Torchlight faded into the chamber from the vacant castle halls.

The council waited in silence as Trishe stood from her wooden chair as fast as her thoroughly aged bones allowed. She reached for an iron cage hanging over the darkwood refectory. An orb of light awakened from a rest and moderately brightened the convergence room, swaying tentatively in the center of its prison. Darkness, still the oppressor of the space, fastened under the brows, the sides of their faces, and beheaded those farthest from the glow.

A spotlight fixed onto her scowling countenance. Thick silver braids like intertwined snakes hung limp from the center of her hairless scalp to the middle of her back. She inquired with a croak, the wrinkles around her eyes and mouth stretched and shortened. “Where is the King? Was he not made aware of the assemblage? The sun has fallen for Lord’s sake.”

The shadows responded. “King Barak speaks with a messenger from Ghusun. He shall arrive shortly.”

Trishe attempted to reach for another cage. A grumble like distant thunder erupted from a man across from her.

“We all have urgent preparations! How is he careless of our time?!”

“Calm yourself Othre. Your anger will not summon him.”

“How can you request that I calm down? It is hours past! Our King does not have the interests of our people at the forefront! I have other matters to attend.”

Othre scoffed and stood with clear annoyance.

The orange light spilling into the room squeezed into dark as the chamber doors shut with a definitive knock. “Sit down, you imbecile.”

A second orb resurrected, and the granite walls removed the perception of entrapment within a void. Trishe dusted off her black cotton kirtle, situated her burgundy girdle, and sat with a leg crossed over the other to behold the impending entertainment.

Footfalls echoed on their approach to the table. A wooden chair seemed to slide out on its own. It creaked under Magda’s weight and emanated a soft screech as she skid her legs under the refectory table and into the dim light that turned her golden-brown skin grey and created black holes where her eyes should be, a grave look aimed at the complaining councilman. Her black hair was tied to the back curve of her skull and jutted out like bundled pikes.

She hissed at the Othre. “Since we are all present, we can discuss the darkness ourselves. Rumors are rounding the kingdom; the King will begin to take it seriously. We must convince him of its inevitability, not weaken our argument by carelessly allowing our feelings to possess us!”

Othre had burst into laughter. “I do not recall anyone requesting the voice of the King’s quill and ink. A venerated scholar you are, have you not realized your insignificance compared to the rest of us? Trishe could obtain your title of Speechand and continue to run her political nonsense without an additional breath of air. Speaking to you now lifts your value beyond your worth and it makes me ill!”

“So far, you display your duty with tantrums, like a spoiled child. Overseeing mercantile should breed some sort of maturity within and yet I’m afraid nothing will, you balding swine.”

The proceeding silence was deafening and awkward.

“Allow me to explain the crisis at hand, future peasant. Our King has treated this evil with indifference, just as the other befallen kingdoms. Every trader and merchant with ties to Sindur fears for their lives. We have lost a great deal of resources and we lose more by the day. If the King will not arrive to discuss what is next, then I will follow their lead!”

Trishe interjected. “Wait a while longer. I hear his voice…”

Magda and Othre glowered at each other.

The deep tone of the King’s muffled voice and hurried footfalls touched the ears of the council. The chamber doors swung with a high-pitched creak and the council stood almost simultaneously, their chairs sliding or knocking against the stone floor.

“Sit. Sit. I am afraid I have allowed myself to become preoccupied. Your patience is met by my gratitude.” King Barak flicked his hand out as if to backhand a fly and several dangling cages ignited, completely suppressing the shadows and revealing the long iron chains that dangled from wooden beams overhead. He rushed to his gold embellished chair at the end of the table. “Such a strange council. What reason is there to wait in the dark?”

Othre replied dryly. “It was not dark when we arrived, my King…”

“I will speak more of it soon.”

 A thin layer of sweat reflected the light off his barren scalp like a polished sepia gemstone. His jet-black beard folded in his lap as the chair whined. Sliding forward, he set a scroll on the table, and then laid his forearms flat, connecting his fingers together.

He scanned around at his advisors one by one and greeted them.

The newest and youngest member of his council, Magdalline, sat slowly with her unnaturally green gaze fixed upon his.

Next to her sat Othre, a corpulent, short fellow with grey hair that surrounded a smooth patch atop his head. King Barak despised him, but knowledge and tenacity kept him alive and wealthy, for now. Othre held his tongue, but his mouth rumbled as if he was prepared to breath fire.

Directly across from Magdalline was Trishe, the King’s highest political advisor. The tall and slender old woman is much smarter than he is, and he believed she has convinced him to rule in her favor on a few occasions for the sake of reputation, or greed. Despite this, her influence proceeded to keep the people unagitated. Even when she generated chaos, it was usually in pursuit of balance.

“I agree, we have much to discuss.”

Next to her was his Scout Master Shane. Besides the Paladins, the scouts were considered elite for those who are vaguely attuned to the light of the Second Sun. Masters of stealth, trickery, and information gathering, the lot of them. It is Shane that he trusts the most. The grey-haired man wearing a black tunic and a scar that crossed diagonally over the left corner of his lips sat in his chair after Barak.

They exchanged a mutual nod.

The rest of the council was made of eight others filling in or replacing their former advisors.

Potbellied Advisor Gonso, dressed in a purple tunic and black pants, situated himself by the entrance.

King Barak addressed no one in particular. “Where is the General?”A silent exchange of looks answered adequately. “Magda will relay the details of the assemblage to him. So then, on with it. Have we gained learning of this…darkness?”

A councilman at the end responded. “No, my king. Nothing other than hearsay of Ninovah.”

“Shane, is there word from our scouts?”

“My company reports the Kingdom of Ghusun is still lively. They construct fortifications and increased guard patrols near their northern gate. We await word on conditions further north. I have instructed they report by crow every week’s end. If nothing has taken them, we will retrieve a message by night. Any more frequent, and progress will slow.”

“Good. We must know if there is truth to this madness. We cannot allow ourselves to defend against gossip.”

Othre replied sharply. “Accounts from refugees is far from gossip. We have sheltered nearly twenty of which have witnessed the darkness firsthand. Does not the decimation of Ninovah speak for itself?”

The King ignored the councilman’s disrespectful tone. “No, it does not. There is no evidence that the darkness, if it indeed exists, has destroyed an entire kingdom. Stories are simply not enough to base our preparation.”

“But they all agree on the same details! A black wall of evil that scrapes the clouds and is as wide as an ocean! Thousands of screams heard for miles! How do you expect we will defend against it if we do not act now?”

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Othre effectively riled the council, and they chattered like whispering ghosts. The King looked to every worried soul sympathetically. “Whether anyone has lived to see this darkness remains undecided. Inspection of Ninovah’s ruins with trained eyes will bring us details of some sort. For now, we will prepare for a demon invasion.”

Trishe finally spoke. “And if our scouts are ambushed by the darkness?”

Shane answered in place of the king. “They traverse northwest outside of the Ghusun’s border and towards the western forests of Saralene. Direct travel is avoided to prevent a clash with the darkness, but that option is unclear. They will return after reaching Ninovah, that will take a month more.”

King Barak lifts the scroll from the table and inspects it thoughtfully. A sudden realization strikes him.

Magda delivered the look of a curious toddler. “Ghusun’s insignia?”

He nods. “A royal messenger from Ghusun had just arrived. Long has it been since we have spoken…”

Magda, Trishe, and Othre exchanged glances at each other and then returned their gaze to the king.

King Barak rubbed the flat of his thick index finger over the melted wax embedding of an oak tree, its roots hanging below it like tendrils. Surely she does not believe…, he thinks to himself. If the darkness was indeed a threat, the might of the Paladins, Wardens, and the King himself, could withstand what they have for centuries.

He gripped the rolled parchment, then addressed the council. “We will continue after we hear her words. The contents of this message will not be shared outside of this chamber. You are all aware of the punishment for disobeying.”

He scanned from one pair of curious eyes to the next, mentally warning each member of the council and they nodded, whether from agreeance or to halt their unease.

A flash of light projected around the edges of his grasp. He set the scroll gently on the table. The insignia burned brightly within the indentations. One pulse signified activation, and the binding wax detonated before him, the fragments like runaway ashes of a campfire. The scroll snapped flat onto the table. The scribed contents shimmered as each word spoke with the voice of Queen Neve herself:

To King Barak Agnor,

      By now you have heard of the evil and the Kingdom of Ninovah’s fate. Refugees that hail from Ninovah and Saralene have made their way to my Kingdom, and I am nearly out of ground for the others still to come. The people, they are frightened. They look to their Queen for action, they tell me what they have witnessed, and yet it is unfathomable. We have fought armies of undead, demons that spawn in the dark, and culled a demon lord nearly a century ago, but an ocean of darkness…

I had sent four of my scouts to inspect the devastation to the north; I have not heard a response in over a fortnight. To add to my troubles, I sense a strong presence in my forests. The distant air feels humid and hot. The trees, I hear through them; never have I listened closely to such terrifying screams. It was only a day where they were hardly noticeable. Now it is as if thousands of souls have taken refuge in my skull and cry for an end to their agony all at once. Whatever evil that sweeps the land, it approaches.

It could be my own mind that manifests a false danger, but each day I am slipping into madness. I can hardly care for myself. My sleep is now occupied by nightmares of hollering, and I am unable to awaken on my own, and when I am released, I feel unrested, deeply saddened. While I am awake and silence is permitted, torturous shouting and laughter oppresses me. It reminds me of my Paladinship, succumbing to madness for the first time. This is something much more sinister. Lord knows how I have sought to be around the ambient noises of my Kingdom to suppress the hell cries that grow louder with each passing day. I fear this may be the last coherent message from me, Barak. I have nearly succumbed to insanity. I do not know if this evil is real, it must be, but it can also be an attack created by the afflicted. It is in our best interests to work together as allies to distinguish the true threat. You are much different than your father; magnanimous, merciful, and so I know you will help when the others will not. Let Ghusun be the evil’s deathbed and send succor. Occupy my land to cast away this wickedness.

Queen Neve Esera of Ghusun

Upon completion, the scroll decomposed rapidly. His mind spun.

Trishe raised her chin and addressed the council. "If her scouts were sent on a direct path to Saralene, then the darkness will inevitably reach Ghusun. My King, we must recall our scouts."

“My scouts are not in danger! They are the fastest in the realm and will not allow some demonic inclement weather to overtake them! The king is right! We shall inspect to determine our next course!”

Other councilmembers argued amongst themselves.

“We must heed her words!”

“My King, we need to fortify our Kingdom!”

“But madness may consume him…”

Magda’s voice cut through the panic. “The darkness invades Queen Neve through her attunement to many of the forests surrounding her Kingdom. King Barak is not in any danger.”

He heard their words, but in the background of his contemplation. The message is strange. Never has Queen Neve pled for assistance in such a way. It emphasized the urgency he supposed. Sending succor to Ghusun could kill his Paladins if the darkness is indeed as capable as suggested. Nevertheless, Sindur is known for its powerful use of light against the dark and King Barak has methods that have quelled countless enemies deemed insurmountable.

A man with dark skin and long dark hair draped over and passed his shoulders, entered the chamber. His elderly face carried gaunt features, a defined jawline and pointed nose. The mouth of the General always seems unamused, and the scars scattered throughout his face lent him an intimidating countenance most would avoid.

"My king." Malshawn genuflected slowly, his black plate armor clinging subtly as he bent and straightened. He walked to King Barak’s side.

"Welcome General. You have missed a message from Queen Neve."

King Barak paraphrased the contents to his general with the help of the council. General Malshawn was visibly shocked, an emotion rarely seen from the normally stoic man.

"My King, it must be obvious that we shall save our might for the defense of our Kingdom.”

“I am afraid it is not so easily decided. A defense against this chaos on our own soil may prove futile. Queen Neve’s message is not convincing enough. It is important that we collect what knowledge we can, even if it requires force. Our scouts can search the wreckage of Ninovah, but they are not equipped for battle. I along with-"

"No."

The king, feeling greatly disrespected, turned to Malshawn with a heart stopping glare. A rage raised within him, suppressed only by spare patience. "You will not interrupt me again."

"You cannot go to Ghusun. If you depart, our Kingdom will be without its greatest Paladin! Think of what your father would have done! This is no time to stray away from our values for a pointless venture of rescuing. Sindur shall come first before all!"

King Barak retorted with controlled irritation. "I do not propose sending all swords to her aid. Part of Sindur’s prosper comes from acting, not waiting like cornered vermin!"

"Action can be achieved by preparing defenses and improving our citizen’s morale. If you leave, confidence will surely follow!”

“Our people will rest well if our might ventures to cull whatever this may be. My son is capable of ruling in my stead should I perish. If I cannot vanquish the darkness, then I shall weaken it. Master Scout Shane, recall your company.”

“Yes, my King.”

His quickness to withdraw the scouts manifested an uproar. The council argued. Othre hammered his fists into the table with emphasis on the third word of his enraged retort. "This is fucking outrageous! What is the use of a General if you do not consider his military strategy? What if you die my King? What shall we do then?"

"I will not tolerate your tone any longer, Othre. As long as I still live, you will carry yourselves with honor and contain your fear. We will discuss defenses this night to ease your mind."

General Malshawn displayed pure anguish, and it was noticeable. King Barak turned his gaze down the table and continued the assemblage.

The Generals capriciousness was startling. He respectfully conveyed a request. "King Barak, will you allow me to go in your stead? Our citizens need their leader to keep fear subdued. I am afraid if you leave, morale will follow. What if the darkness does not travel as intended? What will you do if the Kingdom is attacked in your absence?"

King Barak had begun to refute but he unwillingly reconsiders.

"He is right, my King."

"I agree with the General!"

"We cannot afford to lose you."

King Barak shook his head in disagreement.

It is now that he realized fear was stifling his own judgement. Or maybe it was anxiousness. Or maybe it was disbelief. He was still uncertain of the threat and seeing it for his own eyes would erase any doubts with haste. His General must be right, nonetheless. He cannot just abandon his people behind the excuse of salvation. Unleashing his might against the darkness could indeed rectify his decision, but it is not certain he can cull it, or do anything at all. Leading his people, remaining to be the beacon of courage and power, and strengthening his Kingdom’s resolve will be far more important, even if it leads to inevitable doom.

His son entered his mind. If he were to die, his son could not lead the people. His failure of an offspring could not conjure basic manipulations of the light as all sons before him. Doubt plagued his mind, too, and the citizens saw through the prince’s facade. If he were to die, the kingdom will belong to another bloodline upon the death of his son, and he could not allow it.

Through the council's babbling, King Barak hushed the room with a wave of his hand. A miniscule portion of his soul escaped through his fingertips, causing the metal cages to vibrate, the council member's hair and clothing to rattle, their mouths to shut. "This seems to be a unanimous decision."

The twelve seemed defeated. Some turned their heads in an upset. Others sucked air through teeth. Barak understood now that a kingdom without a king would set its people on edge. He could no longer allow his emotions to run free. During the brief silence, the King set his anger and fear aside.

"I will take some time to think over your words. Tomorrow a decision will be made. For now, we will discuss defenses.”