Chapter Fifty Five

Unleashing the Mage Slayers

ELEANOR

Eleanor watched the far horizon from the balcony of her private chambers. The days were getting colder, the snow falling heavier. The landscape was already blanketed in white, and the skies grey and dull, ominous like a premonition.

Taking another pull of the whiskey in her glass, she set it down on the balcony ledge. A storm is coming. She snorted. Who would've thought that her dreams of imperial conquest would come to this? First sweeping across the land to conquer the continent, and then being halted by the Arendellians and their sorcerers, and now, the Coalition was pushing the Imperial Horde back to the capital of Exon where she was holed up.

The reality was crystal clear. Facts were facts. Her ministry of war reported that the Coalition was consistently knocking over any resistance put up by General Hydrech's divisions. The Empire's territory was rapidly shrinking, and soon the entire Coalition, ten divisions strong, would be at Exon's doorstep. My doorstep.

And then what? What would happen if the Imperial Horde failed to make a last stand and defend Exon? The Empire would be torn down, Exon's economy decimated, its people humiliated, and her name would go down in history as a short-lived and failed tyrant. No. I will not fail. She tightened her grip on the ledge till the whites of her knuckles showed frightfully.

She hadn't come this far, out of Deirdre's shadow and far away from her disapproving parents' expectations of her, only to fail now. Not when I'm so close. Eleanor clenched her jaw. She thought back to a time in her adolescence when her parents would chide her for performing poorly in her duties. They had always told her that unlike her older sister Deirdre, she would amount to nothing in life, and that failure would be her destiny.

Were Mom and Dad right all along? Eleanor shed a tear and rubbed it away angrily with the back of her hand. Am I destined to fail and bring Exon down with me?

A gust of wind blew at her back, but it didn't come from outside. Eleanor whirled sharply like a cat, and found someone standing there.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes. "Brother Salvadore."

"Sister Eleanor." Salvadore said mildly, features hooded by the brown cloak and hood over his head.

"Have you come to gloat?"

"No." Salvadore shook his head. "As you know, I am only His Eminence's messenger. I'll leave the gloating to him."

Eleanor took another gulp from her glass. "Terrific."

"I suggest you put that away when you talk to him." Salvadore said, glancing at the alcohol. "He's in a foul enough mood as it is."

"Whatever." She set her glass down forcefully enough that it cracked.

He looked at her curiously, and Eleanor thought she saw pity in his eyes. Then, he began muttering a spell under his breath, and dark clouds of mist began to materialise out of thin air, forming and swirling till they rose above Eleanor's head. They merged, twisted and turned till they formed the outlined features of a weathered man under a thick hood and cloak.

"Your Eminence." Eleanor sketched a curtsey, dreading every moment of it.

"Sister Eleanor." Lord Magnus' tone was sharp and unpleasant, even more so than usual. "I'm expecting good news."

She swallowed hard. "We…my army has encountered a minor setback."

"That's what you said the last time we spoke. And the time before that." Magnus growled. "Don't you think you can offer something better than the same excuse more than once?"

"Apologies, Your Eminence."

"Apologies aren't going to win the war." Magnus snapped in his gravelly voice. "Give me a real update."

Eleanor bristled. Since she'd first begun her alliance with the Crimson Order, she had taken a while to suppress her compulsion to snap back at the High Priest. It wasn't easy, since she was used to giving orders and not taking them, but she'd gotten used to it by now. "The Coalition has beaten the Imperial Horde again at Korynes. They're pressing on past the river and hills towards Netheide."

"And how do you intend to stop them?" Magnus said sternly. "You've failed thus far."

"I'm putting every available resource into stopping them. I'm sending Marshal Kane to take everything we have and rendezvous with the rest of the Imperial Horde that's retreating back to the capital." Eleanor felt her temper rising. "I could…use some help."

"You worry about your army." Magnus looked down his nose at her. "I will handle things on my end."

"Yes, Your Eminence."

"Do not fail me now, child." Magnus warned. "Or I will have your demon extricated from you. I will strip away your Empire, your title, and everything you hold dear. And when I'm satisfied that you've suffered enough for your failures, I will allow the Mage Slayers to kill you. This is your final chance."

"I won't fail you." Eleanor said through gritted teeth. "I won't fail the Crimson Order."

"You'd do well to remember that." With that, Magnus' form vanished from the dark clouds. The mist parted, swirling apart and returning to Salvadore's hand. They vanished, leaving no trace of demonic energy left in the room.

Eleanor narrowed her eyes at Salvadore, who had a calm smile on his face. "You enjoyed that, didn't you?"

"I have no desire to see you fail." Salvadore's face was unchanging. "But then again, you stand to lose more than any of us, and I do hope you succeed this time."

"I will succeed." Eleanor growled, picking up her fractured glass and chugging down the rest of the whiskey. When she set the glass down on the ledge and looked up, Salvadore was gone.

"Bah." She viciously swiped the glass off the ledge and it fell to the castle grounds below. Hands against the balcony parapet, she leaned hard, head bowed and red hair falling over her face.

And then, a knock came at the door, across the large suite she had locked herself in.

"What?" She snarled in a loud voice.

The door opened cautiously. It was one of her secretaries, a pale-faced boy with a shocking number of freckles who looked like he wasn't old enough to shave yet. He looked nervous and bowed deeply.

"Your Imperial Majesty." He said jerkily. "I'm sorry to disturb you, but you asked to be informed when the meeting is about to begin."

"Is it time?"

"Yes. The ministers are all downstairs in the Council Chambers." The boy said quickly.

She gave a grunt and swept across the suite in her long, crimson flowing dress. Her hair was unkempt, the curls tangled and dishevelled from having not maintained them for at least a week. Dark circles had formed around her eyes from lack of sleep, due to worry about her Empire's future and her own failure.

She hadn't bothered to slap on any cosmetics, as she never ventured out of her castle anymore. Not that she cared to look good in front of her ministers. They were here to do their job, not to ogle at their Empress.

Eleanor glared at the secretary. "Will the Chancellor be there?"

He gulped. "Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. He was the first one to arrive."

"Good." Her hardened features relaxed slightly. That was a relief. It was becoming increasingly clear to her that she was losing the trust and loyalty of her government. The war effort was taking a toll on the Empire, and the ministers and ministers had relayed the frustrations and anger of the Exonian locals. It was safe to say that if something didn't change soon, the entire Empire might very well turn against her.

Only Hans was keeping things together. As the Chancellor of Exon, he ran the day-to-day administration on her behalf, and he was largely liked by the ministers and the public. He did his job well, and he had charisma.

Two things that apparently she didn't have. Eleanor snorted again. Maybe he should be Emperor instead of her. Maybe her resourceful lover would find a way to somehow turn the war around in the Empire's favour.

Having him at the meeting would be a great comfort. Knowing that she still had someone on her side. But of late, he had grown more distant. That had made her insecure and worried. She'd always regarded him as her mutual lover, as he'd shown his affection and attraction to her over the many months they had been together. Was he slipping from her too? Was she unintentionally driving him away? She shuddered at the thought. No, she couldn't afford to lose her only ally left. Her confidant. Her lover.

Eleanor pushed past the secretary and stalked into the hallway. Servants stopped abruptly and bowed, but she ignored them. These days, she didn't bother with the hired help. These peasants would just as soon turn on her if the opportunity arose, and she was determined not to give it to them. No. She was going to hold onto her Empire with her dying breath.

Downstairs in the Council Chambers, a footman barely managed to announce her arrival before she swept in haughtily. As the boy had reported, everyone was already present, speaking in hushed tones. Most of these ministers and ministers were middle aged men and women, all unhappy with the current leadership. She didn't need to catch a word to know they were all talking about her. The chatter died down instantly the moment they heard that the Empress had arrived.

The atmosphere changed instantly, so much so that Eleanor could feel it. Not that she cared. She knew that all these formalities put on by these simpering twits were all for show anyway. Looking down her nose at them, she took her place at the head of the table. Her chair was special, ornamented with jewels and extra plush to provide more comfort and to set it apart as a seat meant for the crown.

"Whiskey." She held out a hand and a servant immediately came running with a glass of fine whiskey. The staff had come prepared.

Glass in hand, she sat down gingerly, she casually studied the individuals seated at the table. Many faces she knew by sight, but couldn't remember their names. A minister of trade here, a minister of finance there…The one she really knew was Duke Anton, a plump noble who had been around since the days when her father ruled Exon. He was smart enough to obey her without question, even though that made him a mindless twit. But at least he was loyal, though she wasn't sure if that was still the case now.

Another face she recognised was Kane's. The Field Marshal hadn't been out on the battlefield in person since his disfigurement in the Battle of Arendelle. Instead, he delegated command to his best generals, one of which was Hydrech. However, Hydrech had been losing as of late, and soon Kane would need to step in to take active command again. Eleanor thought that his absence from action might have had something to do with his injuries that he'd sustained during the Battle of Arendelle, but she never bothered to ask. As long as he did his job as Commanding Officer of the Imperial Horde.

And finally, the last face she knew was positioned at the the opposite end of the table. There sat Hans, the distinguished Chancellor of Exon. As always, he looked well spruced up in a full suit of white, and in complete control. There was no doubt who held the respect and admiration of the men in this room, and it certainly wasn't her. Eleanor gritted her teeth. He'd outshone her, but no matter. They know who's ultimately in charge. They know fear.

Hans cleared his throat and stood up. "Good evening, Your Imperial Majesty. I'm glad you could join us."

Taking a sip from her glass, Eleanor dipped her head in his direction. His tone was formal. Cold. Precise. Unfeeling. Unlike how he usually spoke to her in private. Or was she just imagining things? Had she lost his trust too?

"On that note, I believe we can begin." Hans said, glancing at the minister of war. "Count Schulzmacher, if you would be so kind?"

"Certainly, Your Excellency." Schulzmacher cleared his throat, eyes betraying nervousness in his Empress' presence. "I'd like to begin with a report on the war effort." He tried his best to avoid Eleanor's gaze. "We've received word from our signallers that the Imperial Horde has…been pushed back from the city of Korynes and over the river. The Coalition is not quartering over the winter, as we anticipated. They are still pushing on through the snow into our territory."

"Fools. How long before they reach Exon?" Eleanor asked tersely.

Schulzmacher gulped, then turned to Kane as if pleading for his intervention. "Field Marshal?"

"It's hard to say, Your Imperial Majesty." Kane spoke slowly. He still wore the half mask that covered his facial scars on the right side. His uniform was immaculate, complete with the five shiny stars that marked him as the highest ranking officer in the Exonian army. It was still fresh and untainted, having not seen the rigours of the battlefield yet. "Once they get past Netheide, probably a week. Maybe more. The snow might slow them down, but eventually they'll arrive."

"They cannot get past Luftzeit." Eleanor growled. "If they do, there's nothing stopping them from bursting through the gates of Exon."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty. We're working on it." Kane said stoically.

"Work harder." Eleanor snarled. "The damned Coalition will be at our gates soon, and I refuse to see my Empire crumble. The Empire I built. My legacy. You will take everything we have and reinforce Hydrech's divisions. You will stop the Coalition, or I will have your head and the heads of all your officers."

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." To her annoyance, Kane's face was still characteristically blank.

"That goes for the rest of you." Eleanor lifted her voice menacingly. "I want every resource directed towards the defence of Exon. Wages, food, supplies, labour. I want the union workers, cooks, laundresses, farmers, cab drivers, and every damn person in the city contributing to the war effort. No one will get a cent of their salaries until we win this war. Anyone who disagrees will answer to me."

The room had gone very silent, and Eleanor was quite sure she could hear the heavy, nervous breathing of the people in the room.

Without warning, she stood and her chair screeched unceremoniously. Snatching the glass with the remaining alcohol, she hurled it against the wall. It crashed loudly, glass fracturing into a thousand pieces. "IS THAT UNDERSTOOD?" Eleanor screamed.

"Yes, Your Imperial Majesty." The voices chorused and overlapped in haste to answer their crazed, enraged monarch.

"Good. We're done here." Eleanor turned and stalked out of the room, leaving it in complete silence and shock.

HANS

"If she hadn't gone mad before, she has now." Count Schulzmacher grumbled.

"She's insane. Unfit to be on the throne." Count Bergerdun declared.

Even the simpering twit Duke Anton nodded. "Unfortunately I have to agree, Her Imperial Majesty isn't of sound mind any longer. We have to do something."

"But what?"

Hans sat in his seat, listening to the ministers and ministers grumble and argue amongst themselves in Exonite. Eleanor had stormed out of the Council Chambers after threatening everyone, and if it hadn't been clear before that something was wrong with the monarchy, it was crystal clear now.

He suppressed a smile. Seeing Eleanor like this was daunting and unsettling, but it fit so nicely into his grand scheme. It might not have seemed like it, what with the Coalition approaching and the Empire in danger, but things were no doubt falling into place for him.

"Ladies. Gentlemen." Hans stood up, waving his hand apologetically to get their attention.

The room gradually fell silent. The ministers and ministers all feared Eleanor, but the majority of them respected Hans and would listen to him. He was the second most powerful individual in the Empire after all.

"As Chancellor of Exon, I must implore you all to press on." Hans said in a loud, sympathetic voice. "I'm very well aware of the struggles you all face. Some of you have even brought your concerns to me, but there is only so much I can do with the authority I have been given. My hands are tied."

"There must be something you can do." Someone called out from the other end of the table. "Your Excellency, the Empress is fond of you. Reason with her. She has to see that she is leading us to the downfall of Exon!"

The voices rose again as the men began to shout desperate suggestions at him and some argued amongst themselves.

He held up a stiff hand for silence, and they fell quiet once more. That's power one can't buy, he mused silently.

"I know you are all upset. I am too. But these days, even the Empress won't listen to me. I'm afraid there's nothing any of us can do while she's still in power."

"Then what are you suggesting we do?" Count Bergerdun asked.

"Exactly what the Empress told you to do." Hans said. "Our hands are tied, and we just have to press on for now until I can find a way to appeal to her better judgement." Before any of them could raise any more protests, he continued quickly. "Excuse me. I have a lot of work to attend to, as I'm sure all of you do too. Thank you for coming today. That is all."

With that, he walked out of the room briskly, trying to suppress the smile on his face. Yes, things were falling into place. The seeds of doubt were there. The mistrust, the animosity against Eleanor. The chess pieces were set. Just a few more moves till the endgame.

###

The cold, winter evening was enough to keep everyone indoors. No one was out and about in the snow-covered streets of Exon, not even the night merchants or the hackney cab drivers. The air was chilly, thin and incredibly hard to breathe as the snow fell incessantly.

No one in their right mind would be outside tonight. No one except Hans. The Chancellor of Exon pulled his dark blue winter coat up to his neck as he descended down into the tunnels below the Kalneron Cathedral in the heart of the capital.

He'd given strict instructions for the Imperial Blitzguard to remain behind in the castle to keep an eye on things - and also to spy on Eleanor if possible. Her increasingly erratic actions and unstable state of mind was of concern to him. She was the one variable that still posed a threat to his plan, and Hans couldn't risk that. Eleanor was a liability that had to be accounted for.

Alone, Hans descended. Down and down into the depths below, where the Crimson Order lurked. This time, the winding tunnels felt more familiar, though the stench was still far from welcome. Finally, he debouched from the dark catacombs and into the huge cavern that branched out into a few other tunnels.

Lord Magnus was in the main cavern, speaking at length with a couple of his subordinate priests in long brown robes. These men weren't hooded, as they normally were. Even Magnus had pulled back his hood, peeling back the mysterious facade that labelled him as an enigmatic, dangerous force to trifle with. Instead, Hans just saw a weathered old man, afraid and desperate at last after all his other avenues had been exhausted.

As Hans entered, Magnus noticed him and the others turned to face him as well. He felt his hair stand on end but kept his expression level, giving them a polite nod instead.

"Your Eminence." Hans said.

"Brother Hans." Magnus glanced at the men gathered around him and nodded. They instantly grew less stiff but still regarded Hans cautiously.

"You're just in time, actually." Magnus went on. "I'm about to dispatch the Mage Slayers." He turned to the Mage Slayers before him. "You may go."

They bowed, pulling the hoods over their heads. "Ignahon Malkovtoh." They uttered together, and a chill filled the room as if by some twisted coincidence. Then without another word, they slipped off into the deeper parts of the stronghold.

Hans watched them leave. The Mage Slayers. The Order's strongest demon hosts and personal assassins of Lord Magnus. "I see you decided to take my advice." He said pleasantly.

Magnus waved a hand sourly. "Sister Eleanor has failed to stop the Confederation's armies thus far, and they draw nearer every day. What's more, I now hear that the League of Sorcerers have been pardoned. There will be a reckoning for that."

"Hmmn." Hans said noncommittally.

"Circumstances have forced my hand." Magnus went on grudgingly. He ran a hand through his receding hairline. "I have no choice but to send the Mage Slayers out into the field in hopes they'll get the job done."

"I wouldn't bet on it." Hans muttered beneath his breath. There was no way the old man would hear him.

"We cannot risk them coming any closer." Magnus growled. "If the Coalition storms Exon, our stronghold here will be compromised. We'll have to start all over again. If it really comes down to it, we will need to begin plans for transporting all the caged demon hosts out of here before the damned Coalition lays siege to the capital. It'll be hell trying to organise that."

"It will be." Hans agreed. "Fret not. I'm working around the clock to see that we emerge victorious."

"You do that." Magnus said and spun as an iron gate squealed open. "Ah," He drawled, clasping his hands together. "Finally."

Hans watched as two men in brown cloaks dragged a third figure struggling and yelling towards them. As they drew nearer, Hans recognised the third man. That grey hair, full frame and wrinkled features were unmistakable.

"Unhand me." King Uxzas growled, struggling futilely against the two men. "I am the King of Molcorra, and I will have your heads if you don't let me go."

"You're out of your jurisdiction, I'm afraid." Magnus said ominously as the two men threw Uxzas at his feet.

From the side, Hans watched in amusement. He was truly curious to see what came next.

"Lord Magnus," Uxzas grunted and scrambled to his feet. "What is the meaning of this? I did everything you asked!"

"I must be mistaken then. Did I ask for the CAST to be abolished? Did I ask for the League of Sorcerers to be pardoned and reintegrated into society?" Magnus stared a hole through the Molcorran king.

Uxzas' face grew pale and his body stiff. "No, Your Eminence. Please. I did everything I could to prevent it."

"And still you failed." Magnus looked at him disapprovingly. "I gave you one simple task. Get rid of the sorcerers, and you couldn't even do that right."

"No, you're wrong. I fought to keep the CAST in place for months!" Uxzas hissed. "You have no idea how much effort it took, coordinating the capture and imprisonment of those monsters. I lost good men."

"I miss the part where that's my problem." Magnus said coldly. "You've failed, and now you must pay the price."

"No, please!" Uxzas' voice rose desperately as the two men in brown cloaks seized him by his arms again. "I'm sorry, I'll do anything. Anything you want! Fight to have the CAST reinstated? Blackmail the other Confederation members? Anything, just name it!"

Magnus sighed and shook his head. "I'm afraid the time of the CAST is over. It's time I turned to less subtle tactics to get the job done."

"Magnus, wait! Uxzas shouted desperately. "You need me! I can still be useful!"

"Wrong. Your part in all this is over." Magnus looked at him in disdain. "I have no more need of you. Take him away and dispose of his body."

"Ignahon Malkovtoh." The two brown cloaks dragged the shouting and kicking Uxzas away, his protests and pleading falling on deaf ears and echoing throughout the cavern.

"I'd thought you would torture him and make him suffer first." Hans mused when they were gone.

"I'm a pragmatic man." Magnus said callously. "Unlike you, I don't take pleasure in toying with my victims and enemies. I just get the job done."

"That's where we differ, then." Hans said.

"And I will get the job done." Magnus went on, ignoring Hans' response. "I will finish what my predecessors started. I will complete the Holy Crusade. This world will be purged, and the Crimson Order will not fall." He touched a fist to his chest. "Ignahon Malkovtoh."

"If you say so." Hans muttered as he walked away from Magnus. "I have my eye on my own prize."

Author's Commentary:

Always a joy to write from the villains' perspective. Gives you a glimpse into their fractured and messed up psyches. While the Warriors toil and labour to uncover the secrets of the Crimson Order, the villains have their own endgame falling into place. And we will get there very soon.