The stove was bubbling, steaming and hissing. For once, Petra was cooking something today. She had obviously decided to prepare something elaborate this time. The reason for this? She was in an incredibly good mood. Her accomplice in the scheme with the princess had given her the best possible news when he had updated her on the progress of her plot. Because of this, she was over the moon. The meat, which she had specifically gone to a farmer for to buy, was sizzling in the pan. Only Achaz sat behind her at the table, no one else. Fabio and Lucius were outside tending to the animals. The hearty smell of meat and spices reached the youngster’s nostrils and made him even hungrier.
“You do realize how important you are to me, Achaz, right? I love you.” - “I love you too, Mother,” he replied, still in a polite manner. She immediately returned, “You don't have to speak to me in such an elevated manner in this situation. It only creates distance between us. It's just the two of us here. Call me mom.” - “Okay...., mom.” The boy had hesitated a little. He understood that his mother was only approaching him like this today, because he was now of quintessential utility to her. Usually, she was always cool and distant to him. He knew that she cared for her son, but so far, she had rather denied him true love that came from the heart.
Nevertheless, he would join in playing this game with them. He was now also trying to increase the level of niceness in his interaction with his mother. She should feel reassured as well. Because what she didn't realize was the fact, that he and Viktoria would now be able to double-cross them. Petra and Lucius would not get their way. The boy had gained new confidence now. “I love you too, Mom,” he soft-soaped. “You're the only family I care about.” Perhaps he was laying it on a little too thick here, but Petra still seemed to fall for it. Out of the corner of one eye, you could see her smile as she reached for the caraway seeds to season the roast potatoes that would be served as a side dish. That was splendid. Then he asked, “What do we want to do next against the imperial house?” The lady, who was marked with far too many wrinkles for her age, responded, “We'll wait for the girl's letter before we decide.” - “But we've already arranged a new meeting at the same place as last time. I don't think there will be any message at all.” - “Let's see. We'll just have to wait.” This reasoning made sense to him. Even if he didn't think a letter would be sent this time, he had no objections here.
But the letter arrived just two days later. Di Alduino's cousin rode up and unceremoniously handed it over to Mr. Cornel. He accepted it without saying any thanks and immediately retreated back to the small wooden hut where they were currently residing. He was alone at the moment and would not wait for his co-conspirators to return, as he knew that they would not be back for several more hours. The curmudgeon, who had apparently just recently shaved his beard again, sat down on one of their three chairs. His hair was still dishevelled and unkempt. He placed the letter he had received on the dark tabletop, which had such a rough surface that it was difficult to write anything on it without ruining one's entire document from the grooves in the wood grain. With his bare hands, he immediately tore open the envelope and pulled out the contents. Apparently, this time the piece of bumph consisted of two sheets of parchment.
He immediately began to read the first one. He finished it relatively quickly. It was nothing special. Just a few childish, imprudent ideas, which the girl had come up with, that came close to the trivial. He and Petra had already gathered much more sophisticated, promising ideas. Although, he had not imagined that the sorceress could be able to come up with much more anyway. Then he moved on to the next sheet of parchment. Upon seeing it, however, he was a little puzzled. “What is that?”, he said to himself. In front of him was an almost blank sheet with the following written at the top: “My fire burns for you.” There was a little heart painted right next to it.
The guy had immediately understood what she was trying to do here. “This child probably thinks she can trick me. But she'd have to wake up much earlier for that!”, he declared. He immediately lit a candle and held the writing over it. Soon the first letters began to darken in the heat, revealing a hidden text written in invisible ink. It was exactly as Lucius had assumed. Then he began to read the actual, secret message that the princess had addressed to her lover. After he had gotten through the first two sentences, he already had to interrupt himself again. He mulled it over. Then he read through the rest of the message in one go. When he had finished, he pushed himself away from the table to get some distance, not only mentally but also physically, from what he had just learned.
The son of the former regent was shocked. It was fortunate that no one was here to witness this. He broke out in a cold sweat, which began to run down his forehead and back. He pondered on what he had just read for a while longer. Yes, now, he was sure. He had unravelled the mystery. In her actual message, Viktoria had told the boy how she imagined they could manipulate him and Petra. They weren’t the cleverest of ideas, but this was still very worrying. The way she spoke about telling him things now led Lucius to conclude that the teenager could communicate with him by telepathic means. Had the two of them been fooling them from the start? The thought drove him to fury and the man pounded his fist on the tabletop. The candle fell over, went out and from the table rolled down onto the floor.
“Goddamn it!”, he fumed. “Tricked by a couple of brats!” He couldn't just sit back and let this go, oh no! Lucius leaned back in his chair and began to think up something new. He ran his hands through his tousled hair. Then he pensively stared at one of the walls while fiddling with the old signet ring in his trouser pocket to keep his nervousness at bay. “That damn devil! I'll destroy him, and if it's the last thing I do!” Revenge against Wenzel and against Teleiotism in general was now all he had left to live for. He had chosen this as the purpose of his life, as terrible and pitiful as that may sound. Still, Lucius really was the last person anyone should feel pity for. His mind now thought up a perfidious intrigue.
The bastard would compose a new letter, which he would pen as accurately as possible in Victoria's handwriting. He would present it to the others as the girl's actual letter and make the real one disappear. For Lucius, everything was at stake here. That included his life. He wouldn't let two brats bring him in a hell of a mess. The stakes were simply too high here. Therefore, he had to keep Petra in the dark about what was really happening here and what he would do next. The stage was set. Soon the play would start.
A woman, namely the sister of the Chosen One, stood opposite the despotic praetor with her index finger raised in lamentation. Luzeica’s long robes were fluttering in the wind. Around her stood her companions and a crowd of local shepherds. Their sheep could be seen in the background, as well as the Southerly vegetation that made Camenia so unmistakable. This depiction of a well-known passage in the Holy Testament was definitely appealing to the viewer. It was dynamic, vibrant and drawn in bold colours. Ylva now brought her upwardly stretched neck back into a normal position. She couldn't keep endlessly admiring the beautiful frescoes, that were all over the palace’s ceilings. She had a duty to attend to.
Then the doors she was guarding swung wide open and an elegantly dressed couple left the imperial chambers. They were the parents of the emperor's spouse, who had been visiting today and were now on their way back to the not-too-distant Olemar. Those two were then followed by Amalie and Viktoria, who bid her grandparents another friendly farewell. The princess was once again dressed extraordinarily beautifully and was flaunting a long, vanilla-coloured dress that definitely her mother had made her wear. As soon as the visitors had disappeared, the young lady immediately retired to her room. The emperor's wife, however, remained in the corridor as she had something to tell Ylva:
“Our little girl behaved properly today and there were no troubles. She has demonstrated dignity and politeness towards her grandparents. I'll make sure to praise her for her good conduct. But I need to know something from you first. Have you noticed anything negative about her behaviour in the last few days? Has she improved or has she perhaps even snuck away again?”
The bodyguard immediately provided her with the relevant information: “I have not observed any overly rebellious behaviour during this period, mistress. There has been no further attempt to sneak away. And I regularly check her room at night, so she can't possibly have escaped at some point. Similarly, none of her usually groundless ‘episodes’ have occurred” - “Very good! Then let's have another quick word with her.” The empress was pleased for a change. There, His Highness the Chosen One was already scurrying past the two ladies again without showing any interest in their conversation. He went straight back to his study to pursue his usual activities with his assistant. Ylva followed his wife into the teenager's room.
By uttering, “Viktoria?”, her mother tried to attract her attention. The girl, who was presently lying on the bed, seemed to have been caught by surprise and picked herself up immediately. She was in the process of changing her clothes. “Geez! Mother, I've only just gotten back here. Could I at least get a little time to change my clothes?” Immediately afterwards, she moved behind a thin screen in the corner of the room to continue with her undressing. Her Majesty ignored the girl's remarks and replied, “I was pleased with your conduct today. I just wanted to tell you that.” At first, nothing came back from the young lady. But she quickly thought of something she wanted to get off her chest: “I still don't like all these rules of etiquette. I'll never like them.” - “And yet they are necessary,” her adoptive mother promptly retorted.
“We are not doing this to torment you, rather because there are certain things that society and the world demand of you. I love you and your father loves you too. He has told you that many times, though, and shown it even more through his actions.” A slight grumble could be heard from the girl. She knew this was the truth, and yet she felt like a thrall, constantly being dictated every single little movement and every word she spoke. “Once I take over from you and am in charge, I will change all that,” she boldly announced to her. “You will experience the same thing that Wenzel experienced so painfully. One person alone cannot turn heaven and earth on its head. What we can do is limited by a multitude of factors: Tradition, conviction, self-interest, the power structure. All of these are limitations to which everyone is subject,” was the empress's reply.
The little girl didn't answer. She was still wet behind the ears and had never thought too hard about such topics. Amalie strutted through the room in tiny steps and looked around as she had done so many times before. She was content with the elegant furnishings. This was something she set great store by, unlike her husband who, in her opinion, would keep everything here terribly minimalist, which would not be very presentable. The magician had finally finished and came out in much more casual clothes. Her face radiated a certain amount of joy. This stemmed from her awareness that she had everything under control in regard to the events with Achaz. Her mother noticed her good mood and consequently made another interjection, “If you behave well in your studies, I can give you more than just my praise as a reward. But that requires you to really pull yourself together now. So don't send my best wishes to your friend, if you don't see him again.”
The lady thought to herself that she had made a witty, sarcastic remark to tease her daughter a little. It had a completely different effect, as Viktoria now assumed that they were onto her for sneaking out. She looked at her guardian with wide eyes and fell silent. Amalie concluded that the girl had probably taken her humour a little too seriously and simply left the room without further ado. It was a bizarre end to the conversation.
The summer heat was beating down on their heads. Nevertheless, the leaves on the trees flaunted their lush green colour. In the distance, the cry of a falcon could be heard as two riders were heading across a pasture side by side. Achaz was exuding optimism, while his overseer was in a comparatively subdued mood, yet seemed in much better spirits than usual. Their destination was, of course, the meeting point with Viktoria, which would be the same one as last time. That was what they had agreed upon, and she had also emphasized this again in the letter she had sent him after all. Accompanied by the concert of chirping crickets, he went over her message in his head once more. Almost all of the suggestions she had made in it had been too clueless and half-baked for his mother and Lucius. Unfortunately, he had to agree with both of them in this assessment. None of Viktoria's ideas were really realistically workable. They would be presenting her with other suggestions. He was really curious to see how they would manage to set Petra and her henchman up here.
“It's good that you've understood the need to fight evil, sonny,” Lucius said after far too long a period of silence, knowing full well that the boy was only trying to fool him. Petra's scion responded, “There are things that are bigger than me. I've finally understood that. No one should have to grow up without their father like I did.” The lies the youngster was telling certainly were audacious, especially since he had hardly made any impression so far that he thought anything of their deceitful machinations. This made his companion cough all of a sudden. He almost flew into a rage at such a stupid statement from the boy. “I never had a father either! What does that runt know about true suffering? I'll throw him in a dark dungeon for ten years, maybe then he'll have an idea!”, it buzzed through his mind. He was silent for a minute, then he moved on to another topic:
“You know, the Melgarists are dedicated to the worship of magicians, meaning devils. That can only be considered evil. Whoever deifies man will suffer a severe punishment for it! God alone should be worshipped.” He paused briefly, but continued right after, “But the other side are not automatically the good guys either, just because they are against the evil ones. My mother, God rest her soul, was also guilty of blasphemy. She had this weird demon idol that she regularly prayed to! What a load of nonsense!” This revelation shocked Achaz. Baffled, he looked over at Mr. Cornel and asked, “Why are you telling me something like that?”
Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Dourly, the man replied, “Don't you think this is going to become a common occurrence now. It could be the last time I confide in you like this, if you tell anyone else. Is that clear?” - “Crystal clear!”, came the reply without hesitation. Nevertheless, it was very uncharacteristic behaviour, that Lucius was displaying here today. Perhaps he was feeling a little more sentimental than usual, who knew for sure.
“The Alethic Commune has its rightful place; it stands for the right path. My only fear is that under the constant pressure of the heretical majority it will either be completely crushed at some point, or it will adapt and make concessions to the Melgarists. If that happens, all bets are off! We are already fighting an almost hopeless battle. Nevertheless, there is a way for us to win, even if it is highly unlikely. You can be of great help to us here, lad,” the vengeful man explained to him.
Achaz only ever replied with a simple “yeah” or “mhm”. In the end, however, he asked, “You've never talked to me so much or so openly. Is there a reason for that?” Without even paying the boy a single glance, Lucius simply replied, “You'll see.”
Now the night of the date had arrived. The wizard flew over the Ordanian lands, while at the same time straining her mind to think through what kind of act she and her boyfriend would put on today in order to deceive Achaz's mother and her co-conspirators, and to slowly manipulate the situation to their own advantage. It was inevitable that this would be a difficult undertaking. Still, nothing ventured, nothing gained, as the saying goes. But above all, she was already in eager anticipation of meeting her crush again.
The huge, gloomy forest stretched out below her. From a certain distance, however, the light of the prepared campfire finally reached the field of her visual perception. Full of nervousness, she now accelerated her flight. The fire came closer and closer until she finally got close enough to slow down and land in front of the flames that lit up this lonely and almost spooky patch of earth. There still was a large log lying in the fire. No one was here. Not a soul was to be found in the area illuminated by the light. Inquisitively, the girl cast a glimpse to her left and right. Then even behind her. Nobody there. What was going on here?
“Achaz? Are you here?”, she called out. But no-one reacted. “Come on, say something! I know you're here,” she called out in a slightly louder voice. There was still no answer, no nothing. That really unsettled her. A bit of fear began to rise up inside her. One thing was absolutely certain: someone must have lit the fire here and there was hardly any other possibility than it being either Achaz or his watcher, who always was keeping an eye on their meetings. Were they simply trying to scare her? But this had gone on too long for that. Or was it an ambush? Realizing this contingency, her senses immediately jumped into a state of high alert. The princess's muscles tensed feverishly. She took another look around. Nothing could be made out. At the moment, not even a sound could be heard from the forest. There was only the rushing of the water from behind her.
She took a few steps forward until she had reached the edge of the cone of light. In front of her were only the trunks of the trees. Further back, where it was already considerably darker, a light, a reflection of the flames, very briefly flashed up. Something or someone was there! This situation was truly terrifying, but she was a magician. She was Viktoria and no one could even touch her! So, she summoned up all her courage and continued in the direction of what she had seen. Once again, she called out to him, “Achaz! Achaaaz!” It was getting really dark here now, but visual orientation was still possible. A short distance away, there was something larger on the ground, that looked a little different from the forest floor and the moss in this place. Gradually, her eyes adjusted to the lower brightness here and she began to see better.
Then it was revealed. There was a person lying on the ground. Without any hesitation, she immediately rushed over to them. She quickly recognized from the clothes that it was Achaz. Had he fallen down and fainted? She took him by the shoulders and tried to shake him awake. Then she saw it. When the girl realized it, a shock ran through her, which quickly turned into pure horror. Her hands and subsequently her whole body began to tremble uncontrollably. Only then did she let out a panicked scream. A deep cut could be seen on the boy's throat. His eyes were open but stared lifelessly into space.
“What? Why? How did this happen? Who did this?”, all good questions that were frantically flashing through her mind. As the realization of what was here in front of her slowly sank in and got through to her, Viktoria fell to her knees and began to cry bitterly. This atrocity shook her so much that she was simply overwhelmed by her feelings at first. After a period of sobbing, however, she looked up and spotted a single object that had been purposefully placed on the corpse's chest. It was the thing that had previously reflected the light. With a shaky hand, she reached for it and fetched it. Under the light of her gleaming eyes, she turned it to and fro examining it from all sides. In that moment, it was all over for her. Now she had understood. Oh yes, she had understood everything! She knew who had done this and why he had done it. He would pay for it!
The entire family was roused from their sleep by a murderously loud clanging noise. Theodor abruptly got up and jumped out of bed as if stung by an adder. The girls all took a little longer. One could now see heavy rain coming in through the window and the man immediately went to investigate what had happened. It was fairly obvious. It was storming outside, and the window hadn't withstood the weather. “Oh, God, what's that?”, he could hear Irnfrid complain behind him. It was absolutely bucketing down, and gale-force winds were blowing away everything that wasn't nailed down in the streets outside. “Eleonore, Marzia! Come on, get away from the window,” the mother immediately ordered them. She saw that it was raining in so hard, that within such a short time a puddle had already formed on the floor.
Meanwhile, Theodor continued to stare out into the open, listening to the deafening cracks and rumbles of thunder, which could now be heard over and over again at very short intervals. It was one hell of a thunderstorm! The elderly army man just wondered where it had come from so quickly. Before they went to sleep, the sky had still been starry and clear. How strange. When he heard, “Darling, what are we going to do now?”, behind him, he turned his attention back to his ladies. Alexander was sleeping in his own room by now, and was, therefore, not here with them. “Grab the blankets and cushions. We're staying at Alexander's for tonight,” he immediately sprang into action. Eleonore naturally asked straight away, “Does that mean we have to sleep on the floor?” - “Haaah!”, her father exasperatedly sighed. “I'll also lug the mattresses over with me, at least the ones that aren't soaked yet.” At that, the little girl seemed satisfied for the time being.
The relocation went very quickly. Then the guy ran down to the first floor to inform the guards that their window should be repaired as fast as possible or at a minimum barricaded for the time being. Back up the stairs, he was a little slower. Their temporary night quarters were now at the very end of the corridor and Theodor was no longer rushing to get there. Apparently, more than just his window had been broken and there was a lot of activity to be overheard from some of the rooms. But then he was struck by something completely different. A sound like an explosion literally reverberated throughout the expansive building! This promptly spurred him into action to find out what it was.
Gordomanni moltum ab hac consoetodine differunt. Nam neque sacerdutii habent, qui rebos divinis praesint, neque sacrificiis student.
By the faint candlelight, Wenzel was reading the ancient text in front of him. From time to time, he cast a quick glance over at the window, which the storm was repeatedly rattling violently. It was difficult to concentrate under these circumstances, especially when trying to translate ancient records, for which he often needed the help of his assistant anyway. He put his translation of the sentence down on parchment. Then he gently put the quill aside, right next to the inkwell. Perhaps it was better to finish tonight's “night shift” early and go to bed. The weather was extremely disconcerting.
“Boom! Clang! Whoosh!” Suddenly, a shockwave burst through the window, not only shattering the pane into a thousand pieces, but also breaking off parts of the surrounding masonry. This detonation also instantly swept the emperor away and several feet backwards until he regained his feet. The wild thunderstorm from outside now penetrated in here with all its destructive force. The first thing that came to the mage's mind were his books, and that he had to protect them from the forces of nature. But when he raised his head and looked at the hole in the wall, he put all these thoughts on hold for the time being. Hovering in the gap in front of him was his daughter, drenched by the rain and looking down at him.
Before he could even notice the pained look on her face, she threw something small over to him. It bounced on the ground a few times and then came to rest right in front of him. “I've found it. This is yours, isn't it?”, her voice rang out in a strangely harsh, yet muffled tone. He immediately noticed that there was something terribly wrong with her. Wenzel picked up the object and examined it closely. It was a signet ring with “M.R.” engraved on it. It was the imperial seal of the Melgarions. He had never seen this object before, but as the successor to their dynasty and inheritor of their authority, it must logically have belonged to him. So, the emperor answered, “I suppose so.”
He didn't have the slightest idea what he had just conveyed with this. In response, the girl clenched her fists and strained all the muscles in her body, so much so that she let out a groan. From her point of view, it all made sense now. Her father had found out that she had been defying his orders and meeting Achaz in secret again. As a result, he had made a move to put an end to it once and for all. She was now convinced that Wenzel had killed her boyfriend! And his words had only just confirmed it for her.
“You monster! How could you!”, she screamed at him at the top of her lungs. Absolute confusion then spread across the ruler's face, who had no idea what a grave mistake he had just made. “What on earth has gotten into you? I don't understand what you're....” Wenzel couldn't get any further. Before he could finish his sentence, the sorceress unleashed another telekinetic blast at him! He tried to block it, but the force of the attack was too great and catapulted him backwards, sending him crashing into the wall with his back. A crazed, manic Viktoria now produced a huge flame in her hands.
“I'll show you what it feels like to lose things that are irreplaceable to you!”, were the truly despicable words that left her mouth. Her adoptive father had only just recovered from the previous attack. Pieces of the wall plaster were still crumbling off his shoulders and the rest of his clothes when she already moved on to the next step. Before the eyes of the man who was so obsessed with the study of magic, she let out a torrent of flames in all directions, instantly turning his library into an inferno of fire! At the sight of this, the sovereign's heart sank. He stretched his arm forward to quench the flames right away with his magic, but the girl immediately attacked him again to stop him from doing so.
Yet again, she flung him away like a rag doll. Her magical powers were much stronger than his, a fact that Wenzel was now being made painfully aware of, even though he had already known it. What should he do now? He didn't want to hurt his daughter, but the better question was whether he even could! The little girl landed on the ground a few steps in front of him. The Chosen One promptly got up again. Mentally, he prepared himself to evade her next attack. But it did not come. She stared at her “father” with a hate-filled face. Wenzel wondered what was going through her mind at that moment, but even before he could open his mouth to ask her about it, to possibly talk some sense into her, he began sensing it. There was a strange tension in the air that seemed to be steadily increasing, causing the hair on his forearms and then on his head to stand up.
With her index and middle fingers outstretched, the mage brought her phalanges into a position reminiscent of the countless images of His Holiness, Melgar the Great. An electrical voltage now seemed to build up in the area, concentrating around Viktoria. Overwhelmed by the situation, the emperor just stood there motionlessly, and did nothing to put a stop to this. The whole time he only beheld the lifelike face of Melgar, with his large nose, unlike the icons often depicted, and his determined expression, burning itself deep into his subconscious. Then the young lady pointed her fingers at him. His moment of destiny had arrived! The energy was released, and a dazzling light flooded the entire room, accompanied by a deafening crack. Just before she had released her lightning bolt, however, someone had been heard calling out, “Wenzel!”
Both sorcerers had now been thoroughly blinded. Their visual senses first had to recover from the overexposure. When the world slowly became perceptible again, they were presented with something completely unexpected. Wenzel was unharmed. Lying on the tiled floor in front of him was the body of a man he knew well. He had stepped into this scene and had tried to protect the life of the Chosen One at the last second. He had succeeded. But unfortunately, Theodor had had to sacrifice his own life for it! When father and daughter realized what had just happened, they stood there in shock. Viktoria had not wanted this! The Supreme Marshal had nothing to do with any of this. In fact, she hadn't even wanted to hurt her adoptive father. She had just absolutely gotten carried away by her emotions.
Dismayed and confused, she turned away. She didn't want to watch this any longer and simply made off. His Highness, however, immediately took up the chase. He flew after her out into the pouring rain. “Viktoria! Stop right there, Viktoria!”, he bellowed after her as literal deluges of water gushed towards him. She didn't listen to him and shook him off very quickly. Wenzel swiftly realized that he was flying much slower than his daughter, no matter how hard he tried. Devastated, he came to a halt and looked back at the palace, which was now in the process of catching fire. After a second's thought, he turned around and returned to his private library.
Human lives were always the top priority. He immediately went to Theodor, quickly moved him out into the corridor with telekinesis and tried to save him with a healing ritual. It was pointless. The man was already dead and no magic in the world could bring back the dead. Nonetheless, the magician went through the futile trouble of drawing the magic circle. Meanwhile, more and more servants, guards and other inhabitants of the palace began to converge here. The ruler drew line after line with great haste, while he was forced to watch through the open door as the accumulated knowledge, he had gathered over all these years, was being consumed by the flames before his eyes. The book with the green cover, lying on the desk, could also be seen going up in smoke. All that work for naught!
Soon the first people arrived with buckets of water to fight the blaze, but it had already become far too powerful. At the same time, the rain abruptly stopped. The person whose emotions had caused it had now gotten out of reach. The flames spread more and more, and the order was given to evacuate the building. The guards, together with the fire brigade, would continue trying to contain the fire as best they could. This was truly a dark day in the life of Wenzel, but also in the history of the country!