Chapter Ten – Plots in the Shadows

Cyprien wished he wasn’t here, stuck in the Great Forest, waiting. He liked to always either be plotting or attacking, and right now he was doing neither. The Asdelarcen were having a meeting nearby, their voices carrying to Cyprien, but he tried to ignore them.

Iskra. That’s what he should be doing: trying to find her a body. If not for Aranthar, he would have started searching long ago. Once Eld’rin was destroyed, he would let the elves panic for a bit before attacking again. He’d visit some of the villages in disguise, try to pick up rumors of any young elf who the elves might fear or respect.

She had to be young. Elves lived a ridiculously long time compared to humans and dwarves, but the older they got, the less suitable they became for possession. Of course, she couldn’t be too young. She had to be well known, or at least recognizable. That was the whole point. Iskra would inspire far more fear if she inhabited a body the elves already knew.

“We don’t need to kill him,” one of the Asdelarcen said, his whisper carrying to Cyprien through the bare trees.

Cyprien glared at him, annoyed at having his thoughts interrupted.

“Those were Aranthar’s instructions,” another whispered back. “We’ve got to kill him.”

“Aranthar said he couldn’t be present,” the first said. “Killing him is preferrable, but he never said it was necessary.”

Cyprien frowned. More delays. He got up and walked over to where the Asdelarcen were, leaning on trees or sitting on stumps. “What’s happened?” he asked. He was getting tired of waiting. He might as well help if he could.

“Dilmir,” one of the Asdelarcen said. “He has some magical shield we can’t penetrate, and he’s found a way to influence our enchantments.”

“So you can’t kill him,” Cyprien surmised.

“We could, eventually,” the Asdelarcen replied. “We’d find a way past his shield. But it would take time, and we’re all impatient to destroy Eld’rin. We need to get rid of him some other way.”

No one spoke. Cyprien glanced at them all, displeased with their lack of initiative. “And you have no ideas?” he said.

“Well…” said another Asdelarcen, this one much older than the others, “none of which are particularly easy. Obviously we can’t kill him, so we’ve got to pull him away from Eld’rin. Far enough away that he won’t know when we attack.”

“A distraction,” said the first Asdelarcen.

Everyone nodded, but no one seemed to have any further suggestions. Cyprien looked at them all with contempt. They had no idea how to handle elves. Manipulating them was easy.

“Kidnap a friend,” he said. “Someone he’s bound to go after. Lead him along as far as you want, and by the time he finally realizes Eld’rin has been attacked, it will be too late.”

“That… could work,” said the old Asdelarcen.

“Of course it will work,” Cyprien said impatiently. “It happens every time I abduct an elf for possession. Some fool always comes chasing after them.”

A few of the Asdelarcen edged away from him at the mention of possession.

“Who though?” the old Asdelarcen said. “He has no immediate family there, and we can’t just abduct any friend of his. We have to be sure he’ll follow, and keep following.”

“Ilrin,” one said. Several nodded in agreement.

But the old Asdelarcen shook his head. “Too difficult,” he said. “She’s the obvious target, but she’s never alone. Dilmir is always with her, and when he isn’t, the Council is watching her.”

This struck Cyprien as odd. He had never heard of this Ilrin. “Why?” he said. “Why does the Council watch her?”

The Asdelarcen shrugged. “Afraid of her,” one of them said. “Dilmir’s been teaching her magic, so they’re afraid of what she might do.”

“Is she… well known?” Cyprien asked.

Several Asdelarcen looked at him quizzically. “I suppose,” one said. “In Eld’rin, at least. Everyone knows she’s Dilmir’s friend.”

Cyprien felt a smile flit across his face. A young elf who was feared. Yes, he would prefer to have an elf known by all, but such a prize wasn’t commonly available. He would settle for one known to those in Eld’rin. If she was young enough, this Ilrin would make a fine host for Iskra.

“Is she training right now?” Cyprien asked.

General confused nods.

“Take me to where I can see her,” Cyprien said. He had to see her, to see if she would do.

None of the Asdelarcen moved.

“Now,” Cyprien said, letting the word out slowly.

Several jumped up to do his bidding. Cyprien followed them through the bare trees, cold leaves rustling underfoot as they approached the edge of the forest. Soon he could see elves past the trees. He and the Asdelarcen stayed behind the trunks, staying hidden.

“There,” one Asdelarcen said, pointing.

Cyprien looked. All the elves seemed to be grouped up, watching something on the ground Cyprien couldn’t see. He looked at where the Asdelarcen was pointing, and saw her: a young elf of about eighteen or nineteen years, with curiously brown hair.

A faint sense of familiarity stirred in Cyprien. Perhaps he had seen this girl before, on some nightly raid. But that hardly mattered. He looked at her critically. Yes. Yes, she would do nicely. She was young, healthy, and he could see the other elves standing apart from her, as if they were afraid of catching something. He nodded to himself.

He turned, silently moving back further into the wood, signaling the Asdelarcen to follow. They did so mutely, probably wondering why he had wanted to see her. He didn’t need to explain himself to them. They were elves.

Cyprien reached where the undead lay a few moments later, the Asdelarcen who had stayed behind in a tense knot nearby. He strode up to them purposefully.

“I’ll make you a deal,” he said, speaking directly to the old Asdelarcen, assuming him to be in charge. “You take this Ilrin, bring her to me, and I’ll take her off your hands. I’m sure it will be easier evading Dilmir without having to take her with you.”

“As you say,” the Asdelarcen said nervously. “But what do you want with her?” he asked.

“That is my business,” Cyprien said, glaring at the elf for daring to ask.

“What if Dilmir figures out we don’t have her?” another Asdelarcen asked.

“Then let him come to me,” Cyprien said. “Uncursed or not, he’s still an elf.”

The old Asdelarcen shook his head. “She’s guarded,” he said. “Dilmir has other friends who would be easier to take.”

Cyprien stepped close to him. “I don’t want his other friends,” he hissed menacingly. “I want her. You will take her, you will bring her to me, I will take her to my castle, and then I will attack Eld’rin.”

“Of course,” the old Asdelarcen said, paling due to Cyprien’s sheer proximity. “We’ll find a way to capture her.”

“Good,” Cyprien said, stepping back. “Do it quickly. I grow tired of waiting.”

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