Interlude: Rowan Morrow

The carriage pulled by the nightmares flew across his lands, thundering through villages and towns and deftly dodging any stragglers or drunkards on their way home.

Lambrecht was never particularly fond of the swift ride, confessing that it made him a little queasy, so he only came along if he thought it prudent.

The message Lambrecht had brought an hour ago had sounded rather dire, requesting his aid as soon as possible. Since Iva had been too embroiled with her experiment to leave it unattended, Rowan had summoned the carriage.

One of his night guard drove it and when he heard the low, warning hum from the coach, he reached out to place a bracing arm across Lambrecht's chest. The carriage jerked to a sudden and harsh stop only a second later.

"These horses are truly worthy of their names," Lambrecht muttered, looking a little bit gray around the nose and he swiftly exited the carriage, exhaling with relief, his breath fogging in front of him.

Rowan followed him, gaze briefly snagging on one of the horses that intently stared back the way they had come, head tilted at an angle as though it was puzzled or curious about something.

It was the newest nightmare that had joined his retinue. He had found it wandering about on his way back home after Adelia had saved his and Lambrecht's lives. It had taken quite a bit of convincing for it to follow him, but for all their danger, nightmares were favored quarry of hunters. It would be safest in his territory.

Glancing back, the way the nightmare stared, he sharpened his senses, listening for a long moment to try to notice what had caught its interest. There were only the normal, nightly sounds, however, the quick heartbeat of little, scurrying things, the rustle as animals moved through grass and Lambrecht's heartbeat near him, accompanied by the breathing and stamping of hooves.

Nightmares were not particularly patient creatures, which was a little ironic considering the fact that they were immortal and had already died once before, so they had all the time in the world. They had nothing left to fear – nothing but direct sunlight and a hunter's silver blade.

Stepping around the carriage, Rowan felt himself still, grimness and confusion setting over him as he took in the scene now laid before him. An hour ago, Lambrecht had brought a magically sent message to him, requesting his aid. That something had gone terribly wrong at one of the temples of the sun goddess.

Terribly wrong did not even begin to cover it.

Temples of the sun goddess were usually painted a pretty, gentle yellow and they were surrounded by a sea of sunflowers. They had stained glass windows that depicted the goddess's birth from a red, streaking comet and all the life and light she gifted to the world as she walked across the earth before returning to the sky to keep watching over them.

This temple laid in ruins, with strange, ugly, muddled-yellow crystals jutting out of the earth in massive spikes that glowed dully and ominously.

People had been here when this tragedy had struck, likely for a midnight worship, something they did during full moons when their goddess rested while the moon goddess reigned.

It was a time of solemn remembrance, of introspection and a preparation for the coming dawn, for the new month ahead. The worshippers here had clearly tried to flee and had gotten turned into jagged crystal statues mid-run. Their faces were somewhat recognizable, some open in desperate, silent screaming, others curling into themselves as though in agony.

Stepping forward, Rowan felt a sickly sensation take hold of him as he stepped towards the temple and soon he was forced to stop entirely, feeling weak in a way he had last experienced when silver had poisoned his body.

He could not approach the temple any further without risking harm to himself. Now he understood why the nightmares had refused to walk closer or why the vampire spawn on the coach was warily staying where he was.

"What is the matter, Master Rowan?" Lambrecht asked as he joined him, holding a lantern aloft to light his way and Rowan found himself taking a step back, grim and chagrinned at once.

"I cannot get closer," he murmured. "It's poisonous."

His friend's expression at once grew serious and he turned to face the temple, drawing to his full height. "Then I shall investigate in your stead and give you a detailed report."

Rowan almost protested, his instincts snapping to keep those beneath his wings, his protection, safe, but he forced himself to swallow it down. He trusted his friend to know his limits and to not endanger himself.

Lambrecht seemed to be able to approach the temple far better than he, stepping up to the crystals without his face losing color or starting to sweat, his heartbeat holding steady. He did see his friend wincing away when he tried to reach for one of the crystal spikes, unable to make direct contact with them.

Lambrecht circled the temple, carefully taking note of everything he saw, speaking out loud for Rowan's benefit while angling his lantern this way and that.

He managed to wriggle into the temple, as well, slipping through a gap in the ruined entrance without touching the crystals and Rowan carefully listened as his friend scooted long walls, crunching sounds accompanying his every step, letting him know that broken crystals littered the floor, but with the leather and soles of his shoes in the way, he was protected from whatever sickly effect the crystals had.

Lambrecht fell quiet then, too focused on maneuvering around the temple space to keep talking and Rowan waited, the nightmares behind him growing more restless and they were reluctant to settle under the spawn's experienced hand.

After long minutes, Lambrecht returned, holding the tip of a crystal carefully pinched between handkerchief covered fingers. It seemed he could stand holding it so long as it didn't directly touch his skin.

"I saw the broken remnants of a device at the altar, though it was entirely encased in crystal," Lambrecht said. "I suspect it was the origin of whatever happened here. I will hand this piece to Iva to investigate and perhaps you could reach out to Lord Ivan in the meantime."

His fellow warlord was a cleric of the sun goddess and one of the most powerful alive. Ivan indeed might be able to shed more light on what happened here.

"I will reach out to him," Rowan promised, warily eyeing the shard that Lambrecht covered neatly with the handkerchief before pocketing it. A single, small shard was nowhere near as bad as an entire temple of the stuff, but it still caused a sick tingle along his senses, as though a drip of ice-cold oil was slowly sliding down his spine, unpleasant and somewhat uncomfortable.

Lambrecht looked towards the temple. "Shall I write condolences to the families who lost loved ones today?"

"No," Rowan said with a soft sigh. "Leave that to me, it is the least I owe them. I will write them and send compensation, along with a promise to investigate the cause." This either had been a terrible, awful accident, some sort of experimental magic by an aspiring but inexperienced sorcerer, or someone had wanted the people tonight to die.

"Then I will try to track down the origin of the device," Lambrecht offered and Rowan gave him a grateful nod. He could not leave the keep during the sunlit hours, so Lambrecht had been the one handling daylight tasks ever since they had met ten years ago.

He briefly scented the air, trying to find some sort of smell that might tell them more of what had happened, but there was nothing. Just the scent of cold crystal and murky sunlight, and of summery sunflowers that were only still blooming past autumn because of the temple's presence.

They would soon wither, not only because of the encroaching cold, but also because the temple was destroyed. No worship could take place here for now.

"Tell people to stay away until further notice," Rowan added. "It's too dangerous to try to remove the crystals and rebuild the temple until we know what's going on."

He would not risk the lives of his people and after a pause he added, "If they wish, I will have a new temple build and once we clear the rubble from this place, we can erect a memorial instead."

Lambrecht nodded. "A fine suggestion. Shall we meet with the mayor?"

There was nothing else to do here, to Rowan's displeasure and chagrin. "We shall."

The nightmares were less than pleased at Lambrecht's approach, like they could sense the shard he carried in his pocket, but they obeyed – for now. They were hard creatures to tame and prone to breaking free of their reins at any moment. The only reason these six even obeyed Rowan was that he kept them fed regularly and was powerful enough to fight them off if they decided to go for him or what was his.

The ride to the nearby town took less than a minute, the road flying past beneath supernatural hooves and the nightmares stopped in front of the mayor's house with a sharp, calling neigh. The door was opened just as Rowan and Lambrecht left the carriage and the woman kept a wary distance to the horses that would eat her alive if given half a chance as she invited them in.

Rowan told the mayor everything they were able to find out, along with their plans on how to proceed.

"Our town will support you without question," the mayor promised, her face grim and anger sparked in her eyes. "We will aid your investigations where we can."

"We would need a ledger of the trading guild," Rowan said. "If we can find out the origin of the device that caused this tragedy, we're one step closer to finding the culprit. If you have any mages or sorcerers in the area, of if any have passed through recently, I would need their names as well."

She paused at that. "I don't know of any magical folk, but I will ask around and let you know what I can find out. The ledger I will have sent to you by tomorrow."

Rowan inclined his head in graceful gratitude and offered to have a new temple built. The mayor was silent for a moment, thinking, before she accepted.

A new temple would give the leftover sun worshippers, the ones who had sat out on the midnight vigil, a grief-free place of worship. It gave them somewhere to go to pray for their lost brethren until they had this issue sorted.

They agreed on discussing further details through letters, or if necessary, another visit and then Rowan and Lambrecht left. The ride back to the keep passed swiftly and in thoughtful, troubled silence. He couldn't help but mull things over again, his vampiric instincts less than pleased at the damage done to his territory, to his people.

Had one of the priests bought a newly invented magical item that had malfunctioned? Or had this been an act of malice by someone hating the head priest, or even one of Rowan's enemies? He wished he had the answers right now, so he may go hunt any perpetrators down. So nothing like this would happen again.

The keep was unchanged when they returned and Rowan felt his senses settle a bit. Iva liked to joke that the keep was his lair, every piece of brick and mortar soaked in his undead presence and he had to admit she wasn't too far off.

He knew every nook and cranny and he could sense all the lives within without much concentration at all, the critters scuttling about and the spawn that had chosen him as their master patrolling and keeping watch.

He briefly brushed his awareness past the rooms where Lady Adelia rested and though he could sense her, he could not hear her. Almost all bedrooms were warded against eavesdroppers, after all, with only two notable exceptions in case he had to house people he didn't trust.

Returning to his office he set himself to the heavy, grim task of writing letters to the families who had lost people tonight, using the list the mayor had given him. He then set aside the funds for the investigation, the new temple, and, once the strange crystals could be safely disposed of, the memorial.

At last he sent a missive to Ivan, requesting his expertise as a sun cleric on the matter of the strange crystals. Since he had to wait until he received the ledger of the trading guild, this was all he could do at the moment.

With those tasks done, he started on his daily duties, glad to see that his lands were doing well otherwise. The harvest had been plentiful and fate had been kind to them in general. No great outbreaks of illnesses, no devastating fires or other natural disasters.

The approaching heavy snow would likely cause some trouble, of course, but his lands had done the best they could to prepare for winter and they would deal with any unexpected issues as they arose.

His mind then wandered to Lady Adelia, who was, at this point in time, still his wife. He did not know if he should be glad or not that she hadn't signed the divorce papers yet. Not that he should have a voice in her decision, too much had already been taken from her and he would do everything he could to put the power of choice back into her hands.

It was her right to go where she wanted in life, no matter if she decided to go travel the world or, even if he would personally advise against it, to return to the kingdom she hailed from. It was her life and it belonged only to her.

She had not chosen him and did not know him, he knew that, but a part of him hoped he might have a chance to win her over all the same if she decided to stay. Even if she divorced him and left, he hoped he might get to see her again from time to time.

He still remembered the questions she had asked earlier and felt himself frown darkly. Those questions had caused something dark to stir within him during dinner and now those feelings started to rise once more. A part of him wished to seek out Iris, one of his best friends, to request a moment of her time.

They often helped each other when emotions muddled things, but it was the full moon, so she would be quite preoccupied with her pack. Even if he managed to track her down, she would not be in a talking mood. More a growling and pouncing mood, which could be fun, but should always be pre-negotiated.

His sire was equally unavailable, mostly because she was currently taking care of the hunters that had gone after him. She had not taken kindly to that and once she had heard that they were still intent on hunting him down, she had seemingly vanished off of the face of the earth. Last he heard, the hunters were vanishing one after another.

Lam and Iva were busy and in need of rest and he was loathe to bother them just because he was... upset.

Upset because Lady Adelia clearly expected the worst from him. Because she had thought she needed his permission to keep in touch with her friends. Because she was so very clearly wary, if not perhaps even a little afraid, of him.

Lady Adelia had to ask for nothing from him, she was her own person and the very thought of having assumed ownership of her made his stomach twist and his fangs ache.

Rowan knew he had long since ceased to be human. He had stopped being human the night he had chosen to escape the jaws of death by rising from its grave, but that didn't make this any easier to bear.

It had been easy to forget that he might be fearsome when he was around his friends and his people. When the people of these lands had demanded he stay and care for them after he had killed their tyrant.

Not that Rowan regretted that in the least, he loved it here, he loved that he had carved out a place for himself and that he was wanted.

He knew that the Wilds were considered strange and barbaric and uncivilized compared to the kingdoms, but as he recalled the way Lady Adelia had spoken, the careful smallness of her shoulders, the floating, trained grace of her movements and her soft, tentative requests for things she should never have had to ask for in the first place, he thought that the kingdoms were the barbaric ones.

He had tried to give her all the freedom he could, from him and their arranged marriage and to let her know she was free to choose but he had no idea if it was enough. He had to admit that he had no idea how to talk to her, either.

It wasn't hard to see that her walls were up high. Walls made of politeness and curtseys, and words he was willing to bet were always carefully chosen. To avoid what, he could only guess and none of the things that came to mind were nice or kind thoughts. He wished to know what she feared most so he could lay those fears to rest, to prove himself to her.

He was doing his best to be mild and calm around her, to be friendly without overwhelming her. She had only just arrived at his keep, he reminded himself. He had to give her some time to get settled and to grow more familiar with her surroundings, and with him.

That was perfectly fine, if there was one thing Rowan had in spades, it was time and winter would be upon them soon enough. The less daylight hours there were, the more he could be around, see if she'd like to spend some of that time with him. If not, he'd respect that choice and keep busy as he always did.

His thoughts grew calmer and more focused with that vague outline of a plan and he neatly put the reports on the harvest away in the appropriate ledgers, before he glanced out the window. Night was not yet over and he could not sense the dawn's approach, so he still had some time.

He spotted some of the night guards patrolling along the keep's walls, moonlight glinting off of polished metal. One of them sensed his attention and looked up, blood-red, glowing eyes meeting his and they bowed their head. He bowed his in return and the spawn focused back on their walk along the battlements.

The night guard would keep watch with their keen senses and some would patrol the streets of Ravenburg as well. The citizens knew to flag them down if they needed aid or simply to shout and they would come.

The forest needed no patrolling tonight, not when the moon was full and all who worshipped the moon goddess Luna were out and about.

The keep was peacefully quiet as he next reached for the letters that needed reading, since only a small handful of people were still awake. He heard softly muttered prayers to Luna from the temple room dedicated to all the deities and others were giggling. Then a door opened and closed and the giggling noises vanished.

Having Iva spell the private rooms had been one of the best idea Lambrecht had ever had, for Rowan valued his privacy and knew others did as well.

No one needed a creep as their lord and he really didn't need to know everything about his people. Quite frankly, he was fine with knowing very little. As long as everyone was healthy and as happy as they could be, there was nothing else he wanted.

The first letters on the neat stack was from Harold. The king wished him a happy marriage, followed by an utterly tasteless joke about maidens and breaking them in like wild mares and then the man rambled on about the nonsense he had to deal with concerning some nobles.

Harold was never overly detailed when he talked about politics or the grievances others gave him, so there was never anything Rowan could possibly use against him, but it still felt like they were having a sort of conversation.

Sitting back, Rowan stared at the letter for a long moment, his brows furrowed. He knew the kingdom's nobles were a viper pit, there was a reason why he didn't bother interacting with them unless he had to, but it made him realize a few things.

Namely that Lady Adelia had grown up in this environment, that she probably always had to monitor her speech down to every little detail, that she always had to be careful. It did not paint a pretty picture.

It also made him realize that he likely had a bit of a road ahead to get her to feel safe and secure enough to just speak her mind. Rowan was used to Harold, who was a powerful, influential king who could get away with pretty much everything, so long as he didn't lose the support of his nobles.

He was used to his friends here at home and the people of the Wilds, who didn't fear him and told him to his face if he was being stupid.

But his people had once been a bit wary around him, too, even after asking that he stay and take care of things. They had watched carefully and closely if the trust they had extended to him was well placed.

He had done his best to prove them right, had spoken night after night with people that needed aid and had done his best to rebuild the land from the near ruin it had been brought to under the previous warlord.

He couldn't help but think, then, that it was curious that Lady Adelia had dealt with his monstrous form better than with his human one. As though there was something about creatures that was safer to her than her own kind.

He'd be patient and he was going to do his best to make her feel safe around him. And if he failed he would write Iris, along with his sire, in a week or so, and ask for their advice. They had never steered him wrong before.

Setting Harold's letter aside for later, he reached for the next one, finding a report from one of his harbor towns that had just finished building a school and a temple expansion to house and heal sick travelers and sailors. It was nothing that required his further involvement, merely an update on how things were going.

Smiling in satisfaction, he felt proud warmth for his people fill his chest. They may be wild and barbaric and uncivilized to the rest of the world, but to him they were bright beacons of hardy hope and they had a vicious, downright gluttonous desire for a better tomorrow.

He'd gladly feed that kind of greed any day.