Four years had passed since Bregorn and Conrad ascended to Excelus Heights together. The land was as prosperous as ever. The standard of living was high and the economy flowed like water downstream to be returned by the rains. The crops were bountiful, trade was without conflict, and business was only growing more secure. Solidarity and subsidiarity was a major part of the culture of the peoples of Crataekur.

Since those four years Conrad had been to the mountain and back several times. Each time he returned, it seemed that he became more and more not as himself; even to the point that some people started to see him as a threat. It started as him not participating in things people knew he loved, he refused to marry, which was bizarre for a man his age, and he started to become very pompous, declaring, "I am far more wise than you! I am a Burning One!" in arrogance.

On a mild and late summer evening, Bregorn and Mâr were in the gardens outside of the citadel. They sat on a stone bench facing the Blue Pillar. She drew the city and mountain before her on white parchment with charcoal. Bregorn, sitting next to her with his head against her shoulder and his arms crossed, watched her intently. He very much enjoyed watching the process of her drawings. They brought a different understanding to the beauty of the Blue Pillar and their city. She would often give them away to pilgrims that were visiting Viapacis.

A domaeling boy, perhaps 12 years old, approached them. He wore a dark violet robe with a white belt: the uniform of the Viapacian Acolytes.

"Lord Bregorn?" asked the boy.

"Sorry, acolyte. I'm afraid you have the wrong woman." Mâr said as she then looked at Bregorn with a growing smile.

Bregorn laugh and there was a short pause. The boy looked only confused and anxious.

"Yes. How may I serve you my friend?" asked Bregorn.

"Kunigunde requests your presence in the barracks, my lord. I know not why, sir, but it seemed urgent," the boy said.

Bregorn was not very concerned. What could be so bad as to make him panic?

"Thank you, acolyte." Bregorn said.

"I will stay here for a while. I will have to return to the shop by night." Mâr said.

"Very well. Would you like fish at Lake James tomorrow?" Bregorn asked.

"Without doubt, I am not needed at the shop tomorrow or the next day. I will come in the morning." Mâr asked.

"Goodbye, sweetheart." Bregorn said with a kiss.

Kunigunde was standing at the door, obviously trying to hold back tears. When she noticed Bregorn approaching, she ran towards him.

"Bregorn! Conrad is here and I'm afraid he is going to do something most terrible." Kunigunde said, "I dare not repeat the terrible things that I have heard."

"What? Why are you saying this?" asked Bregorn.

"I heard him inside the barracks. He said that he wants to free us from the grasp of the Creator. He has lost his mind. He is not speaking sense." said Kunigunde.

Bregorn thought this to be some cruel joke. He walked inside the barracks to see Conrad and his men, roughly one third of the royal guard. There was an evil in Conrad's eyes, the blue glow that Domaelings had in their eyes was barely visible. His men girded armor, swords, spears, bows, and rifles.

"Bregorn! Glad to see you, brother!" said Conrad with a smile.

"What are you doing?!" asked Bregorn.

"You should be glad, Bregorn. We are finally free! The arrogance of the Creatrix will no longer be our enslavement!" exclaimed Conrad.

Bregorn's voice began to deepen, "What?"

"Where is Kunigunde?" asked Conrad.

Bregorn was frightened and he began to lose almost all trust in Conrad. He looked back to see that Kunigunde was gone.

"Why do you ask?" asked Bregorn.

"Well, I would not dishonor her by not bringer her along on our great and noble task." said Conrad, completely calm.

"Conrad!" Bregorn said with a growing rage. "What are you doing?!"

"We are preparing to free ourselves, of course. You should get ready to go as well." Conrad said.

"Go where?!" asked Bregorn, becoming increasingly impatient.

"The Blue Pillar, dear brother. We will never be free as long as the Creator's Flower still lives." Conrad said with a disturbing haunt to his voice. Go forth and get your boots, Bregorn."

Bregorn truly refused to think that what he was hearing was real. He felt very clearly as if we were dreaming.

"You're frightening me, Conrad." said Bregorn.

"There is no reason to fear. You will see that life will be better with our own laws. Do you not understand, we will be the new law. I will be with you."

"I cannot believe you. What happened to you?" asked Bregorn.

He only demanded further that Bregorn retrieve his boots.

"I will not help you do this, Conrad. How can you expect me to? You have to be playing some cruel joke."

"Very well, you can stay here. Will you at least summon Kunigunde for me?" Conrad asked.

The queen suddenly burst in through the entrance with anger.

"Conrad! What is going on?" cried the Queen.

Conrad did not answer. In fact, he only smiled.

"He said he was going to destroy Creator's Flower. He has lost his mind!" exclaimed Bregorn.

"Yes, mother. We will be free. We will decide our own destiny. You will decide our destiny." Conrad said.

There was a long pause while Conrad and his mother stared at each other. She noticed the dimness of his eyes.

"What is wrong, my son. Surely, you are not thinking properly." said the Queen.

"I have never been so without a doubt of myself in my life, mother; and I am going to show you how serious I am." Conrad said as he walked toward the door. The queen stopped him.

"Mother, I know I am doing the right thing. I do not expect you to understand. I only ask that you trust me. Now, get out of my way." demanded Conrad.

"I will not move. Look at your mother!"

"Get out of my way, woman." Conrad interrupted.

The queen then slapped Conrad with the back of her hand with enough force to make him step back. Conrad rubbed his face with his hand and looked at it. Her ring made a red mark on his cheek.

He stepped up again and said to her, "Get out of my way. This is your last chance."

She slapped him again.

Conrad sighed. He grabs the back of his mother's head and unsheathes his dagger. Bregorn tried to push Conrad away but he himself was thrown to the floor by one of the guards. Conrad thrusts his dagger sideways through his mother's throat. The queens hands grasped Conrad's wrist.

"Conrad." the queen whispered with a whispered voice; barely intelligible, "What have you done?"

The queen dropped to her knees with Conrad's hands still grasping her head and the dagger. Conrad withdrew his dagger from the queen's throat and stepped to the side. She hit the stone floor face-first. Her blood pooled around her as Conrad wiped the blood from his blade with a rag and threw it on his mother's body.

"Mother!" Kunigunde and Bregorn cried.

Kunigunde rolled her mother over and put her fingers into the wounds to try to grab the jugular vein, but they kept slipping farther away from the wounds. The queen stared into the corner of the barracks blankly with half-closed eyes, occasionally twitching trying to take a breath.

Conrad ordered his men to prepare horses and then he knelt down next to Bregorn and Kunigunde at the queens side. "In time you will understand," he said calmly. Then he left the barracks. They ignored him in their focus on trying to help their mother. Bregorn and Kunigunde could hear them down the stairs and out the main doors.

“Get the surgeon, Bregorn! Go!” Kunigunde shouted with panic.

Bregorn did not bother to respond, He arose to sprint out of the barracks and down the hall and into the clinic. The surgeon was preparing drugs at his desk. Bregorn’s face was blood red and his expression was of extreme stress.

“Surgeon! My mother was just stabbed in the neck!” Bregorn screamed. It was barely intelligible to the surgeon.

Bregorn ran back to the barracks, not even checking whether the surgeon was following him. Back into the barracks, Kunigunde was doing chest compressions. There was a great amount of blood pooled on the floor. Bregorn paced next to her as the surgeon entered with a kit. The surgeon knelt next to Kunigunde and examined the wound.

“Her jugular slid up, I cannot reach it!” Kunigunde exclaimed in a weeping voice.

“Move!” The surgeon commanded. He examined the wound further, taking a small pause and then digging through his kit and pulled out a small knife and a set of forceps with rings around the handle. He examined the wound further and them made an incision about two inches above it. He then quickly grabbed the forceps and adjust them against his chest and clamped the vein.

“Princess, get the cord in my kit!” the surgeon commanded.

Kunigunde crawled over the queen’s legs and reached to the kit, dragging it across the floor to her grasp. She dug around for a few seconds before finding a spool of linen cord.

“Cut an arms length, princess!” The surgeon said.

The surgeon tied the cord tightly around and in between the rings. He took a moment to think. Kunigunde continued to sit by and Bregorn continued to pace. He put his fingers on the queen’s neck to examine her heartbeat. “Damn!” He exclaimed. He turned the queen flat on her back. “Lord Bregorn, hold her legs up; two feet above the floor. Princess, you must need to breath for her.”

Bregorn did as the surgeon commanded, using his knee to support her legs and Kunigunde blew into the queen’s lungs while pressing down on the wound. The surgeon began to press down on the queen’s chest, breaking her sternum after a few compressions. The servants of the citadel started to take notice of the situation and gathered in the barracks in worry. Some of them tried to help but Bregorn and Kunigunde pushed them away. The surgeon pressed down on the queen’s chest to his exhaustion. His face and his shirt became drenched in sweat.

It was perhaps an hour later, and the surgeon was unable to revive the queen. He stopped without saying anything, making a few short sobs. “There is nothing more that I can do,” he said, “she is dead.”

The horror of mass weeps responded to him. Several of the people charged to try to revive the queen themselves. Kunigunde, covered in blood, made herself into a wall.

“Get away from her! Stay her honor!” she shouted to them.

Bregorn backed up against the wall of the barracks. Reality for him started to break down. The walls that he was leaning against gave him the impression of fragility, like weak charcoal. Dizziness begged him to fall to the marble floor. He placed his hand against the white brick wall of the barracks, half expecting to fall through mortar. Crawling down the wall and sliding his feet away from the wall, he sat against it. Such helplessness restrained him as a hooked net captures one’s limbs. He sat and wept.

Over the next few hours, the keepers of the citadel placed the queen in a white linen shroud, and the word of her death spread through the city. There was a wailing heard through the street.

Kunigunde approached Bregorn, her eyes red from weeping. Seeking comfort, he grasped onto her. “Is this really my sister?” Bregorn asked himself. The embrace ended and she sat next to him. Bregorn already knew what she was going to talk about but he did not want to discuss it. “We have to do something about Conrad, do we not?” Bregorn asked.

“Yes,” She said, “I am going to talk to Sergeant Asher about how to proceed. Do you wish to assist? If you wish to stay here, there is no shame.”

Bregorn was afraid of that question. The philosophies of his childhood surfaced, ‘You have a duty to the good of the world. You must always do good and never do wrong. You must understand that what you do and what you do not do have consequences. If you do wrong, you make the world worse in ways that you cannot comprehend. If you do good, you make the world better in ways that you cannot comprehend. You carry great responsibility being a servant of the Flower.’ He knew it was the right thing to do. Not only is it his responsibility as prince to bring his brother to justices, but it was he owed it to his family and to the good of the world.

It was now very late in the night. Bregorn tied his boots very tight. His armor was well fitted but flexible. As he walked out of the barracks he looked at his dead mother once again with tears on his face. Her blood was soaked into the shroud that she was placed in. Several of the Matriarchs and Patriarchs wept beside her.

He still had the strange and vivid feeling of it being a dream. Now he was aware of the feeling. Distances looked distorted and color less vivid. He saw the same shades as always, but now he had no true meaning to them. Time seemed to slow. Yesterday now felt like a week ago to him. No words can articulate the sensation that was in infected his mind except for the churning in his stomach: a hole punched into his heart.

He then heard the creaking of the main doors to the minor hall. The heavy clanks of the door braces like hot metal struck on an anvil followed the creaking of the doors like a falling tree with a long reverb and echo. Knowing that it was likely the rest of the honor guard, he felt as if someone pressed their thumbs into his stomach and the bottom of his throat. He was hesitant to exit the barracks. He thought it best to stay at the entrance to the barracks and wait for Kunigunde to return. He sat outside of the doorway, squatting on the balls of his feet, and waited for several minutes.

“Arah!” he called out with a voice cracking whimper.

“Coming, my lord,” she responded in a complete weep from the barracks. She came to the doorway wiping the tears from her face with her wrists.

When Bregorn saw Arah’s face he felt his throat collapse in upon itself again. “Oh,” he said quietly, “Nevermind, Arah. It is late. You may retire to your chamber.”

“I cannot sleep, my lord. I would rather you give me work” Arah said and then gasped.“

“If you wish to work, I will give you some work. Otherwise, go and mourn for my mother as you wish. You are free to leave the Citadel as always.” Bregorn said.

“Give me work, sire.” Arah requested.

At this moment, Bregorn started to feel annoyed. In his sorrow, he did not wish to converse with anyone. He truly did not want to any of his servants or friends to see him in such pain. But it left him confused, He wanted someone to talk to, but there was nobody that he found appropriate.

“Very well. Go to the gardens and retrieve flowers for my mother. Lay them in her hands.” He said.

“How many flowers, sire? What species, sire?” she asked, her voice becoming calmer but Bregorn was annoyed that she had still not left.

“Get creative. Apple Blossoms, perhaps?” he said, trying to politely dismiss her.

“How many, sire?” Arah continued.

Bregorn paused and thought about the absurdity of the question. “Get three ties of twenty flowers. Get to work.”

Arah then left without saying anything else, feeling that she had offended the prince. Arah loved the royal family of Viapacis very dearly. She was treated well and compensated very generously.

Bregorn continued to squat against the wall. He pressed his eyes with his thumb and finger and his thoughts were not consistent. Over the next hour minutes that he would spend waiting, he would continue to lose time; sometimes forgetting how long he had been waiting.

When the time came, Kunigunde came up the stairs in a thin wool jacket under a leather armored vest with four flaps hanging from it protecting her thighs. On her belt, she carried a sword-like bayonet, a cartridge carrier, and a canteen filled with wine and another with water. Over her shoulder, she had slung a rifled musket. Her eyes and nose were red from mourning.

“It is time, Bregorn. Come with me to the stables. I will tell you the plan as we walk.” Kunigunde said, signaling to follow with her gloved hand.

Bregorn arose slowly with the heavy armor and equipment tied and buckled to his body. Standing, he was still for several seconds before starting to walk toward Kunigunde. Kunigunde placed her hand on Bregorn’s shoulder to guide him down the stairs.

“The people are saying that they saw Conrad and his men taking horses carrying barrels. Almost all the gunpowder in the magazine was stolen. It is clear he intends to destroy the Sanctum with it.” Kunigunde said, “He also has about half of a day of travel ahead of us. So this, Sergeant Asher and I planned. We shall take goshens to the far side of the mountain, taking the Kahrrexian Trail. We will attempt to ambush them on the fourth plateau. That will give us the most time to prepare while giving us breathing space for tactical withdraws. We must travel light as well. As you know, goshens cannot carry much. Now, are you able to do this? It would be unwise to place you in a position where your hesitation could condemn all of us to perfect wrath.”

“My mind is filled with doubt, sister. I have never been placed in such a place. I cannot say how I will react. All I can promise you is that I do not want to fail my people and family, or indeed most importantly, the Creator. I will try to do as I am told without hesitation.” Bregorn answered.

“Very well.” She said.

Bregorn and Kunigunde left the citadel with a deliberate walk leading their men to the stables: Fifty-two of them. The courtyard was mourning with screaming sobs; Domaelings and Deorlings alike. A little Deorling girl charged Kunigunde and attacher herself to her boot. Kunigunde knelt down to console the child as Bregorn took the lead to the stables.

The stables were silent. Even the animals seemed to mourn the queen’s death. They did not eat what was fed to them and some refused to leave their stalls. 20 other Honor Guards were there already preparing the goshens for travel. When Bregorn entered the stables, he stood aside and let the Honor Guard make their final preparations.

Kunigunde entered several minutes later. “It’s near time to leave, friends! I trust I need not tell you what can happen if we fail! Conrad cannot know what we are doing, although he is certain to have suspect us. No lanterns or fires at night; avoid smoke! Keep voices down! Keep your eyes low at night and if you have no use for them, blindfold yourself! You have ten more minutes to prepare!” she shouted to the guard in the stables.

"Will really have to arrest our own. Our friends?" A voice came from the back.

"Something has happened to our friends and there is nobody else but us to stop them. Do you realize fully what Conrad said he was going to do? What else is there to do? They armed themselves. We well have to stop them and defend ourselves at the same time. I wish I could say something else. I am just as confused as the rest of you. But we have to respond with what we know now. Do not hesitate. Our friends might thank you later, when we find out what has happened. If you think that you will hesitate to hurt your friends for all of our good, and theirs as well, stay here. Are you with me?"

“Yes milady!” they shouted back.

Kunigunde took Bregorn to the goshen that was prepared for him at the far end of the stables and left to converse with Sergeant Asher and some of the other captains. It had much darker fur than most goshens. It was as a black cloud with green eyes with an incoherent glow. The goshen’s soft fur covered tight skin and strong muscle and bone hard as quenched and tempered steel. It was named Eeria. Bregorn stood next to the goshen, his skin still being lacerated by the dream that he continuously tried to convince himself he was in. Eeria leaned her head on Bregorn’s shoulder purring as powerfully as a tiger’s growl, and deep as an organ pipe. Bregorn wrapped his arm underneath Eeria’s neck and scratched behind her ear while his mind was drifted into desperate attempts to answer questions that are not answerable by any creature. Time continued slowly. Despite the breakdown of his reality, he was impatient to leave. Perhaps he believed that completing the task that was before him would bring sense and order back into the world. Kunigunde and Sergeant Asher broke conversation and Kunigunde left the doors of the stable.

Sergeant Asher climbed up halfway up one of the supports of the stable and shouted out, “Honor guard!”

“Yes sergeant!” They shouted back in almost unison. “If anyone is not ready, speak now!” Sergeant Asher shouted. Not one voice replied.

There was a silence for about ten seconds. “Creator be with you all! Mount up and let us proceed!” Sergeant Asher said. Sergeant Asher fell from the pylon to the floor and mounted the goshen that was near him as the silents broke into sounds of footsteps, metal, and creaking leather.

Bregorn’s reality was only somewhat restored but doubt soon returned to his mind. The guards mounted their goshens. Those closest to the stable doors filed out first, the goshens legs violently kicking up the straw that covered the floor. Bregorn was last to file out. Eeria accelerated fast enough to almost throw Bregorn off of her. Eeria took Bregorn out of the stable, following the rest of the guard. Kunigunde, also mounted on a goshen, was waiting outside one of the stable and followed behind Bregorn. Leaving the walls of their home, they merged with the darkness of the night with great haste.