A shrewd figure strode through the dimly lit corridors of the royal palace, advancing through the evening hallways ahead of the maids lighting candles. Footsteps echoed off the stone walls as he crept towards his clandestine meeting with power. Viscount Blackwood held many secrets, building his power upon the trust of the highest echelons. Today marked the culmination of decades, a day that would forever alter the course of the realm’s history and catapult his name into the kingdom’s inner circle.
Torches cast flickering shadows on the walls, dancing across Viscount Blackwood’s face like specters. Mind racing with the gravity of his task. With every step he prayed that King Aldric would hear his words and trust. He had devoted his entire life indebting the King to the house of Blackwood, now, it was time to leverage that debt. To put their bond against the ultimate test of treason.
At the thought of treason Blackwood shot a glance backwards, finding the corridor empty of servants and guards. Exactly as his contact had promised. A tapestry hung in the corridor, depicting the God-King’s victory and ascension, Hands covered in the golden blood of the old gods. Blackwood slid the tapestry aside, pushing against the stone wall where the God-King’s bloody hands overlaid the stone.
The stones shied away from his touch, gliding across oiled stone hinges to reveal a narrow passageway. Wide enough for a single unarmored man to squeeze through, a painfully tight fit for a man of Blackwood’s width. Not wanting to dawdle, he threw himself into the passage, clawing at the walls to force himself through.
A stone door slid shut behind him, sealing the passageway from prying eyes. Blackwood groped the walls, relying on them to guide him through the darkness. Many moments later his hand fell upon fabric, another tapestry. Now was his moment of conquest, he inhaled a deep draught of stale air and pushed aside the second tapestry. In front of him sprawled the King’s third study, illuminated by glowing crystals and flames that burned eternally without heat. A room focused on the research and records of the kingdom’s magical artifacts.
His eyes met the stern gaze of King Aldric as he trespassed into the secluded chamber, heavy fabric swishing into place over the corridor behind him. The king, known for his stoicism, bore a look of grim determination. In the dim candlelight, their whispered conversation began.
“About time Viscount Blackwood,” King Aldric began, “We find ourselves at crossed-roads. A sacrifice must be made, for the kingdom’s survival. But there can be no stopping what we are about to set in motion. Are you sure Baron Green’s behavior warrants extermination?”
Blackwood’s eye roved across the room, thousands of books lay neatly on shelves. A desk separated the viscount from his majesty, covered in ancient books and unquantifiable oddities. Among them was a lead chest, a peculiar object.
“Undoubtedly your majesty, Green’s conduct threatens to undermine the very fabric of our kingdom. Whoring himself to every peasant and noble alike, seducing countless noblewomen including the Duke Hamilton’s wife. Then the curr had the audacity to blame Marquess Whitefield! The man sows discord between our great houses and contributes nothing! I humbly offer him and Greenwood fiefdom as the requisite sacrifice. Alas, I fear it is the only way for him to serve the realm.” Said Blackwood.
“The throne will not become involved with the petty squabbles of a count and his barons. What assurances can you give me that he was not selected because he pursued your own wife?” Demanded the king.
Blackwood nodded, his brow furrowing. “Your Majesty, I understand how it appears, but Baron Green has pursued every woman in his lands as well as those of his neighbors. They have attested to his poor conduct, bearing their testimonies to the chancellor. Should Green survive the winter, he will begin hearing our formal complaints in open court.”
“What? And parade your own wife’s infidelity in front of the entire kingdom?” Snapped the king.
“By myself? Never! The shame would kill me sire. But alongside a dozen barons and three viscounts… Well, the quantity speaks to the quality of his incubian talents. The fault cannot be with so many honourable nobles, it must lie with the dog who bewitched our wives.” Answered Blackwood, knowing he had struck the final blow.
“A dozen nobles all declaring their cuckoldry…” the king replied, tapping a stack of letters on the table beside him.
His voice carried a weight that mirrored the responsibility he bore. Cold logic weighed Blackwood, and found his maneuverings, sufficient. Not worthy of elevation, but neither had his scheming meritted a denouement.
“Very well, for his crimes against our peerage Baron Green will suffer the kingdom’s woe. But we must act with caution Viscount. What we are about to unleash can never defeat an honest soul. So saith Therun Taloc. Thus we, and I mean you, must execute a plan that is nine-tenths discretion and one-tenth fatal.”
The Viscount leaned in, his voice barely above a whisper, “Your Majesty, I have already made several sizable donations to the church. The priests Avignon and Mont St Michel are already with us, when the time comes they will condemn Green.” Said Blackwood.
King Aldric gave an approving ‘hmmmm’, prompting Blackwood to continue.
“The green wizards are also within our ranks, though it took a personall invitation to their families in order to persuade them.”
The king nodded at this admission, concealing a slight frown. Had his father felt the same rancid disgust that now plagued King Aldric?
“Surely a Baron can muster a dozen wizards.” Said Aldric, trying to conceal his true intentions.
“Green is a manaless dud, yet his lands are peaceful. There is no honor or reputation to be gained, and no female mages will entertain his employment. The only mage left in his barony is the failed sage Rhendal. An old man who hasn’t been seen in years. In fact, Rhendal’s beard was gray when I was still a young lad.” Assured Blackwood.
King Aldric nodded in approval. “Good. I weep for his people… alas it cannot be avoided. Let me show you the instrument of his destruction for you must be the one to wield it. Heed my words Viscount, we must be cautious in our approach. If Green turns the tide, he will come for your head first. And I will do nothing to protect you. The throne will blame everything on your house.”
Blackwood’s face darkened. “Your Majesty, I will ensure our triumph. My heir already moves against the baron, drawing him out of his keep. While he is gone my son will retrieve the mage priests and bring them to my own domain.”
King Aldric appeared satisfied with his response. “Very well. Here is the object of his annihilation.” He said, sliding the lead chest across the oaken table.
Blackwood found a key in the lock, turning it reverently to open the chest and recoiling from the paradox within. Dark light blinded him, illuminating nothing at all, yet it shone with a power that stung his eyes. Irrationally brighter than the sun.
“What is this?” He said.
“A shard of Pandora’s soul. That fragment contains all the ill fortune and undue suffering of our kingdom. Collected over the past forty years. We have prospered under my reign, but the shard is full, for the sake of our people we must empty its malice. Else the kingdom’s good fortunes shall be reversed.” Said King Aldric.
“Pandora? Surely you jest! That cannot honestly be a shard of slain Pandora!” Exclaimed Blackwood.
“Not only is it a shard of that accursed god, it is her heart, her eternal core. Therun Taloc himself could not conquer it. Or, he chose not to, leaving it as an heirloom to test any who might seek to claim his title. That is why I had to be certain of Green’s tainted soul. This shard will magnify the corruption in any soul who possesses it, consuming them in their own folly.”
Blackwood swallowed.
“Will his lands be swallowed in a cataclysm?”
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“No, Pandora’s heart will bring misfortune and summon demons, physical manifestations of the misfortunes it has absorbed from the kingdom.” Warned the king.
“How can I use it?” Pleaded Blackwood, clasping his hands together to avoid looking too eager.
“You do not. Leave its function to Grandmaster Renosipe’s designs. You need only bring it to your castle and lock it in your second tallest tower. I will be sending a squad of royal magicians to ensure it functions correctly. That is why you are here.”
King Aldric slid an inkwell and parchment across the desk to the viscount. Blackwood knew what he was demanding. Letters of recommendation, written in his own hand and sealed with his signet ring. Blackmail material that King Aldric could ‘find’ whenever it was convenient for the crown to dispose of Viscount Blackwood. A day that will never come, he thought, setting to work immediately.
“They will have full access to my lands and castle.” Said Blackwood.
He spent several long hours writing the letters, completing them and handing them to King Aldric for review before he dared sealing them. Time dragged on slowly, and Blackwood sought distraction by way of conversation.
“Out of curiosity, what would happen if Pandora’s shard was used on a righteous man?” Asked Blackwood.
King Aldric drummed his fingers on the desk, face darkening at the suggestion.
“Having second thoughts already?
“Perish the thought your majesty!” Replied Blackwood.
The certainty of his answer made the king smile.
“I will warn you once and only once. Do not attempt to use Pandora’s shard. No mortal man can tame her, neither could an entire college of wizards. Such was the case for the Kingdom of Baal.” Warned King Aldric.
Blackwood shivered, wincing at the mention of the once grand Kingdom of Baal, now it was a ruin, an ashen wasteland inhabited by unspeakable serpents. Once upon a time the Kingdom of Baal had been a duchy with a dozen port cities, making them wealthy beyond imagination. So wealthy that they founded a second college —a commoners college— and grew to rival the King’s own power. That was until their crowning achievement, when they sundered themselves from the continent, turning the duchy into a floating island, literally flying away from the kingdom.
Airships and portals had been used to maintain relations, until a decade after their departure when the portals ceased functioning, and no airships returned. An ominous warning, and one Blackwood accepted. Relief colored the king’s face at Blackwood’s silent fear, hoping the man wasn’t the fool Renosipe insisted he was.
“But, as a sign of the trust I am putting in you,” Began the king. “I will confide some knowledge. Pandora’s heart will test those near it with their own sins, should the shard be used against a righteous man and a sinless land, it will test them with the accumulated sins of our kingdom. A righteous son of Therun would find these challenges trivial, and grow stronger with each slain evil.”
“It has the power to make a God-King?!” Blabbed the stunned viscount.
“Absolutely. I hate this artifact, but when I asked the Grandmaster of fire, Aitercul Renosipe, to destroy it. He vehemently refused to try! On the grounds that Pandora's heart would be the catalyst for Therun’s heir. The madman even dared to speculate that Therun deliberately left the heart behind! As a crowning trial should Therun Taloc ever perish or be imprisoned.”
What in heaven above could slay a God? Thought Blackwood, accepting the concept of divine imprisonment alongside Pandora’s heart.
“A trial for the God King’s own mantle? Bah, tis Blasphemy of the highest order! Renosipe should watch his tongue or the Lord Bishop will have reason to use Teutenkhamen’s codpiece or whatever he calls that lightning grimoire of his. But hark, if an honest heart was all it took to conquer Pandora, then your majesty could become Taloc’s heir!” Exclaimed Blackwood.
“Only a fool would dare test himself with a dead god’s heart. No, I must die for the kingdom’s sins, seeking what has been forbidden would only bring our kingdom to ruins.” Said Aldric, shaking his head.
“I dare not provoke Taloc, when he carried me thus far. Besides, I could never live with the casualties it would bring. Even now my spirit weeps for the people of Greenwood. They will assuredly die painful deaths in battle. Regardless of age or sex.” Groaned Aldric.
“The needs of the many outweigh the needs of a few. It’s no different than sending a legion to war, many perish so a single noble might rise through the chaff. We sacrifice our weakest servants so the strongest assert themselves.” Said Blackwood, shrugging as he casually weighed the lives of men.
King Aldric’s face darkened as his doubts redoubled. This Viscount so often spoke the right words, but every now and again he said something that made Aldric doubt his intentions. All died when you cut off their head, no matter the quality of their spirit, and brave men were the first to rush into battle, dying while their cowardly comrades survived.
“Do not use Pandora’s heart. Grandmaster Renosipe has configured the crystal himself.” Ordered King Aldric.
Blackwood scoffed. “The blasphemer himself! In light of his influence, I shall call my bannermen to strengthen Blackwood Castle during these tribulations.”
Aldric was growing weary of Blackwood’s falsehoods, silently pondering if he should grant Renosipe’s wish and make Blackwood disappear… No, not yet, Brother Hamilton must be the one to slay him, the other nobles will never support us if two lower nobles die. They must call for our aid first.
“You are holding the evidence of our God’s divinity. It is not blasphemy, but a testament of Taloc, spoken by the ancient gods themselves. Come, my heart trembles, let us speak no more of evil. What will you do with Green’s land once he is dealt with? Monsters may still infest Greenwood after the heart has emptied its malice.” Asked Aldric.
“Sire, it pains me to admit this, but some of my serfs reject the Fulminonimbus. They will be the first settlers, alongside a substantial number of slaves that your majesty has been kind enough to grant me. Let the heathens and cats die, they should be grateful, for that is why Therun Taloc created them. Additionally should they fail, I will have a casus belli to summon the paladins.” Connived Blackwood.
Aldric’s face tightened at the thought of those holy knights fighting for a Viscount, Blackwood had indeed been scheming above his rank. There was no alternative now, Blackwood would die, the only question remaining was when.
“Hmmm yes, a cunning plan.” He said quickly, covering his murderous dislike.
“I thank you, your majesty.” Said Blackwood, bowing into the table to show his appreciation.
Blackwood you fool, do you really think your little army could conquer Greenwood? It’s already in ruins thanks to your taxes, Green squandered his fortune on booze and whores. Their roads are overgrown, he charges no tariffs at his single port, and the people have no respect for his drunken demeanor. By Taloc, what would it take to mold him into a decent man. Aldric scratched his chin, concluding that nothing short of Therun Taloc’s own lightning could set him straight
Blackwood pressed his signet ring into the last letter’s wax. King Aldric accepted the letters and turned way, silently dismissing the viscount. Blackwood bit his tongue and bowed before his face could redden from the insult. Now was not the time to lose his temper. He fled the castle, leaving through the hidden passageways that had brought him here.
“He is gone, you may speak freely.” Said King Aldric after several long moments.
A chair that had sat empty shimmered, and the grandmaster of fire Aitercul Renosipe appeared there, while another figure to his left appeared, covered in the trappings of the Lord Bishop.
“Blackwood is a buffoon. Rhendal is known to me, as my own teacher and Taloc’s divine sage! If he hasn’t died of old age then I would consider him a greater threat than all of Greenwood combined.” Said Grandmaster Renosipe.
“Ack, every time you cast that cloak of darkness I feel as though someone let the commoners in.” Groaned the Lord Bishop.
“Rhendal aside, I concur. Blackwood is a knave, he cannot distinguish between bishop and priest. Ha. The man also has clear designs on rising above his station. I suggest we alter Pandora’s heart to assail his lands as well. Let him feel Taloc’s wrath through the instrument of our enemy!” Said Lord Bishop Francois Pembroke.
“No. We have already rejected that plan Francois. Baron Green and only Baron Green shall bear the weight of Pandora’s heart. Are there any obstacles remaining to this end?” Asked the king.
“Baron Green is a man of few means, even with the peerless champion Arlet at his side I fear Pandora’s heart will overwhelm him too quickly. We ought to find excuses to position our forces closer to his lands.” Said Grandmaster Renosipe, stroking the stubble on his face.
“Ah ah! I am one step ahead of you Renosipe, missionaries have already been dispatched to Blackwood’s outlying towns, as well as to Marquess Whitefield’s lands to the east.” Heckled the Lord Bishop.
“Excellent work Francois, and a prudent suggestion Renosipe but one I cannot fulfill. Duke Hamilton, my cousin resides on the opposite side of Blackwood. There is no maneuvering within his lands. We will have to pray Blackwood’s sacrifice is enough to tame Pandora’s Heart.” Said Aldric.
Renosipe shook his head, already knowing Pandora’s Heart would sunder the kingdom. Perun Taloc had already declared it to be true, so it was.
“There are mutterings of Eclipsiarchs in his house.” Opined the sage.
“Preposterous! We have purged that damnable race from existence.” Snarled Bishop Francois.
“Hmm. Renosipe, I trust your judgment on all things mystical, your opinion troubles me. Prepare your forces, assume you will have to subdue several cat mages. Create a royal task force if you must, the same command goes for you Francois, the people must NOT learn of our treachery, or it will be all our heads. Make it happen gentlemen.” Commanded the king.
“So mote it be.” Said Renosipe.
“Such is God’s will, sire.” Said Francois.