Cave of Sleepers: Cassandra

Written by The Oracle
 

Seventh Entry
 

     I have little time to send off a message - I've
had precious few moments to myself since I arrived in
Moonbrook, and someone will be coming to fetch me in a
short time.  I'll squeeze in what I can now, and try
to relate anything I miss later, when I have the
chance.
 

    ----------------------------------------
 

     When last I spoke to any of you, Sebastian had
just finished bringing me to Moonbrook.  I had no idea
if he would introduce me to those within, or if he
would leave me to do so on my own.   What I did not
expect, however, is that we would be greeted on the
road almost two hours travel away from the castle.

     His name was Mordred, and he rode up on a dark
purple horse.  Sebastian seemed surprised that he knew
we were coming, but Mordred simply smiled.  I learned
in later conversations that he had somehow "sensed"
our movement through Shadow towards Moonbrook, and he
had ridden forth to see who we were.

     Perhaps I should describe Mordred - though the
first word that comes to mind is "frightening".  He's
always well-dressed, though it's more practical dress
than foppish extravagance.  His skin is alabaster
pale, and his features are aristocratically handsome.
Short-yet stylish blond hair frames his face, only
adding to the effect.  I'm sure he'd be quite the
ladies' man... if not for his eyes.

     Mordred's eyes are violet, almost a vivid neon
lavender.  That's unnerving in-and-of itself, but
what's worse is that when he looks at you, it's almost
like he's dissecting you.  Peeling away layer after
layer of artifice and persona, until nothing is left
but the core.  It's like he can see straight to the
heart of all your secrets.

     Did I mention he's the son of Fiona and Corwin?
I think Lydia and Luther have mentioned before how
potent and terrifying Fiona's children are in their
worlds.  I think I can understand that now.

     Sebastian decided at that point that it might be
best if Mordred were to escort me the rest of the way
to Moonbrook, as he would have a much better chance of
getting me an audience with the people I needed to
speak with.  I suspect he noticed my unease, however
(as I am dead certain Mordred sensed it as well), and
he gave me a parting gift before riding off to return
to Cyrene.

     I still have the deck of Trumps he gave me.  I
fan the cards before me now... seeing that the cards
of Bleys' alliance are edged in gold trim, the cards
of Corwin's Moonbrook are edged in silver, and the
cards of Brand's allies edged in black... all the
cards done in Sebastian's own hand - for he was a
Trump artist.  I had asked him why he had drawn Trumps
of his enemies, and he suggested I should consider
them like Wanted posters.  I suspect their purpose is
more sinister, however... though it seems Caine's
method of spying through the Trumps is not common
knowledge in this world.

     I hear a knock at the door, and quickly slip the
cards back into their case.  It seems my time is up,
for I have a Royal Ball to attend.  More when I can
spare another moment.
 
 

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