Guul'Zaroth Ch.31 - Knowledge

I

In Orlov's personal wash chamber, Rolf pulled taught a thread and finished sewing up the last of his fresh new wounds. Normally, Laurelei sutured his flesh after a battle, but she was preoccupied of late. His own work was shoddy at best and stood out in stark contrast when compared to fine needlework along the rest of his body.

His normal attire was still drying after he'd finished scrubbing away the blood, and he stood in his underclothes. He stared at the litany of gashes, gouges and cuts along his body. Rolf was no stranger to scars earlier in life, but the number had tripled, easily, since meeting Laurelei. Most prominently, he bore a long, stitched line across his throat which he traced carefully with his fingertips. The old familiar mark on his jaw from boyhood and the last farewell on his cheek from his battles with Edwin seemed so small in comparison to his new wounds.

It bordered on gruesome, how many stitch marks and deep scars marred his body. Many of them would have almost certainly been lethal to a mortal man.

As he stepped back into the library, Rolf pulled on the tattered rags that remained of his Wolfsguard coat. He'd hoped it would look better after the blood was washed out, but so much of the fabric was shredded into useless strips that he doubted it could be fixed without nearly tailoring a whole new coat from what remained. The entire left side dangled from his body, no sleeve for him to even put his arm through and so he simply belted it taught around his waist and moved on.

Once back in the library, he immediately noticed Laurelei, fast asleep at her desk. As much as she'd wished to begin studying immediately after that door closed, there was scarce time left in the evening. The sun would rise soon and although this room was sealed from the morning light, her body was still accustomed to sleep during the morning hours. Unfortunately, this meant that Laurelei, like most vampires, spent a disproportionate amount of time resting when compared to humans.

She'd arranged several tomes, transcribed some existing notes into her spell book, and settled in to start work before drifting off.

With nary a thought, Rolf lifted her up under the arms, kicked open her old travel trunk and placed her inside. As usual, the interior of the box had blankets, pillows, and several slips and compartments for all of Laurelei's effects.

He closed the trunk very carefully, so as not to wake her, and proceeded to seat himself on top of it. "Well, now what am I supposed to do?" With sleep a long gone possibility, he was alone for the next dozen hours or so. Alone without a thing to do.

He tried everything he could think of. Practicing his swordplay proved pointless. He could hardly improve his physical body, with the permanent stasis of a necronom holding him back. Attempting to enhance his skill with the blade would bear little fruit with no mentor or even a sparring partner.

For a time he even tried to read from Orlov's library but of course, he couldn't understand a damn word of it. It was all encoded in half a dozen different languages that Rolf didn't understand. Rolf found himself fortunate enough to be literate in the common tongue, Valdish, but he was easily outclassed by the recently deceased count's scholarly talents. Even Laurelei's translated notes in Valdish were pretty dense and difficult for him to comprehend. Even then, he didn't want to disturb her work so he left it alone.

With nothing else to turn his attention to, lingering curiosity made him wonder what was going on outside the library. Even with his ear to the door, he heard nothing. Either Orlov had taken strides to ensure this chamber would dampen sound, or there simply wasn't any kind of activity in the tower to be heard.

And so, Rolf's evenings in the library were spent in silence and long hours alone with his thoughts. He would sit in a chair and lean back, his eyes staring at the flickering flame of the candlelight.

In the beginning it was dull and even frustrating at times, but soon he found himself enjoying the reflection. He thought back on his journey so far, reminiscing about his life before meeting Laurelei.

It was nearly three hours into the first night, when Rolf started seeing shapes in the darkness and feeling a familiar sensation. "Dad?" he said quietly as he smiled a little. "Been a while... Sorry I damaged your coat... It's a long story. Why not stay and listen for a while?"

And so, Rolf sat alone, talking to the empty room until Laurelei awoke the next evening. Between crawling out of the box and getting right back to studying, she only made time for a swift trip to wash chamber. She emerged with her hair and clothes meticulously adjusted, as per usual, and immediately returned to work.

And that was how it went for the next two days. Laurelei spent hours upon hours, pouring over books, sleeping less and less each day. The two spoke very little to each other, over those hours she was awake. So fervent was her studying that she seemed almost in a trance as her quill glided across the page.

When the third morning in the library came, Rolf stared into the warm candlelight, just as before. He wondered to himself, how much longer would he be trapped in this room and what he would talk to his father about this time. He'd already told him everything about his travels so far and shared memories of his life over the last five years.

When after a time, Rolf felt his father's presence again, he appeared confused. He felt a sharp sting in his head. He grumbled quietly as images formed within the candlelight, memories dredged up from months and even years ago. "What are you... doing?" he asked. "Ulfenmoor, home... Your tomb. The hell is all this?" He received no response. "Dad? Come on, what is this?" The images just repeated themselves, over and over again.

Rolf grumbled quietly to himself for a moment and cracked his knuckles out of habit. "Damnit, stop! I can't go back there, I have something important to do." He squinted his eyes shut but it did no use, the images were burned onto his mind somehow.

He tried to focus on the fire again, in hopes that he would see something else, but the images were gone. He waited for something to happen but after several long minutes, Rolf sighed and gave up. "What is he trying to do?"

For lack of anything better to do, Rolf took a quick look at Laurelei's notes. For the most part, they appeared to be more of the same. More complex sigils, more historical accounts and more details on a multitude of magical rituals and ancient languages. There was however, one set of pages that looked noticeably different. They appeared to be maps of some kind. He spotted a chart of the night sky with constellations, stars and other astronomical objects marked and labeled.

Accompanying the maps were a series of notes that contained a variety of numbers and symbols which Rolf didn't quite understand. Of course he didn't know a thing about navigation so he couldn't quite discern what it was showing, but the translation notes appeared somewhat familiar. "Traskan Tundra... Auzum Temple," he read aloud. "She found it?"

Rolf turned his attention toward Laurelei's trunk. He wanted to let her sleep after how hard she'd been working, but if she found the temple, or at least appeared to be getting close, why wouldn't she mention it to him?

"I don't get to sleep, so why should she?" he said as he crouched next to the box and pounded his fist against the lid. "Hey! We need to talk. Get out here!"

There was some mumbling and a stir from inside, but otherwise, no response.

"Now, Laurel!" he said again, thumping the lid even harder. "I'm getting damn tired of being so patient!"

His response was met with a loud yawn and disapproving sigh. The trunk popped open and a pair of bright red eyes peered out at him. "What is it?" she said in a sleepy and slightly annoyed voice, while gently rubbing her eye.

"I saw the maps. Why didn't you mention them?"

Her eyes widened and in a panic she bounced up to her feet and threw the lid open all the way. She stood eye to eye with the crouched Rolf and wagged a disapproving finger at him. "Why were you going through my work!?"

"Why the hell shouldn't I!?" he barked back. "Are you tryin' to hide something from me!?"

"No! Of course not. I just... I didn't want you to see them yet." Nervously, she bit down on her bottom lip and shuffled her feet.

"What are you talking about, Laurel?"

Climbing out of the trunk, she scurried around him and over to her desk. Almost immediately she started grabbing pages of notes and maps and slipping them into her book. "I'm not ready to leave yet," she said firmly.

Rolf rose up to his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. "But you did find the temple?" he asked with a furrowed brow.

"...Yes."

"Then what are we still doing here? We should be going out and finding the others as soon as possible."

"I cannot," she said flatly. "This library is too full of knowledge that I require. I will not leave yet!"

Rolf appeared taken aback by this. Laurelei had always had something of a childish streak but he thought he knew her by now and that she wouldn’t be so selfish. "Laurelei, we're trapped in a castle occupied by your psychopath brother while our friends are out there waiting for us, and you want to stay here just so you can enjoy some old books! I've been stuck in here, staring at shadows for three damn days while you have the time of your life!"

The princess flinched at his words, recoiling almost as if she'd been struck. "Please, Rolf. You don't understand."

"How long have you known?" he said seriously.

Laurelei stared at her shoes and wrung her hands together. "I came across these maps near the end of the first evening. Once I'd figured out his organizational system, locating the correct book was only a matter of hours."

Silently, Rolf resisted the urge to put his sword through every book in the room, one by one. "The first night!? We could have left after the first night!"

"No! There is still a very important piece missing. I must locate it before we can leave."

"What piece, what are you talking about?"

Laurelei shook her head slowly. "I cannot say."

"Why are you suddenly keeping secrets from me?"

"You would not understand."

Rolf growled in frustration. "Look, I know I'm not as smart as you, but you don't need to rub salt in the wound."

"I am doing no such thing!"

Rolf sighed, slammed the lid shut on Laurelei's trunk and sat down hard on its surface. "Why won't you tell me what you're looking for then? I saw maps that lead right to the temple so what the hell else do you need?"

"If I told you, you'd make us leave."

"I might anyway. What's to stop me from just grabbing your trunk while you sleep and running for the door?"

"Nothing, I suppose."

After a long moment moment of silence between the two, Rolf spoke up again. "Then that's what I'm going to do. Unless you give me a reason otherwise, I'll just stuff you in that box and take off as soon as you go back to sleep."

"You cannot! As your princess, I command you to desist!" she cried as she jabbed  finger toward him and adopted the most serious expression she could.

"How are you planning on enforcing those orders, Laurel?"

"If you don't obey me, I... I will end the enchantment on your heart and let you die. Just as I promised when we first met!"

Rolf remembered so long ago when Laurelei scoffed at his threats when he awoke in the woods outside Ulfenmoor. Now it was his turn to scoff. "You really think that after all this time I'm going to believe that?"

"You don't understand, Rolf! I'm doing this for you!" she cried, stomping her foot and clenching her hands into fists.

"What?" Rolf said with a mix of shock and confusion.

Laurelei continued, speaking slowly and quietly. "After I found the location of the temple I decided we should stay because I thought that maybe something here could help you."

"Help me with what?"

"Becoming human again." Neither Rolf nor Laurelei spoke for several long, silent moments. Eventually, the princess continued. "I promised you that I would make you human again if you protected me on my journeys. You have lived up to your end of the arrangement many times over and yet I am no closer to my own. I assumed that if such a knowledge existed anywhere, it was here."

"...Oh," he said flatly.

Slowly, Laurelei moved to Rolf's side and took a seat next to him, folding her hands in her lap. "So you know why I cannot leave yet. Not until I have found out how to make you human or turned this entire library inside out."

"Laurel, you know that's not a good enough reason to stay, right?"

"No. You are wrong. I promised I would do all in my power to resurrect you, just as you once were. Would you have me make a liar of myself?"

"You really are a good person, you know that?"

"What?" Laurelei replied, brow furrowed and eyes peering up at Rolf.

"When we first met, I thought you were a selfish, annoying brat. You were stuck up, arrogant, and always talking down to me."

"Remind me never to go through so much effort on your part again, you boorish lout."

Rolf laughed to himself a little and nudged her shoulder with his elbow. "Yeah, just like that. But when it matters, you're a good friend. The best, really."

Laurelei laughed as well, nudging him back. "Hmhmhm! Well, you too have greatly surpassed expectations," she said with a sudden burst of suppressed mirth. "So, what do we do now?"

"Well," Rolf said, digging into his thoughts for a brief moment. "While you've been sleeping, I've been talking to my father."

"Rolf, your father is gone. You told me so yourself. You know you cannot truly be speaking with him, do you not?"

"Yeah, people have been telling me that for years now. Doesn't change what I see. He showed me some things, some places. I think he wants me to go home."

"Home? To Ulfenmoor again? But why?"

"I don't know. My father wants to tell me something but I don't what it is. He's never been able to speak to me, I just see him sometimes. Maybe if I visit his tomb, I can get a better idea. He's buried in Wolfrest, a massive graveyard near Ulfenmoor."

"This is just ridiculous. We will not go out of our way simply to pursue your delusions."

Rolf shrugged. "Call it a favour then. I just raided the most fortified castle in Dravinia for your runty backside, so you can make a small side trip for me."

Laurelei let out a miffed noise at his gruff phrasing but seemed to acquiesce regardless. "Well, what of the library? What of your cure?"

Rolf shrugged. "Screw it."

Laurelei replied with a shocked expression, wide-eyed and mouth parted.

"At least for now anyway," Rolf said. "I still want to become human, but right now this undead body is exactly what I need."

"Are you sure?"

"Yeah. If I were mortal, I'd never have been able to handle half of what I've been through since we met. Hell, I'd have died three times just on my way through this castle. I decided that I was going to see this through to the end and stop Mordica's Spire. If that means more fighting, then being a necronom is exactly what I need right now."

Laurelei's voice was soft and pleading. "We may never have another chance like this. You could be stuck in that body forever."

"If Orlov knew how to resurrect the dead, he wouldn't be a corpse in the corner right now. I'm willing to take the risk that if it does exist, the secret to getting my human body back, isn't in this room."

"Alright Rolf, you win. When do we leave?"

"As soon as you get your stuff packed up, because if I have to look at these same four walls for one more minute I will throw myself heart first onto my own sword."

II

"And so the trail of bodies ends here," said Count Lockhart, standing at the entrance to Orlov's private library. At his back stood Orso Khan, Yana and Gutterwink.

The Necronom crouched low and traced the castle floors with bony fingers while the others maintained a professional stance.

The count whirled to face his officers, a scowl on his face as he cast his gaze over them. "Does anyone wish to explain to me how over a dozen of the night-guard lie dead in the halls and not single, damn person saw anything?"

Yana sniffed at the air, detecting a curiously familiar scent. "The princess was in this room, less than a day ago. Her scent has changed slightly since her time at the castle but her perfume is unmistakable. It permeates the chamber ahead, she spend quite some time in there."

"Anything else?" Atticus asked.

"There was someone else with her. I do not recognize this scent. A necronom, I believe."

"Yes! Yesss!" Gutterwink cried. "It was the raggedy boy! He killed the guards!"

"Indeed, all the reports do have my sister accompanied by a necronom warrior," Atticus said. "Well, I'll just have to kill him too. My schedule is growing ever more occupied by murder these days."

"Let Gutterwink do it!" said the Count's assassin. His hands itched to grip the hilt of a sword once more.

"All in due time. First, we investigate." Atticus eyed the open door in his path, his appraising gaze traveling up and down its surface. It appeared as clear as day now and yet on his initial search of the castle, no such room was uncovered. "Disguised by illusion?" he mused. "How very clever our Count Orlov is."

Count Lockhart lead the way in, his stride into the darkness was slow and careful.

Orso stepped in at the back of the group with a lamp in hand. He moved to his master’s side and held the light high to illuminate the room.

When the orange glow encompassed a dark, prone shape in the far corner of the room, Atticus's eyes lit up with glee.

"And there's that body we've been looking so hard for!" He spread his arms wide and laughed haughtily as he stood over his former ally. He gave Orlov a sharp kick  and rolled him onto his back to reveal the huge gash in his chest. His mouth was agape, his eyes wide and blank, and his complexion somehow more pale than his usual ghost white pallor.

"He's still alive," said Yana.

"Oh?" replied Atticus. "Go on."

"I smell no trace of rot. Other than Gutterwink of course. Orlov is not dead."

At that moment, Orlov took in a long, deep breath. His entire visage shifted in an instant and he was his usual self again.

Before he even managed a word, Yana's hand darted out from under her cloak, clutched him by the collar, hauled him to his feet and shoved him hard against the wall.

He let out a stifled coughed as he smacked against the shelf and rattled loose several tomes. "S-stop, please!" he pleaded, clawed hands thrown up in submission and his entire body recoiling.

"Stop what?" Atticus said calmly. "Just a friendly little chat. Of course, if I get bored I might decide to stop talking. With that in mind, entertain me. And if I suspect for even a moment that you're using your alucinor eyes, I will pluck them from your skull."

Orlov took a quick breath, straightened his posture and smoothed out his coat, all the while still nursing the gaping wound in his chest. "The princess was here," he said in as collected a manner as he could. "And I know where she went."

"Continue.”

"No," Orlov said with sneer. "The moment I was no longer useful to you, you betrayed me. I won't make that mistake again." Orlov had regained his usual composure by this point, cold and composed in his behaviour. "Right now, you need me."

It didn't last long, as Atticus simply snapped fingers and Yana moved with the speed of a striking serpent. Her hand was on Orlov's throat and she lifted him off his feet as if he weighed no more than a small child. She held him aloft and let him dangle in her grip while Count Lockhart spoke.

"You have vastly overestimated your own value," said Atticus. "I do not need you, you simpering wandought. I have already succeeded, for all intents and purposes. My sister is branded a traitor and I stand as the hero who retook Golodomor after its Count failed to maintain his own hold against a rabble of mercenaries. Laurelei is naught but an irritating loose end. You can tell me what I want and make me happy, or you can withhold yet more information from me and make me very, very angry."

Yana dropped Orlov to the ground with a hard toss.

He landed in the middle of a pool of his own, stale blood. Scowling and seething, he pushed himself to his knees. "I have no delusions about your mercy, Lockhart." He practically spat the name, his words laced with vitriol and disgust. "The moment you have what you want, I will die. Well so be it, I shall face my end with what little dignity I still have, rather than let you torture it out of me."

Atticus looked down on Orlov, smugly pleased with himself. "And how do I know you won't lie to me?"

"So you can come back and set me to suffering later? No, I think not." Orlov's voice came out as a cruel hiss. "They make for Wolfsrest Graveyard."

"How do we know he speaks the truth?" said Yana. "This rat has already deceived us once before."

"We do not," said Atticus. "Which is why he will make the journey with us. If we find he has told us an untruth, his death will be made as long and painful as Gutterwink knows how to make it."

The necronom cackled through a skeletal grin and Orlov appeared sickened by its very presence.

"Orso, Gutterwink, ready the Count for travel. Yana, you shall remain here to keep an eye on things. I want a discrete carriage ready for travel within the hour. Let none know of these arrangements or of Orlov's situation."

"Of course my prince," she said as she bowed low before him. "However, I do not mean to question you, but do you truly wish to go yourself?"

"You would assume that any one of you would be more than capable of killing my darling little sister, and yet, three of you have failed in this task already. I believe it is time I tried giving sororicide a more personal touch."