The solemn thud of Andros' metal boots echoed through the Grandmaster's study as he stepped into the dimly-lit room. The chamber now harbored only three lifeless bodies strewn across various points, with the candlelight vanquished by the cold night air gusting through the open window, causing the curtains flanking the frame to flutter wildly.
"The Dragon's Son" Andros surveyed the room with a stoic grace. Lifting his right hand, a dazzling golden glow emanated from his palm, materializing a gleaming golden spear that instantly bathed the entire study in light.
"My word!" Seraphine, the mermaid guardian standing behind Andros, gasped upon seeing the desiccated corpse of Grandmaster Constant on the ground. The assembled mages paled, their expressions a tableau of shock and disbelief.
Planting the spear into the ground, Andros' deep crimson hair and gravely serious face were illuminated as he examined the scene. He knelt beside Constant's body, scrutinizing the wound on the back before gently turning the body to inspect the abdominal wound—a perplexing absence of blood at both sites.
"Something drained their blood," he declared, his eyes lifting to meet those of Seraphine and the other mages, his brow still knitted in confusion. "Yet no marks upon the throat; this is no work of a vampire. As far as I know, none could best Constant save for the Ghost King himself."
"Perhaps you should say 'him', not 'them'," a sudden voice drew Andros' gaze toward the bookshelves, where the adventurer Morven rose from beside a fallen mage's body.
"This body bears no wound, yet the dagger beside it is blooded."
Handing over the incriminating dagger to Andros, the knight-captain observed the evident bloodstains on the blade. He moved to inspect the second mage and found a similar weapon.
"After examining this body, it's clear: death came by a powerful blow, a broken spine," Andros informed Morven, who nodded in agreement.
"It seems these two were felled by the Grandmaster, their daggers matching the wounds on Constant. Yet they didn't kill him. Another was here – the true mastermind and executioner."
Andros' gaze swept the room once more when a stray breeze lifted something soft from the floor, which fluttered around him before settling gently down. He caught it deftly, and upon opening his palm, a black feather lay revealed.
Staring at the feather, a question formed on his lips and he turned to Seraphine, "Miss Seraphine, if I recall correctly, does Grayson not have a black owl as a companion?"
Caught off guard, Seraphine nodded, then asked in a startled tone, "You don't suspect Grayson of slaying the Grandmaster, do you?"
"Perhaps it was him, perhaps not. But this feather at least suggests his presence," Andros' voice rose to command, "Duglas!"
The deputy of the Silver Dragon Wing Knights stepped in at his call. "Command the knights to depart immediately. Find Grayson. Only by finding him will the truth surface."
...
"Only by following him will we learn the truth."
In the pitch-black night sky, the little owl Elyra, her claws clutching the transfigured Grayson and Katheren – now mice – flew silently overhead. Not far ahead, a dark-robed figure floated towards the snowy plains to the north of the City of Radiance.
"How far must we fly? You two are heavy, and I can barely hold on!" whined Elyra, her voice tinged with petulance.
"We must follow him, my darling, just a bit longer. I believe he won't fly much further," whispered Grayson, now a black mouse.
As they approached a dark forest, the robed figure, "Bloodhand" Wystan, descended gracefully at the edge of the woods, looking into their shadowy depths before stepping inside.
"Hurry, keep up with him! The forest provides cover for our pursuit," Grayson urged Elyra.
Struggling, the little owl fluttered into the trees, depositing her charges on a branch before sprawling out, wings spread, gasping for breath.
"Can't you push on just a bit more?" Grayson glanced at the tiny creature, but Elyra shut her eyes, ignoring him.
"Never mind, let's go on our own. Our small size should keep us hidden from him," Grayson suggested to Katheren.
The two mice skittered through the branches towards the depths of the forest, soon spotting Wystan's trail and silently followed him to a glade shrouded in darkness, spying from a treetop.
When Wystan entered the glade, surrounded by thickets, three similarly robed figures emerged, bowing in deference before him.
"Your orders have been clarified, my lord," they intoned in unison.
"Where is the woman?" Wystan's rasp pierced the silence.
"Not far, in the Yeti Forest," the lead figure responded softly.
"Go, take her out cleanly," Wystan commanded with icy detachment, to which they bowed, "By the Twilight's decree!" and hastened away.
After their departure, Wystan remained still as stone, his intentions unreadable to Grayson perched above.
"If they speak of Alyssia, we must act," Grayson whispered to Katheren.
Suddenly, the ground shifted as Wystan turned, his eyes finding the tree where they hid. With a gesture, their perch withered in a flash of red light, crashing to the ground as the mice tumbled into the underbrush.
Scrambling up, Grayson found himself under Wystan's shadow, an invisible force pulling him towards the dark sorcerer's outstretched hand. As a mouse, he was helpless to resist.
A shadow darted from above, and a silver glint passed over Wystan's head, which fell to the ground, his body following suit.
"Being your partner is a true test of reflexes and heart strength," Grayson panted, addressing Elyra who had landed on his shoulder.
Elyra cast a sidelong glance, retorting, "Who asked you to be so disorderly and leave me behind?"
Before Grayson could reply, Wystan's body vanished in a puff of smoke, reappearing behind Katheren. She spun and fired, her silver bullet piercing Wystan's head, only for his figure to dissipate once again.
"Come here!" Grayson beckoned Katheren over, and back to back, they watched as four red glows appeared, revealing four identical robed figures.
"Delighted to see you, 'Lone Wolf' Grayson," the figures hissed in unison, "I had my concerns you wouldn't wade into these murky waters, but I clearly worried over nothing. Welcome to the Twilight Soiree!"