadn't Lord Blackwood just given that order? There were also new clothes on the bed, and these was steam coming from the bathroom. Warming up water took ages, and to just keep it there like that would certainly be a waste. Maybe this was the house's magic. Fredegar did not want to believe his food and warmth was made with shadow magic. Surely these people had been waiting for him, they must have been. The lord would not be awake and receiving visitors this late otherwise. But maybe shadow magic required darkness to recharge. Maybe this was just a family of undead creatures of the night with those strange blue eyes of theirs. Fredegar would bet his left eyeball that they were sensitive to light, oh definitely. Staying in these wet clothes, however, was an even worse alternative.
So Fredegar took the fresh set, magic or not, walked over to the bathroom after making sure the food was not about to get cold anytime soon, and started his nightly routine. What was a messenger to do but enjoy the luxuries of life once in a while, especially when some strange lord payed for them. Maybe he wouldn't get sacrificed for some strange ritual tonight, and if he does at least he spent his last moments comfortably. That letter was not about to leave his troubled mind anytime soon though, oh how annoying curiosity could be.