Tale of Four

Viridia sat atop the Red Throne of Bridgeway, a black stone chair with red velvet cushions fitted with hundreds of rubies. On the back of the throne, a red mosaic in the shape of a drop of blood decorated the back, spreading across the top of the armrest. Viridia leaned back, holding herself with the grace and dignity she had seen in her mother as four of the six major Lords of the Twin Peaks walked in and bowed towards her. One wore a banner of a mountain, the top of it coloured red rather than white; House Peak.

Next was a man wearing the sigil of a red castle similar to the banner of House Blackwell, House Redrook. Next to him was a man wearing a sigil of a blood drop on a green background; House Moss. Virida looked at them and nodded before looking at the final man who placed himself ahead of the other three.

The sigil he wore was that of House Fletcher, the Red Crown of the Blood Kings held up on a set of palms. "My Queen." Lord Fletcher spoke for the rest of the men, and Viridia smiled, the upper half of her head hidden behind a black veil. Atop her head, holding the veil in place, was a crown of red metal.

"Rise." With a silky voice, she spoke and looked out at the men. Each one was reaching the older years of their life, but despite that, their gazes held a burning fire, one born from religious devotion that hadn’t been washed away. "Our chance has come." Viridia’s long nails danced on the end of the throne, tapping into the rubies that lined it, as she thought of the news of Hymans’ death, stifling a laugh. "A chance we shall never get again."

Virida turned to Lord Fletcher and saw as he desperately tried to wipe the mad grin off his face. Behind him, the men had less enthusiastic looks at the thought of destroying the Cosmatons, but they were still happy about it, the hatred they felt after their families had been butchered all those years ago during the Red Rebellion. "Lord Redrook." Viridia looked to the man as he stepped forward and placed a hand on his chest. "Forgive me for asking you to do this, but you must commit some of your men to attacking the Artlands for our plan to work. I don’t wish to waste faithful blood, but I have no choice." Her voice was soft, almost sounding as if she would cry at the thought.

Lord Redrook shook his head and bowed deeper, "I understand, My Queen." Viridia sweetly smiled and indicated for him to step back.

"Now, we will fight for the usurper, but make no mistake, the stars are our enemies. We live to see them vanish." Virida’s long nails bounced up and down once again, making a rhythmic beat, as she calmed herself. "I want you four to prepare your armies. Have them ready to march at any moment, but never do. Any man you send to fight must be those who are unfit for war, or disloyal to the real mission." The four bowed. Lord Fletcher rose first and met Viridia’s eyes hidden behind the veil.

"What of Lord Stonewatch and Lord Cliff?" The room collectively frowned at the mention of the remaining two major families of Twin Peaks. To them all, they were fakes or the Twin Peaks. Installed after the Red Rebellion, when the two branch families of House Blackwell were wiped out in punishment. They didn’t follow the true mission and didn’t believe in their God.

"They will fight our war. Let them die in battle. Send who you will with them to keep up appearances, but never the true loyal." The room nodded in support. "Finally, I trust you all, but Lord Fletcher, I require soemthing extra from you." Lord Fletcher stepped forward. "The Cosmatons are spread across Veston. Take those you trust are discreet. Travel the continent and pluck the stars. Any you cannot deal with, call me."

Viridia stood up from her throne and climbed down the steps. With her long nails, she cut into her palm and held her palm out. Lord Fletcher knelt and held his hands up and stared at her with fervent ecstasy as he opened his mouth. From her palm, blood flowed out, flowing into his mouth. The blood slid down his throat, and with it, he shook in delight, bowing once Viridia pulled her hand away. Next, she walked to the other men who knelt and dipped her finger in the blood coming out of her palm, running it across their foreheads before retaking her seat.

The wound on her palm closed up unnaturally quickly until the injury vanished. "Blessed by Blood. Blessed by Life. You all carry the will of the Lord, and you shall complete their vengeance." The men knelt deeper into themselves.

"You honour us." Lord Fletcher said with a shaking voice, "Your will, their will, shall be carried out." Lord Fletcher said, "We live and die for the Saint of Life and his blood." The men repeated the words, and Virida smiled.

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Walking through the halls of the Everlight Palace, Tristan couldn’t help but lament to himself how empty the keep felt now compared to before the war. It always felt big, even when the halls were filled with servants, guards and courtiers, but now, many had been forced out, leaving the halls desolate in some parts, bar the occasional person. Walking through, Tristan didn’t plan to, but found himself on the balcony where Hank sat feeding his birds, looking out at the city that had yet to face the worst of the war.

"Tristan," Hank said with a soft smile, and Tristan instantly knew they were safe to speak more freely than they usually did.

"I see you survived the purge, old man." Hank chuckled and took out his seeds, throwing a few into his mouth. Holding his hand out, Tristan quickly ate the ones given to him and fell silent, standing and watching the city.

"I’m a loyal servant, Tristan. I serve the crown, not the Silent Chamber." Tristan smiled.

"It is still nice to know you are around, Hank. I don’t trust others to treat the birds as well as you." Going to one of the cages, Tristan picked up a young crow with a clipped wing and lovingly stroked it, getting a cry of acknowledgement from the bird. "How have you been? It’s been a while."

"Busy. War taxes the poor things, always having to fly out and deliver messages. Sometimes they never return." Hank frowned and shook his head. "What do you want?"

"Can I not come and see my friend?" Hank burst into laughter before coughing.

"Tristan, you and I are friends, but you’re not a kid anymore, and your position has changed. You don’t come here to see the birds anymore, and I don’t need to look after you. We both know that things are different. I mean, look at how you kept away when the King’s purge started." Tristan lowered his head in shame, making Hank chuckle. "Don’t feel bad. I don’t blame you; in fact, you were smart to do so. I couldn’t have been sure I wouldn’t end up on a chopping block, even if I am loyal."

"Either way, I’m sorry." Hank waved a hand. "You’re right. I’m wondering if Edmund has sent a message." Hank nodded and reached into his pocket, pulling out a thin scroll. Taking it, Tristan unfolded it and read.

’Tristan. It’s a shame you can’t come to it, but I’m getting married.’

Tristan paused and re-read, blinking and re-reading again, unsure if he had read it correctly. After a moment, he realised it was real and scoffed but smiled.

’Although Father says he will stay neutral no matter what, becuase of Mother, he has warned me I need to get married. So I finally asked the Lady I like, and she said yes.’

Tristan saw the ink shake a little in the writing and could tell Edmund was still excited even as he wrote.

’I know you can’t come becuase of everything happening, but I thought I would tell you. Mother said I should plan a name already, and I’ve decided. If it is a boy, he will be named Luis, after my father, but if it’s a girl, I was thinking Ana, after Annabell.’

Tristan’s hands tightened around the letter. Closing his eyes, he could feel the warmth in the words and giggled happily. It was so stupid, soemthing unnecessary, but it delighted Tristan beyond belief seeing those words.

’I just wanted to let you know. I’m sorry you can’t come, but when you get married, be sure to do so during peacetime so I can come. Your friend, Edmund.’

Carefully rolling the letter back up, Tristan slipped it into his sleeve and smiled to himself. "Good news, I assume," Hank said, pulling out a bundle of herbs rolled in thin paper before lighting it on a torch. Taking a deep inhale of the herbs, he visibly relaxed.

"Yeah. Edmund is getting married." Hank smiled and offered what he was smoking to Tristan. Tristan looked at it hesitently, making Hank shrug.

"I know you never accepted, but just this one time. In celebration." Hank flipped it around and took another deep inhale. "It ain’t poisoned, Tristan, just soemthing that makes you feel good."

Tristan stared for a while before smiling and taking it. Bringing it to his lips, he breathed in and violently coughed once it entered his lungs, making Hank laugh. Bending down, he picked it up off the floor. "You get used to it after a while," Hank said, taking another smoke.

"I see." Clearing his throat, Tristan took a final look at the city and nodded. "I best be going. I have what I came for." Hank waved his hand and leaned back into his chair, smoking, enjoying the sounds of the birds and the city.

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