Chapter II: The Court

There was once a time where the whole of Albion was only a solid plain, ripe with fields of golden wheat and small settlements scattered about where humans thrived on simple life, living and dying in peace. This prosperity did not last, however, when a group of entities known as The Court made their entrance into the Mortal Realm.

Timothy Gray looked out over the vast horizon, as he sensed something upon the wind: it had picked up rather violently, bending the stalks of grain to a violent extent as dark clouds began to coalesce northward. The shrewd mayor of Stoneplace's stomach rattled with a sense of unease, as the thick ominous bodies seemed sentient in their approach towards his "town". As he stood with worry towards the approaching storm, others in the town were too careless to even notice, but one was hard at work unlike the lecherous rest.

Smith Black toiled in the dark space of his forge, bending the burning iron with his mighty hammer, striking with vigor as the red-hot metal took the form of a chain ring. Grinning with satisfaction, he plunged the piece into a vat of icy water his son had gathered from the nearby lake. His father's hulking form well at work, young William Black watched in awe as, with slight effort, the adamant metal was formed into a pleasing shape just on a whim. William was by no means as large as his father but he still had great strength for a boy of only ten winters and in addition, his mind was keener than many adults', but his greatest quality came from the fact that he held power no other man could boast.

Will's appearance was curious in that his veins took on a luminous appearance, like the blue of the neighboring lake and they glowed brighter whenever he strained himself. The first time William had committed such a strain was when another child poked fun at him for enjoying the simpler things of nature and pushed him onto the ground. William, in retaliation, responded by pushing back as he reached his feet but the result was what none expected: the bully was tossed three meters away, through the wall of his own house as if blown away by a powerful gust of wind. Many in Stoneplace responded in fear towards the event but soon, as he used his abilities to defend the town from creatures of great size that felled even the greatest fighters, he became heralded as their hero and his mastery over such forces became known far and wide as "The powers of Will".

Smith exhaled as he chuckled, putting his tongs and hammer aside as he turned around to see his son. He blinked in surprise at the sight but smiled warmly on the rebound. "How long have you been there, son?" he inquired in an amused tone as young Will shrugged.

"Oh…a while," he smiled back, his long ebony hair nearly shadowing his eyes. The elder Black leaned down to meet his son face-to-face, though it was difficult due to his great height, and ruffled the mop of hair with a giant hand. "Looks like someone needs a cut, eh Lad?" At this, Will chuckled. His father was one to talk about that need: what with his haggard beard and shaggy brow. Jokingly, Smith drew up to full height and reached for the hilt of a finished short-sword to "do the job", at which Will laughed even harder. They had both shared a bond that no ordinary family could, seeing as Smith had to raise young William by himself, his wife having died during Will's birth.

Though it brought him great sadness that the boy may live an incomplete life, Will seemed like he would not even need both parents: He was mature for a boy his age, and smart enough to be the head of his very own house. Still, Smith did his best to be a good figure for the boy, praising him for his good deeds and reprimanding him for his bad ones, though they were very few. Smith placed the blade back in its sheath and started to say he was about to start supper when the alarm bell in the village center was being rung frantically. At this, the mammoth forge-master grabbed his favorite weapon from the rack: a gleaming longsword and rushed out of the shack, young William following a distance behind.

The commotion of the alerting bell brought the attention of everyone in the settlement, the people stepping out of their huts to find out what the problem was, which had taken the form of three strangers at the entrance of the village conversing with the mayor. Being second-in-command, Smith Black went up to assist Timothy with the situation. William stayed back with the other children as his father walked forth, but even the giant of a man could not shake the feeling of dread sink into his heart.

The newcomers were all three of them very tall and garbed in a bloody crimson fashion. The one on the left was sheltered completely in metal, and was even a head taller and bulkier then Smith. His gore-red armor was adorned by strange markings carved into it, a large black cloak draped over his broad shoulders and a wreath of curved daggers around his neck like a necklace. His helmet was designed to resemble the fabled dog-beasts of the Northforest, which turned a man into one of their own form from a single bite. Its carved amber eyes flashed above the mouth-visor as a voice dark and hollow as an abyss poured from it, sending a chill down the spine of those that had the misfortune of hearing it. "I…am the Knight of Blades."

The one standing to the right from center was roguish in appearance; a haunting ivory mask obscured his face as a hood of the deepest red covered his shoulders and head, tapering off at the middle of his back. The mask, with outlandish characters painted upon it, was without a mouth or nose part, only revealing the malevolent orange eyes of the figure, not unlike those of a predatory cat. Black mail covered the rest of his body, the boots curving upward at the toes like a jester's shoes as several belts strapped across the torso, holding in them dirks, daggers, stilettos and various small blades of which the belts held dozens. A sinister, purposeful voice came from this one as his luminous eyes squinted slightly, holding a clawed gauntlet to his chest. "I am the Jack of Blades."

The central figure towered over the other two and possessed a shape that was vaguely female. It wore elaborate robes that flowed in the breeze, the arms ending in curved claws. An imposing structure surrounded its neck: a raised collar around the base of its head with bone spikes reaching up out of the top. Encircled around its gaunt body were chains that bore bleached human skulls. Like the Jack, this one wore not only a similar mask but also a regal crown of bronze that capped long bloodstained black hair. The eyes of brilliant topaz peered out and gripped the souls of all those around as multiple entities began speaking as one, white lights residing in the many skulls' empty eye sockets as they seemed to share their wearer's authoritative and empirical voice. "I am the Queen of Blades and WE are The Court. We hail from the Realm of Shadows to claim this one and all mortals shall bow before us…or be destroyed."

Gray gulped as his brow creased with worry and disdain as he shook at the "Court's" voices and appearances. Though a severe man, he was by no means a courageous one, unlike Smith Black and Anton Red, the portly butcher who was also a town official. A man who had seen and smelt blood for a living, Red could not help but reel at the overpowered stench of gore and death that lingered upon the three outsiders. While the rest of the village was paralyzed for a long moment, the mayor cleared his throat and put on a cowed smile, at which points all eyes began fixated on him.

"N-now, let us be reasonable here. P…please, allow me to be the first to welcome you to our quiet little town of Stoneplace. As mayor, however, I sp-speak for my people when I say we are right to control ourselves…we don't need outside assistance." The foreboding voices of the Queen suddenly emanated from her in response, sterner than it had been before. "It was not a suggestion, insect. You WILL bow or suffer our wrath."

For most of the children, they could not see, much less hear, the newcomers or their parents as they converse. The only exception was William as he used his mind's strength to project his senses. Close to him in the throng of unaware children were his two best friends; Cyrus Red, the butcher's son, and Jessica Gray, the mayor's daughter. Though she was worried, the pretty little offspring of Stoneplace was certain her father could take hold of the situation. "What are they, Will? Outlaws? If they are, my dad can chase them off in a heartbeat! What's he saying to them?" Young Will, with his eyes shut tightly, spoke slowly as if in dawning thought. "They aren't raiders…One of them looks like a wizard or something, another a thief and the third a mountain of metal…your dad's scared. Everyone up there is…. But I can't feel anything from those three…it's like they're empty of any feeling." And it was true; no emotion, or sensation spilt forth from them in his mind's eye, save for a feel of unholy cold that gripped Will's very soul. "Wait…Cyrus, your dad and mine are making a move."

William's huge father and Cyrus' stocky one moved in front of the mayor as they bared their sharp weapons in warning. Smith's face was molded into a fierce scowl, his white teeth gleaming in his beard as he gripped the hilt of his blade as he spoke in a menacing growl. "You can take your order and shove it, lady." What happened next, not a soul alive could have predicted.

The Jack moved for the mayor and kicked the giant forge-master in the knees, causing him to bow and be stunned, as the Knight bowled Anton over with a single push of his massive plated gauntlet. As the roguish being placed his clawed hand upon Gray's back, his other hand closed in a fist as a stream of shadow appeared in it and took the form of a bizarre, almost organic-appearing weapon. The Sword was split down the middle slightly, bisecting the actual blade into two fearsome and equally deadly edges. Hanging over the crosstree was a red cloth upon a hilt that was bound in a leathery substance. Few could take in the macabre beauty of the sword before it was thrust through Mayor Gray's chest straight through as if passing through a thin veil. A gasp of despair rang through the crowd as the Jack did not stop at simply impaling but continued to sadistically rip down the mayor's torso and pulling the lodged Sword out at Gray's gut, disemboweling him messily as he fell over, slain viciously in a matter of moments.

The butcher of Stoneplace scrambled to reach his feet and his cleaver but was met by the Knight's approaching steps instead. Anton looked up and pleaded, begged for mercy, to no avail as the Knight's mammoth crimson boot was brought down upon Anton's belly, splintering his ribs and causing the tips of shattered bone to jut out the sides. Though none could tell, the armored figure was immensely enjoying the blood-chilling screams of his victim as he writhed in unbearable pain, but though he took great fun in the human's suffering, he formed a otherworldly great axe in his hands, slamming it down with finality as Anton's head spun off through the crowd to the children's feet after being cut from its broken body.

Panic shook the villagers as he screamed and began to flee into their homes. In the chaos, the three children in the far back only stood as Cyrus began to weep for his executed father. Seeing the mayor's prostrate and eviscerated body from afar, Jessica shrieked in both horror and sadness. William only stood, paralyzed, as he saw the Court with his own eyes, frozen with dread but blazing with hatred as the Queen approached his delayed father slowly.

As Smith Black reached his feet, he was gripped as The Queen raised a claw-like finger, him rising up above the ground as she lifted up her arm leisurely. In her left hand, an ebony cutlass with a serpentine blade began to take form, her eyes narrowing maliciously behind the ivory mask as her voices rang out, while he attempted to struggle but had no control over his own body. "You worms were not the first to resist us…but you shall definitely be the last. You have opposed our will and as such have brought a lifetime of torment for your children…and their children to come." She opened the controlling hand, causing Smith to fly into its grasp while clutching his throat, as her blade stood primed to the side.

"Your agony shall be swift, however." His jaws clamped by magic, he could not scream in protest as he was twisted around or scream in pain as her blade sliced across his back and slicing him in half just above the waist. She released her hold as his body fell into two upon the ground, his flowing blood clashing with the verdant grass below him. His overdue cries of anguish released as he called for William, who was as a statue, his eyes wide and glossy at the sight of his dying father. Though at first hesitant, William moved to the elder Black, as he was only seconds away from death. His voice nearly silent, Smith looked to his son through pained eyes, like a sick animal. "S…Son…" Will, who had not cried in so long, allowed the tears to flow without end, to which Smith bore a weak smile and continued. "You…you've made me proud. Don't let them break you…or anyone else." As Smith's breathing ceased, William heeded his words in mournful silence as he placed his head upon his father's now-still chest as he sobbed quietly.

The black clouds had consumed the entirety of the blue sky, crushing all hope as it unleashed its terrible storm-song that bore no rain, but only lightning. As it struck the land, the plains burned in a matter of moments and even scarred deeper into the ground, causing it to blacken from the infernal ire of Albion's new masters. As doom settled in the hearts of its entire people from the ravages of the storm, they had finally resigned their pride and bowed to The Court.