“What?” Cythraul asked in response to Rupert’s gasp.

“There was a crystal like that in the woman’s tent, though it shattered into pieces. Here, look.” Rupert pulled out his handkerchief containing the bracelet and fragmented black crystal.

Cythraul looked at it and asked. “What is it?”

“I’m not sure,” Rupert responded. “When we investigated the tent there was an illusory array that prevented us for a time from finding the ashes. When I was inside the illusion, I touched the bracelet; though the illusion made it look different. I was shown a set of bizarre images and then the array broke.”

Cythraul rubbed his chin. “So, it has a paranormal effect?”

“I believe so. It must also be related to the necromancers that supported those two women. They’ve both had onyxes on their persons.”

“That makes sense,” Cythraul replied. “Pass it here, it’ll be useful in the investigation.”

“Cythraul, I want that crystal. I know you are going to begin an inquiry into the necromancers, but I want to investigate the crystal’s origins. I’ve encountered it twice now, and the first time I saw it, it showed me things that I suspect are important.” Rupert demanded.

Cythraul stubbornly looked into Rupert’s eyes, then relented. “Fine, I owe you this.” He passed the black crystal to Rupert who took out a pouch and put both the fragmented and whole black crystal inside.

A soldier walked into the tent and interrupted their conversation. “Lord Rupert, I have the list containing the confirmed casualties.” He passed on the report to Rupert.

The report confirmed the deaths of 34 officers, 14 guards, and 2 judges. This was a serious blow to the army’s strength. With so many adept officers being killed, Rupert would be hard pressed to replace them all quickly in the short term.

This would put House Honnen’s army under stress when they reached the frontier as they would be at a disadvantage in prolonged skirmishes against the frequent Praeteritum raids.

Rupert sighed in annoyance. “We have to hope that we can train some officers up when we reach the frontier, Cythraul. If we don’t, then we aren’t going to be much of a deterrent, but rather free game.”

“That’s something under your House’s jurisdiction, not mine. After I recover my Malevolent energy and complete my diplomatic task, I’m returning to Pentref.” Cythraul rejected.

Rupert glared at Cythraul, then snorted. “Fine. Come, we need to organise the encampment quickly so we can at least make some distance to the frontier today.”

They both walked out of the tent. Rupert commanded some nearby officers to begin preparations for the army to continue its march. Meanwhile, Cythraul called over a nearby soldier, a grim expression on his face.

“Find a messenger and tell them to meet me before we leave. I have a letter that I want sent back to Pentref.” Cythraul commanded.

The soldier saluted in response and disappeared into the encampment. Cythraul strode into a nearby tent and wrote a letter detailing these past events chronologically for Lucien Blodyn, the spymaster of Cymorth, to investigate.

After finally destroying the traitors within House Honnen’s encampment, Rupert, Cythraul, and the army marched into the distance. While they went towards the frontier, Isten travelled to Pentref, both moving in opposite directions.

———

- Many years in the future. -

Fire crackled, its flames dancing within a pit. Two children sat before it, one girl and one boy, and they listened to a man sat on an armchair. He held a book within his hands, unspeaking, as he fingered the pages. He settled on the right page and began teaching these young children.

“Cymorth was established as a country in the year 1023 under the leadership Awst Helygen, the aristocrats, and the Church of Cymorth.”

“Each of the eight great families slew a divine dragon, and from their corpse they made the country’s great heirlooms. Through this, they entrenched their divine mandate to rule.”

“The greatest of the mandates fell to the Helygen family, to Awst Helygen, the strongest man in Orbis. He supported each family in their quest to kill a dragon, and in turn they repaid him with the greatest favour of all; unanimously electing him as King of Cymorth.”

“With their divine mandate in place, they used religion to consolidate their power over the masses. The great aristocratic families were chosen by God to rule over Cymorth in his absence, their word was his own.”

“When religion failed, their brutality in using Malevolency to quell dissent was enough of a justification for their role in society. It was enough to maintain the separation of classes between the aristocrats and all of those below them.”

“After consolidating their power, the monarch and the aristocracy saw to suppress the Church of Cymorth; they were the biggest threat to undermine their legitimacy. Through making the Church’s hierarchy subordinate to the monarch, the eight great families had control over Cymorth.”

“They introduced brutal policies that resulted in an incredible imbalance of power in Cymorth, the most noticeable one being the neutering of Malevolency of the lower-class. Only members of the tripartite of powers could practice Malevolency to become a sorcerer.”

“The inability to resist through strength resulted in the lower-class becoming serfs, locked to the aristocrat’s manor farms, generation after generation.”

“Cymorth’s economy changed over time, moving away from the traditional sorcerer economy to an agrarian economy, which funded the aristocrat’s opulence.”

“The serf’s hard labour was spent on new architecture within Cymorth, never seen before in Orbis. A golden age of architecture began. It was labelled as the Gothic movement.”

“It justified the position of the aristocrats in their own minds, but that of the poor. Prodigious buildings that loomed over society reminded everyone of the power and presence of the aristocratic elites. Their stability and strength.”

“But it could not last…”

The man placed the book down and looked towards the children.

“That is all for today. Eryr, Edelweiss, you must return before they find you missing. Take some wood and an axe. They will not be harsh if they catch you when you’ve been doing chores.”

Disgruntled and dissatisfied, the boy and girl stood up, dragging their feet to the wood and axe.

“But we want to hear more! Now!” Edelweiss moaned, a pitiful look in her eyes.

“I know, girl. You will have to wait until next time,” the man shook his head. “I’ll be waiting.”

The children shared the load, sneaking out into the forest, before making a wide arc that took them into their town, towards their home. Back in the forest, the man still sat in the chair, though a skeleton’s hand now rested on his shoulder. He thought nothing of it, treating it as if it had always been there.

His image slowly blurred into the surroundings, as if his presence had only been a mirage. He was gone.

———

Within Pentref, Cymorth’s capital city, a debate raged on. It was carried out inside a tremendous building, its design oppressive, a firm a reminder of the strength and capability of the rulers of this land.

Two thrones were positioned to the north of the room, exactly in the centre. These thrones were encrusted with the greatest of crystals and metals, and depending on the angle, rainbows reflected from its grandeur.

To the east and west of the thrones, two ascending benches faced one another, separated by clerics seated in chairs. Gold leafs lined these oak benches, the finest of cushions covered the uncomfortableness, and the most powerful of people sat on top of them.

Contrasting the apathy of the monarch seated on his throne, those who sat on either side of the benches were animated and passionate to an extreme. In front of the monarch sat the speaker of the Parliament.

Those on the western benches were elected members of the aristocratic families, whereas those to the eastern benches were a newly formed class, the gentry, and bureaucrats.

“Order!” The speaker, Siarad, cried. Both sides of the aisle ignored his demand. They continued to scream fiercely at each other. Eventually, he was forced into channelling his Malevolent energy and vibrated the earth, forcing the men and women to sit.

“I said, order!” Siarad shouted. He finally quelled parliament into silence. “The item of today’s agenda is Article 5 in financing our Majesty’s war preparations against Praeteritum. I would appreciate it if we could stay on schedule.”

A man stood up from the east bench. He was a short, bulbous man, with a receding hairline and a reddened face. “We will not finance the Majesty’s war with Praeteritum until this House comes to a proper conclusion to the Church of Cymorth’s proposition of summoning God, the Creator, to Orbis.”

“My right honourable friend should understand that this House only discusses matters of utmost importance to our nation’s security and future. Why should this House discuss such a foolish proposition when our greatest adversary breathes down our neck?” An older man retorted from the west bench.

“If we summon God to Orbis, we will not have to consider national security,” a young woman argued from the east bench. “God’s trials have ended years ago, it was proven by our ancestors and founding fathers. With his return, humankind will no longer be in chaos as humans will ascend to the heavens to live with him in paradise.”

“Be realistic, woman!” A voice cried. It came from the leader of House Ilwynfen, Ceidol. “Summoning God back to Orbis will result in the destruction of our civilisation. We have yet to complete our trials, and thus will not receive any form of good will from our Creator.”

Cheers erupted from the west bench while the east bench fought back with shouts and jeers of their own. Most members were now reddened in the face, their cheeks puffed out, and their voice’s hoarse from the continuous shouting.

“I think that even the right honourable gentleman will agree with me on this, that the Malevolent magic system causes too much death in our world. After all, the greatest example of this is Praeteritum, who based their society’s social structure on killing each other for social power. Where we sought law and order, they sought chaos and anarchy! With the return of God, he will put an end to this. The Pontiff has promised that this will happen!” A young bureaucrat fervently argued.

“You are too idealistic! God created Malevolency in the image of the trials he suffered in Krieg. It was to symbolise his glory and honour. The scriptures specifically state this! Why would he have a need to change his perfect creation?” Ceidol Ilwynfen replied.

After this argument by Ceidol, a light shone into Parliament through the twin oak doors. A gentle, older man in a simple white garb and a silk mitre descended the steps and walked towards the eastern bench.

A unison voice erupted throughout the crowd. “Greetings to the Holy Father, Pontiff Innocent! Praise God!”

“Greetings, my children," the Pontiff waved his hands. "I am in a fortunate position that I have a special relationship with God which allows me to connect to him on a spiritual level beyond many others. I, too, once rejected the growing movement inside the Church to summon God for many of the same reasons. However, recently in my prayers God has made me aware that he would like us to summon him back to Orbis…” Cheers erupted in the eastern bench at the Pontiffs revelation. These cheers were joined by prayers from the bishops in the clergy seats.

“He knows that this is a huge undertaking. However, it is civilisation’s last great trial before we join him, for the better or for the worse.” Pontiff Innocent spoke grandly. He walked out of Parliament with shouts echoing after him.

Those on the eastern bench were overjoyed, while the western bench was stunned. The aristocrats were shaken by the comments left by the Pontiff. Slowly, the aristocrats on the western bench congregated to discuss the Pontiff’s message.