Ashes & Toxins: Toxic Forest Burned Down

Tears Of The Second Wife

Within the majestic palace, an enchanting scent of flowers perfumes the air, emanating from the bountiful blooms that grace its halls. Soft mats of vibrant orange, yellow, and purple adorn the floors, complementing the walls adorned in regal shades of the same hues. The ceiling, a masterpiece of artistry, depicts a celestial tableau, capturing the ethereal beauty of the heavens above. Delicate wisps of coconut and rose incense intertwine with the floral ambiance, casting a mesmerizing spell upon all who enter. A day later, the king summons his privy council, the esteemed lords, to his presence.

"Lords, I have gathered you here today for a purpose that is all too evident," he begins, his voice carrying the weight of suspicion. "One among you harbors aspirations for my throne. Listen well! I am aware of the one who desires my demise. You perceive me as mad, but I possess the power to drive you to madness. I can unleash a conflagration that engulfs the entire kingdom, and I will emerge unscathed from the ashes while you all lie charred. I am Fire, the bringer of flames."

"Your majesty, it is our sworn duty to ensure your tranquility and security," Igual Donnely, the Windseer interjected, attempting to calm the tense atmosphere. "We all pledge to protect you and your rule—"

"Silence! Be careful of inviting fire and burning yourself!" the king interrupts, his voice commanding attention. "I have an utmost important announcement to make. My son, Prince Rhossane, shall embark on a quest to seek a renowned knight, one bolder than the late Toad. Lord Maali, prepare his ship and provide whatever provisions he requires. Ser Gorm, instruct your wife to find a superior wet nurse for my daughter, Princess Oblaka. Seek someone with ample bosoms and delectable milk. Taste it if necessary! You are all dismissed!"

Razaz Qronfol'llams, the Master of Heads, served two kings before Reyssane finally dons his Red mask. He is an old stuck up asswipe, for anything the king desires he brings. The raging fire must scarcely be seen before it lights the flame of Five.

Until recently, fights among the council break out everyday. They have not been kind to each other. Each seeking power in their own way. Some, when the king's falls from grace, will transform into powerless names and others might be replaced by the crown prince. Although the king's madness fluctuates, he can still remember who he holds dearly in his life.

Tu'ets Seeyirvs, the Bearer of the King's Words, Souad Greahall, the Bearer of the Key, Wade Asal, the Poison Expert, and Gorm Ishtong, the Master of Swords, exchanged incredulous glances, their faces reflecting their shock. There were many enigmatic facets of the king that eluded their understanding. His mind is indeed rapidly obscured from logic by the metaphorical glare of Red Mask's flame. The king rarely sent his son away, fearing for his heir's safety. The king has abandoned rationality, which unfortunately brings his realm closer to its doom. Every member of the privy council is of the same belief. Some things need changing and this Red Mask is one that drastically needed to hide another face underneath its gold skin. The realm reflected madness. Each headache, dizziness and thirst for a change. The opportunity to start fresh after witnessing years of their ruler ripping families apart and burning everyone. These are feelings developing surprisingly fast among hearts. The king keeps going, constantly reminding the world Ssane clan ruled the realm unopposed. Arne Tsaghik, the Master of Winds, Igual Donnely, the Windseer, Pa'lul Dioe, the Observer of Seas, and Caoxa Oustache, the Coinsmith, observed the scene with a buzzing sound in their ears that disturbed them.

Still the motionless dance between realm and Fire, prayers and whispers of doctrines. Which do the masses worship? Five, of course. Five. See, listen, here is Five, who did as much in the continent as any other old god. Five is a god with five heads. Each head signifies something. The first Life. Second Death. Third Rebirth. Fourth Yes. Fifth No. Pretty well, Five is many and complains never about offerings not made. The fact is, that no human words can adequately express the anxieties of the soul, therefore in moments of confusion they turn to Five for help. "Do you harbor evil intentions? Yes and No."

The household blames heresy for every war that springs forth. Its unspeakable growth in the act of worshiping false gods or its deadly terror after realizing  the toxic forest grows faster and faster, spreading quicker every time a false prayer is said by a heretic.

"Is it wise to let your heir venture forth when a new prince has just been born?" Lord Wade inquired in a monotone voice. "There is still the matter of acknowledging Prince Reyssane within the household."

"The baby, the baby, the last child she bore—a prince," the king mused, a sense of disdain tainting his words. "What is the child's name? Reyssane? I cannot allow him to bear my name. I am fire. Where I burn men, he burns his mother's womb, a disgrace. I detest his name. Choose a new name that reflects his status as the final fruit of his mother's fertility. Osrassane shall be his name now. Let the household resist the temptation to bestow blessings upon him until the return of prince Rhossane. Dismissed!"