The Warlord

Chapter 21: Morella

Steaming, hot anger roils off of me as I storm through my room, packing my things.

Those backstabbers. Those scoundrels. Those meddling imbeciles. The next time I see the Top Order, I will shred them from head to toe. I will make them bleed and scream and beg for mercy. I will pull them down from their arrogant ideals and obliterate them.

The very thought of hearing their pleas and cries for help makes me smile with glee. I have already sent a form in for temporary abdication, and now the throne rests in my son's hands. I worry for him, but I have surrounded him with my most trusted advisors and officials. The Top Order cannot get to him while I am gone; and I plan to be gone for perhaps a long, long time.

I am leaving for the middle realm today, right before dinner, in the light of the sunset. The power of the witches is drawn from the moon, so the witchling's magical aura will be easier to track at night. My leather bag is chock-full of bottles stored with my magic power, and a few items to help me direct the flow of my magic. Being in the middle realm brings complications to the gods' magic; our control is not as precise and intricate; our power becomes more of a rushing torrent than a fast-paced brook.

I close the flap and zip up my bag. After throwing on a shawl, a billowy dress, and a cloak, I silently leave my room. I must confer with my son before I leave, but he will be in good hands. My advisors have never let me down, mostly out of fear for the consequences.

I expect to find my son in the sparring ring, where sweat and blood and metal merge together, but instead he is in his room, swallowed by the mellow white and the quiet. Hunched over on his bed, his brow is wrinkled in deep thought, and worry is etched all over his face. When he hears me enter, he stands up with a start, his posture instantly straightening, his features steeling themselves.

"Mother! Perfect! I've been meaning to talk to you about what our court should be like." I narrow my eyes slightly. My son would never discuss such things with me; something is up.

"Go on, my son." I slowly walk out of his room, putting distance between me and him. If someone is spying on us, they will only have a limited radius of space to see me, and I cannot let them know that I am talking with my son.

"Mother, the Top Order is spying on you." I grimace, my murderous attitude towards them growing. "They were using..." my son hesitates, as if his next words are too dreadful to say out loud. But after a moment, he manages to whisper, "...a God's Eye spell."

I do not let my shock show, but my son knows my feelings all too well. The fact that they can control the spell is not so much of a surprise, but for them to resort to such measures... they must really want to stop the queen of Serestine's proposition. All the more reason for me to push it through.

"Another thing, Mother." Maybe he has some information on my missing host down in the middle realm. "They were drawing a Rebirth Circle to bring something into the upper realm from the Void."

It is either the witch or the forgotten prisoner, or maybe some asset that I do not know about. All of it spells out possible collapse and doom for my plan, and that is not acceptable. Most likely they have already pulled out what they wanted from the Void, so I will have to act quickly and discreetly. Something to draw them away from the upper realm... An old tale passed down in the noble line is called up to mind. Yes, that will do.

"My little love, do not speak of what we have said to anyone, even to my most loyal advisors. Trust no one." Harsh, exaggerated words; but sometimes that is what it takes to make people listen and obey. I can feel silence seal his lips, and I walk away, heading straight to my quarters. It is time to unleash an ancient, hidden horror onto Serestine. One that the Top Order will be forced to resolve.