Disappear With The Night

Concordia, Seven Hundred Years Before

In the morning, Thaelen slaked his hangover by drinking from Aleris as his attendants tidied the room from the night before, the clink of bottles reminding him of how much wine he had consumed trying to drown out his grief.

He bathed and dressed and went down to the bowels of the castle with his attendants, opening the vault which had always existed below, going through room by room of treasures, and having his attendants fill trunks with that which he would take with him.

It was a raw and painful experience, and his confused attendants worked in tense silence, picking up on his mood.

“Thaelen,” Meguitte entered the treasure chamber as he contemplated jewellery of past queens. “What are you doing?” She wondered watching as a pair of attendants carried a trunk past her, out of the chamber.

“I am trying to decide,” he said without looking at her. “What here belongs to Concordia, and what belongs to me.”

“It all belongs to you,” she said, puzzled. “D