Chapter Ten : A forlon melody to foes

It was midday, yet the dark cloud made it look like midnight.

He stood in front of one of many tombs holding a paper flower in his right hand. He crashed it between his finger into a distorted ball before he addressed the man in front of him: “Thank you for following me.”

The big man who was stationed a few steps away crossed his arms and asked: “What is the meaning of this?”

The cold air has blown the scattered leaves in sequential circles, and with it, a consecutive vibration of words came out from the man who held the paper flower: “Shall we introduce ourselves, first.”

The Aractanthrope approached his speaker, eyes narrowed. He clenched his fist, making his blood vessels protrude over his skin. He hated Lycanths; he hated lone Lycanth more and never believed in their words. Most of them were racist, arrogant bastards. And this one standing in front of him proved his perspective.

He screamed: “What do you want?”

The moment he witnessed the golden eyes with the vertical shaped pupils, He grasped he was in the company of a Lycanthrope that didn’t bother to hide his identity. And this conduct puzzled him.

Preparing to push him away, using his full force in anticipation of an upcoming attack. Yet the Lycanthrope didn’t show any signs of aggressiveness or strife. He just walked some steps away, conserving the safe distance between them before he said:

“Don’t rush alone. Amarok doesn’t have a chance in front of a Kerit. Let us talk first.”

The big man was still in position for an attack, and even though the Lycanthrope was right, there was no proof that this Lycanth was alone. He was wondering how this Lycanth entered the village despite the protective defense that surrounded it. That mongrel must have discovered a method to temper with village defenses. But what he is doing with a Lycanthrope?

“What a Lycanthrope doing with a mongrel?”

“Ah… Do you mean the doctor?… it happened that I am one of his patients.”

After this ambiguous answer, the Lycanthrope raised his hands in the air to present his peaceful intent and started reducing the distance slowly: “rather saying, I am just one of his victims, he is not what he appears to be”.

The Aractanthrope didn’t seem pleased by this move. His fangs appeared from the end of his fingers, and his canines begin to grow more visible.

To ease the situation, the Lycanth tried to persuade the agitated predator: “If I didn’t show myself, you have never learned about my existence…”

The Aractanthrope didn’t look very convinced, but he didn’t make any move, thus the Lycanth took the opportunity and continued: “Let us talk first… you can call me Uriah…”

The Lycanthrope introduced himself to make the air between them a little bit warmer. And it seemed that he succeeded to some degree. The grimaces on the big man’s face have softened slightly, and the tension in his muscles lowered before he started to curse: “That damn mongrel, he was hiding a Lycanth all this time!”

“Ah… you mean the doctor!… yes, he even made you hunt for me,” Uriah confirmed and attempted to rub the salt on the wound.

The Aractanthrope snarls begin again, but this time they were more violent…

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After he blurted the last sentence and from the big man’s response, Uriah thought that it was better if he left this fact for a later, when its effect won’t be directed at him. He had always troubled to choose the right time for the right words, and now the little progress that he succeeded in forming with his natural hater was disturbed. After all, Aractanthropes didn’t tolerate Lycanthropes by nature design and vice versa. However, this was a special circumstance, and Uriah must overcome this chasm.

The large man was breathing heavily with rage. Frankly displaying his displeasure. He was very confident in the difference between their muscle mass. Yet his opponent didn’t show a sign for a defense, he only shouted: “I am on your side, fighting each other is what that man’s desire.”

***

The knock on the door didn’t stop regardless of the number of times the Count resolved to ignore it. He raised his head from a load of papers and answered, annoyed: “You can enter…”

Seaben stood near the desk and said in his usual Stoic voice: “Sir? There is something important I need to report to you immediately.”

Francis’s eyes narrowed. He completely understood his butler and know exactly what this important matter was about Hendrickson.

“How about the more important matter I have asked you to check in.” The count responded while he still was looking at the papers in his hands. And When he did not hear his servant’s voice. He observed him from the angle of his eyes, then said: “What is it?”

“Thank you, sir. I have noticed lately strange and suspicious activities from the side of your guest, Mr. Hendrickson…”

The ringing sound of this name made the Count raise his head towards the butler and observe him intensely, with wide eyes looming over the void as if he was in a moment where he finally connected all the dots. Then he snapped suddenly to reality to find his butler looking lost on him.

The Count said simultaneously while he used his hand to indicate the forwarding sign: “Continue….”

The butler seemed unsure about the well-being of his master, but he continued anyway: “He isn’t making the move personally rather, he is using his manservant to accomplish his unknown desires. He even arranged a meeting with the new resident.” He paused, then continued: “Behind your back.’

The count returned to the papers in front of him, and then he lifted one from the set and bring it to the edge of his desk for his butler to see what was written in it.

Seaben panicked, scanning the letter without reading it, not understanding the meaning behind this movement. The count screamed at him: “Read!… Can’t you read? It’s Aramaic?”

“Yes, sir!…” The butler tilted his head and tried to decipher the words that were written on the paper. After a silent moment, the count snapped…. His white canine never looked longer or brighter. Then he said: “Do you understand the meaning of this?, How did this escape your watch, unless you aren’t doing your work. “

Seaben only deduced that this was a warning notice

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“I seized this village for months now. Why do you think I am getting this message at this moment?… Or do you also think that this is what Nicolai doing…? If so, then you have failed the sole important responsibility I have assigned to you.”

Seaben stayed silent.

“Any news about the Aractanthrope? Do you think he is the one who sent the threatening letter? Or should we go and ask Hendrickson?” The count asked. From the tone of his voice, the question wasn’t directed to his butler, it was just his habit of thinking loudly.

He hurled the paper after he tore it into pieces, then he smacked the desk with his hands while standing. He gave Seaben a serious look and a nod that meant to follow him.

With fast-paced steps, the two of them walked across the corridor. The count took the lead and his butler followed behind. They ascended the stairs in inpatient angry motion before the count stopped suddenly to the sound of music.

Afterward, he drew slowly near the source to find himself at the back of the door of the study room, where the sound of the music came from. He was shocked when he saw the player.

Both of them were shocked. When they saw Nicolai playing the grand piano.

The count didn’t move for a moment either, his butler. The song played… Until Mr. Hendrickson was alerted by their presence.

The count walked close to him, fixing his sight on his face, and he raged in a calm voice: “It’s been so long since I heard you playing.”

Nicolai watched as the Count’s eyes color turned redder and redder and his iris were getting darker.

“Celebration?…” The Count inquired, forcing a smile on his lips.

“Can I learn the reason that stirred your displeasure?” Nicolai asked, not shifting his face to avoid those piercing sights.

The count extended his right hand towards his butler, who was holding a patched piece of paper demanding to hand it. Then he said: “Can I understand the meaning of this?”

Nicolai sighed in boredom, then he took the paper to read it before he commented: “A threatening letter!”

“Wah, I am illiterate, so I couldn’t read it.”

Nicolai didn’t pay attention to the Count’s sarcastic tone. He rather observed his angry face, and he asked: “Do you think it’s me?”

“Who is it then?”

An ironic laugh escaped Nicolai’s throat. He used his hand to conceal it because he couldn’t stop by himself. He knew Francis was asking about his opinion but played it as if he was accusing him of pleasing the Chimera behind.

He thought a little, then he said: “This village is in the Crocotta hunting territory. Probably the barrier protected it, but they obviously sensed something wrong and are testing the water.”

The count suspected that Nicolai knew more than he stated, and he confirmed his butler was ignorant of the world outside.

He watched Nicolai return to his seat and stay silent for a few moments before he asked: “So this village originally belongs to the Crocotta clan?”

Nicolai was more immersed in adjusting the tone of keys of the piano. He wanted to play another song. However, when his eyes met the count, he felt the arrows of accusation directed at him. And despite that he didn’t feel the need to explain himself, he declared anyway: “Believe me, your lordship, whether you are planning to kill me now or you have regretted not killing me earlier, the outcome will be the same. The Crocotta clan will never give up this village and I swear to you, I have no hand in this matter though I may be predicted this outcome.”

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