For the first time in a long time, Viktoria was able to sleep deeply. Her worries and fears had by no means diminished, but at least she had been able to push them further back into the torture chamber at the back of her mind. Finally, she could sleep for once. Now a raucous clattering and banging woke her from her so long coveted slumber. Woozily, she forced herself up from her mattress, staggering towards the door, and rubbing her eyes. Who would be making such a ruckus at this time of night?
It was dark in the room, but the moonlight, that found its way in through the tiny window, made it much easier to find her way around. As the girl gripped the door handle to go down and see what was going on, she suddenly heard voices from downstairs. They were unfamiliar to her. This immediately startled and alarmed her. Confident as she was, she immediately headed out into the corridor and then down the stairs. When she reached the bottom, she was presented with a scene that she would not soon forget. Countless men, but also a few women, had invaded her parents' house. Three of them had torches in their hands, while many others had brought simple farming tools such as knives, scythes or pitchforks.
Viktoria immediately understood what this was: a lynch mob! When the first of the intruders spotted her, he immediately shouted, “There's the witch! Get her!” A little overwhelmed and still a bit dizzy as she had only just gotten up, Viktoria tried to approach the situation with reason. She addressed the mob, “What do you want from me? I don't wish to harm anyone. Just leave and we'll forget about this!” Her appeal to reason fell on deaf ears. The nearest guy jumped at her, but she simply knocked him down with her telekinesis and pinned him to the ground. For a second the mage touched him, looking into his mind. This told her that the people here were convinced that she was the one who had set the mill in Zieslingen alight, causing the demise of the miller and his family. Not even she herself knew whether this was actually true.
With a pressure wave, she pushed the mob away from her to create some distance. It was only now, that her still drowsy mind remembered what she should have thought of straight away: “Where are my parents?” Anxiously, she levitated over the heads of the housebreakers. Any attempts they made to attack her with their tools were easily fended off, but she couldn't make out Getrude and Hans anywhere. Next, she flew into the kitchen.
This is where she found them. The mother was lying slain on the floor, while her husband was still groaning and wrestling with the intruders as he was backed into a corner. In her momentary shock, the sorceress was unable to do anything. Hans, meanwhile, was fighting for his life, already bleeding from his body.
But she quickly overcame her stupor and came to her parent's aid by brutally hurling the attackers away. Intimidated, the mob then stood by and stopped. “How are you, dad? Are you hurt?”, she asked a superfluous question. One of the lowlives behind her tried to get close to her again, but was instantly catapulted against the wall by Viktoria's powers, causing him to let out a groan. Only then did Hans reply, “No, I'm bleeding out!” The child was now in utter dismay. “Listen to me carefully, Viktoria,” he then said in a feeble voice. “We've always loved you. Even this won't change that.” - “Wait, I'm sure I can help you somehow!”, the adolescent said in her panic. Of course, she knew she couldn't. Although her adoptive father had taught her the healing ritual, she didn't have any of the ingredients at hand.
In her desperation, she pulled up the man's outer garment and placed her hand on the deep, gaping flesh wound in his abdomen. She hoped that perhaps she could somehow miraculously heal his injury. The Testament often described the miracles, that the first Chosen One had performed. They were often things that he himself didn't even know he was capable of, until God made them happen. At least that's what the Holy Scripture said. Viktoria didn't believe it, but tried anyway. A while passed, but nothing happened. Her biological father became weaker and weaker and now seemed to be slowly losing consciousness.
“Dad! Please, stay with me, Dad! Look at me!” Tears began to run down his daughter's cheeks. He responded to her plea and stared into her eyes. In a wheezy voice, he spoke, “Go back to the imperial palace. That's where we sent you, so you could have a better life. Go! Go and live your life!” Then he slumped to the ground and didn’t make any further sound.
This was the straw that broke the camel's back. Viktoria's racing heartbeat rang in her ears. She could no longer think clearly. All that dominated her in this moment was hopelessness and fury, yes, incandescent fury! She turned around to those who were to blame for this. None of them would leave this house alive!
After the deed was done, she flew away, leaving her old home behind her. “Back to the imperial palace,” she thought. That was impossible now. Completely impossible! Bursting into bitter tears, she departed. This terrible anguish seemed like it would never end. On the contrary, it had become much worse! She knew no way out. There was no future for her!
High brow, dark, curly hair, black and grey clothing. The Baron's head was resting on his folded hands as he weighed up his options while sitting at the table. The others were there too, of course. Petra, Lucius and Etzel were sitting at the table with him. The room was once again filled with Etzel's cigar smoke, which in turn was trapped in here by the vaulted ceiling above them. The Camenian noble was not sure what to do, now that he had received a full report of the situation. Finally, he spoke up:
“I am well aware that the Free Lancers alone are not capable of overthrowing the regime. But I am really not keen on cooperating with the Kashars.” - “Neither are they,” Etzel argued. “It can be assumed that the Hordes have a similar aversion to us as they do to the Melgarists. It would be the same reasoning for them as for us: the more forces unite against the Holy Empire, the higher the chances of success.” To this, the lord replied, “I do understand that, but we must also think about what would follow a successful uprising. Do we really want to let heathens take control of such a large part of Kaphkos?” There the ex-military officer immediately drew breath to retort, but his counterpart continued without delay. “And before you say anything, yes, I am aware that these superstitious practices in Kasharovar are also on the decline. Still, I don't know if your calculation will work out the way you think it will.”
This statement seemed to outrage the former Field Marshal. Nevertheless, he did not answer straight away. Consequently, Lucius made an interjection, “I agree with the Most Serene Baron. We must think about the time after a victory, should we achieve one, however unlikely that may be. What ramifications would there be? Who would rule over Ordania? And what would become of the other kingdoms of Kaphkos?” - “All good questions,” the nobleman returned, and then added, “I'm guessing you already have some ideas. As I was told yesterday by one of my confidants, the emperor is still alive. Shouldn't we deal with that first? After all, he is a sorcerer! And besides, the whereabouts of his heir to the throne are also unknown. She is a major source of uncertainty, because she is so unpredictable. Simply relying on the assumption that she will somehow eliminate him, is almost tantamount to gambling, don't you think?”
Lucius gave this as a reply: “What do you know! The demon will most certainly come looking for his daughter, making it only a question of time until they clash. The girl, we can wrap around our finger. It may be a game of chance, yes, but one in which we have calculated our odds and made the strategically smart moves. In the end, our whole endeavour here is just one big gamble, if you look at the position we are in! Nothing ventured, nothing gained. It is necessary, that we venture something.” Di Alduino did not deny what had been said. But he asked a further question:
“And what direction do you think we should take as far as the more long-term future of Ordania is concerned?” This question brought a sardonic smile over Lucius' lips. He then declared, “As the rightful heir to the throne of the Kingdom of Ordania and the Ordanian Confederacy, I desire to have back what is mine! I do not demand great authority. The powers that were once granted to the Royal Council may be retained. Anything else would legitimize the changes brought about by the Melgarist coup.” His audience was stunned. No one had expected anything like this from Lucius. All of them had already mentally suppressed his provenance. The Baron cleared his throat briefly and simply said, “It would probably be appropriate to discuss this in more detail when we have a greater position of power. Otherwise, we're just building castles in the sky.”
This suited Mr. Cornel just fine. For him personally, only his revenge was important. This also meant ending the tyranny of magic and ensuring such a policy in the long term. In his mind, of course, only he himself could do that, as there was no one else he trusted. He hated all these people here! To him, they were just pawns that he could sacrifice in his great chess game, if it became necessary. All of a sudden, he started coughing due to the increasingly thick smoke down here. “Excuse me for a minute. I need to get some fresh air,” he told the others and left the cellar room. He closed the door behind him, climbed the steps, pushed aside the board covering the narrow downward staircase and emerged from the small hatch hidden behind a couple of barrels. Next, he quickly checked to make sure no one had seen him and covered the opening in the floor again. Then he went out into the open in front of the old fish tavern.
The patron of the Free Lancers, who had just exchanged ideas with Lucius, was also thinking about some of the things that had been discussed. He was of an entirely different opinion to the latter. “That boorish git hasn't got the slightest bit of decency or manners! If he wants to indulge in the fantasy that any of us, let alone anybody else, will help him achieve his goal, then he's a fool. But let's just leave him in the belief that we will stand by his side. Let him feel at ease. He has no connections or influence that he could use to turn his dream into reality anyway.” That was what the Baron really thought of him. He was smart enough not to vocalize it.
Soon after they noticed a rumbling and banging that appeared to be coming from above. Etzel had noticed it before, but he had assumed that they were the usual noises made by the establishment during business hours. This, however, had been far too loud to have been normal. It gave the whole group a sense of unease.
Darkness had fallen. Occasionally stronger, then once again weaker gusts of wind carried along the increasingly crisp, late evening air, which almost made one shiver. A fully cloaked figure was trudging up. It stopped briefly in the lamplight in front of an inn, the walls of which were made of round stones. The flags that were being flown here seemed to attract the character's attention for a moment. On the one hand, there was the national flag of Camenia, but there also was the one of the Holy Empire. The latter was drooping all the way down to the ground, a serious faux pas if it had happened by mistake. Though, this was unlikely....
The newcomer promptly turned around and entered the tavern. Upon entry, they were greeted by bursts of laughter and the ubiquitous noise of numerous conversations. With a determined step, the new guest pushed forward towards the bar counter. Their sturdy boots stomped over the squeaky floorboards until they came to a halt next to one of the chestnut-coloured bar stools. As expected, it was warm and hazy in here. They scanned the place for a moment, apparently looking for something. Quickly, a sturdy man with brown hair and a twirled moustache walked up. “How can I help you?”, he asked the customer. The person did not show their face, instead doing their best to hide it under their hood. They replied, “Vagrant that I am, I'm looking for a place to stay for the night. After that, I'll be on my way again. Could you offer me such accommodation?” It was a male voice.
The gentleman cast a sceptical glance at the mysterious man who had appeared before him. But then he responded, “We're not a hospice, but theoretically we still have a room available that we could offer to you.” The figure could see the owner's fickleness and said, “I have more than enough money, if that's your concern.” He then immediately handed him ten sesterces, a sum that was clearly far too high for a single night's stay. This seemed to change the host's mind immediately and he allowed him to spend the night here. “I'll show you to your room later, when it's closing time, if that's alright with you.” - “Yes, that's fine,” the guest replied without further ado.
He then ordered a pint of beer. As he was already standing at the bar, the boss simply proceeded to tap his beer right away. While the golden-brown liquid was pouring into the glass, the cloaked man started another topic: “I have a question. Have you seen a lady with shoulder-length black hair here recently? She's relatively short and should be of an older age by now.” The addressee finished drawing the last drops of beer and after which he placed it on the counter. Only then did he look at him with a bit of uncertainty. “Perhaps. We have a lot of guests here and I can usually only remember my regulars. Why do you want to know that?” - “I did business with her not so long ago and the lady still owes me money.” You couldn't tell by looking at him, but the man at the bar didn't believe him. He simply replied, “I don't know of such a woman. Maybe she visited this inn, and I just didn't notice her, or she just didn't make an impression on me. As I said, lots of people go in and out here every day.” - “I see. Thanks anyway!”, the strange individual simply stated, took his drink and went elsewhere, over to one of the tables for the guests.
He chose one that had another person already sitting on it. He seemed to be a relatively pleasant fellow and, on request, allowed the guy to join him. The lad sitting opposite the visitor was also drinking beer, but a whole Mass. His well-trained body gave the impression that he was a warrior. But he didn't have a sword with him, a weapon reserved for soldiers, which unfortunately punched a hole in the theory of his profession. “Are you serving in the army?”, the hooded figure then asked, speaking the Ordanian tongue. “No, I used to serve, but now I work as a woodcutter,” it came back from the man, also in Ordanian.
Unauthorized duplication: this narrative has been taken without consent. Report sightings.
However, this occurrence prompted another question: “How do you know Ordanian?” The man who was addressed faltered briefly. Then he replied, “My cousin lives on the other side of the border. That's not far from here. We're still in contact from time to time, so I can speak the language quite well.” - “Makes sense,” his inquisitive counterpart replied and then added, “I hear there have been quite a few immigrants from Ordania in this area in recent years. That's true, isn't it?” - “Yes, it is,” his seat neighbour responded a little sheepishly. He gave the impression that something was bothering him. Of course, it was the curious questions of this stranger, who apparently was trying to find something out.
The aforementioned man now took a closer look around the inn once more. It was bustling with activity and a bunch of guests, who were mainly men, were chatting in a relaxed atmosphere. Nothing out of the ordinary. Well, then again, there maybe was something. He slowly noticed that most of the people here were wearing almost identical clothes. What's more, they all seemed quite, how shall we say, battle-hardened. Could they perhaps all belong together? That would make sense.
After a while of silently consuming their drinks and only casually chatting about the weather, the still cloaked man wanted to find out something else. “Do you know a woman called Petra? She has medium-length black hair and is rather short.” The interviewee shook his head. Once again, no useful information. Should he just carry on like this? What were the chances of success, if he asked one person after another like this? Probably rather low.
“What is that?”, it came from behind him. The man who was hiding his identity turned around and saw one of the guests holding a golden staff in his hand. It had been stolen from his coat when he hadn't been paying attention. “Give that back this instant!”, he shouted at him and immediately snatched the object from him. But it was already too late. This action had attracted the attention of a few others here. Several people were now staring at him as he made the thing disappear back into his coat. But then he concluded that this was probably the end of the line. He let out a short sigh. Then he threw his hood back in front of everyone present.
Wenzel revealed himself to the inn. Within a very short time, it became quiet, and all eyes were on him. There was clearly a great deal of tension among the people here. The emperor raised his voice, “I'm looking for a woman named Petra Vogt. I know she is here. Take me to her and you have my guarantee that nothing will happen to you! Don't do it, and you will suffer the consequences!” Immediately, a jolt went through the crowd. A wild uproar broke out and the first few began to throw themselves at the magician. He repelled them with his magic. Then he locked the doors. No one would escape.
What followed was a full-scale massacre. With great clamour, the rebels tried to attack His Majesty, but they were powerless against him. Most of them drew crude knives, trying to slash him with them, but in the entire circumference of the wizard, to both his front and back, he simply catapulted them off with a shockwave. He was merciless and his unfettered arcane power squashed his enemies. Neither the softer body tissue nor the bones of them could withstand this harrowing witchcraft!
In the end, only one was left standing and that was Wenzel. The walls of the entire room had now been repainted in red. The dye having been used here was a macabre one indeed. In front of His Highness, the last man left alive lay at his feet. “So, are you going to tell me where she is?”, his angry voice rang out. “Mrs Vogt is in the...” - “Keep talking!”, the emperor commanded impatiently, until he realized why the man had stopped. Behind him, a person had come up from the well-hidden cellar passage. He was a tall military man whose first name was Etzel. Despite being up to all the dodges, even he was not able to hide his shock at what he was witnessing right here before him. The game was over.
Bound and gagged, he locked the defeated Etzel and a man in pantaloons, who seemingly was his ally, in a tiny closet. He then led the woman he had been searching for into one of the back rooms of the inn. The Chosen One untied the shackles with which he had bound her hands and instructed her to take a seat on a chair that stood here. They were in the kitchen. All sorts of dirty glasses and plates were piled high all over the place, since the staff had all left in a hurry. That was perfectly understandable. Wenzel quickly grabbed a chair, that ironically had a few heart shapes carved into its backrest, positioned it opposite Petra and sat down just like her.
Her eyes peered over at him with a defiant expression. She said nothing. Not a word left her mouth as she was looking at the target of her vengeful desires. His crude black coat was covered in bloodstains. It wasn't his own blood. Finally, she decided to be the one to start the conversation: “How did you find me?”
“How did you find me, YOUR HIGHNESS!”, Wenzel corrected her. She grimaced at him. But when she realized that he was deliberately not answering her, unless she addressed him properly, she finally relented and asked her question the way he wanted her to. In his facial expression, one could not make out any change of emotion that her concession might have caused. He simply replied to her, “With a divining rod.” This information was of no help whatsoever. When she tried to ask what he had meant by that, he just returned, “It's not that important. Especially you shouldn't know about it.” So, she left the matter alone and moved on to the next topic.
“And are you happy now that you've caught me?”, she asked. The wizard seemed displeased by this statement and grimly responded, “Only when I have found Viktoria, will I be happy again. Because then I can start to mend the damage you have done.” In response, Petra played dumb and said, “Viktoria? I suppose that's your mother-in-law or your daughter. What does that have to do with me?” Naturally, she tried to convey her lie by putting on an appropriate act. It was worth a try, in spite of the fact that it was unclear whether he actually bought it.
In reaction, His Majesty wiped across his forehead. “Do you have no idea where she is?” The interviewee shook her head. As a consequence, he concluded, “If you really don't know, then I'll tell you what happened.” Thus, he continued to tell her not only about the incident of that fateful night, but also about the preceding events in the Karantian Forests. After he had finished his account, the lady was quite surprised, and that was for a number of reasons. Firstly, she had fully convinced herself that she was in for a violent, agonizing “interrogation”. The revelation that Wenzel was in fact only questioning her and talking in a relatively calm manner, came as a huge relief to her. Although this state of affairs was also insofar surprising, as the pale look he was giving her suggested, that he was under great stress. Actually, one would have to assume that he would be more volatile than usual.
The second reason, which had caught her by surprise, was now beginning to let an insecurity of titanic proportions well up inside her. According to Wenzel, his adoptive daughter, deeply disturbed and manic, had launched an attack on him for no apparent reason. However, she had previously confronted him with a ring depicting the seal of Melgar. Unfortunately, the man had not been able to recognize this object. When Mrs. Vogt heard about it, however, she was able to draw a connection to someone! She remembered that Lucius had occasionally played around with such a ring in his hand! Hence, she concluded that her accomplice had used a ruse here which he had not told her about. This meant that he had lied to her, at least in part, about what had happened in the imperial palace!
The original plan would have been to get Viktoria to murder her father in his sleep. That last thing she definitely couldn't tell the person opposite her, but she now told him everything else she had been mulling. Why? She was distraught and frightened, because Lucius had hidden the truth from her. “Please believe me when I tell you that I didn’t know anything about the ring. It was definitely the one Lucius always had with him. He was the one who orchestrated this whole thing. I don't know anything about all this! Achaz frequently went with Lucius on “hunting trips”, as they called them, which lasted all night. That's my actual level of information.”
Wenzel listened to all this, while continually stroking his beard. He stared into space for a while, intensively contemplating the tangle of contradictory claims. He also had to consider that Petra might be trying to mislead him with false information. What was true and what was not? “The boy...,” he could be heard mumbling at one point. Finally, however, he addressed her again, “Where is your son now?” - “I don't know. He disappeared the day the big events went down in the palace.” The magician seemed almost delighted at this statement. Immediately afterwards, it also occurred to the mother that there was something very fishy going on here.
His Highness now noted, “I have a theory. It goes like this: Viktoria was in such an upset state, that I have never seen anything like it from her. Her hatred was directed specifically towards me, and I had no idea as to why that was the case. She was in love with Achaz. And she came to me with a ring that she thought was mine.” As he spoke, Petra's eyes began to widen in horror. Slowly, she put the pieces of the puzzle together herself. “The only thing I could think of, that could have put my child in such a frame of mind, would probably be something terribly distressing that might have happened with her ‘crush’. Could it be that she found her boyfriend dead, and someone who always accompanied him on his 'outings' wanted to cast suspicion on me by leaving an object related to the Empire at the scene of the crime? In this way, he could have tried to create the ultimate conflict between the ruler and his heiress to the throne. Could that be?”
His listener peered in shock at the little stars that were now glowing in Wenzel's pupils. With all her might, she tried to suppress her feelings, but the very act of doing so made it quite easy for the emperor to see just how viscerally upset she was by what he had speculated here. “Wenzel is probably right in his suspicions,” she thought. She buried her flushed face in her hands. Wenzel paused and waited in silence. The outer facade crumbled only marginally, and she was able to stop herself from crying.
Nevertheless, the woman now started wailing, “How could I have been so stupid! I just believed him, that he had lost sight of him. I simply accepted such a stupid excuse! And I didn't question anything.” Meanwhile, the Chosen One had been caught off guard by this emotional outburst. It now made him re-evaluate her earlier words and recognize, that they were probably mostly true. He thought to himself, “Apparently, this was all Lucius' fault. I don't think it's likely that Petra didn't know about Viktoria at all, but it looks like she was the victim of some kind of intrigue herself. Or, well.... maybe she really was completely in the dark about what her son was being exploited for. Maybe. The likelihood of the very lad whose mother is feuding with us starting a relationship with my daughter behind her back, a relationship that was set up, and was intended as a revenge against us, is probably vanishingly small. Hmmm.”
After she had finished her thinking aloud, the sovereign finally addressed her, “If this Lucius has played such a big part in all this, would you mind telling me where he is?” The woman looked hesitantly to the side, but then replied, “I have no idea where he is. The last time I saw him was in Ordania. But he is also familiar with the two gentlemen you have detained here. He may also be on his way over here, but I don't know.” - “Are you sure about that? Don't you know anything else about him?”, he enquired. Yet, she insisted on this untruth and added, “There's a good chance that he'll come to this very area at some point, if someone waits for him here.”
Wenzel wasn't sure whether he should buy this. Petra, Etzel and the third person, who appeared to be a nobleman, were the only ones he had extracted from the secret cellar chamber. There was, of course, the possibility of the person in question having been among the other guests here, which could have inadvertently sent him to the afterlife. Then the whole thing would be moot anyway. For now, however, he would try to track this man down. “And what are you going to do with me?”, Mrs. Vogt then wanted to know. His Majesty simply answered her, “I'll think about it. Being quiet and not provoking me will certainly help you here!” She took his advice to heart.
While the lady took another look at all of the dead to confirm for her captor, that Lucius indeed was not among them, Wenzel went outside the door. He looked down the dusty road tapping his foot on the ground impatiently. “Where is this good-for-nothing!”, he said. Beside him, he saw that two of the inn's windows had been broken. A few people had apparently managed to escape in the confusion. The person Petra had spoken of could potentially be one of them. High above him, a cold, bluish light was shining down on the surroundings, coming from an orb of pure energy. The wizard had positioned it there as a beacon for the troops.
He went back inside. When Mrs. Vogt confirmed that the man he was looking for was not among the fallen, Wenzel brought the last two men still alive out of the closet. But before the emperor could even say anything, the army commander of the old regime spat right in his face. In response, he dryly remarked, “Are you that mad at me for merely defeating you with my sword and not even needing to use my magic?” What followed was a lengthy interrogation, during which Etzel in particular was wholly uncooperative. Wenzel was unaffected by all this. He questioned the men in a calm and collected manner, even though both sides truly abhorred each other. This was the first moment in which Petra began to understand how much the emperor was actually restraining himself. His mental fortitude and self-control impressed her, and she finally realized how much he had matured.
In the end, he also found out from these people where the camp of their so-called resistance fighters was located. The Baron would probably have given in at some point, but it was the lady who revealed it to Wenzel first. As a consequence, her allies were furious, but His Highness didn't care. At the very end, he attempted to read their minds. Placing his hand on the crown of Etzel's head, he concentrated. After just one minute he gave up and tried again, but this time with Petra. He got the same result and finally threw in the towel. As expected, the outcome for him was, that he could not penetrate the consciousness and memories of others, if they resisted him. It’s not as if he hadn’t already known that, but it was still worth a try.
Eventually, after far too long a wait, the cavalry arrived. Shortly before dawn, an entire regiment rode up, led by a man who was far too young. Alexander enthusiastically swung himself out of the saddle and hurried over to His Holiness. The latter met him with a disgruntled expression and said, “You are late. Very late in fact!” - “Forgive me, Your Highness,” the lad apologized immediately. “We didn't see your signal light straight away and I'm not familiar with the paths and roads in this mountainous land.” Wenzel didn't seem to give a fig about this. He simply replied, “Be that as it may. You have a mission anyway. There is an insurgent camp not far from here. His Most Serene Highness Lord Alduino here will lead you to it and you are to wipe it out. Do you understand?” - “Yes, my lord!”, the young Kuhn returned without any ifs or buts.
Then they already set off. The massive, mounted force that had arrived immediately grabbed the nobleman and had him show them the way to the would-be rebels that he himself had had built up. What irony. But unfortunately, the Baron had no choice. It was either this or the charge of high treason, which he was understandably not keen on. Etzel would not escape such a fate. That same evening, the emperor had him transferred to Meglarsbruck to be publicly executed. And what would become of Petra now? Well.....