Count Hastrifus rubbed his hands. The rings on his fingers were a nice reminder of who he was. A noble. A precious noble. Even with the tournament going on above and the games starting today, he was still vital to this Kingdom. His alcohol was drunk far and wide—and… Of all things, the Church had decided to call upon him for a surprise visit… Remarkable.
And then to call him one of their most loyal contributors—the sheer honor of it tickled him pink.
He agreed with the church. They were the leaders of this civilization’s spiritual center by divine providence. The Kingdom was just a man, but the church represented the Goddess. Their eternal salvation and her holy fire dictated how they spent their time—or he told everyone that.
The truth was they were just another tool for leverage.
Still, he wasn't prepared to be personally called today and had spent the entire day organizing his staff, rearranging his household, and ensuring everything was up to snuff. He hadn't felt this way since he'd been visited by that young lord, Sir Eric, whom he dearly wanted to impress to find his daughter a suitable companion.
This, though, was a different type of calling. The church had been brusque with their letters, saying that they would show up and when they would show up. Not an exact time.
Hastrifus was a patient man, and even more so because he knew a surprise visit like this often presented unique opportunities. His new friends were ardent church supporters, and he’d made large donations to their coffers.
So this was, of course, to be expected, right? A good thing, right? Maybe they wanted a lot of wine delivered for a service.
Count Hastrifus was still rubbing his hands together as he took stock of his blank-faced servants. They looked bored. No doubt, they would much rather be on the surface, attending that fair that this foolish kingdom had put on. So many had been captivated by those outsiders who had no right to be within their glorious walls. In their eyes, their Count stole them from that.
Oh well, they could complain to one another in their maid quarters; their job was to allow him to play the part of a good host, not to like him."The food is ready?" he asked one of the serving maids as she walked by.
"Of course, my lord," she said, dipping her head down in respect and then rushing to complete her duties.
They could sense his nervousness, and his servants had acted with the same unease. They knew that this was an important event and that his house could not afford to offend the church. Sooner rather than later, despite time going at a snail's pace, he got the announcement from one of his guards.
"The holy church has arrived, my lord."
"Escort them in. Now," Hastrifus demanded, standing up and smoothing down his doublet.
Within seconds, a contingent of red priests arrived in his hall. They wore those telltale red robes with singed marks at the hem and sleeves. Their heads were bowed as they followed a man with his hood back—the Cardinal. Whose eyes had deep pockets of black under them, as if the man hadn’t slept in weeks. Still, there was an all-knowing smirk on his face as he flowed into the room.
Hastrifus's eyes went wide, and he bowed down, getting to his knees, supplicating himself before the highest-ranked religious figure in the Kingdom. "Cardinal, I didn't expect it to be you who showed up at my humble abode. Whatever can I do to honor the presence of such an esteemed and renowned man?”
"Rise," the Cardinal ordered.
Hastrifus did and then looked at his maid. "Go, get the food, break out the finest wine."
The Cardinal kept his smile and indicated for the Count to come closer as the maids rushed off to perform their jobs. Hastrifus did just that, leaving the safety of his luscious throne and bounding across the room like a dog as quickly as he could manage.
When he heard that the church would be appearing, he didn't think that it would be the Cardinal. The mere thought was insane. But here he was, undeniable. That gaunt face and pleased expression marked the man himself, along with the presence that accompanied him. It was like they were being observed by the Goddess herself, so far above.
But why?
Was the church not busy? Especially with that foolish tournament they had conducted, which the church was vehemently against. He’d heard the latest sermons, condemning it as a faithless affair.
Ah.
A perfect way to make a good impression. If he managed to get on the Cardinal’s good side, he could secure a contract for alcohol unlike any other—the greed rolled through his mind as his smile brightened.
"I cannot believe that on this day there are outsiders from our wall inside, prancing about on the surface under her holy light, partaking of our food and our drink that could go to our good people." Hastrifus bowed his head, and the Cardinal simply laughed.
"Calm, Count Hastrifus. Calm," the Cardinal said as he set a hand on the Count’s shoulder.
The priest's touch carried with it an almost burning sensation. Hastrifus almost jerked away as it felt like his skin was itching, but he held fast. To be touched by one so holy was a mark of good luck and faith, rather than something to recoil from in fear. He braced and hunched his head lower as the Cardinal looked him over.
"Would you consider yourself a loyal servant of the goddess?" the Cardinal asked as food began to filter in from the servants. They diligently laid them on the tables set up in the room; it was a wide spread. Fine cheeses, fresh vegetables, meat stewed to perfection, and breads baked just this morning. The scent flooded the air in a symphony of warm and welcoming hospitality. A feast fit for a king, which in Hastrifus's eyes might as well have been the case, considering he was hosting the Cardinal himself.
Hastrifus felt a flush of pride at his calculating move to prepare such a lavish meal beforehand, not knowing it would be served to someone of such esteem.
The Church, like the Crown, was a force of power. The Goddess herself was a holy being that he respected, but the Church was just her pawns in place in this world. Both the Crown and Church had the sort of connections and power that would get him what he wanted in equal measure. But he needed them to listen.
And that was his issue with the Crown.
Recently, the King had stopped listening to his pleas for more land. They had neglected to send him prospects that would help increase his brewing business. He tried to contact them, and he tried to go to the King’s court and plead for increased tax subsidies. But the king hadn't listened, dismissing him.
In Hastrifus’s opinion, he was far too concerned with what was going on outside of their walls, rather than the vital matters within.
It struck Hastrifus wrong, and when he complained and went to the Church, they took him in their good graces, ordering a new shipment of wine and directing him to new circles and friends who were more than willing to do business with him.
Of course, it was frustrating to be ignored by the Kingdom. But that's why there was a Church, a counteracting force more empathetic to the needs of its people, considering that the king himself was apparently more concerned with the outsiders’ needs than his people’s. So, for the moment, he was far more of a fan of these priests.
“I am a loyal servant to the Goddess,” the Count said. Especially right now.
"So you claim you are a servant of the church," the Cardinal said. The man nodded, his hands going into his robes as he looked at all the food. He didn't move to dismiss the rest of the red priests surrounding him to partake of the feast. "It has come, then, for you and others in your case to show yourself as devout followers."
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Hastrifus nodded. "I can do anything you want. Would you like more wine for your church? I can provide that. If you need a donation, we have some money." He trailed off as the Cardinal raised a hand.
"We need not money, but we need influence, power, and those willing to act. As you've stated before, the king hosting such outsiders is a holy abomination. To welcome those within our walls, some of whom are heathens, to partake in our food and steal resources from our people is an affront to the goddess herself. Let alone the fact that this kingdom is harboring a traitor to the goddess."
Hastrifus gasped, putting a hand to his chest as his eyes widened. "A traitor?"
"Yes," the Cardinal said. "My priests have been looking for them for months. They are said to wield fires that are a blasphemy to the goddess herself. But whenever we've approached certain influential nobles, they have ignored our pleas. We have many allies, but the goddess uses us as her servants on this earth. And we must find the one she despises. More than that, too, this kingdom has gone astray from her vision. It is no longer the holy place that it was. It is being polluted and corrupted by the one who wears the crown. Our Goddess no longer agrees with his reign.”
Hastrifus felt his heart hammer as the words settled into him. He understood the concept of playing both sides. He was loyal to the church, sure, and he would say to his dying breath right now in front of the Cardinal that he was loyal to them to a fault, just as he would say the same to the King should he summon him to his court and demand him to pledge fealty.
The truth was that Hastrifus was loyal to whoever gave him the most position and power and could leverage himself and his family into a better future. But the talk here...
"What do you mean?" Hastrifus said.
"It is a time of change," the Cardinal simply nodded.
His men spread out across the room. The servants, who had been lingering with eager ears and waiting to serve their meals, scrambled to exit now that they noticed attention had been drawn to them. The priests got in their way, sealing everyone in the room who had been there. There was some screaming and complaining, but the own beats of the Count’s heart shut them out from his ears.
Hastrifus looked around, feeling an odd sensation roll through his stomach. He’d been sealed in his very own throne room. And now the Cardinal's eyes had taken on an almost predatory fire as he looked the Count up and down.
"You have a useful amount of wealth. You have friends who are loyal to the church. But you, Hastrifus, I can see your heart. Yes, yes, yes, I can see your heart." He set a hand on Hastrifus's chest, his fingers digging into the fabric. Hastrifus felt that itchy heat where they touched, as if they were searing through the cloth and burning the flesh beneath. The Cardinal's eyes widened, and his smile became more manic.
"You aren't as loyal as you claim you are."
"I am, my lord," Hastrifus said, bowing his head as he started to shake.
He wasn't a powerful man by the Knight’s definition. His power lay in the influence that nobility brought, not the raw strength others touted. He thought that to be a foolish game—advancing your virtues when you had no need to go around fighting was a waste of time compared to cultivating wealth and influence.
But now, with the Cardinal’s hand on him, that grin, and the demands that he be forced into a position, Hastrifus felt a cold run through him.
"If you are so loyal as you say, let us test it."
The Cardinal withdrew his hand, snapped his fingers, and a portal—a fiery, spinning inferno—appeared in the middle of the chamber. The tables burst backward, food flying and smearing on the ground, discarded as a pulse of energy ran throughout the hall.
Hastrifus's hands shook as his eyes widened, as a man stepped through the portal. The man was wearing red, not robes, but a garment of red with singed edges and chains—chains wrapped everywhere, on his neck and on his hands.
Hastrifus had witnessed some people like this man enter the Kingdom, but he hadn't seen this one. He'd attended the opening of that tragic event, watching as outsiders poured into their kingdom and promised upheaval from the norms and civility that they lived in before. He’d thought they reminded him of the priests… But that had been it. Those people had a certain edge that the clergy lacked.
The guy’s chains clinked as he moved closer.
"This one of them?” the man said, his eyes looking over the room with a bored expression, taking in the servants, taking in the priests, and then settling on Hastrifus himself.
"Yes, this is one of those to be tested.” The Cardinal confirmed and took a step back from the Count.
“Cardinal…” The Count started to say, eyes darting left and right as the situation closed in on him. He felt like a cornered animal in his own seat of power.
“Calm, Hastrifus, this is your chance. Know the Goddess looks over you fondly. You claim to serve the goddess, and this is her test to you. Accept her searing chains on your soul. Commit it to your heart, and join her vast network of earthly servants, and you will be rewarded when this is all said and done. We need you to commit to this chain, to prove your loyalty before her, because this kingdom is going to erupt in a fiery inferno of war. You see it, don’t you? That is why you’ve been turning ever more to the Church. The king has been pushing for this. He has forced our hands with his unholy abominations, and he has brought us to this breaking point. You see it, don't you?"
Hastrifus shook as the man walked towards him, his eyes wide as he didn't understand what was happening. The Cardinal was talking about war? Sure, there was political upheaval for this. The fact that outsiders and contracts with people outside their walls had happened was unprecedented. But war? It seemed insane.
War wasn't good for business. War wasn't good for selling his products. War wasn't good for his house, surely. Not against the Kingdom.
He tried to say something, but his tongue felt like lead, as the judgment of the Cardinal weighed heavily on him. He felt with it the eyes of something supernatural. A heat came into this room. A pressing fire that spread through his skin and swore to burn it off. Sweat ran down his brow in thick, wet globs, dripping onto the ground.
As the intensity only increased, he saw it on his servants, too—the fear, the sweat. Their room was becoming a chamber of inferno, and he couldn't make heads or tails of it.
The Cardinal simply shook his head.
"You say you are loyal. You have played with our Church, pretending you're loyal to us. I've seen your heart. For this reason, you must be made to commit to such a vow. Your fellows did not need this, as greed makes their hearts pure and unclouded. But do not worry. The goddess is forgiving, as she is wise to an extent we cannot comprehend. She knows that to be human is to have doubt; having doubt leads to mistakes. She offers you this chance, Count Hastrifus—you and your people—to take Her chains upon your soul and be bound in your gracious love of her. Embrace Her and cooperate with Her in this coming and glorious revolution as we bring her vision to our kingdom. You will be a maker of change in this world. You will do great things, I promise you. But it comes with a price."
The man with chains clinked forward and then stood before the Count. With a bored expression, he removed a heavy chain from his shoulder, gleaming with a tarnished silver, and then set it on Hastrifus’s. It weighed a ton, and beneath it, the Count felt like he could scarcely stand. Then, they began to burn at once, scorching his skin as the metal turned into a liquid.
"Before us now, I want you to swear fealty to the goddess Vendidica. If you do so, then you will be rewarded. If you fail to..." The Cardinal trailed off.
If you failed, you would fail the Goddess and suffer her wrath.
It was a call to his religion. It was a call to his sanity. It was a call to his survival, Hastrifus realized as the chains burned and the intensity of the heat and weight crushed him down. This was a chance. He saw it clearly in his soul that he had been one, always on the edge, playing both sides, not one to commit to anything, lest a better opportunity find him. And in heaven's eyes, he felt that searing judgment was not a way to live.
Right now was his opportunity—a chance to commit, as the bishop said. She believed in him.
Lavinia. No. Vindicta.
The name was foreign, but it felt right as the chains settled on his heart. It was surely another name for the Goddess in the priesthood. He would commit.
The truth was that he thought that this tournament was a folly. The changes that had been going on throughout the Kingdom were a long, gracious downfall from what they once were. They had been such a bright future, and now involving others in their Kingdom would only bring them war and desolation to their people. The Kingdom should be concerned about itself, not the outside. And if what the bishop said was true, and he felt the sincerity in his words, then...
"I swear my fealty upon Vindicta." Count Hastrifus said.
The chains stopped their scorching as they bound, constricting tighter and tighter. For a second, they got so tight around his neck that they stopped him from breathing, and then, with a laugh in his head, they let go, and breath came free. As he looked down, the heavy chains had vanished, replaced with tattoos.
The Cardinal smiled at him, setting a hand on his shoulders. "You have faced temptation, my son, and you have come out the other side. You can now witness her true glory as she brings it to our people." Now, he looked at the servants. "We must do the same for those who have heard this conversation. This is for trusted ears only. Things are changing in the Kingdom, and they are changing fast. And it would be dangerous otherwise for those unloyal to her to know what we have planned." He looked at the various servants and gestured for them to come forth. "Here, on behalf of your Lord, swear fealty to the goddess. Let us embrace her holy energy, and let us ascend as one and do her will upon the world."
He looked to Hastrifus, and Hastrifus gestured to his servants. "Come now. It's not that bad," Hastrifus grumbled, still rubbing at the tattoos and feeling itchy on his skin. Something had settled over his soul, but he felt lighter now. His issues, his worries, had faded away. His course had been made, and now he had a direction to go.
They were reluctant, but he saw them accept the chains and dedicate themselves one by one.
It was for the best for his house, the Church, and the Kingdom.
Glory be to the Goddess.