Chapter 2: Seal of Secrets

Chapter 2

 

Back at the ritual grounds, deep beneath the citadel, the nobles were quite restless. How could they not be? What they are about to commit will change the path of the republic and their very life in the future. And the highborns were very much aware of it. Even the Counts knew that they must tread carefully.

“For....the republic, remember?”

A deep voice resonated throughout the torture grounds, residing deep below the citadel.

 

The interjecting voice slowly took part in the interlude and continued, “ Isn't that the absolute and outright cause for we torment ourselves, and thus it is absolute, our cause is absolute.. indeed it is obsolete”.

 

There they were. .

 

And revealed they were one by one by the blaze. Thus there were fourteen in total; Grand Dukes & duchess of three, Dukes & Duchesses of six, Marquess & Marquises of two, Count & Countess of two, alas the Grand Bishop of the citadel.

 

Although most of them were presented slightly deformed in some manner, spotted with blight and plague. They stood straight as they could as their cloaks touched their festering.

Although some of them decayed ever so slightly, they held their heads and chests tall.

Although pus exuded through their temples and lesions, they oozed grace and exhumed benevolence beneath their staled cloaks & blouses.

 

Underneath a truly revolting odour, two of the fourteen even had fats that no weights in the capital could have outweighed ,yet they still stood gracefully and firm like a titan boar.

 

They were imposing; grand and impressive

 

While the ever growing pervasive rays of fiery heat and light, gently permeated through the torture chambers . The firelights fiercely penetrated through the gems, golds and pusses leaked by the higher beings, producing marvelous refractions known to man across the dusty ceiling and walls.

 

”Indeed, Indeed ” profusely agreed the duke of Corinthium to the unknown voice before he could even wipe the blood off his bare chest.

 

“We assume it has been concluded then, the sudden end…death of our boy Peisis…. Crown Prince Peisistratos, afflicted by a mysterious curse’.”

 

”For the greater gu..good ,I suppose…” the lord tried to lighten up the air. Yet all he could grant was a kiss of death to a child, who had just lost his mother?. The duke couldn't help but pause before resuming his address .”Now then, ….fellow highborns, I truly hope our other ‘party’ hold true to their end of the agreement”, concluded the duke as he shot a piercing glance at the Grand Bishop ,only to receive a kind nod in return.

“Well then, I concur that our correspondence has come to an end for the time being but remember….our promises shall be gratified ,and never be spoken of.” added in, a lady of high serene among the fray and one of the high fourteen, Marquise Cyrene. She stood next to the pot as she initiated the vow; a pact of secrecy. Her bangles were broken and her bracelets came undone. And she stood in front of the bonfire as she fed it with her ornaments.

While her lips moved slightly up and down, her palms glowed scorching white, melting the golden ornaments inside out. Golden bangles, gold earrings, hair clips purely made of gold and other ornaments soon stopped resembling what they once were. From solid to boiling gold.

 

Her ritual began, while swelling tears loomed around the dimly lit tomb..

“Would his death be quick ?”Another question from another audience made the ceremony come to a grinding halt. The fire running amok dulled for an instance in response.

Silence screamed across the dungeon for a brief moment, before being shattered by a deep sigh.

 

“It will be”, the mysterious voice gave an ultimatum.

 

The small pot gave away under the intense heat and clattered, making its contents seep underneath, into the large vase. And the vassal started quivering and muffled cries of pain were to be witnessed by the decrepit walls. And the ritual continued in full force.

 

Just like the blights ravaged the republic’s farm lands. The heat spread throughout the pot, setting the linen and silk on fire. Some of the highborns even looked displeased at the intense heat, and their faces contoured. But they knew better than to stop the seal of secrets, and its effects…

 

They just had to wait it out.

 

And luckily Marquise Cyrene was about to finish her enchantment.

Her silver bangs slithered around and her breasts came crashing down towards each other as she clasped her outstretched hands together. The fire swiftly turned into white and black, not before enveloping the large vessel and her. The vassal made its last futile attempt to flee, and started shrieking in agony. All while the fire started swirling around her and the vase, burning both.

 

Doubts were struck but the die was casted. And the pot was about to be sealed and shut, silenced forever.

 

The convulsing and the flames were snuffed out at once, as Cyrene brought forth her hands together, forming the seal of Anjali Mudra.

'Tis done

she announced.

The ceremony had not just cost Cyrene, her silk gown and gold. But it was revealed shortly that the rite had drained much of her atral (mana). Even after using the substitute. Steam permeated through her bare babe build.

 

Though she was now devoid of any ornaments and decorations. Marquise Cyrene still looked stunning. Her sweat slowly trickled down her alluring face, down to the depths of her crevice. As she tied up her lush hair, she inevitably revealed her glistening nape. And her scent was enticing.
But before any further discoveries could be made, the light around them slowly started dying down. Rendering them into pitch darkness. And the master of the deep baritone voice swiftly wrapped the nude marquise with a fresh robe of linen.

 

Though the show was over, one could still swear the vessel quivered every so often ,with the meek wailings of a tortured young virgin trying to fill the empty space.

---

 

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The early sun was barely out, yet the aristocrats and the authorities of the citadel were wide awake, in search of their crown prince.

“Ayy master please reappraise thy path”

“Prithee reconsider thy odyssey, my lord”.

“Ayy sire. this old fool here, too can’t bear the thought of your grace placed in grave danger”.

“Your majesty, Please reconsider …”

 

A smirk from the figure tending to his horses silenced his beasts, best of all from the land and fields of the republic broke the slaves’ monologue.

A smirk, of a kind that granted the requiem they needed for their wild strong bodies & beaten minds and from their eternity of unfair-servitude.

A smirk, of the kind that was taller than the morning sun and brought down his seven foot tall dark inhabitants to their knees .

 

The five foot two figure was so engrossed in tending towards his four legged friends that he didn't mind the early sun giving him a warm kiss through the broken glass windows, lighting up his locks and silhouette.

 

He didn't mind the beds of haystacks piled upon.

He didn’t mind the seldom eruptions of his horses.

He didn't mind the fetid smelling feces of his stallions

Nor did he mind his entourage of deadly battle angels aside him in disguise , preparing for their journey while being on the lookout for scouts and spies.

 

He smiled haughtily as the red star and tightened the girth of his saddle all while nonchalantly nodding to the mute prayers of his now four legged animals. The young prince paused for a moment and couldn't help but scan the fellow young horizon filled with monasteries and tapestries. Relics of unknown contraption and tombs once built by his long lost ancestors stretched across the sea of clouds, daring to blind his view of the early horizon.

 

At last an unwilling thought came to his mind. A premonition of sorts.

 

Before he could delve deeper into such intricate thoughts, a fresh wave of cool air washed over him, forcing the crown prince to sigh in relief. His robes fluttered in the soft wind and his pendant chimed accordingly against the armor plates .

 

The pendant was his, but it belonged to someone else.

Not long ago, It belonged to a woman.

Few nights ago, It belonged to his queen.

At present it no longer belonged to his mother……the dead doesn’t require diamonds after all.

 

Once again he was interrupted. But only this time it wasn’t by big bulky men but by a mellow yet firm voice. The last knot was being tied, sealing their fate before Prince Peisian turned towards the source of his report.

 

“The stage is set for your grace”

revealed the intriguing lady of the order….his order. Peisian couldn’t help but peer at the creature.

 

Lips of cayenne pepper, gently tucked onto a tanned face, obscured mostly by a cloak meant to snuff out their atral scents. Her flat bosoms were well hidden behind the two inch thick plating, blessed by the wishes and protected by the code.

 

Her obsidian black mane came crashing down her shoulders as she bent her slender waist forward after she realised that she was being noticed upon, giving a modest bow to her liege in return. Even so, she was taller than him or was the crown prince shorter after all..

 

‘Must have been indoctrinated from a very young age’, Prince Peisian noted while gazing deeply into his vassal.

 

“A brunette at its finest hmmm…maybe a gift from the gods?” verbally contemplated the young prince as he roughened up his non-existent beard all while studying the lady before him.

 

Though the trained warrior had spent quite the recent few years with her liege, she still was vulnerable to such innuendos. Nonetheless she knew exactly the ways to parry his majesty’s light hearted perverted tendencies.

 

“Never knew the prince was so fond of gods to begin with. Maybe now can he be baptized ?” jested Hydna, the brunette from the Aegis protectorum. Although her mischievous gestures to her fellow legion, for an assist failed.

 

She ended up winning the standoff, all by herself. And the young prince broke his stare.

 

“What was that? I'm sorry, but I only heard something along the lines of fondle. If that was your deep desire why don't you say so. But a question still remains. To what extent? ” the crown prince nonchalantly asked a question of his own in return, tactically parrying away the blow with his well know perverted tendencies as he slowly returned to taking care of his steeds

 

“....W..Well …………This lowly one is not picky, master’” Hydna said as her alluring gaze met his, after a long pause and the Prince stopped in his tracks. He couldn't help but gaze back, deep into her eyes as he said out the phrase, “Truly intriguing..”

Before the prince could finish his sentence, their intimate parley was interrupted by a patch azure cloud seemingly sprouting in mid air, along the great fourth monolith of the eminent walls that encompassed the entire citadel .

The slaves for a just like the some of the denizens of the capital, couldn't help but briefly gawk and gasp over the bright blue puff of smoke bleeding into the dawn.

The elder amongst them soon understood its intent and ashamedly look back at the direction his lord once stood, only to witness there was none. Unbeknownst to his fellow slaves in horror, the old one let out a sigh in relief followed by a sneer in the direction the prince took off.

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