Girl With The Golden-Cat Eyes 50 1

But to create life? The closest thing to that was the Miasma that thrived in the north. And this only birthed monsters and demons.

Even as a G.o.d himself, Alistair still could not wield the power of life or death.
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"Your Holy One," A man approached from his left. "We've received several magical correspondences."

"Could they not wait until we arrived back in the capital?" Alistair asked without looking from the statue's mutilated body.

"One can wait, but one is from the Amba.s.sador of Haven, a message from the White Dragon," The man reported as he straightened his armor. "The others is from our spies within the Dragon Empire."

"I'll just hear all of them," Alistair said as he got up and put the statue's head under his arm. Alistair wore a luxurious golden robe, printed with a large sun on his back. It glinted in the dying sun as he pa.s.sed the man.

"Yes!" The man perked up as another man, this one dressed in white robes, picked up the last basket. "From our Amba.s.sador of Haven, he forwarded the White Dragon's demands for the statue remains you've destroyed. Should anymore be destroyed, she will attack."

Alistair sighed. He wondered if Akyryss had lost her insane demeanor. Before, she would just attack without provocation. In the last hundred years though, she'd been unnaturally tame in her antics.

("I wonder if ruling over something had been the reason for that...") Alistair thought to himself.

Haven was a rather new city. Once an outpost, it'd been taken from his kingdom by force. In an odd turn of events, she ended up taking the city under her wing rather than razing it to the ground. While the island had been a rather important a.s.set, it served better to placate that insane dragon. Her unprovoked attacks had distilled into empty threats. It had proven that dragon's loved to horde, and she treasured haven for some reason. Something, or someone, held her there, scared to abandon it.

"Fine," Alistair waved his hand dismissively. "She can have the remains."

"I hope you understand that means she knows you lied to her about throwing them in the sea," The man said.

"I'm not concerned about that," Alistair said.

"The next report is that the undead march on the Dragon Empire," The man reported. "The Black Ones have been spotted, as well as the White Wolf."

This stopped Alistair in his tracks. He turned and looked at the man with narrowed eyes. His silvery pupils constricted dangerously.

"Were they working together...?" Alistair asked

"Our agents believe they're at odds with one another," The man reported. "The wolf had intercepted a woman the undead were chasing."

"And the Black Ones?" Alistair asked.

"The report detailed black skeletons matching the description of the warriors." The man said. "We're a.s.suming it is the Black Ones after vetting through bestiaries."

"We'll have to prepare for Lahabiel then," Alistair cursed. "He's going to be a pain."

"The next report is that the Northern Keep has fallen and Demons are flowing in from the Forbidden Forest," The man reported. "The report also details clashes with the White Dragon's spies, but they were minor. The report also details that the demons do not bother them, only our agents."

Alistair noted the man's expectant look. He was waiting for some piece of information that'd allow him insight into this phenomenon. He left him in the dark. He couldn't confess that Akyryss was friendly with the demon race. She traded from the land of Light and Dark. She was neutral. While he didn't like this position, it was better than having her as an enemy.

"Anything else?" Alistair asked.

"The last report was from our Bishop in Gulley's Port of the Dragon Empire," The man cleared his throat. "We don't know the accuracy of this information, but he says a woman by the name of Cyril had arrived in the town. She has glowing golden eyes."

Alistair visibly tensed up momentarily.

"Send a message back and ask for more information," The G.o.d of Light ordered. "I also need the Bishop to remain on that woman's good side. Have him find out who she is."

"That may be... Hard," The man said.

"And how may that be?" Alistair asked.

"The undead are marching on Gulley's port, that was the last part of his message." The man said, "We've already tried to hail him, but there's something interfering with our spells. We haven't been able to connect with him since the messages arrived an hour ago."