It was raining again, as it almost always did on the Weeping Peninsula. It made it an ideal place for growing crops but unsuitable for comfort.
Still, Rykard looked north toward Stormveil Castle and wondered if his brother had executed his plan against Godwyn. Radahn never said precisely what he intended to do. Still, whatever it was, Rykard wanted as close to Godwyn's reaction as he could get without showing himself.
And Godwyn well deserved it. Ranni was too young for that level of intimacy, which showed how confused she was over the whole affair. Such things deserved some sort of punishment, if only to make it clear to Godwyn that they disapproved of her being treated that way.
When Rykard and his men arrived at the catacombs, there was no certainty about what they might expect inside. These heretical cults were as unique in their resources and approach as in their belief. Each one touting some twisted new perversion of Marika's Golden Order.
This one had an odd obsession with death, that ailment that demigods such as himself were no longer vulnerable to. And with Marika's promise of grace, many might see themselves living lives far beyond what was natural or spun into something anew.
It was a terrifying ordeal for those who still experienced it and were known as mere mortals. So, they started to worship it like it was their own god. Either way, their beliefs didn't matter in the end.
Rykard rubbed his hands together in anticipation as the battering ram slammed hard against the wooden doors. He thought to remind his men that each heretic brought back alive was extra payment. Still, as Preator, favors were of more interest to him than any material gain. And many of those favors were best secured with bloodshed.
Such was necessary for the insurance of any robust regime.
The door splintered open, and Leyndell's knights rushed in. The battle echoed out through the chambers while Rykard waited.
The strategy was to overwhelm the heretics with numbers and prevent their retreat deeper into the catacombs, where the traps might pose a danger to his own men. It was a small matter anyway, as it was a risk those who swore service to the Queen took on.
When the fighting went silent, Rykard was approached by Inquisitor Ghiza. The man seemed annoyed that Rykard chose to attend this invasion personally, as he masterminded the entire raid and conducted the investigation into this particular cult. To have the Preator himself make an appearance he interpreted as meaning that Rykard had no faith in his ability.
It wasn't personal. Rykard wanted to be somewhere nearby when Radahn pulled off his "revenge" against Godwyn. What better excuse than hunting heretics in a place where people started to lose their faith? He was sure Godwyn wouldn't like it, but this was for Ranni. While he was sure she would be a fantastic mother to her two daughters (and, to be fair, Godwyn would make a fine, supportive father), the tears she shed, Rykard couldn't get from his mind.
When Rykard entered the catacombs, the place was covered in blood with the smell of fresh death among the moldering bones of those long past. A few moaned as they lay bleeding out from their wounds.
There were a few detained that only suffered minor injuries. The soldiers shoved them up against the walls to tie their hands and feet together. One reported they intended to search the rest of the place but hadn't found the mechanism to open the door. They suspected it was behind the large fire-spewing traps, but they weren't sure it was worth the effort to find it.
There was a sure way these people conducted themselves. No one was "in charge," but Rykard could tell by a glance if someone was the "defacto" leader. This look was given by a middle-aged woman dressed in heavy armor that was rusted and pitted from years of use.
Rykard made eye contact with her as Ghiza spoke, "I am Inquisitor, the judiciary authority of Queen Marika. It is a role that I take very seriously. And the whole of you are guilty of heresy."
"How can we be guilty with neither the benefit of a trial nor any advocate in our own defense?" said the glaring woman.
"You are mistaken. Your involvement in heresy is already established and well-known. You are not being brought in to determine guilt but for your sentencing," said Ghiza.
"So, does the queen no longer honor her pardons?"
Ghiza's face turned red.
"Who is this woman to think she can speak to Queen Marika's authority like this?" Rykard asked.
"Her name is Lhutel, Praetor," said Ghiza. "And a full-fledged heretic."
"Our organization has Queen Marika's guarantee that you will not interfere with our rites," said Lhutal.
"Baseless claims of ties to the Golden Lineage is heresy," said Ghiza.
"Heresy is only heresy when the claims are not true. Why don't you look in my satchel?" said Lhutel.
Rykard did so without breaking eye contact. Once he had the paper, his eyes glanced at it. At first, he thought it was a forgery. Many tried that, not realizing that the Queen rarely, if ever, handed out pardons. She would destroy an entire nation sooner than let any imperfection affect the Lands-Between.
Yet, here it was! Scribed upon a parchment that was indeed the Queen's pardon in her own words and written and signed with her own hand. It was distinct, and Rykard would never mistake it anywhere. Every letter perfectly formed in her steady hand.
Rykard looked at Ghiza, angry at how much he failed this investigation. He shoved the note in Ghiza's hand to punctuate the point.
"You may go," Rykard growled.
"A letter of pardon! Can you believe it?" said Rykard.
When Tanith heard Rykard was returning home early, she had his favorite brandy brought from the cellar and a bath prepared from Volcano Manor's hot springs. Aside from taking a snifter full of brandy, Rykard was more interested in ranting and pacing than he was in his bath or the naked woman waiting under the sheets.
"Had that half-wit Ghiza done even the minimum of research, he would have known such a thing," said Rykard.
"It's good that you were at least paying attention," said Tanith.
"It was a waste of time and resources. I didn't even have an opportunity to check in on my sister," said Rykard.
"And how is the dear princess?"
"A girl her age ought not to be seduced. She insists Godwyn didn't rape her, but I'm certain he was persuasive," said Rykard. "I hope whatever Radahn has planned is worth it."
"Like stealing away your youngest sibling?" Tanith asked.
"What?"
"Blaidd was here earlier. Malenia is missing," said Tanith.
"And you said nothing!"
"You said that Radahn was looking for his revenge. It was easy to figure out what happened," said Tanith.
"That cad!" exclaimed Rykard.
"Your brother will not harm her."
"Does the fool have any idea just how ill she is? Of course, he doesn't! He's never around her."
"I had thought that demigods are beyond death."
"Bah! Scarlet Rot will make you wish you weren't. Worse than that, vile disease is the 'treatment,' and I use that term lightly. A torture, more like it. I accompanied her many times to it. The poor little thing was so terrified that she wet herself. Could you imagine? To repeatedly traumatize a child like that! It was worse than anything I could ever dream up on my own," said Rykard as he sat on the edge of the bed, trying to hold back tears. "But Miquella is the apple of my father's eye and the hope of his ambition. They preserve her life to make him happy rather than granting her the relief she rightly deserves."
Tanith wrapped her arms around Rykard and whispered, "I'm so sorry, my love."
"Nothing to be sorry about. It is the nature of 'Golden Order' fundamentalism. Marika promised a world where those who earn grace needn't fear death, and her children are to be an example of that grace. Even if she won't grant it evenly to everyone," said Rykard.
He got up and began looking through the notes on his desk. Tanith rolled her eyes, "What are you up to now? Come to bed, my love."
"Sorry, dear, but I scheme better when I'm not sober. And since Godwyn needs punishment. Since my brother is an imbecile, I must do it properly," said Rykard.
"And what can you embarrass Godwyn with?"
"Nothing yet. It's not as though Marika would allow him a drop of her life-giving dew to impregnate any of his lovers."
"But she did for your sister."
"That's different. There was a lot for her to gain from having some grandchildren running around," said Rykard.
The whole thing was a messy affair that would take historians and scholars volumes to sort through its causes. Suffice it to say, everyone was embroiled in whatever "it" was. Rykard's position gave him much insight but not enough to truly understand the next steps.
He relayed this to Tanith as best he could reason with as little speculation as possible. And she listened as she always did but seemed a little impatient that he couldn't put his work away for only a few minutes.
Rykard was well aware the age was coming to its swift demise. The Erdtree's roots were spread as far as they could and were now tearing the Lands-Between apart as it strained for more nutrients to sustain itself. It longed to grow and expand beyond the world as it was known, beyond the fog and into the realms of the Outer Gods if needed.
This was no secret if anyone bothered to listen to many of Marika's ramblings to Maliketh. She made many promises as a conquerer of peace and prosperity. Still, she always deferred this for a later time when all the lands were under her reign. But in time, those debts became due, and the QueenQueen found her promises conflicted with her nature.
Marika's nature was in destruction, and her heart was in conquest. She felt Godfrey was the only one who understood her and nurtured these needs without question. And yet, she was a vessel for another will, a Greater Will. One that felt no need to expand further. It desired Marika dispose of Godfrey and marry a new Lord more suited for an age of peace and prosperity. One who would not look to entertain Marika's destructive tendencies.
Marika refused.
This refusal to comply emboldened others, like Queen Rennala, to challenge Marika, lest the QueenQueen turn her violence towards them. And she did just that: sending Champions like Radagon to quell the dissenters in bloodied combat. Rykard laughed as he mused at the irony; rebellions started because of Marika's violence, which only served to feed into it.
Although once an aggressive conqueror himself, Radagon had surrendered his violent nature to marry Rennala, which, ironically, the Greater Will considered more suitable to its vision. It compelled him to leave Rennela.
None of this ended the feuds and in-fighting. There were just as many ideas of what the next part of this age should look like as there were people. Ranni believed that a new era was necessary, but not at the expense of everything that came before. She thought, rather naively, that a perfect union between the Golden Sun and the Silver Moon could be created without a violent end. And that was what drove much of her unrelenting love for Godwyn even as he mistreated her.
This seemed a fair compromise as many fundamentalists believed only one of the Golden Lineage could be their Lord, and of which there was only Godwyn. They merely tolerated Ranni and would not likely ever actively support her as their goddess.
Radahn believed in the Golden Order that Godfrey built, and Radagon sustained. His thoughts reflected his willingness to take Malenia as his Empyrean bride when she was old enough. She was the one whose temperament was most like their father. But he seemed largely ignorant that she was controlled by an Outer God herself and likely forced to do its will.
Radagon believed his son, Miquella, was more adherent to the goals of the Golden Order and thus should rule, even as Marika clearly chose Ranni.
"So, the Greater Will won, didn't it? It forced her to banish Godfrey with his warriors and marry your father," said Tanith.
"It did, but not without much resistance on Marika's part. If she had her way, I'm sure she'd have an Empyrean child with Godfrey and be off in the stars warring against some Outer God somewhere. She tried desperately to produce an heir on her own. Took on many lovers but nothing. It's a sad story, really. I almost feel a great amount of pity for her if she wasn't such a maniac. Imagine being queen yet still very much a slave," said Rykard. "At any rate, I don't think my stepmother cares any longer who rules the Lands-Between, so long as it isn't her."
"And what do you desire, my love?" said Tanith.
Rykard paused. No one had ever asked him that, so he had never thought of it. It wasn't as though it was something anyone would see happen, even if he did.
"Well, it's not you right now," he replied.
Ghiza's notes were detailed, showing that he at least had some concept of order. It detailed various cult members.
"If Queen Marika granted these heretics with a letter of pardon from her own hand, it stands to reason that their claims might have some credit, and Ghiza indeed stumbled across her bastard brood," said Rykard.
"And how does this help you?" scoffed Tanith.
"With good old fashioned blackmail and extortion. And rather than let Ghiza's sloppy investigation go to waste, perhaps he found something about those claiming to be 'Marika's children.'"
"That's not blackmail, my love, if everyone knows your stepmother took on many lovers to produce a suitable heir to godhood," said Tanith. "It's hardly a scandal at this point."
"Shut it and let me think. I'm already getting sober. One hardly jumps into a man's bed repeatedly without things becoming complicated and messy," said Rykard. He thumbed through the notes that were not in any particular order.
"You really ought to hire a clerk."
"I said shut up! Or I send you deflowered back to your homeland."
"That's an enticing threat, my love. You think you could hurry with the deflowering part?"
"Darling, I wasn't aware you liked me to be so quick," said Rykard.
Tanith frowned, "I wasn't aware you could do it any other way."
Rykard had to smile. This is why he loved this woman even as she annoyed him. With his near absolute authority over who lived and died in Marika's realm, she dared challenge him, which he found alluring. She resisted him when he had her brought to his chambers for a private dance, and Rykard revealed his desire as something more. One by one, he exposed her many secrets.
Under the modest dignity that was custom was a woman kindled by passion and attracted to power, which Rykard offered both. And while she scoffed at the traditions of the Golden Order and Queen Marika's godhood, she helped Rykard see its inherent flaws.
As Rykard went to ravish her, as he had done many times before, he dropped Ghiza's notes that listed the names of Marika's claimed descendants, and it fell open under the desk.
Godrick the Golden; claimed the descent of Queen Marika and First Elden Lord Godfrey through the Golden Lineage.
He climbed into bed and began kissing his mistress, starting first with her cheek and then her neck. She uncovered herself, which made her all the more difficult to resist.
"Would it be so hard for you to beg your stepmother for a drop of her dew?" sighed Tanith as Rykard continued.
"She doesn't even know about you," scoffed Rykard.
"Then why not steal it?" she asked. "Just one drop, my love. Make me pregnant with your child. That is my desire."
"You would raise a child here? Under the Golden Order? Under Marika? After what she threatened to do to your home and your gods?"
"I would gladly be in a kingdom with you seated as Lord and a child between us," she sighed. She whispered into his ear, "Lord Rykard. How does that sound to you?"
"It sounds like heresy, that's what," he said.
"Let me repeat it. Lord Rykard," she repeated.
"Stop! This is about getting my sister back safely. Not anything else," said Rykard.
"You would waste whatever you find on that girl instead of using it?" asked Tanith. "You deserve this, Rykard."
"I said stop it!" he shouted. Perhaps it was the drink, or something else. Either way, Rykard's head was so fuzzy, he didn't realize his hands were at Tanith's throat until her face turned red. He stopped, horrified at himself.
Tanith spent a moment choking with her hands on her neck.
"Tanith, I'm sorry... I..."
He reached for her.
"Don't touch me," said Tanith as she slapped his hand away. "Don't you dare accuse me of not sympathizing with your sister! She's a precious child who has been wrongly abused. But she is also not in any danger with Radahn. Don't you trust him to have her best interest? Do you have her best interest? You curse the Golden Order even as you serve it."
"Don't you dare suggest that!" said Rykard.
"Then rise," said Tanith. "Be that Lord."
Here you see, flowing from a desert, a lunar, white water which is from the old progenitor of all things, spread on two paths. This is the dangerous dry path that goes from the oiliness of the earth, from the primordial chaos. The other wet path from our black, heavy and white lump; but that the snakes creep in the grass. (Roob, 328)