The king's ball had quite a turnout that night. Garland leaned against a polished marble pillar and sipped his champagne as he listened to the orchestra play Wanderer of the Stars, a pleasant and light-hearted song that was perfect for dancing. The knight gazed out over the ballroom floor at the garishly dressed aristocrats in their ridiculous frocked suits and white wigs. Garland wore his armor, the same suit of armor he had worn practically everywhere since he was promoted to general. It was actually the trademark bluish armor of a dragoon- a bit light for a knight, but he preferred the mobility afforded by the lighter plate mail. His armor had been specially cleaned and polished for this occasion, of course, but he still looked decidedly out of place. The horned headgear that was the mark of his knighthood sat atop a head of long, blonde hair that attracted more than a few glances from the womenfolk. He continued to stare.
His Majesty was prone to throwing celebrations with little-to-no rationale behind them but a desire to celebrate. Pundits found this decadence to be distasteful and it was a ripe and omnipresent target for criticism, but tonight was actually a special night- the most festive Garland could remember since Sarah's seventeenth. Tonight marked the beginning of an ambitious project to rebuild the drawbridge over the Northern Strait. The bridge had been lost long ago to a combination of weather and aquatic monsters, and its loss was one of the many things that turned Pravoka into a lawless den of thieves. With the bridge rebuilt, land trade with the remainder of Cornelia's protectorates would become commonplace again, and the Royal Army would be able to march right into Pravoka. He smiled. The chancellor may not allow acts of aggression against our neighbors, but the king will soon see the wisdom in retaking Provoka. Its anarchy is a blight, an embarrassment before the elves and the dwarves. They fall prey to that city's pirates as well.
One figure in particular caught his attention: A gorgeous, emerald-haired girl in the most resplendent gown he had ever seen. He locked gazes with Sarah from across the room. She smiled at him and he nodded back ever so slightly. For a moment it seemed like she wished to cross the room and speak with him, but she was intercepted by a well-dressed noble in red. While she maintained a pleasant façade before Count Sorel, one could read the disappointment and annoyance in her body language. Garland couldn't fault her for that, he had been lucky enough to avoid the count on most of these gatherings- he seemed to have a disdain for military types- but what few exchanges they did have were barely civil, let alone pleasant. The man was an insufferable boor. Rumor had it that he drove his own brother into self-imposed exile.
Garland sighed as Sarah apparently accepted Anton's offer to dance, but he was content with watching her do so. He sipped his drink in silent admiration of his unofficial fiancé's gracefulness. He wanted her- badly. The Light Crystal shimmered brightly as she spun and twirled. Garland lusted after that as well, but to a lesser extent.
"Gorgeous, isn't she?" A tall figure approached Garland from behind, seemingly out of nowhere.
The knight whirled around, genuinely surprised. "I beg your pardon?"
Garland had never seen the man before. He wore an extravagant but subdued fencer's outfit with a dark blue cape. His long, red hair was pulled back into a braid that spilled out over his high collar. The bright, fiery shade of his hair contrasted sharply with his pale, colorless skin and dull green eyes.
The man gave Garland a sharp, predatory grin. "The princess, of course. She is possessed of a beauty that elves would claim impossible to cultivate in a human." He extended his hand. "General Garland, I presume."
"You are correct sir." Garland took his hand. "Unfortunately I have no idea who you are."
"Lord Berne of Melmond, but you can call me Raxle. I've heard a lot about you, Wyrmkiller. The stories and songs do indeed impress."
"They are greatly exaggerated, I'm afraid." The knight frowned, seemingly lost in thought. "Melmond… You're from Duergar then? And you're…"
"…Not a dwarf, no." Berne finished the sentence for him. "It is a little known fact that Melmond has a majority human population- whom I represent. It can be thought of as a small piece of Cornelia in the midst of the dwarven west, or at least it could have been a scant few years ago."
"The earth rot." Garland nodded. "Is that why you're here?"
"Regrettably yes. This is a lively party, but I am on official business." Lord Berne took a sip of his red wine- which Garland thought looked a little thick. "I am here to see the king about emergency relief for western Duergar. My people are starving."
"Have there been any breakthroughs concerning the cause of the miasma?" The knight inquired, genuinely concerned. While Duergar's weakness was of no concern to him- in fact he welcomed it- the earth rot's spread showed now sign of slowing down. If it maintained its current pace it would reach western Cornelia in two years. What's more, dwarven scientists had noticed an acceleration in the rate of decay.
"I am afraid not, unfortunately." Berne sighed heavily. "'Tis a disaster of monumental proportions, what they don't tell you is that Melmond is regularly sacked by fiends during the night. Undead are everywhere. It is all we can do to keep our walls in one piece, let alone food in our stomachs."
"The Devil's Tail used to be among the most fertile regions in the world." Garland mused.
"Indeed, but the once verdant hills and forests are nothing more than barren wastes and toxic bogs now. I fear my people may be doomed." Berne smiled reassuringly. "But I don't see how this concerns an eastern knight like you. How are things here in Cornelia? The king plans to reunite his nation with the far east. This is most exciting."
Garland nodded. "Agreed. The far eastern lands are officially Cornelian territory anyway, but without the means to enforce them our laws mean nothing. By rebuilding the drawbridge our territory is virtually doubled."
Lord Berne chuckled softly. "The region between Pravoka and Cornelia is quite fertile, if memory serves. Perhaps the king plans to build agricultural colonies to compensate for what used to come out of my province?"
"It's hard to say exactly." Garland sipped his drink. "Just bringing order to Pravoka will be worth the effort, the piracy caused by our negligence is felt by your nation as well, my lord."
The orchestra concluded their song, and for a moment Sarah looked as if she wanted to do something else. Unfortunately for her, Count Sorel had other plans and didn't loosen his grip. She found herself in his embrace as a decidedly slower song began. Garland found it very difficult to suppress his anger; so difficult, in fact, he failed.
Berne's sick-looking eyes widened as the crystal glass shattered in Garland's mailed hand. Champagne dribbled down to the floor along with shards of broken glass. Fortunately for Garland, only Berne seemed to notice- the sound was drowned out by the music.
"May the gods spare me should I ever draw your ire, General." Berne mused, impressed.
"My apologies sir…"
The aristocrat smiled. "Nonsense, Wyrmkiller. You're young. It's as plain as a clear night that you want her- I must say I can certainly sympathize." Berne's smile became malicious. "The real question is: What are you going to do about that?"
Garland shrugged. "There's not a lot I can do, sir. Not without the king's blessing."
"Have you asked him?"
"…No."
"The implications of a love affair with the princess are grave indeed, General. You're the greatest knight in your kingdom, and being in bed with Lady Sarah makes you next in line for the throne should something happen to His Majesty."
"I'm aware of this." Garland said softly.
"Perhaps I can be of some assistance then." Berne spread his hands in a magnanimous gesture. "Not to brag, but I'm quite well-versed in the art of seduction. Many women and a few men have fallen before my charm. I'm sure with a few pointers you could make the princess love you too."
Garland locked gazes with the baron which made him uncomfortable. "She already does." He replied.
"Excellent!" Berne grinned. "Then the hard part is over. A secret love is the most exciting kind, in my opinion, but a shadowy affair with the princess will be bereft of the… additional perks of the relationship. You do want to be king, don't you?"
"Well there's that and the fact that if she ends up with someone like that foppish bastard, I'll need to be extremely careful. A love tryst that includes myself and the future king and queen does not appeal to me in the least. I'll probably be dispatched to the front of the Elven Civil War if Sorel becomes king." Garland turned away and tried to give his most reassuring smile. "But the king is in good health, he may yet have a son."
"I must confess these monarchies seem a bit uncouth to me." Berne sipped his wine. "My understanding of your customs is admittedly very lacking, but should the king die is the decision not Lady Sarah's?"
"It is." Garland nodded. "The king's blessing certainly couldn't hurt though."
"We come back to seduction then." Berne replied. "The corridors of power are wrought with those who would sabotage you, General. If you want to remain on top you'll need more than your past deeds and Sarah's love to keep you there- lest people like him should usurp your position. Seduction, my friend."
"What would you suggest then, Raxle?" Garland found it foolish to put his trust in this acquaintance but the smug grin on Anton's face and the king's tirade from the other day were fresh on his mind. He was desperate.
Berne's smile disappeared. "That depends on what you are willing to do, Wyrmkiller. Think carefully before you answer. Treason is treason, but betrayal goes both ways. Would the king betray his own daughter by disregarding her wishes? Would the king betray you, after everything you've done for your kingdom but for a few unfortunate mishaps? I suppose before I answer your question you must answer mine. Would you really be willing to serve under anyone other than the current king?"
Garland nodded. "Yes, should the queen bear a son."
Berne shook his head. "No, I mean are you willing to serve under a suitor of Sarah's that is not you?"
"…No." Garland's response was barely a whisper.
Raxle hissed. "And what are you willing to do to keep that from happening?"
"Whatever is necessary." Garland couldn't believe the words were coming out of his mouth. They bordered on treason, but for some reason he just didn't care. He had enough of politics, of being a figurehead. He had enough of keeping his love for Sarah secret. The thought of serving under an adulterous lecher that was her husband in name only made him ill. Raxle's right. He thought. I need to start looking out for myself from now on. He shuddered as Berne put his arm around him in what should have been a friendly gesture, but seemed more than a little possessive.
"And so you must seduce the king then." Berne whispered. "You must use everything under your command; your nobility, your knighthood, the Army itself if necessary. Leverage it against your foes and maintain your dominance in His Majesty's court! Seduction, Wyrmkiller. Seduction. There are many kinds."
"What you suggest seems more akin to rape." Garland's knees felt weak.
"I haven't suggested anything yet." Berne released the knight and smiled. "Should you fail I have something that will help keep you on top, I-"
"Lord Berne? The king will see you know." A knight appeared and snapped a smart salute to Garland before hustling off.
"Another time then, General." Berne cracked his knuckles. "You must seduce the king into seeing you as his ideal successor. I, on the other hand, must seduce him into seeing my people through the coming winter." He bowed gracefully. "Adieu."
"Where can I find you?" Garland called as the man strode towards the king's chamber.
"Don't worry. I'll find you." Berne didn't even look back.
The cool night air was refreshing. Garland walked toward the balcony rail and leaned against it; gazing out at the city he was born and raised in. It was bright for how late it was, the full moon beamed down on the city of countless lights. Despite all of the illumination thousands upon thousands of stars could be seen in detail. They glittered like gems and spanned the full spectrum of size and color. Meteorites streaked and exploded in the cloudless sky. The knight sighed; the vista was so serene, so peaceful, so boring.
The monotony of the last few weeks following the skirmish in the strait was wearing on him. He wasn't born to attend parties and schmooze with nobles. He did not attend the academy to sign orders and reorganize the city watch. He did not master swordsmanship to stand guard as the Royal Corps of Engineers rebuilt the drawbridge. While the serenity of the balcony was a welcome change from the stifling ball inside, it was still leagues from where he wanted to be. Garland was a knight, a warrior. His place was on the battlefield, personally leading the Army on crusades to bring glory to the greatest nation in the world.
He allowed himself a faint smile. He could get used to the throne room too, but he wouldn't be an invalid like the current king. Administrating the kingdom and collecting tributes could be handled by the chancellor- which would certainly be someone new. He had no intention of maintaining the current advisory council. No, someone more like-minded than Rhenquist would be chancellor. Garland would be known as the general-king. He would lead the largest army in Cornelian history to unprecedented glory. Duergar and Elfheim would cower before its might and the nation's sphere of influence would expand to include the northern continents. Although the other nations were in a vastly weakened state Cornelia still lacked the manpower necessary for a comprehensive conquest. Conscripts would be needed.
Garland shook his head violently. What was he thinking? This was no time to indulge himself in fantasies of conquest and a seat on the throne that may never actually be. Chancellor Rhenquist called them 'delusions of grandeur' and as it stood, under these circumstances, Garland had to agree. He was the Field Marshal, the Grand General, the highest ranking knight in all of Cornelia; but he was still just a knight- and one with a career that was in a very bad way. The only things he had going for him were his popularity with the people and Sarah's love for him. He never dreamed knighthood would be like this. As a squire he trained in the sword and dabbled in white magic; always believing that he would be sent to vanquish fiends and protect his people. The politics and intrigue of His Majesty's court were distasteful to him, as was the fact that he had grown quite accustomed to them in recent months.
No, this was a dangerous time for him. He had to maintain focus. Raxle Berne's words from earlier that night echoed in his mind. He had many enemies, he could not maintain his passive-aggressive attitude and remain first-in-line for the throne. Above all, above all, he had to repair his shattered reputation before the king. 'Seduction'. What did it mean to seduce the king? Berne said that Garland would have to convince the king that his ideal successor is him and him alone. It was simple in concept, but the implications of the process were mind boggling. Garland knew what he had to do, but he had no idea how to do it. He would need Berne's help, that much was clear. The man seemed more than willing to offer it as well. Garland suppressed a shudder. How could he trust a man he had only met, and briefly at that. He didn't just trust Berne with his reputation and career, depending on the man's true plans Garland's very life could be at stake. Why? How could it come to this?
Garland had never feared death. He had put his life on the line countless times; against fiends, against dragons and against pirates. War did not frighten him, but somehow the idea of hanging for high treason terrified him. No, he was a knight. He could not abandon his oath of chivalry so lightly. His ascension would be a legitimate one. A coup would be a last resort. Last resorts. Berne mentioned something about a contingency plan. What could it possibly be? Failing to convince the king of his ideal nature was a very real possibility- especially in light of the recent 'mishaps' as Berne called them. What then? How could he possibly-
"There you are!" Princess Sarah Til Cornelias stepped out onto the starlit balcony. Her green hair shimmered in the moonlight, as did her resplendent gown and diamond-studded tiara. She was, in short, the most beautiful creature Garland had ever seen. "What are you doing out here? I wanted to dance with you!" She approached him and kissed him gently. "Is something wrong?"
"Not at all, Sarah." He tried to smile reassuringly, but her eyes told him the attempt had failed.
She clasped her fingers around his, the chain mail gauntlets made it awkward. "Is it about Anton? You know I want nothing to do with him. The man is crass, arrogant and just… Ugh! It took forever to get away from him."
The knight chuckled nervously. "That's not it. I mean, there's no problem Sarah, really. Parties just aren't all that enjoyable to me. I came out here to get some fresh air, away from all the pomp and noise."
Sarah turned to gaze out at the stars. She put her arm around his waist and leaned her head against his shoulders- gingerly, as the big metal spikes made that maneuver awkward as well. "It is nice out here, Siegfried. When I was a little girl I always used to gaze up at the stars. Did you know that the ancient Lufenians counted and named every one? The names have since been lost, of course, but they had telescopes far more sophisticated than ours. They could see stars we cannot see now. You know what else?"
"No, what?" Garland said indulgently.
"My tutor told me that each star is a sun- just like the one that burns in our own sky. Our world spins around the sun, so there must be other worlds like ours around the distant stars! Isn't that amazing?"
The knight frowned. "So there may be people in those worlds looking into their night sky… and our sun appears but a tiny yellow pinpoint to them? Fascinating."
"This world is vast, Siegfried. Full of wonders. The heavens, however, are apparently infinite. The Sky People, the Lufenians, they reached for the stars… and just before their civilization fell… they're rumored to have touched them." She was quiet for a few moments. "It's truly sad that their achievements are lost. I would so love to fly, among the clouds, among the stars…"
"The Golden Age of the Sky People proves what humans are truly capable of." Garland nodded, mostly to himself. "Gods willing, we may again one day rule the skies."
"How is it that birds and insects fly, Siegfried? Is it magic? Almost everyone I talk to says no, because only monsters and people can use magic. Of course things like dragons use magic to fly, but if mundane things like birds can take flight, why couldn't a machine?" She looked down into the castle courtyard briefly. "There has to be a way…"
He turned to her. "Why are you so preoccupied with this, Love?"
"…Oh, I'm just bored, really. Hours of talking to Anton- by 'talking' I really mean 'listening to him brag about boring drivel'- and then making the obligatory rounds to: Lord So-And-So of Wherever and Lady What's-Her-Face from Who Cares. You're always interesting to talk to, Siegfried. That is, in the rare event we get to talk like this." She tightened their embrace. "It's nice."
It was nice. Garland stood there and held his fiancé, gazing at the moon, the stars and the city. He was consumed by infatuation, and he didn't care. This was too perfect. He wouldn't change a single thing about it- or would he?
"Sarah?" He said softly. "Is this enough for you?"
She loosened her grip. "What do you mean?"
"I mean, are you satisfied with me? With what we have together? I mean… Actually, I don't know what I mean. Do you ever want something… something more?"
She gazed into his eyes and kissed him. It was a long, deep kiss and when she was done she merely smiled at him. "I thought you would never ask. Where do you want to do it?"
Garland blushed. What was she? Oh, that. That wasn't quite what he had in mind, but since he had no idea exactly what he had in mind, he decided it was sufficient. "I… I love you." He stammered.
She kissed him again. "I love you too, you know that. Gods willing we can find a place to express it in ways that words cannot. You have no idea how bad I've been wanting this."
"Me too, but…" He turned away from her, looking out over the cityscape again.
"But what?"
He sighed. "Sarah, I'll be honest. I'm worried. I'm worried about my future, about our future. Don't for a moment think I only want you to get to the throne-"
"I don't think that!"
"Let me finish." He sighed again. "But if I don't become king, and you don't get a brother…"
"If I don't get a brother you DO become king, Siegfried."
"I'm afraid not, unless…" He turned and looked into her eyes. She met his gaze with one of intense confusion and mild apprehension. "Unless I fix things. Do you understand what I'm talking about?"
"I think so…"
"Just promise me." He took her hands in his. "Promise me you'll be with me, you'll stay with me, no matter what happens."
"I promise." She said solemnly.
Garland smiled. "Good." He kissed her. "That's all I needed to hear. I can take the rest from this point on. With you by my side, nothing can stop me." He glanced briefly at the Light Crystal that hung on a silver chain around her neck. "So… did you have someplace in mind?"
She grinned mischievously. "The stables. To the stables! Now, General!"
"Yes, Milady." He bowed and walked away.
Garland steeled himself as he lifted the latch to the king's private study. Rain and wind buffeted the far window and lightning flashed as the knight stepped inside. The king sat at his massive oak desk, scribbling on a parchment with his quill pen. He didn't look up to acknowledge Garland as he closed the door behind him.
"You wanted to see me, Your Majesty?" Thunder from the previous, and apparently distant, lightning flash rattled the window.
"General." The king still didn't look up, he merely pointed to one of the chairs with his pen. "Have a seat."
As the king continued to scribble Garland grabbed a far chair and hauled it up to the desk. He glanced about the room nervously for a moment before sitting down. His bulky armor made it a tight fit. The king continued to write whatever it was he was writing, and left Garland in silence for what seemed like forever. The only sounds to be heard was the thunderstorm, the scribbling pen and the clock on the far wall. Garland had a very, very bad feeling about this.
He had been in the library researching some very basic white magic when Chancellor Rehnquist approached him. The chancellor seemed ecstatic when he told him the king demanded his presence. The knight knew Rehnquist enough to know that he virtually had a slipknot about his neck at that moment. Berne's words from last night seemed hollow and meaningless as the king sat before him. Garland could never remember a time he was so intimidated by the potentate.
The king finally spoke up. "Did you sleep well?" The king was never one for small talk, and the implications of that question frightened what little color remained in Garland's face. He couldn't! How?
"V- very well, Sire. Thank you." He stammered.
The king of Cornelia had apparently finished whatever document he was composing. He returned the quill to the ink well and looked up at the knight. His smile was bereft of any real warmth whatsoever. "Glad to hear it. While you were sleeping, there was an incident in the city."
"An incident?"
"Yes." The king's fake smile disappeared. "Is the name 'Otis Bartz' familiar to you at all?"
Garland nodded. "An ex-pirate. Formally Captain Bikke's second in command. He was the informant that told us Black Beard's fleet would be in the Northern Strait. It was because of him we were able to set up that ambush."
"So your mind is not completely defunct, then." The king looked down at his hands. "Were you aware he was, until recently, living in Cornelia City?"
Garland nodded again. "Asylum was one of the terms we negotiated with him. We-"
The king cut him off. "Next question: Why was I not aware that a dangerous criminal was living in the upper-class part of town under guard by Army forces?"
The knight's confusion was intense. "It was my understanding that these were the arrangements we agreed on."
The king pounded the desk with his fist. "We NEVER deal with criminals like that! You of all people! We had the intel! There was no reason to make good on our end of the bargain! You stepped far beyond your authority there, General. This is the last straw!"
Garland still had no idea what was going on. "Your Majesty, I felt that if we followed through with the arrangements, it would serve as an example to any insiders we dealt with in the future. Criminals would be more willing-"
"Spare me your mindless, self-important drivel, Garland." The king hissed. "What's come over you lately? It's as if you're going out of your way to undermine me and use the authority I give you to do the opposite of what I would do!" The king leaned across his desk to get closer to Garland's face. "Last night the mansion you provided to Bartz was destroyed. Apparently Bikke was well aware of who tipped us off. Intelligence tells me there was a sizable price on the man's head. Well, you got your wish. He was hit."
"D-Destroyed?" The knight's voice was far from stable.
The king shrugged. "The city watch tells me it was black magic. Very advanced black magic. Fire elemental. Bartz' mansion was incinerated instantly. A charred skeleton inside matches the dimensions of his description. He's dead, but so are the six knights you provided to be his personal bodyguards."
Siegfried Garland swallowed. His throat felt like it was filled with rocks and he wanted nothing more than to fall on his sword at that moment. "Who?" He whispered.
"We don't know. We haven't had a black archmage since you were promoted, so it's obviously a foreign job. The only vague suspects are dark elven guerillas, but why they would have any interest in Bartz is unknown. Dark elves are religious zealots, not mercenaries. They live on top of more wealth than they'll ever need. The fact is, we don't know who did this. Whoever it was, they were an extremely powerful sorcerer, and a very thorough hitman. Several hundred thousand gil richer now, no doubt. He or she left no trace, but I wouldn't exactly call it a 'clean' job, at any rate."
Garland hung his head.
"Which brings me to my favorite part of your latest and, I daresay, greatest faux pas. The blast was so intense that it took out the neighboring houses. Sixteen innocent men, women and children died last night because of you. Another half dozen are missing and still unaccounted for. These weren't just peasants, either. They were nobles. Nobles! Many of whom were descended from bloodlines several ranks above your own!"
Even if Garland had anything to say, he couldn't say it. His face was on fire and his vision blurred. His throat had constricted into a tiny hole through which he could barely breathe. The malaise he suffered from was several orders of magnitude greater than the one he had felt when he realized he accidentally killed Admiral Roethke. It was over. It was all over. Not even Berne could save him now- assuming he had been able to save him anyway. Everything that went through Garland's mind last night seemed like a fit of drunken delirium now. Reality came crashing down on top of him, and it was all he could do to keep from being crushed by it.
"What do you have to say for yourself?" The king demanded.
"I- I have nothing to say." Garland wheezed.
His Majesty snorted. "I thought as much. Chancellor Rehnquist recommended you hang, but that seems a bit excessive for a hero like you- even if you are an artificial hero I created with my daughter's crystal. No, I still have use for you, Garland. You're an exemplary swordsman, and you have academy training. I spoke with Ambassador Ulara of Elfheim last night. They gain no ground against the dark elves, and they requested military assistance. We're publicly neutral in their civil war, of course, so I won't be mobilizing a large force to assist them. I did pledge assistance, however, but until this morning I was at a loss for how to help them. I now have my answer, and your punishment. You're going to Elfheim. They will use you as they see fit. If you want to return to Cornelia, I suggest you fight very hard. Hopefully, for your sake, there will be a new king on the throne by then."
The king stood. "Siegfried Garland, in light of your transgressions and incompetence in service to the Crown, I am revoking your rank and hereby relieve you of command of the Cornelian Royal Army. You will retain your knighthood, but you will never again serve as an officer. Gather your belongings, you leave for Elfheim in the morning. Now, get out of my sight." The king sat back down and brought out a new sheet of parchment.
Garland didn't say a word. He stood and exited the room. As he stomped down he hall towards his wing of the castle his despair and anxiety gave in to rage. Wordless, thoughtless, white-hot rage. He couldn't put his anger into words if he tried. He felt betrayed, he felt lots of things, but love of king and country was no longer among them. His mailed fists were clenched so tightly he couldn't feel his fingers. He couldn't see through the tears that streamed down his face as he passed soldiers, scholars and courtesans who did their best to act like they didn't see him. He rounded a corner and collided with some scholarly-looking fool. Garland shoved him aside and kept on walking. Bystanders started murmuring nervously amongst themselves as the ex-Field Marshal passed.
Finally, he reached the door to his quarters. He grappled with the latch- awkwardly, as his fingers were still without feeling. His room was pitch dark inside. For some reason the maid must have left the curtains drawn. He didn't care. Slamming the door behind him as hard as he could, he heard the hinges slip out of their mounts. In the oppressive darkness of his room Garland screamed. He screamed and sobbed. His ravings were punctuated by invisible thunder that rattled the windows. The knight went down to his knees, then sat on the polished marble floor. Jerking his gauntlets off he finally tended to his raw face with his bare hands. Garland's mind tumbled between rage and despair, until the two coalesced into a third, unique emotion: Hatred.
A shadow on the far wall suddenly came to life. "I told you I would find you." Berne's voice echoed in the spacious apartment.
"Berne?" Garland's voice was hoarse. "Is that you? How did you get in here?" He stood to his feet and strained to see anything in the darkness. All he could make out was a humanoid shadow.
The shadow blithely raised a hand and made a dismissive gesture. Suddenly the fireplace and every candle in the room came to life in response to Berne's signal. In the flickering firelight Garland could make out Berne's pale face clearly. His eyes were bloodshot, but his face held the most genuine look of sympathy Garland had ever seen. "Are you ready to claim the throne?"
Garland laughed bitterly as he sat down on the edge of his bed, shaking his head violently. "It's over. I'm barely a knight, let alone a general. I'm being sent far away, I may never come back." He suppressed another sobbing fit. "It's over."
"No." Berne extended his hand. "It's just beginning. We didn't get a chance to finish our conversation last night, Wyrmkiller. I have prepared for this possibility, as unfortunate and unthinkable as it may be. I am sorry to see you cast out like yesterday's garbage, but the king has sealed his fate. Join me, and your ascension is all but assured." His red eyes narrowed. "As is the king's demise."
"I can't." Garland gagged. "I can't do anything. I just want to die."
"In your current condition, yes, I don't doubt it. You are suffering from the philosophical shortcomings of conventional knighthood. You are trained to be the perfect footman, the perfect defender, the perfect pawn." He leaned forward, still holding his arm out expectantly. "May I see your sword?"
Garland stood and unsheathed his blade. It gleamed in the firelight, a steel longsword. Nothing special, very ornate, but without the Light Crystal it was just an ordinary sword. He handed it to Berne, who held it like it might defile him.
Berne wrinkled his nose. "This is not the sword of a conqueror."
The knight didn't say anything, he merely sat back down on his bed. Berne stepped back and tested the blade, his look of distaste did not waiver. "This is the sword of a pawn, the sword of a lowly lapdog. You… you must master the dark sword."
Garland shuddered. Dark knights were outcast fighters who combined swordsmanship with dark magic. Dark magic was not to be confused with black magic, although it was technically a kind of black magic. The arts of the dark sword were forbidden in Cornelia, and for good reason. The evil power dark knights possessed was beyond imagination, but they had no control over that power. As they mastered the art the art mastered them, and they became consumed by darkness. In short, the dark knight was the opposite of everything Garland had trained to be thus far. It promised unparalleled power, but at the cost of his very soul.
"I could never…" Garland's voice trailed off.
"Hmm?" Berne looked at him cockeyed. "Never train in the dark arts? Why not, Wyrmkiller? What have you got to lose? Although your circumstances are unfortunate, I agree, they actually make matters of securing the throne so much easier. Seduction is useful, I will be the first to admit, and damned satisfying…"
Thunder rumbled across the sky.
"…But when you can take what you want by sheer force it seems so frivolous. I was going to teach you how to convince the king to give you his throne. Now it appears I will teach you how to take it from him. Again, it's unfortunate that it has come to this, but it's so much easier this way, believe me." He turned to look into Garland's blank, expressionless face. "Take the princess."
"What?"
"Sarah is yours. You love her, she loves you. Don't let anyone stand in the way of that. The king has betrayed you, Garland. The king has betrayed her. If you won't do it for yourself, and you won't do it for me, then do it for her! Do you think she wants to marry that Sorel prig? Do you think she wants to see her valiant knight sent away to die in a foreign war?" He tested the sword once more. "Those who resist change will be left behind. The moon is setting on His Majesty, and the reign of Wyrmkiller Garland and Queen Sarah approaches. Soon the whole world will know your might! I know what you need to get you there! I know where you can find it! Take it, I entreat you!"
Garland was silent for a long time. "…What do I need?"
Berne bared his unspeakably white teeth in a malicious looking smile. "I told you. The princess. Take the princess. She is the protector of the kingdom's most powerful treasures. You have tasted the Fifth Crystal's power before, haven't you? If you wield it again, nothing can stop you." The tall man stroked his chin. "And, if you get the Lute, nothing can even get to you."
"Sarah's Lute? The hereditary treasure bestowed to each princess? What does that have to do with anything?"
Berne turned toward the fireplace. "It is an enchanted instrument. I am sure you know something of magical songs, yes? It is how bards can take to the battlefield without being eaten alive. This one is special, however. It is tied to the Fifth Crystal's power."
"The Light Crystal?" Garland asked.
Berne hissed. "No! The Fifth Crystal. There are four prime elements, I wouldn't expect you to know this, because you've only trained in white magic. White magic is almost exclusively light-based. Black magic, on the other hand, runs the spectrum of the elements. The four prime elements; earth, fire, wind and water govern the two secondary elements; ice and lightning. These six are, in turn, governed by the two transcendental elements; light and darkness. Light and darkness are in eternal opposition, and both occupy the Fifth Crystal, but never at the same time. As you have observed, the Fifth Crystal is currently under the domain of light- incompatible with the powers you seek. You must take it back and reconfigure it. You must embrace the darkness that will give you power over all! Mundane AND magical!"
"But how?" Garland stood again. "I'm no mage, and as you pointed out I know nothing of black magic. How could I possibly re-align the crystal?"
Berne shook his head. "You don't need to be a mage, Garland. The crystals' power is extrinsic. It can be used by anyone. You've used it before, no? The knowledge is already there at your disposal. You merely have to summon it."
Garland nodded emphatically. "Very well. I will take the crystal, and the lute. What then?"
"Not just the artifacts!" Berne looked like he was suppressing a smile. "The princess! She is your true prize, those relics are just accessories. If you hold the princess, you won't even need a human army. The king will listen to your demands."
"You want me to hold the woman I love hostage?"
"Is there something particularly unscrupulous about that? You won't turn her over, of course, but it will keep the Army from hunting you down like a dog and killing you without hesitation." He gave in to his smile. "The king may even exchange the throne for his daughter's life. He doesn't know about you two, does he? He won't suspect you to be unwilling to terminate her life."
Garland nodded. "But what's to stop the Army from staging a rescue? Where could I go that's safe?"
"Well, you can't hide, that's for sure. You're a general, or at least you have the necessary experience. With an army of your own you could turn those ruins in the north into a makeshift stronghold."
The knight frowned. "The Chaos Shrine? What's there? And where in hell would I get an army of my own?"
"Where in hell, indeed." Berne smiled. "With the Fifth Crystal, you can summon fiends from the netherworld, and control those that already infest this world." He cleared his throat. "To answer your previous question, the Shrine holds ancient treasures that will be invaluable to your quest for dark knighthood."
Garland paced back and forth. "So I take Sarah, and her treasures, and go to the Chaos Shrine? There I command an army of fiends to protect myself and demand the king surrender the throne unto me?"
"Precisely." Berne answered. "It is so much simpler this way, don't you agree? And once you are there, your ascension to dark knighthood will be completed. The first step toward you becoming the conqueror you've always dreamed of!"
The knight stopped pacing. He nodded with conviction and resignation. "Very well. I will do what must be done, for Sarah's sake. For MY sake." He turned to Berne. "Taking Sarah will not be easy- even in the unlikely event that she chooses to come willingly."
Berne nodded towards the door. "Well, here she comes now. Your move." He returned the sword to Garland and opened the door to his closet, stepping inside as a knock sounded at the door. "Use the crystal's power to escape." He whispered. "I will join you when I can." The closet door closed silently.
"Siegfried?" Sarah's muffled voice sounded from outside. "Siegfried, are you there?"
"Come in." Garland answered coolly.
The door opened and Princess Sarah entered the room. Her face was red and streaked with tears. Two armed guards followed her inside and eyed Garland's drawn sword nervously.
"Siegfried I heard-" She stammered. "I heard terrible things. Father's not- I'm just so confused! What do we do?"
One of the guards spoke up. "Lady Sarah, you're not to have any physical contact with him." He turned to Garland. "Sir, I'm sorry to say this, but could you sheathe your blade? We don't want any trouble."
Sarah didn't let go. "I just want to say goodbye! Let me say goodbye!"
"You don't have to." Garland's voice was cold as ice. "I'm not going to Elfheim, and where I am going, you're coming with."
Sarah looked up at him. "What?"
The two soldiers looked at each other, and then at Garland as he firmly but gently spun her around to face them. They drew their sabers as he held his blade to her throat. "Siegfried, what? What are you?" She gasped.
Garland hushed her and smiled maliciously at the guards. "If you don't want any trouble, stand down. Sheathe YOUR blades and get the hell out of here. This doesn't need to concern you." He reached down and removed the Light Crystal from Sarah's neck.
"We can't do that, sir. Please, think this through rationally. You can't do this! Where would you go?" The soldier looked terrified, but resolute. "Let the princess go."
Garland sneered. "I have thought this through rationally, and I will go wherever I damn well please!" He pressed the cold steel of his longsword against the frail flesh of the girl's neck. "Now. Stand down, Sergeant!"
"You are under arrest, sir!" The sergeant turned toward the other guard. "Get reinforcements, now!"
Without warning Garland tossed Sarah onto his bed. He bellowed a war cry and charged for the guards, they held their sabers up defensively but they couldn't parry his larger weapon. In a few deft strokes they were cut down amidst a flurry of blood and cries.
"Garland!" Sarah screamed. "What are you doing? What's happening to you?" She leapt from the bed and backed into the corner as he approached. "Who are you?"
He grabbed her by the arm and hoisted her to her feet. "I am who I've always been, Love. But now my loyalty lies with you. My loyalty lies with us. Your father is dead to me, and soon he will be dead in every sense of the word." He held up the crystal in his hand. It glittered with bluish-white light. "And with this, nothing can stop us." He smiled at her, it was an alien smile that strangely enough did not contrast with the bloody corpses on the floor. "Remember what we shared last night? Remember your promise? With you by my side, I can do anything. I will do anything for you."
"I- I didn't mean murder!" She sobbed.
"Hush. Soon this will all be a bad memory." He raised the crystal above his head and grasped it tightly. He grimaced as he focused. The bluish-white light faded and faded until the crystal went completely dark.
"What are you doing to it?" Sarah demanded.
Garland didn't answer. The crystal suddenly radiated a dark blue, almost violet light. Its radiance was far more subdued than it had been previously, but the power the crystal now emitted seemed to distort the very air around it. Purple, electric tendrils traveled from the crystal and ran up and down his arms. Garland smiled.
"You've corrupted it!" Sarah moaned.
Rushed footfalls could be heard outside. As a platoon of guards rounded the corner Garland held Sarah close, and held the Dark Crystal out to them. They drew their blades and chattered amongst themselves in confusion as they took in the grizzly scene.
Garland once again held his blade to Sarah's throat to keep them from immediately rushing him. He didn't want to waste more of his future minions than he had to. "Give the king a message." He called. "Tell them I have his daughter, and if he values her life he will abdicate the throne to me."
Without warning the radiation from the crystal expanded in a dark sphere that enveloped both Garland and Sarah. It warped all of time and space at that tiny focus point and shrank into nothingness. When the sphere had dissipated, both Garland and Sarah had vanished.