Galvin woke up the way he always did, with a smug sense of satisfaction. Many days had passed since Knight’s Day, and he was enjoying being king. Rather, he enjoyed the perks and ignored the responsibilities. His father would get up early to meet with delegates and discuss the day’s business, but Galvin left them to their busywork while he slept in. Why would he waste his invaluable time on such petty issues as sanitation and the budget? It was their job to deal with menial tasks. Upon waking, his maids would dress him, all of them sporting bruises and solemn looks from suffering his repeated sexual abuse. He went through them quickly, usually killing them in bed. He’d demand a feast be prepared for breakfast, and if he was made to wait, someone would suffer for it. He’d eat his fill and have the rest disposed of.
Normally, all paperwork and responsibilities were shoved onto others, but today, he had business he wanted to tend to personally. It was a meeting with several high members of the church as part of Ziradith’s initiative to bring them back to the fold. The clergymen, once wearing the finest robes and jewelry, were now garbed in much more modest attire. Due to their financial troubles following the purge and losses during the tournament, they had to sell off many of their assets. However, they were in good spirits, for soon, all would be right with the world.
“Your Majesty, it is so good to finally be able to speak to you face-to-face,” said Cardinal Phelps with a politician’s smile. “All this correspondence via messenger birds makes it so hard to have a proper conversation.”
“Yes, it’s been a long time since we’ve spoken,” said Galvin. “With this, we can finally get things back to normal and reunite the kingdom and church.”
“It is a shame you’re the only remaining member of the royal family. It must be lonesome without your father and brothers.”
“Unfortunately, I’m too busy to mourn Lupin’s death or regret Seraph’s betrayal. All that matters at the moment is winning this holy war against the Profane and purging our blessed nation of heathens.”
“I couldn’t have said it better myself. We are ready to pledge our allegiance to Uther and work together to bring salvation to its people.”
“And can I count on your loyal subordination?” Galvin asked, his lips curling back into a foreboding smile.
“Of course, Your Majesty. The church and the kingdom must always walk hand-in-hand.”
“Ah, see, there’s the problem. Hand-in-hand implies equality, but that’s not what this is. You are here to serve me, for I am more than just your king. I have been chosen by the gods to protect this nation. I am their champion, their messiah, their living incarnation, and I expect you to respect me as one.”
The cardinals and priests looked at each other, hoping he was kidding, while Phelps lost his smile. “Your Majesty, while it is true that the device on your arm lets you call forth the Wassengel, I’m afraid that alone does not match the criteria for the… position you seek.”
“Yet it was enough for my brother, wasn’t it? The so-called ‘Light’s Emissary?’ I remember all of your little meetings with my mother, asking for her help getting closer to Seraph so you could groom him to lead your church. More than the church, you wanted him to rule the nation as the living embodiment of divine will, speaking on behalf of the gods to lead Uther into a better future. You never showed that interest in me, though. Ironic, isn’t it, that he’s lost his divine powers while I’ve gained my own?”
Galvin got up and began walking around the table.
“Even now, he is still so beloved that you’re working with the Wandering Spirit to help Seraph regain his powers while I was recovering from him trying to kill me. After he left, no one seemed to know where he had gone. It was all kept secret until I found out that you were involved, yet you decided not to tell me. Forgive my suspicions, but it almost seems like you want to use him to usurp my throne.”
“Please, Your Majesty,” Cardinal Phelps began as Galvin approached, “you misunderstand. We only wanted to restore Prince Seraph’s powers so that he could use his might to vanquish the Profane. The throne is, and always was, yours.”
“So you admit to aiding him after he directly contradicted me regarding the beastmen, doing all this under my nose? You couldn’t wait until I had awoken and seek my approval? It almost seems like you would go through with this whether you had it or not. Do you know what I think about this?” Galvin leaned close to Phelps, who was trying to maintain a brave face. “I think you’re a fucking rat.”
He then grabbed a letter opener off the table and began frantically stabbing Phelps in the face. Blood sprayed as the wounds grew in number each second, with Galvin laughing like a madman. The small, dull blade could not pierce his skull, but that’s what Galvin intended. He didn’t want Phelps to die in the first puncture; he wanted him to suffer. The other cardinals and clergy members jumped out of their chairs at the sight, with Phelps trying to shield himself, only for his hands and arms to get stabbed over and over again. Even after Phelps passed on, his face unrecognizable, Galvin continued stabbing him with manic glee, and even spat on him and beat the corpse with his fists. The church leaders could only watch in horror, fearful that they were next. Finally, he stopped and stepped aside to wipe the blood from his face.
“This feels like the perfect time to let the rest of you know I’ve made some changes. I’ve decided to bring back a loyal and powerful ally as Royal Executioner.” Galvin snapped his fingers, and the doors opened. Gradius stepping in, nearly breaking the floor tiles under his monstrous weight. “Gradius, to welcome you back to your old position, I have a task for you. One of these men will be the new leader of the church. It doesn’t matter which one, so I’ll leave the ***********ion up to you. As for the rest, well, I’m sure you know what to do.”
Gradius brandished his axe. “With pleasure, Your Majesty.”
As Galvin turned to leave, the other church leaders began begging for mercy and forgiveness, but he didn’t so much as spare a second glance, and once the doors were shut behind him, the slaughter began. Galvin returned to the throne room, where Tarnas was waiting for him.
“Where’s Berholm?” he growled.
“How should I know? The treacherous rat tried to kill me and then scampered off, fleeing into exile. Fortunately, I’ve filled the position with a better candidate, one who is actually loyal to king and country.”
“And I’m supposed to believe you? Mark my words, boy. If you’ve done anything to—”
“I am your king! You don’t threaten me! You don’t say no! If I declare something, it is always right, and anyone who disagrees gets punished! That’s what this crown means and, more importantly, what this manacle on my arm means. After all, I’m the only one who can awaken the Wassengel, or stop it once it is awake.” The threat was not lost on Tarnas. Just like Ziradith, Galvin was holding the city hostage. If he died or was robbed of the manacle, the Wassengel would rise up and obliterate Colbrand.
“You think the world will bow to your whims that easily? You can simply rewrite reality whenever it’s convenient to you?”
Galvin laughed. “Didn’t I just finish explaining that? Don’t make me repeat myself. Listen, this is how it works: I am a king and you are a pawn. If I tell you to do something, you do it. If I tell you to believe something, you believe it. You are here to serve ME, not the people, not the country, me and me alone.”
“Do not mistake me for some jittery young soldier or grinning sycophant! I act in the best interest of the country, of the world! I obeyed the previous king because I respected him and wanted to protect this country from evil. The only difference between then and now is that I have no respect for the king before me.”
Galvin gave a smug laugh. “Then you’re nothing more than a traitor, abandoning your oaths the second they get in the way.”
“As if you’ve ever kept a promise in your life,” Tarnas grunted.
Galvin sneered in response. “Adwith Tarnas, the legendary Light’s Emissary, nothing more than a disloyal rabble-rouser coddling the beasts he should be killing, disbarred from the knighthood for abandoning his duties. Your name will be mud.”
“I don’t care about my name. All I care about is protecting the people of this country. If I must discard my title, my honor, and my knighthood to do it, then I will.”
“I know you will; it makes you predictable.” Galvin picked up a scroll beside the throne and tossed it at Tarnas. “That’s a report I received earlier this morning. A small army of fiends made it past the garrison line and entered the country, scattering to spread havoc. Their numbers are unknown, but what is known is the death and destruction they’ll bring upon the land unless, of course, you go and stop them.”
Tarnas read through the report. “I trust the knights and military to handle it. I’m needed here, putting out your fires and cleaning up your bloody mess.”
“No, you’re needed where people are being slaughtered and evil roams free. Isn’t that your noble calling? Do you really think some average soldiers can hunt down and kill those monstrosities? They’re going to get massacred without you, and you know it, meaning every death that happens will be your fault. Your fellow troops, your comrades, they’re going to die cursing your name because you refused to help them.
See, that’s the great thing about your stubbornness and disloyalty. You can threaten to resign all you want, maybe even go through with it, but you’re still a slave to silly morals. Whether you’re a knight or commoner, I can still depend on you to fight the Profane for me. So what’s it going to be, old man? Are you going to stand around here, guarding some godless invaders from the citizens you’re sworn to protect? Or are you going to go fight against the Profane and defend the true sons and daughters of Uther?”
“And I don’t suppose that these fiends managed to sneak past the garrison using information from a certain spy here in Colbrand? All to get me out of the city?”
“I wouldn’t be surprised. This place is full of traitors and turncoats. In fact, there is one standing right in front of me.”
“Galvin, listen to me. Stop this madness before it’s too late. Nothing good can come of this. There is still time to turn things around.”
“I thought I made it clear that you don’t have a say in what I do. Now get the fuck out of my castle and do your goddamn job.”
Tarnas sighed in resignation and disgust, shook his head, and left the throne room. With him gone, Galvin decided to pay Ziradith a visit. Every day, even multiple times, he would go to her room where she was kept under house arrest and resume the abuse. Again and again, he raped her in each orifice, using every humiliating position and act he could think up. He even brought tools to increase her suffering, whether it was dripping hot wax on her tits or caning her ass until it was crisscrossed with welts. He’d experiment by inserting various objects inside her, acting out every sick fantasy. Ziradith did her best to endure, but Galvin’s maliciousness and depravity were unmatched. He took joy in her suffering, in the sadistic taboo he was inflicting on her, leaving no part of his mother’s body unviolated.
“Just hurry up and finish!” she’d shout as he’d thrust back and forth inside her, willing to accept yet another frothy creampie from her son if it meant he’d finally pull out and give her ass a reprieve. Yet, despite her misery, she was too proud to give in and take the easy way out. All she had to do was endure and wait, and eventually, the status quo would change, and she’d have more options.
After indulging in the seven sins, he would visit the arena. There, the citizens of Colbrand could indulge their thirst for violence. Unlike the fighting tournament, there was an admittance fee, but it was helping to pay for the continuous spectacle. Here, slaves and pursuers of fame were pitted against monsters and each other, with the crowds cheering as blood was spilled and lives were lost. Much like the gladiatorial era of ancient Rome, the arena displayed different forms of combat, from one-on-one matches to chariot fights. Magic would even be used to flood the ring for mock naval battles, with many warriors drowning in their heavy armor.
The day would always end the same way, with Galvin addressing the crowd with a speech, preaching loyalty and subservience to the kingdom, and violence and condemnation to beastmen, the Profane, and all who dared to criticize him. The citizens ate it all up, nourishing their fear and hatred with his nationalism. Out in the streets, beastman hatred was at an all-time high, and every step outside was a fatal risk. Adwith Tarnas and other sympathetic knights were making sure that no anti-beastman riots or lynch mobs were able to form, but they couldn’t be everywhere at once, and in their blind spots, individual acts of hatred and violence were propagated by citizens and condoned by Galvin’s loyal followers.
Meanwhile, at the Knight’s Sheath, many regular customers had forsaken the joint, wrapped up in Galvin’s anti-beastman vitriol, though there were plenty of new customers each evening. If anything, the girls had never received so many overnight guests. The fact that the Knight’s Sheath could still operate was a blessing. If not for Tarnas, Aithorn, and Elyot, everyone inside would have been rounded up and thrown in the dungeon. Because of the protection of the three knights’, the establishment was treated much in the same way as an embassy. None of the knights in the Loyalist faction dared cause trouble because they knew that if they drew blood, their own would be spilled. However, today was the exception, with Sir Rall stopping by with a royal decree and a smirk.
“As per His Majesty’s newest law, all unwholesome magic is hereby illegal in Uther. Elemental, monk, and warrior are allowed, but everything else is now a criminal act. Those found in violation of this ordinance will be arrested and have their homes and assets seized.”
“Spare me your nonsense,” Cyrilo fired back. “This is just Galvin’s way of criminalizing beastmen.”
“I am the Royal Adjudicator, and you will give me the respect I’m due if you don’t want to start bleeding from that smart mouth of yours. Besides, it’s not just beastmen. The next time your little songbird tries to brainwash the loyal citizens of Colbrand with his dark magic, his head will end up on the chopping block. You have until tomorrow morning to cease all illegal magic, you and your customers, or we will rip this place apart, snapping every nail and shattering every brick, and you will all be in chains. I will personally cut those cat ears off your head with a pair of shears. Have a nice evening.”
He left as smugly as he arrived, with Cyrilo going into her study and reading through the edict.
“They can’t really do this, can they?” Sophia asked, following her.
“Galvin’s the king; he can do whatever he wants, anything his demented little brain can think up,” Cyrilo muttered before crumpling up the parchment and tossing it aside.
“What’s going on?” The question came from Noah, talking through his clone projected from the harkonen gem. This was when he would usually check in at the Knight’s Sheath and make sure the two gems were still in range of each other. It was working well, but he could feel the signal weakening with each passing day. He was yet unaware of his approaching encounter with the leader of the Profane.
“Galvin just made all magic besides elemental, monk, and warrior illegal. Daniel, me, and just about every beastman and arcane magic user have been officially declared criminals.”
“What are you going to do? You need shamanism in order to counteract your aging hex, right?” Alexis asked.
“Yes, but it’s not just me I’m worried about. Rall specifically mentioned Daniel. They want to silence him because he’s one of our best defenses against attack.”
“A man who can pacify an angry mob is a fear-monger’s worst enemy,” said Noah.
“So what do we do? We’re still under the protection of Tarnas and the others, right?” Sophia asked.
“Tarnas is gone,” said Aithorn, standing in the doorway.
“Sir Aithorn, when did you get here?” Cyrilo asked.
“I’m never far off. Keeping a watchful eye on this place is my only real job now. Besides, there is little point in calling me Sir anymore. Most of my authority as a knight has been stripped away, the only remnant being that Galvin and his followers dare not arrest me.”
“To us, you’ll always be the valiant knight who fought on this very floor and stood up for us when the barbarians were waiting at the gates. You remain the example of what a knight should be,” said Cyrilo.
“Thank you, Madam. As I was saying, Tarnas had to leave. Apparently, a swarm of Profane crossed the border and has been wreaking havoc, and he’s the only one who can stop it. He set off to wipe them out.”
“Galvin probably gave the Profane the info on how to sneak in just so Tarnas could be lured away,” said Noah.
“That was Tarnas’s assumption as well, but the threat is real, I read the report myself. Like it or not, he is needed badly up north. At the very least, the afflicted area is far from where you’re headed.”
“With Tarnas gone, the riots and mobs will start again. They’ll come for us whether or not we follow the law,” said Sophia worriedly.
“Sir Elyot and I will still help protect this place and the other beastmen in the city. No matter what weight the king tries to throw around, not even he would be foolish enough to instigate a fight between gold-rank knights in the city streets.”
“It’s not about being foolish,” said Noah. “Galvin would welcome the damage and casualties, using it to justify even harder crackdowns. He wants you to fight back so he can paint you as enemies of the state.”
“Then what do we do?” Sophia asked.
“I suppose Daniel will just have to stop playing, and Cyrilo and all the other beastmen in the Knight’s Sheath will have to retract their animal features and assume a fully human form. I know it goes against shamanist teachings, but that’s the price of survival,” said Noah. “If that doesn’t work, I’ll do what I can to help.”
“How can you help? You’re just a specter,” said Cyrilo.
“I may not be able to throw a punch, but I still have some influence. If and when things go wrong, signal me through the harkonen gem, and I’ll step in.”
Lucius then entered Cyrilo’s study. “We got a situation out here. You might want to take a look.”
They all entered the foyer, where a customer sobbing at a courtesan’s feet. “Please, I swear! I’ll pay you the money as soon as I can! Just please let me stay!”
“What’s going on here?” Cyrilo asked.
“This man refuses to leave, and he’s not the only one,” the courtesan said. Looking around, Cyrilo and the others noticed the looks of fear and despair on countless men’s faces. They also noticed something else.
“Most of you are from Handent,” she muttered.
True, none of them were revealing their animal traits, but they all bore the ethnic characteristics of their northern blood. And it wasn’t just men. Plenty of women were trying to cover themselves and blend in. There were also local beastmen mixed into the crowd, wearing the same look of fear and hopelessness.
“Please, don’t send me out there! It’s a death sentence to be out on the streets with my face!” the man sobbed.
“Did you all come here to hide?” Sophia asked, drawing mournful nods from everyone.
“We fled from the Profane that destroyed our homes and ravaged our lands. Many of us were caught trying to get into Uther, arrested by soldiers to be slaves or worse,” one woman said, unable to make eye contact. “In the countryside and villages, people like us are hunted for sport. They’ll capture us, bind our magic, keep us in cages, and then release us so they can chase us down with dogs and horses. The men are killed and skinned like animals, while the women are raped and released so they can be hunted again. I was… caught… several times before I managed to slip away. But we heard of the Knight’s Sheath, a place where people like us are welcome, where we’d be safe.”
“This is a brothel, not an inn or a shelter,” said Cyrilo. “I’m sorry, but this place isn’t what you thought it was.”
“We know, but there is nowhere else. Even while hiding our true selves, the people out there can tell where we come from. They know what we are, and they show no mercy.”
One of them then spotted Noah. “Ralacad!” he exclaimed. Hearing him, the rest all shouted the same word in shock and joy, then rushed forward to bow at his feet. “Please save us, holy one!”
“What’s going on?” Alexis asked in shock.
“Ralacad was a nickname I received while working for Lupin. It means ‘blessed by the spirits.’ Shannon told people about what happened to me in Sylphtoria, and it quickly spread, but after Welindar, I didn’t know that there was anyone still alive who knew me by that name. Wait, are any of you from the spider prison?”
Several men and women nodded with tears in their eyes. “You fought against the Profane in our lands and liberated our people! We could never have made it this far without the gems you gave us, and we’ve heard stories about you since we arrived, how you spoke on behalf of our kind when the crowds wanted to kill us! Please help us as you did before! Ralacad!”
Nearby, Sophia turned to Cyrilo. “We have to help them. We can’t turn our backs on this.”
“Sophia, we have a hard enough time protecting just ourselves. We don’t have the resources to take care of this many people.”
“You have a giant mansion full of rooms and limitless diamonds! We can afford to help these people. What we can’t afford is to let the mob take them.”
“Sophia, we can’t just—”
She leaned in, grabbing Cyrilo’s arm and speaking with a low voice. “This all started because of us. This mess is our fault. You’re too afraid to admit it? Fine. But if you don’t help me protect these people, then I will scream what we did from the rooftop. We have to work hard for a better country since our actions made it worse.”
Cyrilo scowled, momentarily infuriated that Sophia would have the nerve to blackmail her, but that anger receded as she realized the truth in her words. She remembered what she had told Noah, putting a new value on her beastman identity as she saw how her people were persecuted. It was time for her to own up to everything she had done and said.
“Very well. Gather up all the bedding you can find. These people need a place to rest their heads.”
The next morning, Rall arrived with several knights and soldiers, ready to perform his inspection. Cyrilo met them at the door in her elderly form, unable to defy the aging curse with the new law.
“Well, well, well, looks like the bitter old hag learned to respect her superiors,” Rall taunted.
“I can see why Galvin let you be the Royal Adjudicator. You have the same broken personality as him, a cruel smile with no soul behind it, just an undeserving sense of entitlement. Correct me if I’m wrong, but your position came from the Rall family’s heavy financial support of the kingdom and knight program, correct? You didn’t earn your authority; your parents bought it.”
“And yet that authority is no less real. I could kill you right now, and this shiny little emblem here would make it completely legal. Now step aside, it’s time for us to clear out some vermin.”
Rall shoved his way past Cyrilo and led his troops inside, where in the parlor, all the chairs were occupied by sheltered beastmen. Their animal traits were retracted, but they kept their faces downcast. They were trying to come off as regular customers, drinking tea and liquor distributed by courtesans with serving trays, all perfectly human. Up on stage, Daniel was playing his guitar, but no magic was being released, courtesy of an enchanted wristband that sealed his mana, much like Noah’s shackles.
“As you can see, there is no “unwholesome magic” being performed here. The only unwholesome thing going on is your presence,” said Alexis from behind the counter.
“I swear, nothing by mouthy bitches in this place,” Rall muttered as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a spell card like the kind Noah used, one made of wood instead of parchment. “You can try to hide your deviant ways, but this can sniff it out.” He held up the card to the head of a nearby patron, doing his best not to stand out in the crowd, and the runes on the wood began to glow. “Ah, see? Here we go. We have a practitioner of shamanism right here. Arrest him.”
“Wait, but I haven’t done anything!” the man exclaimed as soldiers moved to apprehend him.
“Stop that! He’s not committing any crime!” Alexis shouted as she jumped over the counter.
Rall held up the card to other guests, the runes glowing each time. “So many criminals here, an infestation, and you’re sheltering them. Gradius is going to have a field day. Arrest everyone here.”
The soldiers dispersed to begin seizing people, and just as pandemonium began to erupt, Noah’s voice echoed through the parlor.
“Look what the cat dragged in!”
All eyes were drawn to him, standing in the doorway to Cyrilo’s study. She was next to him, holding the harkonen gem through which he projected himself. Upon seeing him, all of the courage left Rall and his underlings.
“No, you’re not here! You can’t be here!”
“I can be wherever I want. There is no door I can’t unlock, no guard I can’t cut down, no distance I can’t cross. I thought I made that clear the last time we met.”
Rall brandished his sword. “Stay back! I know you can’t summon that beast, not with all these people around! We’ve been planning for your return, planning on how to defeat you!”
“I can see the fear in your eyes, Rall. I can hear it in your voice. That’s a good reaction, the right reaction. You just now remembered it, didn’t you? How I put you in your place on Knight’s Day? I thought I made it clear who ranked above whom, and it’s nice to see that you didn’t forget it. You can still hear it in the middle of the night, can’t you? That scream echoing through every dark corner of your mind, waking you up? It’s not the basilisk screaming anymore; it’s you.”
“No, no, this is a trick. The witch is trying to deceive me!”
“Very well, Rall, I’ll level with you. I’m not actually here. This is just a spell that allows me to communicate with Colbrand while I’m traveling. The real me is out in the countryside. I couldn’t hit you even if I wanted to.” Noah walked over and smacked Rall’s face, but his hand simply passed through him. Still, Rall jumped back in shock. “Smoke and mirrors, that’s all it really is. But I don’t need to be able to hit you when I can just watch, listen, and remember. I can remember names, faces, and actions and record them in my memory so I know who to come after first when I get back.
See, right now, you’re still in the “forgivable” range, where I can see maybe not doing anything horrible to you when I get back, but you’re moving in a perilous direction, and if you keep this up, well, it won’t end well for you. So here’s what I suggest: take your men and never return to this place again, and I’ll be kind enough not to punish you later.”
“You really think I’m afraid of you?”
Noah put his illusory arm through Rall’s chest. “I can feel your heart racing. I KNOW you’re afraid.” It wasn’t true, he couldn’t feel anything, but it was a convincing bluff.
“Get away from me!” Rall screamed as he jumped back. He slashed Noah with his sword, succeeding only in damaging the floor. He tried repeatedly, realizing he could do nothing to silence Noah.
“Are you now starting to understand what I’m saying? After everything I’ve done in this city, are you starting to imagine what I’ll do to you and your loved ones if you keep this shit up?” Noah then leaned in, lowering his voice and reeling in his mana so only Rall could hear. “I know you have a wife, Rall. Miriam, I believe her name is.” The man’s face paled. “Whatever you do to these people, I’ll do far worse to her. You two can try to run and hide, but I will find her, and I will hurt her. I’m going to make her cry, I’m going to make her bleed, and she’ll scream for you to help her, but you won’t be able to do anything but watch. So, think carefully about your next act, because her fate depends on it.”
Noah returned to Cyrilo’s side, with his back to Rall. Rall stared at him, having lost all courage. Just as with the bounty hunter, it wasn’t Noah’s threat that scared him; it was the cruelty and malice in his words, telling him that Noah could and would do far worse than anything Rall could imagine. Ziradith Herald, the princes, the knighthood; after everything Noah had done, Rall understood that to ignore his words of warning was a hazardous choice.
“We’re leaving, now. Let everyone go, and let’s get out of here,” he told his troops. The apprehended beastmen were released, and Rall and the soldiers fled the Knight’s Sheath. Once they were gone, everyone clapped for Noah, thankful beyond words for saving them, even if none knew what he had whispered to Rall.
“There, that should buy you some time,” said Noah to Cyrilo. “I doubt it’ll stop a mob, but hopefully, it’ll keep him away for a while.”
“I don’t know what we’d do without you.”
“You’ll have to figure it out soon, because I’m not sure how much longer I can keep coming back like this.”
----------
Alexis woke up as she always did, with Sophia at her side. The window at her back cast the gray sky’s light upon her and their room, an almost deathly paleness, but the vibrant scarlet of Sophia’s hair reminded Alexis that there was still beauty in the world. After days of this dreary weather and the toil of life beyond their room, she needed that reminder. She dared a look outside, at the city crumbling, a city always looking to slice its nose to spite its face. As Alexis stirred, Sophia awoke, and the two got dressed and began their day.
Leaving their room, they walked the halls of the Knight’s Sheath, once smelling of gonlief smoke, fine liquor, exotic perfume, and lustful breath, but now heavy with the smell of the unwashed and destitute, the smell of fear and desperation. Many of the rooms that had originally housed the working girls were now being used to shelter beastmen who had nowhere else to go, the brothel serving the needy like a church. More and more were arriving each day, even children, and there were similar shelters scattered across Uther, with beastmen hiding from hateful eyes.
Down in the parlor, where overnight guests would usually enjoy some tea to help with their hangovers, refugees were being fed breakfast, grateful for their hot stew, spooned from a barrel-sized pot. It seemed like almost every meal was being cooked in that pot these days to feed everyone. Daniel was working the spoon this morning.
“You’re just in time; I’ve been saving the best for last, just for you two,” he said as he filled their bowls.
“Is that really the last of it?” Alexis asked.
“Yeah. We’ve been putting it off, but we need to resupply.”
Alexis and Sophia looked at their bowls, then at the two rabbit-eared children waiting behind them. They gave their food to the younglings, the growling of their consciences louder than their stomachs. They’d just have to eat later. The sound of the front door opening drew their attention as Aithorn entered.
“Sir Aithorn, what news do you bring?” Alexis asked.
“One of the shelters was razed last night. I could see the flames from across the city, and by the time I got there… the screaming had stopped. I don’t know how many died, and the perpetrators scattered before I could arrest them. Soldiers were pulling out charred bones by the barrel-full as I left.”
“My god,” Sophia gasped.
“Bastards,” Alexis hissed.
“Sir Aithorn, good morning,” said Madam Cyrilo as she approached, once more using shamanism to stay young.
“Good morning. I never thought of myself as someone who would step into a brothel, and now I visit here on a daily basis. True, the reasons for my visits are different, but I still can’t help but imagine the scandal if my kin in Sylphtoria were to find out.”
Cyrilo gave the smallest of giggles, worn down by mental and emotional fatigue. “I bet they would be happy, imagining the stern, straight-laced Leuca Aithorn enjoying some drink and revelry. ‘If anyone needs and deserves some evening companionship, it’s him,’ they would say, only to be disappointed to find out it was purely out of duty.”
Aithorn wore a modest smile, something he never used to do in this city, but some days were more difficult than others. “As Noah would say, they’d be glad I was expanding my horizons and meeting new people.”
Later that morning, Alexis, Holmes, and a few volunteers disembarked from the Knight’s Sheath with an empty wagon. They wore cloaks to protect them from the intermittent rain and hide their faces from anyone who would recognize them as beastman sympathizers. The last time they did a supply run, they were attacked in the street for that very reason. A perimeter had been established around the building with a fence meant to both contain the enemies of the state and protect them from violent mobs. Though Rall was keeping his distance, the fence received daily abuse from troublemakers, hurling garbage and screaming for blood and death.
Sympathetic knights and beastman warriors stood guard or manned the windows with bows and arrows. In the days since Galvin’s awakening, the ranks of the Loyalist and Noah factions had been solidified. Without Noah’s galvanizing words and warnings, almost the entire knighthood would be playing Galvin’s game. As Aithorn said, the knights siding with Noah and Cyrilo had lost most of their authority, and many had taken up shelter in the brothel and other hidden locations out of fear of being arrested for disobeying orders. They still wore their rings and emblems, remaining loyal to their country, but not its king.
Alexis and Holmes rode through the city, having lost much of its liveliness. Animosity and paranoia filled the air, with everyone suspicious of each other. “Look at everyone; they’re just bleak and miserable. They’re so eager to persecute beastmen, thinking that’ll solve all their problems, thinking that they can live with hatred instead of happiness,” Alexis sighed.
“It’s not just about the beastmen,” said Holmes. “As the attack on the arena showed, anyone can fall into the Profane’s clutches and turn against their fellow man. The enemy is among us, and unless you know who it is, everyone is an enemy.”
“You’ve been in the city a long time, haven’t you?”
“Over ten years.”
“Has it ever been this bad before?”
“Well, there was that summer when we were invaded by those flesh-eating locusts. Little bastards couldn’t care less about the crops, but loved to bite me in the ass. Honestly, right now, I would gladly drop my pants and let them feast if it meant everyone would go back to the way they were.”
As they spoke, a squad of soldiers marched past them, steely-eyed and stone-faced, constantly patrolling in search of Uther’s enemy. They roamed the city in relentless packs, instilling the belief that the kingdom had everything under control. Nothing would happen so long as everyone was kept under imperial watch. For now, the public believed it and welcomed the heavier policing, but by the time they’d wake up and realize what was really going on, it would be too late.
All of them carried the same wooden cards that Rall used to detect beastmen. Everyone they passed in the street was screened, and shackles were immediately slapped on when the runes glowed. Even animals were being checked, from livestock, to beasts of burden, to common mice, to make sure they weren’t beastmen fully transformed. Many had already been arrested this way, and Alexis, Holmes, and the men with them were checked multiple times on their way to the market.
The wagon moved past a new statue being erected, one of countless put up across the city, each depicting Galvin in some heroic pose. They were carved from expensive stone or cast from high-quality bronze, with rumors of solid gold and silver statues being made at the palace. It was a costly endeavor, and it sickened Alexis, having to see Galvin’s face every time she walked the streets. He was spreading like a disease. They drove by churches and temples, where priests lauded Galvin as the messiah, a god in human form, a lie consumed by his most fervent followers. Anyone who disagreed with the new doctrine ended up disappearing.
She and Holmes arrived at the market with a list of supplies and started to shop. Unfortunately, they saw many merchants selling the wooden cards or using them to check their customers to avoid doing business with undesirables. For their hatred of beastmen to overpower their love of money was a telling sign of just how bad society had gotten. None of the men with them were beastmen for this reason. In the best-case scenario, they’d be refused service. Worst case, they’d be attacked by an angry mob.
Alexis and Holmes bought everything they needed quickly, from crates of vegetables to barrels of salted meat, enough food to keep everyone at the Knight’s Sheath fed for a bit. Fortunately, money was no issue, thanks to alchemy. However, the pickings were slim. Because of all the violence happening in Colbrand, fewer merchants were traveling to the city, afraid of getting mixed up in the bloodshed, especially if they weren’t human. With imports and exports drying up, the economy was sinking, but everyone was too focused on wiping out the beastmen to care.
As they returned from the market, they passed by the arena.
“A friend of mine told me they’ve started torturing and executing lawbreakers in there for the audience,” said Holmes.
“You can’t be serious. Executions are only supposed to be performed at the dungeon, not made into a spectacle.”
“Any excuse to entertain the masses with more violence. They’ll tie prisoners to posts, men and women, and either let monsters feast on them, or Gradius will just mow them down with a fire blast. And, of course, you know what I mean by lawbreakers. Most of them are captured beastmen, unfit for use as workers or sex slaves, and accused of spying for the Profane or committing crimes without evidence. Others are just homeless people and beggars arrested for supposedly colluding with them. Then, of course, there are people like us, people who speak out. They don’t die well.”
They finally reached the Knight’s Sheath, sighing in relief as they passed through the gate. At least now, they were relatively safe. As the supplies were unloaded, Alexis went inside to see Cyrilo.
“We’re back, but with all these people that keep coming, I don’t know which we’ll run out of first; food or space,” she said, then paused when she noticed Cyrilo’s smile. “What’s going on?”
“While you were out, I met with an old friend, a sea merchant sympathetic to our cause. He’s agreed to take refugees across the sea to Ezeria. Well, he agreed for a price. The country south of there is ruled by beastmen like Handent, so they hopefully won’t be prosecuted.”
Alexis lit up. “That’s great!”
“Yes, we can finally offer these people a light at the end of the tunnel. The problem will be getting them to the docks undetected.”
Alexis mulled it over for several moments. “Instead of trying to remain undetected, maybe we should do it in plain sight, and I think I know how.”
The next day, a hundred beastmen refugees from Handent walked the streets, bound in chains and wearing rags for clothes. “Move, vermin!” a knight on horseback yelled while cracking a whip, with armored soldiers also standing by.
Bystanders nodded in smug satisfaction and jeered as they watched the slaves get herded down the street. Wherever they ended up was what they deserved. None of the fools were aware that the shackles were all unlocked, and in wagons at the end of the line, clothing, supplies, and diamonds had been loaded for transport. The men, women, and children from Handent hid their smiles of liberation behind looks of despair, pretending to be downtrodden slaves being herded to their doom.
They moved through the streets, free from harm, and any time they were stopped by knights, some forged documents helped clear the way. They reached the docks where the ship was waiting at the end of a long stone pier extending into the harbor. The living conditions would be cramped and uncomfortable, but compared to everything the beastmen had endured, it was a pleasure cruise. Besides, many of them could assume their smaller animal forms, requiring less space and resources, and allowing for more passengers.
As the “slaves” were ushered onboard, Lucius, borrowing Holmes’s armor, dismounted from his horse and coiled his whip, used for bondage play at the Knight’s Sheath. Similarly disguised in the armor of a soldier, Alexis approached and removed her helm. They had to do this while disguised, not using anyone from Noah’s faction. They’d be discovered if stopped with Holmes or Aithorn leading the charade.
“When Cyrilo hired you to be her bartender, did you ever think that this would be part of your duties?”
“Never in a million years,” he said with a grin. “Boy, am I glad to be wrong.”
Cyrilo’s friend approached, a dwarf of ample proportions with a thick beard and friendly smile. He extended his hand to shake Lucius’s. “Tell Cyrilo goodbye for me. But fear not, I shall return soon for the next trip.”
“Can I trust you to take these people all the way and not just sell them off?”
“My friend, I am a devout follower of Terranora and a strict devulist. If there is any merchant you can trust, it is I.”
“Right, right, you guys worship the very concept of money. ‘God loves me because I am rich, and I am rich because God loves me.’ That kind of thing. I heard it’s very popular in Vandheim because of all the gems and precious metals that they dig up.”
“Quite. Terranora blessed our land with great natural wealth, so that we might enjoy eternal prosperity. All methods of acquiring wealth are encouraged in devulism, unless they involve breaking an agreement. Devulist doctrine states that once money is exchanged, any deal struck is a binding vow, that, if broken, becomes a curse that follows you all the way to the afterlife. The profit I could get from these people is nothing compared to the value of my soul. Besides, Cyrilo is paying me so much I could buy and sell them three times, so I am VERY content with things as they stand.”
“Then we look forward to your return.”
“Not as much as I.” He then waved his finger above his head to signal to the sailors onboard. “Men, the sea beckons us to depart!”
The sails were unfurled, catching the breeze, and the ship pulled away from the port with its precious cargo. Alexis and Lucius stood on the pier, watching the vessel shrink in the distance.
“All my life, this is what I wanted to do,” said Alexis with a smile. “I wanted to help people, to save them from being oppressed and enslaved, to give them the freedom and happiness they deserve. Finally, I’m doing it. I’m finally making a difference, and it feels amazing.”
“It really does, doesn’t it? I’m proud of you, kiddo.”
Colbrand was still in social turmoil, but today was a victory. They returned to the Knight’s Sheath with hearts lightened by hope. Over the coming days, Cyrilo worked on setting up more transports to get the refugees out of Colbrand. She was well-funded and well-connected, with her sea-fairing friends lining up to do business. More and more refugees were coming to the Knight’s Sheath to hide, and now they had a way out. More than two weeks after Noah’s departure, he passed the limit of the harkonen gem, and though his insight and presence were missed, everyone at the Knight’s Sheath looked forward to exchanging good news upon his return.
Then, one evening, Alexis and Lucius set out to perform another escort. The tide was in, and the time was now. Another friend of Cyrilo was waiting for them at the end of the stone pier. They marched their cargo down to the docks, but they didn’t get far before they came upon a roadblock stretching across the main street. Knights and soldiers were lined up before them, waiting for their arrival.
“It’s a trap!” Lucius cursed.
“Did you really think we didn’t have the Knight’s Sheath under surveillance?!” Rall barked, standing ahead of his troops. “We’ve been watching you from the very beginning, and now you’re under arrest for harboring and smuggling enemies of the state!”
The refugees, frightened and surrounded, began to huddle together and panic.
“Rall, think about this. How do you think this is going to end for you once Noah returns?” Alexis asked, trying to keep calm and look for a way out of the situation.
“King Galvin has assured me that the Wandering Spirit is no longer a problem, meaning I can get back to doing my job as Royal Adjudicator. Soldiers, put some collars on these filthy beasts and take them to the arena! They’ll be good entertainment for tomorrow’s—”
An arrow from Alexis buried itself deep in his eye socket, cutting him off and ending his life. Lucius stared at her in shock, with Alexis similarly bewildered by what she had just done. Her body had moved on its own, and now that she had murdered a gold-rank knight, there was no going back. “Chain Shot!” she then cast as she loaded and released an arrow. She swung her bow, launching a volley of mana bolts that took out the line of soldiers and knights. “Run! Run to the docks!”
The beastmen discarded their unlocked shackles and took off in a sprint towards the water. Alexis climbed up onto Lucius’s horse and they rode after them, with Alexis shooting arrow after arrow at their pursuers. More and more troops were coming out of the woodwork, trying to round up the beastmen, and Alexis killed them all. It scared her, how her arrows managed to find the gaps in their armor, how they drilled fatally deep into the men’s organs with pinpoint accuracy, how easily they fell against her bow. These soldiers and knights should have been her allies, her comrades. As a silver-ranked knight, she was supposed to inspire and lead, guiding them onto the proper path and helping them fight for their country. Instead, she had to put them down like rabid dogs, each potential friend now an enemy, all because of Galvin’s poison.
They arrived at the docks, seeing their ship at the end of the stone pier.
“Keep moving! We’re almost there!” Lucius shouted.
The beastmen continued running, their bare feet clapping against the stone like tragic applause. They were so close, until a jet of fire, focused like a laser, shot across the water and struck the side of the ship, blowing it sky-high and killing all the sailors onboard. The beastmen were knocked off their feet by the explosion, and Lucius’s horse bucked him and Alexis off its back. She looked back to the port, seeing Gradius thundering towards them with his axe in hand and flames streaming from his helmet.
“TRAITORS AND VERMIN! ALL WILL BURN!”
They were trapped at the end of the pier with nowhere to go, and their only way off was blocked by the approaching juggernaut. Alexis began shooting arrows at Gradius, each loaded with all the mana she could infuse. They struck his armor, exploding one after another, but his defenses were too powerful to be damaged by any of her attacks. Still, she had to try. If she was going to die there, she wanted to die giving everything she had.
Gradius drew closer, building up power for another blast. Seeing him, the armored goliath charging, immune to her attacks and preparing to reduce them all to ash, her courage was extinguished like a candle in the breeze, and the mana burning around her arrow ceased to be. She didn’t want to die, and that fear ripped the ground out from under her feet. Then she realized the ground was gone because she was no longer standing on it. She was in the air, Lucius having shoved her off the pier. Her heart was beating so fast, but everything was moving at a snail’s pace. She screamed in refusal, reaching out as if to grab his hand. As she fell, Lucius simply looked at her with a smile.
“I’m proud of you, kiddo,” he said softly before being enveloped by flames.
Alexis hit the water and sank like a stone, weighed down by her armor, and continuing to scream with a pillar of bubbles rising above her face. The light of the fire above dimmed the farther she sank. She wrenched off the heavy plate mail, not even feeling the absence of air in her lungs, and caring only about getting back on the pier. She had to help Lucius; she had to save him. As long as he was alive, she could get him back to the Knight’s Sheath, and Sophia would heal him. She just had to move fast, and everything could still be okay.
Freed from the weight, she swam back up to the surface, where she could smell the stink of burning flesh and hear the screams of the refugees as they were slaughtered or seized. She tried to climb back up onto the pier, but the edge was out of her reach, and there was nothing to grab. Still, she desperately clawed at the stone until her fingernails peeled off.
She screamed and cried in desperation, unable to feel any pain but the one in her heart, but soon enough, she had to face the fact. Lucius was gone, and she had failed. All she could do now was return to the Knight’s Sheath before she could get captured. She began swimming back to the docks, her eyes stinging from the salt of the sea and her tears, and her bloody fingertips throbbing.
She reached the docks, gasping for air and grateful for the ground beneath her feet, but she didn’t have time to rest. She ran back to the Knight’s Sheath, doing what she could to avoid detection. She arrived to find it being raided, with refugees and courtesans being dragged out in chains. Fear gripped her, fear for Sophia and the others, fear so strong that she no longer cared for her own life. She stepped forward, about to charge in and free everyone or die trying.
“Alexis!” she heard a hushed voice hiss.
She looked to a nearby alley, spotting Cyrilo waving her over. She ducked into the darkness with her, her cold-addled body rejuvenated as Sophia wrapped her arms around her.
“I thought you were dead!” Sophia cried. Alexis couldn’t speak, needing a moment to process.
“Alexis, where’s Lucius?” Cyrilo asked. Alexis simply turned to her, her silent tears speaking the words she could not. “I see,” Cyrilo murmured, stepping back with her hand over her heart.
Alexis looked around, seeing Daniel and a few of the girls. “Is this everyone who made it out?” she asked, feeling like she had to pull every word out of her throat with a rope like a well bucket.
“There was no warning; they were on us like a wave,” said Daniel. “I managed to distract them with my music for a few moments before one of them threw a hatchet at me and cut the strings of my guitar.”
“We need to go,” said Cyrilo, unable to look anyone in the eye. “They’ll soon fan out and begin searching for us.”
Sophia took Alexis’s hand, bloody and aching, and they all took off in a run, disappearing into the night.
----------
The sound of rattling chains and heavy boots echoed through the dungeon, followed by the jingling of keys, the creaking of unoiled hinges, and a pained grunt as a body hit the floor.
“Fucking pointy-eared bastard. Hard to look down your nose at us now, isn’t it?” a guard laughed before slamming the door shut.
Aithorn groaned and sat up, trying to blow his hair out of his face. Even after being put in this cell, he was still shackled. He wondered if he should take it as a compliment that they were wise enough not to underestimate a warrior of his caliber. This was his first time in one of these magic-sealing cells, and the air around him felt stuffy after only a few moments.
“After I fought for this fucking country,” he muttered.
“Tell me about it.” The voice came from the next cell, and Aithorn recognized it.
“Berholm?”
“In the flesh, and in chains. Take a good look, Aithorn. If Galvin has his human-supremacist way, we won’t be the last elf and dwarf locked up down here.”
“I was told you fled into exile after trying to kill Galvin.”
“I certainly wanted to, but I just couldn’t do it, not in front of the portrait of his father. I turned my back, and the damn punk beaned me in the back of the head. Now I wish I could travel back in time and kick my own ass for being so weak. How’d they get you?”
“I tried to stop a raid on the Knight’s Sheath, but Opal grabbed me with her stone hands, and I was arrested. Apparently, she has some extreme opinions about beastmen that she never told me about while we traveled together. All those scars on her cheek? There is a nasty story behind them.”
“That would be your luck. Tell me, what has happened since I was locked up?”
“Tarnas had to leave to go fight a Profane invasion that snuck past the garrison, and Galvin has erected a lot of ugly statues to himself. Cyrilo was sheltering Handent refugees and other beastmen and helping them board ships to cross the sea, but they were intercepted. I’m not sure how many of them managed to get away, but the fact we haven’t seen them must be good.”
“We can only hope so. After all, there is little else to hope for these days. By the time the Profane does reach Colbrand, they’ll find the city already drenched in blood, because everyone will have killed each other.”
“I’m glad King Leonard isn’t around to see what’s become of this country.”
“The way things are going, soon there won’t be a country.”
oldFReport