Page 12 of Shadowbound

Which means I must, for a time at least, entrust myself to the hands of a DayBorn barbarian. Well, at least I know that Kraven hasn’t been tampering with him. And with a little discipline, hopefully everything will fall into place.

I’m already planning my next moves as I mount my horse and lead Alaric towards my tower.

6

Alaric

We leave the horses at the stables located at the bottom of the tower, though I’m reluctant at first.

“What about feeding them? I can’t leave Destrider without food. And his saddle’s still on—he’ll get sores!” I protest as she turns to the door at the foot of the tall, stone tower that reaches like an accusing finger into the night sky.

Sylvanna gives me an appraising look.

“I like you for caring what happens to your horse, my Paladin. But worry not—my stables are spelled to care for the animals within.”

She points and my eyes widen as I see Destrider’s saddle is being removed. He snorts and prances a bit, uneasy with the invisible hands that are divesting him of his gear, but I can tell he isn’t being hurt.

Sylvanna’s horse—a dappled mare—stands quietly, munching hay as the invisible servants also remove her saddle. Clearly she’s used to this kind of treatment.

“You see? No harm will come to him,” Sylvanna tells me. “Now come with me.”

Her tone makes it clear this is a command, not a request. For some reason, my shaft stirs in my breeches. I take note of the reaction and then try not to think about it.

“Yes, Mistress,” I say sarcastically.

Sylvanna only nods.

“Very good. That is the correct way to address me. Now come—we must get you bathed so that you can take your oath.”

We go through a carved oaken door which has been painted black with mystical silver symbols marked upon it. Sylvanna places her palm on the symbol in the middle and murmurs a few words. I can’t hear what they are but I get the impression they’re in another language—perhaps some magical tongue that only sorcerers speak.

The door trembles and then swings open, revealing the beginning of a long spiral staircase.

“Come,” Sylvanna says to me, and leads the way.

As we climb in slow circles, she points to different doors that we are passing.

“There is my work room where I develop new spells and channel my magic into new artifacts,” she explains. “And here is my training room—you’ll experience it firsthand later. It’s been some time since I trained a Blood-servant—it should be interesting.”

“And how exactly do you play on ‘training’ me?” I ask, feeling a strange mixture of apprehension and desire.

She casts an amused smile over her shoulder at me.

“You’ll see, my Paladin. I promise it will be a pleasurable—if humbling—experience.”

I don’t know what to think about that.

We pass her kitchen, which she assures me is run by the same invisible servants who care for her stables.

“Let me know what you’re hungry for—they can make it for you,” she informs me.

I’m fucking surprised she has a kitchen at all.

“I thought your kind lived on blood,” I say bluntly.

She laughs lightly.

“No, no—we do require a sip from time to time and of course, it can help in building power. But for the most part, we NightBorn eat and drink just as you DayBorn do.”

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