King Aldric sat in his private study. Specifically, the eighteenth study. A room Renosipe had never been granted permission into for it held all texts on the forbidden study of dark magic. He glanced around at the two lords present. The fireplace crackled, burning logs breaking as his silence dragged on. King Aldric leaned forward, the shadows from the fire flickering across his weathered face. He glanced at Lady Elara, her sharp green eyes glinting like cut emeralds, and then to General Harrin, his most trusted military commander.

“I’ve called you here for the opportunity of a lifetime.” Said Aldric, laying his bait.

“Every day is a unique opportunity to serve the king.” Answered General Harrin.

“Do you need a handkerchief to wipe your nose? I see you’ve got something brown on the tip.” Sneered Lady Elara, “Come now Harrin! We’re in private.”

King Aldric smiled at her, knowing Harrin only spoke his heart. The man was loyal to a fault, a trait that had earned his promotion above more cunning generals.

“How may we serve?” Asked Harrin.

“There is a traitor amongst us. We must curtail his power and then launch a pre-emptive strike to slay him and every servant beneath him.”

Lady Elara's lips curled slightly.

“A traitor now? What madness do you speak of? We are beset on all sides! Every day we receive reports of another town lost, or another city breached. No one is stupid enough to betray us now.” She snapped.

"Indeed," Harrin grumbled, his voice as hard as iron. "Tis madness. But I began to suspect a traitor when we lost Castle Rydon and the Whitefield Mark. Marquis Whitefield is leading his remaining soldiers and refugees south. But the defeat was avoidable. A delay in supplies kept the nearest crusading legion from reaching them in a timely manner. When I looked into the logistical error, it seemed reasonable, at first. Then I found Renosipe’s stamp of approval. He’d diverted the supplies and moved roughly a hundred personnel from the crusade. It was a simple thing, a small , unsuspicious act."

“But it held up the legion, kept them from reaching the Mark. With Whitefield gone we’ll have no way to contact the Northern Elves.” Interjected Lady Elara, her voice growing panicked as she put the pieces together.

“Grandmaster Renosipe has betrayed us? That’s- That’s insane! He represents half of the kingdom’s magic! I’ve read his books as a young girl, they were the lessons that taught me magic! King Aldric, sire, you can’t be–”

The King slid a stack of papers toward’s the woman.

“Lord Bishop Pembroke was gone for three years. So it was left to me to appoint and manage the church. During that time several truths became evident to me. Firstly, Renosipe is the one who unleashed a relic on Greenwood, his magic is the source of our portal plague and Pandora’s rebirth.”

Lady Elara’s green eyes calcified into lances. Her piercing gaze reading the evidence laid out. It was bulletproof. There were thirty letters from different scribes and bishops all confirming the same information. From a requisition order for a room in Blackwood’s castle, to the letter that released Pandora’s heart into Renosipe’s control. No individual letter was damning, for the headmaster of the royal college was worthy of the kingdom’s complete trust, but when combined the letters revealed a web of plots that stretched back before Aldric was born.

“Why?” Whispered Elara.

“I thought the same thing myself. Until Francois Pembroke awoke and gave me the final fragment to this puzzle.” Said Aldric, reaching under his desk and retrieving an orb of soft white light.

The item was recognizable to all three high lords, a permanent communication orb, able to convey a vision of a distant area. There were twelve in the entire kingdom, relics that now remained in the care of Archbishops. Archbishop Judas smiled at the trio.

“Ah, I see our time has finally come. Thaddeus, come here. Tell them of Lumiko.” He ordered.

The first Paladin of Kheresh bowed before speaking, “My lords and King. The house Kheresh has shielded at least one eclipsiarch from your reign, they have kept a powerful wind cat secret for hundreds of years, and maintained a bloodline of eclipsiarchs under the guise of a ducal harem. At last count, there were a dozen eclipsiarchs, in full control of their powers within Khereshetal. Furthermore, Duke Aliyar Kheresh has seceded. Medusa, yes the Medusa of legend, has annexed the city and laid claim to the Dukedom.”

The story has been taken without consent; if you see it on Amazon, report the incident.

“I swear this is true, on the holy name of Therun Taloc.” Said Archbishop Judas.

General Harrin and Lady Elara both leaned backwards in their seats. Crumpling under the assault of treasonous accusations. Worse, every ounce of evidence pointed to a conspiracy!

“Ahem,” Began Harrin, recovering first. “I’ve long been tasked with discovering methods of killing magi. An ongoing mission to maintain your rule. Captain Dorian’s outriders were the prototype unit, a field testing regiment. I hoped to never unveil this, but… I’ve researched firearms for the past twenty years. In short, I have a thousand modified guns. Replacements for Dorian’s pistols, but a new model as well, longer and more accurate. Though far heavier. It was dismissed at first, since they are only suitable for medium infantry. We deployed them in a few local rebellions and found them tragically lackluster. Until the siege of Curzon.”

Lady Elara nodded at the siege, remembering an affair when a few disgruntled beekeepers managed to take over the Baron’s keep and demand he dethrone the King. A preposterous affair brought about by a simple tarriff on candies.

“I wasn’t aware a siege occurred, did your men not storm the keep in a single day?” Asked Lady Elara, repeating the sanctioned rumor.

“Bah, another of Renosipe’s lies! We couldn’t even march there in a day. It took us a week, and only because we were testing the rifles against Baron Curzon’s fire magi, he was impressed with them, and planned to purchase a dozen of them. But the rebels took his keep and slew everyone inside. His six fat wives, twelve daughters, and every handmaid they found!”

“How dreadful.” Said Elara, opening a fan to cover the smile on her face.

Curzon’s harem had been well known as a decadent lifestyle, for while his lands were small, the candy trade had made them extremely wealthy. A combination of low noble standing and wealth made them uniquely positioned as the most eligible marriage in the kingdom, with a fire affinity calling women from across the continent to his bedchambers.

“Indeed, dreadful. Had to crucify half the barony to bring them back into line. Ran out of nails and had to use rope. But that was after we deployed our rifles. Medium infantry can’t maneuver well, but a keep isn’t going to run away from you. Ha, peasants only know the accuracy of a bow and arrow. They never understood we could put a bullet through their eye from across town. Shot right through their windows at nearly five hundred yards. Didn’t find out til after that the rebellion was led by four cat mages. Bullets killed them as well as everyone else.”

Judas let out a low whistle, his wrinkled eyebrows disappearing beneath a yellow cap.

“Damn straight! When we finally stormed the gates no one opposed us. Since we shot them all. But that was the old model of rifles, I’ve got a new weapon, shorter, lighter, but nearly as accurate. I call it a carbine. That ought to kill any traitorous magi.”

“Those are certainly impressive, but Renosipe commands the loyalty of thousands.” Said Elara.

“Indeed he does,” Said Aldric, “Which is why you’re here.”

“Me, I’m a nobody, I only have a few dozen men at arms to keep me safe.” Said Elara, closing her fan to reveal her face.

A smooth attempt at selling the lie.

“You’ve purchased every one of Renosipe’s books, and every one of Rhendal’s texts.” Said Aldric.

Elara shrugged. “Knowledge is power, there is no sin in preserving information.”

Aldric tapped his crown.

“Elara Camoys, Level ten sage, dark affinity level ten, fire affinity level ten, killing blow level ten, shall I continue?”

Her smiled pulled into a hard line, with green eyes darting between the four men present. They settled on Aldric’s pupils, dropping all pretenses.

“I’m not cheap.”

“I need you to kill every bishop in Pembroke’s cabinet, then cripple Renosipes’ retainers.”

“I’m not some kind of general store who offers bulk discounts! The more targets you give me, the higher my price.” Elara countered.

Aldric smiled. Sending a chill down the assassin’s spine.

“Name your price.”

The room fell silent, all waiting on her next words. While Elara considered refusing the task. Hunting magi was a guaranteed way to get burned. Hunting priests was even worse!

“Ten gold for each head, multiplied by the magi’s level. You’ll also guarantee that I have the first shot at each target. For every ten magi slain you’ll grant me an artifact from your own reserves, paid up front-”

“You overreach!” Snapped Harrin, hands falling to his sides. Closer to his sword.

“Don’t interrupt. Your betters are talking.” Said Elara, not bothering to look at the general. “My terms are not negotiable. We both know I can’t kill that many magi without your artifacts. Nor will I have the luxury of returning to Talocandel and collecting my payment at a later date, if I ever return.”

Aldric’s fingers drummed against the table. Dragging out the decision.

“You didn’t ask for a title.”

“Ha, a barony is enough attention.”

“You have a deal.”

Harrin’s eyes went wide. An outburst nearly escaping his lips. But the general held his tongue.

“How soon can you clear Talocandel of Renosipe’s magi?” Asked Aldric.

“Depends on which artifacts you’ve been keeping hidden from the world. If the rumors are true, give me a month.”

“My dear lady, the rumors are downplayed. If anyone knew what was contained within my vaults, there would be a rebellion.” Said Aldric.

And we have enough of those. Thought General Harrin.