The Frozen Throne

Ring's Memories Part 3

The Starscourge was indeed peculiar. Over the past few years, it had begun to spread among the populace. No medical art could cure it, nor could any tonic stem its progress. Those who fell ill were thrust into despair, realizing full well the fate that awaited them. Thus, the scourge was greatly feared among the people. Some declared it a curse; others deemed it punishment from the gods. But in truth, it was neither curse nor punishment. It was certainly no retribution from the gods. Of that much Ardyn was certain. It was simply a disease. He knew as much because it could be cured, though not with any herb.

“Their assaults on others are born from the anguish of their affliction,” Ardyn told his brother. “The souls inside remain free from blame. We must simply purge them of this disease before they reach that state. In doing so, we may save those nearby from harm.”

The scourge brought transformation. The body grew black as jet, and the mind was lost to madness, causing the victim to lash out at anything nearby. Those most firmly in the clutches of the Starscourge were pronounced daemons and restrained before they were beyond control. Daemons were kept apart from the community... and eventually killed. Ardyn endeavored to treat the afflicted―to return them to their former selves―before that happened.

“I see no difference,” Somnus spat.

“How is it not different?”

“Whether or not a plague is to blame, the fact remains that you alone are able to heal it. Not even the greatest physicians in our land can hope to imitate whatever it is that you do. Isn’t that right, Brother?”

It was true. For reasons unknown, the gods had entrusted this healing power to Ardyn alone.

“Tell me, what can a single man hope to accomplish?” Somnus asked.

“Every life I touch means another soul delivered from the scourge.”

“And as you save that one, how many others fall ill?” Somnus seemed to taunt him now. “Five? Ten? Ever will the scourge outpace you, Brother. You
labor in vain.”

“No, that’s... ” Ardyn faltered. That’s not true, he’d wanted to say, but his brother’s words stung as such.

“What will you do for the towns you are too late to save?” Somnus continued. “When the land is full of daemons, will you continue to try to treat them one by one? Better to end them now and stay ahead of the scourge before it brings ruin to us all.”

“You speak of human lives!”

But Somnus smiled in triumph. To him, the argument was already won.

Ardyn continued to plead with Somnus, thinking of the men and women he’d seen struggling to hang on to the minds they felt slipping away, terrified by
their own disfigured appearances.

“They have done nothing wrong!” 

And they hadn’t. They simply bore the misfortune of some malady that had found its way into their bodies. 

“How can you strike them down when they are free from trespass?”

“Ever the dreamer,” his brother sneered. “Sentimental hopes do not foundations form. To stand strong, a nation must be grounded in reality.”

“And so you would take the easy way? The coward’s path?”

Somnus’s voice grew as hard as steel. “You try my patience, Brother. Indulge the people if you must, but I cannot allow you to lead them astray. Kin or not, I
will not tolerate seeing my name and acts besmirched.”

Ardyn did not respond. He could not. There was murder in his brother’s eyes, and for the first time, Ardyn felt his own life might be in danger. A small
part of him berated his own ignorance; these notions had clearly been brewing within his brother for some time. How could he have missed it? They were siblings. He should have known the man’s mind and temperament better than any other. Somnus would look to any means to achieve his goals. So had he always done. Whatever he set his mind to, he saw it through to the end, no matter the cost.