I sit in the desk chair within my chambers quietly composing myself. I stare at a small hand mirror and exert my will over the figure that stares back. Such a weak looking face he possesses, his cheeks are hollow and dark rings encircle his mild grey eyes. The handsome shape and lack of markings make him appear noble, wealthy and weak. I convince this weak face to control what it hides from view. While the archbishop might not care for the condition his ward is returned to him in, Father Thomas would surely have some interesting speculations as to what happened.

The archbishop brought me a gift once, when he was just the red bishop, when father was still breathing and when I was only an odd boy who often puzzled his nurse. I don't know what prompted the man to show any kindness to me, Martin was expected to take the throne after grandfather back then, not me. There'd be little reward in attaining my affection. Perhaps grandfather saw I lacked friends and somewhere in that rotting degenerate heart of his he felt sorry for me and asked the bishop to fill the role my father was supposed to play for a few hours. Perhaps the bishop merely felt magnanimous. He gave me a bow and five bone arrows. It was quite clearly a finely crafted weapon, made from blackwood and the horn of some beast I never asked about and strung with sinew. The bishop gave me a quick lesson on how to shoot it and brought me hunting for the first time. Couldn't kill a thing due to the fact that I was five and only had a quarter hour experience with the thing and the bishop was a looming giant ill suited for sneaking up on anything with sense. Didn't matter much though, the bishop told jokes and I laughed at some of them, I asked questions and the bishop answered most of them. I embraced him before he left. He visited a few dozen times over the years until I reached the age of ten, then he simply stopped. Whatever the reason they were done those visits clearly stuck with me over the years and it is no lie to say the bishop could have been considered a friend. Now he's a husk, now he's a hollow man, a dead man.

Suddenly there are three swift knocks upon my door.

"Enter!" I yell, calmly disposing of the mirror,

The door opens and the archbishop's ward enters, navigating using a long thin cane, shadowed by two royal guards.

"Leave us," I command. The guards turn and leave without response. I hear the clicking of the lock after they shut the door.

"Sit," I order plainly.

"I'd rather stand-"

"You are a guest within my lodging, it is only right for guests to do as their hosts command. Now sit!"

The boy obliges and stumbles over to sit in the uncomfortable chair opposite me.

"I will ask this just once," I state. "Should I have to repeat myself I may lose my temper. If you lie to me I may lose my temper. Should you attempt to dance around the answer I may lose my temper. Should I lose my temper you will lose something in turn."

"Ask anything you wish and-"

"What did you do to the bishop?" I inquire bluntly.

"I've done nothing to him, my prince! I've only ever-"

I pick a glass up from my table and drop it on the ground. It shatters into many pieces, the noise shuts the boy up.

"Have you ever seen what a shard glass can do when you really want to hurt someone?" I inquire. "For something so brittle it's surprisingly dangerous, if you're not afraid of a few cuts to your hands you can send a man to his god with just a sliver of it." I lean down and delicately pick up a shard, about an inch in length. "Course you probably haven't seen much since you lost your eyes, have you?"

"I fail to see what this has to do with-

"Good thing I don't then! See this is an implication, a rather simplistic one that I'm sure I don't have to further explain. Now tell me what did you do to the archbishop?"

"Nothing he didn't want done."

"That's a lot of things," I declare. "Tell me how you managed to turn him into a creature not too dissimilar from a mould."

"I told him how to make the sacrifices required to achieve what he desired, he made them."

"So he desired to be nothing more than a book reader?"

"You can mock and jest his faith all you wish he's closer to the fire than you'll ever be-"

"And it appears the heat has cooked his fucking brain! While some find pleasure in simplicity, retardation is something most would consider too much!"

"You detest that you do not understand. He is greater than you will ever be and you fear it. You-"

"He has been sitting up in his chambers throwing fucking splinters in his fireplace for hours! I could slit his throat and he wouldn't even notice! I fear what you did to him but I feel rather safe about the man who can't remember to eat."

"You could burn him to ash and he'd still live eternally within the flames-"

"While his body will still be worthless ash. Now tell me how you changed the bishop?"

"I merely illuminated the way, he walked the path to the-"

"Did you drill into his brain with some special technique to avoid scarring? Have him stare at some false symbols for a few days? Brand one into him? Put a few drops of blackheart juice into his wine?"

"Why are you convinced that there has been foul play and-"

"Bishop finds you, Bishop becomes incapable of speech or even complex thought by the look of it and you end up speaking on his behalf and living a life of ease instead of suffering through life like most other impoverished blind orphans. Seems rather fortunate for you, doesn't it?"

"I repaid the archbishop with the knowledge of how to attain what he desires, now I merely watch over him as he makes the journey to purity."

"That's the third time you've tried to convince me of that," I point out. "Yet every time a variation of those words leave your lips I suspect it's just a way of saying I tricked him into doing whatever he did to himself."

"I can't control what you do and don't suspect-"

I stand up suddenly and lunge across the table at the boy tackling him to the ground. I press the shard of glass to his throat and begin to speak.

"I know you killed my friend," I snarl. "His body may walk but he's a dead man. Now enough dancing around the answers, tell me what you did to him?"

"I just gave him the materials and told him how to perform the ritual!" The boy wails. "He did everything of his own free will."

"Bullshit!"

Just as I'm about to mark the boy a little, someone starts banging on the door and fumbling at the trying to get it open.

"My prince!" A high-pitched voice yells, sounding afraid. "There's a matter that urgently requires your attention!"

"I'm currently occupied!" I yell back. "I'll be available in an hour!"

"It cannot wait, my prince!" The voice claims banging on the door.

"It can and will! Now as I said, return in an hour and I'll afford you an audience!"

Clearly the person on the other side of the door ignores this sound advice and the lock clicks as someone turns a key. I shoot up and when the door opens I press the glass to the throat of the first person who stumbles in, grab their shirt and I force them back out. It's a royal guard, his face is red and covered in sweat.

"I told you to leave us!" I yell. "What fucking good is a guard who can't follow such a simple order! Who barges into their superiors chambers without permission nor cause!"

"Forgive my prince!" The royal guard gasps out. "The matter is of extreme importance! You'd hate me for delaying its arrival!"

"Well that's a very confident statement considering that I was attending to a matter in there that needs doing immediately! A matter so important that its interruption could cost you dearly!"

I force the guard against a wall and press the glass into his throat piercing him ever so slightly.

"Your cousin my prince!" The guard chokes out. "He's awoken!"

"Well that's wonderful news," I say mocking a cheery tone. "That could have been delivered one hour from now and had little effect on it.!"

"He's holding a sword to a guard's throat, my prince!"

I pause for a moment, confused.

"What?" Is all that passes through my lips as I let go of the man and take the glass away from his neck.

"He's having an episode my prince," the guard furthers rubbing at his neck. "He's taken a guard's sword and is holding it to their throat. Says he'll kill the poor man if he doesn't see you immediately."

"Terrence is holding a man hostage?" I repeat slowly.

"Yes!"

"Are you mocking me?"

"No!"

"Terrence is afraid of violence. Bastard doesn't even like watching it, he's scared of fucking blood! A mere drop makes him retch!"

"Yet he currently seems more than ready to fill a basin with it if he doesn't see you!"

I curse under my breath and stop to think for a moment before grabbing the guard's sword and wrenching it out of its sheath. I turn on my heel and re-enter my chambers. The ward is scrambling round on all fours trying to blindly find his way out like a scared dog. I walk up to him and press the blade to the back of his neck.

"Should one word of our conversation escape this room a short war will be incited. You might inconvenience me here and there but in less than a year your dying religion will finally be put in the ground. It won't be a pretty one unfortunately, steel will screech, men will scream, blood will poison the dirt but after all the slaughtering, brutalising and torturing of your fire's followers I'll smile widely as I piss on the crumbling walls of the smouldering ruin of your church and fuck the prettiest girl I find right in front of your alter. Needless to say you won't last long enough to hear all of that but I'll be sure to send some of your knights down to whatever hell will take you to relay the information."

The boy whimpers meekly.

"Well said," I finish and slap the flat of the blade across the side of his head before leaving him to find his own way out.

"You also won't live to see that war should it be necessary," I say to the guard throwing his sword to the ground.

"My lips are-"

"They among other things will be removed from you with a knife if there's even whispers in the dark about this event ten years from now. Is my cousin holding hostages in his chambers or was he locked away somewhere else for safekeeping before he woke?"

"His chambers-"

I turn and hastily walk. I do not wish to be responsible for removing the greatest stain Terrence could possibly create.