Kyliska rushed through the spire, passing panicked guards who were frantically scrambling to get into position. Her sword rattled loosely on her back, the peace-straps undone in the event that she'd need to draw it quickly. Although she hadn't had time to don her armor, she'd at least thought to snatch up the weapon in the chaos that had erupted higher within the structure.
As she dashed around a final bend and shoved her way through two of Biara's protesting apprentices, she clenched her teeth in frustration. Biara had suddenly and without warning ordered House Sunfire forces into security lock-down on the upper floors of the spire that Selenthiel had constructed for the sisters to use. Armed Sin'dorei patrolled the halls, looking suspiciously at everyone and there was a tension in the air. That Biara had not consulted Kyliska before issuing such an order only meant that she expected trouble, but she'd not taken the time to even mention what it might be to her sister.
Kyliska knew that there had been a recent attempt on Biara's life, and Braeth'el had told her privately that Biara was extremely angry, but she had only sparse details to work with and had other, very important missions that she was in the midst of planning. Assassination attempts were not uncommon but this one had apparently been different. While Braeth'el had warned that Biara had taken it personally, Kyliska had perhaps paid less heed than she should have to the situation.
She dashed down one final hallway, her green eyes quickly noting that a magical barrier had been erected at the end of the corridor that lead towards Astariel's rooms. The entire pathway in that direction was completely inaccessible, and grim-faced apprentices stood behind the barrier with drawn wands. Kyliska cataloged this fact in her head as she pushed open a closed door and burst into Biara's private quarters only to skid to a stop a moment later, a hand coming up to shield her eyes.
Biara stood in the center of her bed chamber, her hands in the air above her and magic flashing on her fingertips. Howling arcane energies spun around her, tearing at the fabric of space before her. Her voice droned on, chanting some incomprehensible words of magic as she worked at opening what appeared to be a portal in the middle of her room. As Kyliska watched, a hole started to form before the Magistrix. As soon as it had, purple crackling lightning flared around it, completely covering the hole and burning small divots in the marble floor of Biara's bedchambers. The hole began to collapse on itself, the magic sputtering out soon after. The howling arcane energies subsided, a gust of wind briefly scattering papers and fluttering the drapes of the windows as well as the hem of Biara's dress as her hands fell to her side.
"Biara! What are you doing?! Why did you lock down the spire?" Kyliska practically shouted. "I'm sorry I haven't been able to meet with you to discuss things but you need to talk to me before you do...whatever it is you're doing!"
Biara shot her sister a look that contained a sea of seething wrath in it, although she could tell it was directed elsewhere. Her voice was flat with repressed rage when she responded, "It is a family affair and something that has long since been overdue. Things cannot stand the way they are now, even if it means my life. I cannot involve you in this and I ask you to step back so that you aren't injured."
"Step back...?" Kyliska began. Even as she started to speak, Biara's hands came up again, magical energies directed at the door of her closet. The portal burst open, the door having been yanked by arcane forces. Clothes practically spewed out, dresses, shoes, slips, and nightgowns scattering everywhere. Biara's hands gestured in a dragging motion towards her, and the sound of something heavy sliding within the closet could be heard right before a heavy wooden trunk slid out into the center of the room, skidding to a halt at Biara's feet. Kyliska blinked in surprise, her eyes wide; Biara almost never used her magic to perform menial tasks like moving furniture. Her spells were almost always reserved for battle, protection, or research and her behavior was completely out of character. "A-are you alright? W-what's going on? You can't just leave me in the dark...."
Biara shot her sister another glance and then stalked across her room to her nightstand. She swept a blade up in her hand, the weapon igniting with fire as the spellblade activated, "I am not alright, and will never be alright until the past is put to rest once and for all. They tried to take my life, my daughter's life. This ends. Now. Go back to Braeth'el and to managing the House. There are some things that I must do alone."
"Biara, wait...." Kyliska began, but her sister would have none of it. Biara stalked back across the room, her heels pounding loudly on the stone as she brought the spellblade up. In one sweeping motion the weapon came down, sheering off the top of the trunk and sending burning bits of paper scattering across the room. Biara tossed the spellblade down and reached into the trunk, picking up an old and dusty box from within it. She opened it, taking an object from it before casting the box on the floor. To Kyliska's horror, she saw an inscription on the box as she glanced down at it and then back up at her sister.
Selun'athiel Dawnslight
"Biara! Wait! We need to talk about this, to plan whatever it is you mean to do!" Kyliska shouted.
Biara ignored Kyliska for a moment, holding the object she'd taken from the box up. It was a golden ring, the band inscribed with runes and the seal of House Dawnslight. Kyliska knew without a doubt it had belonged to Biara's mother long ago. "The time for waiting, for planning is over. If they will deny entry to a Magistrix of Silvermoon, then I will tear my way into their fortress by whatever means necessary," Biara replied as she slipped the ring on her finger.
Biara's hands came up, magic sparking around her as she began her spell again. Howling winds circled the room, scattering the clothing and ruined papers from within the trunk. Kyliska took a step back, watching with wide eyes as Biara stood in the center of a maelstrom of power, her red hair dancing like snakes and her dress fluttering around her body. Biara's hands rose above her head, her voice practically shouting the words to her spell now, the hole tearing in space before her once more. Again purple lightning began to crackle before the Magistrix in what Kyliska realized were wards designed to stop someone from opening a portal to wherever Biara was going. This time though, Biara was prepared, her hand coming out, the ring presented seal-first towards the portal. When Biara spoke, Kyliska felt her blood run cold.
"I, Biara'thiel Dayfire, daughter of Selun'athiel Dayfire of House Dawnslight, demand entry. Let no ward bar the heir of her blood, by her seal and bond."
The purple energies crackled again, slamming into the ring on Biara's finger before being absorbed by the talisman. Instantly the portal tore open, the raging wards breaking apart as Biara used Selun'athiel's own seal to break into what Kyliska knew could only be her mother's ancestral home. Darkness loomed through the portal and Biara bent down, sweeping up her spellblade. She shot Kyliska one last, long look before she stepped into the portal and the raging magic swallowed her.
An instant later the room fell silent, burnt papers fluttering to the ground as the winds died down, leaving Kyliska alone to wonder if she had just lost her sister for good.
***********************************************
The throne room of House Dawnslight crackled as raging magic tore open a hole in space and time within the center of the room. On his throne, the decrepit Lord of the House blinked in surprise, watching as the portal solidified into a perfect oval and then disgorged a flame-haired Sin'dorei whose eyes blazed with the anger of decades. As he sat up in his seat and his courtesans cowered behind the marble throne, the newly arrived Magistrix brought her spellblade up, power surging as flames danced along its edge. Throughout the spire, the clatter of warning spells could be heard as discordant bells, warning the occupants that the wards of the structure had been forcibly breached by unknown assailants.
The chandeliers and magical lights within the throne room burst into flaming light, the brightness driving away shadows that had lingered within the hall for decades. As the Lord of the House blinked at the sudden brightness, Biara turned, a hand coming out and freezing cold energies shooting from her fingertips, bathing the double doors to the room with ice and sealing them shut. Pounding could be heard from without as guards attempted to forced their way through a barrier that was now firmly sealed for several hours, leaving the Lord alone with a very angry Magistrix.
Biara brought her sword up again, pointing it at the throne's occupant, her voice ringing loudly throughout the room, "Lord Tyvanis Dawnslight, Lord of House Dawnslight and all of its holdings, I hereby order your arrest. By my authority as a Magistrix of Quel'Thalas, I charge you with attempted murder of a public figure, attempted murder of a child, intent to cause damage to the properties of the Magistrate, and disturbance of the peace. You are ordered to surrender and by the Sunwell I very much hope that you choose to resist because I would like nothing more than to burn you alive where you sit."
For a moment, the room fell silent as its occupants took in the declaration. After a moment, a smile crept across the ancient face of Tyvanis Dawnslight. His voice was a hoarse croak as he spoke, the sound like sand on stones, "Granddaughter, you have come at last. Long have I awaited this moment."
Biara stiffened, the blade in her hand flickering with flames, "You will address me as the Magistrix Biara Dayfire. Descend from your throne that I may drag you before the Magistrate or die where you sit."
Lord Tyvanis's grin widened, and he let out a hacking laugh that turned into a cough. It took several moments for him to recover and once he did, he very slowly began to rise from his seat, his arms trembling as he pushed himself up and began to descend the stone steps of the dais one by one. He spoke as he walked, eyeing Biara over critically, "It is rare to see such boldness. You come here, alone and without support. You have breached wards which have stood for thousands of years, wards which even Scourge attackers could not penetrate fully. You have survived where others would tear you down. I am impressed, Granddaughter."
Biara glared at the old Sin'dorei as he moved slowly down to the floor before her, "I do not care how you feel. I am not here to connect with you or to mend the decades of distance between us. At long last I have reason to take you down, to claim some small piece of vengeance for what you did. You killed my father, and now you will pay for what you have tried to do to me. So speak not of your feelings, wretch. This is over."
Lord Tyvanis laughed again, beginning to slowly shuffle across the room. Biara kept her gaze firmly on him, her weapon leveled at him at all times, "You come alone, but do you come prepared? Do you believe that my throne room is so easily breached?"
Biara tilted her head, her eyes closing as she instantly came on guard. She sensed magic around her that she'd not noticed in her anger. With a grim smile she shouted a word, her power directed at a gem on the old elf's throne. A spell was stolen, and instantly Biara faded into invisibility, a second spell leaving three illusionary copies of herself behind. As the invisibility claimed Biara, it faded from the three mages that the old Lord had kept hidden. They looked surprised as they were unmasked, their half finished spells flaring to life and flashing across at where Biara stood. The only problem was, they were now aiming at illusions instead of the real thing, and their bolts of icy magic passed through the copies harmlessly while not so harmlessly striking their fellow casters. In an instant there were three loud thuds followed by the clatter of three senseless mages falling to the marble floor.
A moment later Biara reappeared, her blade again leveled at the old lord, "I will add a charge of resisting arrest to the list, Lord Dawnslight. Surrender now before you try my patience any further."
Lord Tyvanis shuffled over to a small column that was set in the floor beside his throne. It rose to waist height, and a column of light shone down upon it from one of the newly illuminated chandeliers. Biara watched the old elf cautiously as he leaned on it, seemingly innocuous papers strewn atop it's smooth surface. He looked at Biara, studying her again, "Proud, smart, strong, beautiful like your mother. It is no wonder you have come so far. You come from good stock, from my blood, so it only stands to reason."
Biara's chin tilted up and she glared at the old lord, offended beyond reason at being sized up like prize livestock, "I am nothing like you. I am the daughter of Tel'athar, and I understand the concept of honor. There is none to be found here, and if you do not comply with my order immediately I will cut you down where you stand. I have waited years for this moment."
"Ah, Tel'athar," Lord Tyvanis began. "There were mistakes made in the past. The handling of Tel'athar was not the only one. A life cannot be entirely perfect, no matter how hard one strives. I regret that I could not come to some agreement with Tel'athar, but he stood in the way of the progress of this House. That is neither here nor there though, for you did not come here about the past, but about the present, isn't that right, Granddaughter?"
"Yes, you attempted to have me killed, and in your failure have finally given me leeway to seek your head," Biara said coldly. "You should have tried harder, not that you would have succeeded."
Lord Tyvanis laughed again, his hacking cough echoing through the room, "T'wasn't me that did the deed, Granddaughter, but it was not entirely unexpected. Your relatives seek favor in my eyes, seek a place within the hierarchy here. They seek the wealth and power of this place, of this throne. Power they shall never have because they are not fit to hold it."
"You lie," Biara responded flatly.
"Truth is a malleable thing, fit to tell the tale one wants to tell," Lord Tyvanis replied. "You should know this lesson better than anyone as a Magistrix. The name of the perpetrator means little at the moment, for it is you that are the important thing here. You have proven yourself to be quite capable; far more capable than I'd ever imagined. Far braver, bolder, more skilled with magic than those within this spire, for you breached their every defense."
"Enough!" Biara shouted, beginning to stalk towards the old lord. "Your words mean nothing! This ends right now. You are coming with me, through a portal, to face justice for what you've done or for what you've allowed to go on within your house!"
Lord Tyvanis grinned, his decrepit old hand darting forward and taking up a feathered quill before him. Before Biara could reach him, the implement had come down onto the papers on the stone pillar, ink magically applied to the document. Biara paused as power flared, the papers rising before the old lord and seemingly doubling and then tripling before her eyes. Warily she watched as two rolled themselves up and popped out of existence, the third flying towards her and landing at her feet. "What is the meaning of this?"
"Pick it up, Granddaughter. You are a Magistrix so you know there is no trick here," Lord Tyvanis replied.
Hesitantly, Biara bent down, her eyes never leaving the lord as her free hand clasped the parchment. It was free of magic, and she quickly snatched it up before leveling her sword at him again. With a flick of her wrist she unrolled the document, seeing endless lines of legal text in Thalassian appearing before her. She quickly began to scan the paper, her eyes widening in horror as she read.
Lord Tyvanis grinned, his voice soft as he mockingly intoned what Biara was reading on the parchment, "I, Lord Tyvanis Dawnslight, lord of House Dawnslight for these centuries past, being of sound mind if not body, do hereby declare that my legal heir and inheritor shall be the Magistrix Biara Dayfire, daughter of Tel'athar Dayfire and Selun'athiel Dawnslight, blood of my blood."
The parchment fell from nerveless fingers, fluttering to the marble floor as Biara stared at Lord Tyvanis in disbelief, "You....you've named me your heir....but...I don't understand. I hate you. I want no part of you or your House."
"Your feelings matter not a bit to me, Granddaughter," Lord Tyvanis snapped, his eyes flaring with anger. "I have spent centuries building up this House, my legacy. I have fought in wars, bled for the people of these lands. There was a time when I could almost reach the throne itself, when Kings held court here. All of this, all of it, will go to waste if an heir claims my properties that is unfit. If one of the sniveling, pompous, incompetent blood heirs of this House gain my position, it will all go to waste and I will not have that."
"I will never rule House Dawnslight in your place. Never!" Biara shouted back in his face. Her blade came up, level with him once more. "I would see it all burned to ash before I do that."
Lord Tyvanis chuckled, the sound mocking, "Oh really? You would let a massive pile of resources that could benefit the Sin'dorei go to waste? You would throw away all of the magical artifacts, all of the apprentices and research we've done here? I know more of you than you think, Granddaughter. There are innocent Sin'dorei lives that work for and serve this House that know nothing of intrigue or plots. They work and get their coin and food and live their simple lives in the muck beneath us. You would crush all of their hopes? Shatter their livelihoods and throw them to the wolves simply because you hate me? Please, you will do nothing of the sort."
"Then I will cut you down where you stand and another will inherit!" Biara nearly shrieked.
"This document has already been filed with the Magistrate. If you touch me, if anything happens to me, you will instantly inherit my title," Lord Tyvanis said, his tone slightly more gentle now. "The fact that you are fighting this means that I have made the right choice actually. Not that you had not already proven that with your entry here. You are my heir, and will have to come to terms with that fact. Jail me, slay me, and you inherit. Walk away and one of the snakes that slithers these corridors will strike at you just in case. Name another and they will still need to eliminate you, lest you change your mind and claim your legal rights. You have no recourse, Granddaughter. Your fate is sealed."
Biara shuddered, rage flowing through her like fire. Her grandfather's words rang true however; everything he said would come to pass if she struck at him now. She would need to undo what he'd done first, despite her seething hatred and personal interest in taking vengeance on the one who she knew had had her father killed all those years before. To one who may have just tried to have her killed for some twisted test of her worthiness. She clamped down on her anger, controlling it tightly lest she strike the old elf down in a fit of rage. When she spoke again, her voice was as cold as ice, "There is one thing you are forgetting, Grandfather."
"And what is that, my heir?" Lord Tyvanis said with a mocking grin.
Biara slipped around the column, her free hand coming out and grasping his wrist. Pain the likes of which he'd not felt in decades traveled up his arms as flames seemed to dance from her fingertips. It felt like he was being burned alive, and yet the fires did not blacken and curl the skin. Biara leaned close, her face inches from his, her voice a promising whisper, "You don't have to die to be made to pay. Our time is limited for now as I need to consider what it is you've done, but pray that a time doesn't come when I have more time to...discuss matters with you."
She released his arm and he gasped in pain as she shoved him away. He stumbled, falling to the marble and wheezing as he tried to catch his breath, staring up in shock at the raging Magistrix. She looked down at him as one might stare at an insect, all compassion fled from her eyes, "I will return, and when I do, you will beg for death before the end. Farewell for now, Grandfather. This is not over."
With that she whirled, storming away from the fallen Lord Tyvanis, her voice barking out words of magic as she tore a second hole in space before her. A moment later she was gone, leaving the wheezing old lord and his cowering courtesans alone in the throne room.
As he watched the shimmering magic in the air fade from where Biara had left, Lord Tyvanis grinned, his voice a whisper to no one.
"A perfect choice."
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