In the early morning, Barcas, the Magister and Wizard-Judge of Tysos, responsible for maintaining order in the name of Emperor Carthalos, was summoned to appear before the Officium Imperialis. He had just returned from a year-long Trial, in which he had judged the people of Karis as unfaithful to the Undead Emperor, after which he reaped them all.
Barcas arrived at the council's palace, a massive structure with detailed arches and stained-glass windows, with hundreds of birds perched atop the great building. He rode in on his white warhorse, Pharnelion, clad in iron armor. Barcas himself wore black, solid armor that covered his entire body, marked with scratches and scars of past battles. His helmet was shaped like a terrifying skull, and it concealed his entire face. A dark-handled scythe hung from his back, and his longsword was sheathed at his side. He stood before the great wooden doors of the palace, which were guarded by ten imperial guards, all of them elite units of Tysos, but who were all dwarfed by the massive size of the Wizard-Judge, who stood at eight feet tall. As he walked past them, he inspected their equipment and posture, making the guards uneasy.
Barcas entered the council chamber, lit by torches up to the ceiling, with a crowd filling the floor, who bowed in utmost respect as the Magister passed. All of the Officiates, who sat above a great wooden stand, ceased their petty conversations and turned their heads toward him.
"Glory to you and to Carthalos," Head Officate Karnnon greeted him, in the customary way. Karnnon wore a long red robe, in contrast to the other Officiates white clothing. He sat in the center of the stand, with the others besides him. "We won't take much of your time" he said, starting his presentation.
"We have recently received reports from our spies near Aris that the heretics there have acquired an important piece of imperial property," Karnnon said, looking worried as he gazed down at the cold, expressionless mask of Barcas. "We would have asked the other Magisters, but they were still on their Trials."
"What piece of property?" Barcas asked, filling the room with silence.
"It would be..." Karnnon started mumbling, too afraid of the Magister, "It would be one of the Seeds."
The Magister looked down, thinking about how could they lose one of the most steemed and powerful artifacts of the Empire. And since there were only about five Seeds remaining and in the Empire's possession, losing one of them was not an option.
"We ask you to meet one of our spies, Katia, in Aris. There will be a Arisic translator waiting for you at the start of Merchant's road, he will make contact with her", Karnnon said awkwardly after admitting the loss of the object.
"Who was guarding the vault?", Barcas said, raising his head and looking directly at the Head Officiate Karnnon's eyes, once again filling the room with intense silence. "Let it be known that for such irresponsibilty, the penalty is dire".
"That would be Gryndell, the director of the Imperial Vault", Karnonn said, "We have brought him here, but our interrogators cleared him out of any suspicion."
"That I will decide myself" Barcas stated. "Gryndell, step forward".
One of the men standing in the council's floor stepped up and shouted: "I'm here, most honourable", while bowing down and looking at the Magister, who slowly turned his head to look at the man, which was clearly shaking. He was middle-aged man, with parts of his hair already silver, wearing a golden and red patrician's clothing.
"Come forward", Barcas replied.
Gryndell then rose and went to the Magister's direction, trembling and shaking at the presence of the Wizard-Judge.
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"Tell me, Gryndell, what do you know about the theft?", Barcas inquired.
"Five of my men standing guard late at night were butchered", Gryndell mumbled, "When I arrived at the vault, it was already too late, for they only took the one Seed".
"Do any of your guards still live?", the Magister asked.
"Only my head guardsman Kyron and two others lived", Gryndell replied, "But they are in a very bad state, as you can see yourself", he pointed towards the three man, all in clutches, with bandages over their heads and torsos.
The Magister then approached him, grabbing Gryndell's neck in a way that could easily kill him. Barcas then removed his helmet, revealing a quite handsome, but terrifying looking man, with a heavily scarred mouth. He then looked Gryndell directly in the eye.
"Show me the truth", Barcas said, reviewing the entire life events of Gryndell. After accessing Gryndell's whole life, Barcas came to a memory of him and the other three guards meeting a bald man by the name of Ordo, who had a huge scar across his face, something he tried to hide under his grey hood, which outed him as one of the northern hereticals. In the memory, Ordo offered Gryndell a flask of Vitalis, a very rare alchemic composition, made with dragonic blood, that could cure any illness. He offered it on the condition that Gryndell would let two associates of him to enter the vault late at night, disguised as archivers of the Empire, while to the guards he offered large sums of golds, for them to pretend to have been attacked. Gryndell accepted it, for he was desperate to save his young son, Marcus, who was born with a series of birth defects that shortened his life span considerably.
Gryndell and the guards opened the vault to the thieves, with the three guards killing the other men guarding the vault, and Gryndell himself opening the great safe. After which two cloaked and masked figures entered the vault, retrieving the box that contained the Seed.
Barcas released his grip on Gryndell's neck, who fell on the ground crying. The Magister then reached for his iron scythe, donning his helm as he prepared to carry out his judgment.
Gryndell begged for mercy while crying, "Please, most honourable, I did it for my son. I did not know what they would be taking".
But Barcas was unmoved. "You have betrayed the Empire and the Undead Emperor. You will now be cleansed." In one swift movement, Barcas slashed Gryndell's throat open, causing blood to gush out in abundance. Gryndell's spirit left his lifeless body and was absorbed by Barcas's scythe, marking it as the ownership of the Magister. The other three guards, now outed as faking their condition, tried to run towards the exit, but were quickly caught by Barcas, who grabbed the heads of two of the guards and smashed them together, causing both to explode. Kyron then unsheated his sword, standing in a attack pose in the Magister's direction, which slowly walked towards him. He attacked, but Barcas quickly grabbed the blade of his sword, crushing it with one of his hands, while using the other to stab Kyron's neck with his scythe, causing blood to flow over the floor. He then pounded his scythe's handle on the ground, making the spirit of all the dead men to be absorbed by it's blade.
The Officiates and the crowd in the floor stood in shock, exchanging some whispers amongst themselves, clearly shaken by what they had just witnessed. Karnnon swallowed hard, his throat dry. "We did not know, Magister, please, forgive our ignorance" he implored.
Barcas wiped the blood from his scythe's blade and sheathed it. "This is a council of fools", he said, "If I find out that the Officiates of this council have conspired against the Emeperor, I will kill every last one of you, personally".
"T-that would be very just, Magister", Karnnon said, trembling, while Barcas exited the council.
The Magister then left the building, and mounted on Pharnelion, making his way towards the Oracle of Tysos, to be read before his journey to the frozen lands of Aris.
Barcas dismounted his horse, tethering it to a pillar on the far side of the Oracle's building. The queue of peasants, soldiers, nobles, merchants, and people from all walks of life who were waiting to be read by the Oracle fell silent as they recognized Barcas. He strode straight to the Oracle's chamber, where she was reading a poor old woman. Approaching the old lady, he grasped the woman's shoulder and commanded, "Get out."
Barcas then extended his hand to the Oracle, a beautiful young woman with red hair and ghostly pale skin. She sat naked and blindfolded behind a large green flame.
"Peace to you and Carthalo, most honorable Magister," she said as she slowly removed his iron gauntlet, revealing a scarred, burnt hand.
She gently ran her fingers over his palm, holding it with her other hand and pushing it towards the flame, which did not burn him.
"May your eyes be guided," she said as she removed her blindfold, exposing her dark, hollow eye sockets that peered directly into the Magister's soul. He saw a vision of himself and two other Magisters, Ardwin and Horos, shackled in a dungeon. Horos was ravaged by frostbite, Ardwin had lost his right arm, and necrosis was setting in, while Barcas himself was being dragged out of the dungeon by two man-beasts. The Oracle quickly withdrew her hand, for she feared the existence of a person or group powerful enough to imprison three Magisters, thought to be the most formidable and powerful humans in existence.
"I-I'm sorry, most honorable," she stammered. "What has been seen cannot be unseen.", she then blindfolded herself again, remaining silent in the same place she was before.
Barcas donned his gauntlet over the scarred flesh of his arm. "The will of Carthalos will not be undone", he said to the Oracle before leaving her chamber. As he went to his horse, he thought about who could be behind such a grim fate for him, and what were their intentions. He mounted Pharnelion and rode down to Merchant's road, to meet the guide and translator the Officium Imperialis had arranged for him.