A Draft in the House of Shadows

Estate von Brandt stood in the midst of the higher military district of nobles, intended for those who supported and sacrificed for the Hyrulean army. The mansion often stood out among the other more cheery establishments, for it was a manor of gothic nature, as per the tastes of the past owner, Johannes von Brandt, a previous Knight Commander of the Hyrulean military.

The bereaved who owned it now, Ursula von Brandt, was returning from a meeting in the high castle concerning a previous headache, Lord Pontius Perseus, and the discource of action that would be taken place against him due to evidence of affiliation with questionable parties. The atmosphere of the room was rather... tense for a council that was to govern the affairs of the people, and while it was that Ursula had proof of evidence, the result of the jury would be postponed until a later time.

Thus, Ursula decided that it would be a matter she'd have to take directly to the king for his governance as soon as she could get a hold of him.

"Rather unfortunate, isn't it?" So spoke Janette as the carriage neared the estate, "A full council of lords with no backbone to handle the grievances of the people."

Ursula remained silent, her brow knit and forehead creased by discontentment. "Perhaps they, too, share the sins of Lord Perseus."

"That would be a scandalous thing, madame. These are men who were appointed by His Majesty himself!"

"Appointed, but not regulated, Boucher," the noblewoman sighed as she pinched the keystone of her brows, "Wealth is the root of greed, and power the fruit they would desire. If they would protect their assets instead of their own citizens, they would let rats run the city."

"A strong statement, madame."

"It must be said, Janette. There are things that happen among the few that affect the many, and if the few are not disciplined, the many will fall into chaos. Those blinded by greed lead a people blinded by their need for succor, and like sheep they will stumble one after another into the abyss."

The carriage arrived to the driveway and parked before the entryway into the estate. The carriage door was opened, and the lady and her maid alighted onto the pavement. Two knights, courtesy of the Royal Family for her husband's service to the crown, stood by near the entrance and greeted her in unison with a salute.

"Madame von Brandt."
"Sir Luther. Sir Barold. Anything to report?"
"Nothing out of the ordinary, madame."

The door was opened for her, which led into the foyer of the manor, a brightly lit room with a beautiful glass chandelier. A painted portrait of Johannes and Ursula hung on the wall above in a decorative filigree frame.

The image was before her unusual transformation, where she was a striking beauty with platinum blonde hair and fair, vibrant skin. The jolly Johannes had worn his military uniform, and his straight, silken raven hair cut and stubbly beard. The artist did well to display their youthfulness, if not attempt to add some... flattering touches to Johannes.

"I will be in my office," Ursula announced as her butler removed her academic overcoat, "I do not wished to be disturbed until dinner."

"As you wish, madame," came a united reply.

With that, Ursula proceeded up the staircase to her study and unlocked its door with a unique key that only she possessed.

The door opened with a creak, and she was greeted with the void of shadow... as well as two tiny lights at the other end of the room, sitting where her reading chair exactly was.

Were it that her blood had any warmth, the chill of anticipation would have turned it to ice. She hesitated for the briefest of moments, then proceeded inside of the room and locked the door behind her.

Silence blared in the room as she stood with the amber glow of her own eyes shown in the shadows. Menace began to radiate from her being, the irritation of earlier grievances fueling the anger that her unwelcomed guest had managed to access her most private of rooms, in the most securest of places of her heart.

'Trespasser' echoed, no, screamed within the depths of her mind.

Even so, she would not make the first move--nor any move, for that matter. Her very presence would cause the darkness to shift, as if also unnerved by the uninvited guest.

"... To whom do I owe the pleasure of this meeting?"

She did not move and neither did Dalvidyl, for it was moments like this tested a person's worth. Most tend to berate him, rush him down in an attempt to dispose of the Sheikah. But, alas all of them were met with a most untimely demise. This, however, was something entirely different and one he excepted as such from the woman of exquisite skill and taste. His own eyes witness her destructive capabilities and it spoke to him, that lowly whisper that led him here. The darkness had shifted, but he didn't need to see it to confirm the tether because he felt it too - as though someone had pulled at the sinew within his arm. An odd sensation no doubt, but it made him more curious.

"A group of unsavory fellows. I'd give a name but the thought had not crossed my mind until it was too late." His eyes flickered about, a lowly blue flame that seem hot to the touch. "You got some moves. After your first lesson, I couldn't help but come back for more. That scuffle with the blonde-haired knight was a sight to behold. Unfortunate you didn't kill him. I'm certain the shadows would have enjoyed the nourishment."

With that, he stood up from the reading chair, almost silent with his movement. Not a creak stirred within that study room but there was a sound in the back of the mind, a humming chant too far to translate but just close enough to discern its malicious intent. But, it was largely ignored since it only guided his actions and heed not its hushed tones. Dal's actions were his own and control was the only proponent that fueled his survival. He dove in enough dark places to know he shouldn't indulge in the mindless chant. So, he walked to a section of the bookshelf, back turned to the lady of the house and plucked the first book he laid his hands on.

"Grandmaster Amhurst's A Dance with Fire. Nothing truly worth noting in the text but rather ingenious for his application with Din's gifts. My master gave me a copy of this book. i had to cite it 100 times from cover to cover." He pushed the book back into its resting place and gave the entire shelf a sweeping view before he turned to face the woman.

"Impressive collection. But its missing something... here, here and here." Dal pointed to the empty spots on the bookshelf. "All the schools of magic are contained with this very shelf except one. Other than the Tenebrae Arcaneum, the rest of the tomes seem to be missing. I believe much like that encased book, the rest are for your eyes only. Quite the caution one."

The noblewoman's eyelid twitched as she observed him, her heart beating a quiet rhythm. Her legs refused to move, but neither could she come up with a more appropriate response.

"They... certainly would have--were I one who lives for myself and not others."

The stranger left the seat and began to peruse her selection of books. It seemed he had plenty of time to observe her belongings, which, in turn, caused her to wonder just how long he was in this room before she arrived.

That, however, is no reason for him to linger any longer when he was clearly not supposed to be here...

... Unless fate meant for it. Something was strange about this man, something familiar, but... foreign in its concept, and for that reason alone, she was keen on finding that out.

Ursula grimaced and folded her arms, "Well, firstly I commend your capacity for rereading one book--very few have the patience to want to read through anything even twice in its entirety." She shrugged, "Were it that the individuals who hired you read as much as you have, we wouldn't be having this conversation and I'd be dealing with someone else."

Her eyes had begun to adjust, and with what little light emanated in the room, she could make out a bit of his figure, if not his texture. A tall fellow, lanky in some respects, and more than likely capable of rushing her down when he wanted to--the ceiling was adjusted for people of their height, after all.

"Secondly, yes, there are tomes best unseen for those of undisciplined talent. They are corrupting, and wrought nothing but destructive inspirations. I am certain your master would have done the same for you." Her hands spread open and her brow hardened, "... Thirdly, the shadows could enjoy nourishment in a few moments if you do not reveal yourself now, child of Din."

"Child of Din. Heh." Dal chuckled at the thought, foreign in title and lacking in detail. Of course, that wouldn't bother him if he were here on business but he seldom had the pleasure of meeting others, particularly those who displayed unique attributes. "A practitioner of the shadows ought to know that true nourishment comes from those untainted from its blessing. Or at least in theory according Marconis' Study of the Shadowborn. A very interesting book."

With that being said, the theatrics were coming to an end. The shadowed man cared not for idle threats but wary was the mind. The shadows might be guided but none held true mastery over it and he could feel it. There was conflicted thoughts, whispers of madness and destruction. He couldn't pinpoint the origin, but it was there like a throbbing pain to his very being. Suddenly, a blue flame flickered betwixt morbid fingers and a brilliance of cobalt washed half of the study into an ethereal plane of existence. The mask had grown bright to the visitor's face and to many horrors, t'was roughly stitched atop of burnt flesh. Of course, such scars must have been long ago, for the skin had grown dead with decay. It was though the person that stood in front of the lady of shadows was nothing but a ragged corpse - a macabre display of a fractured soul.

"Hello, Ursula von Brandt. I am Dalvidyl Arctucus but don't expect that name to mean anything to you or anyone. People tend to avoid the dead."

Ursula inhaled sharply as her eyes fixated on the blue flame, then to the man.

No.

The corpse of a man.

... By the gods.

Disgusting, appalling... yet... by its concept, astonishingly breathtaking. Before she knew it, an unusual euphoria began to run through her mind. Questions, yes, so many questions began to fill her mind.

It was far too long since her heart trembled from horror. How could such a grisly creature exist? Who had sewn this corpse together and given it life? What mad, psychotic reprobate would mutilate another for whatever purpose he had?

She almost wanted to tear him to pieces, to see what it was that made him alive...

... Oh dear, Amelie. Are you fascinated by this?

The woman's body loosened as she mustered a crooked smile. The shadows fled from her side, all except for her own shadow, which pulsated with its own sick anticipation.

"Dalvidyl Arctucus, an ironically beautiful name," she repeated with an unsettling whimsy, "Do correct me if I am wrong, but what necromancer decided to put you together?" She let out a short laugh from her chest, "Aha... I jest, but... my, my, my, consider me... awed."

The visitor had a tug at the corner of his own mouth, a wolfish half-cock grin that otherwise made his grisly expression even more unnerving to those unfamiliar to his ghoulish appearance but the young man had a good idea on where Ursula stood on the matter. It was refreshing, to say the least, for not often people shared his morbid sense of humor - a quality that one must carry when they are damned to walk the earth with scars like these - and to some extend, held a modicum of appreciation for jest. However, t'was only to lighten the tension and by all accounts, it wasn't completely snuffed out as one would guess.

"Consider it a folly of my own ambitions." He declared, albeit nonchalant. "For if there were such a person with exceptional ability, surely you of all people would have sought them out."

He had not forgotten the portrait, though how could anyone have when the magnificence of its subject stood vibrantly in contrast to the home it slumbered in. Although this was merely out of habit - to pick up tidbits of information whenever available and with so much time on his hand before the arrival of the lady of the house, Dal noted a few things in her absence. But such secrets will come to light in due time.

"But I digress. Idle chat isn't my interest at the moment. I'm more inclined on speaking on a more important matter... Demise." Dal glanced over to the encased book then back to Ursula. "Not a particularly popular topic but I ensure you its for the best."

Folly? A man appears to have come back from the dead and all he will do is chock it up to folly?

How tantalizing. Perhaps she was wrong in hindsight? Surely no man would mutilate himself to achieve the look of a corpse, lest he desire to inspire fear in his victims before their death.

Mm, maybe. Regardless, Dalvidyl expressed his interest in the topic of Demise--something that Ursula perked her eyebrow to. Naturally, his side glances would not go unnoticed, the grimoire that sat in its place was not for a mere inquirer of dark arts to see.

Ursula shrugged her shoulders, “Unpopular, yes, but more common than you'd think… especially these days.” She waved her hand in the air, “If the state of the daily bulletin is any source of news for you.”

“I can only assume that you would like to know a bit more about the gift-giver of Demise, its origins, how it came about and forcefully intruded upon Hylia’s people? Or…” She lowered her gaze and smiled, “Or is it that you would like to know how to wield it?”

"Both are interesting, if that is what you offer." Dal plainly spoke, the blue torch still alit within his palm. While the topic of Demise was indeed common in this part of the land, it was truly a mystery on his part. Yet, it haunted him to no ends and sleepless nights had become more friend than foe. The shadows were a fascination, especially for someone of his caliber. He took a short stride along the ebony bookshelf, somewhat attached to the literature displayed so proudly in the darkness of that home before carefully placing himself against the wall.

"For prospects on the path to master the gifts of the world, one must peer into the heart itself to attain true understanding." The shadow calmly quoted, flicking the blue flame from one hand to the other. "Madam Elise, Chief Magistrate to the University of Magic before being ousted as follower of Demise. Of course, those times were rather a poignant reminder on the Schism before being reenacted to study in the later years. I must say, her words ring true." He continually stared into the flame as it flickered. Then, he peered over to Ursula.

"I'd take it lessons within your home is not an option?"

Sink me. The fellow quoths her discourse well.

“I’m afraid that is correct,” Ursula replied with a slow nod, “Adjuncts to the school are prohibited tutoring any student in their own abode--and I plan not to overstep the legality of the system…”

She paused.

“... Within the public eye.”

She lifted her hand toward a bookshelf opposite him and flexed her fingers.

“I will not turn down an earnest learner… especially on a cherished topic of mine.”

Then, a click. Then a quiet thud.

The stand where the well-fortified forbidden texts sat shifted into the wall, revealing a hidden corridor in the floor. As it opened, Ursula strolled toward the opening and stood next to it.

“Before you enter, know that I expect you to die with the secrets of my tutelage," she grinned, "If you can die, that is."

The Sheikah smirked, taking the lady's word with jest and compliment. "I suppose there is a first for everything." He added, a poignant note that he had not the blessing to attain true death in some respects. Yet, damned as he might be, there wasn't hesitancy on his end nor were their cautious step. Dal was already deep in the maw of shadows and anything at this point had the chance to murder him, especially the woman who took a chance with a walking corpse like himself. He tossed the blue flames between both hands, careless by appearance and lazily sauntered over to the very same place Ursula stood, though albeit across from her.

"Quite befitting for the lady of shadows." Dalvidyl chimed, as he tossed his blue ball of flame to' and fro'. "I take it word of my existence would not fall from your lips, seeing as though death is often goes hand-in-hand with secrets." His eyes narrowed at the woman, knowing very well the business within their natures. He'd rather not deal with any unpleasantries during his tenure here in Hyrule, seeing how easy it is to conduct himself without restraint.

"Please, after you."

The woman stared at him briefly, then proceeded to descend down a staircase. As they proceeded, the stairs began to wind around in a spiral, and the opening behind them closed. Ever-burning candles lit the forbidding path, held by small grotesque gargoyles nestled in crooks in the wall.

At this time, Ursula spoke up.

“Every contract has its terms,” she said, her voice echoed in the hall, “Should anyone mention your name outside our meeting, you will be a stranger to me. Notwithstanding, any persons of coincidence who approach you, again, outside of our meeting, will have nothing to do with me.”

She stopped halfway and turned her torso to face him.

“You ought to know this: you are not the first to approach me on this topic. There were others before you, a choice few, who retained their sanity after delving into darker secrets. They are your precious seniors, and have gone beyond learning. You may learn from them should I be inaccessible for any reason, but consider my teaching as a priority over them. Any qualms about that?”