"Your princess and prince, your hope for the next generation...they are no more royal than a feral pig. Here is their true father!" Eldon whipped back to Cordell who lifted the same blue eyes to glare out at the proceedings. "He confessed it all to me. The Queen worked with him, because our King...our King that so many rallied around as the virile defender against the blight. He is, in fact, as limp and sterile as a castrated druffalo."
Gasps broke out of the gentry, whispers rising from insisting it wasn't possible to more people scrutinizing Cordell's looks. Rumors long since dead began to circulate anew. People wondered why it took the King and Queen near on a decade of marriage to produce an heir. Why the King himself didn't father any bastards before the princess came into being. Could Eldon's claims be true?
"Do you have anything to add to this, your Majesty?" Eldon turned to Beatrice and raised his dagger at her.
She spat at him, then turned to Cordell to hiss, "I pray you burn in the void for this!"
"Loving as always," Eldon snickered before shoving at Cordell. "Tell them. Tell them the truth, of how they're all being led by a farce. That the crown, the blood of Calenhad himself has already been lost, and all you have for your future Queen is rotten filth dolled up in a pretty dress."
"This is all hearsay!" a voice shouted from the back. Rosie tried to whip over her shoulder to spot the owner but it was drowned out in a sea of people picking it up. The ones who attended her father's birthday happened to like him. They weren't about to be swayed so easily.
"He's full of shit!"
"Bet he rounded up a drunk to pretend to be the Queen's bedmate."
"I hate after dinner theater!"
Eldon's smile strained at the resistance, but it didn't fade. He should be stepping back, fleeing from the King who was trying to rise to his feet, but instead he turned back to the man in the robes that dashed into the corner during the fight. "Do it!" he shouted.
The man stepped towards their father and parted his hands. Red runes lit up under him, and a bubble trapped their King from any help. He tried to rise to his feet, but stumbled and took a knee instead. "What is this?" Alistair's voice sounded far off in the distance as he tried to shout through the barrier. "If you're trying to keep me from the cheese tray, this puny thing will hardly stop me," he tried to laugh it off, but the barrier remained in tact and strong.
Pausing, the mage quirked his head over to Eldon. They were in cahoots. Of course they were, he must have been planning all of this the second he found Cordell and pried the truth from him. Eldon nodded and the mage unearthed a bottle out of his pocket. When it shifted into the light, Rosie realized it wasn't red due to the lit up runes, but because it was full of blood.
Tipping it out, the blood poured onto the ground and raced to form a new seal around the runes. The barrier flared a second time, growing thicker with magic until they could only see the King through a small layer of fog.
"Are you done?" Eldon hissed, tapping his foot.
"Not quite," the mage whispered. Turning his hand to the side, he slit it open. The blood aerosolized in an instant, power warping from the veil onto the barrier that surrounded their father. "Go ahead," the man said while wrapping a bandage around his hand.
"Blood mages," Rosamund hissed. "Eldon, you will answer not only to the crown but the chantry and the Maker himself for this."
"We shall see," he chuckled while pacing around. "What we have before us is a little test. Inside is our King, a man with the blood of Calenhad himself running through his veins. Or so we've been led to believe."
"Let him go!" Cailan shouted, tears rising in his eyes.
Eldon glanced over a moment and paused, "You can, young Prince. Or you...piggish princess. All you need do is spill your blood onto the seal, thereby breaking it and setting your...King free."
Cailan darted over to Rosie, his eyes wild and steps uncertain. They couldn't trust this mad ritual, but if it would save their father... "You're lying!" she shouted at him, even while flexing her fingers. If the cut had to be made, she'd do it.
"On the contrary, it is a well established spell, in Tevinter mind you, but it does exist. However," Eldon raised his hand, "there is one tiny problem." Lashing a hand out, he grabbed onto the man that shot Anjali. Without a care, he pulled the man's palm apart and slit a dagger across it. Blood welled up on the flesh, and with his hand under the man's, Eldon tipped it onto the floor of the rune.
The drops danced against the barrier, causing it to flare up and explode, freeing their father, but the man who provided the blood to open it began to gasp. He fell to his knees while more blood gushed from his body out of the small wound. It looked as if a great wind was sucking it all free from his veins. The cheeks sunk in and his eyes rolled backwards into his skull as the emaciated and fully drained body tumbled backwards and didn't rise.
Barely looking at the man he murdered, Eldon said, "Only someone with the blood of Calenhad can break the seal and survive. Anyone else will...do that. Raise the barrier again!" he shouted at his mage. This was the only window they had to rescue their father, but Rosie was frozen in place. Her eyes bulged at the horrors before her, a man nearly stripped to the meat and sallow flesh draped off his bones in under a minute. By the time she thought to even try to rush in to save her father, the barrier appeared once again, and they had no answer.
"Save him," Eldon tossed his dagger at Rosie. Only by pure reflexes did she catch it. "Prove yourself to be a daughter of the King and save him."
She dug her fingers into the handle and cursed inside her brain at the bastard. There had to be another way. Someone would find them, someone who knew how to alter spells, dispel magics. They could free their father without anyone else having to die. They just needed a bit of time.
"Oh? And did I forget to mention? He's slowly suffocating in there," Eldon sneered. "So best decide quickly or Maker save the King."
"You bastard!" she screamed, her eyes slicing apart the man that hounded her every step. What could she do? What option was there before her?
"Spud," her dad's voice wobbled through the barrier. He managed to get to his knees to stare up at both her and Cailan. "Spuddy, don't you dare. You either Cailan. Don't you do it. I swear."
"Dad," Cailan gasped, his fingers reaching out to their father pleading for their lives instead of his own.
"Don't..." Alistair began to rock on his knees, the air poisoning him. "Promise me. Please. Don't."
"Stop this!" Rosie screamed at Eldon. "Stop this and I'll...I'll marry you!"
"Rose," Beatrice whipped her head over, turning away from the dying man before them all.
"I swear it," she gulped. If she'd given in, if she hadn't have been so stubborn before then none of this would be happening. If she'd talked reasonably to the mad man attempting to kill her father instead of wounding his pride this could have been averted. "If you release the King then I'll marry you."
Eldon stepped closer, his putrid breath wafting over as he got nearly an inch from her face. She screwed up her eyes, terrified he might force a kiss from her. "No." Rosie stared wide in shock. "After all, I made a promise, did I not? I will never marry you. And as soon as the gentry learns the truth of you and your ignominious beginnings, they'll be turning to a new family for the throne. And my family, my blood, has the better claim than all."
Her entire body boiled in rage as the man scampered back to stand by his blood mage. Whipping her arm back, she threw the filthy dagger as hard as she could at him. It landed handle first against Eldon's chest, clattering to the ground. Rosie screamed at herself for failing to kill him, while the man shrugged and picked it up. "So that's your choice then?"
Ignoring the bastard trying to destroy their family, she turned to her father. His head hung down and he was gasping for air. "Dad..." she fell to her knees, Cailan tumbling beside her as both tried to catch the King's eyes. "Daddy, please."
"I..." Alistair gasped in a breath and splayed his fingers against the barrier. "I love you."
Rosie grabbed onto Cailan's hand, both crumbling apart while they watched him fade further from this world and into the next. "We love you too, dad. We always will."
Their father smiled at that, when he lost his fight and collapsed onto the ground.
No...
CHAPTER SIXTY-FIVE
Sacrifice
NO!
From the back of the hall Myra watched as her dad collapsed inside the evil bubble of doom. Rosie stood right there, following to her knees and not doing a damn thing to help. Why wasn't she doing something?!
Heart beating erratically in her chest, she leapt up the empty alleyway towards her family. A few hands tried to grab at Myra, but she ran past them all -- her staff swinging fast to clear a path. He wasn't moving. He was laying there not moving and no one was doing anything! That rat bastard watched the whole display with a grin on his face that she intended to punch out, but first...
Closing her eyes tight, Myra tried to find that evil magic. To follow it back to its lair and bludgeon it until it vanished. She reached out through the veil itself, her mind trying to unravel the spell of runes -- when the whole thing hissed and snapped back at her. Damn it!
Her eyes snapped open just as the barrier slunk back to where it reached out from, as in tact as before. Dad...
No. No, she was not giving up.
"What are you doing?" Myra shrieked, running towards the barrier and her siblings who were holding each other while they watched the world end.
"Myra," Rosie whipped her head back as her headstrong younger sister nearly crashed face first into the barrier. Would that break it? Could she punch it to death? Yanking her arm back, Myra moved to do just that, when Rosamund caught her wrist.
"Stop! Stop, don't..."
"Dad's in there! Dad's dying! I have to do something!" she shrieked in a panic.
Tears burned in the Princess' eyes, her lip trembling in aguish, but she shook her head slowly. "You can't. Myra, it'll... He told us not to."
"So what?" she shook her sister's hand off and stared down at their father. His body shifted a bit, taking in what could be his last breath. "I never do what Dad tells me to." Her words caught in her throat like a fat frog.
"You'll die," Cailan whispered with his head turned to the side. He couldn't watch the death of their dad. Maybe he wasn't their father, not by blood, but...fuck all those stupid rules of lineage and birth. He was their dad, he always had been. He always would be.
Myra stepped forward, her mind hardening while her heart melted into a pile of goo. She couldn't watch this. She couldn't sit here and do nothing. "Who cares?" she whispered, her eyes closing while she strained to hear her dad's last gasp for air. "I'm...I'm nothing." Important. Necessary. Wanted. She was the expendable one in all of this, always had been.
"Myra," Rosie watched as her sister twisted around her staff blade until it rested in the palm of her hand. "Don't do this. You can't, you'll--"
Tears burning in her eyes, she stared at her not-sister. "Shut up, Rossie." Drawing the blade fast across her palm, the pain bit hard as the sharp edge split apart her skin. The blood welled up quick, pooling in her hand as she watched it.
Her life or her father's. What did her's matter compared to a King's? A hand landed on her shoulder, trying to pin her in place. All Myra could see through the tears was the raven dark hair sliding around the face trying to stop her. Rosie's fingers moved to cover over her bloody palm, to keep Myra tethered to this rotten world. "You don't want to do this, My. Not for...please. Don't."
She stared transfixed at her own reflection blinking back in the pool of blood. The crimson girl looked beaten and broken, her eyes black as night in the depths of her life's gore. Myra turned to her sister, and tipped her palm upside down. Her blood dribbled onto the floor, striking the runes and causing the barrier to hiss.
"Oops," she said and closed her eyes waiting for her death.
"Myra," Rosie latched onto her shoulders, both sisters falling to the ground together. Her extended hand turned ice cold, all the warmth of life fleeing from her body to wrap around the infernal magic. It shouldn't be long at least. That other guy went real quick.
Would it hurt? Her teeth gritted tighter, fearing for the pain of her innards liquifying, her blood all fleeing out of her body in a breath. She heard the barrier snap apart, felt the magic seep away out of the world, but her life remained obstinately trapped inside her meat sack.
"Dad!" Rosie cried. "Cailan?"
"On it," her brother sounded as if he was scrabbling forward, his hands filling with their father. It was up to them now. They'd have to stop the bad guy, save the day. Build a little pyre for Myra, maybe say a few nice words. Would anyone really have much of anything beyond 'she wasn't a total pain?'
Not to be too picky or anything, but why was this taking so long?
Risking having untold horrors burned into her soul before she snapped across the veil, Myra lifted an eyelid. Her palm remained bloody but not sucked apart as if the very forces of the Maker ripped her flesh off. It was sticky and stung. Should death come with such a simple but annoying pain?
"Dad? Daddy?"
Myra glanced up to find her sister with her cheek brushing against their father's mouth. "He's not breathing!" she cried. Tears burned in her eyes while she tried to shake their father awake. "Dad, come on, you have to breathe. You can do it now. Myra, she..."
Emerald eyes landed upon the still breathing, still bleeding, still living sibling. "You're..." Rosie began in shock before snapping to attention in an instant. "Myra, you can heal him. Quick. Before it's too late."
"Uh," she crawled on her knees through her own blood and someone else's caked on the floor. Bunching her wounded hand up and pressing it to her stomach she stared down at their father's far too still chest. Heal. She had to. There was no one else.
You can do it. You can always do the unexpected, untrained for thing when it counted most. When it mattered. They always did in the stories.
Sucking in her snotty tears, Myra punched her way into the fade. Fire tickled along her fingers, but she didn't want that. Didn't need it. Breath. Her dad needed breath. How does one give a person breath?! She kept passing her uninjured hand back and forth over his chest trying to will a sip of the fade itself into him. To get it to fix what was broken, but all the magic stared and laughed at her.
She didn't know. She didn't learn. She was going to fail him because she waited too long. Because she was scared of dying. Her Maker damn cowardice would kill him anyway!
No!
A great gasp erupted from Alistair, his chest expanding and sending all the kids scampering back. He piled air into his lungs, each breath growing less extreme until his eyes opened. "Daddy!" Rosie cried, throwing herself around him. He struggled to lift a hand to hug her when Cailan did the same, the boy's face crumpling into their fallen father's chest.
"Myra, thank the Maker you did it!"
But she didn't. She didn't know how. She never learned to...
Turning over her shoulder, she spotted the real mage in their midst. A small, dark skinned woman stood at the edge of the assembled prisoners. Her eyes were closed as she waved her fingers through the air, filling their father with all the healing energy Myra never learned.
"How...?" Alistair gasped a moment, his voice like two cheese graters attempting to mate.
Rosie wiped at the tears in her eyes and turned to her sister. "Myra," she reached to drag her over while Cailan helped their father up to a sitting position.
His big, puppy dog eyes burned into Myra who expected to have a lecture coming at her. She went against orders. More than that she nearly threw her life away for him. He was gonna be mad.
"Wheaty," he gasped and tugged her to his chest.
"Dad," she fell into him, tears springing anew as her bloody hand dug against his shoulder. "Dad, I couldn't..."
"Shh, shh, come here all of you." He struggled to wrap them all up in a hug, the nearly broken family reveling
in their reunion when Myra felt the veil twist under her.
Fuck, that blood mage bastard.
She twisted from her father, her hand flying up just as the mage launched a wave of something at them. Her gut told her it was meant to crush bones, but a barrier erupted off her hand protecting them all from the attack. The mage blinked in surprise, clearly not expecting that, while the three scrabbled to their feet.
"It's the mage!" Myra shouted and pointed at him. She moved to pick up her staff while Rosie rooted around for a sword, but the blood mage was working fast. His fingers arced through the air, preparing a spell that must have been even worse than before.
Myra winced, uncertain if she could manage another barrier again. Those cold eyes of a hired merc that worked in blood glanced over the three Theirin siblings. He parted his hands, about to unleash whatever he had on him, when the veil buckled. Myra stumbled back towards Cailan, her head pounding, but it was the blood mage at the epicenter of not one but two templar attacks. All magic was ripped from this world and sent back to where it belonged by the father and son working through the crowd.
The blood mage gawped, too young to have known what it felt like to be attacked by a templar, but Myra knew. Her fingers stumbled not to find a spell, but gripped assuredly against her staff. Planting a foot, she spun the blade near the mage. Still shaking from the draining of his mana, he barely twisted to the side to avoid her attack, but Myra expected that. She wanted it. Whipping her staff around, she whacked the second snake head into the man's gut, then poured all her remaining energy through it.
A great burst of flame erupted out of the staff right into his stomach. He screamed, panic flailing in his eyes, when Myra spun the staff around again and the blade that cut her hand to free her father sliced against his neck. The burning mage fell to his knees, fire quickly eating up his robes and flesh.
"That's for hurting my Dad!" Myra shouted at it, watching him go up in flames.
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