Viscount Blackwood screamed in agony as the torturer’s blade bit into his lovehandle, opening his flesh like one might unzip their jacket. He thrashed against the chains that anchored his arms to the ceiling and feet to the floor. Yet his screams brought his tormenter no joy, and no sorrow. In fact, the hooded man did not react in anyway whatsoever to Blackwood’s pain, he did not slow, he did not smile, he simply kept the knife moving.

“Mer- Mercy Sire! Please have merc -AAaaaahhhhhh!” Bawled the man, his cries for mercy faltering as the blade finished its first stroke and the royal interrogator moved to the start of the cut, plunging the knife deeper into his extraneous lard.

King Aldric stood near the door of the interrogation cell, keeping his distance from the carnage. Several lamps burned softly, illuminating the six occupants and their grisly work. Grandmaster Aitercul Renosipe stood beside the king, standing in judgment over the failed Viscount. Two healers stood on the far side of Blackwood, using their magic to keep him alive no matter how much carving took place. A violent ritual of flaying Blackwood’s excess flesh. Aldric raised his hand and spoke.

“Leave us.” Ordered the king.

“As you wish.” Said the two healers, hurrying from the room with a haste that revealed their eagerness to escape the abuse of healing magic.

The royal interrogator robotically finished his cut, peeling away one of Blackwood’s love handles completely before he nodded to the king. Silently dropping the wet mass of fat into a bucket and exiting the room. He briefly paused, leaving his bloody knife and moist gloves on the table near his other instruments. Careful not to spread red ichor to his meticulously maintained tools.

Without a word he strode past the king and into the hallway beyond the cell, closing the door on his way out. Grandmaster Renosipe barred the door behind the king, whispering an incantation to seal the door from curious minds. Not that it was necessary, the door was solid oak, and thick enough that only the grandest of screams could escape its confines. But Renosipe had not attained the rank of grandmaster by counting on others or failing to ensure his success throughout every step of a plan.

“We will not be overheard.” Said Aitercul Renosipe, turning to face the king.

“Thank you Renosipe, now to deal with this mongrel.” Sneered the king, glaring at Blackwood with unadulterated hatred in his eyes.

“Mercy sire! I beg of you! I didn’t know- Couldn’t know! Green was the lowest of scum!” Blathered the chained man.

“You have no idea why I am cross.” Growled the king, slapping Blackwood across the face. “I should have unleashed Pandora on your fief! Your worthless hide should have been the first sacrifice to Pandora!” He shouted.

Blackwood wept out a feeble apology, one that the king did not bother to understand. After the procession of prodigious misfits had left the throne room he had been overwhelmed by the disaster that was unfolding throughout his kingdom. Dozens of nobles had suddenly lined up with questions and offers of aid, sycophants and honourable knights alike pledged to fight against the upstart or to serve the Lightning Lord, whatever the king desired they would do–

–So long as they had a chance at glory.

Aldric had dismissed them from his sight, closing his court early for the second day in a row. His only reconciliation came from his half brother –whom he publicly called ‘favorite cousin’-- Duke Gabriel Hamilton. Who had spent all night convincing Aldric not to execute Viscount Blackwood and the remaining Archbishops of the church.

‘Cousin Aldric, throw them in prison for a few days, let hunger and thirst temper their ideals. I will rescue our Lightning Lords. Taloc only knows what even we’ve done to have two of his messengers come calling. We have too many enemies as it is, we must leave the door open for reconciliation.’ Is what he had said, claiming full responsibility for the northern campaign and the troublesome prodigies.

Hamilton would take two weeks to ride home, his mages could have used a portal but the Duke did not believe his mages were above being bought, and refused the practice. Though he allowed them to carry messages home, rallying select bannermen for what he expected to be a profitable, albeit bloody, campaign.

“Sire, your rage gives me an idea, one that solves several of our problems at once.” Interrupted Renosipe, pausing to tap his chin.

“Don’t keep me in suspense. Go on man!” Snapped the king, irritable at the elderly conspirator.

“Pandora’s heart has not been performing as expected. After Lord Liam’s announcement I portaled to the heart. Ah, apologies majesty, but I am loath to inform you that it has drained less than one twentieth of its malice. Where my college’s calculations indicated it should have drained nearly a quarter of its strength by now.” Warned Renosipe.

“By Taloc’s teeth! How could you make such a mistake?” Exclaimed the king, already planning Renosipe’s vivisection.

“Don’t start Aldric, I warned you a Lightning Lord would cause unpredictable results, but two of them! Well, we are lucky that the kingdom hasn’t fallen, and that there isn’t yet a second glass desert.” Said Renosipe, shaking his head softly.

“The kingdom… Are we really in danger of being overrun?” Gasped the King.

“Undoubtedly. This is no longer Greenwood’s eradication, but the wholesale slaughter of the northern lands. We must increase the number and frequency of the portals, this conflict must spread to Blackwood and any other provinces that possess the will to fight.” Declared Renosipe.

Aldric staggered back as if struck, stumbling until the torturer’s table stopped him, supporting him with tools that had seen the blood of thousands.

“Why did you not tell me sooner! Do you mean to betray me to your precious Lightning Lord?” Shouted the king.

“Do not utter such foolishness! Not when you know it to be false!” Growled Renosipe. “Besides, we have already discussed contingencies, I have sent a wave of my best magi to stiffen the soldiers of Greenwood, and we have two dozen magi already in Blackwood’s domain. They report no fortified cities have been lost.” Counseled Renosipe.

“Thank God.” Said the king, closing his eyes and breathing a sigh of relief.

“No, thank me. Everything is still progressing as we planned, many people will starve to death this winter, alongside the monsters we will continue to summon. We have focused on creatures of fire and heat, creatures that cannot endure a cold winter.” Said Renosipe.

“Ah, I see, excellent foresight Renosipe. Though it is beginning to feel like Gabriel is walking into a trap. Do you have clever council for that hurdle as well.” Question Aldric.

“Indeed I do, we are facing resistance among Blackwood’s knights. It seems he has their families squirreled away or enslaved to ensure their loyalty.” Sneered Renosipe, scowling as if the words tasted foul.

King Aldric looked at Blackwood with a face full of disgust, as if he wished to burn the wretch to ashes then and there. He’d given the viscount exemption from imperial taxes, and permission to raise an army ten times the size of any other viscounty. Yet he’d stooped to taking hostages instead of cultivating a martial culture of warriors within his dominion. Blackwood was never worthy of his station, nor of ascension. He has always been a knave reaching for the stars. A fool.

“And you had the audacity to call Green scum. What manner of fool coerces his own knights!” Sneered Aldric.

“Quite right Sire, as for the solution it is really quite simple, we graciously forgive Blackwood, and send him home to rally his forc-”

“MADNESS! Give this picayune curr his lands? Have you lost your mind Aitercul?” Howled the king.

Grandmaster Aitercul Renosipe looked at the king with one eyebrow raised.

“Ahem. Once you give this… curr, his lands, we will unleash Pandora’s heart on his own keep. I can adjust the portals to summon beasts directly into ambushes set by his men, quickly expending the heart’s vigor. Should he fall then his line will end, should he survive…” Said Renosipe, voice trailing off.

“Then Taloc will have forgiven him.” Finished the king, nodding as he spoke, fully cognizant of Renosipe’s true meaning. “A sound plan, though Duke Hamilton’s safety is paramount. What contingencies do you have concerning him?” Questioned the king.

Renosipe frowned, unsheathing a sigh. “He was Francois’ responsibility. I know little of that man’s machinations, save for the paladins present in Blackwood and beyond.” Said Renosipe.

Aldric paused for a moment, musing on how he might turn this cat-astrophe into a gratuity. Fulminonimbus Paladins were present, as were Green and Blackwood’s peoples. Several options sprang to mind, insufficient on their own, but when combined with a dozen noble houses who opposed his reign there might be a way to salvage this cataclysm. Sending those half-loyal nobles to fight in Greenwood would drain their standing forces and treasuries, though it might enable Baron Green to meet dissenters. Yet, they would answer his warcry to support a Lightning Lord, then act as monster bait.

Stolen novel; please report.

“What was that fool thinking? Challenging a Lightning Lord is madness! Praise Taloc he survived.” Lamented Aldric.

“Indeed, he has yet to regain consciousness. Thankfully I was able to obtain several prewritten letters of his. Letters that command two separate orders of paladins to begin crusades. One to approach Greenwood from the east, and one to approach from the west.” Said Renosipe, with a sly smile.

“Ah yes, prewritten letters, He must have planned ahead. A cunning move to simultaneously protect Duke Hamilton, and reinforce Lord Green! Perfect! Truly you have managed to salvage a disaster Grandmaster! Though I find the loss of Francois’ Teutonic Codex to a cat supremely disturbing.” Said Aldric.

The catgirl, Nyanna or whatever her name was, had taken the holiest of relics from the castle, pilfering the master copy of the Fulminonimbus’ scriptures. No book was more dangerous in the hands of a cat than the lone copy of Therun Perun Taloc’s true journal. All other scriptures had been twisted to conceal humanity’s betrayal and imprisonment of their ‘God’. Equally concerning were the insights into Taloc’s lightning magic that were contained therein, a terrifying boon for fledgling Lightning Lords.

“Drag those Archbishops across the Kheresh wastes! What were those imbeciles thinking? Attacking the man they should have been serving right in front of the whole bloody kingdom!” Growled Aldric.

“Indeed sire, they proved themselves to be unworthy allies. Too focused on their dogma to think clearly. With their deaths and the arrival of one… No, –Taloc grant me strength–, two Lightning Lords. I fear it is only a matter of time before Lord Liam is crowned as a saint.” Said Renosipe, cursing under his breath.

Aldirc ground his teeth, grasping the table with his hands until his knuckles turned white.

“You are the grandmaster, you cannot believe that, that… that CAT is a Lightning Lord!”

“Is that what troubles you? The low leveled woman…” Mumbled Renosipe, stroking his beard as he thought.

Nyota’s levels had been easy to appraise, so easy that he had completely forgotten her values when he caught sight of Lord Liam’s class. “Father of God's Heir” and four affinities had been too much for him to process.

“Her name is Nyota, a level three lightning mage, a level three healer, and she has two levels into mana manipulation. Though I must admit, her power seems to exceed her levels dramatically, I suspect it has something to do with her full blooded heritage.” Muttered Renosipe.

“Shess jus a filthy cunt. Fukt er -self.” Grumbled Blackwood, slurring his words until he was bordering on incoherency.

“Watch your tone Blackwood, you were supposed to aid Greenwood if their defenses began to crumble too quickly! Green was in your custody! You could not have failed us more completely if you had betrayed us outright.” Chastised the King, balling his hand into a fist he punched Blackwood directly in the center of his face.

His nose broke with an awful crunch of moist cartilage breaking. The force of the blow sent him flopping backwards, held in place by the chains anchored into the stone ceiling and floor.

“Come now sire, we will give Blackwood the collar he deserves, and compel him to perform the duties he promised.” Said Renosipe, flicking a curious bolt of black mana at Blackwood’s face.

The mana hit his forehead and vanished into his eyes and ears, blinding and deafening the loathsome prisoner in an instant.

“Blackwood keep will fall, and when he dies, we will use that as the casus belli to call on the church.” Conspired Renosipe.

“The church? Not just the paladins? Renosipe, you cannot mean a crusade of the entire church! That would only hasten Baron Green’s ascension!”

Aitercul Renosipe smiled wickedly.

“Exactly, Lord William Green must be elevated, after all, he beat my best battlemage and your own Blade. If we are forced to oppose him, well, it would be better if we cut our own throats now. But… If we side with him, when we have a choice, then he might never suspect us as the cause of his tribulations. And we could use him to reunite the church after the Archbishop’s schism!” Promised Renosipe.

King Aldric sat on the floor of the cell. Overcome with his shock and grief. He had already given his entire life to the kingdom, had married a dreadful foreigner to bring peace to his lands, had let her bear his heirs and teach them the traditions of her pagan father’s as well as his own.

“It’ll never end.” He whispered.

“What was that?” Asked Renosipe, unable to hear his lord.

“Make sure Blackwood sees everything he holds dear slaughtered in front of his eyes. Tear down his castle, kill his knights, rape his wife in front of him. Find what is precious and see it shattered, from his childhood blankie to his favorite torturer, I want it all defiled. Now, wake him.” Ordered the King, regaining his composure as he accepted the battleplan.

Renosipe snapped his fingers, dispelling the magic he had used to blind and deafen Blackwood.

“These are dire times, and while you failed, Renosipe has convinced me you were loyal throughout. In honour of your fidelity, you will be given a second chance. Do not waste it like you did your first.” Ordered the king, rising from the floor and exiting the dungeon.

“Tha- Thank you- sire!” Stuttered Blackwood.

Renosipe accompanied Aldric as he exited the dungeon, walking with him through the grand marble castle. They stopped briefly to give instructions to the healers and interrogator concerning Blackwood’s fate and the slave collar that would enslave the duration of his existence. How it was to be twice bound and thrice welded with magic so that none could remove it without his head coming off as well.

With their arrangement’s made they continued on, King Aldric leading them through the palace, along winding corridors and narrow flights of stairs until they reached a balcony overlooking the grand entry of the court. Hundreds of citizens had come to gawk at the palace after a lightning bolt had struck without any rain in the sky or storm on the horizon. Igniting an endless torrent of whispers concerning a new Lightning Lord. Several ministers stood in front of a pile of broken glass, exchanging the worthless shards for the coins of stinking commoners. Aldric considered having them all vivisected from the walltops for daring to sell portions of his castle without permission.

No, i’ll send them all to Greenwood, let Pandora’s heart consume the ingrates. They did not value their position here, so they must learn to appreciate what they’ve lost before they die. Let them earn a few silver here, only to be torn apart in the frigid north. Ha. Thought Aldric.

“Look at them, I can see four bishops guiding their flocks towards a crusade already. Can you hear how they preach of righteous indignation? Without the heart consuming the kingdom’s ill-fortunes our crops will wither and die. Soon, as the seasons shift, the church shall be inundated with disillusioned souls, seeking purpose amidst the mundane trivialities of their existence.” Said King Aldric.

Renosipe glanced up and down the balcony, checking for any uncontrolled ears and finding none. Odd for a king to be unattended, despite their conspiracy. Aldric was power incarnate, but power was the fruit of loyalty. A harvest Aldric was quickly allowing to rot. He’d already lost the church and half his nobles. How much further would he decay before the college could no longer support him?

“Very well, I will go to Blackwood myself. We will see this through, but we cannot lose a Lightning Lord to starvation. Send enough food to preserve his household, give him every reason to feel indebted to you.” Implored Renosipe.

“I can send a few companies of Royal units. Captain Dorian’s Royal Outriders, and half the garrison under Gaius the fool Borgia. But the army proper will not be able to mobilize this close to winter. Can you survive until then? Can Lord Green and his pet really stand against the Queen of Hell itself?” Queried the King, directing the question more to himself than to renosipe.

Renosipe was silent for several long moments. Thoroughly pleased with Nyota’s ascension, and equally unimpressed by the king’s shortsightedness. He should have destroyed the heart, not embraced it, not brought it to Renosipe. Had that occurred, he never would’ve heard Pandora’s whispering supplications.

“He will serve the purpose Taloc gave him, we need only support him in that endeavour. To that end I’ve already sent my shadow magi to Blackwood’s lands. The slaves will be delivered to Lord Green as promised. We must deliver enough food to keep them alive, but not enough to make them strong. A challenge that becomes easier if we send them mouths to feed alongside the supplies. Do I have your permission to pursue the other Eclipsiarchs?” Requested Renosipe.

“My permission? Renosipe! You have my entire treasury! Track them down and castrate every last one, make sure the blame for their mistreatment does not fall on us. Diffuse it across the nobles if you must. Same with the church, blame those dead bishops wherever possible. Sully their reputations so thoroughly that the people refuse to utter their names; for fear of catching their curse. I dare not execute any cats or bishops for fear of lightning, but we cannot allow those mongrels to breed.” Groaned the king, gagging at the prospect of feline reproduction.

“As you command, so shall it be done, sire.” Said Renosipe, bowing deeply one last time before he left.

King Aldric let him go, knowing that his life would be easier if he leapt from the balcony and aimed for the marble courtyard four stories below.

Why did you curse humanity Taloc? Why did my forefathers not wait until you’d fixed the cats before imprisoning you? Is this your vengeance? Bah, as if you ever cared. Thought Aldric, shaking his head. Damn those cats, damn Blackwood, and damn Taloc for leaving that damnable heart behind!

He sighed, leaning forward over the balcony.

You are the king, have some dignity. Thought Aldric, finally retreating from the edge a pace.

You knew the day would come when you had to wipe out all cats or submit to them. This was predictable, and still I let Blackwood experiment. How could I have known he would produce an eclipsiarch! And a Lightning one at that! His entire household must die, there can be no survivors or witnesses. Maybe if we send every she-cat to Greenwood we can survive, we’ll have to send them unprotected though.

Bah, disaster after disaster, and it all depends on the Heart. Do not fail me Renosipe. You are my last prayer, the last hope for humanity to endure the coming wars. I pray your magic snips all of their balls and cleaves every pussy.

—

Therun Perun Taloc looked down from his silver prison, shaking his head at King Aldric’s puns.

“Disgusting conduct from a flop of a king. Oh Aldric, I’m glad you’re a conniving whoreson. Without your endless schemes I wouldn’t have a machine to stuff a Liam-shaped-wrench into! Ha ha, ah. Freedom will taste so sweet, I’m so tired of these chains. It’ll just be a little longer now, no more than a century or two. What should be the first thing I do? Maybe I’ll eat with my mouth, or find an eclipsiarch or two. Liam can keep Nyota, but if her grandma is still around… I wonder if her ears are still as fluffy as I remember them. Hmmm, even if they’ve gone flat and fluffless, we’ve got some catching up to do.”

Silently, he commanded the Tantalus to change focus, surveying the Kheresh wastes, and the Medusa’s flying island. Twas similar to his own prison, except in one crucially important diversion. The gorgon’s could steer.