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The Afflicted
III. Et Fidelitatem

III. Et Fidelitatem

Slowly, the crowd grew. Drawn out of hiding by a curiosity of their apparent invaders and the movement of their fellow citizens, they wandered into the main square where Enzio had ordered a simple stage to be constructed. The whole of Granforle murmured; “Who are these men? What did they want? Are we safe?” Countless other questions swirled among the people who looked to their bound baron with an expression I couldn’t place. Relief? Worry? Concern? Possibly some gladness among a few? He didn’t strike me as a particularly blessed ruler.

My eyes wandered to the wizard, Loken, who stood patiently, slightly separated from the rest of the baron’s ensemble. His head was shaven like Carolus, an apparently common practices among mages, especially those who were trained at Dolinthamir. I had kept a close watch on Loken since we’d left the keep, and he in turn had his gaze affixed to Carolus. Did he recognize the old man? It wasn’t hard to imagine someone versed in magic having knowledge of the once-archmage-turned-expatriate.

Carolus, meanwhile, was busy preparing the project he’d spent the prior week slaving over. A small stand had been prepared for him on the stage where he’d placed a lead chest. His fingers danced through the air above the box’s contents and his lips moved wordlessly, twisting to form the harsh arcane words that made his will manifest.

Looking away from the old man, I folded my arms across my chest and returned to keeping an eye on the crowd like I was supposed to. They were peasant folk, the lot of them, save for a flash or two of dyed clothes and jewelry that marked the members of the small merchant class. Against the sea of brown, black, and stained, white cloth they stood out as much as one could. My eyes paused on one young woman with a dull red scar that streaked from one side of her face, across the bridge of her nose, to the other, forming a kind of chevron. It was largely uniform, a few small branches curling away symmetrically from either side. An affliction scar.

There were some here after all. How many others bore similar marks, I wondered? The plague did not fall as heavily to the southern reaches of the Empire, but some said that fact drew many who avoided the sickness. Perhaps survivors of the plague colonies came this way as well? Either way, Enzio would be pleased.

Refocusing on the crowd, I realized I had lost track of her while absorbed in my thoughts. No matter, I had faith she would come forward after Enzio’s speech.

Eventually, Durand and his crew returned with the stragglers from the city, herding them into the square. The mercenary gave a shrill whistle, and Enzio stirred from the stool where he’d been seated, collecting his thoughts. At some point while I was busy seeking out the baron, he’d put on his helmet. It was open-faced, but strategically hid his forehead.

“I know the last ten years have not been easy for you,” He began, pacing the edge of the stage. “I grieve as you for those we’ve lost. But this tragedy didn’t end with our family, our friends; not when we had to lay daughters, sons, sisters, brothers, mothers, and fathers into the ground. No! The plague took our freedoms with it. How many of you lie awake at night with empty stomachs and empty coffers? You toil and struggle to make just enough coin to pay your punitive taxes. And why? ‘To help rebuild the empire, of course!’

“That is, at least, what they tell you it’s for. It’s what men like him—” Enzio jabbed an accusatory finger at the baron, “—say to comfort you as they bleed you dry. I ask you to look at your baron and weigh his soul. Is he a good leader? Does he not inspire you; give you hope that tomorrow will be better than the last? No? Well, that is because he is but the King’s fool: his lackey. And while they force you to slave for your wages just so they can tax it, they collude with the church to steal the rest with mandatory tithes.

“My friends, mistake not my rhetoric; my hatred is not for the High Father, but for his corrupted mouthpieces tainted by their humanity. The Children of Scarlet have grown too worldly, intertwining themselves with the King in the name of power. It was their zealotry and the King’s blind servitude that ordered people to death by the plague. It was their piety that saw our fellows burned like bad crops. And do not forget that it was their hubris that rained down condemnation on those fortunate enough to come through the sickness scarred, but alive. Instead of comforting the orphaned and destitute, they excommunicated what they saw as a reminder of the High Father’s wrath.

“But I am here today to tell you those scarred, those that are the Afflicted, are not repugnant in the sight of the All-Seer, but blessed, for he has granted them power beyond men! Behold, Caedmon, who possesses the strength of ten!”

At my cue, I walked over to where an anvil had been fetched from a blacksmith’s workshop. With ease, I hefted it with one hand, drawing murmurs from the crowd. Then, I threw it from one hand, catching it in the other before sending it high overhead, letting it plummet though the stage. The wood erupted in a shower of splinters as the hunk of metal clanged against the ground.

“And what of you? Who are you?” A voice shouted from the crowd, directing it at Enzio.

Under my helmet I grinned at the deception. Enzio had ordered one of the men to shed his armor for plain clothes and stand in the crowd, shouting that after I finished my bit.

“I?” Enzio asked with a warm smile. Slowly, with dramatic flourish, Enzio removed his helmet, revealing his affliction scar. It was a vertical strip of the same dull red color the girl’s was, tapering to points at his hairline and the top of his nose. Six smaller branches radiated out from the center of the parent scar, giving it the look of a thin starburst. It was currently gleaming silver as brightly as I’d ever seen it: a sign of his power at full strength.

The crowd gasped, as his voice rang out once more, “I am Crown Prince Enzio Monquet, the true heir to the throne! And now I, the Afflicted Prince, have returned to claim my throne from my Father, who has wronged the whole of his Empire, Afflicted and Unafflicted alike.”

Voices clamored amongst themselves, questioning each other and directing some confusing at Enzio. In response, Enzio raised his hands, urging quiet, and silence quickly fell.

I could hear it now, the ethereal and seemingly omnipresent harmonious hum that accompanied Enzio when he began to sway others in earnest.

“Baron, I stand before you today with a chance to begin redeeming your wrongs against the people under your rule. I ask you; will you swear fealty to me this day? Do you swear to serve me as in the role you served my father from this day until I take the throne and all the days after?”

The baron’s face twisted, cycling through expressions of contempt and agreement. His will was fighting.

“Do the right thing, Fremont, fight with me for a better Empire, a safer one…”

Beads of sweat formed on the baron’s brow. He shivered as if a chill wind passed over him, before he slumped down, “Yes…I swear fealty…” he gasped.

“Well done,” Enzio praised, patting him on the cheek.

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Carolus then approached, holding the lead chest before him. “Now, I will give you a mark of your new allegiance,” Enzio said, retrieving a silver ring with a small blue stone from within the chest.

“Your ring,” Enzio requested, opening his palm for the baron to deposit his signet ring.

The baron slid the symbol of his station from his finger with a blank stare, his eyes unfocused and glassy. Enzio might have overdone it a bit there. He’d probably recover, in a day or two. In exchange for his ring, Enzio presented the baron with his new signet, this one enchanted by Carolus to “ensure loyalty” as he put it.

Soon, the baroness, the priest, and even the steward had joined the baron in bearing the rings adorned with blue stones. Each had sworn fealty to their prince, unable to refuse.

Then, Enzio turned back to the enthralled crowd, “Now, my friends, I ask you: will you too swear fealty to me? Will you help me fight the tyrant king? Will you take up arms for a better Empire?”

Cheers rang out and fists were raised, with every heart and mind now aligned with our cause. They were just peasants, untrained, but Enzio had just increased our manpower by nearly fifty-fold. He didn’t intend to wage a war against the entire Empire with a hundred mercenaries and a few thousand commoners armed with farming implements, but a proper army would be hand-delivered to our new doorstep in only a few days’ time if everything continued according to plan.

“I am humbled by your dedication to our cause,” Enzio continued, pacing once more. “But we will need to rally all our strength to best the foe we face. I have said that those bearing marks of the Affliction have been blessed by the High Father with powers beyond men; my blessing is the ability to awaken the blessings of others! So, will any among you who are marked with a reminder of that terrible plague step forward, so you can join the proper ranks of the Afflicted!”

Murmurs once again seized the moment as everyone looked around for anyone venturing forward. Slowly, a handful of individuals started pushing for the stage. “Yes, yes. Come forward and receive your blessing!” Enzio urged. I caught a brief glimpse of the girl from before winding her way closer.

Five plague-scarred individuals had joined us on stage; not as much as we expected, but it was a start. The first was a man whose scar seemed to form a band around his right hand. Carolus passed an amber stone to Enzio just like he had done all those years ago when they first crossed paths with me. The stones were small and covered with runic lettering. I didn’t understand exactly how they worked, but they always fascinated me.

Enzio pressed the stone against the man’s scar and whispered some words too softly for me to hear. The scar on Enzio’s forehead flashed silver, and the man reeled back, brilliant flames engulfing his hand. Panic gripped him, he recoiled from the expected pain, but with a word from Enzio he calmed, realizing that he was the source of the fire.

And then, I saw the wave of exhaustion pass over him, much like what had happened to me when my affliction was awoken. Some of the men helped him off the stage, taking him toward the keep.

The next four passed in a similar fashion; Enzio pressed fresh amber stones against each of their scars and flared his affliction. The second man suddenly grew what must have been three feet taller, surpassing me for a moment before he became faint and returned to his normal size.

Third was a woman, but not the woman I had spotted in the crowd. When she was awoken, the ground shook with the sound of breaking stone. I glanced over the edge of the stage to see cracks spreading out from under the wooden structure, centered on where the woman had been standing. The crowd had scrambled back, looks of fear and amazement on each of them.

The fourth was a boy younger than Kipp; he must have been only a toddler when the plague came. Nothing noticeable happened when Enzio placed the stone against his scar, but I was the same way. His abilities would become known in due time.

Finally, it was the turn of the woman I’d spotted in the crowd with the affliction scar across her face. Enzio pressed the stone against her scar, and a sudden wind blew up from nowhere, circling around her with such ferocity that she rose several feet into the air before drifting to the ground, the brief process leaving her exhausted.

I could see the drain on Enzio now as well, he had lost the fire in his eyes and looked as if he were on the verge of collapse. Rallying himself, he turned to the people once more, “And now, I ask you all to return to your homes and celebrate this momentous day, the day we raised a banner against the Empire!”

A collective roar emanated from every corner of the square as the citizens streamed through the city streets with the sudden urge to celebrate.

Everything turned into a blur after that: I helped Enzio back to the keep where the servants were put to work preparing a feast for us and the leaders of the multiple bands of sell swords comprising our small army. I learned the names of the five Afflicted who had joined us: The first man with the fire was Hynren. He was naturally tall and lanky with hair a mix between straw yellow and dirt brown. A small goatee gave his face a very pointed look. The second man who had suddenly grown was Bevirand. He was rather inconspicuous with a round face and average physique. The first woman who had shook the stones was Frela. She had blonde hair and a thin frame but notably seemed to greet everything with a smile. The boy had been sullen since he recovered. I still wasn’t positive what he called himself, but he was ruddy with a scattering of freckles. The woman I’d spotted, who had flown with the wind, was Vei. She still seemed apprehensive of everyone and said the least of the others while we ate in the baron’s great hall.

The rest of our camp in the woods was broken down in the meantime, with Kipp relieved to see us all in once piece. While he was helping me doff my armor, he admonished me for the dints and scrapes it had sustained, but I think he was secretly happy to make it gleam once more. He got to work at once using his ability to coax the metal back to being whole.

Enzio understandably retired early, I regretted not being able to speak to him properly after the day’s events, but that would be fixed on the morrow.

As evening sunk into night, I learned one of the chambers had been prepared for me, but I was soon disappointed. It had been months—nay—years since I had a night’s sleep in a proper bed, yet I had forgotten that almost nothing had been made for men of my size. Everything from my knees onward hung off the foot of the bed.

Still, I tried to sleep, listening to the quieting sounds of the keep. After nearly an hour of trying to force myself to be comfortable, I realized that a part of me missed the nights we—Enzio, Carolus and myself had spent under the stars, exchanging tales and banter. This was…lonesome.

Then, the idea to rectify two wrongs at once struck me. I made my way down to the keep’s garrison where the rest of the men were to bunk and found Kipp soundly sleeping in one corner. I quietly rousted him, drawing protests that I ignored. Before we left, I found my bedroll packed away in the supplies and returned to my chambers with the bleary Kipp in tow.

“Take the bed,” I said, unfurling my bedroll.

“What?” He asked, confused.

“The bed, it’s yours.”

Kipp looked between the bed and me, “Really?”

I nodded, “I can’t fit; didn’t think it should not be put to use, though.”

“Thanks, Caedmon!” Kipp said, jumping onto the soft piece of furniture. “This is so much nice than those bunks. But are you sure?”

“I’m sure,” I reaffirmed, “I’d be more uncomfortable on there than on the floor.” With my bedroll ready, I laid down, ready for some much-deserved rest.

“Hey, Caedmon…” Kipp said after a few minutes of silence.

“Mm?”

“I didn’t see any shrines to the gods as we passed through the city.”

“That’s because they don’t worship them here; they worship the High Father.”

“The High Father?”

“Mhm.”

“Who’s that?”

“A god, like Vetra, Uhgar, Ghaon, and the rest you’re used to.”

“The Empire just has one?”

“Mhm, and they’re pretty sensitive about it.”

“But…how can there be just one? Doesn’t he have too much to do?”

“I don’t know. They call him the All-Seer, though. Maybe he can do everything the ones in Orodia can.”

“How is seeing everything the same as doing everything?”

“I don’t know, Kipp,” I chuckled.

“Do you worship the High Father?” he asked after a moment.

“Not for a long time,” I answered. “The priests were who convinced the King that we were all evil, that we somehow defied the High Father’s will. After they started rounding us up and…and started…getting rid of us, I lost my faith.”

“So, he’s not a good god?”

“These people still think he is. At least, they think that he’s still powerful, too powerful to disobey.”

For a while, he was quiet. I thought he might have fallen asleep, but he eventually spoke up, “How long do you think this war is going to take?”

“I don’t know. A few months? Maybe a year or two.”

“And then Enzio is going to make everything right?”

“I know he’ll try.”

That seemed to be enough to satisfy him, but if he wanted to talk anymore, I wouldn’t know; sleep soon took me, ushering me towards whatever would come with the dawn.