His Highness walked along the Cyclopean colonnades, constantly gazing at the impressive dimensions of this architectural masterpiece. The weight of the empire, the weight of the legacy he had inherited, expressing itself in them. Wenzel had walked along here so many times and yet he was always awestruck by the sight of the works of his predecessors. The building captured a piece of eternity, requiring, no, even demanding his respect. Even if he had already become accustomed to the sight of the columns, arches and domes, it was only because he saw them day after day, and because they had eaten into his subconscious. The monumental columns that stretched endlessly along the corridors, supporting the huge vault above them, could just as easily be interpreted as an allegory for the weight that now rested on Wenzel's shoulders. He had come to realise this over the years.
He moved swiftly across the colourful marble tiles towards his chambers. Wenzel had clearly changed. His shock of red hair was still short, but he now wore a beard. His imperial robes were noble, yet simultaneously radiated a kind of formality and had a few allusions to the soldiers' military uniforms in their design. The colour scheme was red and white, with the cloak being entirely in imperial purple and additionally depicting the imperial coat of arms. He wore a few badges on his chest, the same ones he had worn at his coronation. His shoes were made of leather, and he had attached great importance to the shoemaker sizing them so that they were comfortable to wear. All of this might seem quite opulent to the uninformed observer.
Evening had already fallen. His Majesty had been busy all day with everyday political business and studying. The latter in particular took up a great deal of Wenzel's time and attention, as it had in recent years. There were many things that the emperor had missed out on from his school days or had never really understood. After all those years of studying with private tutors, this matter was now definitely history. His Highness had now acquired a basic level of knowledge in all kinds of disciplines. Contrary to his massive lack of interest during his youth, his Sturm und Drang phase had now passed, and he had developed an interest in understanding the world. Wenzel had become particularly fascinated by history. He would pore over huge chronicles and other records of the past, which most other people would have found incredibly boring.
The lord had now also read the entirety of the Testament and had had a theologian help him understand its contents. He found the work uninspiring but read it anyway. It was a necessity if he wanted to be the ruler of nations for whom this scripture of faith was of such incredible importance, as he himself had experienced. Nevertheless, his reading of the text had certainly had an influence on him. Wenzel had changed considerably over the years. When he looked back at his old, naïve self, he sometimes felt like laughing. Even if the circumstances were certainly not funny....
Finally, Wenzel arrived at the door to his room. He could already smell the exotic perfume as he approached, which meant that Amalie was also in their room at the moment. He didn't knock, but simply entered. When she heard him, his wife immediately turned to him. She was a lady of exceptional beauty. Her face looked flawless, and her brunette hair was so long that it almost reached her buttocks. Standing in front of the mirror, she had just tried on new clothes. “Hello, darling! The tailor brought me the new dresses I had made earlier.” Her husband glanced quickly at the dress she was wearing. It was a pastel green, long dress with intricate embroidered floral patterns. “Very nice!” Wenzel remarked with an obligatory but serious smile. She approached him and planted a kiss on him. You could immediately see his mood lift a little. “You look exhausted again today,” his wife remarked. “Lie down for an hour and get some rest.” - “No,” Wenzel replied immediately. “I can sleep when I'm dead.”
Amalie was briefly taken aback by his somewhat morbid statement, but her husband immediately tried to reassure her that he hadn't meant it that seriously. He immediately took his sweetheart to him and the two of them caressed each other for a brief moment. There was expensive furniture everywhere in the room. On the walls were fine wallpapers in a light orange colour and on one side of the bed was a tower of dresses, the ones that the lady had received earlier and would now try on one by one. Amalie enjoyed all the luxury of her position as the emperor's wife. One could see it in her beaming smile whenever she received a new thing she had fancied. Wenzel didn't need to “give in” to all this, because he didn't tell her what to do anyway. He was generally happy when his sweetheart was happy. This meant that he now took part in such a lifestyle, even if he didn't really actively live it himself. In this respect, Wenzel's behaviour had not changed over the years. He only needed the bare essentials and considered everything else superfluous. However, he would not try to transfer his way of life to Amalie. Everyone was different. Besides, they were the elite. How could you deny other people who were at the top of the state a dissolute lifestyle? Would this even make sense or make a difference. If asked, the church would probably have said it wasn't moral, but, well, where there's no plaintiff, there's no judge.
“Tomorrow I'm meeting Flora and Emma. There's a few things I need to discuss with them, so it might take longer. So, don't be surprised if I'm not there when you get back,” she informed him. Wenzel just nodded and replied, “Sure. No problem.” Amalie noticed that he was staring absentmindedly at her pearl necklace. “Wenzel?”, she addressed him. He forced himself back to presence of mind and looked her in the eye. “Yes?” She thought for a moment about how to approach the topic she was about to begin. Then she started:
“Well, darling, what's the deal with the embassy now?” - “Embassy?” Her husband was already quite tired today, but Amalie had only limited understanding for this at the moment. A little annoyed, she replied, “You know, the Holy Embassy, the ones we sent out to find one.” - “Oh, yes. Sorry, I'm pretty exhausted today.” - “I can tell.” Wenzel thought for a moment and then answered, “Still nothing, as far as I know. We don't need to get our hopes up here. Public sentiment has only partially changed in this regard. That's why the chances of finding one are probably one in a hundred million, at least if we believe what Marwin has told us. And I hardly think he's lying to us here.”
His wife dropped her gaze with a hint of resignation. Her body also slumped a little on the bed where she was sitting side by side with Wenzel. Her husband noticed this immediately and took her to him. “Nothing will change between us. No matter what happens, you are mine and I am yours! Do you hear me!” - “Yes, I do,” the lady responded. He had already told her several times that he would never push her aside. This time, too, he tried to reassure his beloved emphatically, “I would never take another woman.” But Amalie answered: “We both know that wouldn't change anything either, my darling.” There wasn't much he could have said in reply. Wenzel did the right thing and didn't say anything back.
As a result, the two of them now sat quietly next to each other on the edge of the bed. The man was almost about to start a new topic when suddenly there was a knock at the door. When the two allowed the person to enter, they immediately recognized from his uniform that it was a very special messenger. “The Holy Embassy hereby informs Your Highnesses, that the wanted person has been found!”, the man in the taut uniform announced in a much too loud tone. “Next time, please, be a little quieter if you can. We're not deaf, okay?”, Wenzel informed him of his objections. “Yes, my lord!”, it came back from him at a volume that was still too high. He handed them the letter. Then the man saluted like a good tin soldier and left. The news they had been waiting so long for, the message they thought might never come at all, had now arrived.
Several figures in brown cowls walked along the village road. It was a relatively warm day, and they must have been quite hot in their robes. Nonetheless, they walked on. Up on their chests was a unique symbol, unknown to the locals, sewn onto their clothing. It depicted an open book alongside an olive branch. A few people gave them suspicious glances, but that was all. It was the so-called Holy Embassy. The delegation was led by the Chief Envoy Marwin. He was looking around attentively. They were obviously looking for something. One of the other men took out a roll of parchment and held it out to him. They then read through the document together, presumably yet again. Then they raised their eyes and one of them pointed with his index finger back towards the Moser farm. There followed a brief verbal exchange between the group, then they set off in that direction. The villagers had a very bad premonition about this, because everyone knew this family. The reason was a very bad one.
There were a lot of things on Marwin's mind now. The organization of which he was now the leader had been created by the emperor himself. It was an organization made up of the few men who had survived the persecution of the former inquisitors. Why? Marwin had also asked this question himself when he had been summoned to his Highness. He had given them the task of finding mages again. The moment the erstwhile inquisitor heard this, he could hardly believe his ears. But it would soon make sense to him. The Chosen One had a problem. It seemed that his wife could not provide him with an heir. Even Marwin, when he heard this from His Majesty Wenzel in person, had simply suggested arranging for a concubine. This seemed to enrage the emperor immensely, whereupon his counterpart immediately kept his mouth shut and did not broach the subject any further. He was sure that the lord had already been told something similar by someone else.
Be that as it may, the imperial house needed someone to take over from him in the order of succession, and this successor could not be just anyone. It wasn’t possible to adopt just any child, because the ruler of the Holy Ordanian Empire had to be “holy”. This meant that the future sovereign, like the current one, had to possess magical powers. And this is where he and his subordinates came into play. The Holy Embassy, led by Marwin, was to track down sorcerers. The intention behind this was not to destroy them, but to find an heir for the imperial house! This brought the group here. They investigated rumours about “demons” and “bewitched children” in the hope of finding a magician. It was an ordeal. The men had been roaming the lands for over two years now but had found nothing so far. At best, the children they found were “special”, but not magical.
Slowly they were getting tired of it, and they extended the search from small children to slightly older ones. These events and circumstances had brought them here today. They didn't get their hopes up too high. Most parents who gave birth to an obviously “cursed” child were soon confronted with a lynch mob or similar developments that very quickly led to the baby's death. The population was as superstitious as ever. The decades-long witch craze had also played its part in this. One way or another, the men would now check whether there was anything to the rumours going around about the Mosers. It was the task His Majesty had given them, and they did not dare oppose him.
The envoys approached the farmhouse via a small path. In the window on the second floor, they could see a curtain moving and the face of a child looking down at them. Marwin approached the front door and knocked on its old wood. It took a while, but eventually they heard footsteps from inside and a person opened the door for them. It was a not quite middle-aged lady with golden blonde hair, which almost completely disappeared under a traditional peasant headscarf. She looked at the new arrivals in surprise. “Can I help you?”, she asked in an uncertain tone. “Indeed you can,” the man replied curtly. “I am the Chief Envoy of the Holy Embassy and we have a few questions for you.” The woman seemed intimidated and let the guests into her house.
After everyone had sat down at the table in the parlour, Marwin began to explain to the farmer's wife that they were looking for “special” children. When she heard this, the woman, as expected, reacted reflexively with denial, “You must have made a mistake about our house. My daughter is perfectly normal.” By now the men had played this game far too often. So, while they made the usual guarantees that they meant no harm to the child, the history of witch hunts in the country meant that no one usually believed them. That was understandable, of course. When asked where the girl was, the mother replied, “She's not here. She's helping with the work in the fields. You'll have to look for her out there.” It was a lie, one that would instantly shatter in front of her. A moment later, a rumble could be heard from the upper floor. One of the visitors immediately asked, “And who is that then?” - “Uh, my cat! We have lots of cats, you know. Sometimes things get knocked onto the floor. You know how animals are,” the farmer's wife quickly tried to make an excuse. This didn't help either, as immediately afterwards a person stepped to the top of the stairs and climbed down a few steps to curiously listen in to those who had come to visit.
This story is posted elsewhere by the author. Help them out by reading the authentic version.
When her mother noticed this, she literally froze in place. “Hello, young lady!” Marwin called out to her. “We're here because of you. Why don’t you come down to us?” A few wild stomps immediately thundered down the stairs. The one, who presented herself to the men, was a surprise for them. A girl, who they estimated to be around ten years old, stood confidently in front of them with her legs apart. Her round face literally leapt out at them with the enthusiasm she had because she was going to meet some new people. She was wearing a beige, embroidered dress that had a few dirt stains on it. “Hello, I'm Viktoria!”, she introduced herself to them without being asked. At the sight of the child, the men immediately realized that they had found what they had been looking for. The child had long, crimson hair, a red so utterly unnatural that you wouldn’t find a single person in all of Ordania, who had ever seen anything like it. Red hair had always been a sign of special powers. Melgar and his descendants had it, and the current emperor had it too, albeit in a much less intense shade.
A fire was glistening from her eyes and her very presence in the room exuded a palpable aura. There was no doubt in the men's minds. They would do the tests they usually did, but they already knew the results. Viktoria was obviously a magician. The woman who had let them in now looked nervously at the envoy, then back at her daughter and then snapped at her, “Viktoria! What did I tell you? You never listen to what anyone tells you!” The mother now turned hesitantly to the Chief Envoy, “Are you going to take her with you now? But I must warn you. The little one will put up a good fight!” She didn't seem to understand quite yet. Therefore, the men sat down again as calmly and orderly as possible and began to explain the matter again, but this time in more detail. The mother's behaviour had certainly puzzled the men. Why had she given up her own child so quickly and not offered more resistance? It was a curious incident.
And with that, the delegation had fulfilled its task. They would inform the imperial family and soon His Highness would come to visit here in person.
Amalie and Wenzel each sat on their own chairs, which had armrests. They were just plain, banal wooden chairs. The family whose house they were visiting had just risen from their kneeling position and with their lord’s and lady’s permission sat down opposite them. It was a simple home they lived in. The widow, dressed all in black, now told them about her husband and the incident that had taken place. “He really had nothing to do with the heretic church. He was just friends with one of those former Alethics, that's all it was! I know that for a fact. The soldiers searched everything here at the time and found no forbidden texts or any other evidence. He was never guilty of anything. My dear Sigmund was unjustly executed!” The imperial couple listened intently and as sympathetically as possible. The rest of the family, who were also dressed in black, just sat there and remained silent.
Then, when the former blacksmith's wife had finished speaking, Wenzel tried to answer properly. He collected his thoughts for a moment and then spoke, “I am aware of the circumstances, and I agree with you. There is far too much injustice in this country. I'm working to change that, but I can't be everywhere.” The woman and her eldest son nodded in affirmation to the ruler. “I've brought you a little compensation here. As far as I've worked out, it will make up for the loss financially. But it won't heal the pain, I'm fully aware of that. My condolences for your loss! May God protect you!” The emperor handed them a pouch filled with gold coins. “Thank you, my lord!”, his subjects paid him the expected and appropriate deference and dropped to their knees again. Wenzel's face briefly showed a hint of unease, which then immediately disappeared again.
The two left the humble abode. They had come here to Ilmhagen on Wenzel's initiative. He constantly heard from his couriers about what was going on in the kingdom. He was not particularly pleased about it. To set an example, he had now used his journey to the southwest to make a stop here too and make the victims of oppression heard. It wouldn’t be more than a symbolic act in the grand scheme of things, but it was still important to him. Amalie also agreed with him. The two stepped out of the house, in front of which two Crown Guards had been standing guard. Then they walked over to their carriage and continued their journey.
So, where exactly were they heading? Althain was the name of the cow village they had set as their destination. It was the place the Holy Envoy had told him about. Apparently, they had found a child who possessed magic there. The carriage rolled off. The entourage included the Holy Embassy and a handful of guards for protection. Brahm, the commander of the guard, had also come along and rode beside the carriage. Wenzel looked over at his beloved. She was wearing a light blue dress with ruffles, far too elegant for their undertaking here. When she noticed his gaze, Amalie began to speak: “I'm sorry that I forced you to ride in the carriage when you would have preferred to fly. It's just safer this way. We have to look after our own safety too.”
“No, you were right. Once again, I was only thinking about myself. I know that you really wanted to come with us and since we're paying an official visit, actually several official visits, it makes sense to use the traditional method here,” he admitted to her. She responded, “Surely, even the Melgarions, who were also magicians like you, adhered to such formalities and didn't just fly in.” Wenzel wasn't so sure, but left it at that. “Are you that excited already?”, he asked his wife, whose excited trembling he had been able to observe for a while. “Is it that obvious?”, Amalie wanted to know. “Yes, it is. I can see it in your eyes too. A mixture of joy and nervousness.” She didn't contradict him. By now, he knew her as well as she knew him. Then they both held hands for a while.
Slowly, their vehicle moved towards their destination. They came to a crossroads south of the Karantian Forests, right where he had once ridden along with the Martyrs as they were moving to a new headquarters. As he looked through the window towards the north, the emperor patted his chest three times. An obeisance, so to speak. They did not arrive in Althain until the next day. It was still relatively cool when they pulled up early in the morning. Wenzel stepped out first and then helped his lady exit. When they looked around, they saw a tiny village with poor wooden huts, in which the people lived. As expected. The smell of animal dung filled their nostrils. It didn't move him much, but Amalie was seemingly irritated by it.
Before the two of them could go anywhere, a vanguard of the Holy Embassy went to the Mosers' house for them. They followed them at quite a distance, accompanied by the ever-watchful Brahm and three other guardsmen. There was hardly anyone to be seen on the streets, which was definitely fine by Wenzel, who didn't like being watched “in full gear” by onlookers. He hated people’s attention. Amalie was well aware of this. She was the one who had ordered, that “as few people as possible should be on the streets” when they showed up.
When they reached the farmhouse, Amalie saw blue hydrangeas planted in the flowerbed in the front garden. They reminded her of her childhood in Olemar. Her parents had always had beautiful hydrangeas growing in their garden. Some of them were covered by leaves, that had fallen from the trees. There was no need to knock. The residents of the house greeted the distinguished visitors at the door. All three, Getrude, Hans and Viktoria Moser, presented themselves in their best clothes. After the necessary formalities, the emperor and his wife entered, followed by the other attendants. They sat down on specially prepared chairs with cushions.
Like the household they had visited before, this was a poor home. However, the hosts had also spread a carpet on the floor, which normally wasn’t here. On top of it was a low table on which sweet fruit cakes had been placed on plates for the guests. Unfortunately, they couldn't provide much more of a “proper welcome”. It was also clear why. The child, like her mother, was wearing a red dress that matched her hair colour and also what appeared to be a brand-new headband. The father, Hans, wore a suit with a traditional rural design. His posture, as well as his leathery, work-scuffed skin, showed the hardships of his daily life. The family did not dare to speak first and only looked over at the distinguished visitors. The imperial couple, for their part, initially also only looked over at the three of them. Upon seeing the girl, it became immediately clear to them, that she was indeed a magician.
Then Her Highness, the Empress, raised her voice and didn't beat about the bush, “The imperial house is looking for an heir. We would, therefore, be interested in adopting your daughter. I am sure you are aware that this is due to her 'specialness'.” Their astonishment was clear to see, and Hans replied, “If we had expected many things, but not this.” Unsure how to respond, Amalie just shrugged her shoulders and said, “Well. The world is full of surprises.”
Meanwhile, the words of those conversing passed over Wenzel's head. He didn’t even register them. Something else captivated him. It was Viktoria's eyes, which he was intently staring into. He was fascinated by the fire that was flickering in them. It was a fire so hot and blazing that it burned into his soul. But the girl was also staring back. Having stopped to nervously dangle her feet, she was now looking into Wenzel's eyes. She recognized the small twinkling star in his pupils. Relatively soon, the others present noticed the unusual behaviour of the two and stopped talking. Into the silence of the room, the little girl asked the emperor, “You're a demon too, aren't you?” - “No,” replied Wenzel, “I'm a magician.” A childish grin formed on Viktoria's face. As if stung by a tarantula, she suddenly jumped up and used telekinesis to send one of the plates on the table between them flying towards Wenzel! The man brought it to a halt just a centimetre from his body. While the piece of tableware continued to float in the air in front of him, the girl let out an impressed “Ohh”.
Her father immediately grabbed her by the arm and began to reprimand her severely. However, at that moment the sovereign raised his hand. The father understood the signal and immediately refrained from his action. “It's okay. She just wanted to test whether I was really telling the truth,” Wenzel explained the situation. The parents' indignation dissipated again. They saw that Wenzel understood Viktoria's behaviour. The young lady then tore herself away from her father and stepped directly in front of the emperor. “Do you also have dreams of things that will happen in the future?”, she asked him. Briefly he returned: “Yes, I do.”
Wenzel carefully lowered the plate back onto the tabletop. The sensitive control of his telekinesis seemed to make an impression on the child. Finally, Amalie tried to steer the conversation in the right direction again. “And what do you think of our proposal?”, she now addressed the two parents. Gertrude and Hans looked at each other and then whispered something to each other. It took a while, but the petitioners were in no hurry. When they had finished their conversation, the father replied to Amalie, “It's a difficult matter. The child is already too old for something like this.” The ruling couple were of course aware of this. However, the man's words showed that he assumed he had no say in the matter anyway, as it was the imperial family who had made the request. He continued, “Viktoria is..... a demanding child. You'll see what I mean by that.” He paused for a moment and then looked over at his wife. She nodded reassuringly at him, whereupon he resumed, “She's a devil! We've always loved her, but the little one is cursed and nothing good can come from that.”
Viktoria rebelliously contradicted him and said, “You only ever say mean things about me, Dad! What am I supposed to do?” There was a hint of anger in Hans, but he refrained from responding to her statement. Everyone in the room was surprised by the girl's audacity, but also her fearlessness. Wenzel and Amalie paid no attention to the couple's opinion. For them, this attitude was only a result of their ignorance of magic. As a result, a few formal matters were discussed with the parents. Then Wenzel approached the little girl. He bent his knees to get down to her eye level and then asked her the question, “Would you like to come with us, Viktoria? We would take good care of you, and you would never have to worry about your future again.” Uncertain, she looked over at her parents. They gestured for her to accept the offer. “Okay,” was all she uttered to Wenzel.
This was the day Viktoria was adopted. On the way back to the palace, the child eventually had a few questions after all. She wanted to know why exactly she was adopted, a question to which she really should have known the answer to by herself. She also wanted to know whether she would be allowed to see her parents again. “If the opportunity arises, yes. But not all the time. You will live with us now and we will be your parents, Viktoria,” Wenzel had replied. The girl had not understood this at all. But she made no attempt to resist. For most of the journey, she would just sit quietly next to Amalie and look out of the window.
It was a clear autumn day and once again you could see all kinds of people slaving away in the fields. If one or two people cast a curious glance at her, she tried to hide behind the wooden panelling of the car. She wasn't shy. She had probably been taught that it was better not to be seen. This made Wenzel and Amalie a little sad. In the future, the little girl would have no more reason to hide. A new life had begun. For all of them.