Issue # 22- A Shattered Clasp

A Shattered Clasp
*~~~~*

“Brun, have I ever mentioned my loathing for the shadow realms?” Erick inquires of his uncle Morthas` indentured servant. The old man bobs his silver head as he arranges Erick`s white cravet neatly around his thick neck.

“Innumerable times Master Erick.”

“This realm is so freaking depressing!” the sorcerer complains.

Brun says nothing, merely nods his head as he readies the young master for the impromptu dinner this evening. Erick scowls as Brun`s old fingers brush off the perfectly tailored waistcoat. He would curse his cousin if the poor bastard wasn`t already living a damned cursed existence. Despite his initial anger at Mikel for maneuvering him so Erick knows he would be here doing this for his elder cousin anyway.

”All the invitations were accepted?” he asks the servant once more.

“Yes Master Erick.”

“Good enough,” he replies tugging on the ebony sleeves as he inspects his reflection in the antique mirror. His uncle Morthas had the same dismal taste in furnishings that Mikel had he notes frowning at the dark wooden frame and stand that holds the mirror. Devilish aquamarine eyes framed with tempting long raven lashes peer back from the looking glass. He was as ready as was possible for his return to the misery that was shadow realm society.

Erick had always abhorred the way the shadow realms matron`s doggedly clung to customs hundreds of years old, sticking to outdated ways and pointless societal dictates. Hypocritical prigs he huffs inwardly taking small diamond ear studs from Brun in silence to place them along the rim of his left ear. How the denizens of the shadow realms could even BEGIN to play at genteel nineteenth century society he would never understand! There was not a family in this realm that didn`t have dark blood in their veins, lineages rife with satanic influence. His no exception.

The youngest Rayvenwing male finishes with his jewelry then allows Brun to apply a liberal amount of his favorite aftershave to his smooth cheeks. Again he moves a fast eye over his appearance, for all here knew appearances were everything!

He would much rather be with a hooker or three and shit-faced drink then fawning over hideous young daughters of dark wizards, shamans and mortis covens. But, Erick sighs heavily, he would persevere for Mikel`s sake. The poor shit needed someone on his side!

Morthas had left the same day Mikel`s sentence had come down and had not been heard from since. ‘Left in disgrace’ his father Romane had told him when Mikel`s father had deserted this citadel. Disgrace? Pah!

Being dark sorcerer`s who lied, cheated, fornicated, kept and abused indentured servants and Hesprat only KNEW what other sick, deviant things wasn`t a disgrace?! The way Mikel had been treated by his own sire and friends wasn`t a disgrace?! Erick hated them all.

“Brun, I am beyond magnificent. Let`s go welcome our peers back to Valravn Manor!”